Oh, I'm Sorry--I Didn't Realize You Were Reading!

So this morning, I came here to my lovely office (blarf) and checked my blogstats, as is my habit. And I noticed that I had quite a number of referrals from Chillinois, which is outstandingly cool in and of itself because...well, like, that's an actual well-known blog and everything! And then I actually went OVER there, and found this post.



You know the girl everyone had in their junior-high class--the one whose mother made her wear dresses all the time and her slip was always showing, the one with those pop-bottle glasses with the horn rims, and hair the color of mouse-turds? And one day her dad, the car mechanic, changed a fan belt on Duran Duran's tour bus and she actually got to MEET them--and in awe of this stunning accomplishment, for one grand and glorious week, the popular girls let her sit at the COOL LUNCH TABLE?



That's how I feel.



Which actually makes it WORSE that I have no witty, stunningly-written dialogue with which to offer you a payoff, oh you who clicked on the link in the Chillinois post...in fact, I don't even have a proper climax to the story.



What actually happened (God, have I EVER been more tempted to fictionalize an ending? I don't think so) What actually happened was....well, nothing. The little green notebook sat on the end table til the next day, though the money of course got snapped up immediately; then the little green notebook disappeared. I saw it again a few days later, when I was picking up things in the living room and went to put some lighters and stuff in LJ's drawer in the TV table, but neither the notebook nor its contents were ever discussed.



I know, I know....back to the "dork" table for Gladys. :::sigh::::