Tea Lady
There's an adorable coffee and tea place across the street from the boy's place, and we stopped to get something to drink there yesterday morning. After I ordered a small English breakfast tea, Strawberry (really that's her name) was like, "Oh, you're the tea lady he always comes in here to get tea for! Don't you want Irish breakfast tea today?" She'd opened a box if Irish tea just for me! So I guess this makes me a regular. They know my drink and have a nickname for me. Does this mean I'm growing up? I'm a regular at somewhere besides a bar. Maybe not. They still know my name at Trinity, too.

I'm weak
I should not be allowed to go into Anthropologie unsupervised. I was killing time near Union Square before meeting up with the boy on Friday night, so I decided to just go in and look around. But then I saw this dress and fell head over heels for it. I knew instantly what shoes I'd wear it with. And wouldn't it look fabulous with that navy cardigan in my closet? It's just so me. It was way too much money, though. So I left. But by the next day, I decided I should at least go back and try it on. As soon as I got it on, I knew it was hopeless. I was hooked. I instantly had a million ways to justify spending the money. It's almost my birthday. It's really more of an investment because it's a dress I'll keep forever. And there's so many places I could wear it. I'm sure I'll have a wedding to wear it to sometime soon; my friends are getting to be that age. So, um, it's hanging in my closet now. Credit cards are such an enabler.