Hi guys, I'm back! Actually I never left, but I just haven't been feeling very bloggy in a while. I've lost all my internet interest actually. Maybe it's because I don't want to waste my time at the computer when I get home from work. Or maybe it's because I have nothing good to say. No matter what though, I am still here, and although I might not always post or leave my fellow bloggers some comments, I still love you all.
That having been said, I have a quick story to tell, that I have been promising for a while. The sunglasses story. It's pretty short, but it's a sad tale, full of twists and turns.
One summer about 9 years ago, Lisa, Mom and I went to Cape May for a few days for a little vacation. We ate, we laughed, we walked around, we got an old-timey photo taken, it was a great time.

See how much fun we're having? Well that was before. Before things took a tragic turn that hot late-summer day.
If memory serves me, we were doing a little shopping and were just leaving some bizarre hippie store that sold all those damn tie-dyed tapestries and cheesy candles that are supposed to glow when you light them, usually covered in ying yangs or dolphins or something. Lisa and I both needed to make a pit stop, and since we were right near the public beach, there was a large restroom nearby. Mom waited outside to have a quick smoke as us girls waited our turn in the bathroom. Two stalls opened up right next to each other and we were up to bat. Now mom always said not to sit on the seat of a toilet in a public restroom, because god only knows what the hell is on there. You could catch some weird disease. I was glad to see that the toilets were of the automatic flush variety, because if you could catch something from a toilet seat, you damn well are gonna catch it from the handle. I took off my purse and hung it on the hook, and secured my stuff before the great toilet balancing act. I could tell Lisa was probably doing the same on the other side of the formica wall. Everything went smooth on my side, but suddenly I heard a PLOP, followed by a swift toilet flush, and my sister's panicked voice shouting out "OH no! OH NOOOOO!!". There was a great shuffling of feet, still restricted by pants around the ankles, and even more cries of "Shit!" and "Damn it!!".
I came out of the stall to see Lisa standing by the sinks looking depressed.
"Umm, Lees, what the hell happened in there?"
"I flushed my sunglasses down the toilet."
"How?"
"I was balancing and trying to take a pee,"(Mom would have been proud)," but I forgot I had my sunglasses tucked into my collar. They fell. Then it just.....flushed. They were gone."
"Well, we'll just get you some new ones."
"Fuck you, Trish. You don't have any fucking respect for my glasses!! I fashioned them myself out of twine, broken beer bottles and my own spit. You can just 'get' new ones!! You're so dumb!"
OK, that last part I made up, but after regaling the tale to my mother, we spent the rest of the day going into every store that had sunglasses so Lisa could try to find some new ones. She found a pair eventually, but they were not as cool as her old metallic brown framed shades. Poor Lisa was bummed out for pretty much the rest of the trip.
Anyway, poor Lisa never has any friggin luck, that's the point. And the other point is, somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean or wherever those toilets empty to, her glasses may still be out there.