Humble Middles

After never actually seeing a single grave but walking a long time along a wall, we met up with a writing friend and some of her non-SAIC friends. We drove to Evanston...which was quite the adventure because no one actually knew where we were going...the driver of the car we were in called someone in another state for directions. We arrived close to twenty minutes late for the movie Jarhead. I really really would rather not be late to things, especially movies, but that's not the story I'm going to tell.

In fact I'm not going to tell much of a story. Just that we watched Jarhead. I liked it, most everybody else seemed to like it a lot less. There's a dream sequence where Nirvana is played and I remembered that I really like Nirvana and no I'm not thirteen years old so that's okay.

Cute men with ripped bodies.
I have thoughts about war movies...but now is not the time.

As we were walking to the parking lot after the movie I overheard a man and his young daughter speaking. Here is my favorite part of their conversation/the only part I really paid attention to:

Little Girl: What's a hardware store Daddy?
Father: That's where men buy their tools, honey.
Moving on.