It's got to be written on my forehead...

Husband says I have "Please, please, tell me your life story, I'm bitterly lonely and in need of some humor and irony" written on my forehead. I think he is right.

Standing in line today - a long, ridiculously long line - at the local bagel shop. Clearly we were the only two in line with ethnic bagel knowledge in our blood. But whatever. Older teenage girl in front of us. Alternating between talking on cell phone, annoying her brother and nagging her mother about going to Ren Fest. She turns to me in mid rant - me whom she does not know and has never met or seen. "Tell her," she says. "You've been to Ren Fest, haven't you? Tell her how much fun it is. Tell her about Ded Bob."

Husband eyebrows do a dance at the top of his head.

And I, of course, simply turn to the mom and tell her Ren Fest rocks.

"Ren Fest," she says. "What's that?"

"You know," I say, "Renaissance... uh... kings, queens, fairies, jousting..." (Here I begin to feel like I should have run over to Starbucks instead and had a scone)

"Yeah, Mom," says the daughter. "You know. Turkey leg. Ded Bob. The perfect day."

Luckily it was their turn at the counter next.

"Do you know her?" husband whispers in my ear. Then.. "Never mind."

Cause he knows I don't. Just my crazy world.

People talk to me. They just do. And it's probably why I can write. In fact I know it is.

Til next time...