i'm the mayor 'round these parts

welcome to randomville. yeah, that's me, standing by the welcome sign, waving at you. as you enter, you're going to wonder why you're here, exactly. to be honest, i can't really tell you. maybe, like the person who unearthed this blog today with the search words "first boy to see my boobs," you're just drawn to the mystery of why i talk so much about my kick ass rack, but never show it off.

if such be the case, i hope you move here. because if you were to look in my windows today, you'd probably see the fabled rack. i'm sitting at the computer, half naked, as i write this. you'd probably never guess why, but i'd be curious your assumptions.

though you wouldn't be the first boy to see my boobs if you did so.

first stop here in randomville is a work story - last night, while shelving some titles near the childcare/parenting section, i totally got hit on. this makes me happy for two reasons. first, this event cements the cliche that people really do that flirting thing at bookstores (an aside, "we met at a bookstore" may or may not be the story my husband and i use when people ask how two people so utterly perfect for each other crossed paths and lit a fire of red hot passion that burns as bright today as it did the very first moment he laid eyes on my kick ass rack).

second, it proves my theory that, at least for the moment, i can think i was the hottest thing killing time in the barnes and noble last night. or that you can at least work with me here for a moment and think the same thing, people.

anyway, this very nice young man is hemming and hawing near the parenting books as i work in the aisle. because i have obvious customer services skills, i asked if i could help him find something.

"oh, no. i'm just looking," came his patented answer.

i smiled, said if he changed his mind, i was there for him, and i went back to shelving. i barely had the comment complete when this comes from him.

"so today i got custody of my three kids and wow, it's a little overwhelming!"

because i used to pretend i was a psychologist when i was 10 (don't all kids?), i turned back toward him, smiled, and asked how he felt about that, and added i bet it was going to be an interesting time in his house for awhile.

"so i bet you've got your hands full," i stated.

"i have a boy and two girls, and i have to say, i'm pretty worried about the girls as they get older. i don't really know what to do with them. i mean, they need that female perspective. especially as they get older."

by now, he's right up next to me, fingers tracing the spine of a book on single parenting

"oh, how old are your daughters?" i asked.

"oh, they're 1 and 2," he said.

"well, the good things is you've got a few years to go before you have to fill them in on a lot of stuff," i replied while, at this point, looking for an out from this aisle. super dad would have none of that, though.

"yeah, but i'm worried about things like dating and boys and well, you know. 'girl things,'" he said, following me up the aisle. "do you have to worry about things like that?"

" 'girl things,' you mean?" i said, glancing down at myself to be sure. "well, heh heh. i guess i'm lucky there. i have two young sons, so i do understand the challenges of parenting. we do have an assortment of books on helping kids adjust to adolescence, as well as some really interesting books on single parenting. i'd be glad to help you search some titles out if you're interested."

"well, you know, i only have five bucks in my wallet right now," he sighed, getting closer to me still.

"parenting is a pretty costly venture," i offered in response. "so, since you just got custody of the kids today, are they here with you tonight?" (yes, it actually took me 15 minutes into the conversation to realize this man who had told me he was the sole provider of three very young children was out browsing a bookstore without said kids. overwhelmed by the flirting, i was)

"oh, no. they're with their moms," he said, complete with a little wink (i swear to you).

so i smiled, twisted at my name tag with my left hand in view, offered him my best wishes on his new life and suggested that if he was looking for relationship help as well, i could direct him to the self-help section.

"lots of women hang out there," i muttered as i walked away. "learning about that 'girl stuff' that becomes so important later in life. and they're probably hot for five bucks."

but honestly, i'm still of the thought that it's cool i got hit on.

second stop in randomville - still don't have much for clothes on. a look at the clock shows i should go take care of that soon. any guesses yet?

third stop - i'm getting a tremendous number of visits from china lately. a recent check indicated half of my day's visitors came from there. apparently, like most american celebrities, i'm huge in the asian market and i expect i'll be pimping watches and fine liquors in print and television ads there in no time. plus i'll be releasing an album.

fourth stop - on the drive to work last night, i actually sang and danced along in the mini to this song before i realized i had sunk into madness. obviously, i'm not a proud person, and i'll probably cover this tune on my import-only disc.

if only i could scold me.

final stop, and this is truly random - obviously, with the impending arrival of spring, the world has taken on a new air. crisp and clean with impending promise.

however, my yard apparently smells like nasty gym clothes and fetid mcdonald's french fries. sort of like the mini (though seriously, there has to be some kind of funk in it if it knocked me temporarily insane long enough to kick it to some debbie gibson). luckily, i discovered nature plans to abate the problem with this handy air freshener. and it's not just vanilla scented, mind you. it's vanillarama.

this and many other reasons will likely prompt you to want to move here to randomville. get here soon before real estate prices skyrocket. still opportunity to get in on the ground floor right here on my street.

where the women sit around half naked and the lawns smell of cookies.