Pot-Luck Post

Dear little bloggies, a few tidbits to share.
My mom just called to let me know that she was kind enough to bring my ripped pants (i.e two pant legs) back to the location from which they had been bought (see blog post: When The Levi's Broke). As a consolation for having aired my ass to the general public, banana republic, oops, i mean UNDISCLOSED store, is offering me a $10 credit. hmm $10. i don't think i can buy a sock for my left foot with $10. Also, i think that if they ran a history of my purchases at their store (nevermind my mother's), they would see what a loyal customer and prolific shopper i have been. In most cases, this is not something i would be proud of but given the circumstances, i think i deserve a bit more compensation.
i would also like to take a moment to thank my ever-devoted mother who bravely went where no shopper has gone before: attempting to return a pair of pants that were purchased 18 months ago. A child could have been conceived, birthed and learned to walk since i bought those dang pants. Imagine a baby trying to get back in the womb after 18 months, i don't think so. But that didn't stop my mother. So i thank her for her plight and don't hold her responsible for the measly ten dollars that BR is offering me.

In other news, the "comments" to my blog are lacking. Haven't you read those articles in the New York Times? My generation thrives off positive reenforcement to the point where we actually can't accomplish anything without getting some sweet sweet lovin. To make it easier for yourselves, think of this blog as a cheap stripper (this is not to say all strippers are cheap, some are expensive). If you want this chick to come dance by you, twirl on a pole and what not, you've got to pay up. Think of the "comments" section as dollar bills you're placing in some lady's g-string.

It's only appropriate now to follow with some Easter news. Tomorrow, i am off to the promised land of milk and honey where the 7-11's live at every corner, the accents are thick and the people drive exceptionally well: New Jersey. I have my easter dress all laid out and my bonnet is ready to be tied. Is it me or is Easter eerily like a scene from Little House on the Prairie but with more chocolate?
I'll keep you posted on my cultural learnings.