Things that make me happy
On my way home from work, about halfway between midtown and downtown, there is a building called The Federal Reserve, which sounds very stodgy and businesslike, and yet every day I seem to see all kinds of quirky/funny/touching things outside. Perhaps it’s because I always catch the light there and so am sitting still long enough to witness them? Or maybe all the people who work there feel so good to be outside once they are that they get all cheery? Who knows. But there is a low wall surrounding the building that’s near the street, and I’ll be darned if every single time I drive by there aren’t two or three (I’ve even seen five) grown men sitting and swinging their feet back and forth like little boys with fishing poles waiting for the big catch. Never fails to make me smile, that image. Others:
• Once I saw a woman in a suit walking toward the building, and by her gait, I could tell she was done with the day and tired. Then a man (also in business suit) in front of her about 20 feet stood up, spread his arms open wide, and when she got close enough, enveloped her into a giant bear hug. They were exactly the same height. She was glad to see him.
• On the corner, where the action tends more towards the crazy and less the quirky, a man or woman (I’m still not sure) was waiting for the light to change, and while doing so was executing a highly elaborate and very energetic dance routine. I mean like the kind you would see on an audition for So You Think You Can Dance. It was done with such desperation and frenzy I was appalled and compelled to applaud all at the same time. I watched him/her in my rearview mirror well past the limits of safe driving, I’m pretty sure.
• A group of women, all in long skirts, buttoned up short sleeve Very Sensible Work Attire shirts and bright white sneakers were waiting on the bus that picks up in front of the building. One of the women completely dwarfed the other three, standing nearly a foot higher and encompassing more width than the others as well. I couldn’t hear the conversation going on at that corner, but I do know that the three shorter women were completely captivated by whatever story the larger woman was telling, never looking away and laughing so hard their eyes crinkled up into slits and their hands clutched their sides. The next day I saw the lady who had been the center of attention the day before waiting for the bus all alone, and I thought “Man, I want to hear that story.” I bet those ladies eat lunch together every day. One of them is probably named Joan.
• Another day I saw a guy standing a good five feet back from the wall, letting forth a giant arc of urine. Oh, Atlanta. You are a daily visual treat.
I haven’t Rosie-Styled it in a while, mostly because I haven’t anythinged it in a while on this here blog. Let’s remedy that, shall we?
Purple top, striped skirt, differently striped socks, red Crocs, pigtails, bunny. (Later swapped out for a football.)
Bird shirt, yellow cardigan, brown velvet skirt, red sparkly shoes. (Always.) Also: a ponytail and headband.
Rosie + headbands = love fo-evah.
The party attire: Blue cardigan, crazy-print dress, striped tights, sparkly red shoes, headband.
Later: chocolate cupcake smears.
Striped shirt, jeggings (JEGGINGS. SHE CALLS THEM JEGGINGS I NEVER CALLED THEM THAT HOW DOES SHE KNOW THESE THINGS), ballet tights under said jeggings, red sparkly shoes, headband, emo look.
If you think I influenced a single one of these ensembles even a tiny hair of a bit, you have not been in this house when it is time for Rosie Mae to dress for the day. She has … opinions.
I finally pulled out the totally awesome tiny tripod that L got me for Christmas last year and put it to good use, recording something that hasn’t been captured in lo but many many moons.
A family portrait:
Go team us!