A road trip conversation:
him: “Hey…look at that…if it wasn’t monsooning we could totally go and see the original KFC in Corbin, Kentucky.”
me: “Why does it not surprise me that KFC began in Kentucky?”
him: “Um, Ali? It’s called KENTUCKY fried chicken.”
me: “Well,Â I guess it should surprise no one, then…”
Sweet Jesus, Atlanta is HILLY.Â and this morning I ventured outÂ for my first run in my new country and ohmygoodgod the hills. also? it’s confusing. because not only is every single street called Peachtree-something or other, but there are streets called East Northway Lane and West Northway Lane and Northway Drive and Northway Court. and none of these are the street you are actually looking for…NorthLAND. well, blow me down, I got me a real scenic view of the neighborhood. and now my legs are jelly and I’m actually thankful that it started raining and it’s too wet to take the kids to the zoo. because my wobbly legs can handle target and toys r us, but I’m not so sure about how they feel about breaking in our brand spanking new family passes to the zoo. (have I mentioned before that I kind of sort of hate the zoo?)
you know what else Atlanta is? HOT. Sweet Jesus, Atlanta is hot. YESSS. I love the heat. love it. I have been waiting for this through a lukewarm-at-best Toronto summer. A summer where a cardigan is a must and jeans are a staple. But here, cardigans and jeans need to be traded in for tanks and shorts and cute little cotton dresses that are all in our storage locker in Toronto. fantastic. Also? we are not even going to talk about how I look in shorts and flip-flops. (#ILOOKLIKEATOOLINSHORTS)
you know what else Atlanta is? the land of the very best costumes EVER (also? the land where Isabella refuses to be dressed. ever. even as we speak, she is sitting and playing with her most favorite toy ever in the nude)
you know what else Atlanta is? The place where I may or may not have strange sexytime dreams about such celebrities as Joe Jonas and (1970s era) Donny Osmond. apparently, my subconscious likes eyebrows and teeth and hair.
no I am not proud.
(it must be the heat)
(or this stay-at-home mom gig)