Fanny backs, also known as belly bags, were always notoriously dorky. Even their names are dorky. In college, the director of residence life wore one and had some theory about it as a catalyst for people to talk about and laugh at him. Which was what he wanted, I guess. Then of course fanny packs were reclaimed by the hipster and now there's a new reason to make fun of people for wearing them--they are ultra hip, no longer ultra dorky. Or ultra hip BECAUSE they are ultra dorky. Fashion is weird. At any rate, I think they're brilliant. Purses without needing to use one's arms means free hands, no weight on one's shoulders, and no weird purse strap tan lines in the summer. Plus, try and pickpocket from a fanny pack located on someone's belt near their crotch. Difficult. A lot of boys and girls were wearing fanny packs at harvest of hope and Ashley and I decided that based on function alone, fanny packs are a good invention. Not wearing something that is functional because it is hip is as bad as wearing something that is not functional, because it is hip. As for now, I have given up on a purse and I just carry a backpack everywhere. Switching between a purse for work and a bookbag for bikeriding proved to be too much trouble and a good way to forget things.
On a happy st. patrick's day phone call with my somewhat Irish grandmother today, she referred to veggie burgers as "make-believe hamburgers." Like the plastic hollow ones that come with a Fisher-Price kitchen set. She's awesome.
I got fresh mint and made mint iced tea at work. Smell is the sense most linked to memory; it's a good way to pretend it's summer.
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