Cab Drivers Tell Me I'm Pretty

A blog that was supposed be made up of bits about cab rides and blurbs about beauty products but, instead, is about other things.

5.20.2006

Moving (me)

Some time ago the question was hypothetical.
Not now.

I'm leaving.

And I've no van to move my stuff.
So I'm doing it in cabs. And mom's car.

Which is sort of like a cab. Because I won't drive.
And she'll tell me how pretty I am (when I smile, fix my hair, wear a little lipstick, etc.) And I'll tip her and kiss her goodbye when we're done.
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