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The Iowa Story Vol. 4
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
♦ 5/15/2007 11:30:00 AM 2 comments

My last night in Iowa was full of adventure. Actually, the whole day was.

Love Duck's grandmother made us a birthday cake that morning so we went over in the early afternoon and helped decorate it. (I'd show you a picture, but I don't have any of those yet.) We made a beautiful rainbow and then blew out some candles. Of course I made a wish, but the wait to see if it comes true is going to be a mighty long wait. I'm just going to say that. It was great fun. The cake was pretty good, but I decided I'm not such a fan of lemon/strawberry flavored frostings. Just leave it at chocolate, rainbow chip, or vanilla, please.

Love Duck and I then drove down to Des Moines to this way awesome shopping mall where we almost got lost on the way there because her mother had told us to turn at the light, so we did, but it wasn't THE light. And that was exciting trying to get back on the road. But we found it soon after that and arrived safely in A Shopper's Heaven.

Our first stop was Brighton where Love Duck purchased a gift for her mother (due to the holiday that occurred on Sunday). Our next stop was somewhere that I will not mention, but items were purchased there by one or both party members and shall be kept secret for the duration of my life. So don't ask, because I won't tell. This one's going with me to the grave.

And then we had an adventure because Love Duck's stomach was suddenly acting quite odd. It was nice for me to be able to sit down for a few, though, because I was wearing some not-nice walking shoes.

We went to a few other stores, but then, THEN, we found Sephora and I fell in love with make-up all over again. But not the prices. So I didn't buy anything. But I wanted to! And I still do. But it's dang expensive and I don't actually NEED make-up or anything like unto it because I've got plenty and I don't even use most of what I have (as is evidenced by the fact that I've had some of it since 9th grade and beyond).

It was around this time that we decided we were hungry for food, so we walked on over to my favorite place ever, ordered enough food for four, ate enough for two (well, I did), and began to feel very... full. So full that apparently my eyes sort of watered up as I told Love Duck that I needed to go lie down (so she said, I didn't notice any watering going on). We wobbled out of there and went to the car where we rolled down the windows and I leaned the seat back as far as it could possibly go before turning on my stomach and stretching out. And, even though I could hardly breathe, it felt wonderful and I was soon able to move and walk like a person again rather than a skin-covered blob.

The rest of the shopping adventure was short lived because the mall was about to close, but we did go back to Sephora and Love Duck bought me my birthday present (some luscious lip gloss that I had wanted from the moment I first found it).

Because the mall was closing we left, obviously, and made our trek to the Ghetto. You think I'm joking, but I'm totally not. I was sort of afraid for our lives and very afraid that Love Duck's car might be in non-existence the next morning when we would need it to get me to the airport. See, Love Duck's Aunt S lives in the Ghetto and has lived there since before it was actually ghetto; we were staying at her apartment so that we wouldn't have to get up so early the next morning to get me to my plane back to Utah. Anyway, Aunt S met us outside and walked us to her apartment. Kitty Shoby from Mars was then introduced to me (the cat, perhaps not so obviously) and actually let me pet her, which I guess Kitty Shoby isn't really a people cat, but hey. No complaints here.

The next morning Love Duck's car was found safe and sound and we got me to the airport with plenty of time and I had no problem getting on my flights.


Also, this may or may not be post number 400.

Always remember: wherever you go, there you are!

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"I think I know how it is to be grown up; it's when you feel how someone feels that isn't you." -Frances Griffiths

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