I'll have white wine and a Snickers

My friend and I saw a Celtic band at the community center.  While there was no shortage of wine if you wished to purchase it, the desserts were disappointing.  Eyeing a basket full of Twix and Snickers bars, my friend wanted to know:  "Where are the Sebastopol desserts?  No vegan, healthy cacao desserts here?  What is wrong with this picture?!"

In my Bollywood class another dancer told me he used to live in Sebastopol.  "People there were so nice.  You'd come to a stop and the drivers would be like 'you go,' 'no, you go.'  I'd think, 'Somebody fucking go, I've got to get to work!"

"This little piggy went to market...
this little piggy stayed home in their yurt...
this little piggy played in the pesticide-free garden
this little piggy played in the dirt."

While asking for a root beer at the Rialto, I requested little ice in the drink.  The worker showed me how much he put in and I approved.  "I'm sorry to be picky, it's just hard to pay four dollars for a cup of ice," I explained.
He shrugged.  "One woman got mad at us last week for not having an organic popcorn option.  This is nothing."

My former co-worker when we were at the Barlow last Saturday watching the tourists:
"Are these people walking around here from Sebastopol?  They are not dressed like they are from Sebastopol.  And they are walking around drinking glasses of wine.  Sebastopolians walk around drinking yerba mate."

According to an animal medicine source:  "People are trying to make bats the new owl." 

A woman told her neighbor at the farmer's market last weekend:  "I'm waiting for a friend whose getting a massage, listening to drumming and eating seaweed salad.  There's really been no sign of Easter all day.  Except for pictures of Easter baskets I got from my grandchildren this morning, I would not have even known it was Easter Sunday."

I walked up behind someone at Community Market staring at several rows of healthy juices, herb-infused shakes and kombucha.  After a minute I asked him if I could grab a drink.  He turned to me.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  I was in the zone.  I'm not used to such a selection of healthy drinks.  They don't have that where I'm from."

Often when I emerge from my yoga class I walk past several people smoking who have stepped outside from the Main Street bar.  This week one slightly-intoxicated fellow asked me if I had just done yoga.  To which I replied yes.  He said:  "You have that yoga smile.  And you're wearing yoga pants."
Me:  "I have to say, yoga pants are not necessarily an indication of actually going to yoga in Sebastopol."


More license plates:
SLONOMA
LVNG JOY
ARIES I B
CHAI 5S





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