I <3 Colorado!

I've been out every night since last Friday with the exception of two nights. This means I'm either a) on a social roll; or b) ready for social overload. Last night I joined Linnet & her husband to go see Hot Fuzz, which I enjoyed. It's funnier the more cop movies one has seen; but it's also interesting to see that cop movies have a level of penetration that means even people who haven't seen them get the jokes. I didn't think it was as funny or sharp as Shaun of the Dead, and don't ask me to choose between it and Blades of Glory. Suffice to say, see it in the theatre with a crowd if at all possible. I'm learning to savor an environment of contagious laughter.

Today I let my hairdresser have her way with me, and am now the proud owner of a shoulder-length haircut that sticks out on one side, and long bangs that sweep across my forehead, but mostly get in my eyes. I can't promise I will look like this the next time you see me, because I am notoriously bad at styling my own hair.

My sunglasses broke, so I went and picked up a new pair, which look surprisingly like cop glasses. (I guess they used to be 'aviator glasses' and made a notable appearance in Top Gun, but no one wants to talk about Tom Cruise any more.)

My brother took one look at them and said, "Aren't you taking this Clint Eastwood thing a bit far?"

"What are you talking about?" I said. "These are 'cop glasses.'"

"Dirty Harry, Sarah," he said.

Which was one of those forehead smacking moments. (Duh! There were even a bunch of Eastood references in the movie last night.) But I think I like them anyway; but can't decide if they are a) badass b) ironic c) funny, or d) all of the above.

I also picked up an outrageously expensive handbag because I could picture myself interviewing for a job with it. It's a kind of mustard color, made out of buttery leather, with big metal zippers. I don't know what got into me. I'll likely return it, but for the time being, I'm strutting around the house in my new haircut, 'cop glasses', and outrageously expensive handbag feeling pretty dang good about myself.

Now all I need is a sassy, head-turning, dress and a pair of badass sandals. Oh yes, and a big, floppy, summer, hat.

The farmer's market opened today. I bought some young onions for a tart ("be sure to use the greens!" the farmer called. I told him, yes, I already had plans for them, ), an Austrian 'doughnut' (fried dough with an opening in the center for jam, which the Austrian baker called 'marmelade' even though it was strawberry.) a loaf of bread, and because I seem unable to stop myself, a lamb souvlaki from the greek food stand that also sets up outside the brewspot on Wednesdays and Fridays. There are also a lot of young plants for sale, which I may indulge in some other Saturday once I become convinced the ones I planted are no longer viable.

There were the usual old hippies, and young families, which means my fantasy of meeting Mr. So-n-so has yet to be fulfilled. Apparently he does not hang out at the Farmer's Market, at least not without his wife. (Speaking of which, I ran into G on the way there, which always brightens my day. He's so adorable, why does he have to be so dang young?) Then people came by on horses, tied them to a post, and did their marketing. It is a sunny day, with a clear view to the mountains, and of the weather moving in. Big storm clouds are amassing and already releasing the kind of moisture that doesn't hit the ground, but creates diagonal streamers across the sky.

I had one of those content moments thinking, "There's no place I'd rather be."