Feeling: amused
Listening to: electronic buzz
Reading/Watching: --

Nothing makes me laugh harder than trying not to laugh. I turn red. I start shaking. I sometimes squeak when I breathe in too sharply. My eyes tear up. And usually, I have to run away as soon as possible to allow the stifled laughter to explode, or else I will probably have an anneurism.

Today I met Wendy for lunch (we were going to eat at Bork's restaurant and surprise him, but decided that Macaroni Grill was less out of the way... I'll still come by sometime soon, I promise), for our fourth date. We made lunch last as long as possible, because we had so much to talk about (don't get me started about the time I made a passing comment about "soon you'll be much further away" and her eyes got all teary and I heard alarm bells screaming "CHANGE THE SUBJECT!!"), and then when the waiter was ready to drop-kick us out the door, we left to shop at Ross and find Wendy some jeans.

Instead, she found an adorable white skirt and some new running shoes, and I found a swishy buttery skirt and a pair of lime-green pajama pants with a butterfly on them, but no jeans. No jeans at all. But we had plenty of fun trying on clothing and finding shoes that Miss Mona would wear... but of course, not anything in my size. Because their shoes are stocked in sizes Midget and Yeti, but not size Katie.

Walking toward the checkout with our pitiful two items each, she mentioned that she had the "worst luck with lines," and I agreed. We both seem to choose the one line that is moving the slowest. To counterbalance the luck, we split into two different ones, both of which looked relatively short.

And the woman in front of Wendy began checking out, pulling things from her basket and setting them on the counter. And setting them on the counter. And setting them on the counter. Eight million pillar candles, and some more candles, and a big trunk (oopsie! with no price tag on it, someone will have to go check the price!), and some more candles...

And I'm looking at Wendy, dismayed, watching this woman unload her basket. Finally she finishes unloading candles, and she's chatting with the checkout girl, and Wendy looks at me and mouths, "I told you so."

Then the woman begins pulling some large clay pots out of her basket. And three pairs of pants. And more candles. And I'm standing, amazed, fighting the urge to laugh, as an astonishing amount of merchandise continues to appear from her (apparently bottomless) basket.

Then Wendy catches my eye again, as we're both fighting incredulous laughter, and mouths, "It's a Mary Poppins bag!"

That's when I have to look away, because I want to laugh so hard I'm about to cry. Because as slow as the checkout girl is being, ringing up the woman with the Magical Mary Poppins Basket, the woman in my line is walking over to help her, so we're both stuck. When I finally do check out, I walk outside and wait for Wendy, because Mary Poppins is still buying her eight million pillar candles.

When Wendy finally walks outside, she's in the middle of saying thanks for waiting, when I start laughing so hard I have tears coming from my eyes. We walk back to our cars, and wonder if the woman might also have some plants, or coat racks, or floor lamps in that basket, too.

I had a great day. I always have so much fun with her. And I'm going to say it, finally: it really, really sucks that she and her husband are leaving in a month (yay, military life). I am going to be very sad to see her go. But she swears they'll still visit sometimes, and mon coeur and I fully intend to drive to California every year to see his parents, so we'll stop by in Albequerque and see them, too. All is not lost. It's just going to be much further away.

And at least we'll always have Mary Poppins.

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