Today was fleamarket day. I made it through most of the rows before my stomach started to freak out over the fact that I’d eaten.

“OMGWTFBBQ!” cried my stomach. “What the fuck?!? There’s FOOD in here!”
“It was just a doughboy,” I reply. “Settle down and enjoy the lemonade.”
“STFU n00b! UR teh sux0rz!”

And that was why I spent 30 minutes at the fleamarket sitting on a bench outside the bathrooms.

However, on the way out I was stopped by a girl who liked my purse. Since no one expressed an interest in buying the little blue one I made, I stuffed my camera, wallet, and inhaler in there and have been using it for the past couple of days. And this girl just came right up to me, told me how much she loved it, and asked where I bought it. I told her that I’d made it, and she was pretty impressed.

“You start making them all winter and I’ll get you a booth here next summer to sell them,” my mother said as we were leaving. Monkeys and purses, all for sale at Rocky Hill next year. Looks like I need to get busy.