Gabacha loca

It is freezing ass cold here. Well, I live in So California, so that is pretty relative. It is really windy, too, and I swam tonight so my hair is still damp.

I decided I had better take the trash cans to the curb tonight instead of relying on myself to make time in the morning to do it. So I bundled up and went out, trusting that no one would be out and about.

Here is my outfit: calf-length yoga pants, a baggy sweatshirt, a microfiber jacket plastered in dog hair, two, count 'em two long mufflers, both blue, and a red-pink-and-purple sparkly crocheted hat.

I dragged the cans out and it was like the Fourth of July parade out there. The Thursday night futbol practice had just gotten done at the park and dozens of scantily clad sweaty guys were strolling past with their soccer bags over their shoulders and their shoes unlaced.

I could see what they were thinking as this insane-looking bundle of woman struggled with the cans: "Gabacha loca!"

I have to concur. I am a very crazy white woman.