Yesterday on my home I stopped at a gastation to purchase a caffeinated beverage and some chapstick. I took my beverage and my 'stick back to the car, where I proceeded to apply chapstick to my lips and open my bottle so that I could imbibe my delicious liquid caffeine and continue on my harrowing night-time journey. To my great dismay the bottle would not open. I tried and tried. I did foolish things like shake the bottle around in my frustration. I yelled at it. Still it would not open. My feet were beginning to get cold, so I gathered up my dignity and pride and returned to the store, where I politely asked the clerk to open my soda for me. He did so with no problems. I felt stupid and thanked him.

When I checked my email this morning there was a message from Matt. I want to make his name a link, so that you could click on it and go someplace else and determine who he is and why I am mentioning him. But there's no where for me to send you, so you will just have to wonder. Actually, I guess that's all there is to say about that. That I wish there were some sort of reference material that I could give.

I like reference material. In my parent's house it is not uncommon to have to get up in the middle of dinner to go looking for the dictionary in order to clarify something. In the case of this happening is also not uncommon to be unable to find said dictionary, and eventually two or three people leave the table looking for it until someone returns triumphantly with the beaten dogeared old thing in hand.

They also have a world atlas that my dad has ended up bringing out probably 3 out of the 4 past times I've talked with him. And road map atlases - a North American one and a Michigan one. These are missing their covers and extremely dogeared and the staples are coming out and they have a specific map that they crease open to. They go through the road maps about one every three years.

Maps. yes.