In keeping with the general ’90s tone of last night, I’ve decided it’s going to be a week of ’90s. (Or at least two nights of ’90s.) My boss and I were telling horror stories to my dear, little coworker yesterday; tales of life before technology. We described a high school career wherein one had to make plans before departing the home-front or risk an evening alone wondering where everybody was. A post-adolescence spent waiting for a phone call and wishing the hair iron had already been invented. If our car broke down, we had to depend on the kindness of a wayward trucker whose conscience outweighed his libido. Those were simpler times.
julie warshaw 