The Life of the Idle Rich

I just received an email from Sim, Sim, Sima (my mother). I had emailed her telling her that I had run into a family friend, Judy, at Starbucks, her reply, "you're living the life of the idle rich." I suppose that Judy is rich and idle but... what about me? I'm really idle and poor. I know why I sat at Starbucks every day pontificating (unemployed and hoping to collide with a sexually ambiguous, emotionally confused, third year history major pretty boy [M Brad and Rama fit the same bill]). My fellow patio dwellers? Are they really just idle and rich? Are their lives that boring... The next MILF I run into at Starbucks I'm going to suggest that she start a blog. I'd read it. However, I'm going to impart you all some etiquette tip of an idle poor person: 1) Faux Hill Village Etiquette Tip Numero Uno: The milk/sugar bar at Starbucks is NOT, I repeat NOT the place to reconnect with your teenage daughter. Pour the milk, grab the packet of sugar and go people. And now having emailed the Rama I now begin the pathetic wait with that sick realization that I'm probably not going to get an email from him at all. I did, however, locate him on a map of Alberta (he provided me with the coordinates in his infamous 1000 word email and challenged me to find him, so I'm not that crazy people, give me a modicum amount of credit.) Literally the Rama is in buttfuck nowhere. Insert sexual innuendo joke at your own risk.