jennie
I stuff my pockets full of them when leaving a restaurant. It brings out my inner kid. I look around sheepishly to see if anyone has noticed, then pull one out and pop it into my mouth, pockets positively bulging.
I prefer them at restaurants. High, straight backs creating your own private enclave amidst a sea of humanity. Uncomfortable, yet comforting. I always imagine that I am in a more expensive place.
It's what my mother seems to want me to be. I'm not even opposed to it, although I hate the usage of the word. Reminds me of a house cat. Something tame. Something boring. Predictable.
I wish it really just meant, "Someone whose heart seems like a home." That I can do.
In two different places, in two different time zones. We are across the world with our wires crossing, sparks flying. I don't know quite how or why it happened, but here and there we are, and yet somehow nowhere. Yet still connected.