AUGUST ANYONE?

The beauty that is August is upon us. Didn't I tell you that August would be a star that overshadows its bastard brother July?
This probably goes to show that I'm always right but following are discoveries made this month, which have proven otherwise:

1) Crepes are great: I don't know how I managed to go 27 years without a single crepe but I suspect immigrant parentage had something to do with it. While the fact that my friend with whom I had crepes last weekend is also the product of immigrant parentage likely proves that my suspicions are ungrounded, I'd rather not dwell on such details.

2) Eating out doors = not so bad, in spite of annoyingly vicious city flies.

3) Sometime it's not such a bad idea to answer the parents' phone, even when the caller ID warns you not to do so.

4) Jacques Torres' giant chocolate chip cookie is all hype OR I have defective taste buds. I think most people would go with the latter of the two choices; in any case, I always thought that JT's giant choco chip cookie would be much better. I was wrong.

5) According to an older Pakistani lady my mom and I ran into earlier today at the Pakistani Independence Day Street Fair that my father organized, I’m too old to get married now. And here I thought I actually had a shot someday at matrimonial bliss.
Alas.
Oh well.

6) Point number 5 was soon proven incorrect as about a dozen women of varying ages announced that they wanted to play matchmaker for me.
Alas.
Oh well.

7) Pakistani street fairs = not so bad.

8) Pakistani street fairs = a pretty damn good time.

9) Walking around a Pakistani street fair for 6 hours = brutal (I always knew this to be true).

10) It ain't no thang: If one believes that it's no big deal, even the biggest deals will inspire only the slightest of shrugs.

11) Life's good. Life's chill.

12) Stepping outside of my schedule once in a while won't kill me.

13) Professing my love for people I love is grand (but I always knew this to be true as well. I'm a notorious dropper of "I love you"s--and I mean it every time--and I follow it with loud, smacking, trippy kisses. This annoys the hell out of my mother, inspiring countless "I-can't-believe-you-come-from-me" looks, but everyone else seems to be all right with it).