My hosting service sends out a monthly newsletter. This month, the hosting service decided to start supporting a worthy cause, and they’re enthusiastic about it. I know because the newsletter reads:

“New DreamHost Charity: Leukemia!”

Apparently, Leukemia is something we should all be excited about.

Every Sunday this month, everything at the Goodwill thrift store is 50 percent off. I wait about fifteen minutes for a dressing room. Before I get in, the clerk clears everything out. Everything, that is, except for a single boot. That boot is in the corner, soaking in a puddle of urine. I notice it a few minutes into trying on clothes, and come out of the dressing room horrified. A woman with a baby stroller tries to push in after me.

“I’d wait for the next one,” I say. “There’s pee in the corner.”

She considers this, peeks in, waits until she thinks I’m far enough away to have forgotten about her, then enters anyway. With her baby. I approach the sales clerk.

“Someone peed in the dressing room,” I say. “You should call someone to come and clean it up.”

“Huh,” he says. “Yeah.”

Then he goes back to hanging clothes.

I go home and shower twice.

Scenario: The Starbucks near Bryan’s office features Overzealous Counter Guy.

OCG: How’s your weekend? Not long enough, huh?

Woman: No, I guess not.

OCG: Yeah, me too. What can I get ya?

W: Do you have any lowfat muffins?

OCG: Aw. We’re out… Why not an apple fritter?

(Woman shakes her head.)

OCG: Awww, come on.

(Woman shakes her head.)

OCG: You sure? You can do it!

W: No. I’m afraid I can’t.

I remember sitting in class as a child and thinking to myself, “It’s 1981, I’m in kindergarten, and Ronald Reagan is president.”

I didn’t know then what being president meant, and President Reagan was a symbol to me, like our flag. I associate him with the part of me that still tears up when I hear the national anthem, and the part of me that knows I am fortunate to have been born here–even as I cringe at how our actions as a country have alienated much of the world.

President Reagan was the first president I remember, and I thought of him as a five year old thinks of her parents: benevolent, wise, infallible. I now know that isn’t completely true, of him or my parents, but it’s the memory of that feeling I miss, as much as the man.

Ronald Reagan was my president, and I adored him. I’m sorry he’s gone.

Best headlines from this month’s Martha Stewart Living:

• Frosting Like a Pro
• Mum Pillow Covers
• Setting a Course By the Homemaker’s Star
• Embellish Envelopes