Bless him
January 9, 2003the boy at the coffeehouse wore a knit cap and a plaid shirt. he worked studiously on an old-skool ibook, shaking his right leg. a nervous habit. a twitch. an endearing one.
when i sneezed, a sneeze that shook the table and bounced off the walls, he turned, looked me straight in the eye and said “bless you.” then he smiled.
“thank you,” i swooned.
without warning, i sneezed again. by this point, polite boy had moved to a friend’s table on the other side of the coffeehouse. he turned and smiled again. “bless you.”
i shouldn’t admit this, but the rest of the time i sat there, i mindlessly doodled in my sketchbook, read the same paragraph 20 times, and tried so hard to make myself sneeze again.
it didn’t work.
I'm Christine, and this is a slice of my life—a sweet, rich, wildly indulgent slice that would taste really good with a scoop of Breyers vanilla bean ice cream. Read more >>
I run a darling, friendly, little graphic design studio.
I look on the bright side.
I take photos. Lots of photos.
I wish on stars and on websites.
I built my first web site 7 years ago and got 15 seconds of fame. (It changed my life.)
I launched, then relaunched, an online magazine.
I admitted to several embarrassing crushes.
I consumed more bacon than any human should and lived to tell the tales.
