Thursday, November 01, 2007

orangina

Love the stuff. Soda with a splash of orange. Maybe it's the idea that orange can come in a splash. And that Italians are responsible for determining how much of the orange to splash in there.

Oftentimes, when Ed and I are in a coffee shop, he'll ask for an Orangina. The guy hates coffee. Or tea.


A day of work and only work. I look out my office window, hoping for…something.

I see her: a girl, (young woman really, but did you notice how, after a few years, you start referring to young women as “girls” again?), in orange, taking a break on Bascom Mall. Which in itself is very orange.

She’s eating an apple and talking on the phone, all at the same time.

All ensconsed in orange. Without the soda. Can't have it all.


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1 comment:

  1. When I was in high school, I took a week-long trip with some members of my French class to Monaco. I had no idea how expensive it would be, and lived basically on Orangina, glorious baguettes, the occasional hunk of cheese, and pain au chocolate. I think I got most of my nutrition from the huge cafe-au-lait I drank every morning and evening, loaded with sugar.

    That was, I'm sure, the first of many great adventures in my life. I've loved Orangina ever since. Just now, I'm realizing that's one reason I like mimosas - I happen to be sipping one at this moment! -- so very, very much.

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