Sour Deens.

I was having a conversation the other day with some friends and we were talking about super claustrophobic moments. Like how I can't be in a two door car in the back seat because I can't exit when I want and/or feel the need to. Or this one time when we were exploring in China and got onto a subway that seemed pretty empty at first glance and then all of a sudden a flood of people entered the car we were in. I kept expecting the doors to close but no, no, no the people just kept flooding in...which then caused me to slightly freak out on the inside. We were all holding our elbows out trying to forcibly protect the little ounce of personal space that we were quickly losing. Anywho...this is not a blog about claustrophobia...we can discuss that further another day. So, the other day when I was talking with some friends telling them this story, I said "we were all packed in there like sour deens." Jill looked at me and was like, did you just say "SOUR DEENS?" I paused. I thought that everyone I'd ever heard say the word sour deens was Southern (or something) because they'd always say it "sarrrrrrdeanes." Like, it sounded like it had twang on it. Nope, Kate, it's actually spelled s-a-r-d-i-n-e-s. Sardines. Not, sour deens. That's why people pronounce is sardines.

There was a solid stretch of laughing. Laughing at me, laughing with me. It was awesome.

I feel like this type of thing happens at least once a month...I find out I've been saying something wrong or didn't know the meaning of something. Keeps me on my toes.

HA! Don't be afraid to laugh at yourself. Don't take yourself too seriously. We are all in this together. (Remember when Jill thought seahorses weren't real?)