How do you say "hippie" in Greek?

Smells of home-baked spanokopita wafting through the air along with the sounds of laiko tragoudi (Greek folk music), Greeks and non-Greeks and part-Greeks flocking to take part in a celebration of great culture. Or maybe just to play Break-a-Plate. Opa! Grateful to have the chance to once again partake in the Greek Festival, I donned my "Made in America with Greek Parts" shirt and headed out hoping to score some pastichio and dancing entertainment. Well, despite the claims of the combo plate having said deliciousness, no pastichio was to be found, although I got over it quickly when I had a bite of the gyro. Yum! Opa! So, after lunch, a second round of coins was obtained for beers and desserts. Guess which one I went for. So I'm over in line and barely get a "I'll have a cookie and..." out of my mouth when the lady behind the table freaks out at my shirt. I'm not kidding, this is how the conversation went (slightly abbreviated because blogger might have a word limit on posts...seriously):

Her: "I love your shirt. What are you half Greek?"
Me: (I wish) "No, not quite that." (rather large fib)
Her: "Where did you get it?"
Me: "My sister made it."
"She made it????? (extreme amazement) Does she have any more?"
"No, just for the four girls in my family."
"Can I buy it from you? Seriously."
"Haha (no, you can't buy my homemade shirt from me)."
"Here, show this to (other Greek lady behind the table). Hey, look at this girl's shirt. Isn't that great? Her sister made it."
Next lady behind the table: "How much do you think she'd sell them for?"
Me: "Oh, probably at cost (mostly joking of course)."
"She should sell them here next year. She could make a fortune. How'd she do it?"
"Just a bleach pen. (I explain the very easy process)"
"Yeah, but it looks so perfect. Here, go show Teresa. Her sister made this!"
Teresa: "Oh my gosh! I love that. That's one I actually like. Not like the one that says 'Desperate Greek Wife.'
First lady: "I know, like 'Got Ouzo?' No I don't got ouzo. Or 'Greek by Marriage.' My husband would never wear that."
Teresa: "How do you do it?"
Me: "Just a bleach pen. (I explain the process again.)"
Second lady: "Oh, but that takes a steady hand. We could stencil it."
Teresa: "Yeah, look at how well this year's stencils went (holds up a nice visor stenciled with the Greek flag...I liked it. Not the visor, the stencil). Okay, you have to go over to the calamari stand and ask for Sophie and tell her Teresa said she should see this."

And then I got to finish my order "...and one of the custard." But I obligingly went and showed Sophie the wonder shirt (and explained the bleach pen again). Who knew, Michelle? If you don't pass your boards (you will), you can sell Greek shirts to excitable women.

So then, leaving the Festival, I head over to the Bonfils bus to donate blood, cause I got a call last week that my 8 weeks was up and could I please donate again. An hour later (mostly wait time cause the bus was small...no, I got rid of that blood fast once they got me hooked up--8 minutes 32 seconds) I'm off to ride my bike back home with a red gauze bandage around my arm. After stopping off at my apartment to grab my reusable grocery bag, I once again headed off for the grocery store to get fresh fruit and whole wheat pasta. With my reusable bag. On my bike. After giving blood. In a homemade t-shirt and birkenstocks. I've never felt so much like I belonged in Colorado in my whole life.