funny things Mom said last night

Okay, the "you learn something new every day" thing really isn't working for me. I just don't learn enough! And I can't always post every day!

Anyway, my mom is funny.

"Wiping up corn is hard. You pick it up, and then deposit it somewhere other place ... else."

Me: (pointing at floor) What is that??
Mom: A chicken tail.

you learn something new every day - day 2

I guess I didn't really learn anything new over the weekend. Not facts anyway. I learned that some various things happened with some various friends of mine, but that's all. Maybe I should watch more Discovery Channel and less VH1. Hee.

But here's what I learned today (already):

A clone is a drone. A CLONE IS A DRONE!!!

Actually, I have no idea what that means, but I overheard it from a loud phone coversation a couple cubicles away and thought it was amusing.

Oh, and I learned what Distribution Statement B is. But that is much less amusing.

Oh yeah, I also saw a picture of a Blobfish. It was pretty gross.

you learn something new every day - day 1

Let's test this theory.

Today, I learned some new things about Microsoft Outlook, which was necessary in order to fix the issue with the e-mails in my Inbox not wanting to be saved in a personal folder. Very useful information. Also, I learned where to find a specific type of document I needed in order to answer a question someone asked me that I did not know how to answer. Also very useful.

Can't wait to see what I learn tomorrow!!

'looza

Okay, I started writing this a week ago, so it's a little late, but here you go anyway.

Some highlights from my Lollapalooza weekend:

• The music (obviously): Daft Punk, The Rapture, Silverchair, Muse, The 1900's, Regina Spektor. These are the artists that stand out in my mind.


• Bringing a sweater on a whim on Saturday and being thankful that I did.


• Hearing a guy with a mohawk tell me he liked my hair.


• Settling a dispute between some drunkards sitting behind me.


• Catching up with some friends on Sunday.


• Watching a crane raising some photographers up over the crowd to take pictures, and nearly getting stuck up there.


• Several times accidentally finding myself in the pot-smokers corner of the park.


• Seeing a guy dressed head-to-toe in black (a suit!!) on what had to be the hottest day of the year.
• Beetlebaum (or however you spells it) introducing The 1900's.
• A random girl from the audience getting up on stage during The Rapture and managing to dance around for quite a while before security noticed she was up there.
• Regina Spektor being very gracious about the fact that half the audience wasn't listening to her.
• Getting a flip-flop tan.

a selfish post, so bear with me

Geez, I've been thinking a lot lately. About all sorts of things, as you may have noticed from recent posts. I just had a thought just now that relates to a thought I had last night. The thought I was having last night was that I find myself nearly impossible to categorize. I have some thoughts and opinions that may tend to put me in one "group" but those opinions are constantly fluctuating, and are always subject to change. I can recall times when I've said the complete opposite thing about myself than I've said before. (Does that make sense?) For example, in different conversations with different people at different times, I've said that I do not want to get married, that I'd like to get married but I realistically don't see it ever happening, that I always have hope and believe that I will some day get married, that I want to have kids, that I don't want to have kids and would rather adopt. Sometimes I don't even know what's true. Do I say things to be agreeable in some cases, and just to be contrary in others? Or are my moods so erratic that I really do change my mind that often? How do I know what's really true about myself? Even things as simple as my wardrobe are unfocused and wishy-washy. I've got clothes ranging from a lacy white bolero, to a brown hippie dress, to pants with chains hanging from them. Though maybe this is good because, given the right outfit and attitude, I can fit in anywhere.

The thought I was having this morning somewhat contradicted the one from last night. One thing I am sure of about myself is that I've never been one to choose any one person and call that person my best friend, which is why you'll hear me refer to some people as "one of my best friends." Ever since I was very small, I've said that I don't have a best friend, I have several very good friends. I always have said that I never wanted to have just one best friend because I didn't want those friends who were not labeled my "best" friend to feel hurt. Though this morning, I came to a different conclusion, and I'm actually surprised I'd never thought of it before. Maybe the reason I've never had a singular best friend is that I am afraid that I won't be that person's best friend in return - and that I will actually be the one to get hurt. I'm not exactly sure what's been triggering this bout of introspect, but I kinda wish it would go away.

Things I know for sure about myself:
I never call anyone "my best friend"
I'd rather fix something than buy a new one
I procrastinate
I'm not tidy
I like doing crafts and admiring my handiwork
I love baking, but hate cooking
I sometimes have to force myself to be sociable when all I want is to be alone
My default facial expression is a frown
I'm vain about my hands
I can sit around doing nothing better than anyone I know
I like dogs ... and cats ... but not birds ... unless they're wild birds ...

forgotten things

Do you ever have those moments when you remember something that you'd forgotten you'd forgotten? Like something you see or hear unearths a memory that you hadn't even thought about since it happened? It's almost like finding a video that you didn't remember buying, but you pop it in the VCR and think, "Oh yeah, I remember really liking this movie."

Well, that's happened to me TWICE in the past 24 hours.

Yesterday I was riding home on the El after having traded my Lollapalooza ticket in for the obligatory wristband, and I was reading the program booklet. I came across one band's bio, in which the author made a comparison to the band Pavement, and I immediately stopped reading. Pavement. I don't know much about that band, but I suddenly remembered that I used to know someone who was a huge fan. Who was that, I wondered. It was a girl who lived in my dorm Freshman year of college, she had really short hair, a Southern accent, and became pretty good friends with my roommate. Her name escaped me, and still does. But I hadn't thought about that girl probably since the last time I saw her in person. Prior to this recovered memory, if I'd run into her on the street and she insisted she knew me, I probably wouldn't have been able to place her. Unless, of course, she reminded me that she was a Pavement fan.

The second forgotten memory resurfaced just a little bit ago this morning. I was reading a blog where someone was recounting a tale of getting her wallet stolen, and I thought to myself, Man, I'm glad I've never had my wallet stolen. But then another memory came to me that I hadn't thought about in years. I may have never had my ACTUAL wallet stolen, but I had some things stolen out of my purse a few years ago when I was at my previous job. I worked at a gift shop, and we were doing inventory. The home office hired a company that came in and used little scanny things to record all of our inventory, after we'd already counted most of it and labeled all the boxes in the back with everything that was in them. One of the women who was with the inventory group looked a little shady right off the bat. And soon enough, we caught her stealing pieces of candy as she tried to separate herself from the rest of the group by going to the other side of the store to work. My manager and I knew about this, but we didn't want to tell the woman's supervisor right away. I don't recall what the reason for this was. But anyway, a little bit further into the process, I went in the back room to get some cash out of my purse to get a drink or something. To my horror, I'd left the locker unlocked, and when I opened up my purse, I discovered some key possessions were missing. My cash was gone (there was only $11, but still), my credit card was missing, and two checks had been torn out of my checkbook. I made a bee line to my manager and explained to her what had happened, and given the earlier situation with the candy, we were pretty sure we knew who had done it. Now we had no choice but to confront the supervisor of the inventory troupe. He took our complaint seriously and did a search and interview with all of his employees. Nothing turned up (of course, she would have stashed the stolen goods first chance she got). But since we'd also told him about the candy incident, the woman was instantly let go. She wasn't allowed to finish the inventory with the rest of the group, and was made to sit outside and wait, since they'd all arrived together in a company van. I felt bad for her, but hey, if you steal stuff and you're dumb enough to get caught, then you deserve what you get. I spent the next hour or so trying to get in contact with my credit card company to cancel the card, and putting a stop payment on the two checks. It could have been much worse. The funny thing about this story is that a few weeks later, the assistant manager was going through a box in the back room and she suddenly calls me to come back there. She hands me a neat little package that she'd pulled from the bottom of the box - wrapped up in two blank checks was a credit card with my name on it.