This and that
Oh, so much is kicking about in this little brain of mine:
-- First, that sentence just triggered a flashback to my days in high school youth group, during which we'd carry candles and sing, "This Little Light of Mine," which is a catchy ditty and will therefore be stuck in my brain all afternoon. You're welcome.)
-- I just ducked out to do some errands during lunch, and an older woman, clearly doing her Christmas shopping, looked a little bit dazed as I passed her while walking in the same direction down the street. I slowed a bit, and she asked me, sort of sheepishly, "Excuse me, do you know how to get to Lord & Taylor?" Which I did not, but I asked if she had the address, and she dug for a bit in her purse (after I guided her to the edge of the sidewalk so people like me didn't bowl her over because she, like seemingly every other tourist, just STOPPED. RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SIDEWALK.), and said, "38th Street and Fifth Avenue." Hooray! After nearly a full year of working in midtown, I felt confident that I could direct her (from our spot on 37th and Broadway) to her destination. But even better than me (me!) being able to give correct directions was that when I said, "Have a good day, and happy holidays!" she replied, "Oh, thank you so, so much! You just made mine a lot happier!" It's really the little things sometimes, I guess.
-- Speaking of which, while I was at the drugstore looking for last-minute giftcards for a couple of co-workers, a guy came busting through the Duane Reade just cursing his head off. "Motherf-er" this and "f-er" that, at the top of his lungs, seemingly to no one, not even a bluetooth that I could spot, although I was trying hard not to make eye contact. I always struggle with that, wanting to tell people to quit being rude and awful but usually just staying out of the way so I don't get beat up. My mother would probably excuse my not standing up for the little guy in this instance.
-- I know this is old news at this point, but that coach who last week tripped the football player as he was running down the field? I totally get that. I really understand just having a bizarre impulse and acting on it, absolutely without thinking, even knowing that it's the wrong thing to do. I could completely see myself doing the same thing, so I sympathize with the guy. I agree that he should have been reprimanded, as he was, but I really feel for the guy.
-- I am feeling oddly torn about the latest celebrity break-ups, although I think I'm secretly glad about Vanessa and Zac breaking up. Something about her just bugs me. I can't believe I know or care about any of this. But I was sad about Michael C. Hall and Jennifer Carpenter breaking up, especially given that they stuck together through his illness, but I guess sometimes that takes a toll on a relationship in complicated ways. And who knows about Scarlett and Ryan; I have never been a Ryan fan, because I can't get out of my head the awful, awful acting he did as Billy on that Nickelodeon show "Fifteen" back in the late '80s. I realize that all of the actors were kind of horrible, and he was maybe not even the worst (that award might go to "alcholic" Matt, who, you know, had a sip of beer at a party), but he was the most memorable to me.
-- Speaking of random knowledge from long-lost TV shows, at a party this weekend, a bunch of people were swapping stories of working in fast-food joints, a fate I was spared, so my contribution was, "Do you remember when Brenda on 227 worked at the fast food place and was so excited, but then quit after like a week because she always smelled like french fries?" Shockingly, no one did. Fortunately, I was able to pivot nicely to the fact that the Smelmooo's friend was on Jeopardy last week, speaking of random useless knowledge, so phew.
-- In my old job, I traveled to D.C. usually a few times a month, but I hadn't been back in a year until last week. It was actually sort of emotional, pulling into the train station and realizing how much of an outsider I'd become, and how much I missed the people I used to work with there. But I was happy to be back, and I had dinner plans with my oldest friend (or, I guess, with the friend I've known the longest, since we were 10. And it did strike me at dinner how we've both grown grey-haired and wrinkled, but how his face is otherwise exactly the same as it was 23 years ago), so I was excited for the day. Which turned out to be a bit snowy, although that was less of a problem than I've experienced in D.C. in the past. But the bigger problem was that once I was finally on my way home (scheduled to arrive around 11:45 p.m.), there were wires down on the train tracks past Baltimore, so we just sat, and sat, and sat. I got home at 6:15 a.m. Perhaps the universe is giving me a sign that I don't belong back in D.C.?
-- I'm reading "Big Girls Don't Cry," about women in the 2008 election, and I'm just struggling to get through it. I'm not even to the Sarah Palin part yet! I can't figure out why it's such a slog; anyone else read it? Next on my list: "When They Come for Us, We'll be Gone" (I have a longstanding obsession with Jewish literature and culture, despite not having knowningly known anyone who's Jewish until I was, like, 12 years old), probably returning to that theme with "Sarah's Key," but with a break first for "Freedom" (although I'm gazillionth on the waiting list) and the next book in Suzanne Collins's "Hunger Games" series, although MinnaRice keeps telling me that it'll be increasingly troubling for me to make it through those.
-- MinnaRice is coming to visit next week! I can hardly wait. I don't even care what we do. I still can't quite believe she's a West Coaster now.
-- But first, Christmas! I'm excited about our Christmas Eve menu, and having our first Christmas in our new house, and seeing all of our nieces and nephews all excited about presents and hopped up on sugar and adrenaline. It really is the best time of the year.
-- I totally forgot Tucker's birthday, which was Saturday. I know that he's a dog and that he has no idea; it'd be much worse if I forgot to feed him or something, but I couldn't help but feel totally inadequate. I will be making it up to him with excessive treats and tummy rubs at least through New Year's.
-- First, that sentence just triggered a flashback to my days in high school youth group, during which we'd carry candles and sing, "This Little Light of Mine," which is a catchy ditty and will therefore be stuck in my brain all afternoon. You're welcome.)
-- I just ducked out to do some errands during lunch, and an older woman, clearly doing her Christmas shopping, looked a little bit dazed as I passed her while walking in the same direction down the street. I slowed a bit, and she asked me, sort of sheepishly, "Excuse me, do you know how to get to Lord & Taylor?" Which I did not, but I asked if she had the address, and she dug for a bit in her purse (after I guided her to the edge of the sidewalk so people like me didn't bowl her over because she, like seemingly every other tourist, just STOPPED. RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SIDEWALK.), and said, "38th Street and Fifth Avenue." Hooray! After nearly a full year of working in midtown, I felt confident that I could direct her (from our spot on 37th and Broadway) to her destination. But even better than me (me!) being able to give correct directions was that when I said, "Have a good day, and happy holidays!" she replied, "Oh, thank you so, so much! You just made mine a lot happier!" It's really the little things sometimes, I guess.
-- Speaking of which, while I was at the drugstore looking for last-minute giftcards for a couple of co-workers, a guy came busting through the Duane Reade just cursing his head off. "Motherf-er" this and "f-er" that, at the top of his lungs, seemingly to no one, not even a bluetooth that I could spot, although I was trying hard not to make eye contact. I always struggle with that, wanting to tell people to quit being rude and awful but usually just staying out of the way so I don't get beat up. My mother would probably excuse my not standing up for the little guy in this instance.
-- I know this is old news at this point, but that coach who last week tripped the football player as he was running down the field? I totally get that. I really understand just having a bizarre impulse and acting on it, absolutely without thinking, even knowing that it's the wrong thing to do. I could completely see myself doing the same thing, so I sympathize with the guy. I agree that he should have been reprimanded, as he was, but I really feel for the guy.
-- I am feeling oddly torn about the latest celebrity break-ups, although I think I'm secretly glad about Vanessa and Zac breaking up. Something about her just bugs me. I can't believe I know or care about any of this. But I was sad about Michael C. Hall and Jennifer Carpenter breaking up, especially given that they stuck together through his illness, but I guess sometimes that takes a toll on a relationship in complicated ways. And who knows about Scarlett and Ryan; I have never been a Ryan fan, because I can't get out of my head the awful, awful acting he did as Billy on that Nickelodeon show "Fifteen" back in the late '80s. I realize that all of the actors were kind of horrible, and he was maybe not even the worst (that award might go to "alcholic" Matt, who, you know, had a sip of beer at a party), but he was the most memorable to me.
-- Speaking of random knowledge from long-lost TV shows, at a party this weekend, a bunch of people were swapping stories of working in fast-food joints, a fate I was spared, so my contribution was, "Do you remember when Brenda on 227 worked at the fast food place and was so excited, but then quit after like a week because she always smelled like french fries?" Shockingly, no one did. Fortunately, I was able to pivot nicely to the fact that the Smelmooo's friend was on Jeopardy last week, speaking of random useless knowledge, so phew.
-- In my old job, I traveled to D.C. usually a few times a month, but I hadn't been back in a year until last week. It was actually sort of emotional, pulling into the train station and realizing how much of an outsider I'd become, and how much I missed the people I used to work with there. But I was happy to be back, and I had dinner plans with my oldest friend (or, I guess, with the friend I've known the longest, since we were 10. And it did strike me at dinner how we've both grown grey-haired and wrinkled, but how his face is otherwise exactly the same as it was 23 years ago), so I was excited for the day. Which turned out to be a bit snowy, although that was less of a problem than I've experienced in D.C. in the past. But the bigger problem was that once I was finally on my way home (scheduled to arrive around 11:45 p.m.), there were wires down on the train tracks past Baltimore, so we just sat, and sat, and sat. I got home at 6:15 a.m. Perhaps the universe is giving me a sign that I don't belong back in D.C.?
-- I'm reading "Big Girls Don't Cry," about women in the 2008 election, and I'm just struggling to get through it. I'm not even to the Sarah Palin part yet! I can't figure out why it's such a slog; anyone else read it? Next on my list: "When They Come for Us, We'll be Gone" (I have a longstanding obsession with Jewish literature and culture, despite not having knowningly known anyone who's Jewish until I was, like, 12 years old), probably returning to that theme with "Sarah's Key," but with a break first for "Freedom" (although I'm gazillionth on the waiting list) and the next book in Suzanne Collins's "Hunger Games" series, although MinnaRice keeps telling me that it'll be increasingly troubling for me to make it through those.
-- MinnaRice is coming to visit next week! I can hardly wait. I don't even care what we do. I still can't quite believe she's a West Coaster now.
-- But first, Christmas! I'm excited about our Christmas Eve menu, and having our first Christmas in our new house, and seeing all of our nieces and nephews all excited about presents and hopped up on sugar and adrenaline. It really is the best time of the year.
-- I totally forgot Tucker's birthday, which was Saturday. I know that he's a dog and that he has no idea; it'd be much worse if I forgot to feed him or something, but I couldn't help but feel totally inadequate. I will be making it up to him with excessive treats and tummy rubs at least through New Year's.
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