Pages Full of Words

Tomorrow I am buying a book. Its been awhile since I bought myself a new one. I've tried to get back in to the one or two that couldn't catch my attention before and I've come to realize that its not me, its them.

So tomorrow I am buying a book. I don't know which one, I never do until I see it and hold it and inspect the cover and the binding and flip the pages. I'm sure it'll be adventurous. And from some far off land. And I will bring it home, introduce it to my comfy reading chair, and lose myself in its pages full of words.

Confused and Speechless

Last night I went to see a movie with one of the hottest chicks in Winnipeg, everyones favorite Miss Quicksilver. We wandered in and as we paid for our tickets we spotted a rather gangly, rather awkward looking fellow up on the Dance Dance Revolution type arcade machine. We giggled and wondered why a fellow such as that might think that a movie theatre was the place to rock it out but thought not much more of it beyond that. However, as we passed him, making our way to the concession stand, something shiny caught my eye. Something gold and stripey made me look twice. They were running shoes. Fancy running shoes that not one, but TWO young men were wearing.

Now let me paint a picture for you. Once the shiny gold running shoes caught our eyes, we were naturally drawn upward to where not one, but TWO young men were sporting shorts and cut off tshirts. In November. In minus 3 degree celcius weather. In a movie theatre. On a thursday night. At 9:30. Adding to the curiosity of it all were the duffle bags they had. It was mesmerizing. What was going to come out of the duffle bags? Why were they in shorts? Why the fuck did their SHOES match?? I was staring so intently, trying to figure out how to take a picture discreetly and without a flash so as not to draw attention to myself, that didn't even notice when it was my turn to pay way too much for popcorn. I was hooked.

Suddenly, whislt getting straws and such, I smacked MissQ in the arm and said, ''Oh my good god they brought their own towels! They are wiping down the dance floor area with their own towels! Someone please explain this to me!"

It was disturbing and confusing and drawing a crowd of confused and disturbed looking people. No one knew quite what to do or say or think. Do you mock them? Heckle them? Cheer for them? What would they do, these shoe-matching, towel-toting young men? And then the music started.

It was like the rest of the world was suddenly blocked out. They were focused. They were intense. They were ready to Dance Dance like nobodies effing business. They stood there, reached their hands behind their bodies, grasped the bar (which I had assumed was their so that no one would fall off but apparenly its for balance??), and their gold lamme sneaks went crazy.

Their feet were on fire. Their brows glistened. They were in perfect unison. And it looked completely retarded. They danced like it was a perfectly normal thing to do at 9:30 on a thursday night. They danced like there was not a group of 10 eighteen year old boys staring at them, unable to process the scene, unable to even say anything rude or nasty because really? What was there to say. They danced like nobody was watching and like their lives depended on it. They danced like the really really bad dancers on the So You Think You Can Dance auditions who actually BELIEVE that they can indeed dance. And we could not think of a single thing to say. (ok, thats not entirely true. There were a few "What the fuck is that?" and "Holy crap thats messed up" 's thrown out there but thats it).

We stared and giggled and wandered off to our theatre and thought of nothing but roller derby for the next two hours. As we walked out of the theatre on a derby high, there they were. Still dancing. Only this time, much much sweatier. Well that explains the towels. Arms shiny, hair dripping, high scores flashing, still dancing. Thinking of it now, I still don't know exactly what to think of those two strange boys, in a movie theatre, on a thursday night, fully geared-up, for over 2 hours, dancing on a machine. Like I said to Miss Q after our first glimpse of the boys in action, it was like an episode of Degrassi gone bad.

Seeing Another Side

Today I saw another side to some people who often times seem pretty one dimensional. It was interesting. And refreshing.

Sometimes stodgy people are just really, really funny. Sometimes they make a whole room laugh. Sometimes they surprise you with their willingness to be silly and act goofy and look stupid in front of their peers. And sometimes they actually kind of know how to sing.

I laughed a lot this afternoon. I saw another side to someone who seemed like they just didn't have it in them. Refreshing.

Hey, I Know You

Do you ever have that moment of brief recognition? That snap second where you're pretty sure you know that person from somewhere and you actually remember where that somewhere is. Perhaps the name is familiar. Perhaps the face is familiar. Even the voice sometimes. But in that moment, you realize, ahhhhh THAT'S where I know you from.

And then there are the times you recognize a person but want to keep that recognition to yourself. That's the nice thing about a married name. They won't know who I am unless I tell them.

I met someone recently at a committee meeting. Her face was not familiar and it wasn't until our contact list circulated that I recognized the name. It was someone from elementary school, in my brothers grade, someone he never really hung out with. At all. And so I am stuck. Do I ask if she is THAT person? Do I risk the unecessary small talk? Will she grill me about family members? Is it worth the hassle? Or do I just carry on, not totally sure and not totally caring either way.

She's not seemingly someone I plan to get to know better, or add to Facebook, or put in touch with my brother. It would just give us that connection, that THING that makes the meetings a little less awkward and a little more cohesive. Or do I let the fact that we both love the thing we volunteer for so much be our common bond? I dunno.

Pick Me! Pick Me!

I'm so bad at picking favorites. I've had people ask me to pick my favorite this or my favorite that and inevitably, after much thought, I can sometimes narrow it down to top three. I hear other people throwing around their favorite band of all time or their one favorite meal they could eat forever and I just don't know how they do it. I can't even pick a favorite color!

Today a friend asked me what my all time fave band was. I couldn't even begin to compile a list, never mind pick ONE! Sensing that I was about to rattle off a list he opted to narrow it down for me. What was my fave band ten years ago. I did a little math in my head and was able to come up with an answer I was fairly confident in. Greenday. But only ten years ago and most certainly not my all time fave.

So I guess going forward if you want to know my fave something you'll need to be more specific. Fave movie STARRING ROBERT DeNIRO - The Score. Fave meal MADE ALMOST ENTIRELY OF CHEESE - my moms quiche. Fave song TO SING REALLY REALLY LOUD WITH IN THE CAR - I'm Your Man. Fave vehicle THAT I'VE OWNED - the sticker-mobile.

I guess I like too many things in a somewhat fickle, non-comittal kind of way. I attach things to my faves, like my fave boots for wearing with a skirt are not the same as my fave boots for wearing with leggings which are not the same as my fave boots for being in the snow which are not the same as my fave boots for puddle jumping...if I have that much trouble picking a favorite pair of boots, imagine forcing me to pick a favorite TV show? Reality or comedy? Documentary or drama? Who does that? Who can pick? Freaks of nature, that's who. And don't even get me STARTED trying to pick a favorite book. That would be like...well...like asking McK to pick a favorite princess!

Things I Must Admit

Lady GaGa can sing, her songs are all catchy and I like her.

I let McK sleep in my bed the last two nights. I shouldn't but she looks so cute and cozy.

I wish I had a pick up truck.

Adam Lambert's performance didn't bother me much at all. I knew he'd be the male GaGa and he was.

I can't wait for my father in law to move in to his new apartment strictly for the pool.

I'm not as patient as people think I am.

I love having cash in my wallet but never want to use it.

I told mck I'd put her in her bed once she fell asleep but I love looking at her too much to want to move her.

Rihanna really bothers me. Like, she bothers me the way Lady GaGa should.

I'm probably scoring a free and tasty lunch tomorrow when our new guy starts and all I can think is wow, there's so many other things I could do with that hour.

The Day The Cable Went Out

Tonight, rather randomly, at approximately 9:30 pm, our cable shut down. Normally not a bad thing to most people but we? Have a bundle. We have our phone, internet and tv through our cable company. So where one would naturally turn to the internet at a time like this, we couldn't. There was no one to call, nothing to watch, no site to surf. So what did we do prey tell? Why, we TALKED. Novel idea, no?

Dear Annoying Person (That Means You)

Dear Squeaky Voice Crazy Lady,
Just because I planned something and the person who asked for it to be done doesn't remember asking, doesn't mean I went ahead and did it without their authorization. I'm not a moron. That would be you. And when I hold my fingers to my head like a gun and pretend to blow my head off, well, I don't REALLY want to die, it just feels like I AM when you talk to me. Secretly, I give you the finger all day long.

Dear Target Lady Haircut,
Its so obvious that you have zero self confidence. The volume of your voice does not necessarily reflect that but you're too transparent not to see right through you. You're not cute. You're not funny. You're obnoxious and clearly raised by wolves who never told you that chewing on food loudly while you talk is disgusting.

Dear Twenty-Something Emo,
I get that it must suck that no other retail establishment would hire you. But accepting a cashier position at Walmart does not mean you let go of all your sensibilities. Why would you pack a bag of chips in with 2 jugs of milk? I realize that your mind is wandering over to that brooding, quirky-yet-pretty cashier at till 1 but come on now. Don't leave your common sense in the lunch room.

Dear Really Really Old Waitress,
He's really really fat. I see it. You see it. Everyone sees it. So why would you park him at a booth when the rest of the joint is empty? Give the dude a chair. Seeing him wedged between the booth seat and the table edge makes me feel bad for the guy. And makes me think your skinny little ass enjoys it.

Dear Lazy Doesn't Work A Lot,
When will you start to realize that the people who work around you work WITH you, not FOR you? When I email you a question, please refrain from turning it into something that I am now keeping track of for you. Because I? Am not a sucker. Sorry to disappoint.

Dear Creepy Finance Dude,
The way you hover around makes everyone feel like they need a shower once you're gone. Peering at people over the rim of your glasses perched on your nose also does nothing to further your cause. You've mastered the creep. Also, talking to me like you're flabbergasted that I might actually a) make sense or b) not have an effing clue what you're talking about makes me want to punch you right in the face. You're on the list pal.

Still In Love

I got a netbook yesterday. I had it all confirgured today to work with our wireless account at home. It all worked tickety-boo. And yet, here I am, writing my post on the blackberry. I don't know what it is that made me pick up the old girl and start typing. Is it force of habit? The fact that I can be completely horizontal while writing? The speed at which I have grown able to type? The fact that my bb will put periods at the end of my sentences for me with one click? Or maybe, even with a flashy new shiny red toy, I still love my sweet, unassuming little blackberry?

Or maybe the battery died on the netbook. Whichever.

Sometimes....

...I say yes when I should have said no

...I don't realize this till its too late and I'm knee deep in someone elses paperwork

...my boss surprises me

...I expect too much from people and then end up disappointed

...one email is all it would take

...I wish I had more time in my day

...I wish I knew how to fix it

...there's just nothing you can do

...you just have to figure out who to ask

...its hard to feel important when you don't feel like you are

...I am slack at seeing people that deserve my time and still need to work on that

...I am spoiled by wonderful women who bring lunch to ME

...I just sit and wonder

...thinking is a bad idea

...all I need is a good book

...I really have nothing to write a blog post about and instead I write this