It's the Little Things

-Yesterday I went to four different costume/resale shops around the East Lakeview area. I found a red trench coat at Ragstock that was two sizes (at least) too large and was missing a prominent button. I felt like a kid playing dressup in the clothes that mom is giving away to goodwill. Today I will go to a couple more places in my desperate attempt to become the nefarious criminal mastermind Carmen Sandiego. If I am not successful, my contingency plans are either a Hello My Name Is sticker ala Oz or Three-Hole Punch Cristina. I see nothing wrong with either of those plans.

-I think I had a delightful run in with several gang members (possibly former gang members) in my elevator at 11 PM last night. I mean, I don't want to be stereotypical or anything, but they appeared to have all kinds of gang tattoos. And they seemed thuggishly inclined. Friendly, but thuggishly inclined. One of them lives in my building and drunkenly slurred something at me like "heyshryathemhrrudaday." I replied "yes, I think so." That seemed to satisfy him and he nodded to the other two. One of them had an empty tear drop tattoo under his left eye. I wonder if he killed someone. I told them to have a nice night when I got off on the 9th floor. They all cheerfully replied back. I can tell that we are going to be friends.

-Remember Josh? No? Well, I didn't either, at first. He's the one who cooked with me in, like, February. We watched Fight Club and made a souffle and then never hung out or spoke ever again. Yeah, he called me the other day, which completely confused me. I didn't even know who he was until the next day, that's how much he took me by surprise. Anyway, he claimed that he'd been trying to reach me, (bullshit) and wanted to invite me to go drinking at The Hopleaf with a bunch of other people. I wasn't really paying attention to the phone call, because I was trying to figure out what was going on when I should've been listening, but I think he said something about his leaving town soon or something. He also invited me to sushi, I think. It all happened so fast! Is it just me, or is this totally weird? Why on earth would he want to hang out with me after such a long time of absolutely no contact. And, more to the point, we had a definite conversation where we agreed to no longer hang out. Why did he keep my number? Currently perplexed.

-Speaking of Fight Club, I've decided that is part of the reason that I want to do Roller Derby. It's the closest legal, female equivalent to Fight Club. I'm not even exaggerating. Looking online, I've seen galleries dedicated to the injuries that women get from this sport, yet they get up and play through the contusions and sprains, and on occasion, breaks. Badass, indeed. "If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?" These women put themselves through so much pain, and I can't even imagine the thrill that it creates. Plus, fun personas, and a true sense of team spirit. Funnily enough, this is the only team sport that I've ever been enthusiastic about doing, and I can't even skate yet. "I am Jack's smirking revenge."

-At work, I've taken to listening to classical music on repeat as I doing/avoiding doing my work. It certainly changes the tone of the day in a much more exciting way than listening to most of what's on my iPod. Current selections are In the Hall of the Mountain King and Danse Macabre. Winter is approaching, so I may get into a Wagnerian mood next.

-Current page count for da book: 9. I never said I was a fast writer.

-I think my next DVD purchase may be Pan's Labyrinth. I'd really like to see it again, at least.

-I'm shocked I haven't watched any scary movies yet this Halloween season. SHOCKED. I even have three different Hitchcock movies from Netflix waiting for me on my coffee table. I'm sorry, awesomely freaky movies. Maybe I'll get to you around Christmas.

-Currently reading American Psycho, however, so maybe that makes up for it. Patrick Bateman makes me more afraid of the yuppies in my neighborhood than those potential gang members from the elevator.

-Shredding may be my favorite work related task ever. I like to keep the binder clips as hunting trophies. When I look at them stacked in my drawer, I sometimes relive the thrill of the shred. Is that creepy?

-Tomorrow, I'm going to wear my Vampire t-shirt to work in celebration of the Halloween casual day. It's time my coworkers found out about me once and for all.

Excuse Me, I Have to Wash the Tool out of My Hair

Okay, so I just had a very interesting interaction at the bus stop on my way back from work. Here it is in its entirety. Italics represent my thoughts, but you could've probably figured that out for yourself. Behold how my foot sinks further and further into my mouth!

La la la. Waiting for the bus stop. Oh, that's a person I recognize. She was in my graduating class. Oh crap, what was her name? Is she one of those people who will make a point to not acknowledge me, because we both went to the U of C, or really friendly because of it? Oh god, don't look, don't look. Pretend you're looking at the street for the bus. You're not creepily observant, no siree. Oh shoot, she's coming up to me. Waving! She's waving now. What'shernamewhat'shernamewhat'shername? She's here. Quick, pretend you didn't see her until this very moment!

Me: Hi! How's it going?
Classmate I can't remember: Hi, do you remember me? We went to the University of Chicago together.

What'shernamewhat'shernamewhat'shername?

Me: Of course! How are you? I didn't see you. Liar.
Classmate I can't remember: Yeah, you're Cristina from San Antonio, right?

Crap.

Me: Um, yeah that's right...

I can't believe we don't remember her name. She was in that thing that we did before school started. She was nice. God, WHAT IS HER NAME? Why can you remember Buffy's middle name, and you're blanking on who this real person is? You're never going to be able to improvise, so you better fess up.

Me: Um, I'm really sorry, but I don't remember your...
Classmate I can't remember: Melissa.

Oh YEAH. We had that thing together.

[At this point in the narrative, the part of the Classmate I can't remember will be played by Melissa, whom I marginally remember.]

Me: Oh yeah we had uhm...
Melissa: HUM together.
Me: Right. HUM. YES! THAT'S RIGHT.

Oh, god, would you look at yourself? Why are you practically yelling at her? Overcompensate much? Oh yeah, keep gesticulating wildly, 'cause you don't look like a massive tool at all.

Me: So how are you?

You've said that like five times now, seriously. Is that my bus? Please let that be my bus.

Melissa: Good. So, are you still living in Chicago?
Me: Yeah, I work right there in that building.
Melissa: Which one?
Me: That one. The one I'm pointing at.

Okay, finally she's looking in the right place. Oh, I think she's still talking. I can't hear her. God, what if she's asking me something? Oh, she's done now. SMILE AND NOD. SMILE AND NOD.

Melissa: You went to the reunion thing a few months ago, right?
Me: Yeah, it was fun.
Melissa: Yeah, I saw you there. I wanted to say hi, but didn't get the chance to.
Me: Oh, yeah, it was crazy crowded.

Okay, now you've created an awkward silence. Quick be funny, or self-depricating, or clever. GOD, WHAT USE ARE YOU?

Melissa: Well, I have to go to the gym now. But I just wanted to say hi, because it was so nice to see a familiar face.
Me: Yes! So nice! It was really nice to see you too.

And she's walking off now. I think we just had a sitcom moment. A bad sitcom moment. You're kind of a dick. You know that, right? When's the damn bus getting here?