Nicole

This is kinda sweet: http://www.keepitfields.org/

Hide your heart, girl. My brother once said that the guy from Three Dog Night consumed a larger quantity of drugs than any other musician who didn’t die of an overdose. I don’t know where he gets these facts. Dan Rydell never knew that one, I’m sure.

Well, from Sports Night to Ed, I need a favor. If you don’t mind getting two extra emails, one right away to confirm, and one when (if?!) it comes out, please add your address here to let them know we’re waiting for Ed on DVD. I hope that link was right. Why does amazon put so much garbage in their URLs?

Had that job interview today. I don’t think I’ll get it. There’s too many kids from the communist bloc countries, how can I compete with that?

The lady still hasn’t called me back about the house. It’s funny how much I already wanted it, kinda like that job in NY I was too scared to apply for. But it’s nice to want things again. Or rather, just to feel like there are more doors open to me than there are closed ones. Death to Kohl’s.

It’s also amazing what slips your mind, when you thought you could never forget it. Case in point: g94 8/22 p. 19 and g95 6/22 p. 20. So sad.

I bought a corduroy jacket tonight.

One less weird hangup. The past… must be left to the past.

Southfield tomorrow morning. The future still needs some working out.

And the present? Super busy and I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking. Drop me a line or give me a ring or something, if you like.

The ordinary need never be mundane. It can often be inspired. Occasionally sublime.

That said, today was the best 50 minutes of biblical-type discourse I have sat (and smiled, and nodded, and almost talked out loud) through in some time. And the article was one of my recent favorites (for obvious reasons) as well.

Work went well tonight also. Except for the part where there was a lady shopping for bathing suits, wearing only a bathing suit and a tank top. She came from the pool like that. Just decided she needed a new one, and went into Marshall Field’s with her nasty spider-veined, cellulited thighs hanging out. Only in Ann Arbor. Anywhere else, people would have either more class, more self-consciousness, or someone to do their shopping for them.

And I’ve been listening to Mr. Isaak’s “Forever Blue” album, which is my favorite of all of his. And you know I love my Chris. Anyway, the memory is an amazing thing. This album makes me remember all kinds of odd little bits and pieces of the past. Well, wasn’t it Chesterton or H.G. Wells or Auden (and wouldn’t they all hate my confusing them?! haha) who said that the past isn’t dead, and it isn’t even past? Oh, duh, I think it was Faulkner. Whoops, wrong continent.

My caffeine-deprived, headache-laden brain is trying to formulate something better of this. If it happens, I’ll post it.

“You did your best, life did the rest…”

Sometimes I think, Why do I work retail? I’m not that good with people. It’s long hours, not a lot of money, I’d be a better student without it…

And then something delightfully stupid happens.

Yesterday there was all kinds of racket in one of the fitting rooms. My two coworkers and I kept exchanging puzzled faces and whispers outside the door. This went on for close to 15 minutes.

Finally a face pops out. “The zipper broke and I’m stuck!”

This woman had crammed herself into a skirt about 2 or 3 sizes too small, and had the brilliant idea to try to zip it. The whole thing came off the zipper, not just the pull, but the whole thing that joins the two sides together. We tried pulling the sides apart, not happening. I thought maybe we could force the broken piece back on, and then it would seperate them. Nope.

My coworker, in another display of great thinking, gets a pair of scissors, and cuts the customer out of the skirt. Fortunately nothing happened, but I don’t think she should have done it. If there was an accident, the stupid customer would definitely sue Marshall Field’s, even though she’s the genius who trapped herself in a skirt. Let her cut herself out. But she lucked out that my coworker helped her, because the mood I was in, I would have made her buy the skirt and wear it out. That’ll teach her she’s not a size 12.