A Penny Earned, Is A Penny Overcharged: When I Say "Fun," You Say "Math!"

This evening, post-work, I had to go to the grocery store for litter and cat food (It's in my cats' contracts, hence "had").
_____

Sidenote: Whenever you use your "value" card, your name prints on your receipt. Now my local Dominicks, in an effort to raise the bar in customer service, addresses you by your name as they hand you your change. Example:

Cashier: "Thank you very much ...Ms. Phillips ...er, Phelps ...You just saved $1.63! Have a great day, Ms. Phillips!"
_____

As I pushed my wheely-cart out of the check-out lane ($1.63 saved in tow), I overheard a woman at a nearby lane.

Woman: (to cashier) "Um, yeah -Excuse me? Ah, yeah ...You overcharged me 4 cents on an item!"

Let's stop and think about this for a moment ..."overcharged" ... "4 cents" ...Hmm. Memorial Day-eve, grocery store that is closing (early) within 5 minutes and this woman has been "overcharged" and took the time to compute "4 cents".

This moment has stuck with me throughout my evening (in my defense, I've been doing laundry which lends itself to such thoughts) ...I haven't been able to shake it for two reasons:

1. The fact that the guy in front of me, attempting to purchase what could be argued as the bare necessities (orange juice, milk, Safeway-brand cereal, bread, sliced cheese and I think I saw some bananas thrown in the mix) was turned away because his Link card wouldn't go through, after multiple tries. While the man behind me huffed and puffed at the delay, I took a nonchalant stance, polite smile and caught up on my tabloid headlines (Kelly Ripa is going to make her marriage work and apparently Tammy Fay has a lot to say on her deathbed). I would have faked a charlie horse if it would have eased any of the embarrassment the man in front of me was obviously feeling, as he apologetically left the lane.

2. Four pennies, 4 cents. Just what were this woman's intentions with what could arguably be four tarnished pieces of obsolete currency? And maybe more importantly, what on Earth can you buy nowadays for 4 cents?

After leafing through Dominicks' latest Sunday supplement, calculator at hand, I came up with a semi-accurate/quasi-mathematical list of items this woman could have purchased with her 4 cents:

-1/2 of 1 California sweet cherry
-1/16 of a pork spare rib
-The crumbs at the bottom of 1 bag of Lay's Classic potato chips (Lay's latest slogan is "100% joy," 4 cents barely teeters on 1% of joy)
-1 thimble's worth of Corona beer
-What I could only compute as a pinhead of Lucerne colby jack cheese (which is only a step above government cheese)
-The misplaced ugly stem of 1 Claussen pickle
-2 kidney beans (minus icky canning goo ...But only through Sunday, when the sale ends and then it's only icky canning goo)
-The butt end or a thumb nail's equivalent of 1 Ballpark frank
-The skin of 1 Vidalia onion
-Less than 1/64 of 1lb. of rainbow trout (maybe a fin or if the fish monger was in a charitable mood, 1/2 a tail fin)
-1/2 of 1 peanut, unsalted
-According to my calculator: "She's not getting any swordfish"

I took it a step further and computed:

-15 seconds worth of 1 minute of long distance, which equals the "Hel" of "Hello"
-1/2 minute as a Dominicks employee (according to hourly wage)

Overall, she could never afford my personal fee for the amount of think-space this mere moment has cost me over the course of this evening ...And I'm sure you have your own fee ...I mean, you read this, didn't you?
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Sidenote/Self-Indulgent Promotion: My first piece/review for Literago (Chicago's own literary news/info go-to spot) has been posted ...Please feel free to give it a look (or two) and while you're at it, browse the rest of Literago's offerings. A special thanks to Gretchen and Eugenia.

Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before [Working Title: There's Shit In My Eggs]

Redline, southbound, 1030AM, en route to work:

[A couple seated facing the train's doorway, a few black bags amongst them. Guy dressed in jeans, faded black leather jacket, a haphazardly placed ball cap. Woman hair completely tucked up a hankerchief, tied @ the front. Both talking @ a volume that won out over the sound of the train. I take a nearby seat].

Guy: "Gimme some fuckin' pancakes, some motherfuckin' syrup ..."
Woman: "Powdered sugar! Some fuckin' powder sugar!"
Guy: "Some motherfuckin' pancakes with syrup and some motherfuckin' powdered sugar!"
Woman: "I'd do that for you! I put some powdered sugar on that shit!"
Guy: "Yeah, put some damn syrup, some fuckin' whipped motherfuckin' cream, powdered sugar! Gimme some fuckin' pancakes, bitch!"
Woman: "Strawberries!"
Guy: "Shit yeah ...Strawberries. I love anything red. I love anything red so pile on some fuckin' strawberries!"
Woman: "Fuckin' bum o'clock!"
[Mental note: ??]
Woman: "Shit eggs! I put some fuckin' syrup on your shit eggs!"
Guy: "Shit eggs! Damn right you put syrup all over that shit!"
Womam: "Shit eggs for breakfast!"
[laughter w/ the woman repeating "shit eggs" 4+ times]
Guy: "What the fuck you talkin' bout bitch!?"
Woman: "I got your bitch right here! I be a bitchy bitch ...Not Richie Rich but a bitchy bitch!"
[laughter]
Guy: "Jay-Z is a fuckin' prick"
Woman: "You a man after my own heart! This car be rockin' n' rollin'!"
Guy: [mock Jamacian accent] "Come to my island!"
Woman: "We be in Hawaii"
[woman starts to do some for of hula. I stand up, my stop is next]
Guy: "Look @ that girl ...What she wearin'? Look @ her STYLE!"
Woman: "Oo leave her alone"
Guy: "For real ...What color that coat? I want to go shoppin' with her! Get me some platform shoes!"
[laughter]
Guy: "I take her to Target!"
[I arrive @ my stop + I step off. I could hear their laughter as the train pulled away]

For the record, the coat I was wearing is orange, though recently a coworker referred to it as mango. If only it were red ...
____________

Lately, I've been thinking of all the conversations that I routinely have ...Chances are you have a few yourself. Banausos conversation at it's finest. Like those stories that fit a certain topic, though those around you change ...Moments where a story that you've told a handful of times, fits perfectly within context ...Or explanations to the usual questions "Where are you from?" or "What do you do?" ...You know the same pre-rehearsed answers, that will never change and you tell them the exact same way, each time.

I've been able to concoct a list of my most popular repeat-offender explanations that make their way into my conversations almost weekly. Such a answers are near auto-pilot by now and chances are I've probably said these exact same things to you or around you.

1. "So what do you do?," "Do you work retail?," "So are you a student?," "Do you work in such and such an industry?" [insert: art, design, anthropologic, music, literary, coffee, modeling, health, land surveying, extreme ironing, etc.].

Auto-pilot Answer: "I work for a non-for-profit, no-kill cat shelter ..." blah, blah, blah ...Then I mention that I got into it because I have a diabetic cat, which turns into: "He's insulin dependent, 2x daily," "Yes, injections, twice daily," "No, cats can develop diabetes ...It was a big shock when he crashed," "It keeps me busy, I like that ...If I had to work in a cubicle, I'd sceam. This job keeps me on my toes." I then add a few comments about how it's a satisfying job, I feel as though I'm doing something worthwhile, noble, that "No, I don't plan on being a vet," "Sure, I like animals," which goes into my "I'm not a crazed cat lady" disclaimer and I sum it all up with "Kittens are overrated," "I can't believe I have 3 cats, I wonder where they come from most of the time" or "I was a dog person when I first moved here." Then I try to backtrack and mention art, design, writing, certified nutritionist "but I won't tell you to get rid of your microwave!".

2. "Where'd you come from?" or "Where are you from?"

Auto-pilot Answer: "Oo well, I moved here from Michigan BUT I was born on the east coast," which is followed with a brief and longer than need be explanation: "Well, I was born in New Hampshire, spent time in Boston starting @ 3 mths. [insert surgery/birth defect story which stars the Boston's Children Hospital and hand motions to my upper lip. Person: "I would never have noticed," Me: "Thank you, I usually tell those who do notice I was attacked by a dog" (cue the awkward laughter)]. I mention living for 2 yrs. in Houston, then Michigan and that I moved to Chicago 5 yrs. ago "on my birthday, with a kitten I had adopted a week before. I had never seen my apartment until the day I moved in".

3. "Is that all your real hair?"

Auto-pilot Answer: "Ah yes, it's my real hair," "Yes, it's all mine," "Yeah, I have a lot of hair," and/or "I used to have short hair but I've been growing it out for about 3 yrs. now. That's what you do when you've had your hair short for quite some time. You cut it for a change and then you grow it out for a change. Those the brokes." And the omnipresent: Person: "Did you do something different with your hair?," Me: "I washed it! [har har]".

4. "Do you need room for cream/sugar?" or "You drink your coffee black?"

Auto-pilot answer: "No thank you, just black ...I'm one of THOSE people" [I'm not even really sure what I mean by that when I say it ...It could be a pre-caffeinated attempt @ chit-chattin' charm]. "I'm a coffee purist," or I break into some long-winded mini-rant about how real coffee drinkers just drink black, making mention of a repeated "just black" run-in @ Dunkin Donuts (Yeah, that story ...You all know it) and I probably sprinkle in a "I'm a coffee snob," here or there.

5. "So you're a vegan?" or "You don't eat any meat?"

Auto-pilot Answer: "Yes but don't worry, I don't have any videos for you to watch or pamphlets for you to read," which is followed by "It's really just for myself, you can eat meat in front of me I won't utter the word 'murder," I just really don't have the taste for meat," and in some half-ditch effort to seem relatable "I was raised in a steak eating family," as though to reassure you that I'm not really from the planet Crouton. Sometimes people will inquire what I do eat and then I spout (not sprout) off about my love for falafel and how I love fiber. Actually, my love for fiber could be a sub-auto-pilot answer to this question -Which ends with "Orange Metamucil tastes like flat orange soda -I love it!" [Though, I think my new response will be "I love anything red!]

6. "So what kind of music do you like?," "What do you listen to?" or "What kind of music are you into?"

Auto-pilot Answer: [blank stare]

The Dawning of the Ridiculous: Last Night I Didn't Get To Sleep Enough

This could be completely ridiculous or completely spot on ...Truth is, I'm tired. I have a day job and in turn my feet hurt (and I'm left with the feeling of accomplishment of a job well done ...Which I add only as an attempt to not seem like some ungrateful day-jobber). I've spent my day sounding like a Lorca poem:

"At 6:30, in the morning ...I awoke.
I woke up and it was 6:30, in the morning.
It was morning, 6:30, I woke up.
I've been awake since the time I woke up ...6:30 ...in the morning"

And that is why I'm writing ...Not about work, mind you but something of equal importance (gracious bonus points: though it's hard to top the feeling of accomplishment I feel when it comes to a job well done) ...No, no.

The 5th Dimension. You know, "Age of Aquarius," "Good Morning Starshine" and of course the uplifting little ditty "One Less Bell To Answer". Still with me? Good (gracious bonus points: thanks).

I live in a strict NPR-zone ...I wake up (You know, at 6:30 ...in the morning) and flip on the radio ...I boil water for coffee during Eight-Forty Eight and then sit down to my usual newsy-tidbit websites while the BBC Hour takes the air, shower before Fresh Air comes on and then it's out the door by World View or Talk of the Nation.

However, in between it's another story ...Especially at work, for whatever reason regardles of reception I just can't concentrate on NPR while working ...So, in turn, 94.7 Oldies it is!

Anyone who knows me (beyond my defused pale mirrored complexion or my love for the color orange) knows that when I'm feeling a bit low, a touch mellow or could use an artial flutter (sans heart disease), just turn on the local oldies station. Give me Diana Ross and the Supremes, for pete'ssake let me have some Motown (preferably of the Hittsville USA-era, before Mr. Gordy let it all go Universal).

[I'll get back to the 5th Dimesion quintet that originally sparked this semi-coherent "post new blog," in a moment]

Quick sidenote: Today, on Oldies 94.7 the theme was songs w/ female names, honoring women or including the words "Mom," "Mother" and/or "Mama/Momma" ...Which sure, made sense being Mothers' Day and all ...So imagine my surprise at the near on the hour play of "Devil Woman," throughout the day.

Ok, the 5th Dimension ...Have you ever really paid any attention to their lyrics? Namely the lyrics for "(Last Night) I Didn't Get Any Sleep At All"? Ok, I've lost you but I'm determined to see this through (and I've been awake since ...6:3 -Oo nevermind). A quick run through:

"Last night I didn't get to sleep at all, no no/ I laid awake and watched as the morning light washed away the darkness of the lonely night"

So he/she can't sleep, nifty little riff on "watched" and "washed" ...But then:

"Oh, last night, I didn't get to sleep at all, no no/ The sleepin' pills I took were just a waste of time"

C'mon now. Sleepin' pills? What?

And that folks is just the sort of anti-climatic result to a lukewarm spark of amusement, left to simmer throughout the day when you wake up ...at 6:30 ...in the morning. That's all I have and now I must post this out of sheer stubborness for spending the past 30 or so minutes in the glare of my computer, rambling about some quasi-one hit wonder super group that did an awful cover of the Beatles' "Ticket To Ride" before slipping into the post-"dawn of the Aquarius" abyss.

In a grab-a-bucket-attempt to save this sinking post, I'll make a quick mention of my Mothers' Day:



I've tried to call my Mother 6+ times today to wish her a "Happy Mothers' Day" and let her know that I did indeed get her a card and it will undoubtfully be addressed, complete w/ stamp and en route to her mailbox within the next couple of days.

Ring, ring, ring ...Supposedly her answering machine is broken so I couldn't leave a heartfelt, thoughtful message ...But I will say this, I have quite the Mother. She's been my biggest fan from day one and has faught many a battles for me when I myself couldn't and I'm sure both her and her caller ID are well aware of just how grateful I am for all that she has been, all that she is and all that she continues to be.

Earlier today:

Front Desk Guy: "Today is Mothers' Day!"
Me: "Yes it is ...I'm about to call my Mother right now."
Front Desk Guy: "Your hair is long."
Me: "Yes it is."

Sidenote: Before posting, I did an album search on the Diana Ross + the Supremes collection that I am in fact listening to @ the moment of this post. I came across this:

"Diana Ross + The Supremes: #1s (Eco-Friendly Packaging)"

...Ain't no mountain high enough, Mother Earth.

"Jordyn, You Are An Excellent Titler": Compliments As Titles

Yes, it's been a while. Two weeks, at least -Oo my!

The remnants of my seasonal sinus-cold are all but the occasional cough.

I spent a week with my vocal cords on the "Chewbacca/Bea Arthur" setting and had to overcome my longtime fear of blowing my nose in public (which goes all the way back to grade school. I was often put off by classmates who shared their congestion with the class and my voyeuristic teachers always put the box of Kleenex in the front by the pencil sharpener. Maybe my usage of "voyeuristic" is unjust but it won out over my next option: sadistic. And maybe I'm a bit bitter that I can't blame this wandering sentence on the Dayquil I'm no longer taking, hmph).

I even broke down and purchased a mini pack of tissues, popular with grandmothers, the world over. Actually, I'm half tempted to keep a mini pack of tissues in my bag (hear me out). They're the perfect prop for days when you just didn't get enough sleep, maybe you were a bit rushed on your way out the door and simply not looking your best ...Just pull out a tissue and mock a muffled cough and suddenly "Wow, that girl looks like hell," turns into "Aww, she's sick. Poor girl, I bet she looks spectacular and is the picture of health, otherwise ". I found myself doing this very exact act, if you will, while out in public. Sure, I was technically sick but I felt the need to make it more obvious to the googley-eyed public, as I awaited an inbound train. I'm giving you pearls, here. That day when you just can't be bothered to shower: mini tissues. Try it. That one's free.

What I'm trying to get at is my introduction to Throat Coat tea, from Traditional Medicinals. Amazing! Licorce root, marshmallow root, safe, calendula flower, cinnamon/orange/cherry bark, you get the picture. Probably the best thing about my week of congestion.

Ever the savvy shopper, I opted to pick up the "Throat Coat for Kids," at my local grocer. 18 bags opposed to the standard Throat Coat (minus kids) 16 bags, for half the price. The kicker? Throat Coat for Kids' spokes ...animal, Gigi the Giraffe. Each bag comes with a nifty "giraffe fun fact" and a mini-comic about the sore throat adventures of Gigi the Giraffe and her friend Tea-ger the Tiger, who as the story goes is actually the tea pusher and knows "all about special plants" and "goes to his garden to pick these special herbs for Organic Throat Coat tea."

"Tea-ger knows how to make the tea taste good too, so, just like you Gigi loves her Organic Throat Coat tea." Personally, I suspect Tea-ger's real name is something like Harold or Daryl. After an ill-fated music career, billed as Harold Rocket or Daryl Sixx, he spent some time in rehab, where he learned the fine art of gardening and more than likely befriended this Gigi the Giraffe character -who now has chronic throat issues due to her years spent free-basing glue (which stems from a longtime hatred towards horses).

[your cue] "Hey Jordyn, you're putting way too much thought into this ...Wrap it up!"

I'm getting the red light so I'll end this posting with a "giraffe fun fact," brought to you by Gigi, Tea-ger and the fine folks of Traditional Medicinals:



Inspired to find out more about giraffes? Check out: Random Giraffe Facts

Achoo!: How I Learned To Stop Worrying + Love The Snot Bomb

Friday, redline -southbound:

Two little girls, braids + barrettes, seated behind me -Their Mother (reading a copy of the Red Eye + chatting on her cellphone] seated across the aisle from me.

Girl #1: "I can see a playground! A School! Wow, a playground! I can see houses! What I'd give to live over here! I can see stairs ...millions of them! Wow, I can see trains move! I see people! I see leaves, different colors! Wow! ...What do you see?"
Girl #2: "I see people!"
Girl #1: "Wow, looking at people to look at! Hey, where'd you see that Dunkin' Donuts?"
Girl #2: "Ova here!"
Girl #1: "Wow! Dunkin Donuts fish sticks! ...Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks!"
[Girl #1 repeats "Dunkin Donuts fish sticks" x10, in a sing-songy pattern]
Mom: "Hush now, you're talkin' too loud! Sit down!"
Girl #1: "Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks, people! Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks, a big train! Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks, I can see the world! Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks!"
Mom: "You're too loud!"
Girl #1: "Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks, Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks, Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks, what did I say? Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks! Hear what I say? Dunkin' Donuts fish sticks!"

Even Diana Ross had to start somewhere.
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Danger Mike pointed this out to me at work:



The latter reads "Kosher for Passover," you needn't adjust your screens and/or glasses ...I just couldn't get the right focus but you get the idea.

To be honest, I'm under the influence of Dayquil + Airbourne so it sort of looked that way to me.

For Vanity's Sake + A Box Of Bla

10AM, Dominick's grocery, me w/ my wheeley-cart cutting up an aisle to the check-out lanes.

[Indian woman, black hair w/ a sploch ..Yes, sploch ...of gray smack-dab ...Yes, smack-dab ...at the crown, looking at hair dye with a confused expression and blocking my way]

Me: [nudging my cart] "Excuse me, sorry ...Excuse me? ...Sorry?"
Woman: [thumbing boxes of blonde highlights]
Me: "Hello?"
Woman: [looks over at me]
Me: "Hi" [nudging cart] "I'm sorry, excuse me"
Woman: [continues to browse the glossy boxes of hair dye]
[Mental note: I'm trying this one more time ...If she's going to dye her hair blonde, she's going to need something a lot stronger than Clairol's "champagne dream" blonde]
Me: "Hello ...Excuse me?" [nudge, nudge]
Woman: "Yes hi, you help me"
Me: "What?"
Woman: "Where bla? "
Me: "Oo ...Um, bla? Black?"
Woman: "Yes, bla. I can't find it. I want this kind of box"
Me: "Black?"
Woman: [stare]
Me: [tugging at my own hair] "Black?"
Woman: "Yes! But I want this box"
Me: "Oo, well that's not black ...Here, this right here is black, like mine."
Woman: "But I want this box."
Me: "Yes, it's the same box but it's black, you want black. Look, this one down here is on sale $6.99, it's black too"
Woman: [stare, grabs box] "Like yours?"
Me: "Yes"
Woman: "I don't know"
Me: "It's a good brand"
Woman: [stare]
Me: "It's a good box"
Woman: [walks off w/ box and finally moves cart]
Me: [looks back in her direction] " ...Bye?"

In other news, I now have a camera of my very own, thanks to my dear friend Lisa (thank you, thank you, thank you)

Jane Austen Doesn't Live Here No More: For Those of You Who Want To Start A Book Club ...

The Department of The Treasury has a few suggestions ...

[The following titles are from a mini-flyer included alongside my federal tax return]

"Order some of our best sellers!"

-Federal Benefits for Veterans and Dependents, 2007
-A Healthier You: Based On The Dietary Guidelines For Americans
-Welcome to the United States: A Guide For New Immigrants
-Occupational Outlook Handbook, 2006-2007
-United States Senate Catalogue of Graphic Art

[in fine print] "If you have any questions, do NOT contact the Treasury Dept."

Benefits, diet, immigration, occupations and ...graphic art. The Department of The Treasury has all your bases covered ...And unlike Oprah and various other book clubs, they don't want to hear your imput. No essays, no journaling, no "reader of the week".

Note: I actually did a little research on Oprah's book club and came across one of the many membership benefits ..."O's Reader of the Week" and in turn a new goal has been born. I'm half tempted to join O's book club and work hard towards becoming a "Reader of the Week," just like Sherri!

I could have my own Q&A ...I've always wanted my own Q&A and to share my "lightblub moment" with fellow O readers everywhere!

I'm making my pledge today that I will be one of Oprah's "Readers of the Week" and I will milk my Q&A for all that it is worth ...That said, I hope that next month's selection isn't the Odyssey.

Ok, let me try this again: I'm making my pledge today that I will be one of Oprah's "Readers of the Week," unless that involves the Odyssey ...In that case, I'm ordering my copy of "Welcome to the United States: A Guide For New Immigrants".

Which I just so happened to find a PDF link to and after a little browsing (Ok, skimming), I present to you my Q&A on "Welcome to the United States: A Guide For New Immigrants" for the Department of The Treasury a la Oprah's Book Club, if the Department of The Treasury indeed had a "Reader of the Week" (Still with me? Good).

Q. How did you do it?

A. First, I should point out that I believe I'm the only member of the DTT book club, that said I'm tickled to be chosen as the "Reader of the Week". Aside from a few art awards in grade school and a few medals during my brief t-ball career (which I later found out everyone recieved), I've never really won much of anything so this is a true honor and I will not take this title lightly. So how did I do it? Well, I'd like to thank my dear friend Lisa for helping me with my taxes this year. I should also mention my other dear friend, Google for finding the PDF of "Welcome to the United States ...".

Q. How did the book affect you?

A. Well, the glare of my computer screen, a few pages in, started to bother my eyes a bit but other than that I was ok. I found the first section warning me that as an immigrant there are many "dishonest" people in the world that set up fake government websites to confuse and take advantage of me. I will never again be fooled by hotasiancumsluts.gov or winalottamoney.gov. The chapter on how to use 911 was very informative and I now know to never call 911 in order to "find out if someone is in jail".

Q. Did you have a "lightbulb moment" reading the book?

A. I did and fortunately for me it was a 60 watt soft white light energy saving replacement bulb that only uses 13 watts and will last up to 7 yrs. (if I only use it 3 hrs. a day). That's 8,000 hours! I'd have to say that's a lot of moments.

Q. Would you recommend this book?

A. Of course, I'm thinking of setting up a kiosk at O'Hare, but don't worry I'll make sure no one contacts the Dept. of the Treasury.

Q. Describe this DTT pick in five words or less.

A. Insightful book about parental advisory. Oo wait, that's Sheri's answer. Umm ...Mimi haja usingizi sahihi sasa.

Q. How pretentious do you find the "The" in front of Treasury?

A. Very.

White Skirts + Dwarf TKO

First things first, a twist ...A book review, if you will.

Yesterday, on the train en route to work:

[Two girls, sitting behind me]

Girl #1: "Yeah so I read the 'Zodiac' and that book messed with my mind!"
Girl #2: "For real?"
[Inaudible banter. Something about "questioning being," not sure]
Girl #1: "That book made me feel like I was on my fuckin' rag, wearing a white skirt."

[I can only assume that she's talking about "Zodiac," by Robert Graysmith, which I read years ago ...I don't really remember the rag/white skirt feeling but then again, everyone's a critic].
_____________

Reason No. 628 why I will always adore Lexi:

Lexi: "I keep missing you!"
Me: "I keep missing you!"
Lexi: "I was this close to selling fruit at intersections!"
_____________

And now, a special report:

I'm a big fan of the taskbar/dock. While coasting along the internet super highway (Remember that term?), I'll come across newsy tidbits (articles, editorials, to-dos/how-tos, recipes) which I'll want to read but for some reason or another I opt to save for a later date. Bookmark? Psh! I just store it on my taskbar/dock and hope that my Safari doesn't close (Or most recently, Princess Milo doesn't tinker around online, looking for Liberace photos).

This morning, coffee in hand, NPR playing in the kitchen, I sat at my desk, flicked on my computer screen and noticed a handful of documents/pages awaiting me.

This American Life's homepage, a soup recipe I've been meaning to jot down (fire roasted corn -could be tasty + help me overcome my fear of corn), the latest editorial on Gaper's Block, Myspace (fancy that), a human height chapter on Wikipedia, Little People of America's homepage, an IMDb bio on John Oates and another Wikipedia chapter on "midgets".

First, the argument: John Oates, of Hall & Oates fame, while short in stature, is not legally a "midget" and/or [the more PC] "little person".

Sure the hints/clues are there, he supposedly (allegedly) needed the help of his own mini-stage during the Hall & Oates Live Aid '85 performance (I have yet to find this footage). And yes, on most if not all Hall & Oates' album covers Daryl Hall can be seen leaning into his shorter counterpart. It should be noted that Hall (please excuse the rhyme) is well rather, somewhat freakishly (But not in the Joey Ramone sort of way) tall, coming in at 6'1" (his feathered coif, popular throughout the 80s, coming in at at least 3 or 4" -At least!). Plus, there's the questionable track off of Hall & Oates' 1984 release "Big Bam Boom," entitled "Dance On Your Knees".

According to the Little People of America's (LPA) website, the term "midget," while in some circles refers to a "proportionate dwarf," is often frowned upon and in turn "dwarf" and "little person" are safer alternatives.

The average height of a dwarf and/or LP is 4' but can range between 2'8"-4'8". Dwarfism, is deemed both a medical and genetic condition (the term also includes plants and animals). The overall "legal" height for a dwarf cuts off at 4'10".

With that knowledge at hand, according to IMDb's bio on John Oates, Oates stands at a height of 5'5", well-above dwarf status though short (considering the average male height of 5'10"). That alone disputes any "That Oates from Hall & Oates is a mustachioed midget with a mullet of pubes" argument (Though the jury is still out on the "mustachioed/mullet of pubes" bit ...I'm just writing on height, today, sorry).

There's much debate on whether or not dwarfism could be considered a disability. The LPA site responds to such a debate, "Certainly many short-statured people could be considered disabled as a result of conditions, mainly orthopedic, related to their type of dwarfism. In addition, access issues and problems exist even for healthy LPs. Consider, for example, the simple fact that most achondroplastic adults cannot reach an automated teller machine. "

Wikipedia's section on dwarfism also touches on the possible problems and/or disabilities associated with dwarfism, listing "social prejudice," "reduced social, employment and marital opportunities," and overall self-esteem issues.

Through all of my LP reading, I have yet to come across anything that states any reduction on rocking hard and/or making Sara smile. Which means that while Oates may legally be a dwarf, while sitting, that by no means has any effect on the man's craft.

In conclusion, mustachioed? A mullet of pubes? A victim of a taller bandmate? Possibly. John Oates, a "midget," dwarf and/or LP? I can't go for that, no can do and neither should you.

Gonna Look In Every Corner of the City: Part I

I'm being stalked.

"You're what?"
"Who?"
"When?"

Well, I'll tell you ...I am being stalked by five men: John, Zal, Steve, Joe + Jerry ...You might know them as the Lovin' Spoonful (that's the original line-up at least. "Wait Jordyn, you know the Lovin' Spoonful's original line-up?" Yes)

It all started this morning, when I woke up with the Zombies "Tell Her No,' stuck in my head ..."But Jordyn, you cannot compare the Zombies to the Lovin' Spoonful!" I know, I know, please let me continue.

So there I was, singing "Tell her no, no, no/No, no, no, no," as I sat at my computer, checking my email and various newsy websites. I couldn't decide what to listen to ...Inspired by the Zombies (and already exhausting my Zombies' collection), I clicked to an oldies station, on my iTunes.

The Chi-lites (love 'em), the Turtles (even better), Bachman-Turner Overdive (that's ok), Buffalo Springfield (why not?), the Lovin Spoonful (Aww, the Lovin' Spoonful ..."Summer In the City," I can deal with this).

[30 minutes later]

Jim Croce (don't mess with Jim), Bread (eh, it's ...Bread), Aretha Franklin (R E S P E C T, I will) and the Lovin Spoonful (Ah ok, it's still "Summer In the City," didn't they just play this?).

[1 hr. later, returning from the grocery store, left the station on]

Steppenwolf (Oo just missed the magic carpet ride), Diana Ross (the only song I can stand that uses the slang "ain't" -Sing it Diana!) and the Lovin Spoonful (Again? Ok, I get it, it's "Summer In the City" and you're a "cool cat" looking for a "kitty").

[40 minutes later, cleaning my kitchen, putting things away]

Jackson 5 (they're never going to say goodbye, girl), Steam (na-na-he-hey-goodbye!) and the Lovin' Spoonful (Oo my! What!? C'mon now!)

[phone rings]
Telemarketer: "Hi, is Ms. Phelps, there?"
Me: "Yes" ["Back of my neck getting dirty + gritty"]
Telemarketer: [pause] "Hi, Ms. Phelps?"
Me: "Yes, speaking" ["Walking on the sidewalk/hotter than a match head]
Telemarketer: "Hi, Ms. Phelps, I'm calling in regards to the Lake County Police Dept. Fund-Drive -yadda yadda yadda"
[Mental Note: I don't even live in Lake County + by this time it's safe to assume that I am, indeed, Ms. Phelps]
Me: "I'm sorry, I'm not interested ..." ["Running up the stairs/Gonna meet you on the rooftop"]
Telemarketer: "Oo ok ...Wait, is that 'Summer In the City'?"
Me: "Yes it is!"
Telemarketer: "It's not summer today! [nervous laughter]"
[FYI: It was snowing outside]
Me: "[fake laughter] That's Chicago for you! Well, have a nice day."
Telemarketer: "Thanks"

[1 hr. or so later, sorting through mail, making coffee]

Beach Boys (wouldn't be an oldies station without them + Ba-Ba-Barbara Ann), Santana (where's my incense?), the Zombies (Hooray!) and the Lovin' Spoonful (...)

Remember the film (yes, film) Groundhog's Day? Bill Murray's character woke up every morning to Sonny + Cher's "I Got You Babe" (then again, don't we all?) ...By this time, the Lovin' Spoonful and I have stepped into the Groundhog's Day-zone ...You might also recall the scene where Murray grabs his toaster and attempts to bathe with it ...Hmm.

"Come on, come on and dance all night/Despite the heat, it'll be alright"

[phone rings]
Nick: "Hey"
[Paul McCartney + Wings "Band On the Run"]
Me: "Uno momento, Paul McCartney, be quiet!"
Nick: "Aww, Wings? Are they on the run?"
Me: "Perhaps ...Hey, I'm being stalked"
Nick: "What?"
Me: "I've been listening to an oldies station all day and the Lovin Spoonful's 'Summer In the City,' has been playing every hour, on the hour! I'm being stalked by the Lovin' Spoonful!"
[this is when both Nick and I started singing "Summer In the City, back and forth]
Nick: [mumble, mumble] "Hotter than a match head"
Me: "Cool cat, lookin' for a kitty"
[more of our duet]
Nick: [mumble, mumble]
Me: "We gave it a good go! Karaoke bars look out! The Nick + Jordyn Explosion is coming!"

[10 minutes ago, as I type this]

Doobie Brothers (!!!), Elvis (he's caught in a trap, can't get out), Jackson 5 (Primo! Leave Princess Milo alone!) and (Yep, you guessed it) ...the Lovin' Spoonful "Summer In the City"

"And babe, don't you know it's a pity/The days can't be like the nights/In the summer/In the city"

In the summer, in the city ...Where is my toaster?

Double-Quilted Coffee + Memoirs Of A Faux-Geisha

Shortly after work, this morning, I set out to run some errands and various to-dos.

To say I "caught" the #36 Broadway bus would be an understatement ...In truth, I stood @ the bus stop for 25 mins, blinking excessively (I woke up @ 5AM, it was 1PM) and reassuring an elderly man that "Yes, the bus is coming," "Yep, this is where you stand," and "Oo of course, the bus is coming, sir".

When said bus finally arrived, I settled into this week's Reader and awaited my turn to tug the cord.

I set about my errands, my hair pulled up in my typical post-work 'do. I think my friend/coworker Russell summed it up best, shortly after meeting me, "I was working on a project, the other day, and I thought of you because your hair up like that is very geisha and I was painting a geisha like figure." Hair clip + shiny black headband = my medicating cats/outta my face/"geisha" statement.

Any make-up I managed to slap on around 5AM was by then an afterthought and the grey skies were more than likely making me look paler than I already am.

After I finished said errands, I opted to treat myself to an Intelligentsia coffee (where you can say "large" and "just black" without any furrowed brow of confusion -What a relief!) ...I headed up Broadway. As I stood at a stoplight, a rather daper looking man crossed the street ...I'm guessing he was in his early/mid 50s, dressed in his finest "casual Friday" businessman attire (meaning he was without a tie).

Daper Man: "I love your hair"
Me: "Oo, thank you"
Daper Man: "Is that your natural color? It is, right? It looks perfect"
Me: "Oo, why thank you and no, it's not my natural color"
Daper Man: "You're a gorgeous young lady ...You have a very 1940s look to you. A truly beautiful look. Do you like the 1940s?"
[Mental Thought: Do I like the 1940s? Hmm, sure, why not?]
Me: "Oo, well thank you ...Yeah, the 1940s ...Actually, I've heard that before"
Daper Man: "Well, it's a beautiful look! Your beauty is 1940s reincarnated."
Me: "Thank you ...Have a great day"
[Mental Thought: Look? Sir, can I explain to you the joys of running cat fecals at 8AM?]
Daper Man: "You have such a 1940s spirit. Have a beautiful -wonderful day, young lady!"

My cup of coffee was delicious and helped me brave the packed bus ride home. Seated nearby, a group of school children ...Where one girl (the leader of the pack) was trying to convince her pals that she (indeed, for honest) lived @ the IHOP, up the street.

Girl: "I eat pancakes everyday!"
Boy: "Even for dinner?"
Girl: "Yeah-huh!"
Boy: "Yeah right"
Girl: "I do so!"

____________


And now for a few honorable mentions:

Lexi: "Do you think the Reality Bites toilet paper in the coffee maker trick would work? I don't have any coffee filters"
Lexi: "By jove, I think it worked! Thank you, Winona Ryder"


Alexander: "I'm at a place called Big Wangs. Where did it all go wrong?"

Me: "Does Airbourne really work?"
Josh: "Alan Alda says 'If you think so it probably does'."
Me: "I can't get sick"
Josh: "I bet you can!"

Me: [telling Dave about my Airbourne purchase] "And guesswhat flavor I chose?"
Dave: "Red? Red is my favorite flavor!"

[I answer the front door, at work]
Me: "Hello?"
Woman w/ cat: "Hi! I called about an admit ...I'm Jacquelyn Smith"
[Mental Thought: No you're not!]

Reason No. 465, why I will always love a certain Mr. Nick Pyle: To Suck An Egg

On March 20th, my friend Neil + his roommates started their annual "electricity fast" going on through April 20th. For more info, feel free to check-out: Allium Collective

Me: "Are you growing a beard?"
Neil: "Well kind of, yeah ...My razor is electric."
____________

Dave is working on a project that involves a couple of questions on sound ...One question, in particular, that caught my attention was/is:

What is your best/favorite (along those lines) sound memory?

My answer? Cars (No, not Ric Ocasek) ...More specific my parents' cars.

My Father worked 5+ days a week. He'd get up around 4AM and be out the door by 5AM ...In the wintertime I'd wake to hear the hum of the engine, warming up and pulling out of the drive. I've always prefered weekdays to weekends ...Hearing my Father leave for work symbolized in my sound memory the normalcy of the work week, that above all else I always loved my welder-Father's hard work ethic and that I had two more hours before my alarm would sound for school. During my parents' inevitable divorce, the sound of my Father's vehicle would take on a different tone as he would come home. "He's home ..."

The other car sound being my Mother's car, pulling into the drive. Not necessarily an obvious and/or unusual sound but distinctive in the way that "Mom's home!" When she worked Midnights @ the hospital, I'd be up early, awaiting her sound up the drive. She's home! She's home! She's home! Hooray!

Good Morning, Billy: No Bugs Here

My morning started off, as usual ...Slippers on, boiling water for coffee, NPR on the radio, feeding my cats, giving Primo his insulin, checking email, browsing today's newsy tidbits, hair pulled back in a messy nest on top of my head.

Halfway through my first cup of coffee, there was a knock on the door ...Oo no, Oo no, I forgot! My building had passed out a memo noting that on Tuesday, my Billy Preston lookalike exterminator (w/ a gold tooth that I just now noticed) would be going from apartment to apartment, as a precautionary measure. I work this afternoon and Lisa and I are meeting up for a pre-work lunch. Since there was no clear/cut time, I had been meaning to flag down my building manager and explain that I'm not completely sold with anyone coming into my place and neither are my three cats.

[knock on the door -"Tap tap"]
[Mental note: CRAP! CARDIGAN!]
Me: "Just a moment, please!"
[knock knock]
Me: "I'll be right there!"
[Mental note: C'mon arm, go through sleeve! Button, button!]
[Peek through peephole ...It's Billy Preston! Answer the door]
Billy Preston: "Well g'morning lil lady!"
Me: "Why hello, good morning"
Billy Preston [non-subtle look up and down] "Why aren't you a sight!"
[nervous laughter, trying to hide behind the door]
Billy Preston: "I was wonderin' when I'd get to your apartment and now my morning is made!"
[more nervous laughter ...What could I say? You're welcome? Glad I could make your day? Look, it's me and my nightgown? C'mon in and watch me brush my teeth?]
[Mental note: Billy Preston has seen me in my nightgown!]
Me: "I got the memo saying you'd be going through the building, today."
[Mental note: Billy preston has seen me in my nightgown!]
Billy Preston: [stick head through doorway w/ a spray container, eyes my cats] "Ooo, you got kitties!"
Me: "Yes, three of them ...And I wasn't sure if any spraying would be neccesary, for their safety"
Billy Preston: "Well, you don't got bugs, right?"
Me: "Nope! No bugs!"
Billy Preston: "That's ok, I skip the spray. You know, lil lady, anytime you need me or if you ever have a problem w/ bugs, I'm your guy! You just put a work order in and I'll be up here [knocks on my door]."
Me: "Aw, well thank you."
Billy Preston: "It sure was nice to see ya and you lookin' GOOD in the mornin'! You have yourself a beautiful day!"
Me: "You too, have a great day and thanks again!"
[Shut door ...Run to my bathroom's mirror to double check just what exactly he may have seen ...Ok, safe, I don't think he saw anything. I'm a lady!]

CRAP! Billy Preston saw me in my nightgown. Good morning to me.

From now on, I'm sleeping in a snowsuit.

UPDATE: Amber Alert: Who Are You?

Originally posted at 10:42AM,
Monday, March 26, 2007

My State ID card ran away, last week ...I can't say I blame it. I refused to get it a wallet, I often shoved it in my pocket or left it alone on my bookshelf. I'm positive I've dropped it numerous times and I'm sure its been shoved between the musty pages of a book or two. I even called around, retracing my steps, checking with a few buisnesses around town and being referred to as "ma'am," as in "Nope, sorry ma'am," "Let me check for you, ma'am [5 minutes later] Ma'am? No, I'm sorry ...ma'am," and "Just a second, ma'am, I can't hear you, could you speak up, ma'am?"...Nothing.

Short of issuing a full-on "Amber Alert," I opted to break my apartment up into sections for an in-depth search. I will never give up hope for you, State ID but it's dawned on me that you are gone and that I will have to schlep my way to the Secretary of State to (begrudgingly) get a new one.

[Yes, State ID. Those who know me know that I don't have a driver's license and actually I've never had one. "Why?" a question I generally answer with a shrug and "I just never really wanted one". Which I'm sure fuels assumptions that I'm in "recovery" ...No driver's license, I order coffee @ bars ...Great]

However, true to form, when looking for something, you'll always find things that you weren't looking for:

-Receipts, receipts, receipts ("Ah, on 2/12/07 I saved $16.37 @ Dominick's ...The kicker is that I only spent $20+ ...It's a keeper!")
-Six water bottle caps ("No Princess Milo, I can't pick you up right now ...Here, have a bottle cap. Fun! Woo!")
-Pennies upon pennies
-Pens upon pens ("Where is my fine-tipped black Sharpie? ...Ah ha! Yes, it's underneath the bookcase, behind the printer, next to Primo's long neglected wooden spoon!" To which I will use said Sharpie and put back underneath the bookcase, behind the printer, next to the wooden spoon ...Hey, I know where it is).
-"So that's where those X-Files trading cards that Tom sent me so long ago are!"
-Paycheck + bill-paid stubs (C'mon audit, I'm ready for you!)
-A stack of unread or rifled through Newcity, Chicago Readers, Red Eyes and a copy of Hoy! I once used for an impromptu umbrella.
-"Oo, my Metamucil sampler from a few months ago ...I wonder if that fiber cracker is still good? Hmm"
-A "Are You A Good Person?" pamphlet from downtown ...I have yet to take their "ultimate' test.
-Dunkin' Donuts "Sip, Scratch + Score!" card for a free donut (The question: Famed racing horse Man O' War won how many races out of his 21 starts? I scratched D 20, "You Win!")
-Glitter balls which have yet to make their way underneath the refrigerator (Save yourselves!).
-A post-it that reads: "Coffee? Carrot juice? 'Everything That Rises: A Book On Convergences' Weschler?"
-A pamphlet that Danger Mike recently gave me: "How To Describe A Suspect From The Unknown ...To The Known," thank you Danger.
-What was that? Where's my classical section? Under my sofa ...At least that's where I found my Mozart's Symphonies no. 40+41 disc.
-Directions + ETA, terminal 5 @ O'Hare (when I spent Lexi + Gabe's lay-over from their honeymoon in Spain @ a classy airport bar).
-A stack of cards from my Mother, ranging from "I hear it's bitter cold there, Mandy. Be safe and bundle up" to "Sure wish I could see your beautiful face and lovely smile. I will in the spring. Be safe and use your umbrella".
-"Electricity Free Game Night, Sunday @ 6PM," from Neil (more on that later)
-A couple more post-its that read: "SHOES! APPLES!" and "HAND CLAPS!"
-Oo crap! A notice from my building stating that my Billy Preston Exterminator will be going through the building and may enter my apartment, on Tuesday. I need to talk w/ management about this ...I love you Billy, it's not you, it's me (and my three cats).

And no, no state ID ...Hmph.

I mentioned my recent loss to Danger Mike + Gloria, at work on Monday.

Gloria: "$20 for a new one!? I know who I am, I don't need their card!"
Me: "Well, it'd only be $10 if I was renewing my ID but since I lost it ...$20"
Gloria: "You know, when I got a new one, they still used my photo from 10 yrs. ago! For all they know, I could change my look, I could be trying fool 'em. I could be a terrorist!"
Me: "Do you have something you'd like to tell me, Gloria?"

UPDATE!

After a sweaty day @ work, w/ the thoughts of my Tuesday morning being gobbled up by a Secretary of State visit, Lisa and I debated whether or not to make a pit stop at Dominick's, on the way home. Just as Glenlake came into sight, we opted to make the turn and go to Dominick's.

There we were in the produce section, Lisa w/ her lemon and I w/ my apples (yes, red delicious), when the woman who usually works the service desk walked towards me.

Service Desk Woman: "Hi ...You know, you left your ID at the service desk, last week"
Me: [blink!] "What!? ...Are you serious? Do you realize that I was going to go to the Secretary of State tomorrow morning ...Can I hug you!?"
Service Desk Woman: "Sure!"
[hug]
Me: "Thank you! Thank you! Oo my goodness!"
Service Desk Woman: "You can swing by the service desk and pick it up"
[insert in-store freak out dance ...!!]
Lisa: "Do you want to go to the service desk now!?"
Me: "YES!"

And there it was ...My state ID.

Me [to my state ID]: "I'm going to get a wallet for you."

Excuse me while I twirl myself silly.

The Secret to Good Good Vibrations: Random Motes In 5 Parts

It's a fact: The radio in ISO 2 (at work) is well, crap. After spending 30 seconds too long trying to find a decent station, I finally came across a fuzzy oldies station. Joe, a caretaker was busy cleaning and I started my round of treatments -A dance of some sort, lacking in any form of coordination, since it's cramped quarters downstairs. A lot of "excuse me," "sorry," "whoops!" and "just one quick moment ...sorry" ...A spasmodic version of the Beach Boys' "Good Vibrations," came on.

Joe: "This the Beach Boys?"
Me: "Yep -Wouldn't be an 'oldies' station without at least 3 Beach Boys tunes, per hour."
Joe: "You know what band is better than the Beach Boys ...Man, umm ...Oo yeah! They're better than the Beach Boys -Huey Lewis & the News."
Me: "Oo yeah, they're ...fun."
___________

I came home to a message from Alexander:
"You are indier than I. You're even vegan! I could never compare. I give in to sin too often. I'm not even drunk!"
___________

Yesterday evening, Lisa came over for Thai food + taxes. As I waited for her downstairs, idling chatting w/ Xavier (front desk guy).

Xavier: "You don't eat any meat!?"
Me: "No"
Xavier: "So like fruits and vegetables?"
Me: Yep"
Xavier: "So lots of potatoes?"
Me: "Only as a precautionary measure and in case of a famine."

Enter Crystal, a "celebrity" (self-professed, mind you) neighbor. Crystal is a gay clown. He can often be seen wearing Mardi Gras beads of every color/size (Mr. T-style), Liberace sunglasses complete w/ red lenses, a half shirt (complete w/ potbelly poking through), rings on every finger and bodybuilder pants (you know, the ones w/ the gathered waist/cuffs + loud prints). On this (festive) occasion, Crystal was wearing a pointy green wizard's cap w/ fake elf ears attached and a neck-flap (which still kind of confuses me) and he had a few bags in hand.

Crystal: "I just got back from the most amazing crystal sale. This darling guy is selling an estate of crystals and gemstones and I just had to go! Oo my God, honey, lemme tell you, I could have moved in w/ this man for all of his wares. I just have to show you!"
[Crystal opens a bag and sets a few crystals of various colors/forms/detail onto the front desk]
Crystal: "I'm hanging this one up in my window -Oo it'll be fabulous, the light coming through. I'll wear this one, can you imagine? It's a crystal and my name is Crystal. I'm a celebrity." [Crystal holds up this wine-colored ...plastic ...crystal the size of a fist, to his chest, minus a gold chain]
Crystal: "Isn't Mother Nature ...awesome!? She made these for me. this man had @ least a half million dollars worth. Are you two ready for THE pride of all of my purchases!?"
[Crystal unwraps a thumb sized, iridescent piece of quartz]
Crystal: "Isn't this just fabulous!? Touch it! [hands it to Xavier] Hold it! C'mon, hold it!"
[Xavier takes the piece of quartz]
Crystal: "Isn't it just magical?"
Xavier: "Is this metal?"
Crystal: "Metal!? No, honey, Mother Earth made this! It's quartz ...It's perfect! No man could make something so magnificent. All the colors, the shine, the jagged edges. It's my prized piece."
Xavier: "Is it glued together?"
[Lisa, where are you?]

I'll spare you the rest but a few keynotes: Crystal has died twice, has had 3 open heart surgeries and is convinced that the latest self-help book "The Secret," is actually writen about him, for him. He fully intends on using the powers of "The Secret" and his gemstones to help him through an upcoming court battle w/ the state guardian (or something to that affect). I should also mention that Crystal is 20 yrs. sober.

And somehow I'm unfazed. Somehow retelling this event seems as ordinary as explaining the contents of my fridge (water, carrot juice, carrots, parsley, soymilk, vitamins and various condiments -no of which start w/ a "k" and/or a "mayo").

[Scott: Tell me a story.
Me: I met a gay clown named Crystal, today that has died twice and came back.
Scott: Whatttt? Are you lying?
Me: Nope, it's a true story -C'mon, even I couldn't make that shit up.
Scott: Y did u just curse....you neverrrrrrrrrrrrr curse!]
__________

Alexander called later on as he drove back from a LA video store, to share his inner St. Patrick's Day kvetch.

Alexander: "I fucking HATE Irish folk music! I hate it! Like, Nickelcreek, the brother/sister duo? They're good but I fucking hate it!"

Oo Alexander.
__________

I was explaining to Dave how I consider Dunkin' Donuts coffee beans as my "filler" beans. To extend the life of my "good" beans, I'll add a few Dunkin' Donuts beans, to which he summed up:

Dave: "So it's like the Hamburger Helper of coffee beans."

Oo Dave.
_________

Review:

-Huey Lewis + the News are better than the Beach Boys and "fun"!
-There's a "celebrity" gay clown named Crystal, living in my building who ironically enough collects crystals -Crystal has the power, he knows the secret.
-I did my taxes. (Though, I'm bitter that I can't claim Primo ...He's both an unique expense and a disabled "child")
-Alexander will forever hate Irish folk music so you can keep your copy of Brobdingnagian Bards.
-Dave's quick wit never sleeps and I now will forever associate Hamburger Helper w/ Dunkin' Donuts coffee.
-I not only never curse -I "neverrrrrrrrrrrrrr" curse
-Nick needs a hug: But don't squeeze too tight

Bobbing, Dodging + Weaving For Apples

Deja vu at the grocery store, this afternoon ...Only instead of peddlin' pineapples (like the last time -Oo "exotic" pineapple), the take-a-taste of the week: apples. Shiny, red, crisp, "triple-washed" ...ordinary apples. My wheely-cart and I walked right into their produce trap ...I could tell from the twinkle in this dedicated Dominick employee's eye (she had two), she was not only looking to give away free samples of this symbol of forbidden folklore ...She believed in the whole Malus domestica family.

[Note: My ipod is sick. It has a hardware cold and I've scheduled a check-up. In turn, I've been sans my little box of joy. My little white headphones that tell others "I see your lips moving but I didn't know you could sing."]

[Apple Lady spots me ...Do not make eye contact, do not make eye contact. I see the samples. Turn away, turn away ...Oo no! Our eyes meet! She's smiling. Her plastic gloves are reaching ...reaching for a sample ...Where's the parsley!? Must find parsley.]

Apple Peddler: "Hi there!"
[CRAP]
Apple Peddler: "I have some wonderful apple samplers for you!"
[For me? Just me? Really? All of this ...for me? Well ...]
Apple Peddler: "Here!"
Me: "Oo no, thank you"
Apple Peddler: "10lbs. for $10! I've been sneaking bites all day [fake embarrassed laughter]. I don't usually like apples but THESE apples are ...DELICIOUS. Like their name! [laughter]"
Me: [pressed smile] "No, no -Thank you, though ...I just ate."
[c'mon wheely-cart -PIVOT!]
Apple Peddler: "Oo yeah? What did you have?"
Me: "What? Uh, soup. Yep."
Apple Peddler: "That's not a meal! Here!" [thrusts 2 browning apple slices my way]
Me: "Have a nice evening"
Apple Peddler: "Aww ...Well ..."
Old Man [in a Bears play-off hat] "Whaddya got here?"
Apple Peddler: "Hi there! These are RED DELICIOUS apples"

Phew ...Wait, apples were on my list. I double-check my little orange notepad ...Yep: litter, fancy feast, oatmeal, toilet paper, parsley and RED DELICIOUS ...Hmm. Fine. I'll do it.

Apple Peddler: [eyes me, smiles] "See! I knew you wanted some!"

Wait, is that girl tired? No. Well maybe she's cold? No, that's not it. Wait, I know that look, that girl wants apples!

Cut to my return home ...I push my cart up to the front doors, spin around, kick my foot out at a ninety-degree angle to prop open the door, pull my cart in backwards, spin around.

John [building operations manager/opening the second set of doors for me]: "What's this crazy dance move you're doing?"
Me: "Oo, ha ...Just something I've been working on. Thanks."
John: "Oo, looks like you got some num-nums for the kitties"
[...Num-nums?]
Me: "Ah, yeah ...Actually, it's litter. It'll make them like me for about 10 minutes."
John: "And how are the kitties?"
[He asked me this yesterday and now that I think about it -He asks me this every time he sees me]
Me: "Oo, they're fine. Thanks. Have a good evening"
[to the elevator!]

And to think, I was actually going to "blog" a detailed list of "when I grow up" notions and the growing trend amongst my peers who are jumping ship to follow more fulfilling/self-affirming career paths. How do ya like them apples?

Punxsutawney Phyllis: Will we have winter or will we have spr- Wait, is that a skirt or a belt?

For those of you who do not subscribe to the Punxsutawney Club newsletter, the events of Febuary 2nd may remain a matter of great befuddlement (If by some chance you are a subscriber of said newsletter, feel free to skip to the next paragraph). For those still with me: Punxsutawney Phil was caught sans shadow -Predicting an early spring.

Ah spring, when winter's ugly is deemed "fresh" and my dear friend Lexi starts plotting out her garden (to which I writhe in jealousy over as I stare out of 7th story high-rise apartment windows, playing "find a patch of grass" -She's going to plant chiles! She might have tomatoes!).

Today I bared witness to my own Punxsutawney Phil of some sort ...Ok, so my Phil is a Phyllis. She's also a retired "lady of the night," strongly resembles the love child of Divine and Richard Simmons, walks like a zombie and randomly giggles to herself while riding up the elevator (as though she's suddenly filled with some long lost childhood innocence -"Weee!").

Spring is in the air when "Phyllis" starts dressing in her short minis (Skirt? Belt? No no that has to be a skirt ...Or wait ...Hmm, I think I see a tag), her pre-shrunk (and then shrunk again) tops, Mr. T sunglasses and sandals (that are long past their milage). I'll spot her in the mailroom or we'll cross paths (with her back and forth fishermen sway) in the lobby. Our conversations are generally brief ..."Arf," I take as a "hello" and "egh," as a "lovely day isn't it?" ...There are times our conversations are based solely in the buzzing of the elevator and then true to form, as though just waking up, she'll stare @ me, look me up and down and in a jazzy tone mutter (with questioning undertones) "Heyyy ...I haven't seeen you in a while, egh?" The only real meaty tidbits have included: 1. "I almost went into porn" and 2. "Heeyy, my boyfriend is a Jew. They're good." ...Oo Punxsutawney "Phyllis".

There I was, this morning, steaming cup of coffee in hand (messy hair to boot), heading towards my building's enterance ...And there she was, standing in a full slouch, outside. A smear of white denim (a skirt, I'm almost postive), a cobalt blue crushed velvet cropped top complete with exposed sports bra (in the ever so popular amongst women of the wintering age, "nude" hue), Mr. T sunglasses, gold flip flops only visable by the thong between her toes. Amongst her white-girl fro, Day-glo yellow headphones the size of earmuffs (My dime is on Lisa Lisa or Blondie) and a long/slim cigarette pressed between her lips. I lowered my coffee cup, gave my best polite/pressed smile (truth be told, I was passing smiles out left + right, all morning) ...I smelled the menthol, new soil, a lake-filled breeze, Old Spice (perhaps from her "Jew boyfriend") and wet cement.

Punxsutawney Phyllis: "Egh"
Me: "G'morning"

Punxsutawney Phyllis then moved to the side, out of the sun, for me to pass and just like that her shadow disappeared.

Spring! Ah, spring! You're here! Hooray!

And now for a few random tidbits:

-I think my life is lacking a good game of Balderdash.
-Alexander is not an Aphgani (And his middle name is NOT Sayid).
-Today (Wednesday proper) was both National Potato Chip Day + National Pi Day ...I forgot to celebrate either, sigh.
-Josh was beat up by a mic stand, Tuesday night and yes, he knows he is in need of a frozen bag of peas.
-I still can't get over Lexi's gardening prospects ...Oo wait, I think I see a patch of grass.

Elevators Never Go Fast Enough, Even For Angels

Welcome! Our special tonight is a hearty dose of creepiness served awkwardly fresh and w/ a sprig of mint.

I returned to my building, after a brief errand, this evening to a post-it note on the front lobby's door: "Went to use the restroom, be back in 5 mins." -I no sooner read "mins" (Afterall, abbreviations are quick) when Xavier (newbie-front desk guy) came running to the front door, from a back office.

Xavier: [opens door] "I was watching you on the camera, crossing the street!"
Me: "Oh ...well, thanks for getting the door"
Xavier: "No problem ...I like watching you. I'd like to watch you sleep"
Me: [hits the elevator "up" button so hard that if I had long fingernails, I'm sure they would have chipped] "Ah ...ok ...Have a goodnight!"
Xavier: "Oo, you too, you too!"

Mental thought: "Deadbolt, deadbolt, deadbolt"

So this is my appeal to Xavier: Please, please keep falling asleep behind the front desk ...Please, please keep leaving post-it notes and neglecting your work duties. Keep it up ...Please?

Last Weds., my day off, I had a to-do list of sundry -Including a pit-stop @ work. I step off of the Argyle stop and as I walk out of the station doors, I naturally hold the door open for the fella behind me (Fellas, elderly Asian women, chatty cellphone fashionistas -My door-opening moral-compass shows no discretion!). I should note that this fella strongly resembled my Billy Preston lookalike exterminator, if he had a son.

Billy Preston Jr.: "Thank you miss! Not many people do that nowadays!"
Me: 'Why do you think I do it?"
Billy Preston Jr.: [beats chest Kong-style] YOU HAVE INSPIRED ME! YOU HAVE REJUVENATED ME! YOU ARE ...AN ANGEL!
Me: "Have a good day, sir!"
Billy Preston Jr.: "YOU TOO! YOU TOO!"

I no sooner take a half step, from my run-in w/ Billy Preston, Jr.-KONG STYLE, when I'm met w/ another man, who stood as though he was fighting gravity.

Anti-Gravity Man: "Hey maammaaa, you got 50 cents? I gotta get on the train."
Me: "No, sorry"

[10 minutes later, on my way back to the train, I pass the same man]

Anti-Gravity Man: "Hey maammaaa, you got 75 cents? I gotta get on the train."
Me: "Rates going up that quickly, hmm?"
Anti-Gravity Man: "Damn CTA!"

Oo Chicago, Oo my neighborhood.

In other news: Walgreen's was kind enough to send me an email of their latest flyer. Quaker Oatmeal $1.99 w/ coupon -I'm there!

The Academy and I Have Our Facts + We're Voting: Other

Ok, first the truth: I haven't seen any of the films that were nominated for this past Sunday's Oscars. Some kind of unwritten/small print sin for anyone who knows what a F stop is. However, my brother, Matthew is not only a regular @ his local theater but he's also been known to go not once, not twice -up to four times, to see one movie (believe it or not, there is no math involved in this entry). In turn, he keeps me on the up and up w/ what's good, what's bad. Please allow me to share a few of his reviews:

The Departed: "AMAZING! BEST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN!"
Children of Men: "AMAZING! BEST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN!"
Little Miss Sunshine: "AMAZING! BEST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN!"
The Departed: "I JUST WENT AND SAW IT AGAIN! AMAZING! BEST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN!"
Borat: "AMAZING! BEST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN!"
Babel: "AMAZING! BEST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN!"
Devil Wears Prada: "Who would go and see that!? I just saw the Departed again! AMAZING! BEST MOVIE EVER!"

(I should note that Matthew also saw "Good Burger," in theater ...I'm just saying he's a well-rounded fella)

So, it's safe to say, I know a thing or two about this year's nominees. With that knowledge, I found myself watching the 2007 Oscar Awards and thought I'd share a few thoughts/comments/observations/what I caught while glancing up from a book I was reading (in no particular order):

-I was glad to see Ellen hosting. I've been an Ellen fan for years. Honestly, I could have just sat and watched her stand up for 3 hrs. Plus, I'm a big fan of anyone with a tambourine and a velvet suit.
-Jack Nicholson's shaved head vs. Britney Spears 'do: I called it early, the comparisons/jabs will be all over the E! Channel's Oscar wrap up (And I was right).
-Rumor has it that Eddie Murphy left shortly after losing to Alan Arkin for best male supporting actor ...What a sore loser. Or was he leaving to attend the premiere of "Norbit"? Hmm.
-Ryan Secreast. How much longer will he deny the gay rumors by overcompensating in heterosexual male rhetoric? "She's HOT! I mean HOT! Man, I'd like some of that! HOT!" ...It's hard to pull off when you're asking "Who are you wearing?"
-Why isn't anyone covering the best dressed for the evening: Diane Keaton. She was the only one that I thought "Wow!" when I saw her walking out w/ Jack, to present best picture.
-Am I the only one that noticed a certain someone who was missing from this year's memorial reel? I'm speaking of course about Anna Nicole Smith. Um, Naked Gun 33 1/3? How quickly the Academy forgets that slice of cinematic gold ...And yet, they'll honor Robert Altman? I think Leslie Nielsen, Prince Frederick Von Anhalt and I stand amongst many when we ask: "What gives!?"
-And ok, her name escapes me but she was honored as the former president of Paramount Pictures (and accepted her award w/ a lovely TelePrompTer-penned speech) ...During her whole "achievement" montage they made mention of her Mother's passing, from cancer. I'm not pointing fun there but I doubt I was alone in stiffling the laughter when they mentioned the charitable foundation she started in her Mother's honor: "STOP CANCER" ...C'mon. I have a hunch that fitness guru Susan Powter was behind that one.
-"Best Director goes to ...Martin Scorcese ...BUT for Raging Bull ...Sorry for the delay"
-I have nothing to say about the shadow dancers ...Nothing ...Oo crap!
-Congrats to former VP Al Gore and his documentary "An Inconvenient Truth". Yeah ok, I haven't seen it yet but you know I'm vegan, in my 20s, voted within the past century and have all the intentions to recycle so I love it! Good job. STOP GLOBAL WARMING. Also, thank you for keeping your speech brief and not making out w/ Tipper, as a friend pointed out earlier.

And on the note of voting and saving energy (not Tipper and breath mints): I, myself, will be voting later on today. More out of civic duty than the belief that Major Richard M. Daley will ever leave office (his recorded message called the other day -I thought that was thoughtful).

My days of voting just to wear an "I Voted" sticker are of yesteryear now that they've stopped w/ the stickers and started w/ the rather unstickable/impersonal voting receipts. Plus, my apartment building is the central voting station for my neighborhood and since I have to go to work and check my mail anyways ...

Wet Toes: All Before A Cup of Coffee

Note: I hate the word "jug"

Forgive me, it's been months since I last changed my kitchen faucet's water filter. In fact, I've further it's neglect by regularly purchasing 2.5 gallon jugs of water, @ my local grocery store.

After work, Thursday evening, I had a few errands to run before calling it a night and attempting to go to sleep @ a regular hour, in order to wake up @ 5AM and get ready for my AM Friday shift. My errands included a trip to the grocery store w/ water on my list. I purchased two and made it home -Putting one in my fridge and the other on the top shelf of my linen closet.

My alarm was set for 4:58AM (Why 4:58? I haven't a clue. My alarm and I have a love/hate relationship and I didn't want to mess with it for fear I'd be late for work). Fortunately, I have a back-up alarm system in the form of a 15 lbs., black + white Primo -Powered by Pavlov's Theory ("Beep beep" = FOOD).

4:58AM: Beep, beep ...beep, beep. I shut the alarm off, still asleep. A couple of minutes later, Primo springs into action -Pawing, whining, batting @ my head. Though, this morning, there was a greater sense of urgency in Primo's high pitch wails. Milo soon joined in w/ his very distinct, nose-crinkled squeal. Where's the fire!? Did Timmy fall down the well!?

Blurry-eyed and barefoot, I stumbled (gracefully, I'm sure) out of bed and into the living room (also known as "the rest of my apartment"). There, I was met with Lola running in circles, w/ her duck-like squawk. Except this time none of them were bee-lining it towards the kitchen ...No, this time they were running towards the linen closet, stopping aburptly -And that's when I saw it. That's when I woke up.

Cracked open, laying on it's side and (now) empty -The water jug -It's contents completely drained and soaking through my carpet -All 2.5 gallons. By this time I had managed to open one eye, the other still blurry. I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water (I think my first reaction was "Crap! ...I'm thirsty").

510AM: There I was in my nightgown, feet wet, in a pool of soggy carpet, grabbing @ towels -a sad attempt to sop up this mess ...And all the while, forcing myself to laugh.

Me: "CRAP!" [forced laughter]
Milo: "Waaaaaaaa!!"
Me: "I know!"
Primo: "Meoooooow!!"
Me: [forced laughter] "I know!"
Milo: "Waaaaaaaa -aaaaaa -aaaaa!!"
Me: [forced laughter] "I'm trying to clean it up! I'm not awake!"
Lola: "Squawk! Squawk!"
Me: "Exactly!"

After all towels were in place ...I tip-toed my way to the bathroom. Once in the shower, I was comforted with a newfound appreciation for the way the water neatly ran towards a rust-colored drain.

"Wait, I need a towel! CRAP! [forced laughter]".

To Catch A Predator: As Seen On TV

Ooo, look the Pasta Express: "Cooks up to 1 lb. of pasta! Also great for shrimp, ravioli, hot dogs, carrots, peas, and much more!"

And Ooo, not to be out done, the Vidalia Chop Wizard: "Chops and dices in one swift motion! Never needs sharpening! Chop your kitchen prep time in half, giving you more time to enjoy your delicious dishes!"

But why do you care?

Well, you shouldn't ...Though, lessening the time spent on such long + tedious chores such as boiling (things) and chopping (things) is cutting edge and deserves your attention ...You shouldn't care, neither did I, as I spent 10 minutes hiding in the "As Seen On TV" aisle @ my local CVS Pharmacy, earlier this evening.

I braved the -3 temps with one goal, in mind: cinnamon heart candies ...As I browsed the leftover assortment of pink + red holiday treats ("They can't be out of cinnamon hearts!") ...A guy walked by, stopped and turned around:

Guy: "Damn, you're real cute"
Me: [headphones on -pressed smile -eyes darting back to my quest for cinnamon confections]
Guy: "Hey, what's your name?"
Me: "Sorry"
Guy: "Aww, I just wanna know your name ...Cute girl like you in the candy aisle, you lookin' for candy?"
Me: [side-stepping away ...away!]
Guy: "You know, I bet you sweet ...like candy, bein' in the candy aisle -You sweet like this aisle!"
Me: [cue the crickets ...A-ha! Cinnamon hearts there you are!]
Guy: "You know, that's what they call an euphemism, you know that? Sweet ...candy ...You in this aisle"
Me: "Yes ...Thanks ...Have a good night"
Guy: "Aww you too sweet cutie!"

And then like a hawk, circling it's prey -This guy opted to linger ...And just as the check-out line was within my sight -Who had beaten me there!? In a mad-dash/lightbulb moment, I ducked down the "As Seen On TV" aisle, until the shark had left the waters ...That's an euphemism ...you know?

The Long Of A Short Month, In Other Words: A Bit Dull w/ Nice Bone Structure

Train stop convenience store, purchase: 1 Oatmeal + Raisin Clif Bar
Me: [hands clerk money]
Clerk: [hands back change] "POWER!"
Me: "…Yes!" [Mental Note: What?]
…..


Thursday night, heading home after work, I stood on the train platform awaiting an outbound train towards home …I always walk to the front of the platform, in hopes of catching the first or second car (Rush hour aside –Generally, a given for a seat) …Unfortunately, the heating lamps do not reach the front of the platform so I stood there, bundled up like a ninja, peering down the tracks (And yeah ok –My pride scoffs at cold –Scoff!)…A CTA worker came up the stairs to start his rounds …Pushing the heating lamps on –And that's how I met Benjamin and learned that A. It's hard being both British and black, B. That I have "very nice, amazing" bone structure.

[CTA worker walks closer to my end of the platform]
CTA Worker: [in a surprising British accent]: "Aren't you cold? Why not stand underneath the heating lamp?"
Me: [Yes, cold …A tad blurry-eyed, tired, headphones on] "Sorry?"
CTA Worker: "It's cold –You must be freezing"
Me: "A train will be here soon –Plus, the cold keeps me awake." (Let the verbal diarrhea begin!)
[Blah blah blah …He asks what I do, I say student/vet assistant –No, I don't want to be a veterinarian …Blah blah blah …He's been in the States for a handful of years, born/raised outside of Manchester, UK. He likes "football" (shocker) …We both agree that Chicago's a great city, love living here, blah blah –I keep peering down the platform for a train]
CTA Worker: "A lot of people question what I am –'Are you black?' Of course I'm black! It's my accent that alarms them at first, I fear. I was shocked to find such ignorance in New York City. Such ignorance!"
Me: "Ah …I can imagine" [Mental Note: Ok …Train? Anyone? Anyone?]
CTA Worker: "Once they get to know me though, they see that I'm just like them …I mean, I too like sports. I don't deal with much of that in Chicago –There are so many cultures and niches to fit into. Are you sure we haven't talked before?"
Me: "I'm afraid not" [Where are you train?]
CTA Worker: 'I'd definitely remember you. I saw you walking up on the platform –You have very nice –amazing –bone structure. Very memorable." [motions to his face]
Me: "Ah, thank you" [Here we go …Oo wait, headlights! Hooray a train!]
CTA Worker: "I'm Benjamin –Not Ben, I've really enjoyed our conversation. I hope to see you more often around this stop" [offers gloved hand]
Me: "Nice to meet you Benjamin –Not Ben. Take care" [I walked onto the train, pushing my scarf over my "very nice –amazing" bone structure]

…..

I worked Friday morning until Noon, per usual …My "must" for the day was to stop by my cats' vet (a few blocks away) and pick up more dry food (I mentioned this process a few weeks back …Since Primo's diabetic, he's on "special" diabetic dry food –Delicious). This time around, I also wanted to see if the vet could fax Primo's medical records to my work, since I really want Primo see one of the vets @ my work. It was actually, this very week, last year, that Primo first crashed diabetic and while I was amazed @ the care Primo received throughout his grueling 5 day stay @ the vet (The vet would call @ 130AM "Almost lost him but we got him back" and telling me that "we're trying all that we can and I have a lot of hope but you really should prepare yourself for the worst") –Such top-notch care has slowly been on the decline. His vet is on his way towards retirement and has had a stand-in vet the past handful of times I've had to take Primo in (She's the one that calls him "sir," every other sentence). Short of the a somewhat long/boring explanation: The vets @ my work come highly recommended and I have the employee perk of discounted service. It's silly that I've waited this long.

I should mention that on my way out, as I opened my apartment door, I noticed something eerily reminiscent of last February …Spotting @ the front door. That immediately sounded the alarms …The last time Primo started spotting @ the front door, was when he crashed …Mental Note: NO! (in a high pitch mental note scream).

After paying for the (overpriced) bag of dry food …
Me: "Also, I was wondering if it'd be possible to fax Primo's medical records to my work …?"
Ms. Rude VA: "Um, what? Fax them to your …work? WHY?"
Me: "Yes …I work @ Treehouse and I'd like a copy of Primo's medical records"
Ms. Rude VA: "Um …I don't know how to do that [pause] …Do you really need a copy? I guess I could copy it for you"
Me: "Yes, that'd work"
[10 minutes pass …She asks for the spelling of my last name 4 separate times and I find myself thinking of what my Mom used to tell people "Phelps –P as in Peter, S as in Sam"]
Ms. RudeVA: [talking a few feet away w/ another assistant] "Yeah, THIS GIRL WANTS A COPY OF HER CAT'S MEDICAL RECORDS BECAUSE SHE'S GOING TO ANOTHER VET! Do I just COPY them for HER? WHAT? No, she wants to go to ANOTHER VET"
Me: [Mental Note: Geeze, all I asked for was my cat's medical record and she was acting as though I said "You know, that scrub top is doing nothing for your figure" Plus, she made sure I heard her annoyed sighs]
[10 minutes later …]
Ms. Rude: "HERE! THEY'RE NOT IN ORDER. Now is THAT all?"
Me: "Yes, that's all, thank you …And just so you know, it's not a matter of switching vets. I still have two cats that see Dr. Kas."
Ms. Rude VA: "WHATEVER"

Lovely.

Later that evening, Primo and I played an ongoing game of catch and I fully gave in to his "I have a broken pancreas" guilt trip.

My Blind Date w/ Homeland Security (Minus Clever Captions + a Hot Tub)

10AM rolled around yesterday (as it usually does) and there I was -Shoes on, hair pulled back, rubbing sleep from my eyes. I had a handful of things I could be doing or rather should have been doing (or would overall rather be doing) but every time I thought of such a list, I feared the phone ringing -It's my date w/ Homeland Security! So I sat there sipping my coffee and trying to control my escalating annoyance (Orange Alert!) towards this no-face Homeland Security officer -10:05, 10:10, 10:15, 10:20 ...Why, why did I agree to this!? I'm being held hostage by Homeland Security and a neighbor I don't even know!

Sunday: 2:20PM, I had 5 minutes to spare before leaving for work. Music blaring, toothbrush in mouth, hopping around as I put my shoes on -Keys? Where are my keys? A-ha!

[Ring, ring]
Mental note: Argh! [look @ caller ID] Telemarketer! Fine.
Me: "HELLO?" [I neglected to turn down my stereo]
Man: "Hello, is this Ms. Amanda Jordyn Phelps?"
Me: "YES, it IS"
Man: "Hello, this is Homeland Security ..."
Me: "Oo ...Hi!"

Whoops. I'm great w/ first impressions -I was under the impression that this interview would be via phone ...And I was wrong. Face to face, 10AM Tuesday, my building's lobby. Great.

Me: "We can meet in my building's lobby, if that's ok. Afterall, you are a stranger" (I added that last bit for pure amusement).

Monday, 1020AM:

[Ring, ring]
Meredith (front desk lady extraordinaire): "Amanda, honey -There's a man here for you ...from Homeland Security" (said w/ much hesitation, I might add)
Me: "I'll be right down!"
(Mental note: Oo no, Meredith's imagination is getting the best of her. I'll have to explain this to her or be subject to her raised eyebrow stare).

(I didn't catch his name but he did show me a badge -Which I guess makes me a statistic of naivete. What did he look like? Think X-Files "Cancer Man" meets John Goodman minus any form of humor, sans earpiece)
HS: "Ms. Phelps? Hello"
[handshake ...He had HUGE hands. We walk into the "sitting room" within the lobby]
HS Man: "Thank you for your time. Blah blah neighbor applied for blah blah blah just a few questions blah blah."
Me: "I know that he mentioned he's not very close w/ his neighbors and that's true."
(Let my verbal diarrhea begin!)
HS: "Yes but that's not as important as what you've SEEN"
Me: "Ok ..."
HS: "How long have you lived in this building?"
Me: "Almost 5 yrs."
HS: "Almost?"
(He was taking notes on EVERYTHING ...He scribbled "Almost")
HS: "Blah blah blah"
Me: "Blah blah blah"
HS: "How often do you see him around the building?"
Me: "I've seen him in uniform a handful of times ...Probably 4 or 5 times throughout the week."
HS: "Where do you usually see him?"
Me: "Er ...The mailroom, elevator, down the hall ..."
(Notes, notes, notes)
HS: "And there's never been any sort of disturbance?"
Me: "No, never. He seems, from what little I know of him, to be an upstanding guy, quiet, low-key, polite ..."
(scribbles "polite"!)
HS: "Do you know anything about his "natural" status?"
(Mental note: What? Oo brother ...)
Me: "I don't know anything about that, sorry"
HS: "I only ask to make sure that he stands by his country, blah blah blah"
Me: "Oo um, yeah, I don't know him that well @ all ...Like I said though, he seems to be a rather conservative guy -Quiet, low-key, polite ...But not quiet in an offish way"
(Where are my paddles!? This ship is going down!)
HS: "Very good. I've met him and I would agree with you."
Me: "Well there were a few times he didn't hold the elevator for me ...Haha ...ha ...?"
HS: (Silent -Note taking)
(Mental Note: Crap!)

The "interview" lasted for another 10 minutes. He asked where I moved from, double-checked the spelling of my last name, where I go to school/where I work. Eventually I reverted to my usual conversation filler "It seems mighty windy outside" but he wasn't taking the bait. We shook hands, a "have a nice day" exchange. As I turned the corner, towards Meredith, she shot me a "Are you ok, girl?" glance -I smiled, slight nod.

I caught the elevator back to my apartment w/ my building's Billy Preston look-a-like exterminator (The smell of his Wash n' Curl shampoo filling my nostrils).

Billy Preston: "You ok, girl? You look good ...Lemme look at you ...Good, you lookin' good today. So pretty."
Me: "Thanks ...Yeah, I'm ok. Just an interview for a neighbor"
Billy Preston: "Is it ok if I'm friendly w/ you?"
Me: "I have a FBI agent downstairs!"
[laughter ...Come on 7th floor! 5-6-7 -Ding!]
Me: "Have a good day!"
Billy Preston: "Good seein' you, girl. You have yourself a beautiful day!"

Overall, I'd rate my Homeland Security "interview" as boring, anticlimactic, borderline awkward and chocked full o' some tasty morsels of BS.

My "cop neighbor" better: A. Get the job, B. Send me a fruit basket -extra kiwi.
I better: A. Not be audited this year, B. (as Marshall suggested) check myself for radiation.

In other news, my long lost bro is back and I for one couldn't be happier.

Like A Good Neighbor: How I Helped the Federal Bureau

[knock, knock ...I set down my delicious Dunkin' Donuts coffee -just black -Answer the front door]

Me: "Hello?"
Cop Neighbor (from down the hall w/ female companion in tow): "Hi!"
[Primo runs into hallway -Neighbor's female companion jumps back]
Cop Neighbor: [laugh] "Cute cat!"
Me: [struggling w/ Primo] "Thanks."
Cop Neighbor: "I live down the hall ..." [points] " ... And I've applied for a job within the Federal Bureau" [pause]
Me: "Congrats?"
Cop Neighbor: "Thank you! Anyway, part of my application includes a background check and a brief interview w/ two of my neighbors"
Me: "Oo? ..."
Cop Neighbor: "I explained to them that I don't really know any of my neighbors but they said that didn't matter ...So, I'm going door to door, asking my neighbors -like YOU- if they would be interested in helping me out"
Me: "Ah yes ...Would you like me to relate childhood stories?"
[laughter]
Cop Neighbor: "You would only have to say that you've seen me around and that I'm pretty low-key, quiet, etc."
Me: "Not 'Yeah, I see him passed out in the hallway often'?"
[forced laughter]
Cop Neighbor: "Oo no, no. You can say I watch your cat. Ha ...ha"
[awkward ...Mental note: What?]
Me: "Not 'Oo yeah, THAT guy, I usually have to step over him to get to the elevator'?"
[more forced laughter]
Cop Neighbor: "I hate to bother you"
Me: "No bother ...I'll help" [Mental note: What?]
Cop Neighbor: "Great! When would be a good time for them to contact you?"
Me: "Usually in the AM -And if you want the job, preferably after my first cup of coffee"
[forced laughter ...The schmoozy/car salesman kind]
Cop Neighbor: "Thanks a lot!"

Damn, it wasn't Amway.

So I have a call from the FBI comin' down the pike. Wonderful. I'm debating whether or not to tell them how this "cop neighbor" never holds the elevator for me and that the times I do catch the elevator he always walks off first, even when I'm closer to the doors -Surely, that's against FBI code -I'm a lady!

On a random note: I'm a French Humacorn!

The Big Beans & the Unappreciated Art of Elevator Etiquette: I Woke Up This Morning

[9AM -Ring, ring]

Vet: Hello?"
Me: "Hi, I was curious if you had any DM (diabetic maintence) dry food, in?"
Vet: "DM? Let me check, can you hold?"
Me: "Sure, thank you"
Vet: "Hello? Yeah, we have DM -Feline?"
Me: "Yes, great"
Vet: "For a cat, right?"
Me: "Um, yes"
Vet: "Dry or wet?"
Me: "Dry"
Vet: Let me double check, again, can you hold?"
Me: "Sure, thanks"
Vet: "Ok, DM for feline ...cat ...dry. We have it."
Me: "Thank you, I'll be in shortly"

Since the vet is located a few steps from a Dunkin' Donuts, I figured I'd stop by Dunkin' to pick up 2lbs. of whole bean coffee. I rummaged through Dunkin's fine fine selection of beans and could only find one bag of "original blend" in whole bean.

Maarcia (@ least that's what her name tag said): "Hi, welcome to Dunkin' Donuts, how may I help you?"
Me: "Good morning ...I was curious if you had anymore whole bean coffee in original blend?""
Maarcia: "Original blend ...Whole beans? The big beans?"
Me: "Yes"
Maarcia: "Let me check, hold on"
[Maarcia flags down the manager who's puttin' out fires ...Well, not literally]
Manager: "You want original blend?" [starts rifling through the many bags -Which I already looked through -She hands me a bag of ground original blend] "See! Here's a bag!"
Me: "Yes, but that's ground ...I'd like whole bean"
Manager: "The big beans?"
Me: "Yes ...please?"
[Maarcia shows up with two bags of original whole beans ...the "big beans"]
Me: "Great! Thank you."
[Maarcia rings up both bags]
Maarcia: "$17.35"
Me: 'Um, you're having a special -2 bags for $11.99"
Maarcia: "Oo ...We are? Just a second"
[Manager returns and teaches Maarcia how to ring up specials "Punch COUPON!"]
Maarcia: "$12.10"
[I hand her $13]
Maarcia: "Do you have a 10 cent?"
Me: "I might" [dig into pockets, change falls out. Mental note: Sure Maarcia, anything to make your day easier] "Here you go, thanks! Have a nice day!"
Maarcia: "Yeah"

Walk home, step into elevator w/ an elderly man.

Me: "What floor?"
Old Man w/ a Band-Aid on his chin: "2"
[Press 2 and 7]
Old Band-Aid Man: "No! No! I said 10!"
Me: "Oo! I'm sorry, whoops" [I swear he said 2]
Old Band-Aid Man: "You can't hear me with those things in your ears!"
Me: "Oo ...yeah, I'm sorry" [Defense: Yes, I had my headphones -ahem, things, in my ears but I wasn't listening to anything @ the moment]
Old Band-Aid Man: "It's ok ...I don't think either of us has to use the bathroom so we'll be ok"
[awkward laughter -Mental note: What?]

Sometimes I miss jellybeans.

Amanda Jordyn, PI: I See Busy People

I live across from a rather popular local coffee shop, which makes for excellent people watching -A pastime that I've both neglected and feel creepy for.

The other day, I happened to walk by one of my 7th story windows and look out onto the parking lot, across the street ...And what did I see? Why, I saw "busy" people! ...Smoking, drinking coffee, leaning back -You know, busy ...busy people.



Boy o boy, I thought I was busy -I wish to be THAT busy, someday ...Dream a lil dream ...

Sidenote: I opted to omit a bit part about a local video/design company (aka they have an office of Eames furniture and shoot weddings) because I'm turning over a new leaf and ok I'm also convinced they search myspace for new clients.

Sidenote #2: I'm listening to Lemuria, which unfortunately is not listed within the myspace music database ...So just so everyone knows I'm listening to them and you should too! J, do you realize how groundbreaking this is ...I actually like something you've done (aww) ...Amazing.