Time for another Weekly Which I Totally Stoled From Chris!
Do you ever say “stoled”? Like, “I stoled it”? Is this a midwestern-ism? It’s one of those phrases that just warms me to the core when I hear it. Like “hisself.” Or “I coulda went” instead of “I could have gone.” All of those speak to me on some subconscious childhood level that I am not even aware of. I must have heard these things in the womb or something. No Baby Einstein for me! Instead, my folks were hanging out with people who were all “He coulda went and stoled it hisself!” And there were probably cusswords thrown in. Because I have an irrational love of those too. I was also apparently brought up in a world where babbling incoherent thoughts to strangers was held in high esteem as well. Because hi. That’s what I do.
Back to the Weeklies! Oh, but before I do that, one more thing. Speaking of Weeklies, there is a free alternative newspaper in my town called the Weekly. I bet your town has something like this. Alternative news in the front, “adult services” ads at the end? I like to think of these kinds of papers, with their serious fronts and seedy backs as the mullets of the news world. You know, business up front, party in the back? Anyhoo. The Weekly has an “I Saw U” section. It’s a personal ad section where people write in if they saw some stranger somewhere that they want to send a message to. For instance, it could go something like this: “I was on the Edmonds Kingston ferry boat last Monday and saw you getting out of your car. You had a polka dot satchel and you smiled at me on the ferry stairs. Thought we had a moment. Go for a drink?” Something like that. Guess what, you guys? I got an I Saw U once, a few months ago! It cited the reference question I helped this person with, and the color shirt I was wearing, and the location. It was definitely me. I was:
1. Totally excited to be in the I Saw U section. Why? I don’t know. But it was exciting to be all “hey! That’s ME!”
2. Annoyed that the person didn’t really know what an I Saw U is. It’s for chance encounters. You see someone in passing, in a place where you can’t track them down, and so your only recourse is to send out an I Saw U ad, like a message in a bottle, hoping the other person will chance upon it. It’s not for sending a random message to someone who works at a specific place. I work at the library. Every day. I am always there. If you want to say hi to me, there I am. No I Saw U necessary. Stupid.
No one ever followed up on this I Saw U, so I guess I will never get a chance to tell him/her that I think they are kind of idiotic. That’s good, since it’s not exactly a good, romantic ending to an I Saw U.
Get on with the freakin’ Weekly already! Goddammit, Librarian Girl!
Weekly TeeVee: Although I am loathe to admit that anything that has to do with Ashton Kutcher is something I am liking, the first episode of Beauty and the Geek cracked my shit up. Except the guy that they are touting as the male beauty? Ew. That guy is not good. Really, not good. Who cast that guy? He looks like someone who would smell like baby oil. If you have no idea what that means, I am really happy for you. Because no one should know what that means.
Weekly Music: I have been singing a lot of commercial jingles lately. Is that what they’re called? Jingles? Like “I’ve got the fever for the flavor of a Pringles!” and “Monchichi Monchichi oh so soft and cud-del-lee” and “Please don’t eat all the morsels!” As we were driving home the other night, we drove by an auto parts store. I busted out with “Schuck’s has a plan for every small child, woman and man!” Pause. “You know, that commercial doesn’t make any sense. Why would Schuck’s have a plan for every small child, woman and man? And what about large children? No plan for them?” Nordic Boy, bless him, had the answer. “Because that’s not how it goes. It’s for every car, truck, wagon and van.” Oh.
Weekly Worst Moment: I am a confident public speaker. I don’t get nervous to talk in front of people, and I don’t understand why this would be on the top of any sort of list of phobias. I don’t need a script, I don’t care what the topic is, I can come up with something to say off the top of my head. But folklore has it that people fear speaking in front of other people more than they fear death. Something tells me that has got to be an urban myth. Because speechmaking vs. kicking the bucket? That seems like a no-contest situation right there. I was at an outreach event at a local middle school the other day, merely in a coordinating role. I wasn’t supposed to say anything, I was just there to support the people who were there to say something. Then, in the middle of the presentation, all of a sudden the people who were there to talk pointed at me, sitting on the floor in the back of the auditorium, and called upon me to say something very, very unexpected. All 200 8th grade heads turned around to look at me, and I had to scramble up from my stupid sitting position to say something that came out sounding a lot like this: “ah, yes. well, that is a great point you’ve made there. And I will now respond to that point, which was great, by the way, and in terms of points being made in this here auditorium, that one is one which I was hoping to comment upon, so I am so glad that you chose this moment to include me, because as points go, I would like to say the following about that wonderful point that you have brought into the forum here, and thanks so much for bouncing that point, in this forum, to my side of said forum, because I was hoping it would bounce in this general direction for me to catch and then bounce back although, due to the pointy nature of your point, it may not bounce so much as be thrown in a dart-like manner to the next person and so watch out because that pointy point may be dangerous!.” Ok, so it wasn’t that bad. It just felt like that. That seriously has never, ever happened to me. Now I see the correlation between public speaking and death.
Weekly Best Moment: After the above-mentioned moment, as I was gathering up my stuff to leave, a group of giggly 8th grade girls came over to me to tell me they loved my outfit. I am highly attuned to 8th grade sarcasm, and I am almost sure these girls meant it. The lesson here is that when I make an ass of myself, compliment me on something completely shallow and I will forget the bad moment ever happened. It also means that being accepted by 8th grade girls has just as much of a powerful effect as it did when I was actually in 8th grade. Which maybe needs to be filed under the Weekly Scariest Moment.
Weekly Picture: This is what the place looked like before the scene of my verbal downfall and fashion comeback. Remember when you had to sit in places like this? Eeek, right?