Merry Christmas Tree

I have a Christmas tree. I splurged on a very ghetto 6 foot fake one from the local Walgreens, but it is pretty full even if it is very fake. I put it up and decorated it (and inspired by Margaret got LED lights for it). The lights are crazy bright, but I should've bought more. Oh well, maybe I will just mix in some of my roommates lights. We'll see.

I watched Clerks 2 as I put the tree together and decorated it, and that movie is hilarious. It was a much better movie then I expected, and I think I liked it a lot more then the first one. It even made me feel better about myself, like the movie's moral (and yes it does have one) was directed at me and things that I have been thinking and worrying about in the past year or so. It was a good night--even if it is probably snowing like a mother outside my door.

Sending out better karma

I really believe that what you put out in the world comes back to you, and I feel that I have been putting more badness and pettiness out into the universe then I ought to lately (bitching about work and my bosses and random other cattiness). To head things off at the pass I am going to concentrate on sending out some good.

I am going to be nicer at work. Not say anything if I can't say anything nice. Speak up with a compliment when I see something good in others. Smile at people as I walk down the street. Be a good friend. Listen. Okay, try to listen better.

That is a start. We shall see how it goes.

Guys, I am just not worth it!!

My brother and my cousin cut down a tree this past weekend. They are however fairly dangerous idiots (or at least they can be), so it got kind of exciting, and I am told that when I see the pictures I will shake my head.

They decided to cut the top off first, so that it didn't take out my cousins tree as it fell, but the ladder they had was not tall enough. My brother decided that was no problem he would just climb up the rest of the tree like a monkey, and from his perch in the tree he would use the chainsaw to trim off the little branches making it tilt. They decided to go after the little branches first because eventually they would have to trim the big branch that was really causing all the leaning over toward the house problem--figuring that would minimize the pull back when the big branch finally fell. But they did trim the big branch, or rather my brother cut it off with a chainsaw while he was still sitting in the tree.

Think of all the ways this could end badly--swaying from a tree branch with a moving chainsaw in your hands. Fortunately, it ended fine with the tree getting cut down and no people or property suffering any damage (except for the tree itself which was, of course, the point). My brother remarked that afterwards he had the thought, "What the hell did I just do? That was stupid."

I remarked that he could have died or been maimed. Yesiree, that's my gene pool at work.

Oprah is making me cry

I am watching her show sobbing right now. Instead of her favorite things she gave away $1,000 a person to give to a stranger to pay it forward. The things people did are so wonderful and touching and snowballed so amazingly that as they tell the stories I start to bawl. Tears are running down my face, and my nose is all snotted up.

A woman's shelter in Atlanta got $200,000 from the $1,000. A family in Centralia who have a father with a brain tumor got $73,000--including paying off all the medical bills and a college scholarship for one of the kids. A hospital in Hawaii got bunch of air fare tickets so the families of the sick kids could fly from their islands to the hospital.

The stories are amazing. I wish I could stop crying. Or maybe I don't. This is fabulous. These people are just normal people, but when given the opportunity they all raised to the challenge and became extraordinary.

Closing

I closed with two managers and another associate and it still took until forty-two minutes after the hour. Seriously, Keith manages to slow Laura the caffeinated wonder down! Amazing. We only got out of there early because Laura was there. It was ridiculous. Also the day started with me finding a dirty diaper sitting on a chest of drawers at work.

Someone changed their kid's diaper and closed it all up and left it on a piece of furniture. In the middle of the store!!!!! The wrongness of this is kind of overwhelming. Who does that? Really? That was the kind of people I got today. It was long, long, and very long, and it was a busy day. How busy days get long, I do not know.

Hero of the week

New thing, each week I am going to name someone who is my hero for that week, just because I think it is a good thing to do.

This week it is my friend Sara Jo. She is the hero of the week because she went to an audition where they told her not to prepare a monologue and then asked for one, and she did it, and she was awesome. Then, they asked her to dance for it, and even though the thought scared her. She did. She danced on camera in a room where all the other auditioners were sitting around and watching, and she did this without dance training or preparation. She just stepped it up. Then, later, we went to a play and danced on stage like monkeys.

That play was the 500 clown Christmas, and it ruled. It was hilarious and weird and I highly recommend it. I would however not recommend going on the same night as drunk Bob. He sat in front of us and was wasted (or there is an outside chance he is mentally handicapped, but I am pretty sure it is wasted). The clowns talk to the audience before the show and learn people's names, and one of the clowns knows Sara and I quite well (yes geniuses, Paul). He introduced Sara and I to drunk Bob, so Bob asks Sara (as he shakes our hands), "Are you promiscuous? He said you were promiscuous." I laugh, and Sara tries to extricate herself from the conversation as rapidly as possible. I laugh. Then later in the show, I am helping pour seltzer water for everyone in my row (don't ask, it has to do with Christmas being the best time of the year. . .to be drunk), and Bob grabs my ass. Yeah, he grabs it (while sitting next to his son, his daughter, and his wife). Even later he farts. Like whoopee cushion farts. Awesome. Things I won't miss when I see the show again, Bob. Pretty much just Bob.

The show is however wonderful, and I would recommend it to people in Maryland (where they will be next week), and all Chicago types. It runs through the holiday season.

That's all I got folks, talk later.

Perversity of Cussedness

I spent a portion of my afternoon watching a little documentary on a fascinating would-be polar expedition that never made it to Antarctica. Instead they got frozen into the chunky ice flow right off shore. They were stuck there for an Antarctic winter, and then their ship was crushed by ice. They abandoned and then spent like another 7 months (after the 7 months stuck on it) trying to get rescued facing every terrible freezing cold odd that you can imagine. Their ship, by the way, was called the Endurance as was the movie. It was amazing.

The human body and spirit has such incredible survival capacity that it blows my mind. We here in the advanced world tax it in almost no way. My cousin the Ultimate Fighter pushes it a little, as does my brother the extreme climber, but really the rest of us have no idea what our physical beings are capable of. Just contemplating how easy life is in comparison to any other time in history begins to bring it into perspective. Even one hundred years ago, life was much physically harder. Oh, this expedition happened in 1914-1916 when they had like wool sleeping bags for cover. Wool, just wool (some people had fur but not everyone).

Now I am watching a discovery channel show about climbing Mt. Everest, and Sherpas are freaking badasses. They are amazing. The rest of us whiteys who climb Everest are freaking pansies in comparison. Wow.

Tonight I will sleep pondering the amazing capacity of the human.

Random Asian Dude

Last night I was out late watching movies with Johnny B, Sara Jo, and Angie--at their house. Their house is sort of out in the boondocks. It is a long walk to a train, but near a couple of bus stops, and the train line it is near is the wrong one to get to my house. So I wait for a bus when I go home, and it only comes every half an hour past midnight.

So there I am at 12:30am, at this random intersection in Polish town. There is this Asian dude (probably 22 or 23) talking on the phone. He is obviously a little intoxicated and trying to give driving directions to friends to get them to where he and I were standing, but he has a problem. He has no real idea where he is in relationship to anything else at all, so what does he do to help fix his problem? He gets me to talk on the phone to his friend and give the friend directions to where we are.

The friend has no idea who I am, and I think may have thought he was talking to one of their other friends. Phone guy also refuses to let me get off the phone because he has no idea where he is going but seems to think I can save him (me, who never drives in this city). Meanwhile, Asian guy randomly keeps thanking me and explaining to me that his friend Joe is Italian because that makes everything about my evening way less surreal--Joe is Italian, of course! Problem solved.

Anyway, I get Joe to our interesection, and random asian guy keeps thanking me. I say, "You're welcome, it was no problem." Because really, what else was I going to do while waiting for the bus. Asian guy however can't let it be and feels he needs to pay me back, so he gives me $1 in quarters which is all that he has in his coat pockets. I made $1 waiting for the bus yesterday, and I got this charming story.

Why is my life so weird? Perhaps it is because Joe is Italian.

Relief

That is what I felt last night as I flipped back in time to one year ago. I was wanting to see if I had written down some intimation of what I had said in an email to Paul when I was mad crushing and thought he was interested in me too--because, prompted by something Sara Jo said, I thought that perhaps I had foolishly professed my love for him in an email. I didn't recall doing something like that, but let's face it, it is totally something that I would do.

However, I did not profess my love of anything to him. I may have sort of asked him out on a date, but that is a far cry from love profession. A year removed from being ignored when emailing someone about what could be a date is way, way less awkward then a year removed from email love profession followed by painful silence. This weird can be blamed far more entirely on him then on me. He is just weird, and that is not helped by having to hang out with my very own downright strange.

Please raise your hand in the comments if my writing made this almost unintelligible.

Went to the Circus

It was basically awesome. There were 7 elephants, and I love elephants. Plus some way cool aerial work and guys riding motorcylces around in a spherical cage. It was sweet, and I think that Jesse Highley (of way back in my CMSU days) was in it. He is a clown for Ringling, I know, but there are three tours. However, I think his clown was in this one, but I am not positive. I am going to try to get ahold of him if he is in town for the next week with this particular circus, but now I must eat dinner and make my way to Johnny B, Sara, and Angie's for Grey's Anatomy.

Bridesmaid Dresses

I went shopping for them today, for my roommate. She isn't getting married, but her sister is so that she gets to pick them out. I helped. We found a pretty one with a belt. Simple, a-line, crepe and organza. It was nice. The best part was that we weren't in the "House of Brides" for all that long, and she bought me food.

On a barely related note, I am sort of baffled by toll roads. We don't have them out West, and they still seem very foreign to me. They make sense as far as revenue gathering goes, but they are odd. Like a new animal or plant species, I know what they are, but I have yet to adjust to their presence or existence.

Why am I so mean?

Today was my friend Brian's birthday, and to celebrate it, I watched my friend Sara bake him a cake, and then we took it to him. He is a Studio 60 fan (just like myself), and he was watching it with his roommates and his friend Zack. I call Zack 'Pretty Zack' because he is one of those classically attractive people who are always hot without ever trying. He can be wearing a fancy-schmancy suit or a dirty sweatshirt, but I am always going to find him attractive. However, I am totally mean to him every time I see him, but not I-am-in-third-grade-and-I-think-I-like-you mean way, just a run of the mill thoughtless-know-it-all mean way.

Example: the last time I saw him I corrected a joke he was poaching from 'When Harry Met Sally' (he used Lebanese food as the reference instead of Ethiopian, so he really even destroyed the funny of the joke). Tonight, he thought that Patricia Arquette was the lead chick in 'High Fidelity,' and she isn't--some Danish chick is. I know all this random uselessness off the top of my head, so I have to blurt it out without thinking, and when someone doubts I am right, I must argue with them (because, in these two cases specifically, I unequivocally know I am correct). Anyway, every time I speak to Zack, I am this mean sort of know-it-all. I am sure he hates me because I would hate me. It isn't that I am interested in him and want him to like me because I am not (but I wouldn't kick him out of bed either, I am no fool). I just feel bad that I am a jerk to my friend Brian's friends. Let's face it, I feel bad that I am a jerk at all, and I am apparently kind of a tool.

Also, PS some of my friends need to warn a girl when a man she has obsessed over a great deal in the past (and even put herself out there for--which I don't always do because I talk a big game and rarely ever walk it), they need to warn her when he is sleeping on their couch and she is over visiting. There I am at John, Sara, and Angie's when Angie comes home with Paul from rehearsal. Oh, hi person I haven't talked to in a year, you know since I threw myself at you and you oh so carefully ducked. No, no this isn't awkward in the least since no one gave me fair warning. Thanks a lot people.

Seriously, I think it went ok. I mean it was a little weird, but he is a little weird, so it could be just that. Please? Please be just that, and damn is he still the sexiest man I know in real life (sorry Henry, one day when we meet, you can take that title, but for now, you live only in my dreams--and somewhere in LA).

Conversation Terrorist

That is what I am. Lately I have had a few specific interchanges where I have actually been so much of one that I noticed my reign of terror. I take people hostage with my conversation. They can't run and they can't hide, and they never know when it will strike next. Actually, my friends do know when it will strike next because they are used to it. Strangers, on the other hand, are totally screwed. They start talking to the friendly girl in the store, and the next thing they know they can't leave.

The sad thing is that it occasionally makes me wonder if they think I have no friends and that is why I am so desperate to talk to them, but really the desperation is mostly boredom. Well boredom and laziness. If I don't talk to strangers (or as I like to call it, engage with customers) I might have to do work. Strangers are more interesting then work, and it only works with real strangers. I can talk to a stranger who is shopping in my store way longer then I can talk to a friend of mine who is shopping in the store because it can still be considered shopping if it is a stranger.

I like talking to strangers, and I would even take their candy if they offered it.

PS Way excited that my spellcheck came back with a message about not detecting any errors.

Cold and rainy walk home

And I was even going to venture out tonight, but the weather is so icky. I must stay in. I am going to order some food, and watch some movies with my germ infested roommate (she has the step throat).

Also, my house is boy free right now. For a few days that was not true, but it is now, and it is kind of clean and it smells nice, which is good.

I don't want to be like Jesus, I am fucking Jesus.

The Pillowman ruled. It freaked me out. Michael Shannon and Jim True-Frost rock my world, as does Martin McDonough. Everyone should see it or read it or something.

I didn't get a sticker

I voted, but I didn't get a sticker, and I got to vote in the back of a book store which is way cooler then my Washington polling places ever were (the grange hall and the saddle club)! But I didn't get a sticker. I got a piece of paper--it does however give me a discount on books at the book store.

Tonight I go see the Pillowman at Steppenwolf.

A weird coincidence

I was trying to figure out what speed dial numbers belong to my roommates today (because every person in my phone has a # and if I just type that in I can call them faster), and so I was looking for the #'s for a few people by scrolling through all of them, and the # 69 belongs to a particular someone I seem to have a particular weakness for who may be moving here in not all that long of a time. Because God hates me. I would've been just fine not knowing this. My friend Jessica predicts I will probably do something that will turn out to be stupid, and this just seems to be a sign that that is almost definitely going to happen.

In and completely unrelated note, sometimes when I visit my own blog from outside of the blogger dashboard it lies about how many comments are attached to a post, for example saying there aren't any when I can see that obviously isn't true when I click on the button. I don't get it, unless it is a glitch in my bookmarks because it sometimes needs me to push refresh on pages in my bookmarks that I visit often that get updated regularly (ie blogs powered by blogger). It kind of sucks. I will go for days thinking no one likes me or that someone isn't posting when in fact they have been all along. I do not like this Sam I am.

I am so a person on an Oprah episode

Yesterday I was talking to my sister on the phone (she is starting a business as a wedding/special events consultant and giving up teaching), and she couldn't get over the fact that I wasn't coming home for either holiday this fall and winter. I tried to explain to her that I am poor in a way she has never been, and it is just too expensive for me to fly home for a holiday (especially when I can only be home for like 4 days tops). It just isn't worth it if I can go home in the summer for like a week and a half with my ticket costing half as much. I love my family, but I barely have money to replace a pair of shoes I wear at work all the time, so paying eight or nine hundred dollars to go home isn't happening. That is almost as much money as I take home in a whole month. If she wanted to buy me a ticket for Christmas or something that is a whole different story (of course).

That is a long intro to me going home this summer for my ten year high school reunion (because I think that I am going to go). This means I have nine months (give or take) to get thinner and in better shape, so that I will look absolutely fabulous at the reunion. I was kind of dowdy and nerdy in high school (actually subtract the kind of and insert extremely), and I am easily way better looking now (it helps that now I like myself which definitely wasn't true then). This means I am a cliche!!! I am like all of those women who want to go on Oprah because she is their only hope, and I really am like them. It would be so awesome to be a knock out at my reunion. I also should be putting money away now to buy the most perfect dress ever. Hmmm, way too much to think about. It is like I am in a bad romantic comedy movie. Oh my god, if I meet or remeet someone from high school there and fall in love someone please shoot me. Seriously, shoot me. That seems unlikely to happen. I am way to cynical, and they would all have had to have major life/personality transplants (which I guess is possible, I mean I have a whole different life and am a much perkier person--again, I need to stop thinking about this). I am really concerned about the getting thinner thing. It is consuming way too much of my thinking (and ironically making me crave all the things I should avoid if I am going to make it actually happen--like hagen daas, I want some right now, dulce de leche).

First I might need to get some discipline though. Anybody seem some? I seem to be in short supply.

I would also like to thank my loyal CMSU friends for piping up in the comment section and to welcome Joann into the fold. I am fascinated and flattered that you find me interesting, and don't worry I will keep writing. Nobody has ever been able to really shut me up yet.

Reader Poll

So, lately it has occured to me that I have no idea who reads my blog. I know my roommates and my coworker, Kristy, peek in occasionally. Alan, Jim, and Margaret leave regular comments (although lately the Jimbo has been absent). Some other friends on MySpace and the bitchbarn have found me here as well, but there are others out there in cyberspace whom I know nothing about who now know a great deal about me. So, I am throwing a reader poll.

I am inviting all of my readers to leave a comment introducing themselves. It doesnt have to be much (name or pseudonym and city) or it can be a nice long bio or blog link or web page link. Also feel free to share what you like about my blog or what you would like to see more of, I guess you can even tell me what you hate (I probably won't respond to the things you hate because this is my blog and if you don't like it, you don't have to read it). If you do leave comments about what you like, I may try to include more of it. What I am looking for is an idea of how many people take a look into my life and how often they do so.

The fact that I might have some sort of public is shocking to me. I can kind of understand why some of my friends might read this, but it is hard for me to grasp the concept that there might be something in here for total strangers. Which is why I am so curious. Please, please take a second and say hi (like I said, name and city would be great and anything more would be AWESOME!). Thank you so much in advance.

Things to ponder regarding netflix

If netflix sends me a movie from California, it takes the better part of four days to make the journey. When I send a netflix movie back to California (for real, instead of cheating and slipping it into a Chicago-Netflix sleeve I have lying around the house--after finding it after I had lost it and sent two movies back in one sleeve), it gets there in two freaking days. Is it the time change? Is that what makes it move faster that direction? Does it literally lose two days instead of just two hours like the rest of us? I mean, seriously?

If I could live without my netflix, things like this might make me swear off it for good. But we all know that is never going to happen. I am shaking my fist angrily at their big red envelopes. Now I am going to check my queue to see what lies they are going to tell me about when the next disc of West Wing Season 6 is going to arrive (or apocryphal season 2, the one where the President breaks Leo's heart--literally and figuratively because this is TV and we can do that here).

Also, apparently my scary recall of Sorkin TV series episodes and factoids freaks people out. Specifically it freaks Alan out, but he lives with Sherman so perhaps I can go with the argument, "what the fuck does he know anyway?" Did I mention Alan likes to get name-checked in blogs. Name check that Alan.

P.S. I am not as angry at Alan as the aforementioned sentences may lead you to believe, and Alan is the most likely to know that.

P.S. Part II: Is it odd that the blog spell check does not recognize the word blog?