Monday blues
Monday didn't start out so bad. But then it suddenly plummeted. I'm sick of pretending to be stupid to soothe people's egos. I shouldn't have to do that. I have got to start looking for a new job, although I won't be able to leave until next year. Oh well. One day at a time.
On that note, maybe I don't have to pretend. Yesterday, I locked myself in my own apartment. It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd locked myself out, but no. I possess a degree of stupidity far more developed than that. I was trapped in the little receiving area, if you will, between the main front door, and the door leading to the apartments. See, our apartment is on the top/third floor. On the second floor are two doors - the inner door, an easy turn-the-key-in-the-doorknob affair, and the bigger, meaner main door, which requires a special key to open or close. Before one gets to the main door, there is a small, 3x5-foot area, which is where I was when I realized I'd left my keys upstairs. Oh, no big deal, I thought, I'll just run upstairs and get it. It'll be an extra five minutes but I've got time. Unfortunately, I'd only managed to pivot when my left arm slammed the door after me in effect eliminating entry or exit. I calmly examined my purse in the hopes of there being an extra key, but of course I haven't had one made. I paused for five minutes to laugh at myself, until I realized that the people outside could see me because the main door is made of glass reinforced with squiggly iron. I thought I'd wait it out until my sister takes the trash out, which could be at 10 pm or the next morning. I took out a pen from my purse in the hopes of discovering a hidden talent for opening doors with a spring, but I didn't want to destroy the pen. So I thought I'd write a message, using the undestroyed pen, that I could slip under the door to the people in the car outside to ring the doorbell, but it seemed too cheesy. Finally, I started banging the inner door against its frame, hoping to make enough noise to get my sister to come down and investigate. The funny thing was, throughout the whole thing, I never shouted out a hello or a help. I just kept banging the door, like a desperate mime. After about ten minutes, my downstairs neighbor came to my rescue and while flashing him a sheepish grin, I swore to myself I would never ever again curse him (in my mind, of course) for not taking in the mail.
This weekend we went to see Pirates of the Caribbean, featuring the wonderful endearing Johnny Depp whose performance was a scene-stealer. After the movie, we had lots of time left, so we headed over to the Sam Ash music stores and oggled the pianos. My sister got a couple of Christian rock fakebooks, and I found a wonderful little thing called The Acoustic Guitar White Pages, a stand for my guitar, and some picks. Some of the songs in the tab collection were ones I'd tried to play when I got my first guitar in high school, and I was delighted to find Jeff Buckley's Lover, You Should Have Come Over and that I-learned-the-truth-at-seventeen song.
In sports-related events, I watched the Little League World Series championship game yesterday. It's way better than watching the grown-ups and their super serious games. I guess it's different when it's not a matter of livelihood. The team from Japan won against the team from Florida 10-1. When the little Japanese kids ran to bow to the Japanese God of Baseball, it was so beautiful I wish I could take a picture. You know how Amelie collected all these sort of heart-wrenching, inexplicably hopeful, joyous clips? A clip of those kids running to the god of baseball should be there.
{Almondy Many, Poundsign}
Monday didn't start out so bad. But then it suddenly plummeted. I'm sick of pretending to be stupid to soothe people's egos. I shouldn't have to do that. I have got to start looking for a new job, although I won't be able to leave until next year. Oh well. One day at a time.
On that note, maybe I don't have to pretend. Yesterday, I locked myself in my own apartment. It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd locked myself out, but no. I possess a degree of stupidity far more developed than that. I was trapped in the little receiving area, if you will, between the main front door, and the door leading to the apartments. See, our apartment is on the top/third floor. On the second floor are two doors - the inner door, an easy turn-the-key-in-the-doorknob affair, and the bigger, meaner main door, which requires a special key to open or close. Before one gets to the main door, there is a small, 3x5-foot area, which is where I was when I realized I'd left my keys upstairs. Oh, no big deal, I thought, I'll just run upstairs and get it. It'll be an extra five minutes but I've got time. Unfortunately, I'd only managed to pivot when my left arm slammed the door after me in effect eliminating entry or exit. I calmly examined my purse in the hopes of there being an extra key, but of course I haven't had one made. I paused for five minutes to laugh at myself, until I realized that the people outside could see me because the main door is made of glass reinforced with squiggly iron. I thought I'd wait it out until my sister takes the trash out, which could be at 10 pm or the next morning. I took out a pen from my purse in the hopes of discovering a hidden talent for opening doors with a spring, but I didn't want to destroy the pen. So I thought I'd write a message, using the undestroyed pen, that I could slip under the door to the people in the car outside to ring the doorbell, but it seemed too cheesy. Finally, I started banging the inner door against its frame, hoping to make enough noise to get my sister to come down and investigate. The funny thing was, throughout the whole thing, I never shouted out a hello or a help. I just kept banging the door, like a desperate mime. After about ten minutes, my downstairs neighbor came to my rescue and while flashing him a sheepish grin, I swore to myself I would never ever again curse him (in my mind, of course) for not taking in the mail.
This weekend we went to see Pirates of the Caribbean, featuring the wonderful endearing Johnny Depp whose performance was a scene-stealer. After the movie, we had lots of time left, so we headed over to the Sam Ash music stores and oggled the pianos. My sister got a couple of Christian rock fakebooks, and I found a wonderful little thing called The Acoustic Guitar White Pages, a stand for my guitar, and some picks. Some of the songs in the tab collection were ones I'd tried to play when I got my first guitar in high school, and I was delighted to find Jeff Buckley's Lover, You Should Have Come Over and that I-learned-the-truth-at-seventeen song.
In sports-related events, I watched the Little League World Series championship game yesterday. It's way better than watching the grown-ups and their super serious games. I guess it's different when it's not a matter of livelihood. The team from Japan won against the team from Florida 10-1. When the little Japanese kids ran to bow to the Japanese God of Baseball, it was so beautiful I wish I could take a picture. You know how Amelie collected all these sort of heart-wrenching, inexplicably hopeful, joyous clips? A clip of those kids running to the god of baseball should be there.
{Almondy Many, Poundsign}
