I’ve resorted to commentary

I’ve watched every episode of Sex and the City at least twice, maybe thrice. So, now I’m watching every episode with commentary. On a Sunday morning, 9 a.m.

“Senator John McCain had told me that when he watched that scene where Petrosky and his friends are all speaking in French and Carrie is just sitting there and the French rap music keeps getting louder, he thought ‘Bring on, Big!’ and I said ‘Okay, Mr. Senator'”

Suck it up!

Quality over quantity and content over aesthetics. Okay wait, I take that back. I want a lot of the pretty, good stuff. But you’ll have to wait for the pretty. K called my blog subpar and ugly the other day and I smiled.

I just got back from my first tree planting as a Tree Amigo.. There’s something about this green polo that makes me tingle inside. Anyway, I am really starting up an Arbor Club at our school once we come back from winter break. Look for a schoolwide tree planting sometime before June, hopefully in April or early May. I need a prospective members list.

Aside from the eco-friendly crap, I am living a fruitful life and I suppose I feel like I need to share the fruits of my labor somehow. I was listening to NPR this morning while driving to the planting and this guy said, “Sometimes, I’ll go into solitude and hide away and refill my glass. Once I come back and see the people I love, I’ll have something to share because I want to be able to give them sometime.” Okay, so that was heavily paraphrased, but the general idea behind that is what I was aiming for.

Never finished, but maybe it is better that way

Exploring the concept of expectations (by the way, this will probably all make sense come June and everyone will revel in the clairvoyance), I am expecting to finish this paper on Jane Austen’s use of names by 10:00 A.M., ideally; but rather, I’m sitting here at some bustling Starbucks clumsily trying to control my left foot as to not let it tragically slip into the puddle of spilt milk, as warned by a nice woman passerby.

Random acts of kindness are not to be undermined.

Another woman with her two cute children, her daughter is wearing an obnoxious pink ribbon in her hair and her son is grasping onto his milk, just cautioned me about the spilt milk. I’m sitting right in front of the door, not to mention under this pesky air conditioning that is blowing what feels like cold air (may I remind you it is the morning and there was fog while I was driving), when this rather husky guy, probably in his early twenties, wearing a blue apron from I am not sure where just dashed into the store to return another woman’s credit card that was left behind. She graciously thanked him and smiled and in all gratitude asked, “Thank you! Do you want some coffee?” The guy, who was just being hospitable, replied, “Oh you’re welcome, no thank you, I don’t even like coffee,” then smiled and hurried back to his job.

Man, M wasn’t kidding when she said this week was National Random Acts of Kindness week. Coincidentally, during lunch the other day with E, we were talking about America and how it is generally friendlier and more hospitable than other countries.

Misery loves company

I feel miserable. I just peeled myself out of bed after laying there for an hour thinking about how miserable I was. Thank goodness. I am cleaning and re-reading old letters, paper and electronic. Thanks JA and JT for all the cards and thoughts throughout the years. Though, I still never found out who sent the green square card postmarked from Portland, ME reading “Nothings spoils peanut butter like unrequited love. -Charlie Brown” from Magpie, titled “Just a bit of utter randomness.” The great mysteries of life.

On being recognized in public

Not that this isn’t self-absorbed or anything. When you recognize someone, do you usually try to confirm your thoughts? I mean this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for my mum hassling this baby.

I had my second sighting today while having brunch with my mum. She became preoccupied with this lady and her child next to us. While eating my deseert, I noticed the lady staring at me, then finally she asked if I worked at the Starbucks (I thought it’d be rude to say, “I’m sorry, we are not Starbucks. This is the Barnes & Noble Café. We only serve Starbucks coffee–You see we have this contract…”) at Eastridge. I looked up from my dessert, which was very good, and smiled, “Yes, yes I used to.”
“Oh, I thought you looked familiar. I used to study there, but the test is over now, thank goodness.”
“I’m glad too!”
(5 seconds elapsed)
“I mean, thank goodness your tests are over, not that you don’t go there anymore.”

I realized I wrote about the second without telling of the first. I suppose the first sighting would be at Albertsons when I wanted to get a sample of the ice cream at the Starbucks and the guy at the counter asked me if I worked at the Starbucks (I know, right?) in Barnes & Noble. Anyway, I am glad I was a memorable barista.

I think another memorable sighting was at my second yearbook camp this summer at Ida Price. Some girl in my class asked, “Aren’t you that girl that sang karaoke at St. Mary’s (California Yearbook Academy.. lame name)?” There are some good photos of that, but the files are in yearbook.

Man, am I fed up!

But isn’t “booby trap” such a funny phrase?

Why does something always come up and divert me from my smooth karmic course? Whatever! Because I am done with applications.

Ampersand is still missing but I’ve resumed a relationship with my mum, a little unwillingly, of course. Today, I finally put up “Missing Kitten” posters around the neighborhood with Jessica. It’s a strange feeling plastering posters around in public of something I’ve lost. Imagine if we did that with everything we’ve lost:

“Missing sanity! Missing happiness! Missing money! (Generous) reward, if found!”
I wonder if anyone would try to redeem the reward. So, I’ll wonder.