C'est Non Un Blog

They just had this commercial on TV for a new, 24-hour pre-school channel. Who the fuck is watching the 24-hour pre-school channel at 3 in the morning? Seriously?

I just threw my cell phone at the wall. It was in my sweatshirt when I threw that at the wall.

Did I mention that I’ve been drinking tonight?

Thank god for spell check….

This was kind of surprising. But then again, not really. I tend to assimilate the words and sounds of everyone around me. A few words I use regularly now I never used to use.

Like the other day at work, when Katharine pointed out the fact that I ask questions like a Canadian. Meaning I make a statement and then let my voice raise at the end, indicating that I am actually asking a question. I do this roughly 50% of the time now. Which is a little odd, considering the fact that no one in my family does this, and no one around the area where I grew up does it either.

Where the hell did I pick it up? Well, the family of one of my dad’s friends does it. And for a while I thought it was a really frakin’ weird way to talk. And then, some day I don’t know when for reason I don’t know why, I just started asking my questions that way. Now I do it pretty regularly, and I don’t even realize I’m doing it.

I guess it makes sense that I have an indistinguishable accent. I use so much slang from so many different places that it can be hard to tell where I’ve come from. I’ve actually caught myself speaking in the accent of the person I was talking to, embarrassingly enough. Boy, do you want to catch that one before you go too far with it. But the fun thing is that so far no one in Seattle has been able to tell that I’m from out of town. Wait, is that really a good thing? When I get carded in bars I tend to get a lot of dirty looks, as if they are asking, “Is this a fake ID?”

Or as I might say, “This is a fake ID?”

[UPDATE: Oddly enough, looking at that chart again I noticed that my accent is LEAST like that of the Northeast. Which, interestingly enough, is where I am from. Hmm. How the hell did that happen?]

[UPDATE 2: What IS a Northeast accent???]

Normally I have the coldest hands and feet known to man. They are always cold. Bad circulation, I guess.

This weekend I discovered beer + cold hands = warmest hands in the bar. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone comment on how warm my hands were before. Definitely a first.

There are a lot of bums in Seattle. A LOT.

That said, they’re mostly pretty clever. Picture your typical old bum holding up the following sign, written with black magic marker on a scrap of cardboard:

“My dad was killed by a ninja. Need money to learn karate.”

Nice. My question: Where do these bums get all of these brand new magic markers? Their lines are always so clean and neat. You know they didn’t pull that out of some dumpster. You telling me that he spent his hard earned money on markers instead of booze? I think not.

Another duo of punks had another fun sign: “Trade a dollar for a dimebag.”

Just Watch.

On a bumper sticker:

“If you don’t talk to your cat about catnip…who will?”

A quick post from the 4 Aces Hampton Inn in Deadwood, SD:

I’m halfway to Seattle, chilling in my hotel room in Deadwood. The trip has been really great so far. I’ve seen lots of cool stuff. I think Mt. Rushmore park is one of my all-time favorite places ever. So far the trip has gone great, but snow is in the forcast for the West for tonight and tomorrow, so we might get snowed in, which is really freaking me out. Ah well, we’ll see what happens.

You know what? America is a really frickin’ big country. Doesn’t seem it when you fly it, but try driving it. It’s HUGE.

Well, this is it. My last night in New York. My last day in Manchester. It’s weird. I’m not freaking out right now. Of course I am still a little buzzed from going to Madison’s (mmm…Irish red. Thanks for a great night out Jeremy and Amanda!).

Tomorrow the adventure begins. It’ll be…something. Today was a last day to be last days, with us doing great with sales and Mike coming to swing the store at 3 o’clock because his plane got hit by lightning (!). I think it helped us that when he walked in the door there were two Lifestyle systems going out.

I was more in a daze though, wishing he wouldn’t look over my shoulder (which thankfully, he didn’t). I had more than enough to deal with without worrying if I was reading my script verbatum.

Everything seems to be ready. I just have to take my computer, put it in my bag and leave. Does it say anything about how big a Bose geek I am that I’m taking three stereos and three pairs of headphones with me to Seattle, and that is still only about HALF of what I own? I think so.

Driving with my dad should be fun. He doesn’t like it when anyone other than him drives. That and the fact that I speed like a demon.

Ah, what else to say? Tomorrow I start the real American dream. To die in a firey car crash like James Dean. Oh, that or to take a cross country road trip. A lot of people are very jealous.

I’m sad to leave so many DVDs at home. We’ll be together again soon, my friends. I promise.

It’s weird not to ever go to work again, not in the same place with the same people that you’ve grown to know over three years. Just weird. I’m just glad I got out in three. After four years of high school and four years of college, I’ve found that I definitely start to get the “four years itch.”

Well, goodbye East Coast. When I see you again, I’ll be two time zones away.

Going through my glove compartment to clean it out before the big trip, I discovered that I couldn’t find my current proof of insurance. I have every copy of insurance I’ve acquired since I bought the car, but just not the one that, you know, I might need. Then it dawned on me that I might have lumped it together with the big pile of bills I had been keeping for years but also didn’t really need. You know, right before I threw all of that useless paper into the trash. Which of course was burned today. Right before the big roadtrip. Great.

As Elliot from Scrubs might say: “FRICK!”