So allegedly, there's this incredibly attractive Welsh man who's popped into work twice already, and my coworker T is the only person who has seen him and helped him with his transactions. She keeps swearing up and down that he is the Most Perfect Man for You (me), and that he looks a bit like Paul Bettany, only, you know, with a bit more melatonin, or whatever it is that doesn't make you translucent.
Anyway, he's apparently backpacking through Mexico and had just stopped by to get guides and things, but this was over the Christmas holidays, so I highly doubt that he'll be by again. He's sort of achieved this white whale status in the shop, because everytime he's been in, I'm either not there, or on my break outside somewhere.
It's so comforting to know that everytime My Perfect Guy is around, I somehow manage to mess it up without even trying. T's hell bent on making a match, and has promised the next time he shows his face, she's calling me on the intercom to ....I don't know what exactly. What is a loon's mating call?
"Hey.....can I get you a cup of coffee? Possibly a mix tape?"
Yesterday, everything looked like a small bomb went off inside the shop but not all was lost to consumer assholism - this random guy was shelving my section without asking, and he was doing it correctly. Who am I to look a gift shelver in the mouth?
My Christmas was small and quiet and very uneventful, which I sort of needed badly after all the retail asshattery - I visited my grandmother, left her flowers, and went home to vegeterian lasagna and roast garlic chicken. Thank you to the people who sent me cards, I'm working on sending mine - I seem to have tripped up the time space continuum in my room again though, because I can't find my old address book, and most of the addresses I've got on here are outdated, but I'm sure I'll find them soon enough.
I'm getting myself a ZEN VISION W after New Year's, because Amazon had this cool deal with Audible.com for a 100 dollar off coupon, if you signed up with Audible for an account, so now I've got a year's worth of audiobooks and such waiting for me, and then I'll have a nice little media unit to store it all in.
I also got a Sephora Blockbuster Palette, and cleaned house at Tower Records' going out of Business sale (HAHAHAHAHAHAH, this is what you get for not calling me back after my interview!) and got some pretty nice cds.
Speaking of which - I managed to borrow a copy of Rob Sheffield's new book, Love is a Mixtape, and guys, I think at this point in my life, this is my new High Fidelity, because that book meant a lot to me when I was first starting college, but it's time for a new book, a new meaning (and oh, Sarah Dessen's Just Listen is also a perfect audiophile loveletter) but when you read about Rob and Renee....
here:
"Falling in love with Renee was not the kind of thing you walk away from in one piece. I had no chance. She put a hitch in my git-along. She would wake up in the middle of the night and say things like "What if Bad Bad Leroy Brown was a girl?" or "Why don't they have commercials for salt like they do for milk?" Then she would fall back to sleep, while I would lie awake and give thanks for this alien creature beside whom I rested."
and what I think of when I'm on road trips with friends and listening to music in cars:
"...sometimes I think, man, all the people I get to hear this song with, we're going to miss each other when we die. When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other."
Anyway, he's apparently backpacking through Mexico and had just stopped by to get guides and things, but this was over the Christmas holidays, so I highly doubt that he'll be by again. He's sort of achieved this white whale status in the shop, because everytime he's been in, I'm either not there, or on my break outside somewhere.
It's so comforting to know that everytime My Perfect Guy is around, I somehow manage to mess it up without even trying. T's hell bent on making a match, and has promised the next time he shows his face, she's calling me on the intercom to ....I don't know what exactly. What is a loon's mating call?
"Hey.....can I get you a cup of coffee? Possibly a mix tape?"
Yesterday, everything looked like a small bomb went off inside the shop but not all was lost to consumer assholism - this random guy was shelving my section without asking, and he was doing it correctly. Who am I to look a gift shelver in the mouth?
My Christmas was small and quiet and very uneventful, which I sort of needed badly after all the retail asshattery - I visited my grandmother, left her flowers, and went home to vegeterian lasagna and roast garlic chicken. Thank you to the people who sent me cards, I'm working on sending mine - I seem to have tripped up the time space continuum in my room again though, because I can't find my old address book, and most of the addresses I've got on here are outdated, but I'm sure I'll find them soon enough.
I'm getting myself a ZEN VISION W after New Year's, because Amazon had this cool deal with Audible.com for a 100 dollar off coupon, if you signed up with Audible for an account, so now I've got a year's worth of audiobooks and such waiting for me, and then I'll have a nice little media unit to store it all in.
I also got a Sephora Blockbuster Palette, and cleaned house at Tower Records' going out of Business sale (HAHAHAHAHAHAH, this is what you get for not calling me back after my interview!) and got some pretty nice cds.
Speaking of which - I managed to borrow a copy of Rob Sheffield's new book, Love is a Mixtape, and guys, I think at this point in my life, this is my new High Fidelity, because that book meant a lot to me when I was first starting college, but it's time for a new book, a new meaning (and oh, Sarah Dessen's Just Listen is also a perfect audiophile loveletter) but when you read about Rob and Renee....
here:
"Falling in love with Renee was not the kind of thing you walk away from in one piece. I had no chance. She put a hitch in my git-along. She would wake up in the middle of the night and say things like "What if Bad Bad Leroy Brown was a girl?" or "Why don't they have commercials for salt like they do for milk?" Then she would fall back to sleep, while I would lie awake and give thanks for this alien creature beside whom I rested."
and what I think of when I'm on road trips with friends and listening to music in cars:
"...sometimes I think, man, all the people I get to hear this song with, we're going to miss each other when we die. When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other."
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