January 03, 2004

Sarah: The Real World: Holidays

Last week, as I spent time with visions of sugarplums dancing in my head, my thoughts took a strange turn. I started to speculate on possible reality t.v. shows with Christmas themes. The only idea that blossomed in my imagination was one show entitled "Scrooged." Yeah, I know the title was directly stolen from a Bill Murray movie. Anyway, Grinch-type people would be surprised on the street or in their workplace, a la makeover shows, and infused with the Christmas spirit. I wondered how the subjects would feel about such an ambush. Would a business exec with no time for charity and brotherly love be more embittered by such a clandestine act of surprise, or touched by the attention of others to his need for love? All considered, I'm pretty sure this show would be a flop. Maybe Fox can add it to their news program next December.

January 08, 2004

Lisa: I think he has a point

How could I not love D-Bo, when he says wacky stuff like this:

Waterfalls...they're so mesmerising - they're very weird, man. They have this water voice talking to you, "Come and jump in!" And I'm like, "No, I don't want to jump in". But it's saying, "It's so clean and nice, you'll be fine!" But I'm like, "No I won't be fine! There's rocks underneath you!"

-- David Boreanaz, quoted here.

Lisa: Far beneath the ship, the world is mourning

I believed (and was responsible for perpetuating the misconception) that Major Tom was a real astronaut, and that the David Bowie and Peter Schilling songs described a real event until about two months ago. I was sure that the existence of two songs by different artists about the same story was inexplicable if the story wasn't true. I was wrong. Unfortunately, now that I have so rudely been "brought to earth" (Ha. Ha?), I find that I wish Major Tom had been real. Hey, it was a poignant and touching story, a la The Abyss! It was a trajedy that so gripped the world that songs were written about it!

Sob. Moving on now.

January 10, 2004

Sarah: I love your funny face

Last night, Lisa and I were hanging out and trying to figure out which movie to watch. A while before our conversation, I had expressed a desire to see Party Girl. When trying to remember my suggestion, Lisa initiated the following discussion:
Lisa: What was that movie you wanted to see? Funny Girl?
Sarah: Party Girl.
Lisa: Oh yeah, that's right. But Funny Girl is a classic...
Sarah: Yeah, it is. Especially if you're a fan of Barbra.
Lisa: Oh, I was thinking of Funny Face!
[At this point in the conversation, Lisa's body language was animated to the point of having spirit fingers.]
Lisa: That's the one that goes "Isn't this the height of nonchalance? Ordering a bed at resturants!"

January 13, 2004

Lisa: Excuses

I didn't get up and exercise this morning before work, because I was still shaken up by the airplane-crash dream I had had earlier. Seriously, this was a very detailed and disturbing dream! Not to be put away lightly before going about my usual routine!

Here's what happened. I was on a plane, arguing with Will Smith because he owed me some money. The Fresh Prince was trying to pay me in some kind of international airplane money, which was like a long tape on a spool, perforated into inch-long chunks that each represented a different amount of currency from various countries. Will was showing me the spool, and trying to convince me that if I tore off the amount he owed me, I would be reimbursed in my own currency by the airline upon deplaning. At some point during this conversation, I felt a tug on the spool, looked across the aisle, and realized that the tape had come unwound, gotten tangled around a female passenger's neck, and then snaked its way out of the plane through a crack in the wall, where it had presumably come in contact with a burning airplane part of some kind (an engine?). The tape was on fire AND was strangling this poor woman in a grotesque and overly prolonged manner while the surrounding passengers sort of tugged on the tape ineffectually.

Anyway, there was more violence, and then some crashing, and scooting along the runway on a broken piece of airplane wing, and a taxi ride to an apartment in India that I had no memory of living in. How could anyone exercise after that?

January 16, 2004

Sarah: Is that a taco, or are you just happy to see me?

So, this morning was ultra-bizzarre. I recently got a job, and my second day was today. I needed to be at work at seven, and so I set my alarm for 5:45 for plenty of alarm-snoozing time. In the wee hours of the morning, I had a very vivid dream where I worked next door to a Taco Bell. I went to this fast food franchise around 8 pm at the start of my shift to get some Diet Coke, and the guy working there (there was only one employee) was surprisingly attractive. Allow me to clarify. This guy was actually not very good looking. He was fine, not grotesque or anything, but I knew that he was SUPPOSED to be hot. So, whatever, I had a dream-crush on him. And I somehow got to Taco Bell without my wallet, so I had to go back to work, get money, and return to Taco Bell. When I came back, there were at least three Taco artists on staff, and the cup I was given for my Diet Coke, aka Sweet Nectar of Life, was bigger than my head. Before I could fill up my cup, I was woken up by my alarm.
Oh Holy Crap!!
My clock said 8:00. I WAS AN HOUR LATE FOR WORK! I immediately went into panic mode. How could this happen?! I glanced over at my roommate's alarm, and it said 6:47. Inexplicable!! I felt like I was in a twilight zone. I checked the time on my cell phone, because my watch died two days ago, and it agreed with my roommate's clock. I wasn't late... yet.
After I hurried and got dressed and wet down my hair (it froze in the 9 degree weather), I got to work. They told me to wait for a minute, and then informed me that they didn't really have anything for me to do, so I should come back to work next week, when they'd have "a bunch of new projects."
At this point, I was completely frazzled. My alarm clock had decieved me, I woke up needlessly early, and it's not very often that you meet a decent guy at Taco Bell! This is not a good start to my weekend.

Lisa: No Experience Necessary

I've been messing around (but looking very important and productive) on Zazzle, designing dorky t-shirts. I highly recommend creating some of your own, especially if you are more creative and talented/less dorky than me. If you want to see the Lisa originals, keep your expectations low and click on the picture below:

I recommend the ladies' babydoll, in blue.

Once your design is done, you can order any shirt style and color that you want. Now go! Create!

January 20, 2004

Lisa: Perhaps more sleep is in order.

Today is a blech day. I don't know what is behind this blechiness, and therefore I don't know how to fix it. Should I self-medicate with delicious, comforting food (or Diet Coke)? Should I buy the Alias Season 2 DVDs and enjoy the associated temporary capitalistic euphoria? Put my nose to the grindstone and appreciate the sense of accomplishment that comes with increased productivity? (HA!)

I feel like complaining. I want to rant about people who have irritated me. Unfortunately, a few people from my real life know about (and therefore could potentially read) this website. I certainly wouldn't want anyone I know to find something about themselves and then have to hate me, Harriet-the-Spy-style.

It doesn't help that today after work I have to go to the library for my internship. I mean, it should be fun (as fun as unpaid labor can be), but I just want to go home, put on pajamas, and watch Buffy with Blake. And I haven't even gotten to try out the new sewing machine I got for Christmas! At least tomorrow I get to go to art class. (singing) Art class! (/singing)

I think I'm going to use the small burst of positive energy I got from remembering about art class tomorrow to head down to the cafeteria. Luckily, they sell sweet life-giving nectar in giant 32 oz. cups.

January 21, 2004

Sarah: Come On, Get Happy

Many salutations are considered acceptable in the English language, but I would like to propose that one be banned. The phrase "You have a good day, now" is utterly unacceptable. You! Have a good day! NOW! I just feel like it's a little too bossy for a good natured farewell. I don't have a problem with the phrase "have a good day," but I think this greeting should stay vague to avoid sounding like an attack. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!

Sarah: Britney Ain't Got Nothing On Me!

Instant Message Conversation with my friend/Lisa's co-worker G.

Sarah: So, how's your kid?
G: He's good. He's a dancing machine. I totally caught him dancing and watching his reflection in a glass door. He acted all sheepish when he saw me watching.
Sarah: Hee. That's so cute!!
G: He looked like I felt the time my dad walked in on me singing Madonna songs into my hairbrush.
Sarah: So, the story about him and your Madonna fiasco reminded me of when i was little. I would sing and dance around my bedroom, but didn't like anyone watching me. One time Lisa and our brother Dave snuck up on me doing my artistic rendition of the original work "Please, Mom and Dad, don't get a divoooorce..." Don't know why. The marriage wasn't on the rocks or anything...
G: Hee! I think kids just worry about that stuff for some reason.

January 24, 2004

Lisa: I can tell this is going to rock.

While I was working on the information desk today, I looked up a few things for myself, too:

Checked out:
Run Lola, Run

Put on hold:
All About Eve
The Garden of the Finzi-Continis
Living in Oblivion
Lord Peter: a collection of all the Lord Peter Wimsey stories
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: the album

The Pixies: Bossanova
The Best of Morissey
Party Girl

My list doesn't stand a chance--I think this is the best job ever.

January 27, 2004

Lisa: How can it be crass if it's written on premium 60 lb. ecru paper with a fountain pen?

I really want this set of old-school library lending cards and pockets that say "From the Personal Library of..." on them, from Levenger. They even come with a date stamp, a "Reference Only: Does Not Circulate" stamp, and a pencil, all in a little cherrywood box. (Hey, isn't Valentine's Day coming up? And isn't Valentine's day all about consumerist pressures on people in relationships...?)

Anyway, I'm wondering if book-borrowers might find the whole check-out thing a little rude. I mean, if someone offered to lend you a book, but then went through the whole process of checking it out and stamping it with the date they wanted it returned, the whole gesture would seem a little less generous. On the other hand, maybe the borrowers would find the card-and-pocket system quaint and endearing. At least I can be sure it isn't as rude as asking for a Valentine's Day present.

Edited to add:
Fred Flare is offering a similar set. Don't worry, everyone, I didn't get either set for Valentine's Day, so you can still get one for me. (Phewf!)