Wrangle up some cattles.

Last year at Spirit, I sold Halloween costumes to Minus the Bear. They had a band/company credit card.

Yesterday, I sold Halloween costumes to this band:


Every Avenue

They played the Sunshine with All Time Low on Monday night. The only reason I know who they are was because I knew they had to be in a band and when I checked an ID, it was from Michigan. Internet stalkage and process of elimination allowed me to discover that I did, in fact, sell merchandise to a power pop band with 162,000 friends on myspace.

And today, I sold this wig:


To this man:

Keith Jardine

Which is apparently a big deal?


He was nicer than this.

Maria cannot stop laughing at Spencer's flesh beard.

Chuck Norris doesn't grow up.

Ended up getting massively upset over working this weekend, after having to miss a haunted corn maize, the zoo, and a speech from the democratic nominee for President. Sad, SAD lady writing this blog.

Work on Friday was nice, I've coming to realize I enjoy a good bluegrass band every now and then. Spirit was ridiculous on Saturday, just wall-to-wall people. After five hours of retailing, I managed the El Rey for Django Fest, which actually proved to be problematic. European musicians don't understand the basic concept that actually they need to pay for alcohol and not steal inventory out of coolers. Also, the bar was upstairs. I probably staired it about 50 times. Cavs are still burning as I type. And finally, I couldn't get the day off from Spirit on Sunday. Despite my boyfriend's pleas that I just not go to work, I was there; groggy and disenchanted. As soon as I got off from there, I headed up to the East Mountains for Kyle's birthday celebration with his family. We had a camp fire outside, and while enchanting, it made for a late night and I am dearly paying for it this morning. But, you know, it's the least I can do; lose a little sleep over my boyfriend's birthday. (He got these for his birthday. I bought these.)

It's just been a while since I had some good old fashioned time off. It's really starting to wear on me. I'm sure most people I know will attest to the fact that I have not been pleasant these past few weeks. But, the end is near. I only have 3 more shifts at Spirit: today, tomorrow and Thursday. After that, only a week more of office work. It worked out that I'll be treating myself to a small scale vacation soon after, as the Anderbenmans and I are going to Tempe for B-Folds on Veteran's Day (no finer way than celebrating our soldiers than listening to "Army"). And after that... nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I can't decide whether or not I like the light at the end of the tunnel. It's there, I see it, but it's really scary; the thought of not having a job. Like I said, I'll still be getting paid until January and if I really must, I can file for unemployment. But I feel like there's too many question marks, too many what if's, and it makes me very anxious, especially given the status of the economy right now. I can't get a job. I've applied for probably 20 positions, most of which I'm qualified for, and I can't even get a call back. It's frustrating and it makes me feel helpless. I don't like being here, in limbo. I hate you, limbo.

Trying hard to be optimistic. I know this'll all work out and everything will fall into place soon. I'm exploring lots of options about possible certifications I could get, mostly in counseling/social work. But, being an adult doesn't feel all that rewarding right now.

Maybe Natalie Portman and Rashida Jones are right. Puppies.

Newborn's are slippery.

This time in October is freaking birthday time. Maria's is today, Kyle's is Wednesday, Stancie's is next Monday and my dad's is next Wednesday. The moral of the story is January is a popular time to copulate.

And on that note, Hey, roommate, Happy Freaking Birthday!


(Times Square, December 2007)

Maria's in Vegas. It's 9:38 in the morning and she's probably already drunk. She's a champ.

Anyway, I tried to find old school pictures of the two of us, from the Redondo days, and I found this priceless gem:


(Retzen's kitchen, 2002)

Ah, Spankette days. When me, Emily and Maria found no better excuse to sneak into over 21 shows than to dress alike and dance around. Look how long Emily's hair was! And how bad mine was! I miss you, blue hair. But I do not miss the ugly green you turned when you washed out.

Regardless of hair, that's a classic.

Know what I love lately?

Hockey.


Okay, okay. I know most of it looks a little bit more like this:


But, that's not the point. The point is I feel like after a month in Canada and 2 weeks in Detroit, a little of that Hockey Fan Girl blood in my DNA has trickled down. I never minded hockey before, but with the start of this season, and the influence of my cousin Marianne, I've been following the Habs pretty devotedly. Good news is they're undefeated and second in the the eastern conference right now! But, it's only just begun. And the internet tells me that the eastern conference looks really great this year. Which is no shock. I mean, really. Who plays hockey in the desert? Well, I guess Scorpions do. But, I'm learning all about the proud heritage of the Canadiens as they celebrate season number 100.


Coincidentally, (and I feel like a giant girl for bringing this up...) vintage sports apparel is really quite cute. But also quite expensive.


I lust for this as well: vintage SMU shirt. It's a Vanderpool thing. Other Vanderpool/SMU related lust: this archeology program.

But, other than wishing cable included the CBC and online shopping (browsing), I'm just tired. Really, there are bags underneath my eyes. This week will work out to being another 70 hour work week. Sometimes, office work closes early on Friday and I'm hoping that happens since I have to be at the bar at 6:00. SIGH. The good news is I got out of opening at Spirit tomorrow and don't have to be there til noon. It marks the first time I've been able to sleep in for weeks. This is me excited. There's not much there, but trust me, my brain's dancing as much as it can. This better pay off economically.

With the introduction of the D90, the cost of the D80 has dropped drastically, making it a little bit more accessible to me. However, I'm sure upcoming moves and job insecurities will keep me from spending my well-earned Seasonal retail cash on such an item, regardless of my dying creative spirit. Adulthood, you can eat it.

ONE MORE LINK. B&H's holiday closures are so cute and Jewish.

Connect the wires and plug me in.

First off, we need to talk about how freaking good this album is. It takes every piece of music every current piano-fronted indie pop band (which is an increasingly large genre, probably thanks to Mr. Folds) and shoves it down their freaking throats. It's just that strong. It's a true return to form, a CD that people who hates Ben after he dropped the Five will fall fast in love with. Songs for Silverman will always have a very special, sentimental place in my heart but that's not what this album is about. It feels like Ben had a pretty intense conversation with his producers before recording and said, "Okay. Just how much can I get away with it?". It's one of those albums that's worth buying solely because of the production, and also solely because of the song writing calibur. I heard about half of it live when I saw him in Michigan back in January, when some of the songs were still coming to be and he was at the tail end of recording. So, having the final, finished product, instead of low quality youtube videos is just phenomenal.

I'm not trying to say that is lacks emotion because any project that Ben Folds does is far, far from that. It's an intensely personal effort. One of the best things about Ben it's his comprehension of pop and what makes it good; his ability to have fun with music, but also to allow it to be painfully honest.

Anyway, really, really great CD. I'd buy it a lot.

It's October, by the way. That means one thing for me: Seasonal Retail. DUN DUN. I started working Job Number 3 at Spirit again on Friday, which means, not counting yesterday, I worked a 50 hour week last week. This week, counting yesterday, I'll work 67 hours. Similiar pattern to continue until the end of the month. So, if I'm absent, please forgive me. I'm probably sleeping. It's been a long, long time since I've been this busy. I'm trying to prepare myself, but I fear the worst: blind work-daze where I start having nightmares involving locking keys out of buildings and cash registers eating my face. But, I keep telling myself this is good and it'll help me build up my savings, not to mention keep me active. I must tell you, after standing for 13 hours this weekend, sitting for 8 hours today sounded mighty fine.

I'm working at the Spirit on Cutler, next to Linen's N Things. Come visit!


How on earth little Filipino man sounds exactly like Steve Perry is still a mystery. But, he does. It's freakish. Kyle, his cousin Brianna, Marky and me braved the elements on Saturday and saw Journey at the Pavilion. Completely worth it, if only to hear Neal Schon play the Star Spangled Banner to the best American pride graphics I've even seen in my life (and I've seen a lot of them). Lots of hits were sung, lots of emotional swaying was done, good Saturday night.

Lastly, I need to talk some more about Ben Folds. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! I will die happy.

You weren't chosen for a reason.

After a 5 year absense, I entered the world of retail again this week at the Spirit Halloween Superstore. Seasonal employment is perfect for me. Right now, at least. I like it okay. Everyone that I work with is awesome, but sometimes the clientel can be a little trailer.

So, stop by and see me sometime. I'd love to sell you a black afro wig or a motion-sensitive twitching mummy.