2004-09-01 - 2:41 a.m.
Here are a series of fairly random entries that I haven't had time to put up yet... eventually I will write about my fabulous Vegas trip, but not quite yet...
There was an article about a home invasion in today's paper which included the paragraph:
"The suspect was spotted in the Ellesmere Rd. area after the assault yesterday, but police wouldn't provide further details except to warn the public he could be carrying duct tape as well as restraining devices and that they should not approach him."
Which somehow makes it sound like the duct tape is the really dangerous thing... weird.
This weekend my housemates and I were pondering dressing up as devilish cheerleaders for halloween, and spent some time drawing out possible logos for our cheerleader sweaters on a scrap of paper from my bag as we sat at the local coffee-shop.
This morning I was sitting in the Starbucks near my work and decided I needed to make a list of everything I have to get done for my trip this coming weekend. So I fished out a piece of paper and considered my list, and it was only when I looked up to find the woman at the next table looking at me oddly that I realised that our drawings were on the other side of the piece of paper I was using, and that I had been flashing what must have looked like mad satanic scribbles at the nearby tables.
I tried to buy a tweed jacket for work at Old Navy this weekend, a task which proved unexpectedly complicated. The jacket was on a rack marked sale, but its tag wasn't marked down, and I started to feel very guilty for putting the girl at the cash-desk through the hell that was trying to get an answer on whether it was or wasn't on sale. She was talking to someone out on the floor through her headset - "Yeah, I need to know, are the tweed blazers on sale? The tweed. The tweed *blazers*. No. No. No, the ones up near the front. No, not the red ones, the *tweed* ones. What colour are they? They're *tweed* coloured - you know, sort of brown and flecky. Look, I'm just going to read you the inventory number. OK? What do you mean, what size? No, I don't need the jacket, I just need to know if they're on sale or not. *No*, I don't need you to bring them up to the front. I just need to know, are they on sale? *NO*, don't bring it over, just *tell* me, is there a sign, on the rack where they're hanging, that says that they're on sale?!"
Eventually one of the other girls at the counter said grimly "Look, I'm just going to go and check it out for you, OK?".
Sadly, the one I had picked out had been hung on the wrong rack, wasn't on sale, and was thus out of my price-range. The cashier probably went home and stuck pins in a doll with my face painted on it.
