Hat

Dec. 27th, 2007 10:22 pm
jookitcz: (Default)
The highest moment of the Edmonton trip?  At my aunt's house, opening presents.  My ten-year old cousin gave my brother a green-brown camouflage patterned tuque (a winter hat, for my Americans, this one was fleece).  He unwrapped it, held it up, and grinned, thanking her.  "This will help me hide in the snow for sure!" he said. 

What can I say?  He's much funnier than I am.

Gwah.

Jan. 8th, 2007 10:22 pm
jookitcz: (Default)
This was my last night at home for what will be a while, and I made dinner.  The set-up unfolded thusly--I prepared everything for seafood alfredo, but postponed the actually cooking until my mom got home from the gym.  Dad was home early for once, Keegan had been home since three, and so on. 

She arrives, we eat, and at the end of the meal when we're discussing dishes and clean-up and dinner making duties, when Keegan complains about eating so late in the day.

Keegan:  What I don't understand, is why it took Jessie so long to make dinner.
Jessie:  Waiting for mom.  It's polite to wait for family, you know?  And why is it a big deal, anyway?
Keegan:  I was hungry!
Dad:  What... don't you know how to operate a can opener?
Keegan: (pause, looks at me and Mom with a grin)  Why would I want to operate a can opener when there's someone to open the can for me?

There were face-palms all around, except for Keegan, who just looked pleased with himself.  Oy vey. 


I'm leaving tomorrow for Las Vegas.  I'm a little scared, I feel bad for leaving my parents a week early, I'm intimidated by my courseload for next semester, I'm stressed over settling back into my dorm again in a week.  In other words, Vacation has dissipated from my head.  I'm hoping it's a temporary thing; I still have another week!

Snippets

Jun. 29th, 2006 07:25 pm
jookitcz: (Default)
Keegan: Ah, would you look at that.  They opened a fireworks stand right next to the gas station.

Jessie:  Clever boys.  Isn't that asking for disaster?

Keegan:  In this weather, yeah.  Man, how funny.

Jessie:  And they stand around the fireworks outside, smoking the cigarettes they've bought at the gas station store, and no one sees what's coming...

Later...

Keegan:  You know those flies, that look kinda like bees but aren't?  The shiny ones?  It's almost like they want to--like they're trying to be bees.  Like they're... wannabees.
jookitcz: (Default)
(while we're washing dishes)

Keegan: "You should have seen me catch the dragonfly, though. I wasn't even wearing my glasses. I was like, 'Dragonfly... you're toast.' Ah... acetone. Special purpose thinner, cleaner, and remover--of life."

I laugh.

Keegan: "See, this is why I have no normal friends."

Me: "Because you killed them all with acetone?"

Keegan: "Yeah."

Me: (short pause) "Keeg, I hate to kill your dream, but bugs are not really normal friends."
jookitcz: (Default)
I really like working.

This occurred to me earlier today, when I was straightening shelves of shoes. I graduated today, from straightening and observing to straightening and greeting customers (under the eye of my manager, who would take over after "Hello, how are you?" since I can't actually do anything useful yet). Payless really seems to like eeeasing you into the job. I was smiling, because you're supposed to smile at customers and because my head is a pretty amusing place when it isn't given something to think seriously about, and maybe--just maaaybe dancing a little bit. Because they play music in the store. So I was the amazing dancing shoe straightener.

But I liked it. There is a place in my head that makes things seem important. Yes, this is just a shoe store. But it's going to be The shoe store, or, as one training video phrased the Company Vision, "...to be one of the top five footwear retail outlets in the country."

I believe in that vision. No, I know it's just selling shoes. But dammit, if I'm going to sell shoes, I'm going to sell shoes well. I mean, all I'm in charge of doing is being cheerful, helpful, respectful, and making things look nice. I like all of those things, and I have a unreasoning underlying competitive drive, to boot. They will PH34R me, because I will be the cheeriest, helpfullest, most aesthetically creative associate born to mankind.

It wasn't until halfway through the drive home that I remembered that I also made $25 on my three hour shift. Unimportant details.


Dinner tonight:

We had hamburgers, and my brother had a friend over to work on a school science project. When he passed the pickles to her (because being a boy, he wasn't willing to put down his burger), tomato blood dripped. Mother scolded, amusedly. He defended himself, "It is impossible for any human being to pass pickles, eat a hamburger, and not drip."

I laughed, and monologued: "Ha. Unless you're one of the X-Men. Oh, but think about it--wouldn't that be the lamest superpower ever? Not dripping from a burger while passing pickles? You maybe mutated... ridges, along your arms, that would channel the juices down from your hands and off the elbows. You'd be called, 'Burger Pickle-Passer Man.' Friends would say, 'Man, that's such a lame superpower.' And you'd just look sad and say, 'I know.'"

My brother didn't laugh. But there is a trick to it, as long as the conversation is mostly between two people. After telling a lame, horrible joke, you must keep your eyes fixed on the other person. And smirk a little bit. And just wait. Because finally, when he couldn't help thinking about it, my brother broke down and cracked up.

Victory.

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