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Ikuei
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Name: Alyssa
Country: United States
State: Maine
Birthday: 6/14/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: Tanking, DPSing, and Evocating
Expertise: Fear my elite Suikoden skills.
Occupation: Sales
Industry: Other
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
9/19/2005
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| Some sorry son-of-a-gun at the Cantonese restaurant 3 doors down from the store had never seen a skunk before. So, when he spotted three of them in the back parking lot, he did what any of us would do with a wild animal with which we have hereuntofore no experience.
He tried to catch one in a 5 gallon plastic drum.
According to the Rent-a-Soul (Center... I meant Center) guy next door, the poor schmuck got sprayed about 5 times. Meaning, the entire plaza smells like ass. Black and white kitty ass, to be precise.
Good lord, this place reeks now.
My customers kept asking, "Is there a skunk in here?" Well duh, of course there is... we brought one in to demonstrate our air purifiers.
Johnny left early today, and Reuben and Dennis were out around 4. So, I've been stuck with 11 boxes of random crapola to put away. Needless to say, there's still 11 boxes left since I've been waiting on all the customers. Gak!
I met a guy from Alexander server today. He was asking why his S-Video connection from his PC to his (insert huge number here)-inch plasma didn't look right. Turns out he's got his resolution up in the 2000's. Eek! We had a nice chat though, and I offered him a world pass in case he ever wants to get together and game for a bit.
<3 Y'all, time to close the store.
Iky | | |
| LMAO.
Funny quiz... clicky. | | |
| I was in the middle of one of my oft-aborted attempts at lunch today at the Shack when Johnny came into the backroom and told me there was a foreign woman outside to see me. Sighing, I resolved to microwave my pasta once more and took the sales floor, ready for some German tourist to whom I'd sold a digital camera to knock my block off (for some reason... they always do). Instead, to my profound surprise I found Ekaterina (Katya), a Russian student I'd gone to high school with.
After the usual pleasantries (tinged with shock on my part, since I hadn't seen her in about 3-4 years except in passing) ((She went to college, I didn't-- I don't regret it, but that's another post entirely)) we talked a bit about where she was going to school (England for a year) and how I enjoyed the world of electronics (which I actually do). She then stated she had been going through her belongings since she was going overseas to grad school and her mom was moving out of the area. She had been tossing some old things and had found something she wanted me to have since she wouldn't have much space. It turned out to be a publication from our Creative Writing club dated 1998-1999. My (late) English teacher had compiled and bound it with one of those plastic strips that slides over the left edge of the paper. (I tried to find a picture, but came up empty... it's not the spiral ones, but the ones that leave the papers unmolested. Meh... you know what I'm talking about).
Anyway, she handed it to me and told me that my poem had always been her favorite out of the bunch. We talked about how the music program had spiraled into decline in the local school systems since the advent of "block scheduling" and how we should write a letter with about 50 signatures demanding a better system. Then, the store got a little busy and we exchanged phone numbers, email addresses, and mailing addresses.
The interesting part is, she invited me to England. She hemmed and hawed a bit (though, if you knew her, you wouldn't call it hemming and hawing... she's the "I'm not shy" shy-type) and said that since I had visited England and enjoyed it so much, I could come and visit her. Staying in London is expensive if you don't know anyone to stay with, and she could show me some of the sights. We joked, also, that the sights she would show me wouldn't be the type a tour guide would choose. Not like that, of course... she's studying economics, but not in the interest of being an economist-- she wants to get into urban planning. The part that intrigued me about the entire conversation is after we finished our conversation and I helped the few customers that had entered the store (I broke 2k in sales today, whee) I looked at the inside "cover" of the book she had given me. It said simply,
Dear Alyssa
I wonder what she was going to say? And furthermore, why didn't she say it? In any event, here's the poem that she liked so much.
Special is
the intimacy of a simple
hand laid flat against
your shoulder and the almost-felt
chest-rise of respiration as you stand,
socially legal, yet silently, one behind, in
acknowledgement.
Special is
the heat that rises, starting in
your arches, instantaneously, inexorably
to your cheeks, entitled
Blush.
Special is
the way your forearms seem to
complement each other, the inequalities of their girth
as you interlock, intertwine digits
notwithstanding.
Special is
the smell of
Dots
aftershave
hair
skin
(insert inexplicable)
as you stand
inextricably close yet publicly
acceptable, breathing in tandem,
as the scent fills your lungs chock-full
and you thirst for
more.
Special is
how movie-theater candy (or
anything else for that matter) tastes
better when eaten from
someone
else's hand.
Special is
the way everything
(isn't it so funny how)
everything microscopic, miniscule
is magnified, becoming foundations
of cornerstones of
bases of substructures
of vast kingdoms,
fiefs of vast stretches of
grass all built on the
way he holds his lower lip while
he sings or the way you feel so
incredibly, deliriously happy that it frightens
you while you're held and you only cling tighter to staunch
the flow of tears as from a
wound.
Special is
the filament plus the necessary
vaccum to create the
combustion.
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| Migraines suck. I don't get them, but I've met plenty of people that have to deal with them, and the pain is just debilitating. So, I thought this was kind of interesting.
I don't know if sticking a big magnet on the back of your head is really GOOD for you, but who knows =)
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