I seeeeee you.

I'm supposed to wear glasses. Did you guys (well, the one person who reads this once in a great while) know that?

I hardly ever have them on when I'm out in public, because I have this fear that they make me look extremely dorky... and like the quintessential librarian. So, most of the time, they stay in my car... where I'm required by law to wear them. (Because my license says so).

Recently, though, I've decided that I may need to change my glasses-wearing habits. Because I'm pretty sure I've been ignoring people.

A few weeks ago, Rene and Josh stopped by to visit me at work, and I looked right at them, gave a little smile, then totally walked away without saying a single word to them, because I had no idea who they were. All I saw were two blob faces on two guy bodies, and I smiled to be polite. Luckily, they're awesome, and they followed me up the stairs, probably thinking to themselves, "Whoa, when did Jamie become such a snob?"

Then today, on my way into work, some dude working with the landscape company in the garden gave me a big wave. I grinned and waved back, but I have no freaking idea who that guy was. One of my co-workers saw the whole thing and asked if I knew him... to which I had to (embarassingly) reply that I had no clue because I couldn't actually see his face. He could have been some long-lost friend from school... or he could have just been trying to tell me to watch out for a truck that was about to back into me... (That's the other problem. A lot of times, I'm kind of oblivious to my surroundings. I have pretty much the worst observation skills ever).

So here's the thing: If you've seen me any time in the past, oh, 10 years or so, and I haven't indicated that I recognized you, it's not because I'm snubbing you, I swear. It's because I can't actually SEE you.

I tried wearing the glasses yesterday, and two people commented on them. One of my co-workers said, "You wear glasses??" And then a patron told me that I looked very librarian-ish. It didn't exactly sound like a compliment. =P

*Sigh*

I think I'm just going to have to get over my self-consciousness and put the stupid things on once in awhile.

Speaking of home (which is supposed to be the NaBloPoMo theme for this month, and which I've been completely ignoring), I'm totally back on my getting-rid-of-everything-I-possibly-can kick. Having clutter is driving me up the wall, so I've started tossing things out. Yesterday it was one of those hideous long stand-up mirrors. It's been broken for about three years, and in all that time I haven't bothered to replace it, so I finally did this weekend. Now I have a pretty (and cheap) mirror in a white frame hanging on the wall instead.

I also managed to toss out some old VHS tapes. Because I'm pretty sure I'm going to buy a Playstation 3... that way I can play BlueRays, DVD's, AND video games.

Anyway... my next project? Books. This is a hard one for me because (and this is probably fairly obvious, given my profession) I love books. So getting rid of them is incredibly hard for me. And I always have a feeling that even though I haven't read a certain book in years, the minute I find a new home for it is the minute I'm going to want/need to read it.

Ugh.

Wish me luck.

Summer fun

Oy.

I love summer to itty bitty pieces, but it's totally kicking my butt. After today's trips to two playgrounds, Dairy Queen, and the lake, I am so very ready for an early bedtime.

And possibly a strong drink.

Porkin'

A word to the wise:

If you happen to have a stomach that is notorious for not being very accepting of new foods, it probably isn't the greatest idea to eat a pulled pork sandwich being sold by a street vendor during Bike Week. Just a thought.

Aside from the fact that my tummy is not thanking me right now, having lunch outside of the library with a group of my co-workers, while a very loud oldies band played on a stage directly in front of us, was exactly what I needed today. I've been missing out on Friday lunches with my sisters, and while this wasn't exactly the same, it was really nice.

Bring on the weekend.

Two-for-one

There isn't much that would compel me to write two blogs in one day... however, this just couldn't be left unsaid:


Holy Overabundance of Motorcycle Hotties, Batman!


I'm tellin' ya... if I didn't have an adorable boyfriend who I completely adore, some poor biker would probably find himself under attack.

*Drool*

Bikers, baby

We are smack dab in the middle of Bike Week here, and while it annoys the heck out of most of the area residents, I kind of love it. The constant rumble, the new and interesting faces that pop into the library every so often, the traffic back-ups... well, ok... I don't love EVERYTHING about Bike Week.

I think I just really like the idea that for one week out of the year, the place where I grew up is a popular tourist attraction. Because the rest of the year? Not so much.

Besides that, my little man is a lover of all things motorcycle, so having them all over the place is tres, tres exciting for him.

A few years ago, around Bike Week, I went on a couple of dates with a guy who was doing some of the work on our new library addition. I'm not sure it was completely kosher, and in hindsight, I'm not sure what I was thinking going out with a guy who wore a hard hat with a highly visible "Crotch Cannibal" sticker on it, but he was cute and I was young and single, so hey... why the heck not?

Anyway, he had two motorcycles; one sportsbike and one cruiser (or whatever those bigger hogs are called), and one of our dates consisted of him taking me out for a ride on the sportsbike. Without a helmet. (Yes, yes, I KNOW how dangerous that was, and no, I've never done it since). But oh man, was that exhilerating.

Shaws' Guy had a Ducati. And another one of my exes had a bike. (Apparently I'm attracted to the biker boys). However, Mr. Krutchy has nothing of the sort, and probably never WILL, so it looks like I am motorcycle-less this year... unless I get a license of my own.

Hmmmm...

Bare bones

There were bones (bones!) in my tuna fish sandwich yesterday. And they looked like human baby teeth. So, obviously I retired THAT sandwich to the garbage can immediately and went upstairs to tell my co-workers about it. One of them (very helpfully, I might add) said, "Maybe they were rat teeth."

Ew. Just... ew.

She also wanted me to go back to the trash can and dig out the hard toothy-looking things. I'm pretty sure her idea was to send them to the tuna company or something, but 1. There was no way I was going digging through the trash, and 2. What would be the point? All the free tuna fish I could eat? There's no way I'm going NEAR that stuff for at least 6 months.

Rat teeth... yick.