When I got to work today, I saw I had to work behind register, which I wasn’t too thrilled about, but I hadn’t been back there in a while and I was coming off of having a real weekend! Saturday AND Sunday off. So I was trying to stay positive when the lead cashier told me another thing to add to our never ending check-out spiel. A pitch to get people to buy a book at the register to donate to a child in the foster care system.
Great, I thought, no one wants to do anything at register except buy their books and leave as soon as possible. This is going to be a sad experience for me, because this is such a cool project and cool thing to donate to, and I’m going to be bummed when people get snippy about it.
Well Brooklyn, you surprised me. I stopped counting after 20 donated books tonight. People thought it was such a great idea and had a great time picking out which books to donate, picking their childhood favorites or selecting something that looked good. One guy just kept adding books to donate until all of the cash in his pocket was gone.
Another lady purposefully bought the most expensive books in the suggested donation pile because she figured no one else would buy them.
Another woman donated a book with her son, her son dutifully writing out his name and “happy reading!” on the donation tag, all while giving a dollar to the couple who had been behind her in line and ended up being a dollar short for their total and did not have a credit card with them.
I know I keep having really sappy posts lately, but this was all just so wonderful and amazing to me. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, this whole stereotype that New Yorkers are unkind is really untrue. I see it time and time again, and it keeps me on my toes.
If I could just touch your ankle, he whispers, there on the inside, above the bone—leans closer, breath of lime and pepper—I know I could make love to you. She considers this, secretly thrilled, though she wasn’t quite sure what he meant. He was good with words, words that went straight to…
Thanks to all of Steve, Katie, Ian and Andrew I am all moved in to my new place. Maybe you will get a pic or two when I finish unpacking. I might have unpacked everything yesterday except for a nap monster that attacked me and sent me on a three and a half hour voyage. The important thing to note here, is that that nap was taken in my bed. I also slept in my bed last night and a nap. This is the stuff dreams area made of.
And man! I have so much stuff! Honestly, I’m going to have to downsize a bit as it’s a bit tight in my room at present, but I’m really happy to finally have a home. Also, laundry is across the street. So eat your heart out and be jealous.
I still can’t believe it’s been since August that I haven’t had a place, and I can’t believe Steve and Katie put up with me for so long. This is all just showing me how resilient I can be and how lucky I am.
“‘Some other time certainly,’ said Jack. ’ But tonight is Guy Fawkes’ Eve, and must in common decency be celebrated to the full. Anything else would be close to treason, tasting of rank Popery - oh Lord, Stephen, I am laid by the lee again. I am so sorry.’”—Patrick O’Brian, The Truelove (via wwnorton)
“I generally think customers don’t want to be nickled and dimed.”—You can say that again. The head of retail products at Pittsburgh-based PNC Financial Services, on the news that big banks have backtracked on their plan to charge monthly debit fees. (WSJ)
HEY STEVE NIEBAUER DO YOU THINK YOU COULD HELP ME MOVE ON THE 5TH OF NOVEMBER? I know you’re in the DR, but I also know you’re checking your tumblr. I mostly just want someone to help me pick up the truck and what not since I haven’t driven in a coon’s age. That’s right, a coon’s age.
“As I was purchasing the gift that I sent to you today, a production manager from one of our other plants said to me: ‘Are your kids flaming liberals? It would seem so from the gifts you bought them.’ I replied, ‘YES, they are. I brought them up correctly!’”—my dad, in an email to me, teasing me with a mystery gift that I am now extra excited to receive.
You know what’s funny? When I ask (because I have to) people for their email address at check out, while they’re on their smart phone and tell me they don’t have email.
I’m not saying I give mine out either, but some dude is holding his iphone, mid text message and says that he doesn’t have an email address.
Also, I’m getting trained to do shelving and such (Yay! It’s so fun! And I like it!) and people literally come up to me and other people doing this kind of work and say “I need this book and it’s about white people and the cover is blue.”
“She knocked me out. I mean it. I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can.”—Holden Caulfield, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Sufjan discusses Seven Swans, the Danielson Famile, and Christianity.
“I had been out of Michigan for about three years and probably was just being sentimental, you know, looking back, surveying my life, thinking about things, thinking about my family, thinking about the geography of Michigan, and kind of missing it in a way, and mythologizing it.”
“I want to be your wingman! Though, I think I would be the worst wingman ever. I’d be like, ‘Hey, this is Sam. She’s awesome. If she were playing in Oregon Trail, she’d shoot many bear and be able to carry at least 100 pounds back to the wagon.’”— infinitezest