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I have two funny stories for your reading pleasure. Well, I think they're funny.

1.) This past weekend I finally purchased a new entertainment center, something I've been meaning to do for quite some time. The K-Marche was having a sale, and I found one that looked not only suitable but quite presentable. And I couldn't beat the price, $49.99, with a stick. [Sidenote: Before I continue, I would like to say this about K-mart. Yes, it's another saltine box store, much like Target and Wal-mart. Yes, it's probably pushing out local businesses, and that is a tragedy. However, their prices are almost always lower than either Target or Wal-mart, and their service, at least in my experience, is far superior. On this past occasion, I was assisted by a Housewares Associate named Michael. A Customer Service Rockstar if ever there was one.] But back to the matter at hand. I pay for my entertainment center and Michael kindly carries it to my car. I suppose that's why I didn't realize that it was nut-droppingly heavy. So, when I get home, I'm struggling just to get it out of the back seat of my car, and I'm dreading the 50 feet to my apartment door. I decided the best course of action would be to drag it by the industrial-stapled top flap (you know the giant staples that unerringly find their way into your delicate extremities?). It wasn't comfortable, and it wasn't easy, and by the time I got to the porch steps I was sweating and wheezing. But, at that moment, one of the nice young men who live on the floor above me, happened up the walk. I was saved! Or so I thought. We exchanged pleasantries -

Me: Hey.
James: Hey, how's it going?
Me: Great!
James: That looks heavy.
Me: Yeah, I think it probably weighs about 75 pounds.
James: Dude, that sucks.
[End Scene]

No offer to help. Nothing. He walks into the building without so much as a backwards glance. WTF?! Honestly, it was such a comical moment, I just had to laugh.

2.) We have a new policy at work: only senior staff members can pick up and deliver the mail. So, when the morning mail comes in, whoever is sitting at the front desk calls up to one of us, and we go down and retrieve the mail. Last week, I get the call and I go down stairs to get the mail. I'm standing there having a nice little chat with the mailcarrier while I sign for a package and he busts out with: "So, are there any hidden passageways in this building?" I told him no, or at least that I didn't know of any. "Do you think there are any secret rooms?" Again, I responded in the negative, but I was thinking that the conversation was getting a bit odd. He waits a few moments before busting out the piece de resistance: "Any buried treasure?" It was all I could do to not say, "Yar, matey, that's not for you to know."

How time flies...

And now I'm thirty. It all happened so fast. Thirty will feel strange on my tongue for a good spell, I think. Twenty-nine had a nice ring to it; it has a magical, mystical quality. You're on the border between worlds, really, and it feels like anything can happen.

The Land of Youth: Here it is still acceptable to drink until drunk and wake up with a hangover, wear all the current and most outlandish trends (2 inches of ass crack, anyone?), have nigh-unto-anonymous sex. Not to say that any of these are good things, but when you reach

The Land of Adulthood: Suddenly, the aforementioned shenanigans are accompanied by "She's too old to wear that" and "I'm too old for this" and "I would, if my knees didn't hurt so bad." At this point, I'm a little over a third of the way through my life. It's weird and sobering to think about.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not unhappy about being older. I think my thirties will be good years. But it is a bit surreal.

SERIOUS oversight

Errata, post entitled "Hello Again:"

A painfully serious oversight was brought to my attention by none other than Sister Misty. In the "Hello Again" post, under item 3, I stated that now that Ryan has left for Utah, none of my college friends remain in the Northwest. Not only does that leave out Misty and Nick, but also Jules. I have no excuse. Most sincere and deepest apologies all around. I will punish myself accordingly.

I love you guys!

Synonymous to?

Lately, I've noticed that when someone does me a solid, I can't just say "thank you." Apparently, I have to throw in a "bless you" for good measure. I don't even know what happens; it just pops out. Yesterday I said it to the cute barista who spotted me a penny for my grande Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino; a few days before that I said it to the guy who always donates whatever change is leftover from his Gift Shop purchase (I need to come up with a catchy pseudonym for him). So my question is this:Is it equally as possible to be possessed by a divine force as a demonic one?

Although, upon further reflection, I suppose that when one only says "bless you" the deity implied is uncertain. It's like short for "May _____ bless you." I could be saying "May the Goddess bless you." Or, even better, "May the Noodly Saviour bless you." There's no way to know without asking really. So, I guess that I shouldn't worry about it so much.