Usually, Target has some incredible clearance deals.
Usually.
I was doing an interview along with my boss today for an open design position, and the woman applying was showing off some of her previous work. One of her projects was an iPhone app called Bluelight. It sends automatic messages to friends and family if you don’t check in with it by a designated time. Basically, you’re supposed to use it for dates and such so someone’s alerted if you don’t make it home afterward, in case something bad happened.
It totally reminded me of a past experience of mine, so I decided to share with everyone the story of the time I was out on a date with a girl and before getting in my car she made sure to take a picture of my license plate and send it to her brother so the authorities could track me down if anything happened to her.
Now I’m pretty sure my boss thinks I’m a total creep.
I was checking chicagotribune.com this morning, and this is what popped up.
After today’s game, I have a feeling that the only reason those Bears fans are so happy is because of the development of new antidepressants.
I finally caved last week and bought that Apple 24” LED Cinema Display that I’ve been wanting since forever. Using an old HP monitor for my Mac Mini has always made me feel a little dead inside.
Apple displays are pretty pricey, but at 25% off refurbished from the online Apple Store it was just a little less pretty pricey enough for me go for. Sure, it wasn’t exactly brand new, but I didn’t mind screwing all that for some savings. So at 2am on Wednesday morning, I clicked away $600.
And by Saturday morning, it was at my front door. I pulled it out of the box, plugged it in and drooled at it’s beauty. It was magnificent.
At least it was for two hours. Then the right side went black and stayed that way.
My Apple was a lemon.
I brought it in to the local Apple Store the next day and the Apple Genius agreed that the thing was total crap. He offered to give me a brand new display to replace it. Brand new. A pretty good deal considering mine was refurbished. Unfortunately, after a trip to the back room, he discovered they didn’t actually have any. He told me to check in the next day when they got in their weekly shipment.
So the next day I lugged my display in once again and met with another Apple Genius too see about my exchange. After waiting 20 minutes, he came back and said they still couldn’t find a 24” one. So he asked me if it was alright if they gave me a 27” instead at no additional cost.
Fuck yeah, that would be alright.
So I waited 20 more minutes while they did God-knows-what in the back room, my insides giggling like a schoolgirl the whole time. Finally he walked through the backroom door, huge box in hand.
A box for a 24” Apple Display.
Who knew getting three inches less could be so disappointing.
But hey, I did get a brand new display for refurbished price. I should happy. I really am. But I can’t help but dream about what could have been.
I’m not much for playing sports. I have an unproductive mix of ultra-competitiveness and lack of coordination that is very detrimental to any attempts athletic activity. An intense desire to win and a complete inability to do so rarely has a happy ending.
I can’t throw or catch a football. I tend to inadvertently jump while swinging a baseball bat. I can dribble a basketball fine, as long as I’m not moving.
But I’ve finally found a sport I think I can get into. Whirlyball. If you’re unfamiliar with the game, it’s kind of a mixture of lacrosse and basketball.
But with bumper cars.
It turns out that having no coordination is just fine when you’re in a bumper car, because no one else has any either.
I played it for the first time last Saturday for my friend Raynel’s birthday. It’s pretty fun stuff. Anything involving ramming other people from behind usually is.
I tried to take some pictures while playing, but didn’t really end up with any good shots. Photography is pretty hard when you’re trying to steer. Sure, you may be only going 2mph, but when you get rear-ended, a viewfinder to the face doesn’t feel too good. And the camera strap around my neck kept getting caught up in the steering pole. A couple of times I thought I’d end up like David Carradine, except in a bumper car instead of a Bangkok closet.
I’d love to do it again sometime. If there’s nine other people out there who wants to try their hand at competitive bumper car action and have $20 bucks to spare, let me know. I just hope someone else decides to take the pictures.
Yesterday, while standing guard over Vimie’s purse as she tried on a shirt at the North Face outlet, I passed the time by watching the greeter giving happy hellos to people entering the store. As new customers walked through the door, she’d light up with a wide grin and a cheery, “Welcome to North Face!” The shoppers would walk on by, and with no reason to maintain a festive facade, her face would slowly sink into a sullen state of quiet despair. All traces of joy melted away as her eyes trailed off into nothingness. A new set of customers would enter and she’d concoct another bright smile as the entire cycle repeated.
I don’t know what was sadder, seeing her endless transition from fabricated elation to genuine gloom, or how incredibly adorable I found it to be.
Who knew misery was one of my turn-ons.