Today at work I sat next to this young man who kept. talking. to. me. Not in a friendly way, but in a loud, mumble-mumble-mumble way while staring at my face. At first I tried to smile and give sympathetic nods every so often, but after 3 hours I just stopped making any eye contact with him whatsoever. Because if I were to pay attention to his ramblings as much as he wanted me to, I would not have been able to listen to my headset and therefore not been able to do my job well.

So. About three hours into my shift, my mumbly co-worker started to draw a picture in his notebook with a pencil. No big deal, right?

Wrong. He is left handed, which meant that his drawing hand kept almost-touching my right hand. I couldn't move said hand because my mouse was on that side of my keyboard. After furiously erasing parts of his drawing, he would energetically brush the eraser shavings off his paper and ONTO. MY. ARM.

On a normal day, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have bugged me that much. However, today was not a normal day. Today was one of those "my-OCD-flares-up-in-epic-and-hilarious-ways-when-I-have-PMS" days.

That is why when I saw him about to flick his eraser boogers into my personal computing space for the tenth time, I shot an involuntary laser-beam look of death at him. I hope it conveyed my (also spontaneous) mental warning to him, which was:

"If you do that one more time, I will definitely punch you in the neck."


No speaky?

While I'm at work, the people I call for surveys sometimes pretend they don't speak English. How do I know they're pretending? This is how:

*Ring Ring*

Them: "Hello, this is the Robinson residence."

Me: "Hi, we are doing a survey today and we'd like to include your opinions in it. Is that okay?"



When this happens, I totally want to fake them out and force them to take back their imaginary language barrier by saying something like,

"Oh no! That's too bad. We were rewarding our participants today with a $500 gift card. Well, see-ya."

It would be kind of like the old cliche technique of scaring a fake-paraplegic out of his unnecessary wheelchair by yelling "Fire!" ...but less 90's sitcom-ish.


We are.....PARAMORE!

(This post is from the archives. I wrote it, but never got around to posing it! I know, I'm weird. The concert was this past May.)

Okay, so.

I had such an amazing time at the Paramore/Relient K concert! There is seriously nothing like going to see one of your favorite bands live, and to be right there while they're singing your favorite songs. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I got goosebumps on my arms approximately 3 times. I always used to laugh when my friend Meg (Hi Meg!)would tell me about how the Celine Dion concerts she went to were "seriously a religious, out-of-body experience," but I don't laugh now! I SO get it.

Anywho. They performed a much longer set than the last time I went to see them, because last time they were opening up for No Doubt. I like No Doubt, but I don't love them. This time, however, Paramore was the headlining band - and it made such a difference. The sound quality was better, the lights were better, our seats were better (we were closer, but we were also directly behind these ginormous speakers); pretty much everything was improved.

.... Well, except for the nasty couple in front of us who kept touching tongues and taking pictures of themselves doing so. (Sick.) I tried to photobomb them each time, but I was unsuccessful.

I was even tempted to go down to the mosh pit. However, I decided against it because 1)I am old, and 2)I don't like the smell of 17 year old hipsters.

Anyways, Hailey's vocals were superb; her range has really expanded on their new album. Next time one of my favorite bands comes to town, I am SO going.

I have to.
I am addicted.
And I will get even better seats.

PS: Here's a little video I made, complete with annotations: