Thirteen reasons I can't say my life isn't interesting
1. I got locked in American Vintage the other day, an over-priced thrift store on Ventura Blvd. I was in the back of the store, thumbing through really old and fairly ugly dresses from the fifties (I was looking for seventies stuff but for some reason I always get side-tracked by that decade) when the really loud music from like 1999 suddenly shut off and there was an air of emptiness about.
I didn't really think too much about it, and continued to roam about the shop. After about twenty minutes I decided there was nothing there for me and made my way to the front door. I had this really weird vision of some total Twilight Zone stuff - like if I walked out of the store I'd end up walking back into the store. The phone rang and nobody answered. The door was locked. For some totally bizarre reason - I knocked on it.
Then it sunk in that I was locked in. I walked around crying, "Hello?" and "Is anyone in here?" I searched the store, the employee bathroom, etc. But I was, indeed, locked in. So, I went to the front door and looked at my car, which was parked directly in front of me, outside, at a meter.
I noticed a lady across the street, hands full of coffee and a brown bag. She was dressed like a punker, but she was listening to some really bad late-nineties heavy metal so she was no doubt a poser. She also looked to be about seventeen and most likely working at American Vintage for a summer job.
She saw me as I gave her the thousand yard stare, through the glass, across the street. It was like one of those old Kung Fu movies. I zoomed in on her. She saw me and immediately dropped her head and mouthed the word fuck. Yes, it was her.
Running across the street she held my gaze, looking quite serious and to be honest, petrified. The girl fumbled for her key and clumsily opened the door, looked me square in the eye and said with sincerity, "I am SO SORRY."
"Perhaps next time you decide to leave the store for lunch, you should walk the floor to ensure nobody gets locked inside," I seethed slightly.
"I am SO sorry."
"OK." I said softly and then mumbled a, "Have a nice day."
Dude, that chick must have shit her pants. If I had been in there longer, gotten a ticket, I might have raised a fuss. I was only in there a 1/2 hour and twenty minutes of those I had no idea I was all alone and trapped.
2. I can't believe I'm throwing a disco party. Sometimes I think I rock.
3. I battle bugs and win:
4. My brother has had four brain surgeries. (I suppose that makes his life more interesting, not mine).
5. Area rugs make me jolly.
6. I think I'm married to the male version of Snow White. He's got birds perched on his shoulders and deers eating out of his hands. ;-)
7. Rocky Roaster has just decided to allow local artists to display their work and put a price tag on it if they so chose to and I'm thinking of doing it. I don't know if I'll put a price on anything though. If someone approaches me about it, we'll talk, but I think it is too exploitive to put a price tag on something I've shot or painted or drawn. I'm no whore.
8. I went to about ten stores looking for a sash of some sort for the AMAZING dress I bought...Something red to match my shoes and earrings (The dress is black) and I ended up at Joanne's, buying material.
9. The driver's side mirror of my car was ripped off over a month ago and it is now hanging by an electrical tape thread. I seriously need more tape. Or get it fixed.
10. I have a fungus. I'm not saying where. It grosses me out.
11. I have a mouth full of cavities because I used to be a drug addict and could never afford a dentist. My teeth are very sensitive, but for some reason all the cavities are like under my teeth. You can't see them. Weird, huh?
12. My boss is out of town river rafting so I'm wearing flip-flops to work ;-)
