Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Ghost Adventures: Charleston, SC

Back in Charleston for my last year of college. It's bittersweet.  I love being back here, but it's a bit like visiting a dying relative:  I know my time is short with Charleston so I am trying to make the most of it. Every rain storm, every sunset, every "what is that smell?" hits me in a certain place in my heart.
But I can't be sad. Because it is Charleston after all, and being here just makes me overcome with happiness.

This year, I am living in a historic house. (or is it "an historic house?" I never understood that)  It feels like living in an apartment, even though it is owned by the College and we live on dorm furniture.  It also feels a bit like living in a haunted house.

Evidence our house may be "haunted"
  1. Our bathroom is a prime murdering location:
    • The light comes on in sharp flickers, as if the last time it was used was to light a meat locker or an abandoned warehouse.
    • We have a medicine cabinet.  Which is just begging ghosts/zombies/murderers to pop up behind you when you're putting your toothbrush away.
  2. The demon fire that heats our stove top MELTED a tea pot. Melted it. Melted a seasoned tea pot meant to withstand hot stoves. It didn't melt all last year OR the day before on the same stove on the same burner. Only conclusion: demon fire.
  3. At the foot of my bed there is a crawl space. To the attic. Just one tiny latch standing between me and whatever decides to come out of there. Nuff said.
  4. The floor is squeaky. Which is, you know. Annoying.
However, even though our house may be haunted, it hasn't killed us yet (knock on wood)!

Alright, now I must get to work like a good college student. I must confess that I wrote this first to get my writing brain loosened up so that I could write my first paper of the semester (assigned the first day of classes and due the third day of classes! yay. shouldn't I be taking ice skating instead? clearly I'm doing this wrong)

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

this type


My ears prick up at my name. I am walking from the MARTA station to my office and halfway through one of the tunnels between two buildings (the kind that go over the street) when I hear someone call my name. Who would be calling my name this far from the office? Maybe it's one of the people I work with who ride MARTA.

Anyone who knows my name can't be a stranger.

I turn around to face the person who has called my name.   ...And I do not recognize this person.  He is about my height, mid forties, African-American, bespectacled. I've definitely never seen him before.  But how could he know my name?
Maybe I met him around the office.  Maybe someone directed him to one of the interns because he needed help on a project.

I put on my polite face.

He says hi, and allows his business card to do the introduction.  He talks to me about working in the building, asks me about my job, what I am doing, what I am studying etc.  It dawns on me that the only way he could have known my name is if he had read it off my ID badge.

As the topics get more personal, I realize this is not a business transaction.  And then as he walks with me through the lobby towards the elevators, my suspicions are confirmed.
"So, what are your lunch plans?"
I told him it was my last week of work and burrowed myself through people deep into the back of the elevator.

It's happened again!  Sometimes people have a "type" that they date/are attracted to...but what if a type has you?

I did not get this kind of creeper attention before...
  1. I got a job, and
  2. I got my hair cut.
This damn Zooey Deschanel hair is just too cute for its own good. And all kinds of creepers are getting trapped in it like a fisher's net. Made of bangs.
Oh, Zooey.

Re: Paco (reply-all)

Reply-alls suck.  I get it now. I get all the lame office humor about conference calls and intra-office memos.  I may even enjoy Office Space more now. 

A few weeks ago, I became part of a weekly event called Subway Wednesdays.  An email would go out Wednesday morning asking who was planning on coming.  Once I replied, however, I became bombarded by reply-alls.  They all referred to an inside joke about a pinata from the office July 4th barbeque. 

At first the magnitude of the emails annoyed me, but it was actually pretty funny...

Me:  agh I keep getting email notices
        and they are reply-alls to a lunch invite today
        and they are all jokes about some girl named Liz marrying a pinata named Paco

Jenna:  you're making this up

Me:  and this last one:
"Hey Alex, how bout we throw Paco a bachelor party?! Nothing but the finest equine for our ol' buddy! "
Jenna:   hahaha the people you work with are awesome
Me:  except I know for a FACT they can not bring Paco to lunch today
        at least not all of him
        because his leg is in my cubicle

Jenna:  O_O
Me:  hollowed out and full of Reese's cups

Jenna:  that is grotesque, madam  
           and incredibly tasty
Jenna:  hahaha
           speaking of severed limbs, DEXTER