They Call On Me For Everything

...and I mean everything! Today, the Penn bookstore held a story hour for the local kiddies featuring Winnie-the-Pooh. The girl designated to play Pooh Bear was late, and so naturally they called on me (Old Faithful, they used to call me during the war years) to put on the furry-backed costume and the giant bear head that smelled of piss, stand by Chris as she read the story, and greet the kiddies afterward with a wave here, a hug there, a handshake everywhere...

I think I've found my calling. I can't wait to tell my parents, for I'm sure they'll understand why their daughter put away a career in medicine or law or research for this, and they'll be very happy for her, I am certain of it!

Putting away the sarcasm- as well as the image of the initially uncomprehending, then horrified looks on my parents' faces were I to tell them such a dastardly thing, though, I actually had a lot of fun playing Winnie-the-Pooh. I think, there's a dormant "class clown" part of me that enjoys getting laughs and being silly and stupid in front of a crowd. And the kids were so so cute!

Afterward, Emily walked me out of the children's corner, and I said to her, still dressed in the Pooh Bear attire, "Now where's my cigarette?" And then, I proceeded to knock out a customer who was getting off the elevator with one swift, furry punch, pick up her fallen merchandise (which happened to include the book: How to Avoid Getting Mugged By a Friendly Bear), and run out of the store into the bright afternoon sunlight.

Flatland: A Mystery of Many Dimensions

I was shelving books at work today-yesterday, when I came across a copy of "Flatland" by Edwin Abbott. I know the inventory of books pretty well by now, if I do say so myself, and I happened to know that we were supposed to have 5 copies of Flatland, but when I went to shelve the loose copy, I noticed that there were already 5 on the shelf.

Mystere!

I thought the Bookmaster (BM; computer program that tells you the number of each book the store has in stock) was mistaken, and so I shelved the loose copy and changed the number in the BM from 5 to 6.

A few hours later, I came back from lunch, and guess what lay innocently on the desk, but another copy of "Flatland"! Maybe someone picked it up, but decided against buying it and didn't put it back in its proper place, that bastard! I thought. And so I picked up the loose copy and went to shelve it, only to find that there were already 6 copies on the shelf!

Double mystere!

By now, I was slightly freaked out because I knew that "Flatland" was about 2-dimensional shapes discovering higher dimensional space, and here before my very eyes, the stockpile of Flatland copies was growing- or under my nose, since I didn't know what or who was causing the growth. They were like stubborn weeds, cropping up in random corners of the Bookiverse in unwanted numbers.

What could I do but shelve the 7th copy and change the number in the BM from 6 to 7?

Now, I'd like to say that this mysterious increase continued until we were up to our ears in copies of Abbott's sci-fi classic because that would certainly heighten the tension and mystery and absurdity of the situation, but in truth, this bookstore mystery, at least, was solved pretty soon after the 2nd extra copy was found.

Turns out that "Flatland" had been assigned as a reading for some Penn course, and so students thinking about taking the course were bringing down copies of the book from the Textbooks section and leaving them around the store, inadvertantly creating a strange scavenger hunt of sorts.

For a while, though, I couldn't tell which side of the looking glass I was on. I was living the written word. Bookstore life is so damnably exciting.

This incident reminds me of the time we were hunting around for 3 missing copies of "The Book Thief". Come to think of it, I don't think we ever recovered those...

Early Morning Ambiguities/Crazy People at the Grocery Store

I was moseying down the cereal aisle at frogro yesterday when suddenly this middle-aged black man came down the aisle yelling "Life! Life! I need life! Where's life? Life, life!" with incredible vigor. When he reached me, I replied, "You're living it!"

Turns out, he was just looking for the cereal.

An employee showed him the row of Life cereals, and the Crazy Man said "What's it doing way over here?" "It's a long story," replied the employee, helplessly.

Was the employee talking about the cereal or his life? Okay, probably his cereal, but I thought the whole thing was bizarre and funny and bloggable.

Science Link

Something about time.

Filling the Void

For the past couple of days, I've been feeling like something's been missing in my life. And being a girl who's never been in a relationship before, I immediately assumed that that 'something' was a boy. But today, I realized I was wrong. Today, I realized that the crevasse in my heart was created by the lack of an obsession. It only took me 12 episodes of 24 (straight!) to discover this truth. Indeed, truth takes time.

Cockamamy Is A Funny Word

Man, getting wasted on a Monday night- look what living in a frat house is doing to me. What's that you say? It's not the frat house, it's me? Quiet, you.

Also, my silver senior formal wristband broke off yesterday. I dunno how it happened- one minute it was on my wrist, the next minute, it was on the bathroom floor and I just stared at it for a third minute going "Fuck, I've had this baby on since May 10th!" I thought the event merited a minute-by-minute account on this blog here.

Elvis is Dead, Y'all

He didn't listen to his mama when she said "Boy, don't you evah eat 13000-calorie sandwiches!"

Recipe for the King's fav Fool's Gold sandwich (aka, 5 easy steps to a fatal heart attack (aka, Lethal Weapon 5)):

1. Warm up a whole loaf of white bread in the oven.

2. Hollow out the middle.

3. Spread a jar of peanut butter on one side, a jar of jelly on the other.

4. Layer up the inside with a pound of bacon.

5. Eat and perish.

Serves: 1

Reply

Ms. Chung

I realized too late that you were not Sarah....wrong hair color...but I thought "how could anyone look so much like her but not BE her"? I nearly returned to apologize but didn't want to increase my embarrassment. Give my regards to your sister. And you too have a great summer.

WAC

Yet Another Case of Mistaken Identity and the Ensuing Email

Hi Professor Clee,

It occurred to me that you were mistaking me for my twin sister, Sarah (who was in your 412 class this past semester) today at Van Pelt. It took me a while to realize who you were because I only went to your first class. Anyway, that's why I looked at you funny, that's all. Have a nice summer. If that wasn't you at the library, then feel free to ignore this email and maybe have a laugh over it.

Angie Chung

A Trip to the Loo Takes Longer Than Expected

"We are all terminal cases."

This is the kind of graffiti one can only find at a Barnes and Noble bathroom. I won't begin to tell you how long I sat on that toilet, trying to figure out what book/movie that line came from. It was long after I left the bathroom that the answer finally came to me...I'll let you google it if you don't know.

Undesirable Findings

Oh ew. I just found a pile of fingernail clippings next to the computer. I can't decide whether I'm more disgusted or disturbed.

Lowbrow Graffiti

Walking down Walnut...

Sarah: Haha, look Ann, someone wrote "Scarface dies in the end" on the wall!

Angie: Hahaha, that's hilarious! Heeheeheehoooooo!...Have we ever seen that movie?

Sarah: No, I don't think so.

Angie: Oh. (Silence.) Hm. Not so funny anymore.

W.H. Auden

I heard this on "Four Weddings and a Funeral":

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,

I thought that love would last forever: ‘I was wrong’

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

These words don't reflect my current mood in the least bit, but still, I've never heard such a perfect expression of grief before I heard this poem from Auden's "Funeral Blues" delivered in a clear, plaintive voice with the rolling r's of a Scotsman.

It Ain't Over 'Til--

The Fat Lady has sung- ow ow owwwww!!!!

3.1415926535897932384626

4338327950288...That's All Folks

Greetings from Ephraim the Retarded Rabbit-Catholic Priest: Quid agis, medice?

It just occurred to me that at one point last night, I was reciting the digits of pi in a drunken reverie.

I miss books. I'm gonna drop everything and go work at a bookstore. Peasout, friends, et al.

~Explorer

ssss

woah...i am stilll drunk. peasout luvya everybody every body

One-Liner

Sometimes, it's fun to talk about little, inconsequential things like your favorite chocolate bar.

Study Breaks

Yesterday, I did the silliest thing. I spent all day yesterday studying in my room. (No, that's not the silly thing.) Naturally, many study breaks were taken, involving snacking, peeing, cleaning, and brushing teeth, among other gerunds. During one study break, I had a sudden desire to try on my fancy turquoise and black dress from Mandee's, so I shimmied into it and modeled it to myself in front of the mirror. Then I took it off and hung it back up in my closet. But instead of putting my jeans and top back on like a sensible person, I decided to try on my Old Navy dress. Then my gray H&M dress. I ended up modeling every one of my dresses that afternoon, posing and prancing...basically holding an impromptu fashion show for me and my chiral twin. Eventually, though, I exhausted my supply of dresses, and so I put my jeans and top back on and went back to studying analysis. I had a total girl moment. Gee, I probably shouldn't even be telling you this. If I had any pride, I would keep this moment to myself. Sometimes, I feel sixteen again. And I have no shame, apparently.

Tabula Rasa

Almost anyway. You know how it is with blogs: you expose yourself, then you feel too exposed. I realized, while cleaning out my blog, that I've had this thing for over a year. Long live Archimedes- hoo!

Coloring My Name

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Angie. I was named after the Rolling Stones song of the same name."

I decided today that from now on, whenever I meet new people, I'm gonna tell them that I was named after the Rolling Stones song, "Angie". I've grown to love that song, which is a huge change from my initial reaction (Ew, why are they saying my name funny?!). Looks like I'm going through a Stones phase. I always go through phases.