and just when over-confidence threatens:

At work today, as I'm helping a woman in her early thirties:

Customer: "Hey, do you remember a few years ago when the museum used to sell the old farmer tractor t-shirts?" Me: "You'd have to ask one of my coworkers. I've actually only worked here a month." Customer, surprised: "REALLY? Wow. You seem like a natural. I thought you've been doing this for years." Me: ::supremely satisfied:: "Why THANK you! It's so nice to hear that I'm -" Catherine (my coworker): "LINDSAY!! What on EARTH did you do to this register screen?! I've never even SEEN this error message before!!" ::Awkward pause:: Customer: "Uh, never-mind..." ::we bust out laughing::

a week of hilariousness in a nutshell

-Last Tuesday at work: in the middle of the afternoon, I walk by the store's jewelry display, and notice that one of the jewelry boxes is facing the wrong way. Sure enough: it's empty. I notify my manager, and she and I narrow down the general time it must've been shoplifted. She walks me over to the surveillance camera hub, and we start watching the morning activity in the store. Within ten minutes, six other museum employees are crowded around the screens, laughing hysterically as Heather takes turns speeding up and slowing down the museum store tapes, thereby making my recorded self look like Captain Jack Sparrow.

-An hour later: I'm being questioned by a Capitol Square cop, trying to give her information about the woman we caught on camera stealing the jewelry. By the time she leaves, I'm shaking like a leaf, and my manager finally asks me, "What's wrong with you; why are you freaking out? YOU didn't do anything wrong." To which I replied, "Did you HEAR that cop?! I felt like I was being questioned by The Closer!! I nearly made up a crime in my head, just so I could confess to something!"

-Last Wednesday I'm walking over E. Johnson and Butler. Without warning I suddenly hear a succession of loud pops, and literally stop in my tracks in the middle of the intersection. A glimpse into my mind at that exact moment: 'Holy Mother of WALES!! Is someone shooting? Is it the capitol lawn? Should I call the cops? Am I going to DIE?! Did I leave my underwear in the middle of my bedroom floor?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?'
And then, in the middle of my stream-of-consciousness panic attack, I hear the sound again, and subsequently my eye catches on something floating through the air. It's a long ream of bubble wrap. Yes, the popping sound was cars running over the bubble wrap. And yes, running over bubble wrap with my car is most definitely now on my bucket list.

-Last Friday at work: a local Wisconsin public middle school brought in their kids for a tour of the museum. I'm watching as four of the boys walk in ahead of their group, carrying the giant lunch coolers. I make a passing comment to the 10-year-old boys about their impressive muscles, and one of the boys turns to me, levels me with a scornful look and says, "Well, yeah, WE'RE strong. We're GUYS. WAY stronger than YOU." Next thing I know, I'm challenging a 10-year-old to an arm wrestling competition, whilst my male colleagues verbally egg me on. The contest never actually occurred, but the kid and I walked away with mutual respect for each others' smack talk abilities.

-Later that same day: I'm finishing up a change order for the bank, when suddenly two cop cars, sirens blaring, drive up the sidewalk and park outside the museum entrance. Two cops bust through the doors, hands on their holsters, yelling, "WHAT'S THE EMERGENCY?" Turns out someone at the museum's visitor services rep. desk accidentally hit one of the panic buttons. Suffice it to say, my manager ended up having to pat me on the back, telling me to take deep breaths. Yeah...unfortunately, I'm that token person in the crowd whose first instinct in an emergency is to panic.  ::facepalm::  Oh well, so I'll never be an Avenger. Or a cop. Or a doctor. Or a lifeguard. Or...well, let's just say I've probably picked the correct career for me...

ridiculist for the day

It was sunny and 87 degrees yesterday, here in beautiful Madison, Wisconsin. Today: 56, overcast, windy, rainy: FREEZING. The forecast for tomorrow: 77 and sunny. (You Michiganders get why this bipolar weather makes me homesick...)

Speaking of Michigan: found out today that one of my coworkers grew up in Saginaw. We both nearly fell off our chairs when we realized we know some of the same people/places from back home...

So a group of men (old/70s to young/20s) walked into the museum store this afternoon, looking pleasantly confused. I walked over to greet/help them - (WAIT; did I mention one of the younger guys had INCREDIBLY beautiful eyes? And a great smile? And more than slightly resembled Zachary Levi? Because that NEEDS to be mentioned...) ::dreamy sigh::

So ANYWAYS, it turns out the company they work for split them up into groups of six and sent them out on a scavenger hunt. So this is why I ended up wandering around on the museum's third floor, helping them find a) a giant book in our immigrant exhibit, and b) our life-size replica of a cow. (Her name is Buttercup, FYI).

An hour later: I'm dangling from the fifth step of a ladder, leaning over two displays of glass beer mugs, trying to hang a marionette puppet (made in the likeness of Gaylord Anton Nelson) from the ceiling. And for those of you who don't know this about me: I'm the type of person who is thrilled to the bone to drop 350 feet on a roller coaster, but panics if I have to lean even slightly over a one-story balcony. So there I am, trying to hook a creepy-as-heck puppet onto the ceiling, with two coworkers taking turns holding the ladder and panicking over the possibility of me falling into a giant display of glassware.

Suffice it to say: my day was ridiculous.

the older ones

So I met a couple today at work. They are retired. They volunteer part-time at the museum for fun. They are HILARIOUS. A snippet of a conversation I overheard:

"Paul, I'm going to buy two of these stuffed animal fish from the gift shop. Okay?" "
"WHY, Dawn?"
"Well look at them: they're just wonderful. And one's for me and one's for you."
"But I don't want one."
"Too bad! One is going in your car, and one is going in mine."
"But I HATE stuff that just sits around."
"Oh shush. They're CUTE."
"The only thing I keep around because it's cute is you."
"Well then your standards are too low."
"No, they're too high. That thing's not cute enough. Put mine back."
"You old CRANK!"
"I love you too."

::grin::

So I answered the store phone just before close today; an older woman (I'm guessing early seventies) was trying to find a number for the historical society in northwest Wisconsin. She eventually gave up and called us for help. She was very nice, but very frustrated: "I hope you can help me, honey! I searched the Internet using The Google, but all of the phone numbers I found were disconnected. And then a window with four naked men popped up on my screen! Honey, I don't WANT to look at the naked men on the Internet! I JUST WANT A PHONE NUMBER! It's just scandalous that even folks like myself can't get away from the nakedness. I tell you what: the 'net is going to be the ruination of us all."

At this point I'm covering the bottom half of the phone, laughing hysterically, and Evan (the VSR at the admissions desk) is staring at me, trying to decide if I'm laughing or having a seizure...

Here's to the older ones: you make my day.

victory is MINE...

For all you fellow West Wing fans: Friday afternoon at work I was able to legitimately bust out with one of my favorite quotes: "Victory is mine...I drink from the keg of GLORY." I'd just taken my first phone order ever, and found out I did it correctly from beginning to end. ::fistpump::. Unfortunately, none of my co-workers understood why I was telling them to bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land. I need to find me some kindred spirits around here...

The last few days have been quite the mixed bag, full of awfulness and awesomeness. I've been hit on by a creepy coworker and simultaneously rescued by an awesome one, received a parking ticket then given some excellent advice about how to avoid them permanently, taken a disappointingly abbreviated tour of the capitol yet had the pleasure of creeping on two weddings held in the Assembly Chamber. And this morning I listened to a sermon I hated, yet was treated extremely kindly by total strangers.

But the pinnacle of this mixed bag weekend: this afternoon I got pulled over for running a light while driving home from the grocery store. So there's the awful. The awesome: the cop looked at my info, realized I've only been here two weeks, believed me when I admitted I wasn't paying attention because I'd gotten a little turned around, and let me off with a warning. She also looked at my home address and took it upon herself to give me some safety tips; apparently there's been a lot of break-ins along my street over the past couple weeks.

And then the random hilarious: she looked at me funny when I told her I'd moved here from Michigan. She then handed me the printout of my info; turns out the DMV made a mistake and put in that I'd moved here from Minnesota. "Probably just a typo," she said, "But you probably want to give them a call and get that fixed. I'm looking at you and I'm pretty sure you're not trying to "Bourne" and switch identities or something, but it doesn't look great to have that mistake on your information."

?!?!?!

Oh yes, she DID use "Bourne" as a verb. AND she gave me directions on the quickest route home.

So yep, the cops around here are REALLY cool. :D

Bob the Builder...I am not.

So turns out there's 5 things you should know before buying/assembling an 89 dollar bed stand from Walmart:

1. A "bed stand" sounds a LOT lighter than it actually is. In reality, it's like 90 pounds of dead weight in a giant rectangular box that's VERY difficult to move. Especially if you have to move it by yourself. Through two sets of apartment doors that're INCREDIBLY heavy. (You know, 'cause when the doors are really heavy, it adds to the safety features of the apartment. I mean, what self-respecting thief feels like opening TWO sets of heavy doors? By the second, they'd be like, "Man! This is too much work. I'm just gonna give this up, go home, make myself a healthy meal, and comb through the yellow pages for a respectable job.")

2. When the instructions say "minimal assembly required" AND under "necessary tools" lists "two people" and three hardware tools, you know you're in trouble.

3. Sometimes when the guys who are preparing the bed stand kit drill vital holes in the boards, they get tired or bored halfway through. So they stop. Halfway through. Which requires you to walk 2 miles to a hardware store to buy a really big nail so you can hammer the holes the rest of the way through.

4. When you go to a hardware store, spend 8 cents and buy one nail, the guy at the checkout is going to treat you like an idiot. This might be true if you're male or female, but I'm guessing the odds are greater if you're a female.

5. One side of the boards will be shiny and finished, and that's the side that's supposed to be showing when you're done assembling. However, if you can't figure out how to make the pretty sides face out, it's okay. The bed stand will still work. It just...won't look QUITE like the picture. But hey, we're not spending 89 dollars on a bed stand to look classy, right?

So yep, my bed stand works great.
:D

the usefulness of a stay-at-home umbrella

A Tale of Weather Woe

So I walked to class late yesterday afternoon under the cover of blue skies, whistling into the humid air.

Two-and-a-half hours later: I walk out of the building and straight into a weather advisory storm. No kidding: lightning, thunder, heavy rain, and winds so strong there's outdoor restaurant chairs flying toward me down State Street. And let's remember: I've not been too fond of storms since traveling through Joplin Missouri this past summer, experiencing the aftermath of their very BIG weather event of 2011.

But what can a girl do, when she's walked the 1.5 miles to campus for her very first class of the semester, with nothing but an empty notebook and (apparently) misguided optimism about the weather?

So there I am, running down State Street, dodging fallen branches, flying debris, and the occasional dead bird on the sidewalk, shoes squishing with every step, when suddenly the street lamps go out. I hear loud exclamations from fellow pedestrians, and we all note with relief that the traffic lights are still working. I decide to ditch my usual route (which takes me down several not-so-busy and DEFINITELY not as safe roads) and run straight for the capitol. As I cross over one of the busier intersections, the air is suddenly filled with hoots and yells. There's a group of guys running straight through the street and the storm, wearing nothing but boxers and U.S flags around their necks. Thank you, rush week, for keeping us classy.

I hit capitol square and hear sirens going down E. Johnson. And at that exact moment I happen to look to my right; there's a group of people huddled on the steps of the Wisconsin Department of Justice building. This group is made up of American Apparel-wearing students, people in business suits, vagrants hugging their packs, tourists in sandals and fanny packs; you name it, they're there, trying to find shelter under the awning of this architecturally beautiful building. As I run by I take a mental snapshot, dodging puddles, wobbly bikers, and frantic motorists trying to exit the capitol loop.

And all the sudden the complete ridiculousness of the entire situation hits me. I'm running through the streets in the middle of a lightning/rain/wind storm, and all I can think about is my stupid umbrella sitting on the bottom of my bedroom closet. The umbrella that would've only made me an easier object for the wind to catch and blow into the side of a building.

I stop in my tracks. And laugh. Out loud. In the pitch black, in the middle of the street.

My hair is dripping in my face, my white socks are now black, and I'm shivering with the cold.

And I'm having the time of my life.

there and back again: getting lost Hobbit style

So turns out the city looks COMPLETELY different after dark...who'd a thunk? Last Thursday night I attempted to drive out of the city to spend the long weekend with family in Rockford, Illinois. Ended up driving in this never-ending circular loop for a good 10 minutes before I raised the white flag. Found myself at a gas station with a map in my hand, trying to get directions from a lovely Indian man whose adorable accent - and my complete lack of language skills - created a bit of a barrier. Turns out this guy knew what he was talking about; I found US-14 in no time after following his directions. My last image of him: his earnest face pressed against the gas station window, willing me on to the correct road. Thank you, random angel of mercy, for taking pity on a directionally challenged small-town kid.

And on this subject of getting lost/being directionally challenged: I'm thinking about wearing a sign around my neck that says "Don't bother: I don't know where I am right now, much less where you're trying to go." For some reason, I am one of those unfortunate people who never really knows where they are or where they're trying to go, but apparently LOOKS like they do. I swear, every other person on the street asks me for directions. It's just not a good idea, people. Don't do it. Even if I'm familiar with where you're trying to go, I'll still manage to get you lost. It's like my superpower. VERY unhelpful power, FYI.

Gearing up to assemble my bedstand this afternoon. Probably going to involve much drama, because in these tools/assembly/reading directions situations I'm much like Vanna White from Wheel of Fortune: I can pose very prettily and make the smarter people look REALLY good. But that's about it.

Well, we'll see what happens...