Sign Dancing

One of the first things I noticed when I moved to Fort Collins was the abnormal amount of sign dancers.  You know, those poor teenage/college kids that wave around an unwieldy and obnoxiously hard-to-read sign at the corner of some large intersection, attempting to influence you to visit the huge mattress sale or thrift shop or have your house painted?  Well, this town seems to almost not have enough corners to hold all of these minimum-wage, rain-snow-hailstorm-or-shine America's next best dancers, who offer more entertainment during my daily commute than any iPod playlist ever could.  

My current list of favorite sign dancers is as widely varied as the commitment level of the sign dancers (well, I suppose it's more of a ratio of commitment to the job versus public embarrassment potential).  There's the curly haired kid at Harmony and Lemay who does nothing but headbang.  I have seen him standing there on the corner, every day, during lunch hour, after work...  headbanging.  And trying to invite you to the bike sale.  My favorite part?  He rides a skateboard.

Then there is the dancing dog (at least i think it's a dog), who is a guy who wears ears glued to a headband and some sort of tail.  And holds a sign for something completely unrelated to him dressing, however poorly, as a canine.  The mysterious giant strawberry (only sighted once)... it may have been a mirage.  It was just an exceptionally large dancing strawberry.  I can't even remember if he/she/it was holding a sign.   It did look delicious.  One day, I saw an older guy, who, if he lets his dreams fly as high as his masterful (way too experienced) sign throwing, will go far in life.  He turned sign dancing into an art form, let me tell you.  You couldn't read what it said, you didn't care what it said.  He must have been a baton twirler in his childhood, or something.  It was mesmerizing.   And I won't ever be able to forget the crazy Santa-bearded bicycle-shorts-wearing too-large-for-those-shorts old man during the local elections.  He was everywhere.  I'm serious.  At the time, I would drive different ways to work depending on the traffic flow, but never failed to allow him to awkwardly wave and shout at me as I attempted to innocently passed unnoticed.  He reeeeally cared about the person who was running for the school board, or whatever it was he was campaigning for.  I forgave him for his stalkerish nature and ill-fitting attire because of his commitment to his cause.

If only I could be humble enough to walk out there with costume/sign in hand and wave it for all the world to see and dance like a buffoon.  One day, maybe.  I'm also exceptionally pleased to report that, just now, when i typed "sign dancing" into google, although I was a little sad I wasn't the first person to ever call them that, not only do people know what sign dancers are, there is a website.  With videos.  LOVE IT.

Need to laugh?

YouTube was a wonderful invention.  Not only can you find "how to" videos on EVERYTHING you'd ever dreamed of (including several on how to tie off a knitted scarf, which is perfect since I can't make that detail stick in my brain)... it also offers a general ridiculousness that just can't even be described.  That being said, I never go onto the website just because... I instead wait for everyone else to slum through the garbage and then post the true video clip treasures to facebook.  There are some true winners.  For example, this is a chuppycuppycake dream.  His eyebrows at the end... I can't watch this video enough times.

My mother, who only in the past few years has warmed up to the internet and e-mail and social media showed me this true gem.  THIS is what you need to watch first.  And then... THIS.  Surprising, on so many levels.  Mostly because it was my mother that showed it to me.

But you have to be careful with her recommendations, because she also tricked me into watching this video called "People of Walmart."  I refuse to put a link for it on here because you really need a strong stomach to get through it... it's a catchy tune about how... er... diverse the customers of walmart truly are, especially in reference to their choice of apparel (or lack thereof) in public.  If you can stand seeing a few hundred snapshots of ill-fitting or ill-conceived style choices, go look for it yourself.  But don't say I didn't warn you.

Sometimes, when you have nothing else to keep you going, just think... is this real life?  Terrible segue, I know, but I couldn't help myself.  Please say you've seen this.  Sometimes you can't get through the day without pushing up out of your seat and screaming like a jungle animal.  Just saying.

Best. Job. Ever.

And I quote, from an actual job posting for an actual job that I am actually applying for:

"WORK ENVIRONMENT: The work environment characteristics described here are representative of those an employee encounters while performing the essential functions of this job. While performing the duties of this job, the employee is exposed to fumes or airborne particles and toxic or caustic chemicals.  The employee is frequently exposed to moving mechanical parts and explosive materials.  The employee is occasionally exposed to wet and/or humid conditions, outside weather conditions, extreme cold, extreme heat, risk of electrical shock, and vibration.  The noise level in the work environment is usually moderate." 

Who wouldn't want to be a chemist after reading this job description?

I am probably the most worried about the moderate noise level.  Or... maybe the vibration.  I'm most excited about the frequent exposure to explosive materials.  I thought I was applying for a "Water Treatment and Operations" position.  You never know... it makes you wonder how this job came to be open in the first place!

I don't want to seem completely self-obsessed and narcissistic... but I feel like part of the point of a blog is to know about its author.  This entry will be all about me.  So... here is my current life-status report.

I live in Fort Collins, Colorado in a 2-bedroom apartment with a hippie-waitress-EXTREMELY-talkative 24-year-old named Whitney.  Her jobless-super-friendly-until-he's-drunk-then-he's-just-LOUD boyfriend occasionally stays over.  And by occasionally I mean 90% of the time.  They're both friendly and generous people and I appreciate that she lets me use her extra bed, since apartments in good old FC come unfurnished.  Thus my recent acquisition of a small dresser from IKEA and a bookshelf from craigslist.  I feel like more of a real person now that I own furniture.
 
I am a bank teller.  I have been for three months, for lack of a better job opportunity and after three months of unemployment (not counting two weeks at Dunkin Donuts around Christmastime).  Just the other day I held a check for 1.3 MILLION dollars in my hands.  No big deal.  Every day I handle more cash than I'll ever have, ever.  It's a little bit saddening.

I want to be a chemist again.  Someday.  I truly miss it.

My current (revived) love is swimming.  I've really enjoyed going to the local pool lately and swimming my laps... swimming hard offers an all-over exhaustion that just feels so much better than any other type of exercise!

I have a boyfriend.  His name is Nathan, and we've been dating for... 14 months now?  He is working toward his PhD in organic chemistry.  He has been at CSU for almost a year now...  only 5 to go.  He works for a guy named Bob, who is known as a cranky old man who wears short shorts.  No joke.

He is currently in California visiting his family for two weeks.  Thus the true reason this blog was born... sheer boredom.  And when I say he, I mean Nathan, not Bob.  That'd be awkward.

My most awesome new news is that I adopted a coworker's guinea pig today.  I'm still figuring out what to call him.  I should post a picture... but here is an idea of what he looks like:



...

WOAH just kidding.  I wouldn't want a pet with hair longer than mine!  This is a little more accurate:



What should I call him?

Here We Go.

I have made a monumental decision.  I think that decision is relatively self-explanatory.  Everyone else is getting or has gotten married - no, seriously, everyone.  They all had cute little designer cupcakes at their receptions.  Hundreds of them.  And varieties of lemonades out of glass carafes.  Adorable.  I digress.  As each friend is lost to their new significant other, they leave behind only small little written updates proving they're still alive.  They move far away, disappear from Facebook... and yet every so often they proffer adorable stories, romantic gestures, newfound married-people wisdom and quirky glimpses of their new awesome lives... not to mention all the pinch-their-cheeks-they're-so-precious!!! pictures when the babies start popping out.  I appreciate this blog-life-update trend, because otherwise I would have no idea where half of the people I know even are anymore.  And reading up on everyone's lives is a great way to pass the time at work.  Google Reader, try it out... genius.  Again, I digress.  As it seems recently that I have become the only person on the planet yet to be married, I propose (pun intended) the following:  I will remind you all of what it was like to be single.  Now, currently, I'm not super-de-duper single, I'd say I'm 50% unhitched.  Awesome boyfriend, no ring.  Yeah, I'm going with 50%.  However.  My life, albeit mine alone, is still cool.  Probably cooler than some married people's, but I'm not one to make that judgement.  The purpose of this blog is not to rag on married people.  It's to prove that I'm still interesting and you all should still pay attention to me.  I don't mean that in a whiny-I'm-a-princess-brat kind of way, but in a hey-remember-those-good-old-days-when-we-would-leave-dead-flower-arrangements-on-people's-doorsteps kind of way.

Because let's be honest, once you start posting recipes, you're a goner.

Speaking of which, I made a killer jello salad for church break-the-fast today.  ;)