Exercise in the Weird

• Walking through a strip mall on the way to an ATM Saturday morning, it struck me that every time I glance at a Staples sign out of the corner of my eye, I see the word “strapless”.

• I opened an envelope from Netflix, fully expecting to find a DVD of Cars. Instead, in a rare first, I found Baby Einstein Baby Newton Discovering Shapes. I popped it into my computer to see if maybe the disc was mislabeled. Within minutes, I learned about squares, circles, and triangles, to the tune of some catchy melodies. I rejoiced when the shapes merged to form a dancing clown, then caught myself: “What the heck am I doing?!” I reported the error and mailed the disc back, hopefully to find its way to the parent who returned their child's video instead of their rental.

• How sheltered or eccentric am I that I continue to learn basic, common sense knowledge that everyone else is already privy to? Earlier this week, I found out that I didn't have to turn my cell phone off before plugging it in to the wall to charge it. Saturday night on the way to a surprise karaoke birthday party for one of my friends from work, I noticed that the ticket machine at the train station has a credit card slot. Thus ended the stress of having wrinkled paper money rejected and frantically smoothing it while trains pulled in. Sometimes I think I make my life a lot harder than it has to be. Of course, flash forward five hours and you'll find me struggling with a machine that isn't recognizing my credit card, and ultimately using paper money.

• Kids I initially thought were in high school, later picking up that they were in their early 20s, were having some interesting conversations on the train about friends who'd given in to the lure of drugs. One told of a time when his buddy called him, high on something, and kept telling him to come get him, without saying where he was. He drove around all night, and whenever the guy called him back, he never said where he was. Eventually the friend went home, while the other guy went to what he thought was his home, and kicked the door down. His parents hadn't locked him out; he had moved out and bought the house next door. His father, upon finding the son had kicked in the door, beat the crap out of him and called the cops. It was nice that this group of kids had escaped such dangerous habits. One or two girls admitted to trying a pill once, then never again. When we got to New York, they carried out their empty cases of beer, vocally anxious to have a cigarette after such a long ride.

• I walked over 30 blocks through the city because I had an hour to kill, and the weather was unseasonably awesome.

• I've never sung in front of my coworkers before. Many were stunned that I kicked off the evening with a little Funky Cold Medina. Later I'd advise people to Have a Nice Day, inform them that I was Insane in the Brain, and confirm that they ”may be right; I may be crazy.” It's amazing what two beers will do to me. It's more amazing how complementary drunk people are, though there may have been some instances of sarcasm, especially since at least two people were singing at a nigh professional level. I got to sing a duet with one of my friends, ”It's Still Rock and Roll”, and had the room been booked past midnight, I think the whole room might have united in a Bohemian Rhapsody that I had programmed in to the queue. Just when everyone was loosening up and having fun, it was all over.

• It was impossible to find a cab that wasn't off-duty or already carrying someone. Five of us were heading back to the train station. Three took one, and two found a second cab a few blocks later. We all arrived at the same time, and though almost all were going to different locations, ended up on the same train in the same car.

• I got home around 2 AM. The last commercial on the radio was a humorous description about a guy who goes to karaoke, so I sat and listened to it before going in the house. It goes through how to tell if you've had too much to drink. For one thing, the guy was in a karaoke bar. For another, he was looking for songs on a food menu. When he couldn't read the screen, he started freestyle rapping. It was very funny, and concluded that while you can tell when you've had one too many, sometimes one is too many, and that ”buzz driving is drunk driving.” It had been hours since my last drink, and after a cab ride and a train ride, even the buzz was gone, but I thought it was weird to hear an ad that so specifically reflected the night I'd had, albeit in exaggerated form. I wonder what the law says about blogging a few hours after having a drink?

Weird...