Today is my last day at the film festival. I'm a bit sad about it, since I've seen three excellent films in as many days through the organization. It's really worthwhile, but I've got another job that starts on Tuesday. So, I'm hanging out at the old Borders outpost, working on my manager's laptop. The job has its perks: I can read and reshelve all the magazines I want from the bookstore and the cafe often gives us free drinks. We poor public service peeps have to stick together! Still, the management of the store seems peeved with us on a semi-regular basis, solely for being in their store. And there are all the weird customers. This store seems to be a crazy-magnet. We get a lot of questions as to where to find books in the store (I'm working here, but I don't work here), but my favorites are the guy who asked if we were selling CTA passes (nope) and the heavily accented Greek man who wanted to purchase a ticket for Cher. He had to say Cher five times before we realized he was saying Cher, not chair. There's a lot of mockery of customers. When we're in a good mood, we wait until they leave the store. It's funny that they hired a bunch of people who are too-cool-for-school as their customer service kids, but it represents the fest oddly well.
Yesterday, a man stole a big bag full of DVDs from Borders. We sit between the exit and a set of windows, so we see all the sad attempts at shoplifting. This guy was clearly a pro. He ran out, with security in hot pursuit, to waiting cab on Clark. He had a cab waiting for him. The cab peeled out, leaving Mr. Security Man standing on the pavement.
I've been taking public transportation with greater frequency these last few weeks. The CTA is a quirky thing. I ran into two people from my past on the # 22 last night. I can only wonder at the odds of that. Unfortunately, one of them slipped off into the rainy Chicago night before I got a number. Maybe I'll be one of those pathetic borderline stalkers who places "missed connection" ads in the Reader match section. I did a dramatic reading from this week's paper while bored at work the other night. They all sound so desperate, like "You, attractive, lithe blonde on Diversey bus. Me, short middle aged man wearing Cubs shirt. Can't stop thinking about you. Coffee, drinks, more?" Ugh.
I haven't had any time for personal activities lately. I devote most of my waking time to a job that I don't particularly enjoy, eight hours a day, plus transportation, seven days a week. Enough to drive a person crazy. My email account is seriously backed up with my listserv digests. This is the first time in ages I've been able to update my blog. I want to publish with Janet, but haven't even had a chance to email her about strategy. Argh. At least I'm getting knitting time. I knit at work in the downtime. I knit on the train. I finished one giant merino sock, a men's 12 1/2. Just the one, though, with said person's birthday fast approaching. Today, I am working on the raveled sleeve of care: another attempt at the Peace Fleece Everyday Cardigan. I got a call from one of their knitters with some clarification on the pattern (or really, my perception of it) and decided to take it back out of the bureau drawer. This has put my x-mas present socks on the back burner, as well as a seriously belated birthday present scarf, and a ribbed scarf in which I've completely lost interest. It's destined for the secret emergency present stash. I make things throughout the year and tuck them away in case someone's birthday sneaks up on me. I emptied it out when I made my recent trip to Iowa. Since Indian Summer will soon be a thing of the past, the sweater has higher priority.


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