Sometimes I Wish You Didn't Beat That Cancer, Frank.

I've been searching the depths of my brain for something bloggable. Some random event that I could turn into something super ridiculous and, possibly, incorporate another picture of Hillary Clinton into. I suppose I was lucky to find that instance just once. Then, I realized, my blog is more like Seinfeld. Seinfeld...with more Jesus.

Maybe God is trying to tell me something. I mean, this stuff is just too much to ignore. First, in a sheer moment of brilliance, the idea of Bible Character night comes to my head (I know, right?). Then, my cat (or Jesus?) finds the froyo coupon (see previous posts) and the cats-to-bipeds/or-is-it-just-Jesus theory arises. Thirdly, my boss just discovered the parable of the Good Samaritan last Sunday; I spent a solid half hour contemplating whether I was just naive in my lackluster religious knowledge or rather that my boss was just another C & E Christian that, ultimately, is no different than I am. BUT THEN, the un-ignorable happened.

As I was walking into my workplace, my top split wide open.

Right now, I'm googling 'bad show choir outfits' to show you what my cocktail waitress uniform looks like. Alas, all I'm coming up with is (apart from the first 3 pages of Glee pictures--what was show choir before Glee, anyway?):





My outfit looks nothing like this first one, but you get it. This one's lacking in sparkles in comparison. I feel bad for the kid who got stuck with the flute.

It must be noted that 1)it was the zipper that just let 'er go, 2)I have not gained any weight (yes, I'm sure), and 3)after I struggled to keep my top on and went to the dressing room it eventually zipped back up and ceased to cause me more trouble. Conclusion: God thinks public nudity is funny. God also wants you to know He exists...but only in the clever, meaningful ways.

Completely off topic, but worth saying: I forgot to mention one of the absolute highlights of my Europe trip. My dad and I ditched out of the goodbye reception to go take the Eye (love you, Dad. I don't think he really wanted to, but I did. For the record, I was right and it was awesome) around 930 at night. We had to take the subway, obviously. We're all swankified and he turns to me and says, "You know, I'm sorry to have to tell you this...and I never thought I would...but I bet all these people think you're a hooker." You go, dad. You. Go. Is your dad that awesome? In a roundabout fashion, this is connected to the title of this post. Sometimes people say things that you hope you never forget (no, not like "I luv u soo muchh babi" or "Whose is it, bitch?" or "righty-tighty, lefty-loosy"). Like last night. With my top completely on, I witnessed my roulette table cheering outrageously (my roulette table happened to be the reason I made roughly $35 an hour last night--and I'm quitting?!) and I was all,
"Man, I love it when they do that!!!"

Adara looks off into oblivion and mutters, "...I love it when they cry," in what I can only assume is her best Clint Eastwood impression.

The cancer comment was only a few minutes later. I read something where an English woman used the word 'awesome' all the time to sound American and this one sad, sad article about how the only adjective we'll use in 50 years is 'awesome', but man, that moment was...fantastic.

On a much more educated note, I recently finished Malcolm Gladwell's 'The Tipping Point'. If you haven't read anything by him, DO IT NOW. All his books are fascinating and super-easy reads. The way he writes is like talking to an intelligent friend who doesn't require you to respond with witty asides. Along with all the other concepts, he states that:

"The success of any kind of social epidemic is heavily dependent on the involvement of people with a particular and rare set of social gifts."[4] According to Gladwell, economists call this the "80/20 Principle", which is the idea that in any situation roughly 80 percent of the 'work' will be done by 20 percent of the participants."

This 20% is divided into three categories:

--Connectors: People with lots of different friend groups, that link us to different worlds. These people spread things the quickest.

--Mavens: Information specialists; information brokers that share and trade what they know. I would call Megan Moore a Maven. At least a pop culture Maven. =]

--Salesmen: "Persuaders", charismatic people with powerful negotiation skills, an 'it-factor' that you can't really place. Aka Peter Jennings.

I just like thinking about it. Who are these people in my world? Am I any of these to anyone else? Are you 80 or 20? Anyway, read his stuff. 'Blink' is even better in my opinion.

One last thing before I end this pointless post: this woman called the box office today and proceeded to chat with me for a solid ten minutes about absolutely nothing. However, something she said struck me as quite...saddeningly poetic. She was talking about her perfect Saturday night and she said, "I like to gather up last week's papers, sit down, read all the bad things, and know everything got resolved."

If you haven't already seen this picture on my fbook (or if you have, one more time won't kill you), let's lighten the mood:



=].


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