I'm a Music Geek, and Even I'm Confused

Do you ever wander through a store, see something totally bizarre and useless and wonder how it made it that far? It's even scarier when you work in the business that I do.

Things come through my office that haven't made it to the marketing stage yet. These are sent to us in the hopes that someone here will see its "true potential" and place it in our stores. And sadly, someone does and it ends up on our shelves.

The most recent (and to date most absurd) example of this are a series of exercise DVDs called Conductorcize. That's right, kids... a series of exercise DVDs based on conducting.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Freud Would Be Proud

So, dear reader, this past weekend was Memorial Day. A day to reflect on the men and women who have served this country and those who have died for it... it is also an excuse for people to take a 3 (or more) day weekend! For me, it was the time to take the boyfriend home to meet the parents.

The weekend was incredibly short for us given that he had to work Saturday night until about 4am... so we headed to my parents' home around 6am Sunday morning. We returned Monday evening around midnight.

So what does this have to do with Freud you ask? My father and my boyfriend are so alike to the point where it is scary. They bonded instantly and disappeared for hours on Sunday looking at and test driving various sports cars from a variety of dealerships in the area. Freud has a theory about daughters having inappropriate feelings about their fathers... this is as close to that theory as I ever want to get (in case you didn't know, I think Freud is a whack-job).

Thankfully the weekend went well. My parents both liked him as did my sister (for the minimal amount of time she spent with him), and he and I survived a 6 hour car trip both ways without getting into any major spats.

All in all, I call this one a win, folks.

Conspiracy Theory

Perhaps I am just being paranoid, but I'm fairly certain the 7 train hates me.

Today I got to the platform just to discover the train wasn't running (no explaination as to why... perhaps it decided to take an early holiday like most of NY). Luckily for me, my boyfriend was catching a ride to a meeting at LGA, so I hitched a ride to the R train at Steinway.

Ironically, I caught the R at 8:30am and I got to work at 9:01! If I had taken the 7 to the 4/5, I would've been in around 9:15...

So yes, I think the 7 train hates me.

Never a Dull Moment on the New York City Subway

You see? Not one day after I decide to share all of my loony-magnetic moments with the world on this blog and already I have something to share.

I was running late this morning (I seem to always run late when leaving the boyfriend's place... go figure), so I was waiting on the 7 train platform at about 8:30 this morning (when I really should have been there at 8am, but who's counting). I waited about 10 minutes before the train finally came. Okay, so I would be about 15 minutes late at this point... no big deal.

Well we get stopped in the tunnel between Queens and Manhattan under the East River. There is apparently a sick passenger at Grand Central "and we will proceed when this situation is resolved. We apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your patience."I always love that they thank us for our patience. We aren't being patient. We are being trapped. What else are you going to do when you are on a train under a decent-sized body of water besides wait for the Gatekeeper to release you from the black hole .

Anywho... we finally get moving and pull into Grand Central Station. Okay, now I'm going to be about 25 minutes late, but what can I do. A 5 train pulls up almost immediately. Sadly I'm too busy doing my happy-dance that the train is there to notice the craziness brewing behind me.Behind me and slightly to my left is a tall white gentleman with a briefcase who starts shouting at a sideways ballcap wearing black guy in the train.

Various colorful segments of the english language are exchanged between the two before the briefcase toter starts screaming about how crazy he is and how he is going to rip this other guy's throat out.Now it took all my self-restraint (of which I have little you will soon realize) to stop myself from saying to Mr. Briefcase that I think it's time to switch to decaf. Oh yes, not only am I a loony-magnet, but I seem to have a deathwish at times.

Thankfully before I lost my willpower, one of New York's Finest stepped in. He didn't really do much, but he formed a bit of a barrier between the two men. They both continued shouting at one another until the doors on the train closed; Mr. Briefcase outside, Mr. Sideways-Ballcap and the Boy in Blue inside.

Yay, now my morning is complete... and I was 40 minutes late to work for those who are counting.

Blogs are Strange and Wonderful Things

I don't know when the concept of blogging became a reality (perhaps people were watching too much Doogie Howser growing up), but almost everyone seems to have one these days.

This is my third attempt at a blog. I'm not going to change the world with this (and God help the world if I had that kind of power.... everyone likes free chocolate, right?) but I figure I need an outlet for my ramblings lest I should inflict this upon the world in far more destructive ways (ie: an AK-47 at my local Post Office or perhaps a one-woman Broadway show). So here's the bottom line:

I am a loony-magnet. This is my story.