Notes taken out of context.

In the process of cleaning my room (the room I spent more than half of my childhood in, the room I just moved back into after not living in for four years a.k.a. there was a lot of stuff just stashed in random places room), I have discovered lots of little pieces of papers, post-its, business cards, what-have-yous with notes on them, either that I noted to myself or received. Sometimes I remember what they mean or what they come from, frequently I don't. I am going to share a few. Feel free to claim you're the one who said any of them. This may become a new series (if I ever resume regular posting), semi-inspired by Erica's affinity for my (is "to" actually the correct word here?) letter series.

"Looks like a 502, he's really weaving." "Give him a ball of yarn; he could make us both a sweater."

"Call him on it, be like, 'that dog just ain't gonna hunt.' Yeah, maybe the idiom is too much, but my point remains." (okay, honestly, I now remember exactly who said this and what/who it was about, but I didn't when I found it and it's kinda too much to get into for a blog post but makes me chuckle and thus I deem it post-worthy).

Perhaps a good way to remember the order of the streets downtown: "Wouldn't it be grand to hope to pick flowers on Figueroa?"

"1848 was charming only through an excess of the ridiculous"

"It is not theft to steal from thieves; it is merely irony."

OK, this last one I wrote down sometime during 2006. I know this because other stuff on the paper happened that year. I also know gkla told/IMed/somethinged this to me, but I have no idea what it is referencing: "Laura, you may now proudly say of yourself, "Today I was riding dirty." So fantastically dated, right?!

Also,

14.71% of visitors to this blog this month searched for etrog vodka. How timely.
5.88% for "susan harris" ucla.

Ice cream man, on my street

Last year I was in the elevator (I believe with Susan Harris, in fact) and there was this kid (kid being college student of comparable age to me), but he looked more like he was thirty years old. I had seen him several times before in the elevator and whatever. He always wore solid colors--lots of army green, navy, black, white, beiges; even his shoes would fit in these parameters. But the particular time being discussed here was different. He was licking an ice cream cone from the dining halls like he was four years old--an activity not uncommon for the elevator of a college residence hall, but this coupled with the fact that he looked about thirty five was just too much. The juxtaposition was hilarious. He was just resting, leaning back in a corner of the (overly massive) elevator with his ice cream mindin' his business.

Ok, so then I guess he lives in my apartment building this year although I hadn't seen him once last quarter because I have seen him three times in two days! Still in the same color scheme, of course. My building has this 'study lounge' sort of thing which I never really go to, but today I decided to do some reading there because its couch is (unfortunately) more comfortable than mine. And this kid is there, on his laptop with headphones, laughing for about a half hour. But his laugh can't really be described as a normal human laugh; it's more of whispered cackle, if that makes any sense at all. Like a hyena who lost his voice. WEIRD.

* The title of this post comes from a song aptly entitled "Ice Cream Man" by Jonathan Richman that is super fantastic and highly recommended.