Today, at work, I was made aware of a book we have entitled 'Flora Symbolica: Flowers in Pre-Raphaelite Art' by Debra N. Mancoff (Prestel Press, copyright 2003 - and the ISBN is 3791328514 for anyone who cares). Debra is also a teacher at the school of the Art Institute, and so occasionally she comes into the library to do research. Here's where it gets exciting! In the acknowledgements Debra thanks the usual people (her mom, her dad, Peter Zegers from the Prints & Drawings department, Professor Linda K. Huges of Texas Christian University, blah, blah, blah), but then, somewhere in the middle Debra had typed the words "Josh Eisenberg of the Ryerson Library at the Art Institute of Chicago." That's right, me! Debra thanked me! ...What I did for her, I have no idea. But at least now I can die happy, knowing my name has been published in mass quantities. Thank you. Goodnight.

Scene: Jamba Juice at noon, listening to the woman in front of me order a smoothie.
Woman: Hi, do you have any smoothies that taste predominantly banana?
Cashier: What you mean?
Woman: I want a smoothie that tastes predominantly banana.
Cashier: We got a Banana Berry.
Woman: And what's in that?
Cashier: Bananas, raspberry sherbert, and apple strawberry juice.
Woman: But can I taste the bananas?
Cashier: (giving up at this point) Yeah, you can taste them.
Woman: (audable hesitation in her voice) Alright, I'll have that.

Why doesn't this woman just go out and buy a banana for God sakes!

While checking my e-mail today there was a Travelocity banner ad on the top of the page that flashed "Hotel stays from $29 a night? Hmm, cheaper than rent, maid service included, room service, cable...And why do you have a house?" At first I thought, "Damnit! Why do I have a house?" I then did some calculator work and realized I pay $320 less a month now than if I lived in a hotel for $29 a night. And besides, Bernadette practically counts as maid service.

Scene: Overheard lack of comunication between mother and daughter standing on the sidewalk outside of a furniture store, looking in.
Mother: See, look, there's pleanty of nice pieces in there.
Daughter: I really don't like any of them.
Mother: Oh but honey, just look at that one. See, even in green it looks nice.
Daughter: I hate that one.
Mother: But sweety, no, it's nice.
Daughter: Mooom!
Mother: No, but it's nice.

Today I woke up and went into Bernadette's room at around 7:45. She was sitting watching television, and said that she had already cried once today. Evidently they started airing specials early in the morning. It's amazing to think that even two years later the images can still be so powerful and moving. ...I had typed a lot more here, but it was all "my thoughts" crap. With something like this, that's not the point.

Scene: Bernadette and I are sitting on the sofa, doing nothing. It's getting darker outside and we haven't turned on any lights, so we're beginning to sit in the dark.
Me: So there was an article in the RedEye the other day.
Her: The one on dogs?
Me: Yeah.
Her: Oh, do you still have it?
Me: Yeah, in my room.
Her: Did you read it?
Me: No, did you?
Her: No.
Together: Hmmm.
Yes: Sloth. The gift that keeps on giving.

Yesterday I was waiting for the train and there was a disturbing family on the platform next to me. The dad was fat, with bigger-than-Elvis' sideburns and a hoop earing in his nose. The mom was also kinda odd looking, and the kid just looked like a dork. And then, this conversation happened:

Dad: We should get a disco ball.
Kid: Yay! Disco ball!
Mom: We're not getting a disco ball.
Dad: C'mon, it'll be great. To kid. What do you think?
Kid: Yeah! Disco ball!
Dad: See? Two to one! We're getting the disco ball.
Kid: Two to one! Disco ball!
Mom: We're not getting a disco ball!
Kid: We're getting a disco ball! And it's going in my room!
Dad: No, it's going in the livingroom.
Mom: We're not getting a disco ball.
Dad: And y'know, if we got a disco ball, we'd have to get a light-up dance floor.
Kid: Yay!
Dad: Wouldn't that be fun!?
Kid: Two to one! Light-up dance floor!
Mom: We're not getting a light-up dance floor.

Do you think that if the mom could bribe the kid into voting that they kill the dad, that whole "two to one" thing could hold up in court? "But your honor, they had majority"

Tonight I was watching The Big Chill on TV. During a commercial I walked out to Bernadette and asked, "Am I like, 35 for liking to watch The Big Chill?" And she said, "What's The Big Chill?" And then I realized I was 35.

I know everyone always talks about how much they love that scene when they're all sitting around and Kevin Kline puts on the Temptations and they all dance around, but for my money it's when everyone comes down to the kitchen in the morning and gets their running shoes. William Hurt just loved his shoes so much, he said he'd never take them off. And he wore them for the rest of the movie.

All day yesterday I had the Village People song In The Navy stuck in my head. I began to wonder if this meant something. Should I join the Navy? Could I be gay? Would I be the cowboy or the leather guy if I was in the Village People? The questions were endless. I still can't be reached for answers.

Well, now on Day 5 of Bernadette being home in Texas... I was talking to her on the phone tonight, and after a while her mom got on the line from another phone and told us it was time to wrap things up. I immediately felt like I was back in high school, talking on the phone with my friends, when their mom would come on the phone. "Okay Allison, it's time for dinner. Finish up here on the phone." And then we'd go quiet, startled that an adult had gotten onto the phone with us. And then I'd go, "Hi Mrs. Kulbeda." and they'd go, "Hi Josh. We just need her for dinner." Ah, what a happier, simpler time.