As today was my last official day working at the library, I thought that showing some of the best blogs about the library would a nice note to end on. To my home for the past three years, so long Ryerson.

-8.4.2002
So the other day I was at my job (The library in the Art Institute for those of you who didn't know...those of you who are here from a referral and don't actually know me personally), and some boxes were sent down from the archival people on the 2nd floor. They told us to sort through this one guys crap and seperate the photos from everything else. And the thing is, it really was crap. They had just packed up this guys stuff (the man is now dead by the way) and shipped it to us. So included was the oddest collection of (again) crap. There were random scraps of paper with notes on them, Time magazines from 1983, reciepts from Rainbow Meat Co. when this guy had baught beef, his film developing reciepts, postcards from friends, credit card reciepts ("You think we can still use this credit card number?" a girl I work with asked. "It says it expired in 1979!" I said), and a bunch of other stuff. It was just odd getting a sense of someones life by sorting through all of their saved papers, reading letters friends had sent to them, and seeing notes they had written. It honestly had a deep impact on me: It made me go straight home and clean out all my old crap! I don't want some kids sorting through my shit in 2095!

-1.7.2003
Just an odd little realization: At the special archives table at the library the patron has to fill out a special slip to request books. Among the people who have requested things from the archives...Neil Harris (darn close to Neil Patrick Harris who played Doogie Howser on TV), and also John Ritter (of course sharing the name of the man from Threes Company fame). Oh how I'm looking forward to the day when Gary Coleman comes to request a book.

-1.14.2003
Scene: This morning at work, a woman from the back office comes out with a poster tube.
Woman: We have an extra poster from the Van Gogh exhibit if anybody wants it.
(Everyone shrugs apathetically.)
Woman: (turning to me) You could put it up, add some color to your home! Cover up all those ugly walls you have!
Me: No, that's fine. But thank you for assuming I have ugly walls at home.

-1.19.2003
(The following discussion took place at the library between the old lady who sits at the reception desk, and myself. The topic is the new desk pad.)
Me: Ooh, new pad?
Annie: Uh huh!
Me: It's white.
Annie: Yeah, they couldn't find the good kind.
Me: The good kind?
Annie: The leather kind. We used to have those all the time, but not no more! All because a' 911!
Me: The emergency line?
Annie: No! 911! You know!
Me: September 11th?
Annie: That's right!
Me: We don't have a leather desk pad because of September 11th?
Annie: Yeah! They gotta...use that leather for other stuff!
Me: What? This isn't world war I, we're not rationing.
Annie: You don't know that!
Me: Right. We can no longer find leather desk pads. The terrorists have won.
Annie: Uh huh!
(later that day)
Kaytey: Hey, new desk pad.
Me: Yeah.
Kaytey: Why is it white?
Me: Terrorists.

-6.4.2003
Today in the library a older woman who had just come in walked up to me and asked, "Do you know who did that sculpture over there?" "No, sorry." Then she asked, "Well what about those words written up there? What language are those?" "Um, I don't know." She looked at me with pitty and said, "You must be a volunteer or something."
I was too ashamed to tell her I wasn't. She then turned back to her friends and said, quite audably, "He doesn't know anything." Yeah, my self esteem for the day is down the drain.

-11.6.2003
Scene: Me working at the reception desk at the library today.
Me: Hi, can I help you?
Man: I don't speak English.
Me: Oh, um, did you just want to look at the pictures?
Man: Yes.
Me: Alright, that's fine then.
Man: Thank you.

After the man had left I thought to myself "was that situation a little fishy?"

The other night at work one of the servers was standing next to the bar, flexing his arms obnoxiously.

Server: Do my arms look big?
Me: (annoyed) [server's name], what are you doing?
Server: (not getting it) I lift weights.
Me: No, what are you doing right now?
Server: (really not getting it) Showing you my arms and asking if they look big.
Me: (sigh) Nevermind.

I mean...c'mon!

The other day Kel and I were talking about one of her classes.

Kel: We were talking in class how Jewish guys are stereotypically not very sporty. Which I thought was funny.
Me: Yes. Ha. Funny. Remind me what kind of class this is again?
Kel: Literature of the holocaust.
Me: So why were you talking about how Jewish guys aren't sporty?
Kel: I don't remember. It just came up.
Me: And does your teacher bring up other Jewish stereotypes?
Kel: Yeah, we've talked about some.
Me: I really am starting to not like this woman.
Kel: Why not?
Me: She's bad talking all us Jews.
Kel: She's Jewish!
Me: Uh huh. And clearly she's tired of Jewish men. "They're not sporty at all!"
Kel: Well, (pause) actually she is intermarried.
Me: See! We're not good enough for her! That bitch! (pause) I'm not questioning her teachings on the holocaust, but now she's just bashing Jewish men! Just because she wants to marry some blonde haired, blue eyed football player...
Kel: Oh stop.

"It's about damn time!" some of you may be saying to your screen. Some of you will be saying this because I haven't posted in a while. Others will be saying this because you have dial-up and your internet connection is very slow. For whatever reason...welcome.

As most of you have noticed, I haven't posted in a while. There are several reasons for this. I know it's hard to believe, but sometimes I have an actual life. I don't like to share too much of that (relationships, family stuff, actual work) but I do have it there. Recently I've quit my job at the library at the Art Institute downtown (which I've had for three years) and been promoted to bar manager at the Kit Kat lounge, where I'd previously only been bartending. As this is now more of a grown-up job, I've actually been working 5-7 days a week, mostly long days; not heaps of time for blogging.

I will still try and blog as much as possible, but if there are a few days here and there when I just can't make it, please forgive me.

And for those of you who just can't get enough of a Josh fix from my blog (and those of you who remember when I had a weekly column at SidewinderZine.com), rejoice! I now have a regular column at LifeDuringWartime.net. The column will be up in a few days, but for now tide yourself over with a bio of me at the bottom of the main page (as the featured member). And while you're there read Kaytey's (yes that Kaytey) book review, placed nicely right next to my picture at the bottom of the site.

...Although, I can't imagine who would want more Josh after reading this horribly long post.

This morning I woke up late, and subsequently, was late getting to work. I called Leah while I was on my way, saying I was almost to the train.

Leah: I'd fire you, but you already quit. I can't even torture you anymore.
Me: Nope.
Leah: You don't even care, do you?
Me: Sure I do. I'm still an insecure person who needs validation. You can give that to me.

Later, as I was writing this post Leah was looking over my shoulder.

Leah: Don't you think that's kind of a depressing note to end on?
Me: Eh.
Leah: Well we should add something to put on at the end.

The two of us sat there for a minute. Then I added this stuff. ...It wasn't so much a better note to end on, as a different one.

The other day I was talking to Kel, who is taking a course somehow dealing with Judaism (I forgot how). "Josh," she told me, "I'm worried I don't know enough about Judaism and I'm going to sound stupid in this class." "Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine," I told her. I then offered her my copy of Judaism for Dummies and she declined.

Kel: I mean, I know some Jewish stuff but...
Me: But what?
Kel: I can't say it.
Me: Why not?
Kel: Because you'll put it in the blog and I'll sound stupid.
Me: Oh stop.
Kel: No.
Me: Just tell me.
Kel: ...All my knowlegde of Judaism comes from those episodes of Sex and the City when Charlotte converted.
Me: (pause)Yeah, okay. That is going in the blog.

Today I got a call from Natalie, my liquor rep for Chicago Beverage. I answered the phone, "Josh Eisenberg," and she said, "Hey, it's Natalie from Chicago Beverage. I love your brother!" Not "I got your call," or "How are you doing?" No, she lauched into the brother love right away. I was a bit unsure how to answer that so I just replied, "Well...I love him too."

Only about a week left of the library. So goodbye crazy library patrons...hello crazy liquor reps!

Today is Shane's last day at Kit Kat. As a good friend, he will be missed. As a regular presence in the blog, he will be really missed. A true Shane moment to end on...

The other night at work bottles were sliding a bit on the glass shelf behind the bar. One bottle in particular, the Beefeater Wet, was giving us trouble.

"Stupid bottle," I said. "Must be Wet," Shane said.

So long Shane.

I know I work at a martini bar but...

The other night this woman walked up to the bar and said

Woman: I'd like nine cosmopolitans.
Me: Nine cosmopolitans?
Woman: Yeah, nine cosmopolitans.
Me: (again, for dramatic effect, and doing my impression of the principal in Ferris Bueller's Day Off when he calls Ferris' mom) Nine cosmopolitans?
Woman: (nods)
Me: (shrugs) Alright.

So I made her nine cosmos. She tipped me $20. We all lived happily ever after.

The other night Brad came in to visit me at work.

Brad: You know, Allen's been reading your blog a lot and commenting on it.
Me: Yeah, I've read those.
Brad: He wants you to put a picture of him up.
Me: But he's not really in the blog. I mean, since I put up that list of people with pictures several people have complained to me that they're not in it. Just because you're my friend doesn't mean you make it into the roll call thing. You have to be in the blog to make it up there.
Brad: Well Allen would still like you to put up a picture.
Me: Well this is not a blogocracy. I can do whatever the hell I want. And he's not getting a picture up.

The blog is not going to my head, I swear.

Last week Bernadette and I had rented Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. As a result I repeatedly got the Nazi voice stuck in my head while I was looking for things at work.

Example:
Me: Hmm, where are the grapes. (pause. then, in angry Nazi voice)Vhere ahre za grapes dokor Jonees!

I told Shane about this and we both started talking like angry Nazis.

"Vhere ees zee mango puree for zee drink! You vill tell me dokor Jonees!"

Then Shane told me his story about the time he worked at a restaurant and waited on Harrison Ford, and when he went up to the table asked, "What'll you have Junior?" doing his best Sean Connery impression. Harrison Ford did not seem to be amused.

...Shane is leaving for New York in three days. Oh how my blogs will suffer after he leaves!

The other night at work Megan rushed up to the bar.

Megan: Hand me the Clamato!
Me: (hands her the Clamato)Here.
Megan: Is there clam in this?
Me: (trying not to be mean, considering the fact that "clam" is in the title of the product) It's called clamato.
Megan: Because a friend of mine is a vegan but she gets the bloody martini every time she's here.
Me: Well it says we use Clamato on the menu.
Megan: Well...just hide the Clamato.
Me: Yeah, say we use V-8.
(Megan walks away.)
Me: (sigh) Stupid vegan. I'm not hiding the Clamato.

Several random presidential tidbits from the September issue of Details magazine:

*November 1844 - James K. Polk is elected president. His opponent's slogan was "Who is James K. Polk?"

*November 1868 - Ulyssess S. Grant is arrested for speeding speeding on his horse and fined $20.

*November 1900 - McKinley is re-elected with the slogan "A full dinner pail."

*April 28th, 1947 - Truman puts a bowling alley in the White House.

*Sometime in the 1960 - Lydon Johnsons's lover dumps him, reportedly because she was opposed to the Vietnam War.

*August 11th, 1984 - Reagan accidently quips on air, "We begin bombing Russia in five minutes."

*January 8th, 1992 - George Bush pukes on the Japanese prime minister during a state dinner in Tokyo.

*January 13th, 2002 - George W. Bush chokes on a pretzel while watching a football game and bruises his cheek.

Everyone once and a while people will give me "suggestions" on how to improve my blog. "You should write more stories about me," they'll say, or "Please change the look of your blog (which you stole from me) or I'll sue you." But then occasionally I'll get a good suggestion. Not too long ago someone said I should put up a list of all the people in my blog with a little bio about them so that everyone knows who everyone is. Lets say you really like reading about Leah but really have no idea what role she plays in my life. Well despair no more! Today I present to you, the Blog Roll Call. Enjoy.

Even though he has owned his answering machine for more than a year Helf has refused to record an outgoing message for it. Therefore every time I call I hear, COMPUTERIZED VOICE: The party you have dialed is unavailable. Please leave your message after the tone. (beep!). It's very annoying. So last night I while I was over I recorded a message for him. "Hey, this is Paul and Micah," I said in a deep voice, so as to sound like Paul or Micah, "we're not here right now, leave a message."

Me: See how easy that was.
Helf: I guess.
Me: And do you see how much apathy went into *not* making that message?
Helf: It's not apathy. It's just...why do I care?
Me: That's apathy!

If you want to hear my lovely voice pretending to be Paul or Micah just call 773-281-5218

Today Bernadette and I were walking down the street with the dogs when suddenly "Hey!" was yelled at us out of a UPS truck. We looked up and recognized our UPS guy, who amazingly recognized us too. "Oh...hi," we said back. "I've got a package for you!" he told us. He went into the back of his truck, probably to rummage around for our package, and Bernadette and I just stared at each other, a bit caught off guard. Can a UPS guy just give us our package in the middle of the street? Evidently he could! He reappeared out of the truck with a package and one of those electronic clipboard things to sign.

So Bernadette signed, the guy said goodbye, and we continued walking down the street. You never know when or where UPS will strike!

Tonight at work Byron came up to me and told me a story.

Byron: Okay, so a few weeks ago this guy came in on a half price night and rang up like, an $80 tab. So then we he leaves he writes his number on the back of the check and then tips me like, $4.
Me: Get out!
Byron: So now he's sitting out there again with a friend, and he refuses to look at me.
Me: He won't look at you?
Byron: No! When I asked what they wanted to drink he asked his friend, "What do we want?" and looked away from me.
Me: How rude. Do you want me to spit in their drinks?
Byron: I just don't understand why he would tip less than 10% and leave his number.
Me: Um...maybe he wanted you to call him and then he'd give you the rest of the tip?

The guy eventually ended up leaving before his friend and she tipped very nicely. But if you've ever had the thought, "Hmm, maybe if I tip horribly that cute server will totally call me and go out with me," don't act on it.

The other night at Kit Kat my friend Danny was in having drinks with someone.

Danny: How's Micah?
Me: Oh, he's good. Him and Paul doing well.
Danny: Good. (to friend) I'm sure you know Paul. He works on that boat.
Me: The Odyssey.
Guy: I might.
Danny: Yeah, his name is Paul Helfen. I'm sure with your work you've done business with him before.
Guy: The name sounds familiar. I'm sure if I saw him I'd know him.
Me: He looks kinda like Kevin Bacon.
Guy: Oh! Yeah, okay. I know him.

When I told this story to Shane he commented, "Oh yeah, he does kinda look like Kevin Bacon. I never realized that before."

It's six degrees of Paul Helfen over here!

The other night at the bar there was a little chart detailing what color meant what for gay men, in terms of wristbands or handkerchiefs hanging out of their pockets. For those of your unfamiliar with this, in some gay culture (not just walking down the street, but at certain bars) you can wear a certain color on a bracelet, armband, or handkerchief and that tells what you're into. For example, if you're wearing something that's dark blue, it means you're interested in anal sex. If you're wearing yellow it means that you enjoy water sports (peeing, for those of you who are that clueless). In addition, if you wear the handkerchief or bracelet on the left it means you have a dominant interest in whatever you're into, or if you wear it on the right it means you have a passive interest. For example, the color red means an interest in anal/hand insertion (fisting), and if a man were to wear a red handkerchief on his right side it means he'd like to be the fister, and not the fistee.

But enough about the background!

...Shane and I were looking over the list at work, commenting on how amazing it was that gay people had come up with such a comprehensive system.

Me: Look at what they have!
Shane: All us straight people have is hope.
Me: Yeah. We've really got it rough comparably.
Shane: You have to meet the person and get to know them and even then it's risky asking them to do stuff.
Shane and I working out a conversation: "I...kinda have to go pee...would you...I mean...could I...with...what? No? Oh! Wait! No! Um...Just kidding. Ha! Oops! No, please don't leave. Um...! Okay, okay, fine! We'll have normal sex. Okay. Yay!"
Me: Yeah, that's really the only way you can do it.
Shane: Yeah. No fun at all.
Me: Just a trial by error of finding that one person who likes to...dress up like a pirate to have sex. (pause) And that never works out so you just have to end up taking out an ad in the Reader under the weirdo section and get responses from creepy women named Tanya. It's no good!

Oh, the gays have it so easy!

This morning I rushed to work after waking up late (actually after Bernadette waking me up saying -

Bern: Do you work today?
Me: (half asleep in a stupid daze) Huh?
Bern: It's after 9. Do you work?
Me: I don't know.
Bern: Well if you have to work wake up.
Me: I work at 10.
Bern: Why 10?
Me: ...I don't know.
Bern: Ugh!

- and then storming out of my room in justified frustration and confusion). When I got to work they were filming some of the Roni Horn photographs in the library for a show to be on PBS. "Can we use you for a second?" they asked me. "Um...sure," I said, still disoriented from only being up for half and hour and rushing to work. I was told to stand next to a shelf and read a book as the camera moved around me. "And just sign this release for legal purposes," they told me, handing me a piece of paper when I was done.

That's right. It's a glamorous life when you're an extra in a documentary that's set to air on PBS. For next time I know, If I'm ever on PBS again I'll demand a stretch SUV, some ho's and lots of bling bling. Fo shizzle!

(p.s. Reading this blog after the fact I have no idea how it so quickly was reduced from a simple silly anecdote to a ghetto shout-out. My apologies.)

And now, for the second time in my blog's three year history, today I will have a guest blogger. Enjoy!

I, Leah, am hijacking Josh's blog today. He was going to rant about Britney Spears' used chewing gum being auctioned off on eBay. But who cares! I have a far better tale to tell...

For the past few weeks there have been representatives from the Democratic National Comittee trying to collect donations from people on the street in front of the museum. They all wear cute little red t-shirts with DNC printed on the back, and they carry very official looking clip boards. So one day, about two weeks ago, a particularly lovely DNC volunteer caught Josh's eye. Suddenly he felt his patriotism like he had never felt it before. His love of America swelled in his designer jeans until it was ready to burst. The spirit of his forefathers - Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Ron Jeremy - moved him to give the DNC vixen his phone number, credit card number, and a commitment of $40 to the John Kerry for President fund.

Two weeks later, there has been no further sign of the cute volunteer and no charges applied to Josh's credit card. Today at lunch Maggie asked Josh "If he had heard back from the $40 girl yet", which caused Nathaniel and I to choke on our sandwiches as we laughed. By now, Josh's credit card and the cute DNC girl have probably escaped to Sweden.

If you're cute enough, and willing to stand around outside holding a clipboard, the world is truly your oyster.

This is the woman I work for! Do you see what I have to deal with?

Yesterday I was talking to Micah and I mentioned how Monday I had gotten an e-mail and a phone call from two different people saying how much they loved my blog.

Me: It makes me worried.
Micah: Why?
Me: Well just the whole thing of, your work only really gets appreciated after your dead. Maybe I'm going to die soon. ...Or maybe I'm already dead, but I'm like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense and I don't even know it!
Micah: (pause) That's odd, I thought I just heard a voice. But it's just me in the car. (shrugs)