Lazy cat. The other tiger was walking around sniffing concrete and peeing.
This Fishing Cat, on the Zoo’s Asia Trail, was crouched down for a moment. I foolishly thought it was stalking a mouse or something, when some guy with a different perspective said — loudly — “It’s pooping!”
One of two Bald Eagles at the Zoo — both were injured, and suffered enough damage to their wings to render them flightless. Still very graceful, imposing birds.
A photograph of the photographer and her subject. Charissa has a gorgeous photo of that same lazy tiger: that orange really pops.
So there’s this guy on YouTube — handle: Goldentusk — whose “thing” is making funny videos while putting lyrics to orchestral movie themes. Frankly, I’m a little disappointed by his “Indiana Jones & The Song of Theme”, which doesn’t quite boast the energy of some of Goldentusk’s other videos. Still … lyrics!
At my part-time job, it’s pretty rare for a week to go by without some sort of event — usually, an author will stop by, give a short talk, then bullshit with the audience while he or she signs some copies of her books.
Tomorrow, we’ve got a fucking superstar coming in: Aretha Franklin.
We’ve got a manager whose entire job is to plan and execute events. I mean, she does regular management stuff, too, but whereas other managers are tasked with being focused on merchandising (puts the new books on displays), or operations (makes the schedule), her job is to, y’know, arrange, organize, and be on hand for events in the store (and for that matter for “off-sites.”) She’s been quite busy the last few weeks preparing for Aretha, who will be in to sign her This-Bookstore-Exclusive-Only holiday album (and really, anyone who reads this post and doesn’t know where I’m working within thirty seconds if they’re curious enough to find out must be fucking silly retarded).
As might be expected, they’re planning on a rather large turnout. Look, when they told me she was coming, I got excited, and I don’t own a single Aretha Franklin album. When I told a few people at my day job she was coming, they got excited. When I told a fellow bookseller the next evening, clarified with “…but she won’t be singing”, my colleague exploded in my face: “WILL SHE BE BREATHING!?” Long story short: they’re expecting the place to be fucking mobbed.
So — here’s a side note — at times, I say stuff that I don’t mean to be offensive, but people take in that way. It’s like I’ve got permanent foot-in-mouth syndrome but I don’t know how to take the damn thing out. Apparently, at some point today, I remarked to a coworker that I thought Monday was going to be a “disaster.” And, fortunately for me, our events manager overheard my remark. She confronted me later, saying she didn’t appreciate my remark. Honestly, I don’t even remember having made it (at my day-job, I make copious notes on my work because I could call someone, have a five minute conversation about their role in IT, then call them right back because I’d forgotten that I’d just spoken to them), but, apparently, I did. And she overheard.
Now, I can’t ever recall thinking the event would be a disaster because of any thing the event manager would or wouldn’t do. I sort of think that when you’re going to have a whole ton of people coming to get stuff signed by Aretha Franklin that the store is going to overwhelmed: it’ll all be the customers fault, of course: long lines at the registers, long lines to meet Aretha, people upset if they can’t get their items upset, people more upset if the unthinkable happens and she cancels at the last minute, and people who showed up at 6am and have been in store for four and a half hours realize they wasted most of their day.
I guess I explain my reasoning as “Plan for the best, expect the worst.” Fortunately, by the time I get in to work, Aretha will be gone: Jonathan Alter is doing an event at 6:30 that night. I expect many horror stories about things that went wrong (the list of stuff to have on hand for Aretha Franklin’s appearance is ridiculous: four different caterers, and she wants chili from Ben’s Chili Bowl).
However, after telling me that she didn’t appreciate my remark, she didn’t even provide an opportunity for me to apologize: she just turned and walked away. This probably explains why she was on my case the whole night, but, whatever. This is her last week, and while I’ve tried to get along with her, I just find her management style a little overbearing. (She got mad at me last week when, during the five-minute-to-closing announcement, I told customers the doors would be locked in 300 seconds).
If, by chance, you’re interested in seeing Aretha, this is from the special bookmarks the store printed up for information:
*It’s a ticketed event – wristbands will be distributed denoting one’s place in line, on a first-come, first-served basis beginning at 8am.
*You’ve gotta buy a copy of Aretha’s Christmas CD for a wristband.
*But guess what? This doesn’t actually mean you’ll meet Aretha: only that you’ll have a place in line.
*Aretha will sign the Christmas CD … plus one other! But she won’t sign memorabilia, and she won’t personalize anything, and you can’t take her photo.
