Forget bird watching.  I love security-guard watching.

How I wish, how I wish you were here | We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year | Running over the same old ground | What have you found? | The same old fears | Wish you were here

Jan. 9 marks my one month working part time at the University Book Store in Seattle.  I’m the mid-shift concierge.  I tell customers where the restroom is, give out parking validation, and occasionally work the switchboard.  Basically.

Oh, the complexity of dating.

Don’t worry, I’m still searching for a job in the journalism field.  It’s just going slow.  Very slow.  My career has taken a detour in the economic downturn — it’s hitting newspapers especially hard:  The Seattle Times is cutting its staff and rumor is the Seattle Post-Intelligencer is closing — but that’s OK.  I’ll work in a newsroom again.

It’s not easy.

I’ve already got lots and lots of stories from working at the UBookstore.  Mostly, they’re about my inability to inform customers when it’s my job to inform customers.  Seriously, my training was a joke.  I’ve compiled a FAQ list for the store — sort of adding the answers to (strange) questions as I learn them — but it doesn’t help much.  Customers have the knack of asking the questions nobody’s asked me yet.

Will someone please, please, please go to the movie theater and watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button with me?  I’ve wanted to see it ever since Christmas day.  And it’s not just because Brad Pitt is in the film.  He’s an incredible actor, yes, but the story promises to be just as incredible.

I just saw the worst comb-over in the history of comb-overs. Instead of combing the hair from the side of the head over his bald spot, this customer used hair from the back of his head. Pulled from his neck to his forehead, his hair looked like a helmet. And, at his forehead, where you’d expect to see a bang-like falling of hair, he had swooped the ends under in a wave of hair-sprayed wonder. Sadly, his helmet of hair wasn’t doing much to hide his bald spot.

Like that?  Check out http://www.confessionsofaconciergedesk.blogspot.com.  My concierge co-workers and I anonymously blog (read vent) about the goings-on at the UBookstore.

I figured it out:  During the last two months of our relationship, I’d been feeling emotionally isolated.  I’d said it in so many words, but didn’t really pay attention to what was happening.  According to an article in Psychology Today on attachment theory, we’d lost our connection, our link.  Because we were emotionally disconnected, the security of “depending on a partner to respond when you call, to know that you matter to him or her, that you are cherished” wasn’t there.  That feeling of insecurity is very distressing.

Call me Prof. Bruestle.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.  So throw off the bow-lines.  Sail away from the safe harbour.  Catch the trade winds in your sails.  Explore.  Dream.  Discover.” -Mark Twain

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