update from Louisville... Kentucky.

Ok, first things first. Remember last year when Bruce sent me candy bars to Florida? I need to once again laud him for his acute "best kind of friend a person could have"-edness. Now I've had a rough couple of weeks. Last week I spent about 20 hours a day on the couch, leaving only once day to go to yoga, shower, and get back on the couch. I spoke to very few people and I saw no one. Saturday I finally had to drag myself back into the land of the living, and fly to Louisville, so I forced myself to get up, pack, actually blow-dry my hair and put on makeup, and am ready with about 10 minutes to spare (never happens). Out of nowhere, there's a knock on my door (also never happens). I open it to see Bruce standing there! I haven't talked to him in forever, probably haven't seen him in at least 6-8 months. So I just kind of stammer "What are you doing here?" and he says, "well, I was sort of in the area, and you seemed like you have been having a bad week, so I thought I'd come over and give you a hug." I literally burst into tears. I was like, "well, I need to leave for the airport in 10 minutes," and he said "that's exactly how much time I have." So, we chatted for 10 minutes (and hugged like, 5 times) and I left for the airport, my faith in humanity completely restored.

Thank you, Danael. There are no words to explain how much that little gesture meant to me.

Next... there are some crazy crazies here in Louisville, Kentucky. I can't get over the accent, to begin with, and I hail from a great land of Southern accents myself. A few examples of the Kentucky-Crazy:

• on Saturday night, a bunch of sad, trashy, 40-something year old women asked me to put a quarter (or a penny... she kept saying "a quarter or a penny"... the hell?) in their bras. Apparently they were on some sort of sad, trashy, 40-something year old bachelorette party scavenger hunt, which I'm pretty sure females over the age of 22 should never do.
• at a bar where my co-worker and I were eating, I push the candle in front of me to the right about 4 inches, and the older African-American gentlemen 2 stools down says "Have you ever poured hot candle wax or had hot wax poured on you during love-making?" Ummm, the hell??? If I did, sir, do you think I would tell a complete stranger about it at a bar? Also, love-making? Who the hell says that?? And that's the only thing he said to me all night long. Completely bizarre.
• yesterday a man came by the service desk and told me he had my name tattoo'd on his arm. He lift up his shirt sleeve to reveal a big heart with a scrolling banner across the bottom that says "your name." Seriously. "Your name." Tattoo'd on his arm. As in, permanently. Again, I say... the hell?

The workers here kept talking to me at length in their Kentucky-Crazy accents about nothing. Last night some dude talked to me for like 15 minutes about how disappointed he was when he "wasted 10 whole dollars" at Southfork, like I personally had something to do with it, and this morning a lady teamster talked to me forever about her 14-hour shift at Caesar's last night. I have a mound of paperwork on my desk (and yet... I'm blogging) and kept myself very busy the entire time she was lurking around my desk... like, seriously? Do I look inviting to you?? Because most all over these great United States, people b*tch at me for being standoffish, or anti-social, or how I need to frakkin' SMILE (one of my greatest grievances in life), but apparently in Kentucky, my face says "bring me the crazy."

So anyway, happy Monday. A best-of-times-worst-of-times dual-story day about how awesome people are and how crazy people are, all at the same time.