Ragarding my memory and a proper pick-up line

Dear Haters,

For the past several weeks, I have had difficulty signing on to blogger because (I assume) my internet connection is soooo bootlegged and, therefore, not entirely reliable. Meaning that every time I attempted to post, I would wait for three years for the page to load. And I've had better things to do.

I try to go to the gym regularly, same days, same times. So now I'm getting to know some of the people at the gym. In other words, I'm one of those people. The lady who checks my card knows my name, and I have a gym friend (Herb), and I'm included in everyone's conversations about the weather. I never thought this would happen to me.

As for the gym friend, Herb. We talk about basketball and working out (it's thrilling). The other day, as I was leaving, I told him I'd let him get back to his 8 million mile work out. He explained that his work out was only 30 miles. I explained that I was bad at math and that 8 million and thrity were, more or less, the same in my mind. He took me literally. And explained that 8 million was about 260,000 times more than 30 (he was close; it's 266,666.67 times more than 30, but kudos for getting that close. I couldn't have done it).

Work continues to be a great source of entertainment (as well as frustration). We get to play our own cd's in the store and the other day Not Retarded Kara brought music for us. Which means that I have listened to a Yanni album in its entirety. I stoped it at Inspirational Classics and put on the Flaming Lips, which N.R. Kara loved and asked me to burn for her. What a weird cd collection that will be.

This has come up in conversation several times recently. I thought I'd expound a bit. I never forget a face and I don't often forget names. I can see someone I went to pre-school with and will remember them. While it may sound sort of impressive, it's always a little odd for me to go up to someone and ask them if they went to Fairview Elementary for kindergarten and if so did they have that evil woman of a teacher (whose name, in an odd coincidence, I can't remember). It also turns out that saying "Don't I know you from somewhere" is a pick up line. Which explains why I was trepidatious to mention that I could have sworn I knew one of my regular customers (who also happens to be a relatively good-looking, tall, blonde, young man). I think I actually blushed when I mentioned that I thought I knew him from somewhere. But, honestly, if I was going to use a pick up line on someone, it would be way crazier. A personal favorite: I'm ketchup, you're ketchup, let's be gay ketchup together. (C/o a friend of a friend). Of course, most of the times I've picked guys up, I wasn't even aware that I was doing it. Those kinds of things just sort of pop out at you, I guess.