Those of you who pay attention to the side rail of this blog will notice that I've been reading a lot lately. This, too, is related to The Wedding (when my sister moved to her fiance's house, she got rid of books, and I took everything by Agatha Christie, which means I must read it all immediately), but that's beside the point.
The point is this:
When you live alone in a house that creaks some and has mice a little, and you already have an overactive imagination, it does not matter how brilliant a storyteller Ms. Christie is. You must put down And Then There Were None well before bedtime.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Wedding
Sorry to have been so sporadic with the posting lately.
The Wedding is coming up.
My sister is getting married May 10 (coincidentally, the same day Jenna Bush is).
My sister and her fiance are both very low-key, down-to-earth people. This wedding is being held in a church 40 minutes away from my house, with a reception in the parish hall across the street. I am doing practically nothing for this wedding, though my mother is doing an incredible amount of work and my sister, obviously, is, too. I am the maid of honor, but have been relieved of some of the traditional obligations (my sister wants neither shower nor bachelorette party, for example).
I cannot quite figure out how it has managed to consume nearly every waking moment for me, but it has. I am, it should be said, very, very excited. But still.
I now think in terms of things that must happen Before The Wedding and things that will have to wait until After The Wedding. Most of these things are entirely unrelated to The Wedding, except to me.
Some examples:
Before The Wedding
The Wedding is coming up.
My sister is getting married May 10 (coincidentally, the same day Jenna Bush is).
My sister and her fiance are both very low-key, down-to-earth people. This wedding is being held in a church 40 minutes away from my house, with a reception in the parish hall across the street. I am doing practically nothing for this wedding, though my mother is doing an incredible amount of work and my sister, obviously, is, too. I am the maid of honor, but have been relieved of some of the traditional obligations (my sister wants neither shower nor bachelorette party, for example).
I cannot quite figure out how it has managed to consume nearly every waking moment for me, but it has. I am, it should be said, very, very excited. But still.
I now think in terms of things that must happen Before The Wedding and things that will have to wait until After The Wedding. Most of these things are entirely unrelated to The Wedding, except to me.
Some examples:
Before The Wedding
- get a haircut
- hang pictures
- get dryer
- get dishwasher
- go to Nashua
- move furniture
- figure out placecard thing
- finish viewbook at work
- tame blackberry bushes in backyard
- examine the feng shui of my house
- make skirts
- register for summer classes
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Anyone know...
...why I would have "Livin' on a Prayer" stuck in my head?
I dislike it.
I am inclined to blame nyczoo; she's often responsible for this kind of thing. But I don't think it's her fault this time.
You know what is her fault? That I know about, and therefore must share with everyone, this:
People who have ever been to summer camp may find this familiar. Then again, if they went to that one place I love, they may not, as that may be the only camp I've been to that doesn't do that song.
I dislike it.
I am inclined to blame nyczoo; she's often responsible for this kind of thing. But I don't think it's her fault this time.
You know what is her fault? That I know about, and therefore must share with everyone, this:
People who have ever been to summer camp may find this familiar. Then again, if they went to that one place I love, they may not, as that may be the only camp I've been to that doesn't do that song.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Thank you for your support
I went to college in the late 1980s, into the early 1990s, which was, I believe, the heyday of the wine cooler.
And most of my women friends didn't drink a whole lot in college, and neither did I. But we had a wine cooler or two, here and there.
Today, I was looking at the blog of one of those women friends, now a woman in her 30s, a wife, mother, artist, business owner, and I noticed this on her Twitter feed:
It also brought up, and not for the first time this month, the time she was dared to bring a wine cooler to her logic class (at, I want to say, 9 a.m.) and drink it. Dare accepted, her parents (and children) would be proud to know.
And most of my women friends didn't drink a whole lot in college, and neither did I. But we had a wine cooler or two, here and there.
Today, I was looking at the blog of one of those women friends, now a woman in her 30s, a wife, mother, artist, business owner, and I noticed this on her Twitter feed:
Completely caught-up business-wise, I'm kicking back tonight with a copy of Artful Blogging. Love this mag. Think I need a wine cooler.It made me almost alarmingly happy. She claims to me now, in IM, that she only has about one every three months, but still, it pleases me to know that she still drinks them. It feels like there is some continuity in the universe.
It also brought up, and not for the first time this month, the time she was dared to bring a wine cooler to her logic class (at, I want to say, 9 a.m.) and drink it. Dare accepted, her parents (and children) would be proud to know.
When the spit hits the fan
I know, it must seem like I romanticize my new Northern life sometimes. And probably, I do. But it's not all cheap drink prices and fried clams and houses a person can afford to buy up here.
#1 on the list of things that I am more likely to see up here than in the big city, and that I could totally do without:
#1 on the list of things that I am more likely to see up here than in the big city, and that I could totally do without:
- Boys who dip.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Warm and clammy
One of the random things I missed about New England while I was gone was fried seafood, which I hardly ever eat. I don't like it all that much, actually, and it's bad for me. But now and then, specifically in the summer, I crave it in some deep part of my soul.
Up here (and in parts of New Jersey, and probably in lots of other places), they have these divey seafood restaurants and stands where you can get a paper box of fried something or steamed something else, or maybe you will put your fried something in a hot dog bun and call it a "roll." You probably eat it with french fries. I have inherited at least some of my taste and language around these delicacies from my great grandmother, who had strong opinions, and who was born in the 1870s, so this has been a thing for some time. In my family, we use terms like "neck" and "sweater" to talk about clams, and I am pretty sure clams actually have neither necks nor sweaters. The fried clams that you get many places are inadequate. They are actually fried clam strips. Lots of neck, no belly. What you want is whole-belly fried clams, or what's the point?
This is all a long way to say that this week, they are serving whole-belly fried clam rolls at the dining commons on campus, and I know, once again, that I am home.
Up here (and in parts of New Jersey, and probably in lots of other places), they have these divey seafood restaurants and stands where you can get a paper box of fried something or steamed something else, or maybe you will put your fried something in a hot dog bun and call it a "roll." You probably eat it with french fries. I have inherited at least some of my taste and language around these delicacies from my great grandmother, who had strong opinions, and who was born in the 1870s, so this has been a thing for some time. In my family, we use terms like "neck" and "sweater" to talk about clams, and I am pretty sure clams actually have neither necks nor sweaters. The fried clams that you get many places are inadequate. They are actually fried clam strips. Lots of neck, no belly. What you want is whole-belly fried clams, or what's the point?
This is all a long way to say that this week, they are serving whole-belly fried clam rolls at the dining commons on campus, and I know, once again, that I am home.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Crazy hungry
Actual conversation with a coworker, moments ago:
Me: What are you doing for lunch?
She: I feel like I ought to start the week eating healthy. I kind of want to walk to Panera. Call me crazy, but ...
Me: OK, Crazybutt.
To be fair, that is my sister's joke, from when she was 12. But I still love it.
Me: What are you doing for lunch?
She: I feel like I ought to start the week eating healthy. I kind of want to walk to Panera. Call me crazy, but ...
Me: OK, Crazybutt.
To be fair, that is my sister's joke, from when she was 12. But I still love it.
Long-overdue updates
- On this: Sorry I didn't get around to posting this update later that night. Somehow, there was another luau Friday, too. Seriously.
- On this: Mike C. just showed up, about two days after I gave him the URL to this blog, with my blue marker (which he deposited in my office) and a theory (which I had to chase him down to get). Mind you, this marker was not spotted in his office, he just swiped it back for me. So far, I think there has been no backlash. Mike's theory: Some folks were "whiteboarding," (Oh, Mike. Whiteboard as a verb? Really?) and needed a marker, and borrowed mine, and never brought it back. They last whiteboarded a month and a half ago, and therefore probably do not really need to own my blue marker. Also, I now have roughly a thousand beautiful colors of dry-erase markers procured for me by one of my big-city friends. They do not have erasers in the cap, but they are nonetheless awesome, and I predict when things slow down around here, they will be involved in a dry-erase mural of some kind.
- On weather: The weather here has been gorgeous and sunny, in the 60s and 70s. It still gets cold overnight, and when I drove by Dublin Lake at 7:40 a.m. on Saturday and 1 p.m. on Sunday, it was still at least somewhat frozen, but I am not swimming in it.
- On this: I have plugged in a mouse repellent that works by vibrating the wiring in my house. So far, it seems to be working. No evidence of death, and no evidence of mice.
- On this: Yesterday, I went to Wal-Mart, Target, Building #19, Sears, and Ocean State Job Lots, plus the web sites of several other businesses, looking for a grill, a set of patio furniture, and a hammock. I found a grill at Ocean State Job Lots that would have been perfect, but that I did not buy because I thought I could do better. Wrong. I found two adequate grills and a perfect set of patio furniture at Wal-Mart, and bought none of them because they were out of stock. I found an adequate hammock at Target and did not buy it because it cost $100, and I am not paying $100 for adequate.
- On this: Hippie Birkenstock Silver Jewelry Guy has been supplanted, or perhaps supplemented, by Hippie Birkenstock Tapestry and Flowy Skirt Gal.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Black and blue
I'm sorry I didn't post yesterday. There was a luau — I don't know, it's complicated. I'll try to post more tonight.
But I wanted to show you the dry-erase board from my office:
for two reasons.
But I wanted to show you the dry-erase board from my office:
for two reasons.
- In my awesome color-coded organizational system, this week's to-dos are in black. There is a lot of black on that board. Busy week.
- Though there is less of it, you will observe some blue, which is next week's color. That's right, blue. More on this later.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Tales from the bar
I realize that CMC is in danger of becoming a blog about weather and drink prices, and that would be too bad.
But if you'll indulge me for a moment.
There is a bar up here that I have avoided since I moved back, for several reasons:
Tonight, I could avoid it no longer. I did not order a mojito even though I sort of wanted one. That expensive mojito? $5.50. That's not a special; that is what a full price mojito costs.
These people just don't know what they've got. In the big city, I would have paid easily $9 for that drink, $13 if I'd been in an "expensive" bar. Of course, I did not have one, and had a $4 Magic Hat #9 instead, because I love #9 and there's a summer full of mojitos ahead.
Also, as I was leaving, I saw a round piece of plastic on the floor and put it on the table. A friend I was out with asked if that was a Round Tuit, and I fake-laughed for a long time. Normally, that would not be something I'd mention in this space, but this time, this friend said he expected to read about it on City Mouse Country, and the vaudeville performers who raised me always said, "you've gotta give the people what they want."
Come to think, so did the French whore who I used to bum cigarettes from, but she said it with an accent.
But if you'll indulge me for a moment.
There is a bar up here that I have avoided since I moved back, for several reasons:
- It's where my favorite wings joint used to be, and I am still bitter
- It specializes in foofy drinks with silly names and things they call "martinis" because they are in martini glasses
- It has a reputation for being the "expensive" bar in town
Tonight, I could avoid it no longer. I did not order a mojito even though I sort of wanted one. That expensive mojito? $5.50. That's not a special; that is what a full price mojito costs.
These people just don't know what they've got. In the big city, I would have paid easily $9 for that drink, $13 if I'd been in an "expensive" bar. Of course, I did not have one, and had a $4 Magic Hat #9 instead, because I love #9 and there's a summer full of mojitos ahead.
Also, as I was leaving, I saw a round piece of plastic on the floor and put it on the table. A friend I was out with asked if that was a Round Tuit, and I fake-laughed for a long time. Normally, that would not be something I'd mention in this space, but this time, this friend said he expected to read about it on City Mouse Country, and the vaudeville performers who raised me always said, "you've gotta give the people what they want."
Come to think, so did the French whore who I used to bum cigarettes from, but she said it with an accent.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
My mother's daughter
How many shelves full of curtains do you have in your linen closet? Is it less than three? Does three shelves full of curtains you're not currently using in your house seem like a lot?
Yeah, I was afraid of that.
Yeah, I was afraid of that.
Naming rights
So, some of my D.C. friends who are native New Englanders and I used to joke about the people we knew in common (who we didn't, actually, know in common) because of their New Englandy names. By New Englandy, of course, I mean French Canadian (Thibodeau), Irish (Sully and Doyle) and Italian (Girardi, pronounced Jirahdee).
Here is a phenomenon I don't totally understand: I don't think I knew anyone named "Andy" in D.C. I know, or know of, several up here. What do you think that's about? If you're reading this and named Andy, comment, please, and tell us where you're from.
Those of you who spend a lot of time in the comments might have discerned that I have a lot of people named "Mike" prominently in my life. It's true, and not all of them comment here, either. There are also several Bills. Both Mikes and Bills exist in both places, though.
I only know one boy named Sue, for the record, but she is neither a boy nor named Sue.
Here is a phenomenon I don't totally understand: I don't think I knew anyone named "Andy" in D.C. I know, or know of, several up here. What do you think that's about? If you're reading this and named Andy, comment, please, and tell us where you're from.
Those of you who spend a lot of time in the comments might have discerned that I have a lot of people named "Mike" prominently in my life. It's true, and not all of them comment here, either. There are also several Bills. Both Mikes and Bills exist in both places, though.
I only know one boy named Sue, for the record, but she is neither a boy nor named Sue.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Happiness is...
Sometime in the first season of Friends, Phoebe dates this therapist, Roger, who everyone else hates because he's so that guy, and at one point, when he has made Monica feel all sad and inadequate, she has a cookie, and he says on his way out the door, "Mon? Remember, they're just cookies. They're not love."
In completely unrelated news, today at the Student Center, there are free Choco Tacos, and I cannot remember when a bad mood has lifted more quickly.
Mmmm, Choco Taco.
In completely unrelated news, today at the Student Center, there are free Choco Tacos, and I cannot remember when a bad mood has lifted more quickly.
Mmmm, Choco Taco.
Look who's in the big town
So I was back in D.C. for an incredible whirlwind tour of about 40 hours (gasp), and, gotta say, it was fascinating to do it with a group of people, most of whom have not been to D.C. or who have been only on their eighth-grade class trip.
Some of the things that blow me away about D.C. that also impress or surprise people who've hardly been there:
Some of the things that at some point stopped blowing me away (in some cases, when I was 7) that impress or surprise some of the people who've hardly been there:
Some of the things that blow me away about D.C. that also impress or surprise people who've hardly been there:
- The Holocaust museum
- The Chinatown arch
- How walkable a city it is
- The cherry blossoms
- All the blossoms, actually
Some of the things that at some point stopped blowing me away (in some cases, when I was 7) that impress or surprise some of the people who've hardly been there:
- How expensive drinks are
- That the Capitol and the White House are not the same thing
- That the Capitol and the White House are kind of far apart
- T-shirt vendors
- The Cherry Blossom Festival
- Starbucks
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Country Mouse
Yes, I get the irony.
So, I have mice.
For a while, we have been semi-peacefully cohabitating, because I could not bring myself to snap the necks of creatures that are not doing me any real harm, and I could not bring myself to buy Havahart traps intending to release these creatures to their deaths of hypothermia, but now, it's springish, and they are on my last nerve, and I am ready to get rid of them.
Not quite neck-snapping ready or poison ready, but ready nonetheless.
Any thoughts? Havahart? Sonic mouse repellent? Any particular brands you recommend?
Oh, and there will be no cats involved in this process. I am allergic, but that's not why. I would just rather deal with live mice than tortured uneaten dead ones that someone presents as a gift. Shudder.
Oh, and cousins who are coming to stay with me next month? Don't worry; I'm sure they'll all be gone by then. No, really.
So, I have mice.
For a while, we have been semi-peacefully cohabitating, because I could not bring myself to snap the necks of creatures that are not doing me any real harm, and I could not bring myself to buy Havahart traps intending to release these creatures to their deaths of hypothermia, but now, it's springish, and they are on my last nerve, and I am ready to get rid of them.
Not quite neck-snapping ready or poison ready, but ready nonetheless.
Any thoughts? Havahart? Sonic mouse repellent? Any particular brands you recommend?
Oh, and there will be no cats involved in this process. I am allergic, but that's not why. I would just rather deal with live mice than tortured uneaten dead ones that someone presents as a gift. Shudder.
Oh, and cousins who are coming to stay with me next month? Don't worry; I'm sure they'll all be gone by then. No, really.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
An open letter to my sister's future mother-in-law
I do not know how you knew that what I wanted more than anything was a tiger/leopard/snakeskin-patterned sarong, as I did not at all know it myself.
But thank you for bringing it to me from Indonesia, because I love it very, very much.
And wear it, a lot, even if just over my jeans and around my house for right now. It's beautiful.
But thank you for bringing it to me from Indonesia, because I love it very, very much.
And wear it, a lot, even if just over my jeans and around my house for right now. It's beautiful.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Oops
If you see this headline:
Lucas sues Brit over 'Star Wars' outfits
don't worry. It's about some guy from the UK, not Britney Spears, even though that would be more interesting. It's probably the use of the word "outfits" that threw you. They actually mean "Stormtrooper uniforms."Boosting
If you are looking for:
If, on the other hand, you're just looking to support all that wonderfulness and you're in or near southwestern NH, try the Mountainfilm Festival this Friday night. It looks like it might be outstanding, and proceeds will benefit that place I know.
- A residential summer camp for your kids
- A one-week "starter" residential camp, with counselors who are mostly parents themselves, for a 7-10-year old
- A day camp in southwestern New Hampshire
- Adventure programs for older kids (to places like Hawaii and Colorado, for Pete's sake)
- Summer jobs for people of good character who are out of high school (especially guys)
- A family camp where folks of all ages can sleep in cabins and do summer-campy stuff, without anyone having to worry about cooking or dishes
If, on the other hand, you're just looking to support all that wonderfulness and you're in or near southwestern NH, try the Mountainfilm Festival this Friday night. It looks like it might be outstanding, and proceeds will benefit that place I know.
Monday, April 7, 2008
The power of cynical thinking
I have given up on thinking I can make spring happen by dressing for warmer weather.
I've moved on to thinking I can make spring happen by buying a grill and a hammock, maybe some patio furniture.
The fact that my first attempt at this required me to drive through snow and sleet to Ocean State Job Lots, where I did not, in fact, find a grill or hammock or patio furniture that I liked might not bode well.
I've moved on to thinking I can make spring happen by buying a grill and a hammock, maybe some patio furniture.
The fact that my first attempt at this required me to drive through snow and sleet to Ocean State Job Lots, where I did not, in fact, find a grill or hammock or patio furniture that I liked might not bode well.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
'Za
Pizza up here is different.
It's greasy, and yummy, and mostly made by Greeks (My favorite place as a kid was Danos; in my current town, the place to go is Athens. Amici's is good, too, but it's not Greek and much New Yorkier).
You can always get a good Greek salad with good Greek dressing to go with it.
You can always get anchovies if you want them.
For a while, people up here called it "'za," although I haven't heard that lately.
There's a different flavor to it, too, and I learned what the secret is from my friend Billy just before I moved away to Washington: cheddar cheese mixed in with the mozzarella. That accounts both for the greasiness and for the yumminess.
Also, I am eating it for breakfast this morning.
It's greasy, and yummy, and mostly made by Greeks (My favorite place as a kid was Danos; in my current town, the place to go is Athens. Amici's is good, too, but it's not Greek and much New Yorkier).
You can always get a good Greek salad with good Greek dressing to go with it.
You can always get anchovies if you want them.
For a while, people up here called it "'za," although I haven't heard that lately.
There's a different flavor to it, too, and I learned what the secret is from my friend Billy just before I moved away to Washington: cheddar cheese mixed in with the mozzarella. That accounts both for the greasiness and for the yumminess.
Also, I am eating it for breakfast this morning.
Friday, April 4, 2008
CK obsession
Most of my readers are non-local to where I live, and that's fine. Desireable, even. But this post is largely for my Monadnock-region-based friends (and stalkers).
A friend of mine has started a social network site called Citizen Keene, to keep people up on what's going on in the region, including but not limited to live music, local politics, the number of crashes in the roundabouts, etc. It's worth checking out, and it's worth joining if you live in these parts or have a vested interest in what's going on in these parts, even from far away. I've put a badge on the right side of this page, for ease of navigation.
You know me, I'm always looking for community. How thoughtful of Mike to just build me one.
If you need or want to do the same for some community you're a part of, Mike used ning, and I think he's happy with it.
I'll be back to the funny soon, really. In weather news, I watched maybe a dozen robins hop around this morning in the fresh snowfall from last night. Think that about sums it up.
A friend of mine has started a social network site called Citizen Keene, to keep people up on what's going on in the region, including but not limited to live music, local politics, the number of crashes in the roundabouts, etc. It's worth checking out, and it's worth joining if you live in these parts or have a vested interest in what's going on in these parts, even from far away. I've put a badge on the right side of this page, for ease of navigation.
You know me, I'm always looking for community. How thoughtful of Mike to just build me one.
If you need or want to do the same for some community you're a part of, Mike used ning, and I think he's happy with it.
I'll be back to the funny soon, really. In weather news, I watched maybe a dozen robins hop around this morning in the fresh snowfall from last night. Think that about sums it up.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Sole arbiter=taste
Got this e-mail yesterday:
And still, it took me a minute. I discarded a bunch of stuff by John Donne and Christina Rossetti and Alix Olson. I tried unsuccessfully to find something by Luis Alberto Urrea to love as much as his prose. I remembered, eventually, that Langston Hughes's "Theme for English B" used to be very important to me, and remembered even after that that some of my own friends, including the author of the e-mail, are poets who used to write things that I loved, but haven't read in years and years.
I pick "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg. I love me some Beat poets.
So if you were going to something like this, tonight, what would you bring?
I was just thinking of you because I'm planning to go to a "read your favorite poem" event tonight. ... I'm not reading because I don't really know what my favorite poem is. Now, I realize that no one else would know or care if I just read one of the poems of which I'm particularly fond, but by the time this idea had occurred to me the deadline for declaring oneself as a reader had passed. I'm taking along "Dreamwood" by Adrienne Rich just in case they happen to have on-the-spot reading opportunities. So I was wondering — have you ever been to such an event and, if so, what did you read?I haven't, actually, been to such an event but I love the idea very, very much. I was equally baffled by the idea of a "favorite," but I think my friend makes a good point about how no one can (or will) judge that. It's OK to pick something you like as much as you like other poems, or even just one you like today. It's not a commitment for life.
And still, it took me a minute. I discarded a bunch of stuff by John Donne and Christina Rossetti and Alix Olson. I tried unsuccessfully to find something by Luis Alberto Urrea to love as much as his prose. I remembered, eventually, that Langston Hughes's "Theme for English B" used to be very important to me, and remembered even after that that some of my own friends, including the author of the e-mail, are poets who used to write things that I loved, but haven't read in years and years.
I pick "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg. I love me some Beat poets.
So if you were going to something like this, tonight, what would you bring?
Sweating the almost unbelievably small stuff
So when I got to this new job, I inherited a smallish, dirtyish white board from someone else. That's fine with me.
Here's how I immediately planned to use it:
I would get a bunch of different-colored dry-erase markers, and then color-code my to-do list. Each week would be a different color, and the colors would rotate, and I would always know what I had to do when. There have since been asterisk-based additions to the system, as well as a code of crossing out and erasing.
So.
I asked for a bunch of dry-erase markers.
The woman who is supposed to obtain them assured me she would, soon. After a while, she brought me one brown dry-erase marker as a stopgap, and asked what else I needed. I needed four or five markers, in assorted colors.
After a while longer, she came through big-time, and presented me with a four-pack of the best dry-erase markers I've ever seen, in red, blue, green and black. They write well, and they have erasers right in the caps, and they look like microphones, although I am obviously not singing into my dry-erase markers at work, really, I'm not. So at this point I have five colors, although if I can avoid using the brown one, which is both ugly and just not as good a marker, I will do that.
And then, almost immediately, my blue marker disappeared. I looked everywhere for it. It was just gone. One of my coworkers said, "I blame [other coworker]. Of course, I blame [other coworker] for everything." This is chuckle-worthy because [other coworker] is just a basically good guy, who I don't interact with too much, but who clearly is not breaking into my office to steal my markers.
About a month and a half has gone by since the mysterious disappearance of the blue marker, and I have gotten used to not having it. It means my color-coded system is red, green, black and brown, which sometimes looks like Christmas but often just looks yucky. But that's OK. It's functional. The color-coding works. It doesn't fill my soul with joy at its pure aesthetics, but it is keeping me organized, which is a minor miracle.
And then.
And then I was in [other coworker]'s office last week, and there, plain as day, was my one blue marker.
And now I am obsessed. Not so much with how it got there, although that is a puzzle (Did [other coworker] actually break into my office to take it? Did [other coworker] assert to the person responsible for procuring markers that he needed one, and she decided since I had four others that I wouldn't miss the blue one?). No, I am obsessed because I want it back now, a lot, and cannot for the life of me figure out how to make that happen. I can't ask for it, because thatseems is petty and weird. I obviously cannot steal it back. I truly do not believe that there was or would have been any malice involved. But — but I want it.
So, my friends, I think I am going to have to go out myself and buy another blue marker if I can find it, another four-pack if necessary. Because this is just completely out of hand.
4/10 update for my friends who are not [other coworker]: Tonight I was out at the local watering hole with some friends including but not limited to [other coworker], and the fact that I have a blog sort of came up, which it mostly hasn't at my current place of employment. Immediately, I worried about this post and one other that maybe no one will see or, if they do, be bothered by. It feels somehow unethical to take this post down, though. I mean, it's the Internet. I knew it was possible that anyone could see anything I wrote, including my irrational pen ravings, right? Plus, maybe if I make this post really, really long, no one will want to read it anymore and I won't be all embarrassed by it.
4/10 update for my friend who is [other coworker]: If you've read this far, you know that I am absolutely crazy and not to be trusted with any more markers than I already have. Who knows what I'm doing with them? But I think my friends are all a little curious. So, I'll make you a deal: You keep the marker, but please post a comment here to let me know how you came by it and if it is, in fact, the missing marker from my set or if she just bought us the same markers.
Here's how I immediately planned to use it:
I would get a bunch of different-colored dry-erase markers, and then color-code my to-do list. Each week would be a different color, and the colors would rotate, and I would always know what I had to do when. There have since been asterisk-based additions to the system, as well as a code of crossing out and erasing.
So.
I asked for a bunch of dry-erase markers.
The woman who is supposed to obtain them assured me she would, soon. After a while, she brought me one brown dry-erase marker as a stopgap, and asked what else I needed. I needed four or five markers, in assorted colors.
After a while longer, she came through big-time, and presented me with a four-pack of the best dry-erase markers I've ever seen, in red, blue, green and black. They write well, and they have erasers right in the caps, and they look like microphones, although I am obviously not singing into my dry-erase markers at work, really, I'm not. So at this point I have five colors, although if I can avoid using the brown one, which is both ugly and just not as good a marker, I will do that.
And then, almost immediately, my blue marker disappeared. I looked everywhere for it. It was just gone. One of my coworkers said, "I blame [other coworker]. Of course, I blame [other coworker] for everything." This is chuckle-worthy because [other coworker] is just a basically good guy, who I don't interact with too much, but who clearly is not breaking into my office to steal my markers.
About a month and a half has gone by since the mysterious disappearance of the blue marker, and I have gotten used to not having it. It means my color-coded system is red, green, black and brown, which sometimes looks like Christmas but often just looks yucky. But that's OK. It's functional. The color-coding works. It doesn't fill my soul with joy at its pure aesthetics, but it is keeping me organized, which is a minor miracle.
And then.
And then I was in [other coworker]'s office last week, and there, plain as day, was my one blue marker.
And now I am obsessed. Not so much with how it got there, although that is a puzzle (Did [other coworker] actually break into my office to take it? Did [other coworker] assert to the person responsible for procuring markers that he needed one, and she decided since I had four others that I wouldn't miss the blue one?). No, I am obsessed because I want it back now, a lot, and cannot for the life of me figure out how to make that happen. I can't ask for it, because that
So, my friends, I think I am going to have to go out myself and buy another blue marker if I can find it, another four-pack if necessary. Because this is just completely out of hand.
4/10 update for my friends who are not [other coworker]: Tonight I was out at the local watering hole with some friends including but not limited to [other coworker], and the fact that I have a blog sort of came up, which it mostly hasn't at my current place of employment. Immediately, I worried about this post and one other that maybe no one will see or, if they do, be bothered by. It feels somehow unethical to take this post down, though. I mean, it's the Internet. I knew it was possible that anyone could see anything I wrote, including my irrational pen ravings, right? Plus, maybe if I make this post really, really long, no one will want to read it anymore and I won't be all embarrassed by it.
4/10 update for my friend who is [other coworker]: If you've read this far, you know that I am absolutely crazy and not to be trusted with any more markers than I already have. Who knows what I'm doing with them? But I think my friends are all a little curious. So, I'll make you a deal: You keep the marker, but please post a comment here to let me know how you came by it and if it is, in fact, the missing marker from my set or if she just bought us the same markers.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Just foolin'
Me, I love an un-mean prank.
Love, love, love.
Not as much as my sister, for whom today is a little bit of a religious holiday*, but still, a lot.
So here's what I've seen and loved so far today:
What have you got? What wackiness is your college newspaper up to today? Who wrapped someone's office in bubble wrap? Tell me in the comments.
Alternately, recount your favorite old prank stories. Obviously, extra points if I am in those stories.
*Said sister, in fact, has a sort of sacred shoebox in her closet, filled with wondrous things, including but not limited to squirt office supplies (stapler, calculator, etc.) and plastic ants. This is not the only day on which these artifacts are used ritually, but it is certainly a big one for her.
Love, love, love.
Not as much as my sister, for whom today is a little bit of a religious holiday*, but still, a lot.
So here's what I've seen and loved so far today:
What have you got? What wackiness is your college newspaper up to today? Who wrapped someone's office in bubble wrap? Tell me in the comments.
Alternately, recount your favorite old prank stories. Obviously, extra points if I am in those stories.
*Said sister, in fact, has a sort of sacred shoebox in her closet, filled with wondrous things, including but not limited to squirt office supplies (stapler, calculator, etc.) and plastic ants. This is not the only day on which these artifacts are used ritually, but it is certainly a big one for her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
