Hold me closer, tiny pantser

This story told in honor of Adam Brecher and Steve Davolt:

So, last night I had a few people over for pancakes, because it was Shrove Tuesday, and that's what I do. People had a good but not raucous time; there have been Shrove Tuesdays, for example, that involved my guests belly-dancing. That did not happen this year. There was a mix of kids and adults, and many of the adults had a beer or two, but no one got too crazy, because it was a Tuesday night and we're getting older. It was really a very nice time.

But the line of the evening came as my last two guests were getting ready to go. One of my favorite former campers from Cabin 11 got to the entryway and said:
"Wait, what's this? Why are there tiny pants on my shoes?"

I do not at all know the answer to that question, but the tiny pants in question are now in my office.

If they are yours, you may claim them privately, or you may admit to having depantsed at a pancake supper in the comments.

I swear, I only had one drink. I do not know how someone was pantsless at my house and I did not notice it.

Cutting to the chase

As I mentioned several months ago, my sister and brother-in-law gave me a pair of scissors and a dress at the tea ceremony preceding their wedding. I was glib about it at the time, but the point of that was that, since my younger sister was getting married before I was, they needed to do something to ward off the bad luck that might befall me in relationships. Both the dress and the scissors are Chinese traditions, so I can attract a spouse of my own. Nothing so far, but to be fair, I've only worn the dress once since their wedding. And I hardly use the scissors, despite the fact that they are both very beautiful and ornamental, and also entirely utilitarian. They are probably the sharpest scissors I own.

In what would appear to be unrelated, but is not (I'll get there), my house is cleaner than usual these days, and I am trying to do as much decluttering as possible, which has extended to my trying to practice a little feng shui.

So here's the question for you, because I know somewhere in my readership there has to be someone who knows something about feng shui. Right?

I put the scissors in the relationship corner of my house. The idea was that, since they were given to me to bring me a relationship, and since they are a "pair," that would be good feng shui. It occurred to me this morning that since they are very sharp, and pointed, and next to my bed, that could be perceived as a little more hostile to love, and although I call them a pair, they're still just one thing, which you should never have in your relationship corner.

Any opinions on the wisdom of keeping those scissors there, or not?

Mindfulness

This week, I became aware that my dry-erase board, which is fine, is hung just a couple of inches too low to be ideal.

This morning, I became aware that if I stopped wearing two- to three-inch heels, my dry-erase board would become ideal.

These are the things I think about.

Dude looks nothing whatsoever like a lady

It's no, "I love you Pinky Ganesh," but here is the best sentence I have written today. It is both true and also sums up my entirely excellent Valentine's Day evening (though there may be another post coming on that subject):

I guess when you're a straight man in a red pleather miniskirt and a fitted t-shirt that says "puppy love" with a picture of sad-eyed puppies on it, you're not worrying that much about how classy you are.

Further evidence might include but not be limited to:

• your wearing a cheap long blonde wig, crooked
• your being both the bartender and entirely wasted
• your running around the room, grabbing women in pairs, and essentially forcing them to dance with you for a few seconds before you ditch them for the next pair
• your persistence in calling these women "ladies"

The smartest guy in the office?

I spent some of today watching Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room.
I recommend it if:

• You are already all riled up about Enron.
• You think Jeff Skilling is kind of funny in his delusion, and want more fodder for thinking that.
• You are a little embarrassed that you don't really understand the whole Enron mess, and think you probably should.

All that said, this ad was featured in the movie.



Watch at least the first few seconds of it and tell me this:

• Is that first voiceover Rainn Wilson?

Horse and absolutely buggy

This is arguably why I have a blog. You people need these stories (which I got this morning from a dear friend and regular reader; thanks, KS).

Unfortunately, this version has at least two problems that I can spot, and one giant open question (what about Clementine?) so I suspect it isn't very well reported. I will get you a better link when I find one.

I love you Pinky Ganesh

That is my favorite sentence I've heard today. In weeks, maybe.
"I love you Pinky Ganesh."

I came to it by way of a fascinating brown-bag talk on "Why professors blog," which turned out to be more on why this one guy blogs on everything he can think of, including but not limited to his sabbatical in India, which is fine, because it was awesome. My new favorite sentence was graffiti he found in India, in fact. I can honestly say I have never thought so much about Indian graffiti in my whole life put together as I have thought today about that one sentence.

Until I can think of some sentences I like as well as "I love you Pinky Ganesh," you should go look at his blog, because it is awesome and talks about things including but not limited to charismatic megafauna and his nine-year-old's take on Hobson's choices.

Sometimes, I very much like working for a college.

Sorry

Sometimes I fall off the planet. Sorry 'bout that. I didn't forget about you, and funny things have not stopped happening to me. I'm just not in a very write-y place lately, which is too bad, because "writer" is fully half my job title.

So, you know, saving what writiness I have for the folks who pay the bills. I'll be back soon. Promise. There are lots of funny things around the bend for me, I am sure. Plus, weather! Friends! All kinds of possibilities.