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Aug. 10th, 2005
nose to the rolling stone
Aug. 10th, 2005 03:28 pmI played hooky for a little while after lunch today. I went to eat with my office mate, and when we were finished, she said, "I don't feel like going back just yet. Want to go clothes shopping?" Well, I am easily led astray, is all; we spent the next half hour poking around clearance racks and I bought three shirts and a pair of pants I really didn't need, and now we are back and (mostly) working, and I feel better for having drifted off the map for a little while.
I'm a responsible person. I come to work early and leave late and believe it or not spend most of the time in between actually accomplishing things; in fact, I am accomplishing something right this minute in the form of a long report running. I am almost always where I should be, doing what is expected of me. And so times like this are doubly satisfying. Not only do I get half an hour of time where only one other person in the world knows where I am (and that person has an interest in Not Telling), but I get to be reminded that I am capable of this, capable of saying, "yeah, lets!" and slacking like the proverbial mofo and not feeling the least bit guilty or furtive about it. It is good for me.
:::
Today I went to a company meeting and was listening to the loud general talk that happens when you're settling into a meeting like this, and suddenly there was one of those lulls where the silence is going to be filled--you know it is--with someone saying the most embarrassing thing imaginable at the top of her voice. And sure enough, the VP of Operations' voice rang out: "K., do you spit or swallow?" There was a moment of stunned silence before the whole office just busted out laughing.
I leave you to decide what that conversation was about. But I will tell you that K., he is a swallower.
:::
Finally the news is back, and it is good. There is no active TB in our office. So I shan't need your kind offers of hankies scented with rosewater, unless you just really think I ought to have them anyway.
:::
ETA: If I hear Coldplay's "Speed of Sound" one more time today, I am going to summon my zombie minions to chew off Chris Martin's tongue.
I'm a responsible person. I come to work early and leave late and believe it or not spend most of the time in between actually accomplishing things; in fact, I am accomplishing something right this minute in the form of a long report running. I am almost always where I should be, doing what is expected of me. And so times like this are doubly satisfying. Not only do I get half an hour of time where only one other person in the world knows where I am (and that person has an interest in Not Telling), but I get to be reminded that I am capable of this, capable of saying, "yeah, lets!" and slacking like the proverbial mofo and not feeling the least bit guilty or furtive about it. It is good for me.
:::
Today I went to a company meeting and was listening to the loud general talk that happens when you're settling into a meeting like this, and suddenly there was one of those lulls where the silence is going to be filled--you know it is--with someone saying the most embarrassing thing imaginable at the top of her voice. And sure enough, the VP of Operations' voice rang out: "K., do you spit or swallow?" There was a moment of stunned silence before the whole office just busted out laughing.
I leave you to decide what that conversation was about. But I will tell you that K., he is a swallower.
:::
Finally the news is back, and it is good. There is no active TB in our office. So I shan't need your kind offers of hankies scented with rosewater, unless you just really think I ought to have them anyway.
:::
ETA: If I hear Coldplay's "Speed of Sound" one more time today, I am going to summon my zombie minions to chew off Chris Martin's tongue.
Oh. My. God.
Aug. 10th, 2005 09:04 pmOn the phone tonight with a friend, and we were talking about plaster casts, and then body parts cast in plaster, and she mentioned that Tommy Lee had a cast of Pamela Anderson Lee's pregnant belly in his bathroom, and I'm sorry in advance for the nightmares you're undoubtedly going to be having thanks to that image. And then I mentioned the PlasterCasters.
Do you remember them? The PlasterCasters? Sixties groupies who cast the, er, naughty bits of various rock stars and hangers-on? Well, my friend had never heard of them, so I went looking for a link to enlighten her, and found the absolutely not work-safe in any way website of the, I guess, founder of the group.
While the website is, and I cannot emphasize this enough, absolutely not work-safe in any way, it is both hilarious and really a little creepy. The link-images! The rocket-ship! The constellations! T-shirts! The main-page illustration! The photos! And the fact that for $500, she will teach you how to cast for yourself.
I SO TOTALLY KNOW how I'm going to spend my honeymoon.
Do you remember them? The PlasterCasters? Sixties groupies who cast the, er, naughty bits of various rock stars and hangers-on? Well, my friend had never heard of them, so I went looking for a link to enlighten her, and found the absolutely not work-safe in any way website of the, I guess, founder of the group.
While the website is, and I cannot emphasize this enough, absolutely not work-safe in any way, it is both hilarious and really a little creepy. The link-images! The rocket-ship! The constellations! T-shirts! The main-page illustration! The photos! And the fact that for $500, she will teach you how to cast for yourself.
I SO TOTALLY KNOW how I'm going to spend my honeymoon.