I'm done with it ... really. I am.

You know that stupid little hand motion Keanu Reeves does in one of the Matrix fight scenes that has been repeated on every fight scene since then from cartoons to big budget blockbusters?

Yeah, I'm done with it.

Feel free to leave that out of your next production.

Thank you in advance.

If I ran the world ...

Between you and me:

I would be happy to have ads plastered all over the overhead bins, the tray tables, the shell of the plane, etc. if it meant cheaper flights. Let some advertising dollars take some of the sting out of the bill for my tickets, especially since my kid is now 2 years old and has to have her own seat.

How To Article of the Week

This week: How to Unclog a Bathtub Drain

I can't think of anything more (translate: less) appropriate for a Thanksgiving weekend than discussing clogged drains.

Anyone?

Happy Thanksgiving anyway.

Recovering from my food coma

Will be back later.

Time Flies

It's hard to believe it's Thanksgiving again. My body still thinks it's July, so I get a shock every time I brave the cold outdoors.

And it will only get worse.

When I'm 65, I'll probably keep thinking I'm 48 and wondering why I have so many wrinkles.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Colorful Socks

Recently I bought some new socks. Unfortunately, the only ones that were on sale had some pretty bold stripes on them, and I worried about causing undue attention to my clown-sized feet.



(Tangent)
I'm tall and skinny.

So are my feet.

I'm positive they would fit perfectly in those insanely long shoes.
(End Tangent)

So, who could have predicted they would become my favorite socks?

I've almost been tempted to start pegging my pants like I did in the 80s, just so I can show them off a little more. Almost.

The only thing stopping me is calling attention to those blasted clown feet.

Overactive Enthusiasm

Last week, I was talking to some of my coworkers about how loud I get on the phone when I'm trying to sound enthusiastic or knowledgeable. It doesn't even occur to me until I hang up the receiver.

Then, I get all panicky, wondering how many people around me are planning to add my face to the front of their respective dart boards.

Without realizing it, I coined a cheesy phrase.

From now on, speaking with the enthusiastic dial turned a little too high will now be synonymous with: Verbal Jazz Hands.



9FBFSQ9XUJMR

Office Outtakes

For those of you who missed the predecessor to Office Outtakes (Cult Chronicles) go here, here, here, here, here, here and here.

These stories are about a specific coworker I used to have. She was a sweet girl, but she ... (how do I put this?) ... didn't have a verbal filter. For other Office Outtakes, go here, here, here, here, here, here and here.

This is the final story (unfortunately):

My coworker, we'll call her Serendipity (Dipity for short), had this habit of doing a series of stretches throughout the day. Typically, she would stand up at her desk and go at it, verbalizing what she was doing the entire time.

"Stretch!"

"Stretch!"

This occurred roughly every two hours (about halfway in between her candy offering ritual). You could set your watch by it.

However, sometimes she would develop a sudden case of modesty and retreat to the kitchen area for her calisthenics.

It was during one of these moments that my other coworker, we'll call him Brian, wandered into the kitchen to get some water.

(Tangent)
There is one thing you need to know about Brian. He is ultra conservative. ULTRA. CONSERVATIVE.

For example, he was on location with a female executive from one of our clients, and he refused to take a cab with her because he would be alone in a car with a woman who wasn't his wife.

... Last I checked, cabs don't run on autopilot. Technically, your cab driver is a built-in chaperon.

But this gives a little insight into how horrifying the next part of the story is for Brian in particular.
(End Tangent)

Dipity was still new at this point, and Brian wanted to help her feel welcome. Here's how the exchange went:

Brian: It's probably hard getting used to sitting in a desk all day, huh? (referring to the all the noisy stretching)

Dipity: Oh ... no ... I just have big boobs.

Brian: (moonwalking back out of the kitchen) ... uh ...

Later, Brian told me about her comment and said, "What do you say to that?!? There is no safe ground for a guy in the workplace."

And he's right.

"Oh, now that you mention it, you're right. You definitely do."

Nope.

"Nah, they're actually pretty small compared to others I've seen."

Not a chance.

"Yeah, I figured that was the problem."

Definitely not.

How To Article of the Week

This week: How to Use a Dash in an English Sentence

As grammar conscious as I try to be, dashes have been a mystery to me. This helped clear it up a little, so I thought I'd pass it along.

Ruprecht

Everyone should see Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.

It's about two con artists who swindle rich women out of money.

One of my favorite parts is Ruprecht. He's the character they use to get the women to go away voluntarily after they've conned them.