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Archive for the ‘really? REALLY?’ Category

twenty minutes

Tuesday, November 22nd, 2016

I’m still thinking about David Blaine. I have a theory.

So, his wacky physical stuff can be explained by him being disciplined and willing to push his body farther than any normal person ever would. Like, he trained himself to hold his breath for seventeen minutes or some equally ridiculous shit. On the Netflix special, Crockett and I saw him teach himself to drink gallons of water, then kerosene, then spit them in reverse order onto an open flame.

Basically, physically he makes very poor choices but some of them look neat.

The other thing he does all the time, though, I am stymied! Or was, until I came up with my foolproof theory. The thing I’m talking about is the audience participation thing. He’ll have someone sign a card, then that same card will turn up in that person’s inner pocket. He’ll have someone think a name, and then that name will appear on the inside of the window of the store they’re standing in front of.

There’s only one solution.

He can see, like, twenty minutes or so into the future.

Think about it. It’s not really far enough to do much useful, and he doesn’t quite seem like the selfless type anyway. I mean, COULD he sit in the ICU and tell doctors when someone is pre-crash? Sure, but how would that bring in the ladies? Could he travel with SWAT teams and tell them when a situation is going to go south based on their current course of action? Totally, but SWAT members make, what, like high five figures? That ain’t Vegas money.

Short of googling how those tricks are done (which I have no interest in doing because it’s likely to be either technically complicated or prosaic and I’m not into that), this is the only explanation.

Right?

*Pats self on back*

oooookabob

Tuesday, November 15th, 2016

I’m sore.

Very sore.

FROM YOGA.

The fact that I’m so surprised says one of two things about me. A) I’ve been dramatically underestimating yoga-ites and the workout they get for quite some time, or B) I’m a gigantic baby with spaghetti for muscles and a minimal pain tolerance.

I’m going again tomorrow night, because either way, it’s a much better workout than I expected.

Yoga clothes are cute, right?

admire with me, would you

Wednesday, November 9th, 2016

This dress:

cewooldress

It is black. For mourning.

It’s made of wool and linen. Natural fibers that come from the earth, and probably won’t be available in ten years (a week) because someone doesn’t believe in global warming and wants us to not pass go and go straight to Mad Max land.

It’s got thumb holes for coziness, which is an excellent secret way to feel like one is wrapping oneself up in a blanket on the couch while still being out in the world.

In short, it’s the post-Hillary dress.

The post-Trump outfit OBVIOUSLY looked like this, in case you’re wondering:

burgandysuit

 

Ok, off to drink myself into oblivion.

(Not really, but I have said that several times today. Out loud. And half meant it.)

(Yes, this whole thing was dramatic but not entirely kidding because WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED to a day I was so, so excited about? I can’t write about it, I don’t have anything to say that isn’t being said by wiser minds all over the internet.)

I’m the villain in my own story

Wednesday, November 2nd, 2016

I worked from home today! It was super (mostly).

The non-super part was calling into a meeting. I was the only one on the phone and the project team is a group of raucous, funny as shit women, and the upshot was that they talked really fast and had a lot of fun and the most I was able to interject was a laugh here and there. I likely wouldn’t have had a lot to contribute on today’s particular topic anyway, but I felt left out and like everyone thought it was lame I wasn’t there.

Important point: my company is ‘retaining great people’ and officially instituted both a work from home program and gave us unlimited* vacation next year, so being at home was sanctioned and scheduled. I am being a good employee and taking advantage of dog-hanging-out-with related perks at the same time, in other words. (So is about half my team, we each take one different day through the week.)

Probably no one thought it was lame, in truth. Probably people don’t think about where other people are at all, really? But that’s the kind of thing I always worry about. Like, someone is secretly compiling a dossier of just very slightly disappointing things I’ve done at work and one day I’ll come in and they’ll hand me a box and a list? Two glasses of wine instead of one at the work happy hour, recommended too many people for employment here, actually used the work at home policy, didn’t write an appropriately heartfelt/formal/? thank you note for the incredibly generous wedding gifts … Those are not firing offenses, and I don’t really think they are. I don’t. But also I fret, sometimes.

Today a friend from another company was telling me about two men she works with (that I know personally). I won’t say exactly what’s going on with them, but in essence they’re treating normal working hours and manager feedback like suggestions. No, not even suggestions really. It’s like they’re seniors and they’ve taken their finals, but that is not actually true!! They are still employed! And have duties! Work, doing work, actually turning out the work you’re paid for – ignoring that stuff is what gets people fired! And these guys do not worry at all apparently?! They’re definitely not looking elsewhere, they’re long timers at that company, they just … don’t fret.

It makes me very angry. Because I still feel like I should write another, better, thank you note. I need some of that not fretting**, I guess. And they could use more.

* with manager approval
** do I mean Xanax?

 

 

SO FULL

Thursday, April 14th, 2016

Do you ever feel like someone is lying to you for no reason?

In that a) you have no reason to think they’re lying and b) they have no reason to actually be lying, and yet somehow you still totally think they are?

A dude at work today told me a long story, apropos of literally fucking nothing, about his contractor shooting a finishing nailing into said fellow’s leg, and how the nail is still there. It was pointless, and poorly told, and I feel like he was LYING, but also why on earth would he be? Ridiculous. (Me. Or him, if I’m right, I guess, but probably me.)

Also we’re planning our wedding because we’re getting maaaarrrieeed and we weren’t really sure if we’d pick colors. It didn’t seem super important, because we’re pulling the trigger in an art gallery so the decorations are pretty much built in, ya feel me? However, so our moms could coordinate and we could think about … I don’t know, napkins? Flowers? I ordered this book for us and it comes tomorrow, maybe it will have a ‘what your colors are for’ chapter … anyway, we sort of picked some.

And then I realized that two thirds of them are the Broncos colors. Ish.

I mean, go athletes etc, but, no.

Sabres, maybe.