Bitter Sweetness

I left my office yesterday for the last time. I didn't expect to be so sad or feel so weird about it. But it was weird and sad. My desk is no longer my desk. Britta is no longer my office mate. Sheryl is no longer right outside my door. I'll miss them tons.

On the bright side, I officially work for myself, from home, and earn my living having girlfriend time. I guess things aren't all bad.

Overheard in My Office, Part Two

me: I wish my phone knew how to spell telekinesis. I don't even know how to spell telekinesis.

britta: t-e-l-e-k-i-n-e-s-i-s. Telekinesis. Oh man. I miss spelling bees.

I'm going to miss Britta.

Downsizing? Seriously?

Britta is full of good stuff today. She always reads the internet during her lunch, and came across this totally incredible article about Aaron Spelling's widow's house.

Britta says to me, "Guess how many square feet Aaron Spelling's widow's house is?"

I said, "49,000!" thinking that was like the size of Rhode Island, and there couldn't possibly be a house that large.

Britta says, "Nope. Fifty six." She pauses. "Thousand. Thousand." She explains that it has a wine tasting room, a bowling alley, and a well-known gift wrapping room. Well-known. Whatever. I've never heard of it. Then Britta proceeds to tell me that Mrs. Spelling is downsizing to a condo. A 16,000 square foot condo.

Of course I grab my calculator. "So what you're telling me is that you could fit 22.86 of my condo into her condo. What do you do with that much condo?"

Britta says, "How many of your condo can you fit into her house?"

80. Almost 81.

Man. I'd be happy with two of my condo. Share the wealth, Mrs. Spelling.

Overheard in My Office

britta [to herself, while clicking all over the internet looking for corporate funding information]: Nationwide, why aren't you on my side?

Systematic

I'm trying to be organized and stay on top of everything, right? So, gmail users, you know how you can "label" your emails, and they get sorted off to the left side there? Well, I did that. You know, a label for "Reply - Mary Kay" and "Reply - friends" and "Use this idea" and other such labels I thought would help me stay prioritized in my Mary Kay business. The problem is, I put emails into these folders, and then don't really look at them again. Dangit. I've stayed pretty on top of answering emails from my customers, for obvious reasons (I hope they're obvious, anyway). But the friends emails....eesh! I'm embarrassed to admit that there were emails in there from May 6* that I had not answered. So much for staying organized.

*If you emailed me on May 6, I'm terribly horribly incredibly embarrassingly sorry for not writing you back!!! Please still be my friend.

As Seen On 400 South and 900 East

Dave and I were stopped at the light heading up to my folks' house. (Happy Birthdays, Mom & Dad!) This dude was crossing in the crosswalk. He looked normal enough. White tee, jeans, maybe a little bit straight-thuggin', but nothing over the top.

Then he did this crazy knee raise with a fist-to-chest bump.* At first I thought, maybe he tripped, although it seemed a little stylish for a trip. But then he did it again. OK, he's got moves. On the third knee-raise-chest-bump I deemed it "tourette's-walking." He tourette's-walked his way all the way through the cross walk and across the lawn at the Village Inn. I wondered if he was meeting a buddy, or going to work.

But, no. He started digging through the ash tray outside of the V.I., pulling out half-smoked cigs, all while shimmying his shoulders. Dave said, "Don't stare. Its not polite."

I replied, "But he's still dancing. While digging through the garbage." (He had moved from the ash tray to the garbage can, still shimmying, which in my mind, made it appropriate to stare.)

Dave said, "And there doesn't appear to be any apparent music, does there?" At which point the light turned green and we had to forge on.

Damn you, light. I was watching that.

* Edit: Dave just asked what I was doing, and when I told him I was blogging about the tourette's-walker, he found this clip from Cadence and said, "Isn't this what that guy was doing?" It is.

Small Lake City

This is crazy. Brad and Maeve were telling us at dinner on Wednesday about their friend Christy who was rafting and happened upon a plane crash. I couldn't imagine. So I read her account.

Then today I was catching up on Trav's blog, and came across the same story!

Turns out Trav and Christy float rivers together. How random.

Frustration

What is up with the internet? Is it the rain? I just spent some valuable work time updating my layout to include a blogroll of my friends, complete with RSS feed so I know when there are new posts and can make a better attempt at keeping up with everyone's stories. But it doesn't appear to be working. Is it working for you, my dedicated fans?

Internet, stop being a tool.