Yearning

I yearn to blog, but about the only thing I can think of to say is that my office seems to have switched to a cheaper brand of toilet paper.

And that's probably too much information.

And is that even worth a post?

Maybe my lack of creative thoughts stems from a secret devastation at the loss of my algae-eating fish, Poopy (RIP). Except sometimes we called him Pooper. But now I feel a slight unease every time I look at the tank. Who's next? Matt? Josh? PULLA?? Frank, the invisible shrimp?

Or maybe it's because I've been watching too much TV lately. or for the last 24 years. Maybe if I got out and went fly fishing this weekend I would come back refreshed and inspired.

Maybe what I need is a rousing game of Skirt Kickball, where you play kickball in a skirt. but maybe that's only appropriate when you're 19. or maybe that's never appropriate.

Snakes

Yesterday I told Seth that a character in a book I'm reading was killed by snakes.



"What kind of snakes were they?" he asked.

"Um," I said.

"Cuz there are only 4 kinds of poisonous snakes in North America, and only two of those can be found out West," he said. Then blah, blah, blah, snakes this, snakes that, etc.

I asked him how he knew all this, and he told me he learned it in Boy Scouts.

Here's what I learned in Girl Scouts:

Circle round, that has no end:
that's how long I want to be your friend.

I also learned that my Uncle Just could eat 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies by himself. And that gum doesn't decompose in dirt, even if you leave it in a container filled with dirt buried in dirt for months. And that they ride gondolas in Italy. Always.

Seth told me about how boa constrictors could eat people whole.

Then I told him about how this one time, I was walking through the forest, and I saw this guy named Seth, and I ate him whole.

He then shared a story that involved snakes. I don't remember what it was. I'm not sure I was totally listening.

In any case, my story was the better one.

wii fit

Working out becomes a little bit more enticing when I know I can go home and do step aerobics with Carolyn Holly and President Obama.

Meet Millard Fillmore

Born: I don't know
Died: I don't know
Hometown: the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Job: President
Major accomplishments: ?
Favorite adjective: paisley
Legacy: there's a street named after him in Port Orchard, Washington.

special thanks to Colette for emailing me this coloring page.

oh no

Bad news. On Friday, my office is having a combined birthday party for three people.

THREE PEOPLE.

You know what this means, right? THREE BIRTHDAY CARDS. Three opportunities for me to say something hilarious. Three guaranteed failures.

Usually, I go with something like "happy birthday." or "hope it's a good one." or "you are fun to work with." You know. something STUPID.

I don't think I've ever written something funny on a birthday card. It is a total personality flaw. I can't do it. Can't step up to the plate and convey humorous birthday wishes.

Everyone else in my office seems to have a special talent for the job. Just like they all have a special talent for bowling. What a strange, strange place this is. Full of bowlers and birthday card humorists.