Silverware

Setting: Calm, quiet office, with a well-known candy jar full of Worther's Originals.
Mood: Girl in skirt, peacefully typing and using her brain to a good majority of it's potential.
Action: Machinist in oil-spatter enters at doorway, reaches for two pieces of candy, and pauses on his way out to offer this report:

"I've got matching silverware for the plate in my head."

IMMENSE ENJOYMENT ENSUES FOR GIRL IN SKIRT.

Blurts

Lately I've been noticing a tendency on my part to blurt out unnecessary things at work. WHY do I suddenly have the urge to yell, to talk smack back to people for fun, or just to throw out strange comments in general? There is no pent-up frustration here. No sarcasm, no underlying motives. To the account manager walking past my open office door on his cell phone saying, "I am at work right now, believe it or not," I want to shout, "DON'T BELIEVE IT! DON'T DO IT!" like a maniac or an annoying little kid. If anyone can tell me what's wrong with me, please don't. Because I secretly kind of like it as long as it doesn't get me evicted from my office.

Confession #1

I have a confession: I have a storage shed. This is difficult for me to admit, given my aversion to storage sheds in general. In brief, I think storage sheds for people who own a house or even an apartment larger than a studio are a joke. And even if you read this and you have one, I do not feel bad for telling you this. If you have stuff you don't use more than once every couple months, you shouldn't have it. Or you just have way too much other stuff. If your storage is on your property, that's your issue and essentially an extension of your house. But if it is in a long embankment of other storage sheds and you have to use a key/pin to get in, it shouldn't be necessary. This is why it's difficult for me to come to grips with the fact that yesterday afternoon, I loaded up the family truck and took a bunch of stuff to storage. I do have a good excuse (my room is being redecorated by my landlord, ahem, mom, to the extent that there is only room for my clothes and half my books), but I still feel off kilter, and it's been over 24 hours. We'll see how I do in a week.

Venice

Venice Beach, California is one of my new favoritest places. Though there are many on the list, this one just jumped towards the top like Jessica Simpson up the country charts (but with better taste). Venice Beach, in my mind, contained rollerblading men with tank-tops and as commercialized a version of California beach as you could get. Think Bakersfield by the beach but with tourists. Yowza. On my recent out-of-curiosity-visit (a regular occurance), however, I determined that while still touristy, Venice Beach is definitely a list-topper. It is hippie, and trashy, and crowded with all types of people - Kanye wannabees, hip urbanites, flower people and homeless all intermingle. And most of the tourists that I encountered, anyway, were from outside the US, which makes things much more interesting. If you like hippie, cultured, semi-trashy places, Holly, this place is for you.

Conversations with Rick

I have many conversations with my office folk. And let me tell you, when I say it's like the Office, the show, IT IS LIKE THE OFFICE. I keep a running log of great conversations and will periodically share them. Perhaps one day I'll get some audio to go along with it. Names have been changed to protect the identity of my coworkers (or at least that's what you think).

Rick:
Think I’ll go with Ralph to pick up my car. May be gone a while, see how much he wants to look around.
Me:
Where at?
Rick:
Out near Lamont.
Me:
It’s a different world out there.
Rick:
Yeah, and you never know, about the people you go out with… with those foreign-born drivers you just never know. I went out driving with a guy from India once and he always wanted to drive on the wrong side of the road. We’ll see how Ralph does. You just never know… those foreign born drivers…(drifting down the hall)
(Ralph has been in and out of the US for over twenty years)

Me:
Rick, can you sign this check real quick? It’s a donation for the American Cancer Society.
Rick:
mmmhmm mmm mmmmmm I’M A SURVIVOR!!! (screaming).


The other day Rick asked me (in all sincerity) to find out who is using the little stapler and take it away from them.