Back to Diaryland

the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2003-07-03 ... 7:59 a.m.

Excellent! Hats off to these nondestructive pranksters! The East Village needed some sprucing up.

I wish we all could be free to talk about and engage in the wonderful world of enemas. (I was not able to stop reading this. Although I wanted to. Desperately.)

Yeah, but why?

A real man have girl!

The only New Yorker cartoon I have even smirked at in a long, long time: A man and a woman are holding hands across a candlelit dinner table. The caption reads, "Carol, this may just be the wine talking---but I think we should order more wine."


I was getting married in a Jewish ceremony to Kevin Bacon. We had the shittiest chuppah ever, it was like a tall, rickety card table feebly decorated with stickers and magic-marker swirls. Kevin Bacon was bleeding through his tuxedo because of a gunshot wound, but he said it was no big deal and no one was particularly concerned. I woke up before our reception.

And woke up to more skunk-smell, which seems to be a standard summer thing in my neighborhood. I have to confess I sort of like skunk-smell. Not that I want it splashed on my pulse points or made into a bath oil or permeating my whole house, but the faint skunky aroma in the summer mornings is sort of neat. It is like See! Who Needs Camping! We Have Plenty Of Nature, Right Here In Filthy Chicago! My cat does not have similar warm and fuzzy feelings about the skunk smell. She stared at me all during breakfast like FIX IT, and I said, "Sorry, no can do, but doesn't the skunk-smell remind you of all the other nifty creatures on this planet? I kind of like it," and she just looked back and sent me the telepathic message YOU USELESS HUMAN.


I need to learn Hair Words. I am finally getting a haircut next week, Friday, after approximately five months of total scuzzbucket, tangled, messy, crazy-lady hair, which, now that the heat and humidity is ratcheting up, keeps threatening to turn into big, ridiculous, Mafia Wife hair. All the hipsters have this wispy skinny hair but it seems my thick-ass, all-you-can-eat, Sun-Maid-Raisin-Girl ethnic hair is here to stay, weird one-side-only gray streak and all, and I need to learn how to work with it beyond just getting the sad little one-inch trim twice a year and relying on ponytails during the summer. I have no idea how I want my hair to look except for "not like it is now, and I am not kidding when I say I cannot do that fancy-pants blowdrying stuff with the round brush et cetera." Please, teach me some Hair Words so I do not have to embarrass myself at the hipster salon saying something like that. Some person at work, who does not know me very well, suggested that I think about celebrities whose hair I admire, but I tried and I just kept coming up with cartoon hair or puppet hair (Buttercup Powerpuff, Jane Lane, the goth girl on Sifl and Olly).


1. I interviewed someone for the open position in my department, and it went fairly well. Now I just need a few more interviews for compare-and-contrast. The interview was at ten-thirty and I talked with her until almost eleven-thirty, and after all that acting-like-a-grown-up I was too addled to do anything but skip out for an early lunch. The plan was to head to Nordstrom for an IMPOSTER TO THE SALAD THRONE, but when I started up that escalator I saw the candidate, from the back, also apparently on her way to sustenance and/or shopping. I bailed and went somewhere else for lunch. Real mature of me, right? I can handle running into actual coworkers on the street, but with potential coworkers I only interact safe in my little office fiefdom? I need to control the power dynamic? I feel awkward being small-talk friendly with someone I may or may not hire, when the encounter is not on my own terms? Oh, I suck.

2. The Editor's Curse is that I get actually sweaty and upset when I see examples of poor spelling and grammar out in public. I had trouble finishing my lunch at R's graduation banquet after I noticed that the samosas purported to be "vegeterian." And yesterday I go to toss a bill in the mail bin here at the office and see a sign that says, because of the holiday, no mail will be "excepted" after noon today. (Sorry, mail! We cannot make an exception for you! A few bad postcards spoil the whole mailbag!) I gently, quietly, got out my pen and changed the word to "accepted," but then I felt bad when I walked by some time later and saw that the mailroom person had printed out a whole new sign, spelled correctly. I could have let it go. I did not have to anonymously remind someone that he or she is not the best speller on the planet. Again, with the suckage.

3. Today there is some sort of Fourth Of July Company Hot Dog Fest in the lobby of my building, and there was a directive that if we are not participating in patriotic hot dog consumption, we should stay and work during it, because the building does not officially close until post-hot dogs. What do I say to this? Maybe something like "phooey." Maybe something like, "I am so out of here once I finish issue review, and you can put that in your pipe and smoke it." What kind of Faustian bargain is this? Our only choices are forced hot-dog "fun" or more deskbound toil? I think not, tater tot.

A book of hot dog jokes, a set of recipes, and a puzzle are included as small diversions away from the stressful job of managing the business of the hot dog stand. Just what I always wanted for my child. Virtual hot dog experience.

Long weekend, hooray. And no hot dogs. See you later.

---mimi smartypants has no real need for speed.


join my Notify List and get email when I update my site:
Powered by