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Looking For Quacks In The Pavement

  • Follow The Bouncing Rubber Dummy

    I suppose I could chalk this up to “things that happen when you’re running on very little sleep or patience and have been at work off and on for over 14 hours.”

    But really, it’s just because I’m a moron.

    Have you seen those new office chairs that are the fashionable thing in cube farms nowadays? They’re basically just a big rubber ball, sometimes in a container with something resembling back support but some of them are just… big rubber balls.

    We have one of those in a cubicle here. It’s been taunting me for months. Tonight I finally broke loose and rolled it down the hall.

    Whee!

    I rolled it back and forth a bit, and then I did something remarkably stupid, even for me: I kicked it.

    Bounce! Bounce bounce! CRASH! tinkle tinkle tinkle…

    You know those red lights outside of broadcast studios, the ones that indicate the studio is “on air” and you should be quiet nearby and not open the door except on the direst of emergencies? In our building those fixtures consist of a painted red incandescent bulb inside of a very nice looking, very expensive, very glass enclosure.

    And yep, I broke one of them to smithereens.

    Did I mention those enclosures are expensive?

    So, yeah. On top of already having not one of the best workdays ever, I go and pull a stupid stunt like this. Brilliant, I say. It’s things like this that remind me why I can’t be trusted on my own judgement, unchaperoned…

  • Radical New Concept

    This didn’t happen to me. Think of this as a hypothetical situation. It isn’t, but I’d really rather you think of it that way anyway. So. Here’s a bit of clue for all the boss-type people out there:

    If you’re going to give Underling B the job currently performed by Underling A, hadn’t you jolly well better prepare Underling A in some fashion for this change? So that Underling A doesn’t suddenly find themselves fearing for their employment? And hadn’t you jolly well better not try to keep it a secret from Underling A? Or blow off talking to Underling A until the following week once the secret’s been blown sky-high anyway?

    Because, you know, that’s the sort of crap that causes many of your underlings to lose all respect for you. And once that’s gone, what have you got left?

    Hmm?

  • Oh, fine, fine…

    Fine. I gave in. And do you know why? Because one, I’m insatiably curious, and two, I couldn’t resist the urge to get a lock on the one Gmail address I’d ever actually want. (Or, more accurately, I wanted to keep anyone else from getting it.)

    You can probably guess what my Gmail addy is. And if you can’t… who are you and what are you doing here? (Heh.)

    Yes, folks, it’s true: I can be a sheep, too.

  • Such an iconoclast…

    So far I’ve turned down not one but two offers of a Gmail account.

    Yes, I’m that much of an iconoclast. Besides, I have my own domain and mail server. What the heck do I need another email addy for?

    We now return you to your regularly scheduled, much more interesting, broadcast day.

    UPDATE: Of course, the very day I post this, Dawn announces she has Gmail invites available. Heh.

  • An Open Letter To My Subconscious

    Dear Inner Me,

    Stop it. I mean, really. Cut it out.

    This whole business of sabotage must cease, immediately. The random dark thoughts, the vapor-locking under pressure… I’ve had enough. And what’s this with the dreams lately? Last night I dreamed I had only a few months to live. Oh, great, like that is going to get me off on the right foot in the morning. Thanks awfully. The last dream I remember involved being utterly alone in the world, sort of a sadly pathetic Omega Man riff or some-such. Sheesh. Can’t I have some good dreams? You know, stuff like cavorting naked women? Something with lightness, humor, or even just a harmless pastoral scene? I’ll take what I can get at this point.

    Oh, and you can stop with the random emotional kneecapping at inopportune moments. Like, say, last night. If I wanted a guilt trip I’d phone up my relatives.

    And say, have you considered maybe doing something about the general agitation levels around here? The stress is probably killing me, and the sooner I go the sooner you’re gone, too. Maybe I’m a starry-eyed idealist but it seems to me that if we’re both happy we’ll live longer… and the whole secret to life is not dying, right?

    I’m hoping we can resolve things peacefully. You don’t want me to come in there, now do you? Hmm?

    I thought not.

  • Kim Wand in Portland

    During the first week of August, my friend Kim came to visit Portland for the first time. I like to think that she had a good time… and I’ve finally posted the photographic proof:

    There’s more where that came from. Follow the link, my friends!

    Kim Wand Visits Portland

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