I walked past an open meeting area at work where someone was referring to "jar holes". I think they were referring to Java jars to plug certain functionality holes, but it still sounded very wrong.
I was sitting in the corporate library/training area and a guy walked in with two visitors to the company in tow. He gestured expansively at the area and stated that this area was a primary social hub as well as a high tech training center. This probably surprised them a little as I was sitting there alone reading the Harvard Business Review.
We are officially ThomsonReuters. The little ball peen hammers and noise of sticky paper attest to it - we are reminted in terms of branding. Mean Mr. Mustard thinks the new logo looks like a drain in his basement. I first saw it on video and it looked like a swirling toilet (the water). My new pen is uberkewl and She Says can't have it.
Yesterday, I donated platelets. While I was sitting there, I looked over and the old guy next to me had this huge shit eating grin on his face. I looked at his portable DVD player screen and there were two big spandexed butts. Some sort of Johnny Carson special. But leering at spandexed butts when you're 65+ makes you seem like a skeevy perve, even if you are donating white blood cells.
I went to the Backstreet Grill after donating platelets. I recommend it. Pretty good prices, pretty good breakfast. You can walk there from the Red Cross, although I recommend driving - lack of red blood cells always makes me a little dizzy and it's a busy street.
I went to another Aqua City Motel gig - this time at the Uptown which has great acoustics. They sounded really good. I think I'd like to hear the first song sped up about 50-100% just to see what that sounds like. The second song ("I don't believe that I could feel any lower") sounded a bit like Weezer and was really good. A very catchy riff.
It might have been Luke that posted this - super neat naturally dyed Easter Eggs.
Finally, I went to a talent show at Eryn's school this afternoon. We've biked 22 miles this week with the tagalong, so I thought we both needed a rest. Elementary talent shows are truly frightening. Lots of martial arts sets. Scooter tricks. Hockey displays (with mullets). So much Hannah Montana it's hard to believe: Hannah singing, Hannah lipsyncing, Hannah dancing. Some good piano and violin. Juggling with two hoops, and a bit of dropping them even with just two. Cheerleading displays. A bit of hit and miss magic. And even a light saber demonstration, with not one, but two, light sabers. The cheap one, which is more for all out swinging approaching aerobics, and the really expensive one you have to handle carefully because it lights up, is made of glass and metal, and probably cost two years' worth of allowance. But I enjoyed it. Because I sit there and I think, what's more important, hanging out here and making my daughter happy and cheering on these kids who, even if they don't have a real skill, had to wrack their brains to create a skill, or riding a database administrator because I need a change toot sweet and the only way to apply any pressure is indirectly through jokes about being my mother, references to superiors who really want the change, and borderline whinging. I seriously hope my presence at their creative talent exposition keeps them far away from cubicles and inefficient process-related wankery.
Finally - anyone who's not on my bloglist whom I read. I offer up a sincere apology. I really need to update my template and get things in order. You know who you are. Or maybe you don't. I lurk at at least one flickr account because she had pictures of herself on the West Virgina/Maryland ride I want to take, and now she posts pictures of herself in a bikini and with an apple on her head. That cheers me up.
No comments:
Post a Comment