I think my employment may be in jeopardy.

I'm all about getting to the point, but not so much so that nobody knows what you're talking about. Here is an email exchange from work this morning.

Ben-

Looking at the RCP we received this week, I was wondering if we could extend the slots bordering the tree courtyards. I am faxing you a sketch showing the location. Please let me know what you think.

Thanks,

Sara

The reply?

OK. B

"OK" what?

"Okay, you're going to go pick up the fax and get back me"?

"Okay, I'll do exactly what you ask. Your wish is my command..."?

"Okay, yeah, whatever you annoying nutjob"?

Or, as Christy said, "Okay, I'm too cool to write out my whole name, so I shall use my first initial, and I don't have the time to take my caps lock off so I shall type an 'O' and a 'K' followed by a period to make it a concise sentence, before I sign it with my cool trademark 'B'. And also, I'll get around to looking at your fax, and I'll get back to you when I figure out if it works or not. But, I'll get back to you fashionably late, because that's my style. Not too eager. Peace out."

I'm sorry. Really, I'm not a sociopath.

An IM exchange with collegue Christy regarding a violently sneezing co-worker:

Sara: can we get no respite from these outbursts?
Christy: oooh! we both were alerted by the nasal flugel horn, it looks like. :)
Sara: It's quite a rousing sound. Who needs a morning bugel call?
Christy: I wonder if he plays "good morning starshine" with his nose flute?
Sara: i'd like to mute his flute. i wonder, is it really necessary to sneeze so loudly?
Christy: good question. i think people's sneezes go with their personality, somewhat. would it really make sense, with mr. richwine's personality and demeanor, for him to give a dainty, inconspicuous sneeze? no! he's got to do a lindy-hop-junior-exec-captain-of-the-swing-dance-team-wearin'-my-suspenders-ASHRAE-perfect-attendance-award-alpha-male-lookin'-for-a-little-lady type sneeze.

Really, I'm not a mean person. It's just that this guy is just on the other side of my cubicle wall and every time he sneezes, the force of the blast causes my computer monitor to quiver back and forth.

When they stamp that date on the lids of yogurt cups, that's the sell-by-date, right? I sure hope so. I can't think of the last time I had a yogurt cup that wasn't past it's date.

Interesting new hit to My Back Pages from search engine: IS JIMMY BUFFET GAY.

You won't find the answer here....not that there's anything wrong with that.

Why is it that almost every server at TGI Friday's acts like they're on crack? Seriously. Where else does the waiter just slide into the booth with you and start talking to you like you're friends? Not that I mind a friendly server, I just don't want to have to carry on a lengthy conversation with him or her. I don't usually go out just to get something to eat. 9 times out of 10, I'm out socially. I am there to converse with someone. And that someone is not the person wearing an apron and 15 pieces of flair. (I had to squeeze an Office Space reference in here.) I'm not trying to cut on these overenthusiastic servers. I'm just saying all the effort is wasted when what I'm looking for is a server so good I don't even realize he's there.

I am intrigued by the new Limp Bizkit video. The first time I saw it, I was rather put off by it, but the second time, I was drawn in. I think my reaction is part of the reason I like it. The song is called "Eat You Alive" and it's not your traditional rap-metal love ballad. In the video, Fred Durst shouts the song through a megaphone in the face of a girl he has apparently kidnapped. Not your usual act of love. The girl is understandably frightened and put off at first, but gradually warms to the guy by the end of the song. She doesn't walk off into the sunset with him or anything hokey like that. And if untied, she'd probably still run away, but she has grown sympathetic to his position. Kind of like my reaction to the video and Limp Bizkit in general. I'm not a fan, and I have no intention of going out and buying any of their CDs but I have gained some respect for them for doing something original (this is miles ahead of "Your Body is a Wonderland") and contrary to the usual narcissistic vibe of MTV.

Roster update: LaDainian Tomlinson has been benched. He's just not getting the opportunity to perform like he could or should. Kevan Barlow is in.

The Hemorrhoids play the Tight Ends this weekend. Yes, the Tight Ends. Sounds I'll be playing a team of fruits. I better not lose. (I'll be the bigger person and avoid the obvious butt joke here.)

Today is an historic day in the development of Sara's vocabulary. I correctly used the words eschew and imbue in one sentence!

Another weekend, another loss for the Hemorrhoids. But Coach Sara is determined to pull this team together to snap the two-game losing streak.

Here's my current team:

QB: Bledsoe, Drew
WR: Burress, Plaxico
WR: Toomer, Amani
WR: Rogers, Charles
RB: Tomlinson, LaDainian
RB: McAllister, Deuce
TE: Crumpler, Alge
Bench: Manning, Peyton
Bench: Walls, Wesley
Bench: Driver, Donald
Bench: Canidate, Trung
Bench: Brown, Troy
Bench: Barlow, Kevan
Bench: McCardell, Keenan

K: Gramatica, Martin

DEF: Atlanta (DEF-Atl)

Not bad, eh? They're all doing okay, but so far no stellar performances to give me the big points. Any suggestions for a first-time coach?

Well, I had a nice weekend with Beth. It was just like old times. We got together, talked, laughed, watched movies, and ate a lot. After a breakfast at Faye's I thought they might have to grease me up to get me out the front door. But hey, Beth's birthday only comes once a year. Beth and I always come up with interesting things to talk about (like the time we envisioned a Bob Dylan fantasy camp) and this time was no different. Over breakfast we pondered what would happen if the "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" troop made over people we knew. Which led us to wonder: How would the "Fab Five" handle taxidermy?

Cable is going to be the death of me. Not only am I hooked on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy", I also love VH1's series, "I Love the 70s". Now I realize that I have no actual memories from the 70s, but it's amusing all the same. Watching various personalities get reunited with their pet rocks and 8-tracks and discuss the relationship of Starsky & Hutch is highly entertaining. I did relate to the discussion of Judy Bloom books because I did read some of those as a kid. Listening to Luis Guzman do a reading from Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret had me rolling on the floor. I'm only disappointed that I didn't have cable last spring so I could have seen the "I Love the 80s" series.

I must be a violent eyebrow-plucker. Last night when I was cleaning my bathroom mirror, I found several eyebrow hairs stuck to it.

I've been meaning to post on this topic, but I keep forgeting. So here goes...

I absolutely love the show "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" on Bravo. Basically, each episode is centered around five gay men trying to help one straight man get his life together. I'm not sure where they find the candidates for the "Fab Five" to makeover, but I'm sure they don't have to look far. They're mostly just your average bachelors who need a nudge in the right direction when it comes to style and culture and don't a have a girlfriend or wife to do the honors. Sure, the show could be done by five women, but it wouldn't be nearly as entertaining. You can see the guys bristle at the beginning as they get assaulted by five flaming gay men and are scared they're going to get made over into queers, but as the day goes on, they slowly warm up and are genuinely appreciative of the positive changes. It's all rather touching actually and the changes in these guys are quite impressive. It all comes together to make a show that's head and shoulders above such TLC fare as "Trading Spaces".

So this weekend I went on a murder mystery train ride up in Titusville. I wasn't sure quite what to expect, particularly with regard to the turnout. Lots of seniors? Chicks? What I wasn't expecting was the unusually large percentage of mullets. But they were good natured mullets. I mean, any mullet that's taking it's mate out for dinner and a train ride rather than beer and NASCAR is taking steps in the right direction.

All righty. I'm back from two fun-filled days in the metro-DC area. Okay, maybe not fun-filled. Exhausting is more like it. Traveling for work is not all it's cracked up to be. I get put in a beautiful city (Wednesday I was in the historic Georgetown area of DC) with all kinds of interesting restaurants, shops, and sights, but then I get locked up in an office all day with no time to explore. By the time I finally get out of there, I barely have the energy to stumble to the hotel and fall into bed. It's like dangling a carrot in front of me only to cruelly take it away.

I think I am in way over my head. I decided to join a fantasy football league...and I know nothing about the NFL. Okay, maybe not nothing. I'd say I know as much as the average female, but the doesn't say a whole lot, does it? While most of the others in the league were fretting over their draft priority list, I was agonizing over my team name. I wanted something clever, but not cute, not too feminine, yet not too masculine. Mirm suggested that I draw inspiration from my town of residence, Butler (lovingly called Butt-town) and so I reluctantly decided to name my imposing team the Hemorrhoids. Now this may seem a bit strange to most, but I think it will make a perfect analogy (no pun intended). You see, because of my limited football knowledge, my team will not likely be beating up on anyone, but I think I've got enough good players to make a go of it. So the hemorrhoids probably won't kill anyone, they'll just be a pain in the butt. And this brings me to the second reason why I chose this name: no matter how old you get, butt jokes never stop being funny.

All right, all right. Next time I'll name my team the Fighting Amish.