La vida loca
Answers to frequently asked questions ...
No, I am not dead.
No, I am not trapped under a pile of packing paper.
No, Brad and Angelina did not summon me to their chalet to help with the kids.
No, I have not built a love nest for two with the hot new neighbor.
No, I have not abandoned my blog to work for the CIA.
I did, however, finally get rid of quite a few boxes, which is a miracle on par with the parting of the Red Sea and a comeback by Britney Spears. It is a HUGE relief and I totally went and got a pedicure for my nasty feet today to celebrate. (I was walking around outside in flip-flops afterward and a guy stopped me--since, you know, it's FREEZING out--and goes, "You just got your nails done, didn't you?" Why, yes, yes, I did, I said, and he was all, "I can tell. They look goooooooooood." I was like, thank you very much, foot fetish man!)
(The place is still trashed, by the way, and I'm still sleeping on the couch because I'm too damn lazy to clear off the bed. But at least it's not trashed with CARDBOARD.)
I also had a development seminar for work this week, during which I learned two very important things:
No. 1: I am 12 years old.
No. 2: So is my coworker.
About two hours in, we start passing notes.
Me: You should get a lizard or something. You could teach it tricks.
Him: You're on drugs. (A minute later.) Can I buy some?
Him (after seeing me check my messages and write down a number for Steve the moving guy): Is Steve hot?
Me: Sizzling! (surrounded by little squiggle lines)
Him: More sizzle than Coworker B?
Me: Is that even possible?
Coworker gets out his phone and takes a picture of our paper as "evidence" for the rest of the department that I "like" Coworker B.
Coworker changes my name placard to say "Mrs. Coworker B."
Speaker: No person likes to be dominated.
I start giggling.
Coworker (whispering): You. Are. HORRIBLE!
Speaker: OK, now let's spend two minutes on "buts".
Coworker starts snickering.
Me: YOU'RE horrible!
Coworker draws a line across my paper. I can't stand having a random line across the middle of my paper, so I make it into a mountain with a little stick figure skier. Coworker adds a pine tree. Stick figure skier dies. Then we play tic tac toe.
At one point, we had to practice our listening skills by partnering up and listening to the other person talk uninterrupted for two minutes. Every time we glanced away or stopped paying attention for a second, we had to make a signal, which was to help us be more aware of being "present" in conversations.
"Are you going to have a hard time talking for two minutes straight?" asked my partner, a charming young Brit with an oh-so-charming British accent to match. I was like, oh, you sweet boy, you have no idea.
I think we all know what I talked about.
"So," I said, taking a breath, "you know Brad and Angelina, right? I am FASCINATED with them. I just stayed in this place with the crappiest cable ever, so I could only watch that one show on, I don't know what channel it is, CNBC or CNN or MSNBC or something like that. Anyway. Every single night they talked about Brad and Angelina and I TOTALLY wanted to call in but I didn't, but ... wait, I should backtrack. Have you ever seen Mr. and Mrs. Smith? OH. MY. GOSH. You can totally, TOTALLY see the part where they fall for each other, I saw it in the movie theater and I completely freaked out and smacked my friend's arm, like, OH. MY. GOSH. DO. YOU. SEE. THE. WAY. HE. LOOKED. AT HER!!!!!! They're outside, and they're drinking tequila, and they're dancing in the rain, and the next morning she thinks he's gone, but he's not, he went to go get coffee and he's sitting by the window and he looks at her and she looks at him and OH MY FREAKING GOODNESS IT'S LIKE CRAZY SUPER HOT and ANYWAY, when they had the babies I totally couldn't even wait to get my People magazine in the mail, I had to go to the bookstore and buy a copy and ..."
His eyes resembled those of a caged animal's, but bless his heart, he only signaled me once. "I'm sorry, it's just ... I don't really follow social commentary," he said sheepishly in that lovely British accent of his when I was done. "Oh, you should," I said. "You REALLY should. You have NO IDEA what you're missing out on." So he promised to start flipping through People magazine, and then he told me about his mum and I thought it was just the cutest thing ever.
And there you go. I am going to be a much, much better blogger now, I promise. (For REAL this time! No boxes = no blogging hiatuses.) Have a good weekend, everyone!