Lucy's Spleen

I just finished reading over a batch of emails from my girlfriends at home all about their fun Halloweeny weekends and now I'm all, "Hey, it's Halloween?" I don't think they have that holiday here. Anyway if they do I know we weren't invited to celebrate. That could be because no one knows us to invite us but I think the real story is that the whole state of Massachusetts forgot to party in advance of a mid-week All Hallows Eve due to a temporary mania known as Red Sox Fever. This is a condition which causes in its victims a major disruption in sleep habits and unusual levels of alcohol consumption on weeknights. Other symptoms are an excessive wearing of red and/or logo-emblazoned clothing and an upset of speech patterns manifesting as a verbal tic, in which the afflicted individual will be heard to uncontrollably mutter or shout, "Go Sox!" even addressing perfect strangers with this declaration or speaking out inappropriately during professional meetings and the like. I'll tell you the fever hit this city hard this season; people around here have been suffering for weeks, growing increasingly agitated over the past few days such that it seemed the fever was peaking. Finally, around midnight last night, we were awakened by the sound of the whole city erupting in a great loud cry of delirium and now it seems the epidemic has passed.

Thank goodness! I was beginning to fear even I may have been catching the fever.

"Treats"

I find the office culture phenomenon of people anticipating, discussing (at length) and generally creaming their panties over the occasional company-sponsored “treat” depressing. 

And yes, this cupcake is delicious, thank you.

A Peek Into My Thought Process: The Workplace Paranoia Edition

When I touch base by phone with an older woman I admin for while she's out of the office and in saying good-bye she tells me, "Be good," is this a word of caution? Is she saying she suspects there's a possibility I might be other than good since she's not around? Is the underlying message that she finds me to be, generally speaking, no good?

Or is this just something she says? Like to be... grandmotherly, or something.

(UPDATE: Results are in- grandmotherly it is. Okay then.)

Whoo-ee these have been a heavy-duty couple of weeks. I started work and went through a week of training which was... intense, to say the least; Stan kicked it up a notch and started keeping working hours to match my own and has been having a righteous time delving into his academic experience. We had guests for a weekend which was heavenly and, for contrast, followed by the hell of losing the wireless connection off of which we have been freeloading since we moved here. Because I hadn't been paid yet we were too broke to do anything about it, then I got paid and the connection suddenly went live again. The whole thing smacks of a particular brand of inexplicable modern mysticism and has been a massive inconvenience. In the meantime there's been a giant wad of web-business that has gone untended-to on my part; there are game winners to announce (turns out it's sort of an Everybody Wins! kind of game) and prizes to be disseminated (email me your addresses folks and thanks for playing) and photos to load and so many things to tell that I'll never get around to them all. For now, though, here's a quick sampler:

• I got a job and have been working my ass off. Hmm, wait. That's not news. That's just the same walk I've been walking for the past year in Salt Lake. What was I talking about again?
• I've been nurturing a new hobby, the Weekly Wednesday Weepy Meltdown. This is a fun pastime which entails falling all to pieces lamenting the many difficulties you endure in life; you cry your eyes out, sleep like crap, then get up, drained and exhausted, and have a really rad day. It's an effective (though inefficient) way of purging all the lint and hair and grime that collects in the brain over the course of a week. I can't say I recommend it.
• I love our friends so much. We're going to NYC to be with a bunch of our friends from home this weekend and I can hardly wait to huff in the deep comfort and the satisfaction of being in the company of people I love and who get me and for whom I have nothing to prove. Hurray for being thirty and for distinct regional divisions of places and for having friends who will travel long distances. Hurray!
• Our apartment remains unchanged, save a single piece of art hung on one wall. I have had a million fantasies about the furniture we'll purchase and the decorating strategy I'll undertake, but, despite the hours I have spent plugged in to this website for inspiration, the fact of the matter is there's not much more we really need. There are many, many things we could acquire that would make our situation more comfortable/civilized/utilitarian, but I will say that I am genuinely very happy already with just our two chairs and our three lamps and our mattress on the floor. 
• You know what? This is so weird and astounding- most of the time I can hardly believe it, but take it from me, it's the truth: Every day millions of people wake up, dress themselves in uncomfortable garments that serve no practical purpose other than to satisfy convention, and they travel- by car or by bus or by rail or bicycle or foot or fucking air bus or however, but however they go it's crowded and takes a long time to get there because for some reason even though they all go to different places they still insist on going there at the same time as one another- to a destination where, given other options and more opportunity, most of these people would choose not to be, and they spend the entire day there. Every day. This blows my mind. What an extraordinary phenomenon.
• I snore now.

Yep! That's it. That's all I can do for the moment. Please bear with me. I always feel as though you do bear with me. Thanks so much for bearing with me. You ever think about getting married? No? Okay. Well, never mind.

First Day at my New Job

Dear New Office Neighbor Who Reminds Me of Someone Dear to Me,

Thank you for the beautiful office supplies you surreptitiously piled on my desk when I was away in a meeting. You probably weren't aware of my particular affection for the stuff, but you clearly saw that my new space was lacking certain essentials. In a dragging hour of this what has been a long and kind of overwhelming day, for just a moment you made me feel like it was my emmer-effing birthday all up in this piece (wherein piece = cubicle).

Thanks, yo!

The New Girl

An Interactive Post: Recent Dreams

Okay, this will be a game. Are you ready? Let's play.

Which of the following scenarios is real, i.e. not from my dreams over the past few weeks?

A]    We are setting out on a major trip in a van packed full to the brim. It's nighttime, Stan is asleep in the back seat (I am trying not to wake him) and we're cruising along when I realize: I can't see because the headlights are off, we're approaching a red light at an intersection, gaining speed down a hill. No one's at the wheel. I'm riding in the passenger seat.

B]    At the home of my repressed 60+ y/o Conservative Mormon Republican neighbor in Salt Lake City: said neighbor is sitting with her arm around Stan, speaking urgently into his hear about Anne Coulter's "pu$!y lips."

C]    I run into an old friend. We haven't seen each other in long time, not since we broke up over what I consider to be unjust reasons which hurt me deeply. It is a joyful reunion.

D]    I visit a pet store. It is a menagerie of bizarre, miraculous creatures.

E]    I come into contact with a former (notoriously difficult to deal with) manager of mine and experience intense anxiety over our emotionally charged interaction. It seems I'm still not over the shitty way she treated me.

F]    There's something unexpected in the swimming pool: half a dozen transparent, jellyfish-like cartoon baseball testicles. Expressive little singing cartoon baseball testicles. Two enact a slapstick comedy fight scene. Another performs a song about friendship that begins with the line, "Wouldn't it help... if we all could get along?" [I remember the tune. Call me sometime; I'll sing it for you.]

G]    I am stricken with anguish, having entered a room full of slaughtered puppies.

H]    Stan is trying to get my attention to tell me something. "Hey... HEY!" he calls, not softly, but I still can't hear him over the volume at which I am singing a heartfelt rendition of Caribbean Queen.

I]    Tucked away in a cabin, scrounging with the animals for food, we are the last people on earth.

J]    All of the above. [Hell, why not?]

The first to respond correctly in the comments gets a prize! I don't know what prize yet but I'll try to see about making it an awesome one. Don't forget to include your email address!