Working on Halloween is like secretly spitting on a dead Grandmother before closing the casket. It doesn't matter to her, or to nature, or anyone else but it makes you feel sick inside and anxious. If you do it overtly so everyone can see however...
Wait, what was I saying? Oh yeah, working on Halloween sucks. But it's not because Halloween is particularly a bad day to work. It's because work sucks. And there's not much more to it than that.
In an attempt to carve a likeness of Senator Barack Obama into a pumpkin I think I've carved the image of a generic white man. I guess he's half, but he's far from generic; so to you Senator, I apologize.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Exploratory Exposition
After putting a great deal of thought into what exactly I should write about on this particular blog, I've come up with nothing. However, as it is a joint-blog, I cannot refrain from posting so long as my join-ee is still pestering me about it so I have to post something. So here I am.
It's 12:40pm PST and I am jubilant because I did not receive a phone call at 12:29 which would cause me to continue working into my lunch hour. Working in IT is not my dream, but it pays the bills (and then some) and in harsh economic times it may be appropriate to sacrifice one's dreams for soul crushing- repetitious-inanity that is helping people fix their computers over the phone while they yell at you (hurray!) Hopefully this will not be a terminal sacrifice so later I might be able to pick up the fluffy-goo remains of my dreams toss them in the sky where they will become saturated with oxygen and be poofy-fat and pink as ever.
All the same, I am grateful that I have a job and -circumstances as they are- can afford to live and consume and save just a little.
It's 12:40pm PST and I am jubilant because I did not receive a phone call at 12:29 which would cause me to continue working into my lunch hour. Working in IT is not my dream, but it pays the bills (and then some) and in harsh economic times it may be appropriate to sacrifice one's dreams for soul crushing- repetitious-inanity that is helping people fix their computers over the phone while they yell at you (hurray!) Hopefully this will not be a terminal sacrifice so later I might be able to pick up the fluffy-goo remains of my dreams toss them in the sky where they will become saturated with oxygen and be poofy-fat and pink as ever.
All the same, I am grateful that I have a job and -circumstances as they are- can afford to live and consume and save just a little.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Cross your Teas
AROMATIC FLAVOUR CLEAR INFUSION HOMELY REFRESMER IDEAL GIFT
So says each tea bag that i pull from the 100-pack of jasmine tea that i buy in china town to sate my tea habit. All true, provided you allow for some lax spelling. Tea in a bag rarely has the quality found in loose leaf, nor does it really allow the tea leaves quite enough room to swirl and flavo(u)r each drop of hot water. But tea is often needed during stressful, time constrained moments when the ritual of loose leaf cannot be accommodated. I keep tea bags in my purse, to use during prep periods at school or in a strange kitchen or at any moment away from my own cupboard when I can scrounge up some hot water. Lately, I've been keeping a mug in there too (purses are a lot like treasure chests, even to their owners).
My friends rarely come to me with a problem without being instructed to drink a cup of tea. Eye-rolling often follows, but many have adopted it as their own refrain, and it certainly doesn't originate from me. Tea is a healing drink in every part of the world, even including the bits without native tea leaves. It's one of the silver linings of colonization. When the British expanded their empire, they brought tea with them and a new group of people learned the quiet, fantastical properties of the drink. Like small pox, without the genocidal aspect.
The best tea comes in a pot, loose leaf, served with food. What food is irrelevant; I'm a fan of dim sum, but the important part is the sharing, the ritual, and the constant refreshing of hot water. As a child, I would wake up to the sound of a spoon stirring sugar into strong black tea; my parents always had two cups before heading off to work in the morning. When I went off to school, I began starting the day with tea and company as well; the dining hall was woefully short of good food but offered a selection of tea bags that was sufficiently removed from Lipton's. When I worked in an office for the first time, I had a regular affair with the water cooler, which had a lever for hot water (technology!). Now that I'm working in schools, one of the first things I scout out is the heating mechanisms in the staff lounge (the second thing is the bathroom). It's a topic that my friends and I can converse regularly about, because it isn't just tea, each cup is a different experience. And, of course, for friends going through a rough time, or whom you haven't seen in awhile, or would like to do something nice for, it makes an ideal gift. Just as the tea bag says.
So, I suppose what I mean by all this nonsense, is to tell you that it's a good time to go make yourself a cup of tea.
So says each tea bag that i pull from the 100-pack of jasmine tea that i buy in china town to sate my tea habit. All true, provided you allow for some lax spelling. Tea in a bag rarely has the quality found in loose leaf, nor does it really allow the tea leaves quite enough room to swirl and flavo(u)r each drop of hot water. But tea is often needed during stressful, time constrained moments when the ritual of loose leaf cannot be accommodated. I keep tea bags in my purse, to use during prep periods at school or in a strange kitchen or at any moment away from my own cupboard when I can scrounge up some hot water. Lately, I've been keeping a mug in there too (purses are a lot like treasure chests, even to their owners).
My friends rarely come to me with a problem without being instructed to drink a cup of tea. Eye-rolling often follows, but many have adopted it as their own refrain, and it certainly doesn't originate from me. Tea is a healing drink in every part of the world, even including the bits without native tea leaves. It's one of the silver linings of colonization. When the British expanded their empire, they brought tea with them and a new group of people learned the quiet, fantastical properties of the drink. Like small pox, without the genocidal aspect.
The best tea comes in a pot, loose leaf, served with food. What food is irrelevant; I'm a fan of dim sum, but the important part is the sharing, the ritual, and the constant refreshing of hot water. As a child, I would wake up to the sound of a spoon stirring sugar into strong black tea; my parents always had two cups before heading off to work in the morning. When I went off to school, I began starting the day with tea and company as well; the dining hall was woefully short of good food but offered a selection of tea bags that was sufficiently removed from Lipton's. When I worked in an office for the first time, I had a regular affair with the water cooler, which had a lever for hot water (technology!). Now that I'm working in schools, one of the first things I scout out is the heating mechanisms in the staff lounge (the second thing is the bathroom). It's a topic that my friends and I can converse regularly about, because it isn't just tea, each cup is a different experience. And, of course, for friends going through a rough time, or whom you haven't seen in awhile, or would like to do something nice for, it makes an ideal gift. Just as the tea bag says.
So, I suppose what I mean by all this nonsense, is to tell you that it's a good time to go make yourself a cup of tea.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with Blog and the Word was Blog.
substitution: hey!
irreverent: hi
substitution: we should start our blog
substitution: !!!
irreverent: okay
irreverent: start it
substitution: you don't want to do anything special to start it?
substitution: like...party hats?
substitution: confetti?
irreverent: haha
irreverent: we could
substitution: how would that translate to internet world?
substitution: oh, i got it. here you go: http://highfalutinlego.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-beginning-was-word-and-word-was-with.html
irreverent: hi
substitution: we should start our blog
substitution: !!!
irreverent: okay
irreverent: start it
substitution: you don't want to do anything special to start it?
substitution: like...party hats?
substitution: confetti?
irreverent: haha
irreverent: we could
substitution: how would that translate to internet world?
substitution: oh, i got it. here you go: http://highfalutinlego.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-beginning-was-word-and-word-was-with.html
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