Then again, I was really excited to see King Lear last week, and the production was disappointing. Maybe I should lower expectations.
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Then again, I was really excited to see King Lear last week, and the production was disappointing. Maybe I should lower expectations.
Hmm.
Had an awkward encounter with a co-worker, where he was describing, in graphic detail, the things that went wrong with his one-night stand last night. I started off looking at him quizzically, then started sighing and twitching, then said "I don't want to have this conversation," and finally had to walk away rudely.
I'm really surprised, because in this day and age, I've never had to go beyond sighing and twitching. Who does that?
Seriously. She didn't even let him finish his story!
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I would definitely be up for a Cate Blanchett-anything play if it were in a relatively close distance.
But my conversations with Mara would probably give her twitches.
I'm sitting here watching some of the Michael Jackson Memorial Tribute special. Yes I know its insanely excessive, and I'm not going to mourn the man. But I can't look away. Al Sharpton's speach was hilarious hyperbole: the best part was "He taught us to love." Really? What? :lol:
I'm instantly reminded of everything surrounding Princess Di, and how that was overblown, also.
I love how Al Sharpton managed to put the election of a black president into his speech about Michael Jackson.
I am pretty sure he was born under power lines.
Why is this sandwich shop's best sandwich a special they rotate in only every six weeks or so?
Michael Jackson is dead???
There's a perfect character that works with me. Love her. She's about fifty, spray-tanned and with huge, crawling vine tattoos all over her arms and chest. She also has a couple of ass tattoos. I know because I've seen them. I've seen them because she e-mailed them to everyone.
She also wears tons of make-up and a huge blonde Godiva wig, has talon-nails, and dresses like Lindsay Lohan, with hooker heels. Her office is filled with hodge-podge random stuff, ranging from torture porn figurines to pictures of puppies. She has a loud, abrasive, squawking voice with a thick Baltimore accent.
She brings her dog to work on every day that she comes to work, which certainly isn't every day. The dog wears hair ties and sweaters and follows the lady around like a shadow.
She can be very tricky if you cross her, but the truth is that most of the time she has a huge heart. She'll go out of her way to make sure that people get things that they need. We all have a huge soft spot for her, even though she's a total oddball.
I'm thinking of her fondly today for two reasons: first, because they're changing my job this week, and I won't work with her anymore, and I'll miss the wackiness. Second, she made Jell-O cake for everyone today, and I'd forgotten how hard Jell-O cake rocks.
I work in a MENTAL HEALTH CLINIC and I didn't even tell you the worst parts. (Hint: it involves psychotropics.) One time she got mad and threatened to quit and join a bunny ranch, which probably would have made more sense.
And the second question has a verrrrrry interesting answer, but I fear I have said too much.
You guys should read Syrup by Max Berry.
Working at this publishing company editing this style of books (local and regional history) has lead to the recognition of some increasingly amusing tropes. After reading and editing more than one hundred books since I've started working here last March, some familiar things put in an appearance. If we're talking about early pioneering, you can bet that dear friend Bishop August Gottlieb Spangenberg and his diary will pop up.
Or if you're talking about anything remotely connected to horticulture or an early Frenchman, Andre Michaux is bound to arrive sooner or later.
If you dare to mention a local icehouse that cut blocks of ice from the frozen lake in the winter, you best mention that they were packed in sawdust to keep until summer. No other material is possible. Just sawdust. Always sawdust.
Everyone was secretly involved in the Underground Railroad, especially in the South. Anyone who did own slaves treated them like family.
Any day on which the president was expected to pass through a small town ended in disappointment.
The phone system was more personal back when than it is today.
On and on. I am amused.
Yeah, I work in book publishing as well, and, as a trivia buff, amassing a wide range of minute information is one of the most interesting perks.