On naming my ganglion

I have decided to name my ganglion cyst Angela Lansbury because like my cyst, Ms. Lansbury is stately, sophisticated, and a tad lumpy.

In desperate need of a body bib.

Honestly. Every day, no matter what, some big glob of something falls onto my shirt, pants, or both. If I'm eating soup, a big broccoli clump will jump out of the bowl and onto my shirt, smearing cheese all the way down. If it's a sandwich, a big fat chunk or something or other will fall off and spread mayonnaise all over my outfit. I'm not kidding, no matter what the frick I'm eating it inevitably ends up half in my stomach, half all over my clothes.

Do you think they make these in lady size?

I am now an ID-clad individual.

And it's not going so well.

Upsides to wearing an ID:

• Looks official.
• Picture isn't too bad.
• It's kinda like jewelry.

Downsides to wearing an ID:

• Itchy neck.
• ID falls into soup.
• ID then spreads soup all over pant.

There is an alien bone growing out of me.

I have THIS growing out of my wrist! Can you even believe it? It's so upsetting.

Fittin' in is hard to do.

I just did the stair trick outside of someone's cubicle. She did not laugh even though she was watching me.

Then I noticed she was on the phone.

How can something like that come out of something like this.

Please take a good, hard look at this pup.


Adorable, right? Like melt your face off adorable? Yeah. That's what I thought. It's a "puggle" - combination pug/beagle. And it's the cutest thing on the planet.

Except when it farts in your face.

Jade, the disgustingly captivating young puggle my roommie and I frequently care for is the gassiest creature that has ever lived on this planet. Ever. And her gas isn't just frequent and putrid, but long lasting. You'll be cuddling her and she'll innocently and gently paw at your sweatshirt strings when all of the sudden you take a breath...and foul, reeking puppy butt air drifts sleepily into your nostrils, only to stay there until a good five minutes goes by, no matter where in the apartment you try to hide.

She can't help it, obviously. It's not like she eats dead people or rotting flowers for her meals. She eats puppy food and is well-cared for. It's just, I don't even know. I can't describe it. It's sort of what you would feel like if someone pooped on a plate, microwaved it, then waved the plate around under your nose for a while.

And I'm not even going to go into what her poo looks like.

I have to admit...

I've done it. You should too!

When elders try to act young it is beyond adorable.

Teaching my coworkers the rules of flip cup today was sort of like watching a just-born fawn teeter around a grassy knoll, trying to comprehend newfound movement as its wobbly knees decide whether to trust the weight of the body they're attached to.

It's for a story. But God bless them, they weren't getting it. " So I flip it, but it doesn't have to be in any particular position?" "And if I don't flip it, I have to slam another drink?" "Wait - it's like a relay?!"

One of my coworkers almost had a heart attack after I told him quarters is "a little bit old school". But then they all started throwing out phrases that the reporter could use to disguise himself in a bar full of youngins such as "Man do I love that Fifty Cents!" or "I am definitely down with that."

After asking the bar what time they usually "get rolling," the reporter found out that the event he is attending doesn't even start until 10 pm. "That's when I'm usually flossing my teeth!" he exclaimed.

He's totally going to blend in.

New job blunders...and I haven't even started.

All week I've been telling people the only thing I hope for with the start of my new job is to not do something stupid.

Alas.

I had one responsibility this week with regards to this job, as my first day isn't even until tomorrow. It was to sign my offer letter and fax it back to the company. But I couldn't find the fax number, and it wasn't included in the email the letter was attached to, so I emailed the director, asking him where he would like me to fax the letter. Unfortunately I got an automated response because he was out of the office.

The assistant was out of the office as well, so I again emailed the director telling him I would simply fax the signed letter to the main line and make sure his name was on the cover sheet. I had a deadline for getting the letter back so I figured this was the best idea.

Again, alas.

Though he was out of the office, I got an email back from the kindly director, alerting my attention to a sentence in the middle of the offer letter (that I supposedly read) telling me exactly what number to fax it to. Frick! Then I got an email from him replying to the second email I sent, telling me that sending my letter to the main line would have been a bad idea because it's a confidential HR document. Double frick!

In the end, I faxed it to the correct number, and only the correct number, but can you believe I screwed up this early in the game? Ughghghghg.