True Story

The following is an entirely true story:

When I was a sophomore in college our entire campus was struck by the WORST flu I have ever experienced.  It was a hacking cough, plus barfing, plus a fever, plus all around misery.  Everyone caught it eventually.  Now normally, there is nothing particularly alarming about a bad case of the flu settling over a small campus community.  But this, was no ordinary flu.  This time is was different.

It was different……because of the monkeys.

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In January of 1995 two Oberlin students smuggled two Bolivian pygmy monkeys into The United States, by drugging them and hiding them in their pants.  Yes, you heard me- they smuggled monkeys in their pants.  Upon arriving back on campus the monkeys were dead from the drugs or from being trapped IN PANTS for the duration of an international flight, so the two students, being total assholes, discarded the monkeys in plain site in the dorm hallway garbage can.  Of course, some other unsuspecting student discovered the DEAD MONKEYS and called the authorities.  The students were arrested and thrown out of school.  It was a whole huge fiasco.

Meanwhile, the campus was disintegrating into a full fledged flu epidemic.  I have never been as sick as I was that week- and everyone was sick.  Rumors started flying about the campus being quarantined, and that we were all suffering from some sort of exotic illness courtesy of our dead monkey friends.  We all started referring to our sickness as "Monkey Disease".  It didn’t help matters that the movie Outbreak had just been released.

In the end we were not quarantined.  We all recovered from our illness.  But to this day, whenever we are good and sick, Obies call our sickness Monkey Disease.

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I am currently suffering from Monkey Disease and it is so uncool.

Miss Viola

Well, I only saw a few minutes of last night’s Miss America Pageant.  Miss Minnesota was not in the top ten, so she did not compete in the talent competition, aka, no Hindemith.  Bummer.  I lost interest in the whole thing after she was eliminated. 

With a sinking heart, I realized Michael Feinstein was one of the celebrity judges.  I knew immediately that this did not bode well for Miss Minnesota, or any of the other hard working, decent contestants.  I knew this because Michael Feinstein is the devil.

Okay, maybe calling him the devil is a slight exaggeration.  Slight.

Miss America

Okay, guys.  My mother just reminded me of something very important.  Tonight is the Miss America pageant.  Now normally the Miss America pageant would not be cause to celebrate, but this year, things are different.  This year, Miss Minnesota is….wait for it…

…..A VIOLIST!

I know!

My beloved home state, Minnesota, is being represented by a violist at the Miss America pageant.  The Miss America pageant is a highly accurate assessment of a young woman’s worth, so it is a great honor, and enormous step forward, that the viola community will finally be represented.  Although I do not know Nicole Swanson, I do know her older sister.  The Swansons are perfect Minnesotans- tall, blond, and nice….AND THEY’RE ALL VIOLISTS.  This is a wonderful day for violists and Minnesotans everywhere.

I am praying to GOD that she makes it into the top ten and then plays a Hindemith solo sonata, or something equally jarring, in the talent competition.  THAT WOULD ROCK SO HARD!

So set your TiVos, America. Let’s cheer on our new Viola Queen.

(Oh, and if the allure of the violist isn’t enough to excite you, this whole circus is being hosted by Mario Lopez, a.k.a Slater.)

Turnstile

Here is something neat I saw on kottke today.  It’s pictures of people walking through a NYC subway turnstile.  Make sure to click on each row and look at all the people.  I really like this.

Happy Birthday Court-nyah!

Today is Courtney’s birthday!  Hooray!

A Birthday Poem

Today my friend is 32.
She’s getting old,
and so are you.

In honor of her special day,
her husband Dave
will prolly say:

"Tonight you choose the restaurant.
If Boston’s what
you really want,

then that is where we’ll go to dine.
I will not pout.
I will not whine."

Have fun while your eating there.
Enjoy the mid-
priced family fare.

I hope your birthday’s lots of fun.
With balls of yarn,
and shining sun.

Postal

In my mailbox, it’s still 1983. 

Look at what the United States Postal Service sent me today:
(Click for a closer view)

That’s right, it’s a post card encouraging me to buy my stamps online, starring everyone’s least favorite bachelorette, Cathy. 

So, the next time my boyfriend tries to weasel out of a heart-to-heart by claiming he needs to go to the post office (not that old excuse), all I need to do, is order him stamps online!  Thanks USPS!  And to think, last time that happened I faked a pregnancy!  This online stamp purchasing thing is going to make my life so much easier. 

Now he can never leave me.

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Cathy is such a dumb bitch.

Calling In

Dude.  I have just had five weeks off.  Five weeks in which I frequently berated myself for sitting around doing essentially nothing.  Five. weeks. off.

Today, on what would have been my triumphant return to the working world, I had to call in sick. 

I am not the type to call in sick very often, but I have one of those hacking, phlegmy colds.  I don’t even feel that bad except for that I can’t sleep because of the barking cough, and my throat is an angry tube of despair.  But I am so gross.  The sniffling and the rasping are not the sort of symptoms that stand partners appreciate.  I hate it when I have to sit next to the obviously ill at work, so I thought it was only fair that I spare my coworkers the discomfort. 

I called in sick for my first day of work in five weeks. 

Pathetic.

Be Nice

Lately, every time I sit down to write a blog post I end up writing something snarky.   It’s weird because I don’t feel snarky these days.  Mostly, I just feel sort of quiet.

I just want to be nice for awhile.

Here is a picture of me and Jonathan in a a tiny UPS truck.

We were at the Allentown Art Fair.  This is also the day that I ate a deep fried oreo.

Thank You, Oberlin College

The year was 1996.  We were on our way to a Disco Orchestra gig.

I’m just going to let this picture speak for itself. 

I suggest you relax, and let it wash over you like a sweet summer breeze.  Don’t over think it.  You may be intimidated by it’s sheer awesomeness.  Don’t be.  The awesomeness is for you. 

It’s all for you.