Nom de Plume

There is absolutely nothing worse than seeing a cute guy order a frilly drink from Starbucks. I mean really, what normal woman wants to date a guy who drinks venti nonfat soy vanilla mochas with a shot of caramel and extra whip?

The fact is, there are certain things coffee was never meant to do. If you have to take a breath in the middle of reciting your coffee order, get in your car and drive to the nearest Baskin-Robbins instead. You’re not drinking a coffee, you’re drinking a milkshake. Dissolve a No-Doz in it, and you’ll be able to up your caffeine intake while you’re at it.

We had a contest at work to name the conference rooms (we moved into a shiny new building this week) and one of the bright young things, frappucino firmly clutched in one hand, won. “Let’s, like, name them after COFFEE DRINKS!!”

Let’s, like, gag me with a chocolate-covered spoon.

Yesterday, confronted by my woeful dog’s face as I was about to put him in his kennel, decided screw it, I’m taking him into work. After all, we just moved buildings and I have my own office. So we trundled in, Harry in his big box with the $45 pillow the chiropractor foisted on me (good for something), three chew toys, and a ragged blanket.

Only to find out that while my boss and her boss were fine with it, the building absolutely positively DOES NOT ALLOW pets in the building. So I had to take him home. One problem: His box is huge (no way to hide him) and there’s a hefty fine for having a dog in here.

So we stuffed him in a paper recycle box and smuggled him down the elevator and into the car.

He was bummed.

On the other hand, he’s quite enamored of the dog park. There are lots of real dogs to play with there.

Interesting book review at spiked online. I was struck by the assertion that nothing is valued for itself, and is instead valued for what it leads to, whether education, knowledge, or art–something I’ve been saying for years. The result, according to Feludi, are institutions that are more concerned with making people feel good about themselves and/or their relationships with others and less concerned with the quality of art or education. Which, of course, seeps, into every cultural aspect of life, dumbing institutions down.

Why, when I am depressed, am I told to “snap out of it,” yet when Steve is depressed, it’s the end of the world?

Over the dog, that is. Steve steadfastly maintains that he hates Harry P. yet told me this morning that “Harry’s beefy 11 pounds FORCED him to snuggle last night” even though he didn’t want to.

Driving through Seaside, Oregon on the way to Oswald State Park to surf, we always laugh at a little place with homemade signs in the window called “Thugz off Drugz.

Imagine: “Hi, I’m Bob, and I’m a thug off drugs.”

Anyway, this weekend, we looked for the signs–and found they had moved to a bright new facility with real signs–and a huge declaration over one door: Intake Center.

Harry had the best weekend of his short little life. He doesn’t think he’s a pug; he thinks he’s a Rottweiler, and HP just goes and goes and goes until he passes out cold. Which he did several times over the weekend. We had a pretty good time too, finally managing to snag a spot at Oswald State Park, surfing both Saturday and Sunday. I feel like I did better than I have in a long time, catching wave after wave. Steve says it’s because I finally waxed the board.

Yesterday, full of good cheer, I swung into the gas station on the way home from work and pumped a tankload of … diesel.

The fact that the nozzle fit PERFECTLY into the tank should have been a dead giveaway; most of them are far too small for my car’s antiquated system and gush gas all over the place if I’m not careful.

They towed me up the road to a service station, where my tank was emptied once the mechanic had picked himself up off the floor from laughing. Then I zipped on home. No problem. But I have provided endless amusement to all the males I know; Steve was hysterical and Wayne chuckled, which for him is the same thing.

Have the afternoon off since we’re in the process of moving office buildings. Worked from home in the a.m. with a furry little canine nestled on my lap. Now, clean the pigsty and then tire the potsticker out with Koya and Elizabeth in Seward Park.