So I've made the jump to a dedicated feed reader for all my blog-viewing needs. I could just bookmark the sites I'm interested in, but I'd really rather not be bothered to actually go to the sites in question to see if they have any new posts. I'd much a rather a bodiless automaton do it for me.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about and can't quite figure out why I would want an invisible robot to read what chickens eat, go ahead and jump down to the paragraph below that starts "I've been drinking a lot." I recount an embarrassing bathroom incident that might be more to your liking.
So. Feed reader. In a not completely unexpected act of conceit, I added dreadcrumbs to my list of feeds, even though I know very well when it gets updated. Lo and behold, something others keep telling me (but I always ignore) became apparent. I should really go into ballet.
No, no. Sorry. What really became apparent was that I should be naming my entries (and probably tagging them) a little more intelligently, since my post list is just a long undifferentiated list of "Microstory Mondays" and "Friday Fives" with the occasional "Silent Laughter of The Elder Ones" to break them up. Who is to know which story or list is which? The same people who enjoy a tale about "Calling Home" may not feel the same about "Fun With Sociopathy." Of course, those people are probably long gone, but still. I'm not gone. So I'm going to dispense with the titles that are really categories and move the titles up to where they belong. The End.
But not really THE End. I did want to share a bathroom moment, as I've gone a couple months without doing so, and I really need to maintain my loo cred.
I've been drinking a lot of water today to cleanse my system of all the mercury I ate, so that necessarily means many trips to the workplace water-closet. On the most recent of these I was blessedly alone in the facility and had gotten to the post-hand-washing period where one traditionally dries their hands. Alas, there was nothing to do it with. We don't have a blow-dryer type dealie, and our two paper towel dispensers had nothing poking out of them. This could have meant two things. Either we were out of paper towels (likely), or the last person to get one didn't pull hard enough to properly extract the head of the next towel in line (just as likely).
So, before I resorted to wiping my dripping paws on the Three Day Pants of Questionable Cleanliness I was wearing, I had to make sure there weren't any towels hiding in the recesses of the dispenser.
Unfortunately, the two dispensers (at either end of the facility) are mounted in such a way as to prevent people of my height from easily seeing their undercarriage. Determining if any towels are hidden away inside thus requires me to half-squat, bend over, and crane my neck. Not a dignified stance, but not "I'll-never-show-my-face-at-school-again!-NEVER!" undignified.
However, add to that the strange tyrannosaurus-like way I was holding my hands because of their wetness, and the fact that I made the regrettable decision of remaining in the squat stance as Iwalked lurched from one dispenser to the other. The second dispenser proved to have some towels inside, so I pulled some out, and as I moved to return to my standard posture, I noticed one of the visiting Vice Presidents of the company standing halfway in the bathroom doorway. He had obviously seen my Dripping Creep, which, while odd, didn't seem grounds for the expression he had on his face. It was as if he had just seen a poorly shaven Kodiak bear eat its own entrails. A little fear, but mostly disgust. Worse yet, he didn't just swallow it and go hide in a stall, he turned around and left the bathroom altogether. Usually I only have this effect on women, so I checked to make sure my clothes weren't stained with vomit, blood, or feces, but found nothing.
I don't know. It kind makes me wonder if I don't have some sort of skill I'm not taking full advantage of if I can cause that kind of reaction in people without even trying. Should I be in a different job? Circus freak, maybe? Bouncer? Stunt monster? Not high paying, I'd guess, but if I'm missing my life's calling...
Oh well. I'll have to think about it. It may be the job I'm looking for is "Dad." And I have that one already.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about and can't quite figure out why I would want an invisible robot to read what chickens eat, go ahead and jump down to the paragraph below that starts "I've been drinking a lot." I recount an embarrassing bathroom incident that might be more to your liking.
So. Feed reader. In a not completely unexpected act of conceit, I added dreadcrumbs to my list of feeds, even though I know very well when it gets updated. Lo and behold, something others keep telling me (but I always ignore) became apparent. I should really go into ballet.
No, no. Sorry. What really became apparent was that I should be naming my entries (and probably tagging them) a little more intelligently, since my post list is just a long undifferentiated list of "Microstory Mondays" and "Friday Fives" with the occasional "Silent Laughter of The Elder Ones" to break them up. Who is to know which story or list is which? The same people who enjoy a tale about "Calling Home" may not feel the same about "Fun With Sociopathy." Of course, those people are probably long gone, but still. I'm not gone. So I'm going to dispense with the titles that are really categories and move the titles up to where they belong. The End.
But not really THE End. I did want to share a bathroom moment, as I've gone a couple months without doing so, and I really need to maintain my loo cred.
I've been drinking a lot of water today to cleanse my system of all the mercury I ate, so that necessarily means many trips to the workplace water-closet. On the most recent of these I was blessedly alone in the facility and had gotten to the post-hand-washing period where one traditionally dries their hands. Alas, there was nothing to do it with. We don't have a blow-dryer type dealie, and our two paper towel dispensers had nothing poking out of them. This could have meant two things. Either we were out of paper towels (likely), or the last person to get one didn't pull hard enough to properly extract the head of the next towel in line (just as likely).
So, before I resorted to wiping my dripping paws on the Three Day Pants of Questionable Cleanliness I was wearing, I had to make sure there weren't any towels hiding in the recesses of the dispenser.
Unfortunately, the two dispensers (at either end of the facility) are mounted in such a way as to prevent people of my height from easily seeing their undercarriage. Determining if any towels are hidden away inside thus requires me to half-squat, bend over, and crane my neck. Not a dignified stance, but not "I'll-never-show-my-face-at-school-again!-NEVER!" undignified.
However, add to that the strange tyrannosaurus-like way I was holding my hands because of their wetness, and the fact that I made the regrettable decision of remaining in the squat stance as I
I don't know. It kind makes me wonder if I don't have some sort of skill I'm not taking full advantage of if I can cause that kind of reaction in people without even trying. Should I be in a different job? Circus freak, maybe? Bouncer? Stunt monster? Not high paying, I'd guess, but if I'm missing my life's calling...
Oh well. I'll have to think about it. It may be the job I'm looking for is "Dad." And I have that one already.
Hm... Interesting.
Unfortunately when you're actually in high school that "half-squat, bend over, and craned neck" is the "I'll-never-show-my-face-at-school-again!-NEVER! undignified" stance at my school. Especially when you realize that you're in the wrong bathroom.
Posted by: Enna Isilee | June 15, 2007 at 07:04 PM
I was suffering from a serious lack of "bathroom moments", but now I am complete. And rolling on the floor laughing.
Posted by: Liz | June 17, 2007 at 12:21 PM
You know, you are one of the few people out there who can make me laugh with a story about paper towels.
Posted by: Calliope1of9 | June 24, 2007 at 11:45 PM
Thank you.
Posted by: Stubby LaRue | July 06, 2007 at 11:11 AM
??? Stubby LaRue is Dein? Or am I missing something?
Posted by: Enna Isilee | July 06, 2007 at 11:29 AM
hahaha. that's hilarious. i really can imagine that pose.
Posted by: clairedelune | April 18, 2008 at 04:16 PM
I s'pose this is the best place to mention that I think it would also be cool if you'd add a comment feed. Or not. Whatevs.
Posted by: Gretchen | April 21, 2008 at 10:14 PM