Friday, July 28, 2006

Narnia Other Door Please

As I wandered around looking for a conference room to commandeer for the morning, I noticed a mysterious addition to the floor. Now that I think of it, there were some Workplace Resource types milling about and changing signage to conference rooms and closets.

Where there was once signage for a Janitor Closet, an ominous sounding Field Productivity sign took its place. I remember what the closet used to look like -- identical in size to a nook one would find in his/her (diversity in writing good. subliminal training sinking in. suddenly want to drink more Coke) home wherein one would store a mop, a broom, and perhaps a duster or two. But now! Field Productivity! I asked around but no one seems to know what the new room is for. All they know is that the room seems to get heavier traffic near quarter end. And rumor has it that salesfolk who visit the Productivity Closet, tend to emerge a superstar...or not at all.

Monday, July 24, 2006

River Runs Thru It

I dunno why, but I really can't stay awake on planes. Try as I may, I rarely stay up past the announcement of the Very Important Announcement that explains all the safety features on the Airbus 319. On this flight, I got up to the part of the floatation device and the pull-cord, but blacked out during the demonstration. To this day, I'm not sure what the pull-string does. Since we'd be hurtling toward the sea at roughly 300 mph, I imagine that I'd pull the string and out pops a mini-bottle of Wild Turkey. Who knows? Not I.

Falling asleep is a good thing, and I don't mind; it's the perfect way to wile away the hours on a long flight. Every now and then though, when I'm totally out (out out as in REM sleep mode during Derivative Pricing class), my jaws go slack, and my mouth falls agape like a trapdoor. This used to be problematic on road trips with friends because I'd become a target for three-pointers using airline peanuts. That was a long time ago -- planes don't serve peanuts anymore. At any rate, the peanuts were helpful in that it prevented me from staying in mouth-agape-out-cold mode. These days, with no one to roust me, my mouth stays open. And sometimes (like 15 minutes ago), I wake up with a start as a stream of drool curls around the corner of my mouth. I usually catch these stealthy streams before it has a chance to go very far (foiled again! would've gotten away with it if it weren't for you pesky kids!), but today, the NORAD defense systems did not kick in on time. The dribble ran unabated past my chin before I was able to wake up. Worst part is, I instinctively tried to recover the errant stream with a sluuuurrrrrpt sound, but did nothing more than attract attention to myself. I imagined that everyone was looking my way, music scratching to an abrupt halt in a old time western saloon as the Stranger rides into town. For about 15 minutes, I stay motionless with my eyes closed, hoping that when I do open my eyes, I won't find the lady next to me pointing and laughing...

But life in the airplane returns to normal, and I sit in seat 10C writing this blog.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

What's in a Name?

Dashing to a meeting, I ran into an exec from my new department. I'm awful with names, as an earlier post illustrates. I sat there for an interminable snapshot in time wracking my brain. The funny thing is, I could totally see her email alias floating in my head. I just couldn't remember how to pronounce her name. Her name is spelled "Jere" but I couldn't for the dwindling life of me remember if it's pronounced "Jerry" like Seinfeld or "Jeer" as in what I get for not remembering. So I compromise -- "Good morning Jeeeery."

As polished as she is, there was only the briefest flicker of front-desk-get-me-security before she returned the greeting with perfect pronounciation on my somehwhat harder to remember name...

Part of a Nutritional Breakfast

This morn was the first day I participated in a community runner's group. We got together at 6am, which waking up aside, was refreshing -- especially given the utterly ridiculous children's-toys-melting-on-the-asphalt weather we've been having.

The exercise-induces endophrines were short-lived however. In my haste to get my butt out of bed this morn, I had forgotten to pack my shower shoes; those cheap rubber flip-flop beach sandals often worn, well, on the beach. Why does that matter? Well, if you have to ask, then you have never had the pleasure of utilizing a public shower facility. Picture the delectable sensation of running one's toes through the fragrant mildewy slime on the bottom of a trash bin that has been sitting outside with the remnants of last week's dinner party. Yum! That's why shower shoes. ..

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Whatchoo lookin' at???

Reminds me of the expression a fellow commuter had on her face as she looked up from her Blackberry and saw the tail end of a Mustang veer across her bumper.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Guru on High

Ok so I'm a food 'ho. Buy me a Chik-Fil-A (We Didn't Invent the Chicken, Just the Chicken Sandwich) and I will arrive at the meeting 1 hour early and help set up the room. I'm also pretty non-picky with what I eat - call me equal opportunity.

But last nite, I met the Masta. Well not met, actually, as I was too in awe to speak. The halo of greatness was just too blinding.

There I was, back in the bustling metropolis of Raleigh. I ordered room service - a reuben sandwich with fries. Couldn't finish the dang thing, so I shoved the tray thru the door and gave it no further thought. A few hours later, got a hankerin' for some coffee so I meandered down to the lobby for a fix. As I was leaving, I saw that the remnants of my meal was still in the hallway. I get my coffee and head back to my room for an exciting night of white-knuckled adrenaline pumpin' email cleanup. That's when I saw him. Youngish guy, about my age, but perhaps 20 or so pounds heavier. Untucked, slightly greasy looking button-down flopping defiantly over a tech company giveaway tshirt. He reached down to my leftovers, picked out a french fry, and popped it into his mouth. "ugh mustard. I hate mustard," he muttered. He then adjusted the strap on his laptop case, and strode casually down the hall. And like a cowboy riding into the sunset, the mystery stranger shuffled down the dim hotel hallway. I stood for a moment in awed silence, with only the flickering
flourecents witness to this cosmic moment...

This my friends, is why I travel.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006


Fourth of July fireworks...

These things typically start with lots of pomp and anticipation beforehand, but are real slow to get started. This one was scheduled to start at 9:30pm. Five minutes after the scheduled start date, the first poof goes up in a brilliant shower of red and greens. Then...silence. Three minutes later, a second one goes up. Equally pretty. But then more silence. Another three minutes. Then a third, then prolonged silence. The crowd's hushed anticipation gradually changes to murmurs of discontent. If this were a human body, I thought, I would prescribe more dietary fiber.

Suddenly, as though my thoughts of roughage, exercise, and plenty of water were what the doctor ordered, the skies were alight with explosion after explosion of intense colors and light! And after one mighty prolonged burst of shells, the crowd erupts in applause, sighs in contentment and the show is over.

Happy Independence Day!

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