so whats & chicken putts

started the new job last week.

i have been observing all this week.

yesterday, we took a 45 minute break to watch a bunch of dudes chuck rubber chickens down the isle and they get points for getting them into carefully placed trash receptacles or a plant at the end. they yell "trees-ies" if someone gets the said 20 pointer.

i was in awe.

later in the day, we watched as the janitor chick walked around to tend to the plants and trash and noticed the orphaned battered plant.
she exclaimed, "something happened here huh..." no one responded....
she continued to communicate silently with her plant and eventually walked away.
(plant whisperers have a 6th sense. they just know.)

the cubicles nearby just laughed.
the guy next to me said, "it said on her little cart, 'save the plants.'
i just couldn't bring myself to tell her that we were chuckin rubber chickens at her plant!"


then this morning,
i get to my new trainer's desk where he had a putting green lined up from the night before
(apparently a morning ritual).
the men lined up,
"welp, lets see what kind of day its going to be..."
i made one in heels. (thanks, dad.) he didn't get a one.
apparently that's a good day.

this, friends, is why we go to college.

to get salary jobs that they make sitcoms out of.

but seriously, its going to be great.
in fact, it is already proving to make for some blog-worthy material.

Fa-ra-ra-ra-ra—ra-ra-ra-ra...

thank you so much to whichever brother complained about the
matching sleep-pants
(even though i KNOW you all wear them all the time!),

this years theme was "plaid tidings"

i will narrate in brief:

only real scottish men know how to sport them the best,

neighbor/friend/designer dudes know how to make them the best,

apparently plaid is a huge turn-on...go fig.

all night as we finished our homemade gifts,
we watched santa online visit the world...
apparently he came to our house!

before we crack em, we do the breakfast thing with G-MA...
beautifully traditionally perfect as usual.

our christmas was homemade...
which made some of those involved cringe at first....
but look what came of it!

yeah- my BROTHER made all of this:

cute sister-in-law made this:
(don't ever say you aren't crafty again...)

3 scots at work...

i made kennabug these cute flowers that attach to a crocheted headband...
and yes, i just might be selling them soon on my shop.
(of course, the idea was inspired by this cute crafter)

expect a cheesy card after christmas, with this foto in it:

not this one

dad in a kilt: awesome.
dad posing as a scottish dancer, in a kilt: priceless.

after we could change in to semi-normal attire,
we caroled/rocked out to a few of our favorite humans in the neighborhood...

this cute family,

which means sneaking in to this most adorably decor-laden home
to tag bill's ears with some more holiday cheer...

sorry steph—couldn't help it...
i swear we didn't take anything though...

all the sisters (& inlaw ones) got sewing machines...
(i already had one) that came with a free sewing class on the 26th with Peg!

homemade christmas:
just as sappy, with less tears.

way too much time...
that could have been spent playing and laughing at nothing with those crazies i get to be stuck with forever...

...good thing we still know what it's all about...

a note on the homemade factor:

apparently the neighbors got the hint too...
this has been the best treat year ever with about 5 containers of yummy salsa and apples with dip and homemade bread and jam...
way less on the cookie/sugary naughties this year- it's been great!

oh, and dear rich, lo, jace, and cam...
i don't like having christmas without you...
lets not do that again, shall we?

hope you all had a lovely christmas too!

MEMORANDUMTO: All Black Parents

SUBJECT: Re: Naming your children
DATE: Effective Immediately

Please don't start naming your children after President-elect Barack Obama…

Obamaneshia, Obamalaya, Obamaria, Barakesha, Barakyah, Barakakhan, etc.


Give your children a chance to grow-up without being burdened by a ridiculous sounding name.

a foto essay: my usual route to my unusually unusual day.

the beginning...

love the leaves... wish they wouldn't dry when you try and save them...

my school...

love this...

how unfortunate...

a cute girl makes this stuff and sells it... i bought some earrings myself..
though not with obama on them...

virginia's fall foliage = awesome.
virginians + first black president = possible crazies.
duke ellington + black president = assembly, fun jewelry,
and a whole lot of emotional people.

...should be a great day today...

Virginia is for lovers?

oh really? i have qualms with that statement:

#1 - what makes YOU the expert on the matter... huh? huh?
i guess i am not really sure who would even know enough about virginia to think that all lovers would love virginia...?
or even that love happens here anyway...
maybe you should check the stats on how many people come here to love more freely to get out of the tyranny that is running rampant in their own state?
what if only YOU, random college kid shirt designer man,
just thought it would be "funny"?

#2 - and how can this place be called "home of the lovers", when everyone seems to whip out their alaskan snow gear when it is 53° outside?! sorry... now, maybe i did just come from utah where 40° means snow... but that does not warrant this kind of behavior....
nor does it prove that any of you know how to be lovers...

wusses...

[and this comes, with love, from a true Arizonan)


end scene.

i love black people

[sitting on the bus alone]...

bus driva: ...ya know those dresses? the ones that gots a turtleneck/tie thing that like hangs down... and theys gots no sleeves?
me: (looking around the bus to confirm that she is speaking with me through the windshield) yeah?
bus driva: (pause)... when they supossa wear those? i mean fits like hot out... then they not gonna want to have like that on their neck! but fits cold... they don't got no sleeves!
me:...yeah... funny.

(five minutes of silence whilst reading my new political book of wonderment)

bus driva:...and you know those mini skirts and the hairy boots? ...what's up with that? I mean, if it is cold enough to wear the fur boots it is too cold to be wearin the mini skirt. period!

<-- (i knew what she was talking about, but this was the only thought i couldn't shirk)

(at school, supposedly in a "study hall" and I am "supervising" my kids as they "study." right. but really who cares.)

they start singing and dancin round to songs i recognize..."soldier boy...." i have my computer, so i bust the song out and jam with myself across the room. one of my girls notices and says: "damn, we gossum
white chocolate in the room!"

(this was, by the way, after the other intern was walkin behind me and said, "damn girl, you got a butt!")

maybe in the next life i will get to be black... until then, i feel right at home...