http://www.globalorgasm.org/

*cue laugh track*

Now, don't get me wrong, I think their hearts are in the right place, and I'm sure it's not too difficult to convince people to follow along. Easier than getting me to participate in National Try To Quit Day, anyway. I'm sure it also makes for a pretty fantastic pickup line down at the co-op, but really now. That's some serious hemp underwear wearing hippie shit.

Not that there's anything wrong with that... it just strikes me as a little naive. Or high. Whatever. No, really, read the blog. You'll see. :)

That said, I heartily endorse and encourage this activity. Buy some contraceptives or AA batteries or whatever and change the world.

Wish I could remember why it mattered to me. It
doesn't matter to me. It doesn't matter to me
anymore. Now that you're feeling fine, I'll
admit that - though I know it's coming down, and
see it shattering me - it doesn't matter to me,
and I'm not sadder for seeing it come. I'm not
going to run. I will just come when I am called.
You want to cut me off because I took too much,
but don't leave me alone. Take off your scarves,
your winter coat. The night's too cold. When we
met I should have said you're like a sister to
me, how all that kiss her just seem like puny
suitors I can see through, how none will do, not
for you, how it might as well just be us two. And
when I pulled you by the jacket from the
clattering street, you started flattering me, you
started saying I was so strong. String me along,
but I can't become all that I'm called. And I
can't claim to know what makes love die or grow,
but I can still take control and so refuse to just
go home, back down the hall. And as I crawl, as
finally all the false confetti blooms up in this
attic room, I'm going make my stand. I want to
see both of your hands put down the phone. I
won't let you go, although the moment stole my
self-control from us all and now it can only end
with a fall.
- Okkervil River, "It Ends With A Fall"


We went to FunFunFun Fest today. It was an awful lot of fun. Perhaps even FunFun, but the jury is still out on that final fun. I mean, is that even attainable? Or can you only close half the distance between FunFun and FunFunFun with each gloriously amusing step, constantly coming closer to your destination without ever truly reaching it? It's pretty zen, actually, and I'm not entirely sure I even understand it -- I'm a mere acolyte, as is evident in my dress. Which is to say I do not yet dress like I've been shat on by a thrift store*,  and I really don't want to.

I may never achieve true FunFunFun. But can anyone, really? Ever?

Honestly, I don't care. I got to see Okkervil River, who put on a really awesome live show and played a couple of my very favourite songs, and unless something even more awesome happens in the next few days, that totally made my week. <3!

* If you're wearing a crisp, shiny, brand new 'vintage' band t-shirt you're not fooling anyone. Least of all Wren, God (choose your favourite(s)), and myself. We see through you, and we're whispering about you behind your back.

So at work we have a steam well along the server/expo side of the line. During breakfast service it usually has a third pan of Oatmeal, a third pan of Grits, and some melted butter for the servers to butter their toast. Well, your toast...  or whoever the customer happens to be. I suppose they could butter toast for themselves and eat t if they wanted to.

Oh yeah, I cook. Like, for a living. Really. I think everyone knows that, but I just realized that if they didn't this probably doesn't make much sense at all.

Anyway, the steam well.The very bottom of the well is kind of corroded and dirty. It's not a terribly huge deal since food goes into clean stainless steel hotel pans anyway, but it is important to the story. Anyway, at one point one of the servers is like, "Hey, Deirdre, there's brown stuff in the oatmeal." And I'm all, "Buh?" So she goes, "I think the stuf at the bottom of this floated up into the oatmeal.". Harnessing the awe inspiring power of my average human intelligence, I reasoned that it would be pretty difficult for scuzzy rusty bits to float up into the oatmeal through 1/8 of an inch of stainless steel. Then with fearsome might of my poorer than average (yet enhanced by sexy glasses) human eyesight I spied the toaster to the right of the team well, indicated that with a tilt of my head and walked away to let the server do the math.

Later that day after I'd put out the two daily soups and left some outmeal out just in case we had any late breakfast orders I saw the same server explaining her theory to the restaurant manager, who seemed to think it was perfectly reasonable. I was like, "Uhm , no, that's absurd. The toaster is right next to the steam well. One of you burnt toast and scraped it too close to the oatmeal.", and was treated to the sort of exasperated looks usually reserved for people who chew with their mouth open in polite company.

So basically f you've ever wondered what it might be like to be the smartest person in the world, I can tell you -- it's lonely. 

Disclaimer: I'm not actually all that smart. It just goes to illustrate the level of the people I'm working with. And I mean, you think I'd be ruling over them with an iron fist and dazzling them with far-off future innovations like fire and hygiene, but I'm not! They rule me, and my inner child weeps.