It has just occurred to me as I write this that I spend my night-time hours listening to (mostly) coherent wide-awake people telling stories or talking about science via podcasts, and I spend the daytime hours listening to sleepy incoherent people saying stuff like this: Several people [yawn] wanted to either take pizza from me or give me pizza, [yawn] but they also wanted to talk about my dream, and we were standing around but then I realized it was just a dream and it wasn't appropriate for them to be inside my house, so we went outside, and there was more pizza, but there was some laundry on the line and I couldn't reach the shirt. -Dreamer from L.A.
See how fun this is? It's like waking up with someone all warm and sleepy and semi-out of it without the hassle of having to negotiate all the time. Your week will be like that too: warm, sleepy, and semi-out of it, but unfortunately, there will be hassle. I'm sorry to bear that prediction.
Wild ginger. (Asarum caudatum). I had a lovely time doing the advice column game with a few awesome smart people the other day. The game, in case you're unfamiliar, goes like this:
1. One person (and it's always me, fyi), reads the headline. The players have to decide if they're better than, equivalent to, or worse off than the writer of the letter. [Hint: better than is a safe bet. This might sound arrogant at first, but once you play for a while you'll see my point. How often have you had a problem that is best solved by writing to a random advice-columnist?]
2. I read the letter aloud.
3. We each propose our response.
4. We read the actual response, and decide how we fare (better than, worse than, etc.)
Okay, we can play that here, people! Just send in some advice questions. I'm so on it.
gigantic meadowrue (Thalictrum something or other). I heard something interesting about lines (do you like how I didn't say I listened to not one, but two podcasts about lines? Yes, I know! That's me being slick.), which is that there aren't many you can't buy your way out of anymore. You can pay for expedited review, you can pay to get into a HOV lane all by yourself, you can pay to get out of the airport hassle, and even pay extra to skip the lines at water parks. But there's one line that is totally in old-fashioned order, which is the queue to get in to SNL. There's one guy who goes every week, stands out there all night, just to make sure no one cheats. I'm glad that's not my volunteer position, but still, I do wish there were more situations where there was an actual arbiter saying, "You, time out. Bad behavior." But, let's each be our own line-watcher. Don't cut, be kind, apologize if you hurt someone, etc. Don't rely on that guy, I can't remember his name, but he is out there every week telling people not to cut, and that you can't hold spots for people who aren't there, and so on. And I think he might have some terrible medical condition too. Be that guy. (Not the part with the medical condition though.)
Common Turks Cap (Malvaviscus penduliflorus). Oh, the flower that never really opens. Arrgh.
I don't even know where to begin. Pollinated by hummingbirds though. That's a start.
Bougainvillea (Bougainvillea sp.). You people love the alabaster, you do. I kind of see the allure, all smooth and impenetrable, but I don't think it works out for you. Kind of one-sided. But that's not the point here.
My booty call boss asked me yesterday to help put together interview questions so he can hire my replacement. I know. It's like, "Hey, you know better than anyone what I like in a gf; can you help me find a new one?" Of course I said yes.
But I had just listened to a podcast on that very subject, interview questions; they suggested to ask, "What do you think I'll have for lunch today?" because it gives an indication of how people behave when they don't have a clue, which is most of us all the time, and you want to weed out the people who get mean or cocky or too uncomfortable when they don't know the answer. I didn't say I heard it on a podcast, though. I said I heard it on the radio. The radio doesn't sound quite so cat-lady-ish. The radio could have just been on. Like in the car, or a store or something. It's not like I'm some weirdo that listens to podcasts about random shit, all night long. Oh, excuse me, Booty Call Boss, a dream has just come in on my phone, gotta go. You see what I mean? Always say the radio, and act a bit vague. "I heard something somewhere recently -- maybe it was on the radio?"
Anyway. He said it was a great question and he even typed it up on his list and showed it to me, there it was as question #10, and I was kind of pleased until someone else told me there's no way he'd ever ask that question, he was just trying to make me feel better. Right? I'm so damn easy. It would totgally make me feel better about everything, mortality, loneliness, how I keep wrecking computers, disappearing friends -- the whole damn business -- if he would just ask the people who are about to get my job for way less money if they can guess what he's going to have for lunch. Oh my god.
So sorry that I didn't get to all of your flowers this time. But I will!