Lights Out, Party On

I love when the power is out at work before anyone even gets there because the atmosphere quickly devolves into this post-apocalyptic underworld deal as people start arriving. I accomplished more coworker bonding, more productivity, and more life camaraderie in the face of a natural phenomenon than I ever thought possible.

Us grunts covered so many topics while we tidied up our work spaces and flipped through relevant magazines (there’s little else to be done without a hard drive) such as the weather, non-work friends, our morning routines, the necessity for department flashlights, and the weather. I know!!!

It reminds me of this enchanting horrorfest. Feels like it was just yesterday.

Even the vending machines were a no-go!
photo courtesy of Flickr and chilie

Also, I am the poster child for dumb consumers everywhere. I went to a corporate coffee dealer to get some cocoa drink today. And they had regular hot chocolate and signature hot chocolate. More or less no difference except a ball of butter and three-quarters of a dollar in price. Of course, I’m all about getting the reg’lar, but something small and sinister beckoned me with, “Why regular? Get signature! Treat yourself!” So I did.

There’s no reason to listen to that voice. But I do. Also mine doesn’t ask nicely. It yells and demands. “GET THE OVERPRICED SHIRT! YOU’LL NEVER WEAR IT, BUT YOU NEED IT LIKE YOU NEED ME. AUGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

I will buy anything, even better-looking money.
photo courtesy of Flickr and pinguino

Lastly and clearly, I’ve been off coffee long enough to get a contact high from just visiting a place that sells it. Placebo-oooooh, snap.

More Power to My House (Please)!

So there was a summer storm yesterday—the first of many I’m sure. In fact, I’m pretty confident about that statement (global warming asks: Is that a challenge?). Anyway, it led to a power outage, and a pretty massive one at that.

I was driving to a comedy show slightly after the worst of the weather, and all I saw along the way were candles in windows. It felt very old timey, especially the trees strewn every which way in the road. That’s a straight 1700s callback, yo! I felt like Paul Revere driving through the town trying to warn the colonials about their impending modernization (I believe in creative liberty and justice for all!).

The point is, my daddums left me a message on my voicemail (that I listened to on the way back from the show) that went a little like this:

Hey dude, the power is still out so get something to eat before you come home. There is a flashlight that you can use when you get home but call me first because you’re not going to be able to find it because it’s dark here. In fact, you’re probably not going to be able to do much of anything.

(I would like to imagine he left this message by candlelight while stitching his own version of the U.S. flag.)

How romantic!
photo courtesy of Flickr and Peter Becker

The significant otro and I got coffee this morning. That’s right; the boyfie is debuting on the internetwork. You will learn more about him as life continues, as it is wont to do. Anyway, he requested the coffee to be super sweet. And guess what? The coffee was super sweet. We got customer served. In fact, I’ve been semi-irresponsibly nursing it since this morningtide. It’s so sweet that it’s hard to even talk about it without rubbing my tongue over my teeth to make sure they’re not decaying faster than the half-life of uranium isotopes (giggle, snort). I might add water, which is a first for my coffee-related endeavors.

In sad news, I made one of the worst lunches ever today. Probably in my top five worst lunch choices of my life (and that includes string cheese salad). I will spare the details. But hot tomato soup and cold tofu? No.

Unhand me, vile flavors!
photo courtesy of Flickr and Photo Mojo