On-Screen Narrator Take-Out…

June 24, 2006….We used to order from a place called Phil’s Original BBQ

The food is pretty good, and the customer service is pretty decent too.

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The days are getting shorter.

A nice little moonrise from late November of this year.

Mary Jo’s 50th Birthday

At the very first house I ever lived in, we had next-door neighbours, Greg and MaryJo. Though my family moved out of that house in 1988, we have kept in touch over the years, and decorate easter eggs together every spring. Every time I see the Curtises, they give me a box of Smarties. It’s been that way for years. When my sister was born, and was old enough to eat solid food, she started getting boxes of the little Canadian-style M&M’s too.

It’s MaryJo’s 50th Birthday, so I’m giving back… in jpeg format. From hand-knit wool sweaters, to Kenya coffee, to fart jokes about, Happy Birthday lady, have a good one.

update: I actually ate most of these Smarties… even after I’d written on them with Sharpie…

New Kid on the Block

In the spirit of re-posting from old journals and blogs, here’s another long-lost post:

Yesterday, shortly after 8am, I’m sitting at my desk, bleary-eyed and waiting to go home, 10 hours into my 12 hour shift. I’m pretending not to be checking my email for the hundredth time.

Off in the corner of my office, I have a security monitor, and under my desk is located the all-powerful door opening button. During off-hours, I have the power to decide who gets in and who stays locked out. This power only works when unauthorized people aren’t so sneaky as to catch the door while it’s closing behind someone else.

The door buzzer goes off. It’s our secretary, early as usual. I let him in without much thought, and then realize that he’s been followed by some guy I’ve never seen before. Lazily, I assume he’s the secretary’s friend. That way, at least I don’t have to go find out who the stranger is that I’ve just granted access to the building.

Three minutes later, Terry (the secretary), comes around the corner of my desk with the stranger. He introduces him, just like he always does with new employees.

“Laura, this is Nate, our new intern. It’s his first day.”

At this point, I’m almost fully aware of what’s going on. I’m aware enough to fake a smile, extend a handshake and welcome this student to our company.

“Oh, Hi Nate. I’m Laura. Good to have you around.” We shake hands, and then I turn back to my computers, satisfied that the meeting went well, the stranger I opened the door for is allowed to be here, and that I am now safe to go back to waiting to leave.
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