Meanwhile....

Well, while I'm working on that, you can enjoy another sample from Poet Smurf. I think he's going to try his hand at prose here, and be warned. This is not for the easily offended.

The Time I Died
By ???? ????
She bit my knee playfully on a cloudy day, hard enough that she had to spit out a little morsel of my flesh, blood dribbling down her mischievously pleased chin, dark blackberry stain red, and her impish eyes danced from behind a wall of thick hurried air that wouldn't crumble outward into my lungs so I could scream. Her blond hair wisped in the cold caustic breeze that assaulted my face, carrying bitter flecks of ocean across the stretch of sand and seaweed where they pelted us, the strong boy with strawberry hair and a hole in his leg, and the delicate waif with razor teeth, letting warmth and crimson spread beneath her and seep down to bathe the crabs. "I love you," she whispered like Claudius' poison in my ear. I scrabbled away, bellowing at last, pulling a yell up from every part of me like a tuning fork, a yell that was swallowed by the grey sky atop his hoary oceanic sister. The girl followed me on hands and knees like a puppy, a horrible demon cur with leathery gargoyle wings that wants to be friends but can't keep its tremendous weight from squishing your brittle soul, while something about its sleek scaly elegance keeps you aroused until it kills you. I ran and ran and fell, salt in my mouth and deep into the bite in my skin, and I rolled over quickly with a look of flagrant horror on my strained face. "You are not the only victim here!" she kept shrieking through injured tears, and for a moment I dumbly wondered if the imp was telling the truth, if there were others who had fallen into her trap. Then in dizzy desperation I stood down or up or aside or some direction and grabbed for the shovel, which I would swing around and around in a fabulous arc until it connected with the side of her shallow beautiful face. But there was no shovel, only a boy in wet blue denim shorts, and a teenage demon waiting for her breasts to fill her big sister's faded floral bathing suit, and lots of sand, and maybe some soggy bits of kelp and the flaccid blanket my mother had wrapped me in when I was younger to protect me from the elements. Even my essence was being carried away into the water, leaving no way of sucking it all back inside through a straw in the sand like the way they drink coconut milk in cartoons, and no chance of getting my life back from inside her belly without risking the loss of even more. As I bent to gather up the bits of myself and try to pressure them back into place, she came upon me, descended, and devoured the rest of me whole. She returned alone along the tortuous yellow-lined road that evening with stains on the front of her hand-me-down bikini, though witnesses in the town say they saw her in the company of a muscular shirtless young man with a blank stare on his face and a strange limp.

Thanks, Poet. I needed that.

Carp

I'm too tired to make it coherent, I just discovered. Tomorrow, friends, tomorrow.

Honey Bunches of Oats

Okay, I'm turning this over to Greedy for today's post. Have at 'em, smurf!

Northern California
February 2003

I got a phone message from Ivy, my friend who worked at the survey place at the mall. She told me that I fit the demographic they needed for their newest survey, and that if I could get myself to the mall in Fairfield in the next two days, I could test a new product: Honey Bunches of Oats with Peaches. Now, you have to understand how much I love Honey Bunches of Oats with Strawberries. Those little amazing astronaut-style strawberries are the best thing since, well, I don't know. I was going to say "since sliced bread," but I don't know why people use sliced bread as a reference point. I mean, lots of better things have come out since sliced bread. Like, um, bunjee jumping, and the Beatles, and those electronic doors at the grocery store that open by themselves. Why don't they have those doors at more places, like closets or dentist's offices? But I digress.... Anyway, freeze-dried strawberries are the new flagship in my mind for saying something is the best thing since _____. That's how much I love them. So I was terrifically excited to go and test this new flavor. Oh, and to get paid fifty bucks for it, too, which I forgot to mention. Unfortunately, I couldn't get anyone to give me a ride up there. I even contemplated taking the bus, but that would still mean a five mile walk each way just to get to the bus stop. In the end, I had to let the opportunity slip me by. It made me so sad. I seriously lamented for about a week. Not only had I lost the fifty dollars, but I had lost the chance to eat a new delicious cereal and the bragging rights associated therewith. Over time, the pain faded, and I was able to let it go. The final sting came only this morning, however, as I tried the Honey Bunches of Oats with Peaches for the first time. And you know what? They're not very good. And it irks me to know that I might have been able to fix that.

The end.

Wiggle to the Rescue

Work was Hell this afternoon. I got some customers who said the service was excellent but the food was "yucky and cold." The owner placed me on probation for not having gotten help (yes, that's two probations now). The tips were lousy and it really just sucked all day. Then I had a one hour break between shifts, and Wiggle came and ate with me. And guess what? It totally cheered me up. And tonight was great, and I was extremely cheerful all night! Thanks, Wiggle! You're a good friend.

A Conversation with Rachel

You really should read my last post, "Dude, Where's My Job?" before proceeding.

Tuesday:

"Thank you for calling [Name of Restaurant] in Provo. This is Rachel. How may I help you?"

(All right! Rachel is an awesome and hilarious girl!)

"Yeah, Hi Rachel, this is [Smurf's real name]. I'm just calling to make sure I don't work tonight."

"Oh, hey, Smurf. You actually do work tonight."

"WHAT! You're freaking kidding me!"

"Haha, yeah, you're not scheduled to work. But actually the manager DID have me call your phone just now to see if you could work for Erin tonight."

"Oh, sorry, I have plans."

(The plans are watching a movie with Shoebox and the rest, but she doesn't need to know that.)

"So you can't work tonight?"

"No. Sorry."

"And why NOT?"

"Well, I'm meeting with some other students."

(technically true, right?)

"Oh, and why couldn't you have done that yesterday when you weren't coming in to work even though you were scheduled?"

"Well, I just found out about it."

"Mmmmm-hmmmm. I bet."

"Right. What's that supposed to mean?"

"It MEANS that I don't believe you. ESPECIALLY after what you tried to pull yesterday."

"All right, all right. I feel bad enough about that as it is. I don't need YOU rubbing it in."

"Well I don't know who else is gonna rub it in for you."

"Dude, why are you giving me all this sass? And what's with this sassy accent? Why are you trying to sound black or something?"

"What do you MEAN why am I trying to sound black? I AM black!"

(Oh crap. This is my manager, and has been for about a minute now.)

"Oh, crap."

"What you say 'Oh, crap' for?"

(Time to change tactics and apply some counter-sass.)

"Listen, woman, if you're gonna just grab the phone away and switch who I'm talking to, you best TELL a body. 'Cause Here I am all this time thinking I'm still talking to Rachel."

"Well? That ain't my fault! I tell you what, you pull this crap again I'ma fire your butt. And also, I don't even love you anymore."

"Sad. Well, I still love you."

"That's right you do. I just saved your job; you BEST be loving me."

"Oh, I do."

"You need anything else?"

"No, I'm good."

(I'm playing the meek card by now.)

"You need me to check your schedule tell you when you're coming in next?"

"Yes ma'am."

"All Right. You're closing cash with me tomorrow."

"Oh, man. I'm so glad it's you and not David. He doesn't do a very good job and we end up staying forever."

"Yeah, you just watch, I'ma have you outta here by 11:45 at the latest. At the LATEST."

"Oh, I know it. Everyone knows you're the best manager to close with."

"That's RIGHT I'm the best manager to close with. Which is why I love you again."

"You're the best, Alecia."

"I know it. See you tomorrow, and have fun at your made-up study group."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

*Click*

"Phew!"

Dude, Where's My Job?

Well, I woke up a bit late today, but that was all right because I'm off work until Wednesday. I did some stuff, and then around 1:00 I got a call from work. They wanted me to come in and work untill 4. I said I would be there in a while. Then I lollygagged and painted monkeys for about an hour and finally went in. When I got there, my big brassy sassy manager was giving me this look that you can only give if you are a black woman or have extra joints in your neck.

I decided I'd better say something. "What?" I said with a level of attitude intended to match hers. I didn't come even close.

"Where have you been?" I think she has a ball and socket in there.

"Sorry," I said, with ostensible sheepishness. "--"

Yeah, that's as far as I got. "Sorry!? I hope you were in the back of an ambulance or something! You better have REAL good story about why you missed the first two and a half hours of your shift!"

Luckily, I'm pretty good at math. "Wait a minute. I only got the call an hour and a half ago."

"Yeah, and you were supposed to be here an hour before THAT."

....

Soon she had me convinced. I had actually been scheduled to work this morning, and must have written down my schedule incorrectly.

After the tongue-scourging, she made me sign a probationary form. This was a piece of paper that informed me that should I be more than five minutes during the next thirty days, they can fire me. I assume it meant five minutes late, but I didn't want to press my luck by asking. It made me sad to fill out the form, but I'm sure I can be on time for a month. I made a whopping six dollars in tips after that, but after a while I was done and as I was leaving to come home, my boss told me she still liked me anyway, and just had to give me the sass because it's part of her job. That was nice.

Anyway, I conducted FHE tonight since they're redoing the groups, so I just decided to do my own thing with the few people I have met in the new ward. We played do you love your neighbor. Which was fun.

At least, it was fun until I got a phone call from work, asking me why I wasn't there for my second shift. Um, whoops. I guess I forgot to check before I left. Who knows what will happen next? That wasn't exactly the best feeling, you know? I keep meaning to ask Toasteroven and Pa Grape for a blessing. I don't know why I thought I could start school without one. Anyway, if you readers out there care at all, send a prayer for my job up to Heaven along with all your own problems, please. I'll need a bunch, I think.

Smurfs are Blue

Well, I haven't answered a single question since the Board went down. And I haven't updated my blog. And I wasn't really going to until the Board was back up. But today I read Still Struggling's post about becoming addicted to our blogs, so I guess I'd better put something up. And while I don't feel like writing anything, maybe I'll just let my little Smurf friends have a go at it. This is one Poet Smurf wrote.


One Morning

I peeled the sun and took a bite
And threw us into frozen night
So we could sneak around and play
(We never could by light of day)
Through static yards and neighborhoods
And into black inviting woods.

I grabbed the clouds and pulled the drain
To let out all the drippy rain
So I could hold your hand and run
Without the awful glare of sun
Through walls of rain so shiny wet
To wash our brain so we forget.

I took a deep breath just for fun
And blew the stars out one by one
So we could lie in solid black
With only dark beneath our back
Through years of brightest pain behind
But missing all because we’re blind.

--Poet


A.A. Melyngoch said it sounded like a Barenaked Ladies song. Shoebox would be proud, I'm sure. Oh, and Poet just stopped by, and he wants me to point out the pun in the title. I'm starting to become A.A. Milne, writing at my desk with all my imaginary friends coming by and critiquing what I've written about them. But I'm never so clever. Ever.

Remember the Titan

I hope everybody's just as excited as I am for January 14. That's the day when Huygens lands on Titan! We're finally going to find out what's under the mist! Well, if everything goes right, that is. Maybe we'll find out why it's the only moon in the solar system with a dense atmosphere. I was thinking about throwing a Titan party on that day, but it would seem a bit anticlimactic, I think, since we'd have to wait for the images and data to be sent back, and then for scientists to interpret them. And then I'd be surprised if it even got a three-second mention on the 11 O'clock News that night. At any rate, this landing is furthest from Earth ever. Join me on the 14th in at least sending a smile Saturnward as we think about the great scientific event going on up there. After all, it took $3.27 billion dollars to sate those scientists' curiosities. And again, that's if everything goes right.

The Veil is Thin

Well, I was going to tell this story anyway, but since Novel Concept brought it up, here's the story of my discovery of my toaster oven:

I honestly didn't even know that the words "toaster oven" referred to something other than a toaster. I thought it was just a midwestern or old-people way of saying the same thing. Then one day a few weeks ago I had Uffish Thought and Novel Concept over at my house and Uffish Thought noticed my toaster oven, and commented on his/her jealousy of it. I was astounded. I'd noticed that something was there on the counter during the several months I'd been living there. From time to time I'd probably even looked at it. I'd never really paid too much attention, though. Over the next few days, I kept going into the kitchen and looking at it. Sometimes I'd tamper with it inquisitively, like when a monkey or raccoon stumbles upon a piece of modern technology, like a watch or laser gun. "How does it work?" I wondered. Eventually I put in some bread. It was great! I tried a bagel. Also great! I found myself trying all sorts of things in there. Everything came out so crispy and delicious. I no longer would need to plug in my Char-B-Cue every time I wanted a grilled cheese sandwich! So my question is why didn't I know about these appliances when I was growing up? Why am I just now discovering the toaster oven a year into college? And four months of being exposed to it on a daily basis? I guess I should just look forward to the time I have ahead of me, and not regret the time I've missed. That is my whole story for today.

Night of the Phoenix

Phoenix and I hung out tonight. We decided to see Ocean's Twelve, since my headwound has mostly healed (I got it this time, too!). So we were just chilling at his apartment answering questions on his multiple computers before the show, and we decided to get some strawberry ice cream to make milkshakes. So we went to the Creamery on 9th. CLOSED! We tried the freshman creamery. CLOSED! We tried the Wymount creamery. ALSO CLOSED! (That's supposed to be read aloud in a voice like the buzzer that tells you you're wrong on Family Feud. Go back and do it now with the voice.) So we decided to stop and see why the Moroni on the temple doesn't point east to answer an upcoming question. Phoenix had a theory that it DOES point east, but the mountains and streets are not exactly cardinally aligned. Unfortunately, he forgot his compass. So we got out of the car so I could find Polaris. It wasn't cloudy, but the lights of the temple were so bright they blocked most of the stars. I found Cassiopeia and Orion, but I couldn't even find the big dipper. There were two stars near the horizon that could have been the end of the handle, but my glasses are too old to be able to see whether the second one in was a binary star (Mizar and Alkor). So as far as we could tell, from the temple, the North Star is behind a mountain. Anyway, Phoenix is going to go back with the compass. So then we went to the creamery at Wyview. LIKEWISE CLOSED! So we went to Macey's. And we found strawberry ice cream for $1.50. At this point I realized I'd put my money in my pocket BEFORE I'd changed my pants, so I told Phoenix he'd have to buy it. We got in line and put it on the black rubber conveyor belt, but then Phoenix remembered he'd left his wallet on the floor next to his couch. We ended up driving all the way to my place and then to his and then we were back at Macey's.

As we were walking back down the freezer aisle, Phoenix said, "Oh, I just remembered my emergency $20 in the car!"

So I said, "Oh, man, I was going to ask if you had any change in the ashtray or anything."

Then HE said, "Oh, man, I DO have tons of money in my ashtray!"

So after four creameries and two trips to Macey's those were destined to be the best freaking milkshakes ever experienced by humankind, right? Well, they were all right, I guess.

Actually, I was pretty unimpressed.