So, where's my money?

When I was little, my family were constantly reminding me to not talk to myself. I've always done this, and still do. It isn't like I don't know what the answers are going to be. I just like to have a little company. But what I remember most is my grandmother telling me that people would think I had money in the bank if I talked to myself.

Still, no money in the bank. I'm going to keep talking to myself, though.

Blu.....bla...blacccckkk

Blooorghh...Blahhhh. Blurp.

Ah. I feel better now. Sometimes my brain needs to upchuck, like my tummy.

I Was a Weird Kid...

...and I haven't changed much.

When I was six or seven, I got a desk for my birthday. It was the greatest thing I had ever been given to that point in my life. I was ecstatic. When I was little, I played "office" the way some little kids play "school." I would just sit at my desk and pretend to do paperwork.

Today, I was working on redesigning a form that my office uses to process work, and I had to ask a coworker about some edits I was making. She commented on how well I approached editing the form as if I were someone using it, and I started waxing rhapsodic about forms in general.

"I love forms. They're like the artifacts of policies, and policies are how we express what our priorities and norms are. When you look at a form, you see what's important to people."

"...um...

...yeah...

...that's great, Kev. Let me know if you need my opinion on anything else."

Cripes. It's no wonder I always get pegged as the dork in the room.

Strong Bones and Teeth!

The weekend is for fun. Rest and relaxation. And building strong bones and teeth. I do that with a nice cup of ice cream and a walk around the pond. August is when JP Licks goes all out with their flavors of the month. They have this chocolate chunk insanity madness type thing. It's got cashews and chocolate chips and it's yummy. Hooray for the weekend!

An Allegory

If a man is addicted to heroin, and the increasing cost of the heroin drives him to burglary and theft in order to afford the heroin, cheaper heroin isn't going to solve his problem.

Topsy Turvy

The last few summers I have made note of the fact that I hear cicadas either on or after August first. This summer I was surprised to hear my first cicada in late July -- it may have been as long as two weeks ago. What is really strange is that now that August is here, I haven't heard a single cicada. I'm getting all thrown off and disoriented.

Mixed Media

I was reading the Boston Globe's new free monthly magazine, Lola, while eating my lunch today. The article I was scanning covered some suggestions for summertime activities. I'm not sure what the intent was, but many of the things listed were in boldface. I found myself lingering over the bold type, re-reading the sentences several times. For example, let's say one of the suggestions was, "summertime is a great time for a walk along the beach with an ice cream cone." My eyes would keep going over "ice cream cone" over and over. It suddenly dawned on me that I was waiting for a hyperlink. Like, where is the ice cream cone? Why aren't you sending me someplace where I can get more information about the ice cream cone? TOO MUCH INTERNETS!

Cozy

When I was a kid, I had a very visual way of thinking. I guess that's pretty normal. I would picture certain things when I thought of certain words. The one I really remember is that every time I heard or read the word "cozy" I would picture two things: the scene in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer when Rudolph, Herbie and Yukon Cornelius all settle down (together) in bed on the Isle of Misfit Toys, and the cover of my copy of The Cricket in Times Square. That was my favorite book when I was -- I think -- seven. I'm pretty sure my grandmother and mother read it to me, and I eventually read it myself when I was a little older. I've been perfectly happy living in small apartments in the city ever since.

What I Live (Here) For

Twenty-one more days until September. Autumn is the reason I will never leave New England. And as far as I am concerned, Autumn runs from September 1st until the weekend after Thanksgiving. I know it isn't good to be living in the past or the future, but when summer starts to get a little boring (weather-wise) I really start to wistfully anticipate the cooler, drier weather.

Agnostic

Here I was, thinking all along that the Sox weren't doing so well because I wasn't being a good fan and following along closely enough. See, there was a time when the West Coast trips were my favorite part of the season (and they used to happen later in the summer) because there was nothing better than staying up until 1 or 2 in the morning on a hot summer night watching or listening to a game. But those days are gone the way of my twenties -- and thirties -- and with the West Coast swing just before the All-Star break (and the break itself, which never really holds that much interest for me), I kind of fell behind in my support. I was still paying attention, but I wasn't really catching up on a daily basis.

I figured my sub-par support was responsible for their slipping in the standings. I mean, I knew Manny was up to some hi-jinx, but I didn't think it was causing much more of a distraction than usual. One thing I did think, though, was that the scuffle he got in with Youkilis a few weeks ago seemed really unusual. Yeah, yeah, pushing the geriatric travel secretary over in the clubhouse was kind of low class, but who hasn't wanted to punch a suit now and again? I mean, I am a suit, and I want to punch me all the time. Well, now Manny's gone and I'm off the hook. The new guy seems to be having an easy time finding that left field wall (both offensively and defensively) and Youkilis seems to be back on track. Hmmm, wait a minute. That all happened since I started paying attention again, didn't it?

Post-lunch Conversation, Friday Afternoon.

Me: "I'm so glad they installed a sink in the break room. Now I can brush my teeth after lunch someplace other than the men's room."

D-- and N--: "Ewwww."

N--: "You can't brush your teeth in that sink. That's where I'll be cleaning the coffee pot and my lunch dishes."

Me: "So what?"

N--: "That's gross. You can't be spitting your saliva where I wash dishes and prepare food."

Me: "Where do you go to clean the coffee pot now?"

N--: "The ladies' room-"

Me: "And the sink in the public toilet is OK, but my saliva grosses you out?"

N--: "That's not the point-"

Me: "Besides, you can't possibly believe that no one has ever brushed their teeth in the ladies' room sink."

N--: "But it's not sanitary to be spitting in a sink where people will be preparing food."

Me: "People will be washing their hands there, too."

N--: "So."

Me: "Most people's hands are dirtier than their mouths."

N--: "Speak for yourself."

Me: "Really? Which one do you use to wipe your ass?"

N-- and D--: "EWWWWWW!"

(This is how most conversations among the three of us end.)