Here goes...
Okay, so my friend Dylan ( musegryph ) invited me to start a journal a while ago, but I’ve been too chicken to try it until now. I have another blog called Box Five, but I can’t find it. I know, how do you lose a blog? Well, that’s just the kinda girl I am. Thought I had it bookmarked, but apparently not. I’ve tried every address combination I can think of, but none of them exist and I’ve been looking for it for so long that by now the server’s disk space has probably been recycled into something more useful.
So here I am at The Laughing Sphinx. Would have called it Box Five, but that was already taken. (I have an unhealthy Phantom of the Opera obsession, fueled by my love of French, broadway musicals and Gerard Butler.) But I needed a change anyways. My last blog was really pretentious. This one’s lighter. It’s Laughing!
But why sphinx, I’ll assume you asked. Being a thirty-year-old library drone means I work side-by-side with people almost ten years younger than me who are in college, going somewhere, on exciting career paths. I finished my Masters four years ago, so why am I still in the same old job that only requires a high school diploma? I’m stalled on my career path, that's why. I’m just a sphinx, hanging out on the road to Thebes, pestering my friends and co-workers, the real travellers.
Tell some riddles! you say. Sorry, don’t know any. But then I never maul anybody either. I know, the analogy needs work.
Let’s finish with some sphinx FAQs (or, rather, FGAs): No, it has nothing to do with the Laughing Sphinx, mortal enemy of Captain America (I just recently discovered, thanks to a Google search). Yes, it does have something to do with rhyming with “minx” (rarr). Yes, it is in spite of the fact that it reminds me of the word “sphincter.”
So here I am at The Laughing Sphinx. Would have called it Box Five, but that was already taken. (I have an unhealthy Phantom of the Opera obsession, fueled by my love of French, broadway musicals and Gerard Butler.) But I needed a change anyways. My last blog was really pretentious. This one’s lighter. It’s Laughing!
But why sphinx, I’ll assume you asked. Being a thirty-year-old library drone means I work side-by-side with people almost ten years younger than me who are in college, going somewhere, on exciting career paths. I finished my Masters four years ago, so why am I still in the same old job that only requires a high school diploma? I’m stalled on my career path, that's why. I’m just a sphinx, hanging out on the road to Thebes, pestering my friends and co-workers, the real travellers.
Tell some riddles! you say. Sorry, don’t know any. But then I never maul anybody either. I know, the analogy needs work.
Let’s finish with some sphinx FAQs (or, rather, FGAs): No, it has nothing to do with the Laughing Sphinx, mortal enemy of Captain America (I just recently discovered, thanks to a Google search). Yes, it does have something to do with rhyming with “minx” (rarr). Yes, it is in spite of the fact that it reminds me of the word “sphincter.”