bloody ice cream
Today is the annual employee appreciation picnic (or PicNic, as the organizer calls it). Free food during worktime? What's the catch? You have to go through the mini-receiving line of the executive director and the deputy director before you get to the food. Both are actually really nice guys, but it just seems so awkward to stand and talk to them. I mean, maybe if they came by your table munching on a turkey leg to chat for a couple minutes it'd seem more natural. But to put them before the food...I mean, surely I'm not the only one who just wants to get a plate of food and sit down already. But no, I have to talk to the two bigwigs and somehow not make an idiot of myself when all I can think about is if they overcooked the meat or if the potato salad is too mayonnaisey.
As it turned out, the ordeal wasn't too bad. The executive director realized who I was by where I sat plus the bowl of mint patties that I keep by the door to my cubicle. The deputy director was like, "OH! I've heard of you!" wtf? I really was quite taken aback. I mean, Chris got an "...and you are...?" despite doing some maps and graphics for him quite recently. I was like, "Uh...I hope that's good..." He said I was doing a good job. Cool. But freaky.
After agonizing for a bit over dessert choices, I decided to go with the Chocolate Creamie over an Orange Creamie or an ice cream sandwich. Our fridge/freezer sucks ass, so our ice cream novelties are all supersoft and melty, so this was a special treat: a totally frozen confection. Once I got back to my desk, I broke into the Creamie...and it was extremely frozen. No wait, make that eXtremely. For some dumb reason I did not back off of the aggressive "Five Dollah Make You Holla" popsicle-eating technique. For those of you who don't get that...I'm not going to explain. So anyway, the inner lining of my mouth got stuck to the Creamie all around, and I had to rip it out. And my Creamie had tiny bits of blood on it, plus a tidbit or two of tissue.
So that led me to think about Kelly's bloody pastries, and how now thanks to her I envision girls taking big ol' bear claws and using them as tampons. I never imagine cinnamon rolls, or strudel, or any type of cheese- or fruit-filled danish. It's always the bear claws. Anyway.
a week without you
thought i'd forget
two weeks without you and i
still haven't gotten over you yet
As it turned out, the ordeal wasn't too bad. The executive director realized who I was by where I sat plus the bowl of mint patties that I keep by the door to my cubicle. The deputy director was like, "OH! I've heard of you!" wtf? I really was quite taken aback. I mean, Chris got an "...and you are...?" despite doing some maps and graphics for him quite recently. I was like, "Uh...I hope that's good..." He said I was doing a good job. Cool. But freaky.
After agonizing for a bit over dessert choices, I decided to go with the Chocolate Creamie over an Orange Creamie or an ice cream sandwich. Our fridge/freezer sucks ass, so our ice cream novelties are all supersoft and melty, so this was a special treat: a totally frozen confection. Once I got back to my desk, I broke into the Creamie...and it was extremely frozen. No wait, make that eXtremely. For some dumb reason I did not back off of the aggressive "Five Dollah Make You Holla" popsicle-eating technique. For those of you who don't get that...I'm not going to explain. So anyway, the inner lining of my mouth got stuck to the Creamie all around, and I had to rip it out. And my Creamie had tiny bits of blood on it, plus a tidbit or two of tissue.
So that led me to think about Kelly's bloody pastries, and how now thanks to her I envision girls taking big ol' bear claws and using them as tampons. I never imagine cinnamon rolls, or strudel, or any type of cheese- or fruit-filled danish. It's always the bear claws. Anyway.
a week without you
thought i'd forget
two weeks without you and i
still haven't gotten over you yet