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So, yesterday, I was walking down the hall at work, and I looked up, met my boss's boss's boss's eyes and, as if upon cue, the cup in my hand slipped.
It didn't fall, but it startled me and splashed me, and made me look like a doof to the boss's boss's boss.
So, today, I'm walking down the exact same hall, and my boss's boss's boss is there with his wife and child in Halloween costume — cute little bug. And, I say, “She's adorable.” Only to discover later, that she's actually a he.
Crikey. Good thing I'm already hired.
In honor of Halloween, I'm wearing my spooky, plastic Sandman watch. It doesn't keep time anymore, but somehow…that seems appropriate.
I'm on a Neil Gaiman kick at the moment. I'm listening to him read “Fragile Things,” one of his short works collections. It's interesting. Sometimes, he's dead on the mark. Sometimes, he's doesn't rise above being a rambling anecdotalist with a lovely voice and a reputation for being the nicest guy ever lived.
I've noticed one thing. He writes as if he were sitting across from you in a cafe, telling you about people he knows or even about himself. It occurs to me that this may be why people find his work so easily digestible.
Still, he freaks me out when he does an American accent.
!! Language not work safe … put on the phones …
My good friend Jason invited me out to see The Three Musketeers with him at the Seattle Repertory Theater. It was a rollicking play with much sword clashing, some pistol fire, unending cape-fluttering and lots of leaping, gamboling and climbing.
Despite the addition of a sister for D'Artagnon, it worked. Well, actually. She wasn't nearly as jarring as expected. She added to the humor and sass.
The actors did a fabulous job.
My favorite moment was when the three Musketeers made their first entrance on stage. They slid down ropes. It was heart-pounding thrill!
Best of all: there was no singing.
Second best of all: drool-worthy costumes.
Third best of all: economical, clever sets.
I highly recommend this show, if you get the chance to go see it before it's done.
Two brooms were hanging in the closet and after a while they got to know each other so well, they decided to get married.
One broom was, of course, the bride-broom. The other was the groom-broom.
The bride-broom looked lovely in her white dress. The groom-broom was suave in his tuxedo. The wedding was wonderful.
After the wedding, at the wedding dinner, the bride-broom leaned over and said to the groom-broom, 'I think I'm going to have a little whisk broom!'
'IMPOSSIBLE!' said the groom-broom. 'We haven't even swept together!'
(no idea who wrote it)