I went to J.D.'s work today. It was sort of weird, but the weather is cold, windy, and rainy here, and J.D. didn't want me to have to walk home from a doctor's appointment. So, I sat in the corner by his desk reading, for 3 hours, trying to be invisible. On the bright side, it's a good way to make me actually do my reading.
I admire J.D. very much for what he does. I couldn't do it. And now I also feel like a bum for complaining about the opportunity I have to do what I like.
While reading I did encounter an interesting coincidence. It appears that Bill Ayers' group, Weatherman, bombed and blew up the house where James Merrill was born, 18 West 11th Street. Imagine that. What a small world.
Right now J.D. is asleep on the couch with Sophie cuddled up beside his head. It's a funny, cute sight.
There was a party at J.D.'s work tonight, some special November event that we didn't plan to attend, but since we were there, we wandered down and had some free dinner. (Fried Ravioli, a St. Louis thing). They had really good white chocolate chip cookies. I also learned things. (Keep in mind for this story that they were serving unlimited alcohol at the party since 3:00 p.m., and we got there around 5:30 p.m.).
One of J.D.'s coworkers (a woman) yelled across the tiny table at me: "Do you READ?"
I admire J.D. very much for what he does. I couldn't do it. And now I also feel like a bum for complaining about the opportunity I have to do what I like.
While reading I did encounter an interesting coincidence. It appears that Bill Ayers' group, Weatherman, bombed and blew up the house where James Merrill was born, 18 West 11th Street. Imagine that. What a small world.
Right now J.D. is asleep on the couch with Sophie cuddled up beside his head. It's a funny, cute sight.
There was a party at J.D.'s work tonight, some special November event that we didn't plan to attend, but since we were there, we wandered down and had some free dinner. (Fried Ravioli, a St. Louis thing). They had really good white chocolate chip cookies. I also learned things. (Keep in mind for this story that they were serving unlimited alcohol at the party since 3:00 p.m., and we got there around 5:30 p.m.).
One of J.D.'s coworkers (a woman) yelled across the tiny table at me: "Do you READ?"
I replied, "Yes, I read."
"What sort of stuff?"
"Mostly older things, classics."
(Frown) "Anything paranormal?"
(Me smiling, thinking I may have a chance here). "Yes, actually, I'm really interested in spiritualism and even some poetry written using the Ouija Board."
(Bigger Frown) "Oh, well, you should read Paranormal Erotica. It's fantastic, not boring!!!
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Paranormal Erotica! It's really sexy, like an X rated movie except with werewolves and vampires!
To my good fortune, they started playing the electric slide at this moment, and I was spared any description of hot lycanthrope on homosapien action. I did get a comforting look from J.D. that said, "I'm sorry," and his eyes communicated that he was about to step in, had the electric slide not come to the immediate rescue. I commented to him, "I certainly haven't written that chapter yet."
"What sort of stuff?"
"Mostly older things, classics."
(Frown) "Anything paranormal?"
(Me smiling, thinking I may have a chance here). "Yes, actually, I'm really interested in spiritualism and even some poetry written using the Ouija Board."
(Bigger Frown) "Oh, well, you should read Paranormal Erotica. It's fantastic, not boring!!!
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Paranormal Erotica! It's really sexy, like an X rated movie except with werewolves and vampires!
To my good fortune, they started playing the electric slide at this moment, and I was spared any description of hot lycanthrope on homosapien action. I did get a comforting look from J.D. that said, "I'm sorry," and his eyes communicated that he was about to step in, had the electric slide not come to the immediate rescue. I commented to him, "I certainly haven't written that chapter yet."
Picture from Wikipedia
1 comment:
I had forgotten how drunk everyone in St. Louis gets.....it being the home of the beer and all. And the fried ravioli. Which I never ate anyway because it is always meat and never cheese, which almost never makes sense to me....why not offer both? And provel. How I miss avoiding the provel. Oh the nostalgia.
I forgot to tell you they finally cleaned up my dead rat on the Dan Ryan. When I did not see him yesterday or Monday, I thought, "I feel so empty." By the way, I don't know why they name the highways here and then call them only by their names...now that I think of it, probably because they are all the same numbers (90, 94) but then it would be confusing because they are different branches, and some are toll, some are not. Like there is 94 that is the Edens and 94 which is up north and then there is 94 that is the Bishop Ford which is down by Indiana. There are some parts, however, that got renamed but the name never caught on. Specifically, I am thinking about tollway 88, which was renamed the Reagan tollway. Most of the time, it is just called 88 on traffic reports. I guess Reagan just didn't catch on. However, the Jane Addams tollway (90 past O'Hare airport) DID catch on really well....my guess is because there was more than one 90 and there is only one 88.
Anyway, enough rambling. I need to force myself to work. Like you said, I should not grumble about doing the work I love, especially when I am paying to get it done.
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