Have you ever drained the contents of a chip bag without getting crumbs all over your face, shirt and in many instance, car?
My answer: No. And they normally end up in my bra too–which is itchy.
Name game
I’m sure choosing a company name is difficult. I haven’t ever done this, so I don’t know for sure, but I can commiserate with the folks out there thinking these things up.
Still, I wouldn’t have chosen to brandish the letters “ABMC” across the side of my van (though someone else in Boulder did), even if those were an acronym for my enterprise.
It’s just that those particular letters can be easily misread as “A BM, see!” And no, I don’t want to “see.”
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I News and the public records search
I’ve been going through old water and sanitation records this morning* for my gig with I News.
As I’m sifting through old files with piles of papers, I lick my fingers in order to peruse the sheets more quickly.
Which makes me wonder: I’m sure this isn’t the first time somebody has looked through these files. And likely, they were using the same finger-lick flipping method that I am.
Which means I may well contract some wacked out disease that’s been lying dormant and unassuming for the past 15 years.
Awesome.
*OK, so I wrote this a while ago. Update: I’m still alive.
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Summer in Boulder
Don’t you just love the smell of freshly whacked weeds?
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My dad’s new pet
Backstory: My dad would not let me get a puppy when I desperately wanted one in fourth grade. (Not that I’m still bitter or anything.) He is, however, very entertained by bugs, even when they’re not living in the out of doors where they’re technically supposed to be. Instead, he and his former coworker Casey would set up ant circuses at the office, enticing these and other little critters out of the walls with sticky treats and salty snacks. Having recently changed offices, and with Casey long gone, Dad was in need of some new company. Hence the following e-mail:
Yesterday, in an email correspondence with Casey, we decideded that with no ground squirrels to feed and watch play tag, and no ants to entertain, that I needed to get another praying mantis. Then, this morning, there was one just inches from the door handle at Microgram’s back door where I enter.
He’s a juvenile… about 2 1/2 inches long… very green. He’s missing most of his right antennae, but has all 4 legs and both arms. No sign of wings yet… probably a couple of molts to go. The only problem at the moment is I am cricketless and it’s raining outside. He keeps looking at me wondering when I’ll be serving snacks. Oh, well. Things are looking up in our new digs. I have two desk stations back-to-back separated by a 4 foot high divider. The divider is easy to climb, and Joe likes sitting at the top of it and looking around. He also has been studying his reflection in the chrome frame on which he is now perched. Now, at least, I’m not the only one here in the quiet morning hours.
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(Ready to be) home from journalism camp
The I News Network journalism camp, or “institute” rather (as I was so emphatically reminded when I told one of the students she didn’t need to go out and buy cotton balls; she should suck it up because she’s at “camp”), has been great, but I’m not sure what I’m more excited about: a bed that isn’t made of plastic, food not served on a tray or a towel that’s full and fluffy and covers more than my unmentionables.