Let’s All Speak Tarzanese
I’m baaaaaaaaaackkkkk! Miss me? I missed you, too. But, it all was worth it. I turned in my thesis last Thursday and it looks so pretty.
I’m already thinking of how I’ll revise it next…and I already started my second book. I left you in good hands, though. Those were some pretty neat guest posts, right? I love that I left the topics completely open and my parents wrote about milk and the color beige. Exciting times at the Turner house, let me tell you.
There was some unintentional irony with the posts: The night my dad posted for me, I stayed over at my parents’ house, and the next morning I poured a bowl of cereal only to discover Mr. “Great Enhancer” didn’t read his own blog post: there was NO MILK in the house. Seriously. I mean, I know Cheerios aren’t a dessert, but sheesh. And, the day before my friend Charlie posted her love letter, my boyfriend broke up with me. Life has a strange sense of humor. Needless to say, I’m really sad. I have absolutely no anger towards him, only deep sadness that a really good thing ended, but I know I’ll eventually be fine. And I hope he finds happiness. Lucky for you all, humor is my coping mechanism.
Here’s what I was thinking about during my thesis hiatus (thesisatus?):
I came up with a new term for when someone you’re close with suddenly disappears on you. You know, like that kid from grade school that you just stopped talking to or when you switch jobs and suddenly stop seeing the people from your own office, with whom you used to spend eight hours a day. It’s (ready?): Poof-Aloof. The superhero with this power is either called Kevin Space-Me or Neil Armslong, depending on marketability and branding.
I want the band, Spoon, to make a different music video for their song “I Turn My Camera On”. The lyrics of the chorus are “It hit me like a tom,” (like a drum) but I want them to have someone stand there while someone else pelts him with Toms.
Something I misheard at work lately (to understand this, you need to know that my boss is a middle-aged woman who would be cast as “beloved aunt” in movies. Or retired nun*):
My boss answered the phone, “Oh hi, how are you, Player?” It was only after I snorted to myself that I realized she said “Claire.” Not Player. It’s not so implausible. She is up on a lot of pop culture and has more techno-forward gadgetry than I do (iPad, KindleFire, Googly-phone). But she also has a Peggy Fleming-ish haircut and sweater sets. So, you know.
These are funny words if you really think about them:
Fulfilled: I’m so filled, I’m fulfilled.
Income: shouldn’t it be called cashin? or Moneyflow? or something? Also, why is there no such thing as “outgo?”**
I took my thesis to
Kinko’sFedEx Office to copy and bind it. I’m so sad Kinko’s is no more, because I had a brilliant idea for their spring campaign: Kinko’s de Mayo. Documents and Dos Equis! Sombreros and staples! Mariachis and manuscripts! Imagine the confetti! Also, FedEx is a gold mine for redundancy and confusion. Their packing slips list their full name as “FedEx Express” as in, Federal Express Express, and their options for delivery are: FedEx First Overnight, FedEx Priority Overnight, and FedEx Standard Overnight.
In one of my next posts, I’ll posting about a book I was asked to review, so be on the lookout for that. Be good to each other!
* Do nuns retire? Because I imagine nunning (nunness? nunocity?) is a pretty good retirement gig. Maybe that’s what I’ll do when I’m 70. 70 x 70, y’all!
**When you say them together, income and outgo, it sounds like you’re speaking Tarzanese. “Me Tarzan, you Jane. We outgo, haveget income. Be fulfilled.”