My week

The week started off badly. I saw The Queen of Knowledge barreling down the hall toward me and slammed my shoulder against the wall to avoid contact. Dramatically. The entire left side of my body is now brown and green and yellow. (I don't get pretty black-and-blue bruises.) Why was this violent reaction necessary? I have no clue. Perhaps because I hadn't actually used my vocal chords in three days and wasn't yet ready to speak? No clue. Freak.

How to be popular with your co-workers:
1. Stumble in at 8:30
2. Wander toward the kitchen to see if anybody else has made coffee yet
3. Hide in the ONE bathroom for five minutes waiting for someone else to make the coffee and forcing everyone else to "hold" it
4. Meander toward your desk as the meeting starts
5. Deliver your line, "Ohhhhhhh, wait. Is there coffee? Oh good! We can't start the meeting until I have coffee."

My Glambert-adoring colleagues now have a plant named Adam. Apparently when they went to see him in concert, they yanked some weed out of the ground and now nurture young "Adam." Nauseating, I know. But it's worse to hear on a daily basis:
Fan 1: How's Adam doing today?
Fan 2: Ohhhh, he looks good.
Fan 1: Of course he does. He always looks goooooood.
Fan 2: Cacccckkkkklllllle. You know that, girlfriend.
Me: B A R F.

I might get my ears pierced tomorrow. Maybe. I had them pierced when I was in high school (yes, I was the Last Girl in my class to have pierced ears). And then in college, like every other 18 year old, added a few more earrings. I permitted the extraneous holes to close up, but finally the originals got infected and closed, too. I have really short hair so I'd like to wear earrings if for no other reason than to announce myself as a huge woman rather than a large man; it's admittedly kinda tough to tell right now. So we'll see if I actually do this thing. A couple of years ago I was going to get a tattoo. Absolutely definitely positively going to get a tattoo. Then I had a couple of VERY minor outpatient procedures which should NOT have been a Big Deal at all. But they were a Big Deal. No, they were a CRAZILY RIDICULOUS HUMONGOUS DEAL. And I realized I couldn't take the pain of a tattoo. So we'll see if I get my ears pierced. Not that it's really about pain per se. It's more the fear of infection. I mean who knows if that gun is clean? And they say that piercing with a gun is the worst way in the world to get pierced. But no way am I cool enough to go to a tattoo parlor and ask for pierced ears. I'd feel like an idiot. Plus they're in the bad part of town. Although the gangs hang out at the local mall so that's not exactly the good part of town. Or maybe my skin is the kind that rejects pierced jewelry: I read about it on the web so I know it's real. That sounds like a lot of excuses. We'll see.

By the way, if you're on the phone with a client, you shouldn't say COOL. You must have alternative responses because COOL isn't the answer to every question. COOL in fact isn't a response at all. And it should never, ever be repeated 27 times on a business call no matter how young and hip you think you are. Freak. Oh wait, he just said, "Cool, man." Not sure if I'm going to count that as #28 or if I should start a tally of how many times I hear CoolMan today.

This weekend I'm going to try to make spring rolls. We used to get delicious ones at a Thai restaurant in Rochester. (It might or might not have been the same place where Gretchen saw the woman without shoes. In my imagination, it's the same place.) Anyway this place that may or may not be The Naked Feet restaurant had great fresh spring rolls with this wonderful green interesting-but-not-too-spicy dipping sauce. So I'm going to try to make them this weekend (despite the fact that I must brave the Asian market to do so!). I found instructions on how to fold them so that one end is left open; then after you make all of them, you "plate" them open-side-up in a tall bowl so that it looks like a floral (foodal?) arrangement. I'll let you know how that goes. Because I know you're dying to find out.