Sooo.... I'm trying to catch up on my work email. I keep trying to whittle away at it from the top, but I never seem to catch up. Today I decided to attack from the bottom of my inbox. There seems to be an email from 9/19 that needed to be answered... and I never answered it. The question now is, do I answer it a month and a half later? Or do I simply delete it? I mean, if it was crucial I'd have heard something about it by now, surely. On the other hand, if I had written the thing, wouldn't I want an answer? (Even if it's a severely late answer?) Yeah, I probably would. Yet I'm not even sure how to begin a response at this point...
Dear Sir,
Thank you for your inquiry of two months ago. The answer is "Yes." I'm sure you'll now be doing loads of business with an institution that takes two months to answer a yes or no question, so no doubt I'll be hearing from you soon.
All best,
[Someone else's name goes here]
Monday, October 27, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Calamity Travels
Some time ago, I earned the dubious distinction of being dubbed a "Calamity Jane." Not that I'm a particular lover of the old West. Nor do I get drunk and pee on myself with any kind of frequency (as having watched all three seasons of Deadwood on DVD would have me believe the real Calamity did). Basically, despite being a smart and - for the most part - capable person, I seem to find myself in the midst of trouble: long strings of ridiculous and calamitous events, sometimes lasting weeks at a time. My cousin (& good friend) coined the phrase & applied it to both of us after we spend a summer having one hi-jinx filled evening after another. The Calamity Jane is not an airhead. She is not an irresponsible person, necessarily. In fact, she is generally a well read, highly educated woman who, for whatever reason, makes a series of poor choices that land her in outrageous and ridiculous (but rarely dangerous) situations. Bridget Jones is a Calamity Jane. Mia Thermopolis is a Calamity Jane. I'm sure there are many other literary Calamity Jane's, but I can't think of them at present.
A classic Calamity Jane synopses:
- L & N have made plans to meet a large group of friends for a movie. N spends the afternoon calling each person to make sure all know the time & place to meet. Arriving a quarter of an hour early, and before any other friends, L & N decide to grab a quick drink at a pub down the street from the theater. ~~~Time passes at a shockingly quick pace~~~ L & N stumble to the movie theater (L is wearing 4 inch heels & experiencing shooting pains in her feet) to find a group of their friends standing outside, looking angry. Why do they look angry? As it turns out, they are all at the wrong theater. (Plus, even if they HAD been at the right theater, L & N are now 10 minutes late for the movie, and a little tipsy.) L & N, being a little tipsy and generally good natured people, think this is hilarious, and begin laughing uproariously. Until they realize that no one else is laughing. And then they just titter with the squeaky sounds of suppressed laughter. Hee hee. Everyone else leaves in a huff.
Anyway, my Calamity Jane tendencies are a little more repressed these days, thanks to the rigors of full time employment and married life. But sometimes I still seem to channel some calamity. Yesterday, for instance. I was at Wal Mart (not a situation in which one is primed to have much of an adventure) on a Sunday afternoon. I hate Wal Mart on Sunday afternoon, and I was in a bad mood even before I got there. Having finished my shopping, I was feeling slightly better thanks to the REALLY angry people in the ole Wally World (You think you have issues? Shit. You're totally well adjusted in comparison to the rural Texas WalMart Sunday crowd. Srsly.) relieved of my crankiness, I wanted to get home ASAP and get on with my many Sunday tasks. In an effort to speed things up a notch, I decided to do that thing on the cart. You know that thing. The one your mother always told you never to do? Where you plant one foot on the steel crossbar on the bottom, and use the other foot to propel yourself forward scooter-style? You know. So I was doing that through the Wal Mart parking lot, making excellent time as I sped toward my car waaaaay at the back of the crowded lot. When, suddenly, it appeared to me as though my cart was rising into the air. In fact, only one end of it was rising, the other end - the end containing me - was only rotating speedily toward the ground. I attempted evasive actions, but found that the momentum of the cart + the weight of my groceries combined to create a force my 125 lbs could not counteract. I had to abandon cart. So I let go. The cart went careening across the parking lot, coming to rest on its side about 15 feet away from me and, thankfully, a few inches away from someone's big, shiny, truck. The contents of the cart (some groceries and sundry items) were thrown from the cart in the middle of its trajectory and wound up in the path of oncoming traffic. I, meanwhile, skidded in the opposite direction and landed with my elbow on the pavement and my butt in the air. This is precisely why your mother always told you not to do that. A kind (and slightly creepy looking) stranger helped me get up, gather my scuffed groceries, and left me with the sage advice, "Don't do that. It hurts."
Indeed it does.
Anyway, my elbow is scraped up and my muscles are all sore, but aside from that I seem to be doing remarkable well. I inadviseably continued my errands after my fall, resulting in some odd looks as I walked through the 99 cent store with my elbow dripping blood, but that's a different story entirely.
So, tomorrow I leave for the Texas Library Association annual conference in Dallas. Should be good times. And my good friend D will be there to see that I'm reigned in tight on tha' Calamity tip.
Later gator,
Jane
A classic Calamity Jane synopses:
- L & N have made plans to meet a large group of friends for a movie. N spends the afternoon calling each person to make sure all know the time & place to meet. Arriving a quarter of an hour early, and before any other friends, L & N decide to grab a quick drink at a pub down the street from the theater. ~~~Time passes at a shockingly quick pace~~~ L & N stumble to the movie theater (L is wearing 4 inch heels & experiencing shooting pains in her feet) to find a group of their friends standing outside, looking angry. Why do they look angry? As it turns out, they are all at the wrong theater. (Plus, even if they HAD been at the right theater, L & N are now 10 minutes late for the movie, and a little tipsy.) L & N, being a little tipsy and generally good natured people, think this is hilarious, and begin laughing uproariously. Until they realize that no one else is laughing. And then they just titter with the squeaky sounds of suppressed laughter. Hee hee. Everyone else leaves in a huff.
Anyway, my Calamity Jane tendencies are a little more repressed these days, thanks to the rigors of full time employment and married life. But sometimes I still seem to channel some calamity. Yesterday, for instance. I was at Wal Mart (not a situation in which one is primed to have much of an adventure) on a Sunday afternoon. I hate Wal Mart on Sunday afternoon, and I was in a bad mood even before I got there. Having finished my shopping, I was feeling slightly better thanks to the REALLY angry people in the ole Wally World (You think you have issues? Shit. You're totally well adjusted in comparison to the rural Texas WalMart Sunday crowd. Srsly.) relieved of my crankiness, I wanted to get home ASAP and get on with my many Sunday tasks. In an effort to speed things up a notch, I decided to do that thing on the cart. You know that thing. The one your mother always told you never to do? Where you plant one foot on the steel crossbar on the bottom, and use the other foot to propel yourself forward scooter-style? You know. So I was doing that through the Wal Mart parking lot, making excellent time as I sped toward my car waaaaay at the back of the crowded lot. When, suddenly, it appeared to me as though my cart was rising into the air. In fact, only one end of it was rising, the other end - the end containing me - was only rotating speedily toward the ground. I attempted evasive actions, but found that the momentum of the cart + the weight of my groceries combined to create a force my 125 lbs could not counteract. I had to abandon cart. So I let go. The cart went careening across the parking lot, coming to rest on its side about 15 feet away from me and, thankfully, a few inches away from someone's big, shiny, truck. The contents of the cart (some groceries and sundry items) were thrown from the cart in the middle of its trajectory and wound up in the path of oncoming traffic. I, meanwhile, skidded in the opposite direction and landed with my elbow on the pavement and my butt in the air. This is precisely why your mother always told you not to do that. A kind (and slightly creepy looking) stranger helped me get up, gather my scuffed groceries, and left me with the sage advice, "Don't do that. It hurts."
Indeed it does.
Anyway, my elbow is scraped up and my muscles are all sore, but aside from that I seem to be doing remarkable well. I inadviseably continued my errands after my fall, resulting in some odd looks as I walked through the 99 cent store with my elbow dripping blood, but that's a different story entirely.
So, tomorrow I leave for the Texas Library Association annual conference in Dallas. Should be good times. And my good friend D will be there to see that I'm reigned in tight on tha' Calamity tip.
Later gator,
Jane
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