ho-hum

Well, well, well.

It appears that it's been several days since my last post. It's one of those things where the more you do it, the more you want to, and the longer it is between posts, the easier it is to not post at all.

Kinda like exercise, that way.

We will now have a poem.
Several years ago the Washington Post had a contest; submit instructions for anything, written in the style of a famous person. The winning entry:

The Hokey Pokey (as written by W. Shakespeare).

O proud left foot, that ventures quick within
Then soon upon a backward journey lithe.
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.
Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Poke,
mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To spin! A wilde release from Heavens yoke.
Blessed dervish! Surely canst go, girl.
The Hoke, the poke -- banish now thy doubt
Verily, I say, 'tis what it's all about.

by William Shakespeare (Jeff Brechlin, Potomac Falls)

Wasn't that lovely? I thought you might enjoy it. I certainly did.

What was I doing during my absence, you ask? (I heard you muttering it under your breath, no point in denying it!) Not a heck of a lot, I answer. I have been working, having lovely chats with my boss, stewing about how incompetent my staff can be (which indicates to me how much I need to develop as a supervisor in order to help them excel), and eating tomatoes.

I stopped yesterday on my way home from the staff meeting at a roadside stand. This is one of those seasonal garden centres where they have plants in the spring, and veggies in the last summer and fall. I bought field tomatoes for $0.99 a pound. A bargain of a price, and they were, I must confess, the BEST tomatoes I have eaten since I left Ontario. They were sweet, juicy, and large. They were the kind of tomato that it only takes two slices of to make a sandwich. The kind of tomato that you could slice up on a plate with a little bit of salt and pepper, and it would be a MEAL. They were delicious. I regret now that I only purchased 3. I thought they were going to be the same old blase tomatoes that I always get out here.

I am now torn--I want the tomatoes to go on forever. I NEED more tomatoes--my tastebuds are screaming for the tangy delicious sweetness of vine-ripened fruit. And yet I am afraid to purchase more tomatoes; because now, I have been spoiled. I previously had no expectations of my fruit. Now I want it to be wonderful. And I know full-well that it will not be. I will be served with the kind of tomatoes that are fit only for a store-bought salad. The kind of tomato that you slice and put on the plate as a decorative garnish--but the type of garnish that shouldn't be eaten--kind of like a plastic flower or a frilly toothpick. How can any fruit live up to these exacting demands? It is far too much pressure for a fruit. Particularly a tomato, because everyone knows what happens when you exert too much pressure on a tomato...Juice. Juice happens.

If I haven't posted since, the ball tournament on Sunday was a blast. I got a bit sunburned, which has now turned to the best tan I've had in years. Skin cancer here I come! The aches and pains were minimal--compared to what I experienced after my trip to the gym with Lynn, it was a cake walk*. I only gimped around at work a little bit on Tuesday, and was able to move, climb in and out of the car under my own steam quite easily, and even move several boxes of flooring in an attempt to be viewed as 'helpful-Sarah'.

* Do you remember the Cake Walk? We always had one at Fun Night in elementary school. No matter what school you went to, at the May Fun Night there was a cake walk. In one classroom the desks had been moved aside. Numbers were taped down on the floor in a circle, and people had to walk around the room like a big game of musical chairs. When the music stopped, a number was drawn, and if you were standing on that number, you won a cake. The kids' mothers must have baked dozens of cakes to be able to play this game for 3 hours straight. What a great game. Free cake!!!

Why is it that I always start posting here when it's already time for bed and I then go on for ages and my posts are so incredibly long? I am always amazed at the brevity and succinctness of Christine's posts. It makes me feel long-winded and self-important to go back and read my own posts. But tonight I think I determined the reasoning behind my lengthy posts. (Who needs a reason, you may very well be asking? I do. That's who.)

Paige and Christine both have people who live in their homes. They get to talk about their day when they come home. Sometimes I'm sure they would prefer not to; however, I digress. I live alone. Therefore, when I come home, I have no one to tell aobut my day. I make my dinner, I watch TV, I do my laundry...all without a word. Sometimes I tell myself I've done something particularly well, or made a rather dumb-ass move; however, I usually have no other companion than the television. So this is my conversation. You are my uwitting companions. (that's not the same thing at all as being witless--I'd never say that about you! [not even YOU--and you know you sometimes deserve it!]) So that's my theory. It bears no relevance to the Real World, but I find it interesting in an observational psychology sorta-way.

How do you feel about Green Tea? I'm a recent addict. I love the stuff. I enjoy the nice light taste, I enjoy the lack of caffeine. I enjoy the mildly-stimulating effect of the stuff. I don't know; however, if I buy into the whole 'aid to weight loss' thing. They say that if you drink more than 3 cups a day it speeds up your metabolism and helps you burn calories faster. I have seen no evidence of this, but I really haven't been paying that close attention either. I endeavour to pay closer attention over the next few weeks, and I will report back to the curious hoardes.

Operation 'Get-Sarah-a-Store' is now under way. Any and all suggestions are welcome. If you have insight as to how a very capable and clever girl can make it in a Man's-man's World--please feel free to forward them. You can post them here, or you can email them to me at canadian_sadie@yahoo.com. You will receive no credit for your ideas, nor will there be financial compensation or remuneration of any kind. I will dance the dance of joy if the plan comes to fruition, and I may even video-tape it and mail it to you, but I make no promises. So send in your ideas! Operators are standing by to take your emails. Write now, and write often.**
**this offer is void where prohibited.