Thursday, January 6, 2011

Waashing.
Gone Wrong.

Well, it caught up to me. I waashed (word mashed) one too many times for it not to have some adverse affect on me.
I was at work, as usual, dressed to the nines, as usual, joking, as usual.
My coworker trotted towards me and the back area with the breathless words, "something amazing has happened." he led me up front where he pointed out, the indeed amazing matter. It was the corn plant that inhabits the office, in bloom, right out of the highest bunch of leaves. The plant is aptly named, because it's blooms actually look a small corn stalk.
we both raced back to the others, to spread the joy and amazement. I, especially, was excited about the affair, and these high-spirited emotions coursing through me incited the words, "if it really does grow corn can we eat it as an office..?!"
The others looked at me not in surprise, (these tiny phrases of fun pop out of my mouth quite often), but in hesitation, "what if it is poisonous corn, Brooke?"
"What, you mean porn?" was the immediate answer.
porn.
porn.
porn.
I was so embarrassed I can't even put it into blog-post. I could barely speak, I just sat down at my computer, and cried silent and nonexistent tears of shame.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Stop the Hunger

It was late morning, and I was on the fourth floor of the Congress Center working, as usual. As I clicked through the file room, past the printing station and onto my work area, my hands mindlessly found themselves buried deep in the pockets of my slightly over-sized, taupe cardigan. As the flesh of the fisted fingers pushed into the wool, something somewhat hard and somewhat grainy pushed back against my right hand. The same hand fished it out of the pocket and it was laid on the palm for display. This is what I found:
It is cat food. A single kibble, of holistic cat food. The only plausible and possible explanation of this seeming phenomenon is that Javier held it like a prize between his two front paws, and by standing up on his back feet alone, slipped it into my pocket, with the altruistic thought of, "Yo no quiero que mi madre a pasar hambre". (I don't want my mama to go hungry)
Now, Javier es mi gordito. He's a big boy. Thus the explanation of the single piece. He was looking out for the both of us.