Friday, November 19, 2004
Arts and Crafts
Last night I became a patron of the fine arts, which was delightful in many ways. First, I got to wait for about seven hours to transfer over to the red line and go farther north in the city than I had previously believed existed. Secondly, I had the rare opportunity to stand in a ticket line full of people with "fun" hairstyles making "outrageous" statements in non-indoor voices clearly intended to be perceived by the entire room. Finally, I participated in a unique psychological experiment studying the effects of having a ritalin-deficient teenager kick the back of my chair for the entire duration of a two-and-a-half-hour play about child molestation. (Preliminary results indicate the development of a strong urge to kill.) It was actually really well done (the play, not the chair kicking, although I do have to sort of admire the kid's endurance), but all things considered I might have been happier at home with my flannel pants and The OC.
Do you like how so many of my paragraphs have strong theses followed by several enumerated supporting reasons? It's like I'm permanently in 8th grade English class.
In other news, there's big mandatory office fun to come this weekend! Saturday night is our annual office Thanksgiving potluck. I'm supposed to bring pigs in a blanket, and I have little to no idea how to make them, so that should be fun. There's also the awesome tradition of watching at least one co-worker become way too intoxicated for a work function and suddenly start sharing his or her real feelings about everyone. Aren't the holidays the best?
Last night I became a patron of the fine arts, which was delightful in many ways. First, I got to wait for about seven hours to transfer over to the red line and go farther north in the city than I had previously believed existed. Secondly, I had the rare opportunity to stand in a ticket line full of people with "fun" hairstyles making "outrageous" statements in non-indoor voices clearly intended to be perceived by the entire room. Finally, I participated in a unique psychological experiment studying the effects of having a ritalin-deficient teenager kick the back of my chair for the entire duration of a two-and-a-half-hour play about child molestation. (Preliminary results indicate the development of a strong urge to kill.) It was actually really well done (the play, not the chair kicking, although I do have to sort of admire the kid's endurance), but all things considered I might have been happier at home with my flannel pants and The OC.
Do you like how so many of my paragraphs have strong theses followed by several enumerated supporting reasons? It's like I'm permanently in 8th grade English class.
In other news, there's big mandatory office fun to come this weekend! Saturday night is our annual office Thanksgiving potluck. I'm supposed to bring pigs in a blanket, and I have little to no idea how to make them, so that should be fun. There's also the awesome tradition of watching at least one co-worker become way too intoxicated for a work function and suddenly start sharing his or her real feelings about everyone. Aren't the holidays the best?
