For some reason, Justin decided at work today to call me "Ribs." Out of nowhere. We were just talking shop, and he decides he wants to
give me a nickname, and that nickname is "Ribs."
Before I know it, everyone else is chiming in on how they think it's a great name, and every fucking person in the room starts
calling me "Ribs."
In desperation (and in mortal fear of being forever stuck with the nickname "Ribs"), I declare that everyone else should also
have nicknames. This idea takes hold (thankfully), and for a few more minutes everyone else in the room gets a nickname for the day.
I ended up making namecards for everyone. And we all referred to one another by these names for the remainder of the day.
This is my workplace. These are my coworkers. We are all professionals.
RIP
The one down note from today - one of Justin's drives just up and checked out. He spent all of today trying to recover data, with no success.
The kicker was, not five minutes prior to this happening, we were having an informal group discussion on what steps we would be taking
to set up an automated backup process for ourselves. Currently - we have no way to back up anything. We're off the company's internal
network (the speed is WAAAY too slow), and so we're running on a DSL line. Separated from the company's network, our computers don't
get the luxury of nightly backups.
We've been all backing up our own stuff, when we decide to.
Luckily, Justin does have some backups from late March/April. Better than nothing, but he's going to end up having to do a crapload of
work tomorrow basically setting up his machine from scratch again (to say nothing of how long it's going to take to sift through
all his old backups).
:(
Congratulations are in order
Congratulations to rypunked, for getting the apartment she was after!
Congratulations to jverbal, for becoming a homeowner!
Congratulations to shuteye, for getting a new job and being able to leave his old workplace!
Congratulations to schubee, for being a rock star and landing a job at Rockstar!
Kegger At Rypunked's
Who Wants These?
I got handed these at work, free. While I am a big fan of video games, I'm choosing not to play them (in the hopes that I might
somehow find better ways to spend my time).
Are you interested? Drop me a line if you want them, and I'll mail to you. I'm serious about this.
On the Way Home
Preface
After leaving the Empty Bottle yesterday, Dave, Justin and I walked home talking about tattoos (inspired, in no small part, by
Jennifer's tattoos).
A few days back, I had purchased a book of poems by
Ted Kooser. I mentioned this, and how I thought the poem
appropriate... but since I just got the book, the poem was still new in my mind, and I couldn't cite any lines.
What once was meant to be a statement —
a dripping dagger held in the fist
of a shuddering heart — is now just a bruise
on a bony old shoulder, the spot
where vanity once punched him hard
and the ache lingered on. He looks like
someone you had to reckon with,
strong as a stallion, fast and ornery,
but on this chilly morning, as he walks
between the tables at a yard sale
with the sleeves of his tight black T-shirt
rolled up to show us who he was,
he is only another old man, picking up
broken tools and putting them back,
his heart gone soft and blue with stories.
