chicken scratches

I’m a stickler for certain social graces. I am a sucker for the romantic times where people were more reserved and the written word was a more important form of communication. I, like many have fallen into this digital cloddishness where the simplicity of technology. Email, desktop publishing, and digital video have certainly managed to make the world smaller which is fine in some certain implementations. However convenient, this has ruined my ability to do things the old fashioned way.

Writing a thank you note was excruciating. I enjoyed choosing my words and selecting the pen however, I skimped out on the card. I didn’t give myself much time to write it out so it was going to be a crap job from the get-go. Putting pen to paper, I flailed but managed to get my glyphs down. Stepping back… it looked like the handwriting of a psychopath. As a global thinker who is easily distracted, I have no control over my hand to consistently write script. Hopefully the recipients will be more touched with the fact that I wrote a thank you note and overlook that I completely failed 4th grade writing.

Back to the oversized 4-partition lined cursive paper for me…

smoke ’em if you got ’em

airport_smoking.jpg

I’m sitting in the Harrisburg International Airport (MDT) in the
secure area… and smoking a cigarette. Granted I relinquished two
lighters, but a kind soul had matches. I was tickled that they had a
smoking area in the ticketing area and I thought I was going to hang
out there until my flight was called. Whoever designed this
airport…. SUPER GENIUS

one of a kind friend… one of a kind present…

Who knew that my little gambit of contacting the OhMyPod podcast (episode 82) would have landed me in such a fantastic spot. I made it out to see Peter/MacBoyX earlier this month and by sheer force of fate, I’m here visiting him and Roseld from SuperRoboGomo. The booze was flowing, (for the most part) the conversation was lively, and I schooled Roseld on making lumpia.

If you are a listener of the OhMyPod Podcast, you already know that Roseld is a toy designer [link to that episode]. I really hate to be thrown off my game or thrown for a loop, but after spending a lovely day with Roseld, I was given a very rare object (one of a kind… prototype for a production toy). I don’t know if I could reveal his connections to, or what company produces it but I can say it is a product line that is very ubiquitous. What floored me, is that the toy is a prototype of the toy and there’s only one in the world. I must say that I was so touched that I cried, being overwhelmed by the sentiment.

Without being too precious about this, I’m adding another category to my blog, simply titled “yay”… I’m reserving it for very rare occasions like this one…

pack this!

Readers, I’m off to go see the lovely macboyX and the SuperRoboGomo
this weekend. I’m terribly excited despite the scowl on my face.
Last night I packed my clothes into a standard rolling suitcase, but
had to make extra room for my toiletries. I’m all for national
security, but a boy needs moisturizer, lip balm, and cologne… you
never know who you’re going to meet in the airport terminal nor can
one plan on being daisy fresh after a plane ride. Resigned to having
a severe haberdashery handicap, I managed to edit the wardrobe down to
simple pieces. No, happi coat, no geta sandals, no hand fan, no
sarong, and no fundoshi (wink wink)… fine.

I awoke this morning with everything sorted and was headed out the
door. The last thing to put on were my shoes and glasses. Shoes,
check. Glasses… not so much. After tearing up the apartment and
succumbing to the fear of being late for work, I ran out the door with
an old pair, which I’m not terribly fond of and doesn’t really jive
with the current state of mon coiffure.

With this major (trust me, missing accessories merit civil defense air
missiles and elite task forces to be deployed) trauma this morning,
I’m here at work, to stock up wood to keep the home-fires burning.
Hopefully this inauspicious morning isn’t a harbinger of things to
come. Ooh, maybe it’s an excuse to get new frames… retail therapy!

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