I got into my office after my mini-vacation to find that my plant was missing and I couldn't log into my computer. At first I figured I was fired in the most passive-aggressive way possible, but then I settled down to not working and learned that the plant guy was in the midst of replacing the plant, and my password had been inadvertently changed. It's all better now, and I kept a positive attitude by, like I said (a) not working and (b) remembering, from the host of great stuff over the weekend, these 3 Good Things:
1. My new blue shirt for Father's Day: The kids all pitched in and got me the things I wanted most, which were some new polo shirts for casual days at the office, some new workout shorts for when I need something to wear while I make excuses about why I'm not working out, and money towards a new video camera and the piano tuner. The best of all the presents was the blue polo shirt I opted to wear today -- it's the color of the ocean, when I picture the ocean in my mind, which I do when I imagine that I'm rich and living in Hawaii and can see the ocean from my deck, which I have screened in, in my Hawaiian dream house, because I don't want to get attacked by sharks. So I'm literally wearing the color of my dreams.
2. They invented Pretzel M&Ms. What's left for Western Civilization now? Sweetie and I saw the commercial for them Thursday night, and I was under orders from both of us to pick them up Friday when grocery shopping. When Mr Bunches got upset at the store though, forcing us to leave without the groceries (but with a Hot Wheel and crayons, because he didn't get too upset before that), I went home Pretzel M&M-ty handed. (Read it aloud and you'll see how clever I am.) So Sweetie went out and picked them up herself that night.
3. The first couple of short stories in the New Yorker's latest issue. The New Yorker picked their "20 Under 40" writers -- twenty great writers under forty, and even though I was age-ically ineligible for the selection, I reacted in my usual way: I got jealous and then read all the stories, ready to denounce them as obviously not as good as mine. Then I read the first couple -- all I had time to get through yesterday -- and they were excellent. Especially the one by Jonathan Safran Foer, Here We Aren't, So Quickly, a story that doesn't seem like it should work at all, but it does. You should read it yourself: everyone should. It's great. They're all great. I can't even denounce them -- as much as that pains me to admit it, since I love nothing more than a good denouncing.
143 Down, 10,861 to go: I could denounce Sweetie, for the exchange we had over today's song. The song came on my iPod when I was out walking on Saturday night after the Babies! had gone to bed; it's from the Sex and the City 2 soundtrack, which Sweetie had put on the iPod and which I didn't intend to listen to; it just came up randomly.
I liked the song, but yesterday couldn't remember the name I'd read on my iPod when I was out walking. So I asked Sweetie: "What's that one song on Sex and the City 2's soundtrack that sounds kind of like Single Ladies but isn't?"
To which Sweetie responded: "Is it 'Single Ladies?"
Sweetie can consider herself denounced: The song is "Can't Touch It" by Ricki Lee.