“I was just a fly on the wall in that meeting; it was too far over my head,” said Ryan. He plays softball with me on the company team, so I know that he has a longtime girlfriend. Between that and the fact that we work together, I try to ignore the fact that he’s a hottie.
“You should work harder to be a frog,” I said. Before the words came out of my mouth, I meant that he should try to participate in the meeting. After I said them, though, I realized that I was telling him to eat the flies. Uh, could that be taken as a sexual innuendo?
Damn it. I haven’t been sent to HR yet. All it would take is a little slip of the tongue—frog-eating-fly pun intended.
Picking up on the frog reference, another co-worker flew in with, “If he’s a frog, then you should kiss him and make him a prince.”
Ryan blushed. And since he has fair skin, his cheeks were a bright red. And damn it, from the sudden heat in my fair cheeks, I’m sure that I looked similarly sunburnt.
I don’t have much of poker face.
He replied, “Don’t let HR hear you saying that!”
Whew. He was talking to our coworker, not me.
We laughed it off and went our separate ways.
Speaking of things for which I am thankful…
Thanksgiving was delightful! I enjoyed a nice, lazy run in the morning (5 miles). Then I took my time eating breakfast and getting ready.
I’ve discovered the TV show, “Lost Girl.” It’s a lot like Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files (books), to the extent that I wouldn’t be surprised if Jim were writing for the show. Except that the Lost Girl has a lot more sex than Dresden. I’m talking, every episode she has sex, and she switches partners an average of every episode. I say, “average” because sometimes she stays with the same guy for 2 or more shows. But then she has a three-some to make up for it.
I watch the show for the plot.
Ya, like some people read Playboy for the articles.
Anywho, Jack and I attended a Thanksgiving feast at Elizabeth and Daniel’s house. They are the best of friends. They had taken pains to provide gluten free side dishes for me: steamed green beans, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, and a crustless mini-lemon meringue pie. Now that’s friendship!
I dropped Jack off at home and went to another friend’s feast. I nibbled on salad and a small piece of turkey, which was perfect after my huge lunch. I had told my hostess that I wouldn’t be eating at all, so I made up for it by being helpful: serving pie, clearing the plates, etc. I’ve discovered that the more helpful you are, the more likely you’ll be invited back. And just to be sure, I had brought a couple of bottles of wine with me.
Hey, I’m like NASA: I believe in redundant systems. If one doesn’t work, the other will.
And as an extra back up, I brought the charm. Who can resist me when I’m being cute?
Reality check: I’m still single.
Damn it. Good thing I brought wine!
Before and after dinner we played the game, “Code Name.” One person is the spymaster and he has a team of spies. He can’t tell us who else is a spy directly, but instead gives us a code word which will lead us to one or more spy. That is, he/she says a word and number like, “Peter, 3.” There are cards with words on them, and the spies (team members) look at the random nouns and pick out 3 that connect to Peter somehow. When I said that clue, I meant for them to pick out Pan, Kid, and Theater. I had to be careful that they didn’t pick out something unintentional, like “Peanut Butter” or “Penis.”
Ok, neither of those was on the board, but unintended connections can and do happen.
We took turns being spymaster. I was happy to be part of the team guessing what the clues meant, but I warned them that they didn’t want me as spymaster giving the clues. My brain makes obscure references. For example, when the spymaster said the word, “Monster,” I pointed to the “Rabbit” card. Everyone was confused, until I referenced Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail.
“Bring the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch!” I quoted.
The peeps who hadn’t seen the movie were still confused. Ya either get it or you don’t. Like I said, my mind has obscure references.
This became even more apparent when I became spymaster and used the clue, “Q.” My team looked for Star Trek nouns: Bridge, Space, etc. which connected to the character of Que, who was an omniscient being who liked to make trouble. Like the Norse god Loki. There weren’t any cards like the ones that they were search for. When I said, “Q,” I meant the scientist who made gadgets for Maxwell Smart in the old television show, which was a parody of James Bond. I was hoping they’d choose “lab,” “scientist,” and “research.”
Ya, no one got that one. I may be smart, but that doesn’t mean that you want me to hand out clues! Plus, I was so busy thinking of connections that I neglected to notice that “Peter” led to spies for the other team. Oops.
I’m super glad that I brought wine!
Thanksgiving Part II
My darling daughter Sally and her girlfriend of two years (!!), Penny, visited from Austin the next day. I am ALWAYS glad to see my mini-me! This year, her blue-purple hair matches our Christmas tree. How many proud mamas can say that?
Um, how many proud mamas want to?
At any rate, we watched Hot Fuzz and Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle, followed by How I Met Your Mother Thanksgiving episodes. We decorate the tree and hung stockings on the mantle. I used to wait for December 1 before decorating, but since Sally drove back to Austin the next day (today, Saturday), I took advantage of her presence. It feels more like the holidays with her here. She and Penny decorated my study with silver mesh fabric, too. The place feels absolutely ready for Christmas now!
When we were making plans for her to come up, she said, “I have three Thanksgiving dinners on Saturday.”
I answered, “I’ll make homemade pizza.”
She said, “Mom, I love you!”
While here, we told Penny funny stories: why I don’t have a tattoo came up, as did the Greek tale of Oedipus Rex. The last was mentioned on How I Met Your Mother, so I paused the show (at Sally’s behest) to tell the story. That led, naturally, to one of Sally’s own.
“Mom and I were about to watch this show,” she said, referencing HIMYM, “And Mom said, He’s going to talk about how he met YOUR mom! Not MY mom, but YO mama! So I looked at her,” Sally nodded at me for emphasis, “and said, He’s going to tell me how he met YOU?!” She LAUGHED! “I had to remind her that I’m her daughter, and she’s my mom!”
True story. I have so much fun with Sally Ann that she feels more like a friend than family. I love you, Baby Girl!
Now, go out there and be a frog, not a fly!
Uh, still not the best metaphor. I mean, go get ‘em!