February 07, 2006

It's A Very Very

Well, with Valentine's Ghey almost upon us, I suppose we need to start making our rosemantic plans. Here are some of the themes K has dreamt up over the years to replace the retch inducing holiday (and the gifts that ensued):

1. Happy Perpsex Day (complete with a piece of perspex with a man drawn on it and subtitled "Happy man on Perspex Day")
2. Happy World Insect Day (where my room was covered in large plastic insects)
3. Happy British Beef Day (only got a card that year, tsk)
4. Happy Battery Day (which comes with, you guessed it, some battery acid wiped on a tissue).

This year, we will be spending the "occasion" with 2 medium sized children and a Sally from England. K's big smouldering brain is working hard to come up with a new theme, which I will hopefully embody the essence of in a large cake of some kind. Forbidden aspects of this day include:

1. The use of the words "love", "lurve", "heart", "romance", "cupid" or "jackhammer"
2. The sending of cards emblazoned with any images inspired by the above words or containing the above words
3. Anything heart shaped
4. All things red, including blood, and if anyone bleeds, they are to be put to death, in a fashion in keeping with the day's theme
5. Roses
6. Candles
7. Chocolates, including chocolate coated foods

If the children engage in any of the above activities, we will force them to stay up all night drinking beer and then make them go to school in the morning anyway, allowing them only a box full of Butlers liquers for lunch.

Speaking of nice things, one of my clients today sheepishly gave me a box of chocolates to say thank you for a small bit of help I gave him with some of his designs. Although embarassed, I felt (and still feel) quite touched. Not in an inappropriate way. Everybody say "Aww". Except you. YOU SHUT UP!

I work for a (super) woman, but her husband is co-director of the company. He is as equally lovely as his wife. They're both close friends of mine: in fact it is their medium sized children that I will be punishing for a few days over the Valentine's holiday. Anyway, Mr. Boss came in this morning and read some correspondence I had sent to a client without letting him edit it first. (He always reads my work, says, "This is brilliant. Excellent. I just have a few suggestions for you." Then he completely rewrites it and I type it up. Then he re-edits it thoroughly again, and I re-type it. Then he re-reads it and says, "Excellent. You really do have a way with words neuro.")

Anyway, he was reading away, and then he asked me, "Did you write this?" and when I replied, "yes" he actually yelled, "YOU'RE FIRED, BITCH!" We both almost vomited laughing. He was just in a precocious mood. It made my day.*

Now while I should be preparing the liturgical worship for my church for the next month I am drinking beer and writing on the internet. God must be so proud. I am such a disciplined daughter of his. I make that workhound Margaret Thatcher look like Pete Doherty when he's got puke on his shirt. Although I think I have earned a little break. I spent my weekend as volunteer staff at a Christian student conference in Wicklow as the pastoral care person. This was great, so close to the area I really want to work in...but so draining. There are so many hurt people around. Thankfully I had a lot of good advice to offer. GOE TEAM NEUROFIXIT!

I am afraid that there may be a portion of potato wedges that need their life's purpose fulfilled now and I just may have to be the one to assist them in doing it. Man, I am practically Mother Theresa. I can hardly contain my self-admiration! It's coming out of my pockets! It's brown.

neuro-praxis -- No tomorrow, no tomorrow

*true story, unlike much of the neurodramatics^TM

Posted by neuro-praxis on February 7, 2006 10:02 PM, in the category Bushy Hair