My Mean Haiku

A few years ago some friends and I were writing haikus back and forth. My favorite contribution follows:

The moon is crying

The sun laughs behind its back

We all join the sun

Just a Thought

I think jog is too close job. From now on, I’m going to go for a jacation in the mornings. That sounds more enticing. 

Fast Lane

I pretty much always drive in the fast lane because I’m pretty much always driving the fastest. When I’m not driving the fastest, I move over to a slower lane. I’m confused why so many don’t understand fast lanes. Maybe we need to be more specific and call it the “only drive in this lane if no one is behind you and if you’re going faster than (not the same speed as) the cars to your right lane.”

Unfortunately, some people confuse it with the “I’m driving the speed limit so it’s fast enough for any lane lane.” Hopefully you’re not one of these people but if you are, this lane does not exist and if it did, it would be the most right lane.

And to other worthy fast laners, if a car comes up behind you in the fast lane, move over. Don’t waste your time getting angry about how fast they’re driving. Thank them as they drive by. You now have a cop blocker and therefore permission to drive a little faster if you so desire.

Next week’s lesson: The carpool lane ain’t the casual “nobody can come into my lane lane” like you’d hoped.

Corporate Yearbooks

I wish companies had yearbooks. I want to go around and get people that I've been in meetings with but don't know very well to write me little messages about how nice it was to have meetings with me. It would create a good excuse to get the cutest guy in the company to sign my book so I can pretend like we were friends. I'd even join the Social Outreach group and the Emergency Team simply to have my picture on more pages. Also, superlatives would be awesome:

• Most likely to take credit for other people's work
• Cutest secret couple
• Most likely to get fired
• Company flirt
• Most politically incorrect executive
• Most Facebook posts during work hours
• Most likely to cry
• Stinkiest
• Messiest desk (I'm on my way to win this one)
• Least likely to show up to work (FACT: I haven't seen one of my coworkers in months)

There really are so many possibilities. 

San Funcisco

I recently took a business trip to one of my favorite cities and extended the trip through the weekend to visit some of my favorite friends.

One of the highlights from the weekend was a trip to House of Airs. It’s a place that’s full of trampolines and children. My friend and I apparently didn’t fit the mold. When we went to purchase our entrance, the guy seemed a little surprised by the fact that we weren’t there for a party and had no kids. We explained that we were simply two adults that like to jump really high. The other adults brought children and sat around and talked. While they talked to their adult friends, my adult friend and I pelted their children with balls in a high-bouncing game of dodge ball. Our team won.

I love my friends, I love San Francisco, and I love that House of Airs allows adults to pelt children with balls. It was fun. 

Judge Books by their Covers

I believe in judging books by their covers. That’s why I own three guitars and a ukulele. People come to my house and instantly think I’m way cooler than I am. It’s fantastic. I can then make them think I’m way more humble than I am when I shyly refuse to play for them. Win, win. Please continue to judge on appearances. It helps posers like me.

I Beet Cancer

For a few hours this week I was certain I had cancer. I was contemplating how I would react when the doctor read me the results. I kept trying to come up with excuses at work after the first scare. Maybe there was something in the toilet that caused the coloring. It wasn’t until I went home and the same thing happened that I ran out of excuses. I needed to call the doctor. My loved one’s faces flashed before my eyes as I visualized breaking the news to them. I even thought of a video that I would make to surprise them with at my passing.

On the way to my soccer game, I again was trying to figure out if there was any other possible reason why this was happening to me—I didn’t drink any punch, I had only eaten ravioli with alfredo sauce—nothing. And then it hit me; BEETS! I had eaten beets, and a lot of them, with my pasta. That was it! I had never eaten them before but it seemed like a cruel joke that they would like to play on a novice. I called my mom to tell her the great news. It may not sound very exciting to you but for a minute there, I beet cancer.