I feel the need to apologize. I started writing this blog for you, my adoring fans, and it has been a failure. You’ve all been very nice, saying how great it is but I know the real truth so let’s not sugarcoat it, this blog has been a disaster so far. The writing has been unfunny and dull, almost as sleep inducing as one of Bruce’s emails. The good thing is that there really isn’t that much else out there for you to read. I mean are you going to read Josh’s scintillating views on ethanol or Andrew and Leigh’s gripping account of their search for burrowing owls? How about taking part in the edge of your seat excitement that is the wonderful world of knitting brought to you by our friend Rachel? Did you know that while finishing her recent project Rachel’s washed-and-blocked gauge was 6 stitches per inch rather than the 5.5 stitches per inch called for in the pattern? She deviated a half stitch per inch from the pattern!?!?!? What!?!?! That’s almost as exciting as an Angry Salad concert. (Ed. Note- I tried to find Aaron’s blog but apparently it doesn’t exist anymore. I guess my clicking the link doubled the readership from 1 to 2 and crashed the servers. Not to worry, I’m sure copies have been made and it is stored in the Library of Congress.)
The bottom line is if these offerings don’t make you long for the days when humans communicated via smoke signals I don’t know what will. So I have decided to change things up a bit by giving you an all access look into my life through this live blog of my day. Enjoy:
3:00am- Just woke up in a cold sweat with my heart pounding. I was having the weirdest dream. I was in high school and was all excited to go on a date and when I went to pick her up, the door opened and I saw the face in the picture on the right. (Interesting name for a girl but that picture looks like it's from the 60s so I guess they were naming the kids weird things back then.)
3:43am- Still awake, heart still pounding. Wondering if the image will disappear if I gouge my eyes out with the nail clipper.
4:17am- Finally getting sleepy, picturing an email from Bruce……zzzzz…zzzzz….zzzzz
7:15am- Awakened by my girlfriend Cynthia, that’s Dr. Cynthia MD MPH to you, whispering into my ear that she has to go to work. Is there a better way to start your day than hearing your girlfriend say “Honey, I have to go to the hospital to work because I’m a doctor”? I mean imagine if instead of that your spouse said, “Honey I have to go to my job as a librarian”. Would you just shoot yourself in bed or would you at least get up and do it in the basement?
8:00am- I’m sure those of you who work at 110 Elm have taken note of the homeless guy who has set up shop on the corner of Elm and Richmond streets. To be honest, I drive by most days and don’t really notice him but this morning something caught my eye. He was sitting in his usual spot and there was a strange looking dude talking to him. But this guy wasn’t just talking, he was almost screaming, his arms flailing and every so often he would interrupt his diatribe and do 10 squat thrusts. I was intrigued so I pulled over and as I did I realized the wildly gesticulating maniac wasn’t another homeless guy, it was Aaron. I walked over to figure out what was going on:
Aaron- Dude, this is the sweetest set up ever. You’ve got this little wall to sit on, plenty of side walk to sleep on and best of all this tiny little patch of dirt.
Homeless guy- What the hell am I going to do with a patch of dirt?
Aaron- Well listen, you went to Cornell, right?
Homeless guy- Yup, voted most likely to succeed in the Class of 2000 and they were right.
Aaron- Well then you should know all about farming which means you can definitely turn this dirt into a CSA. You could grow all kinds of vegetables and I’ll talk about it so much at work everyone will get involved just to get me to shut up. Won’t that be awesome? Then I’ll get everyone at work to start taking the bus and to stop taking part in their partisan bickering and vote for Unity08 and then the world will be full of rainbows and sunflowers and you’ll be living in a mansion. How does that sound?
Me- Aaron, what are you doing?
Aaron- What do you mean? I’m rocking this guy’s world. I only wish Ed Tufte was here.
Me- What the hell happened to you? You look like crap.
Aaron- Oh, I decided that taking the bus is the easy way out so I’ve started walking to work. I go to sleep at 9pm wake up at 10:30pm, 90 minutes of sleep is awesome, and then head out. It’s amazing.
Me- How long does that take?
Aaron- Well it takes awhile and stopping every ten steps to do twenty pushups makes it even longer but I freaking love it. I mean I’m making a difference, I’m changing the equation.
Me- Yeah, ok, well let’s get to work, say goodbye to your new friend over there.
Aaron- Later dude, get going on that CSA, twitter it so I can follow along. We’ll go to Local 121 for lunch soon.
Homeless guy- Go Big Red.
8:15am- Arrive at 110 Elm, walking across second floor to get to my office. I like getting here before anyone else so as I walk through the cubicles I don’t have to stop and talk to any of the serfs who toil away day after day out here. I mean could you imagine working in one of these things? Could you imagine being married to someone who works in one…”Morning Cor.” Yikes, it’s Ellen. Jeez can I ever get away from this woman? (For those of you who don’t know I used to be married to her, for proof, here’s some of video from our honeymoon, doesn’t Ellen look and sound great?)
“Hey Ellen, how’s Froggy?” I don’t know if she answered or not. Remember in Peanuts when the adults talked? That’s what I hear when Ellen talks to me. I stood there for a minute nodding and smiling and then walked away. That was the shrewdest roster move I ever made.
8:45- Wow, if I still worked in Class Campaigns I’d already be done for the day. Did I ever show you the video I made about my CC experience? Check it out, it’s pretty funny.
Does't Rachel look funny sitting on top of the copier?
8:50am- I really should go say hi to Bruce, he gets a little anxious if I don’t visit him every once in awhile. When I left last night he was on a conference call, I wonder how that went. As I get to his office I see him in his chair, fast asleep.
Me- Bruce, wake up.
Waldo- What the…?
Me- Did you sleep here last night?
Waldo – Golly, I don’t know what the heck happened. My conference call started, I began talking and the next thing I know you woke me up.
Me- Ummm, I think you put yourself to sleep. Shocker. Well you better get up, you have to get your PowerPoint ready for the fundraisers meeting this afternoon. Oh, speaking of that, I scheduled a voluntary root canal for later today so I won’t be there. Talk to you later.
10:00am- Plowing through my to-do list, Aaron’s only been in 47 times so far, glad to see my talk with him about coming in here less often has sunk in.
10:10am- Not bad, Aaron’s only been in 64 times today.
10:20am- Email from a volunteer asking what happens if he calls someone for a solicitation and he realizes the person has Alzheimer’s. I tell him I’ll check with our expert on soliciting alums/parents with Alzheimer’s and other types of dementia.
10:21am- Call Rachel.
10:56am- Great. Email from CJ telling me my weekly fax from Matt, Rachel’s husband, is downstairs. Reading the weekly fax from Matt is probably the lowlight of my week. It all started a few months ago when Matt left me a voicemail at 1:00am in which he said:
“Cory you have got to help me out. I can’t take another night with her. All she does is sit there frogging and if I have to listen to her read one more chapter of Harry Potter to me I am going to use the Avada Kedavra spell on myself. I am begging you to be friends with her and take her off my hands a few nights a week. I got Andrew and Leigh to do it for awhile and they loved it so much they went into hiding in South America for six months before resurfacing in California. Then Bob did it but he moved to an Indian reservation in NY. Josh was pretty good for a few months after that but then he moved to Rochester. Who moves to Rochester? I have also used Eric Russell, Ali Kauffman, David Greene, Bob Zimmer, Susan Detri-Souve and I even asked Ralph Rosenberg. He didn’t know anyone named Rachel. You’re my only hope.”
Ever since that fateful day, Matt has been faxing me a grid of the primetime television shows for the week. He underlines the times when he’d like me to invite Rachel over to watch TV at my place. He circles the times when he really, really needs me to invite Rachel over to watch TV at my place. I think those are the nights when he has Debbie over to his place. Needless to say,the grid is always covered in circles. But, because I’m a nice guy and because Matt needs a break from the drudgery that is his home life, I do him a favor when I can.
11:05- Wonderful, Bruce just walked in and for some reason he has a huge welt on his head.
Me- What the hell happened?
Waldo- I don’t know. I was sitting at my desk at about 10:30, practicing my presentation for the meeting and the next thing I knew I was laying on the floor, my head was throbbing and it was 11:00.
Me- zzzzzz…..zzzzzzzzz
11:25- Me- What the…? Bruce, wake up. You put us both to sleep just from talking about your presentation.
Waldo- Really? How did that….?
Me- Shhhh, just stop talking and leave, I’ve got too much work I can’t take another nap. Oh wait, one piece of advice. If you want to make sure people don’t fall asleep you should get a screen saver with a floating square on it. Set your laptop so that the screensaver comes up after being idle for 10 seconds. I guarantee everyone at the meeting will be wide awake.
11:45am- Run home for lunch. As I approach my door the upstairs neighbor comes by.
Me- Hey, what happened to you the other night?
Neighbor- What?
Me- I told you that I had a “friend” from work over for the 5th time this week and I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted you to start a fire while we were watching The Office and burn down the apartment building so I could get rid of her. I told you I had the insurance all set. You’re killing me.
Neighbor- Oh yeah, sorry about that. Someone named Bruce called my apartment while I was eating dinner, it was a wrong number and I only talked for him for like 30 seconds but the next thing I knew it was 3am. Hey, I like that new welcome mat on the floor there.
Me- That “friend” I told you about knitted me a sweater but, as you can see, no one would ever wear that so I thought I’d put it to good use. I think it’s perfect; it really soaks up the mud.
12;30pm- Stop by Starbucks for a quick iced tea. When I worked in CC I would usually sit here from 9:30-4:30 or so. Man those were the days. As I stand at the counter waiting for my drink I notice a stack of CDs. Not CD cases, just the CDs. I ask the barista what they are and she says they just got a huge shipment of old CDs from a record company; apparently they couldn’t sell any of them. Starbucks has decided to use them as coasters. They can also be used to prop up the leg on a table if it gets wobbly. She said she didn’t know the name of the group but she thinks one of the songs is a cover of that classic hit 99 Luftballoons. Who the hell would do a cover of that?
12:35- Still laughing with the barista about the 99 Luft Balloons.
12:45- At dentist for voluntary root canal, you have no idea how much I am looking forward to this. Aaron walks in and says that he wants a root canal too, thinks it will be an awesome experience that can’t be missed.
2:00- Back at work after the most painful hour of my life but still less painful than the fundraisers meeting.
2:15- Knock on my door. Great, its one of the CC officers. I don’t know who any of them are but I humor them by allowing them to talk to me. Although, they don’t know that most of the time when they think I am paying attention to them I am actually talking to someone on my cool phone headset.
CCO- Do you know who worked with the 10th Reunion the last few years?
Me- No, I don’t remember his name. 
CCO- Well I couldn’t really find much info and it looks like they didn’t raise a ton of money. I found this little graph showing the results of the last few years. How do you raise negative dollars in a reunion?
Me- I don’t know. I don’t remember the guy who did the 10th but I do remember that we traded him to the University of Rochester for a stapler and 50 of those dumb picture cubes.
CCO- Why would you want cubes with pictures of Rochester?
Me- Look, that’s all they would give us. I asked for some post it notes and they said take it or leave it and I couldn’t pass up the chance to get rid of him. Now can you please leave? I don’t work in Class Campaigns so I have things to do.
5:00pm- Wow, the rest of the day flew by. Kris Davitt, my office neighbor and the new Assistant to the VP came in a few times, which was annoying. I started talking about football and other guy stuff, that got her to leave. Well I still have a few more hours of work but I think that’s enough for today. Make sure to check back again soon for more updates. Thanks for reading.
Friday, October 19, 2007
A day in the life
Friday, October 12, 2007
Kaiser Soze, reveal yourself!
Okay, so I've recently learned that I have a blog that I have not been writing. I have done some fishing for clues around the office but with no success. I am like that character in the movie "Clueless." That is, I am without a clue as to the mastermind's identity. Obviously, it's not Bruce. This took a lot of thought and coordination, two things that he has never had a handle on.
It cannot be my idol, Bob, because I love him too much and he knows that this would kill my spirit beyond repair. Aaron, it's not you. I'd fire you, and you know it. Josh is stupid becuz he went to a stupid cow college, though he did trick me before and enjoys the prank that keeps on giving. He's still a suspect. I can't think of anybody else. Oh, mastermind of the underworld, reveal thyself! I am a broken, beaten, shadow of a man. You've won.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
My Man Bob
If asked (as I no doubt will be, eventually), I’d have to say there have been two keys to my professional success: limited competition (Bruce), and a great man we’ll call Bob W. The former is self-explanatory and just good luck on my part. The latter, however, is a strategy for which I take direct credit. I've touched on it before, but I think it bears repeating and expanding upon. It works on what I like to call the Slipstream Principle, after the way birds flying in formation coast on the updrafts created by the flapping wings of the birds in front of them. When I entered my career in advancement, I identified a guy with talent, charisma, ambition, and good looks, and then I just started tailing him. Any time he is promoted, I make sure I am well positioned to step right into his shoes. Then I just ride the currents of his hard work and success. 
I may have to rethink this strategy now that he’s gone off to become head counselor at some Adirondack summer camp, but that aside, this has served me very well for several years now -- with one major exception that has become clear recently. When I took over Bob’s old job this summer, I was thinking it was going to be pretty sweet, because not only would I be coasting along on Bob’s success for at least two years, but I’d be inheriting Bob’s protégé, Aaron. It was well known in the office that Aaron was totally devoted to Bob: I heard stories of Aaron bringing Bob coffee, waxing his car, clipping his toenails, etc. Thinking I’d never have to pick up my own dry cleaning again, I prepared myself to be on the receiving end of hero worship for the first time.
Well, can I just say that did not pan out at all. My first week in the job the guy walks into my office like he owns the place, does his push-ups and crunches, writes on my white board, rearranges my tchotchkes. He takes countless days off leaving nothing but an out-of-office email telling people to call me instead, like I’m HIS assistant. And I think he’s still working for Bob. I think they get on the phone every afternoon and talk about me. Not that I can blame Aaron, exactly; the Bob W. addiction is a tough one to break. I’m battling it myself. But still, what does a guy have to do for a little loyalty around here?
Friday, October 5, 2007
No Love for The Office's Toby?!
Last night's The Office served a great injustice to my man Toby. As the show's most eligible bachelor, I think that it is only right that he be with the most eligible bachelorette, Pam. I feel a special kinship with Toby. Let me break it down:
We are both:
1. Good looking (that should go without saying, but I like to read good press)
2. Fathers
3. Athletic (he won a 5k, I can beat everybody in my squash team photo)
4. Laid back, yet very funny
5. We should each star in our own TV show
6. We're beloved by our colleagues
Obviously, a guy like this should get Pam or whoever else he's locked in on. This show is getting ridiculous. I wish Jack Bauer would have a sit down with the show's writers and beat some sense into them. I almost think that Bruce writes for the show. But there are funny moments, so I know this can't be true.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
CAPs retreat
These retreats are always a bit lame. Not that we don't cover good material, or that folks don't do a nice job setting things up...it's just that I never hit my stride with comments and suggestions. I always come across a bit tired and sleepy. When the reality is much different. I've got a lot of good ideas that just never come out right, or are appreciated. And then you have Bruce, just droning on and on about God knows what. It was no different yesterday. Course he did leave mid-way through and I got the chance to shine.
Then this morning when the pictures came out - Diane R. had snapped a few pics - the comedians started to chime in. What do these people do all day? I add a few witty lines here and there, but its just to get them off my back.
My tea was really good today. The team down at Starbucks is killing it.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
My Best Enemy
I'm getting pretty excited about the upcoming squash season. We got the team photo taken last week -- I think we all look pretty pumped.
As I was gearing up to start writing some of my beloved weekly motivational emails to the team, I realized that maybe I hadn't been bringing my A game to the blog so far. Sure, I've been dashing off some clever thoughts here and there, giving the world a much-desired window into my soul, but when I compare the quality of the stuff here to my deep, content-rich squash emails, I'm forced to admit I'm shortchanging my readership. For that reason, today I'll be treating you to a bit of my patented long form. Get yourself a cup of Starbucks premium Joya del Dia Blend coffee (wouldn't touch the stuff myself - my body is a temple and all that), settle in, and prepare to be enlightened by clicking the link below for the extended post.
Anyone who reads this blog has noticed that I seriously can't stand my colleague Bruce (and I use "colleague" loosely here, because it implies that we are at some comparable level in the office, which frankly is a bit insulting). The guy is so incompetent that he injures himself to the point of needing stitches just trying to get into the building in the morning. He rents a car to drive the two blocks from the office to our staff meetings at Ship Street. Plus he looks like Waldo. That seriously weirds me out. Not only do I have to see him at work, but I have to see his insufferably perky, bespectacled face on my kids' bookshelf, too. Or at least I did until I used those creepy books for kindling.
The weird thing is that no one realizes that I loathe him. Never mind that I'm completely obvious about it - I am constantly insulting him, publicly humiliating him, and viciously mocking him - but everyone seems to think it's a big joke. Last week I dozed off during this endless presentation that he was giving at a staff meeting, and at the end I loudly announced that I had done so, thinking it would make him realize how UNBEARABLY BORING HE IS, but everyone just laughed delightedly -- no one more than Bruce. At Heather's baby shower we were all guessing the name of the baby, and assuming that Bruce would suggest his own damn name, I wrote "Cory -- NOT BRUCE!!" (I mean, can you imagine a more cruel thing you could do to a baby?) Of course, it turns out that that bastard had also picked "Cory" as his suggested name, and -- surprise surprise -- everyone at the party thought it was just the funniest little rivalry. How can I make them see the depth of my hatred of this guy???
Sure, I know that I could just rise above it, knowing that I am more successful, more highly respected, and better looking, but as David Merrick, the prolific American theatrical producer, said, "It is not enough for me to win. My enemies must lose." I have adopted this as my own personal philosophy. Sure, it's nice that I got a promotion recently, and I have the office immediately adjacent to the vice president (well, except for Debra-Lee, but she hardly counts), and I am almost certainly the frontrunner for the 2007 Whelan Trophy -- clearly I am a "winner" by any definition. But I can't be happy while Bruce bounces his merry way through every day, oblivious to the fact that I taste my most recent meal every time I catch sight of him. (Ali ibn-Abi-Talib (whoever the heck that was) said, "He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare, and he who has one enemy will meet him everywhere." I'm not sure what that first part means or that it applies to me -- I'm pretty popular, but a thousand friends seems like a bit of a high estimate -- but I totally know what he means about seeing your one enemy everywhere.) Anyway, I will only be happy when I've beaten Bruce so soundly that he's high-tailing it out of here in his rental car, fearing for his life.
So I've formed a plan based on advice from three famous guys whose quotes I found on the internet. First, Saul Bellow once said, "There is only one way to defeat the enemy, and that is to write as well as one can." Clearly this is part of why I started this blog. I figure I can defeat Bruce best by wielding my magnificently persuasive command of the language (English). As my readership inevitably grows, so will the public's knowledge of the truth about Bruce, until like a rising tide it sweeps him from his seat of illusory yet ill-begotten power. Sort of like Thomas Paine, or whoever it was that wrote that pamphlet that started the American Revolution. This blog will start the Bruce Revolution.
Speaking of war, I will base the second part of my battle strategy on Ulysses S. Grant, who said, "The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on." I'm not sure what form this strategy will take for me in the long run, but so far I'm implementing it by passing gas in Bruce's office whenever he's not in there, and then booking it out of there. I'm going to his territory, striking hard, and moving on. And we all saw how things worked out for General Grant. He eventually became president, I'm pretty sure. Move over Ruth.
Finally, I look to Napolean Bonaparte, who advised, "Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." Perhaps this is where I've been going wrong all these years. By trying to point out all of Bruce's stupid characteristics to people, I'm distracting from the characteristics themselves. Now when Bruce is entering his fourth hour pontificating on the finer points of the direct mail schedule, instead of calling him on it and having everyone else in the meeting mistake my vitriol for wit (thereby lightening the mood with laughter), I'll just let him make his own bed. The truth will dawn on those present soon enough.
With the wisdom of these great men behind me, I have no doubt that I will ultimately prevail in the Battle of Bruce.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Everything Stinks
Just when things were going fine between us for once, Kris gave me a hard time again today for happening to forget to mention in a conversation we had in passing that women and men are equals. I was just trying to make small talk about whether she prefers the ham and cheese sandwich or the egg salad from the catering truck at lunch time. The next thing I know, she's giving me the frickin' business about how women are insidiously subjugated in the patriarchal, hierarchical architecture of the workplace - what the heck?? So sue me if I'm not rushing home every night to watch WNBA games. This anger isn't really about Kris at all, it's really about the Mets. I just emailed the Mets front office by the way and told them I think it's a great idea that they change the team uniform next year and actually have the players wear skirts next season. If they're going to play like a bunch of girls, they might as well dress like it.
I'm out. Peace.
Why?!?!
This morning was harsh. I usually wake and have a nice cup of coffee in my Mets mug. You can see it here on the right. When I look at it, I am usually filled with the warmth of happiness. This morning. It's bitter cold, like I'm drinking one of those damned ice coffees. How could the Mets do this to me?! Now I feel like such a loser, more so that I usually do. Sure, I got a bit lucky last year and won the office fantasy baseball league. But this year I was too afraid to put my title back on the line and have the opportunity for all of my friends to see what I fraud I am. My only consolation is that given how they played the last two weeks, I know that if they had managed to sneak into the playoffs they would have gotten swept. So at least I can say, “Well they wouldn’t have won anything anyway.” That’s what I told myself last night as I stood on top of the Sci Li.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
One of life's great moments
Every man has his share of life moments. Graduating from an Ivy League school is pretty amazing. First job. Weddings...then the birth of two beautiful kids. All incredible and etched into my mind. But those pale in comparison to today. For the past several months, I've been embracing my hipper side and enjoying the Starbucks lifestyle. Leisurely Saturday mornings gave rise to weekdays and frequent stops for a tea (haven't gone down the java route yet). After months of tweaking I finally landed on a drink any king (squash king perhaps) could enjoy. A grande (love the lingo) black tea with a little less ice (or light ice, as they call it). So now that I had my order, I waited. Well the waiting is over. Today when I walked in and approached the counter, I felt something brewing (no not the coffee). It was busy and all the folks behind the counter were cranking. I stepped up and as I fumbled with my wallet, before I could state my request...the girl (wish I knew your name) called it out for me. "Grande - black tea - light ice..." I couldn't believe it. Did she just call my order before I did? Is that where we are now...has the relationship developed to this critical point? The whole store heard my order - me, Cory D. As you might imagine I kept the cup and have it proudly displayed next to my Seinfeld portrait. Oh, happy day...oh happy Starbucks day.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Debbie...My Debbie
I knew this day would come. Rachel finally took down all those pictures of Debbie that I put in her office in the spring. I guess I can't really have expected her to appreciate beauty the way I do. I guess I'll just have to keep my Debbie shrine here on the blog.
Oh Debbie, you are so lovely! For now I love you from afar, but dare I hope that one day it will be our baby that you cradle so lovingly? My white board upon which you will write? My artsy black and white photo in which you will pose?
Sunday, September 23, 2007
The Gentleman Caller
As promised, I decided to grow out the mustache this weekend. As you can see, fate has played a cruel trick on me. Here I am, a stallion in his prime, and I am cursed with what one may call a "high forehead" and I may have a bit "too much salt and not enough pepper" in the old mustache. At least my name isn't Bruce. That would be the karmic punch in the gut. Not that I have a gut or anything, but you get the metaphor. I am lean, like a gazelle. It even says so on my JDate profile.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Wednesday Musings
I was thinking about mustaches today, as I usually do on Wednesdays. While I want one so badly, I find that I'm strangely paralyzed when it comes to making a choice. There are so many great options out there. My boss (and close friend) Neil S. has a pretty stunning one. He sports "the private eye," you know, the one made famous by Tom Selleck and Peter Sellers? While I like that one (and it would certainly send a clear signal to Neil that I appreciate his keen sense of style), I find myself gravitating toward somewhat more robust coverage underneath my nose. Do you think Neil's feelings will be hurt? Oh well. Today I think I'm leaning toward growing a "gentleman caller" stache, favored by the likes of Wilford Brimley and Mike Holmgren of the Seattle Seahawks. It's settled then - tomorrow I start growing. Look out world! I bet Neil gives me a high five when he sees that I'm joining the mustache club. Love the high five by the way.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Squash Glory
The RISRA awards tonight -- it was great to get together with the team again. The fact that everyone who participated in the league got a trophy didn't make it any less special.
My tux is at the dry cleaner, but fortunately the dress was casual. Actually, I realized that I've let all the laundry go maybe a little longer than I should have -- even my Mozart sweater was a little ripe from overwearing -- so I had to dip into my second string wardrobe. I don't think anyone noticed, and I'd actually forgotten how much I like this sweater.
Photo courtesy of Leigh Needleman and Andrew Frishman.
Friday, September 14, 2007
'86 all over again
This is great. The Mets are primed for another deep run into the playoffs. With a 6.5 game lead on the Phillies, the only thing to do now is figure out the starting rotation for the playoffs. I am secretly hoping that the Tigers can mount a comeback and knock out the Indians, Bruce's hometown team. What a choke job that would be if the Indians fell apart now. The only thing better than that would be for the Mets to sweep them in the World Series. Then I could taunt Bruce to no end about Cleveland sucking so bad.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Continuing Education
Maybe it's for the best that Rachel and Josh decided not to come, because I wouldn't have wanted that to be their introduction to the field of roadkill composting. Maybe I can get them to come to the national convention in May -- that one is always awesome. Problem is I'm not even sure they're taking it seriously when I invite them to these things.
Whenever I got bored during the elective sessions yesterday I just kept myself occupied by picturing Bruce's face on the bodies of the roadkill they were showing in the slides. Man do I hate that guy.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Tangled Web
Went to coffee with Kris this morning -- always nice. We both agreed that, as far as we can tell, the secret is still safe. Everyone in the office laughed when they heard that Bill S. thought Kris was my ex, which is good, I guess, since it means they don't suspect the truth. Thank god Ellen has been playing along. I just can't help but wonder how long it will be until people start realizing just how much Kellan looks like me....
By the way, using the same strategy with the herpes -- you know, proactively making lots of jokes about it -- has also helped deflect any suspicion of the truth.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Ivy Rankings
This is so embarassing. Josh sent me an e-mail this morning about some bogus Newsweek article that says Cornell is the "hottest Ivy". I am so glad that I have a cousin at the soon-to-be-defunct website Radar Online. I slipped him one Thomas Jefferson and he created this article to show that Cornell sucks. It feels good to be this connected. Did I mention that I coached The Office's John Krasinski's brother in college? Yeah, now that is being connected. It pays to be assistant to the head basketball coach.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Amazing Professional
This Interweb is such a great invention. Thank you, Al Gore, for your amazing discovery. I just found the Wu Tang Clan's name generator. From this day forward, my MC alias will be Amazing Professional. How true beith the wisdom of the mighty Wu Tang. This is going on my resume, right next to the part where it says "Better than Bruce."
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Close Call
The other morning, out of the corner of my eye I saw someone walk into my office, and I thought it was Bruce. Having spent most of the morning playing with my online Bruce voodoo doll, I was pretty riled up and just the sight of him nearly caused me to unleash a string of profanity. Well, it turned out it wasn't Bruce, but RDVD. If I hadn't caught myself just in time, I would have insulted the vice president and probably put on probation (or worse), and it all would have been Bruce's fault. Frickin' Bruce.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
WWBD...N?
What will Bob do next? I'm so fortunating to follow in his footsteps and pick up the crumbs of his succcess. I've followed him in, what, his last 3 jobs? I am looking forward to moving to Bedford in a few years. My only hope is that Bob is the next GM of the Mets. That would be awesome. Then a few years later, I could stop playing fantasy baseball and run a real team as his successor. Don't worry, loyal readers. I will still find time to blog like Curt Schilling. Maybe I'd sign him ghost write for me and teach me how to play Everquest. I've always wanted a cool avatar, like an egret's body with the head of a lion or something like that.
Friday, August 24, 2007
This is so cool
I can't believe I'm blogging. Now I can be just like Josh and Aaron and Rachel. Then maybe they'll start taking me more seriously. I know that Bob, the ultimate arbiter of cool, does not generally approve of blogging, so maybe I won't tell him just now. Not that he's been answering any of my calls or emails recently anyway.
On this blog I plan to discuss various topics that I expect will be of interest to a broad readership, including squash, herpes, and this annoying guy Bruce that I work with.
Next I just have to figure out this Twitter thing. I think my updates are going to generate a lot of interest.
