Hi, Nina. You may not remember me, but the front end of your fancy 1996 Acura 3.2TL became intimately acquainted with the rear end of my 2000 Oldsmobile Alero at the end of December. Perhaps you recall that meeting. I recall it was quite traumatic for you because you yelled at me to look at your car, opining all the while that it was going to cost SO MUCH to fix, even though you were…
Storm stuff I totally forgot to mention: • Last night as the wind kicked up and howled around the buildings downtown, we watched with nervousness as the giant plate-glass windows that front our newsroom bent and bowed with every gust. I just kept imagining them flying out of their frames and into the newsroom, crashing into cubicles and giving out concussions. • On the way home, blocks and blocks of Midtown were pitch black without…
I drove down to Hickory Hill to do some quality rubbernecking this morning (what? it’s citizen journalism), but my efforts were thwarted by the Memphis PD, which had all the streets around the mall blocked off. Everyone else in the city seemed to have had the same idea as I had, though, as the streets were choked with traffic — the kind of traffic that doesn’t really have any place to be in particular, but…
• I watched the Superbowl last night, probably for the first time (intentionally) ever. It was boring as shit until the last quarter, when I actually found myself emoting over football, and getting happy when Eli Manning did his little anti-sack dance and threw that awesome pass that turned the game around. Could have been the bottle of bubbly, could have been all the food, could have been the company I kept, but whatever it…
What the sign actually said: “We offer a degree in public administration.” What I read: “We offer a degree in public humiliation.”
The worst part about being a grownup has got to be the paperwork. A constant stream of it, coming from store clerks and bank tellers and the mailman, pouring in, day after day, filling every pocket, every purse, every drawer, every shelf — paper everywhere. And I’ve even opted in to paperless billing and opted out of credit-card offers and whatnot. Still, the stuff overwhelms me. I had a frantic ten minutes today when I…
Technically, no. At least that was the argument a feisty* co-worker and I put forth last night when we got the first-edition edition papers and were looking through them for errors. “Unwitting suicide bombers” — that’s the phrase that keeps popping up in all the reports. It may seem completely stupid for me to quibble with semantics in the face of such a horrific act as strapping explosives to mentally disabled women and blowing them…
Clerk at Tip-Top Liquors as I placed two cold bottles of sparkling wine on the counter: Throwing a small party? Me: Ha, yeah. Kind of.
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