June 23rd - June 26th

Much basketball has been played recently, with varying levels of competition. The most challenging games I have participated in have been either against myself or against Greg. When I played Greg, a Midwest basket-thrasher if ever there was one, I was generally horrible, with streaks of fiery dominance. I went down 7-2 in a game to fifteen, hit six 3’s (which counted as 2’s) in a Kobe-like midgame performance, and then lost 16-14. I dare you to try and coach talent like that, Gene Hackman.

On Monday, June 23^rd, I had a one hour meeting with the director of my department – a Harvard grad and a man I could relate to. He advised that I consider this summer a three month interview; both in my questioning the company and the company’s torture of me. I told him I’d keep him on speed dial. I also told him that I am currently utilizing the parts of my brain that formed during the years when the only clothing brand I wore was Huggies. He assured me that I would get more projects. The jury is still out on that, and they might not get back in because the door is locked and I left the key in my other pants. I also have a bumper sticker that says “My other pants are a short skirt with no pockets.”

Bert visited the rolling hills of Auburn town from Monday night to Wednesday morning. She ironed my shirts, cleaned the kitchen, and didn’t drink my milk – a textbook example of a symbiotic relationship. I bought her two pieces of white meat from the Chicken Shack, and suddenly my floors were clean. That is a cause and effect chain that would leave any chap jealous.

Yesterday (June 25^th) I checked in the Red Cross hotel about an hour before work was over. A lady named Trish asked if I’d ever eaten syphilis-injected Mexican strawberries, or something like that, and then I gave her a significant portion of my blood. She commented that I had an unusually high amount of hemoglobin, which was a “good thing.” I told her I was no country bumpkin, so if she could just refrain from telling me my blood was full of rainbow-hugging goblins, we could move on. The oddest thing happened when she stuck me with the needle. I barely felt it, and I was staring intently at the ceiling of the Chrysler Tech Center, three floors above. I was studying the lighting, and I suddenly started laughing. As the blood drained out of me, I smiled unflinchingly, and giggled often. I have no idea why. I felt great all day afterward; an odd contradiction to what people told me would happen. Trish asked me, “Did you know you just potentially saved three people?” I looked at the smallish bag of vampire juice she held, and laughed again. At the most, I thought, one person with a nosebleed, or a colony of mice that had all just received paper cuts. I smiled the rest of the evening, but the only other time I laughed was when I took off the bandage before I got in bed. I should let my blood out to play more often.