I finished that pesky paper I had mentioned yesterday, so stress levels are down, and once again, anyone who meets me is likely to walk away thinking, "Gosh, I just met a man of leisure!" Right after that, they're going to save my number as "Do Not Answer this Number... Creep." Maybe with all the leisure time I have now, I should change my name to that.
For those of you interested in stalking me*, I'm going to Nova Scotia tomorrow morning. Now, Nova Scotia, for better or worse, is in Canadia, where the internet has yet to be discovered. Don't worry for Canadia's sake - they have their top scientist** working on it. Unfortunately, progress is slower than molasses. What this means is that I will probably not be posting for the next ten days. What this also means is that you won't have any reason to click refresh compulsively on my page, hoping that I've added a new post*.
"O kind and humorous man of leisure," you're probably asking your screen right now*, "what should I do in the meantime without your blog to amuse me and prod me into deep thought?" Proselytize. Tell people exactly what you think of me***, and then tell them to read my blog. I'd appreciate that so much that if you told me you showed someone my blog and they laughed, I would probably buy you a cookie.
A good way to spread the word about me could be to get a tattoo saying something about how much you love my blog. Nothing says unnatural devotion like injecting ink directly into your skin (if this seems extreme, just use a fat sharpee). On that note, while running today, I saw an interesting tattoo. I didn't have my camera with me, so I'll have to use my descriptive powers. Imagine, if you will, an average guy jogging in front of you with his shirt off. Brown hair, normal farmer's tan, green shorts. You keep imagining, I'm going to keep remembering. Imagine a weird spot on his lower back, right above the shorts... Look closer, through your mind's eye. It's a circle... Wait, no, it's a male sign. A male sign! A male-sign tramp-stamp! What is he trying to broadcast to the world? More importantly, is the conversation I'm imagining in my head one that's ever happened?
Him: I noticed you've got a tattoo of some squiggly lines on your lower back. Does it mean anything?
Her: It means I haven't found my soul-mate.
Him: *turns around, lifts shirt a tiny bit* Check it, babe. Hoo-ah!
Her: Ignore what I said last. It's all changed now. Let's go home.
Actually, that's probably what he thought would happen, but I can't really ever see that going down. Can anyone else envision a more realistic conversation between those two? If you can, I'd love to hear it.
I hope you all have a great time over the next ten days. Really. Please don't miss me too much*, and expect a report when I get back!
*Yeah, right. It's ok, I know I'm deluding myself.
**The person who discovered Maple Syrup. He's still alive.
***Actually, maybe you should skip this part.
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