Office Perks: Oh, The Places You’ll Go. On Hold.

In only a few short quickly-passing, time-devouring* weeks, while waiting for various persons to pick up on their ends of the line, I’ve been treated to Traditional Classical, Something That Sounds Remarkably Like Polka, and the rare and delightful office boasting bad 90’s soft rock. Re-entering Le Office Space, I was almost instantly reminded of the delightful variety of hold music chosen by offices throughout the world to entertain their callers, or, most likely, and sometimes a little too obviously, as a desperate attempt to distract their patients from remembering they are out of their respective medications, and probably have called eight times already today. And also, for good measure? They are probably riding the Train O’ Crazy.

There are the hold queues that so efficiently distract you into singing along to Wilson Phillips that you blissfully forget why you were calling in the first place, and anyway, I know that there is pain, but you hold on for one more day, and you break free, break from the chains.

And then there are the hold queues that seemingly send you to a deserted Siberian mountain summit to sit in silence and ponder your place in the universe and, more importantly, what your great great great uncle’s initials REALLY stood for, because ever since you failed to unearth such earth-shattering details of your family history during your Genealogy Project in seventh grade you’ve wondered and couldn’t stop yourself from plugging in various ridiculous potential monikers for a man you always imagined to be tall and broodingly handsome to make up for the fact that his parents named him, simply, A.B. (As a small consolation during said project you did discover you aren’t related to Napoleon, and that the problem you faced as a child, you know the one about your pores being large enough to swallow a small schooner? They can almost surely be attributed to genetics. (Thanks! great great great grandma).

But the golden ticket for the best* hold queue recording, to date, has to be awarded to the business who today treated me to this gem of a message:

“Hello, and thanks for calling Dr. So and So’s Office. We are located on Such and Such Street, Near Such and Such Place. We are frequently visited by wildlife, and by mother deer with their young, stopping to drink at our pond.”

I suppose it’s not an altogether unoriginal marketing strategy.

“Clearly, Bob, as you can see from the graphs here, quality of care=number of wildlife visits, especially if by ‘number of wildlife visits’ you don’t ever mean ‘cougars, who are hungry.’”

*And by “quickly-passing, time-devouring” I mostly mean “literally, eating all of my time like a hungry hungry hippo eats marbles that surely most be covered in invisible vegetation otherwise why would a hippo eat a marble?” I also mostly mean “wonderful”; the job, it is still wonderful. Unless you count the day I stubbed my toe on the copier.

**You didn’t think it could get better than Wilson Phillips, did you? I know. Me, either.

Do A Big Sister A Favor?

Today is babycarrot sister’s 26th! Day of Cake. Being that my sister happens to be (awesome, yes! and) one of my favorite people on the planet, I think instead of being here, you should go here, and read all about what made her day great. (Seeing as how we’re all very visual learners around these parts, I will tell you that there are most definitely pictures. Of cake, even!)

You could even wish her a happy! birthday. You know, if you → Read more...

My Heart Is A Nautical-Themed Pashmina Afghan

We interrupt copious amounts of Asia recapping this broadcast for a maritime digression of sorts.

You see, I’ve been a lover of the ocean, and of all things aquatic and nautical-inspired, ever since I can remember.

My love for sea-faring-everything might very well have been fostered during the myriad spring breaks spent exploring quaint coastal communities in and around Port Ludlow, Washington. Some of my fondest childhood memories spring forth from days spent poking my curious face into every trinket shop in → Read more...

Paint By Numbers

Or, My Asian Adventure, Numerically Speaking.

1: Raw Ginseng root eaten after being offered by a kindly man with wrinkles showcasing his eyes at the Yangyang market. Also the number of photos I was asked to be in with total strangers (at the Forbidden City in Beijing).

6: Times I was asked to take pictures for total strangers.

2: Cups of mineral water I drank directly from a spring in the ground (in Osaek).

3: Flights (out of 5) wherein I had two (or → Read more...

Eggers-How We Are Hungry

I knew the Red Pyramid had just been reopened, or was about to be reopened, though I didn’t know why they called it Red. I wanted to ride on a horse through the desert. I wanted to see if this man–slight, with brown teeth, wide-set eyes, a cop mustache–would try to kill me. There were plenty of Egyptians who would love to kill me, I was sure, and I was ready to engage in any way with someone who wanted → Read more...