Dotty Parker

a pic-a-nic basket

Went to a picnic with BrilliantEditor, Tex, and Florette. It was a sort-of reunion for the business course that Tex and I took. The picnic was a success. Everyone brought food to eat (except BE and me) and there was much mixing and chatting among the different classes that had happened in different locations and at different times.

I met many fascinating people. There was a woman who was recently impregnated, in the last three or four months, who is raising chickens for eggs. They are free range, organic chickens with well-balanced chakras whose eggs maintain all of the same qualities. The local grocery co-op (there's a pun in there--chicken co-op or chicken coop, oh! I'm just too funny!) has agreed to buy all of her eggs and sell them in the store. She was going to try duck egg farming, but her husband is allergic to duck eggs. Ix-nay on the Ucks-day.

There was a friend of a student there. She lives in Boston these days with the Air Force band. She plays the bassoon. How cool is that? No one plays the bassoon. Except her. She asked what name I would give her and my quick answer was "BassoonBabe". Now, however, I am thinking better of it. I think La Bassoonista would be much better.

Of course, I do have something to complain about. Who would I be if I didn't complain? That is, of course, a question for another day. BUT!

Although I am certain that I am one of them, people who talk too loudly bother me. I think my ears are still ringing with "authoritative" commentary and long-winded story telling. It is very much not good. I vote no on the loud talking. Especially when there are other people around.

Oh, yeah, another complaint. I was teaching a class this morning and I kept getting interrupted by a co-worker. Her behavior was so strange that I started wondering if she'd taken drugs. One of my other co-workers actually asked her. (She said she doesn't do drugs.) She was hyper and telling odd stories and not doing her work and not listening.

She was telling my students, in the middle of one of my sentences, about the quilt project she was going to make for her sister. Then there was the speech about embroidering (this wasn't an embroidery class) Brad Pitt's or Mel Gibson's chest onto something.

What the hell was that all about?

So at the end of class I asked that she save the things she wanted to say for our breaks since when she talked in the middle of my class it was distracting for me.

My heart was beating kind of fast and I was really nervous. I guess I was afraid she'd start crying or that I'd be scolded for being too mean. But she just said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. Thanks for telling me. Did I tell you about doing my boyfriend's laundry? I left his socks and underwear wadded up in a ball. They weren't even dry! Hahahahahaha."

The only reason my heart was racing at that point was that I was completely mystified. I had an urge to draw a moustache on her face with the magic marker she must have been sniffing. Weird!

Posted by dotty at August 21, 2003 11:33 PM