This is me with a sign

Brooklyn Bridge

2009-07-28T10:16:00.001-07:00

CT is in New York. And CT likes to play along. (Don't we all?) Here he is on the Brooklyn Bridge.

Little known fact: the Brooklyn Bridge used to be called the "New York and Brooklyn Bridge" but (as you may agree) that seems long, especially back in the day when printed matter was hand set with leaded type, and the Brooklyn Daily Eagle apparently coined the nickname which was thusly adopted by the city in 1915.

In other news, I've never been to New York. It's definitely on the list, though. I'm not anti-big-apple. (I'm from the little apple, so I would like to see how the other half live some time.) Thank you CT. Have a good trip.

Guest sign maker: Second Sam does hot coconuts

2009-06-12T09:15:00.000-07:00

WARNING: There's a long, sort of boring story before you get to the actual explanation of the sign. Hang in there, dear readers, it will be good. I promise. (Just look how excited Second Sam is to hold her sign and her hot coconut. Just look.)

Life was hard around the office for awhile. A couple impromptu meetings were held to deliver some bad news. This made everyone sad. Sad is bad (you know this because it rhymes). I made a joke to the other directors one day that staff were about to have PTSD every time an impromptu meeting was called...and that we should call another meeting sometime but have root beer floats waiting for staff (instead of bad news). A couple directors took me seriously. (And I'm not complaining here. It was a good idea...I mean...since it includes FREE ICE CREAM, and all.)

And behold, one afternoon an all-page was sent out calling a meeting...and when we appeared...ice cream (regular, low fat, and dairy free) and Thomas Kemper Root Beer and Orange Cream soda! Huzzah!

Now the dairy-free was no nasty rice cream...no. It was Coconut Bliss. (And if you need dairy-free ice cream...get thee some of this stuff. It's yummy. Even for people who loves them some dairy, like yours truly. You see, Coconut Bliss gets its creaminess from coconut milk...not beans or rice. And let that, readers, be a lesson to you. If you're making DESSERT, think sweet things, like fruit. Not beans. Just sayin.)

So. We ate and drank floats. It was good. But it's all beside the point. The point is this: there were left overs. The freezer was (and is) full of ice cream (regular, low fat, and dairy free). And, Second Sam was in the mood for a creamy coffee beverage one afternoon. HUZZAH, said Second Sam, (insert cartoon light bulb over her curly haired head), I will use the Coconut Bliss in my coffee to make a creamy beverage.

And the hot coconut was born.

Now, if you've been paying attention at all, dear readers, you'll know that it doesn't take much to entertain (and, in fact, EXCITE) us TIMWAS models. And this Hot Coconut experience is no different. Second Sam was in love (♥) with her newly discovered hot coconut recipe, and she wanted to share that love with the office.

Second Sam IMed me (I live in the front of the office, Second Sam lives in the back with the rest the crew...in a land called Cubeland, where all the walls don't quite meet the ceiling BUT there are windows) to tell me of her new found drink concoction. She was so excited. A creamy and sweet beverage for someone who is dairy (and soy) free. Good times. Plus, we had all the ingredients right here in the office.

She typed (excitedly) that she was so excited about her hot coconuts that she was considering putting on a bikini and standing on the side of the rode with a sign saying "HOT COCONUTS HERE" offering the beverages (and the joy) to passersby.

And the TIMWAS sign was born. Actually, it's a little funny: I said, Okay. Make me one. And Second Sam thought I meant make the sign, but really I meant make me the drink. Luckily we got it sorted out, and she ended up making both. (See photo above, where Second Sam is putting the special ingredients into my lime mug.)

Note that Jules likes hers cold. NBD. We can accommodate that.

Note that Stephen just happened to walk in while the crazy was happening in the kitchen. He's holding the sign because that's what dedicated TIMWAS models do: they see a sign, and they immediately hold it and pose for a photo. That's just how they role. (I have trained them well.) Note that Stephen did not actually consume a hot coconut beverage. Oh well.

everything's better with sprinkles

2009-05-26T09:13:00.000-07:00

it's true. Take, for example, a recent journey to Spotted Cow Cream and Bean, a local coffee/gelato shop up here in Snohomish County.

I ordered a caramel macchiato (not the real kind of macchiato, the Starbucks kind..with loads of sugar and a ridiculous amount of ingredients, but sometimes you need a treat, okay?) and noticed, as I was waiting patiently for my drink to be created by the barista, a shaker of sprinkles (jimmies, to be precise) and I might have asked if she could put some sprinkles on my drink. Of course, she said (cuz she aimed to please) and then she brought over another jar of sprinkles (not jimmies, to be precise*) and I got to CHOOSE between the two.

I picked the little round ones. They melt to make a colorful display, and they're crunchy, not soft like a jimmy. Look how happy I am:

and how sad Jules is Cools is without sprinkles:

And Fourth Sam too. So sad. So sprinkle-less.

*more information than you actually wanted to know. Okay. So. I have always called the elongated sprinkles jimmies. They're really the best choice for donuts. And cupcakes. They're big and hearty. So I was wondering if the little round guys had their own name too, and becuase I love a factually accurate blog posting, I wikied the term sprinkles. WATCH out. Loads of information exists. Check it out here. I think that the correct answer here is that the little round guys (as displayed in the first photo, above) are called nonpareils in American English and French. And, as I mentioned, they are crunchy and wonderful. Jimmies are soft and wonderful, thus blending better with the texture of, say, a donut. It's all about what's UNDER the sprinkles, ya'll.

Also, I am the proud bearer of this new piece of information: in England they call jimmies hundreds-and-thousands. That's pretty great, if a bit long to say.

sammy d gets a computer

2009-05-12T12:55:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you need a new computer. AND, sometimes you are having a bad day. SO! You go to Costco and buy that new computer. Yesterday was such a day for Sammy D.

She and Jules is Cools shot right out to Costco to pick up that laptop she'd been drooling/agonizing over. (buying your own computer is a big deal, ya'll. it's right up there with a matching bedroom set and/or a minivan in its "you are now an adult" in-your-face symbolic realism.)

That realism isn't fazing her in this picture, though. We took a couple shots, but this one had the actual enthusiasm we were going for in the photo shoot. Her eyes are wide with excitement; the feeling of faster internet surfing is butt-on-the-edge-of-your-seat palpable. Plus, she's pointing. Even better.

Jules is Cools looks great with the new laptop, if I do say so myself. And I do. Note the recycled/reused TIMWAS sign--made from the box in which the laptop arrived. We're green here. Oh yes we are.

I'm showing off the interesting feature of the laptop--namely the decorative design on the lid. It's circles and stuff. I wasn't sure how I should feel about such decoration on such a machine. I mean, the imac tried with the colored computers, right? and that seemed like more of a miss than a hit.

Maybe machines aren't supposed to be FUN. Maybe they're just supposed to be sleek, and shiny, like my stainless steel toaster (yes, I have a stainless steel toaster.) Maybe. I'm no industrial designer, here, people. Just a girl holding another girl's laptop, asking that girl to love her. Or something like that.

guest sign maker: Jules is cools

2009-05-11T16:03:00.000-07:00

Jules is cools went on a cruise. A one-day cruise (insert edited Gilligan's Island theme song here). From Vancouver (the real one, in British Columbia, where all the vowels are long and the money is funny) to Seattle. With her girls.

And she was sweet enough to conjure up a sign for TIMWAS. Yes, here she is, on her cruise. She's sitting by the pool. No big deal.

And here she is with her girls, still by the pool. (I'm thinking that when the cruise is only one day long, you have to get as much pool time as possible. But I don't know for sure; I've never been on a one day cruise.)

See, the deal is this: sometimes the cruise ships have to be "repositioned" from Seattle to Vancouver or vice versa...and the cruise ships let you come on and play one day cruise for a few bucks. You sip mojitos (as seen above) and eat quesadillas (ditto) and lay by the pool (unless it's raining, which is usually is).

But first you take a shuttle up to Vancouver...that's a bus to us normal folks. Unless you're Jules is cools. And then you're SO COOLS that you take a limo up to Vancouver.

So there you have it. One day TIMWAS cruise. Thanks guest sign maker Jules.

(yep, that rhymed. Aww, Yeah.)

PS. I should note. More photos and witty commentary about both this one-day cruise and other critical information can now be found here.

office puppy

2009-04-14T16:48:00.000-07:00

There's a new sheriff in town. And his name is Chaka. He's a Chinook. And he visits almost every afternoon. He is currently four months old, and is (according to his dad) a bit of a drama queen. I think he's real cute, if a bit mouthy (he's all oral-fixation at present).

He's all legs and paws and wiggle right now too, what with being a puppy and all. But the best part about him is that he pads around the office dragging his back feet ever-so-slightly. He's a shuffler. You can hear him coming on the very compact carpet. Shuff-shuff-jingle-shuff-shuff-jingle. It's pretty great. Also, when I see him, I give him a play bow, and he jumps up a little and wiggles over to me. The wiggling is full-bodied, and he often runs into the edge of the door frame on his way into my office. He doesn't notice that he runs into things. He's growing rapidly and this is just a part of his life. This is also pretty great.

Secretly, I think my yellow dog is an almost-Chinook. Very similar characteristics, including size, looks, and temperament. Gentle, even temperament; incredibly loyal, almost barkless. Health problems: excessive shyness, seizures. Check, check, and check. Emotionally sensitive. Check. Double coat with either seasonal or almost constant shedding. CHECK (on the constant). My yellow dog has dropped ears, which apparently, Chaka didn't get. They are "preferred" in the breed. But. Chaka's ears are completely dexterous; he can pin them all the way back so he's aerodynamic. So he's got that.

Here's Jules with the puppy. Note how serious he looks. His forehead is even squinched a little. Serious serious. Jules is not so serious. She's pretending that she doesn't have so much work to do. As am I. We're pretending the country isn't in the biggest recession in twenty years and the federal government didn't just release an enormous stimulus package that's putting 3.3 million dollars into our agency that we have to spend in 24 months without really hiring more people. NBD.

We're not thinking about that at all. We're thinking about how the puppy is cute, and how we're taking a photo with the puppy, and how the puppy had a play date with another office dawg in the field across the parking lot from our office and is now a stinky sweaty puppy because he hasn't grown in his undercoat yet. And how, after this photo op, we're going to have to wash the stinky off our hands. But in a few months, this won't be an issue at all. And we'll have all the photo ops we want, without the washing.

Although Jules is a bit of a hand-washing freak. So she'll still be washing. But cupcake, not her. She has a yellow dog, and if she had to wash every time she touched him, her hands would be scaly and peeling at all times. And that's just not a good way to live.

this message is from your local high school

2009-03-25T15:10:00.000-07:00

and, by "your local high school," I really mean "my local high school"

Really, Franklin always has the BEST signs, but I'm usually driving when I go past them, and not able to get my camera out fast enough. This time the mister was driving, and to my good fortune, the camera was at the ready. The picture quality still sucks. But the message is timeless, even with the poor coloration.

timeless. i tell you.

jules's last day in the USA!*

2009-02-27T10:48:00.000-08:00

*for awhile

Jules is going to Ghana tomorrow. Do you know about Ghana? It's a country in Africa. Africa is a CONTINENT (the second biggest one, after Asia). (I wrote this in all caps so that you would remember. A lot of people think of Africa as one big country. It's not. So there. Remember that.) The continent of Africa contains a number of countries. One of them is called Ghana.

Look how excited she is! She is busting-out-of-her-skin excited. It's warm in Ghana, and given that the Seattle metro area was draped in three inches of snow yesterday, she's probably ready for some warm.

She'll be gone for three weeks. That's not a lot of time when you consider that a plane ticket to Ghana costs a lot of duckets, but it's a long time when you consider how empty the office will be without her.

Third Sam (Sammy D) is pretty excited too. Except not as excited, since she has to stay here, on this continent, known as North America. Specifically, she will stay in Seattle. That's where she lives.

Seattle is a city in the state of Washington, which is part of a country called The United States of America (or USA for short). The USA is a portion of the continent of North America, which also includes the countries of Canada and Mexico. [and, depending on who you ask, Greenland, Bermuda, and St. Pierre and Miquelon (which, ps, are PART OF FRANCE).]

[although, if you wiki North America, it tells you that sometimes people think of it as a sub-continent--the whole contienet being called America, and containing a northern, middle (or central), and souther portion. This messes with my brain though, dear readers, because it decreases the number of continents--7--by one--making only 6. I don't like that one bit. There are supposed to be 7 continents, 7 days of the week, 7 wonders of the world...etc.].

Also. If you read on wikipedia, apparently a lot of countries differ on their idea of where North America ends and Central America begins. This too confuses and upsets me. Therefore, I'm going to stop with the geography lesson now. I'm in WAY over my head. This is one more reason that I was a literature major.

Let me introduce Ally to you. Ally is new to TIMWAS, but was gracious enough to play (after I made her take a blood oath that she wouldn't sue me for putting her photo on the internets). She is daintily holding the sign so that you can see the footnote. The footnote says: "* for awhile." This is an important part of the sign, because without it you might think that Jules is going to Ghana forever, and that we as friends and coworkers should have AT LEAST thrown her a goodbye party and not just made this stupid sign to send her off. But, dear readers, she'll be gone for only three weeks, and this stupid sign is enough. I promise.

and now a message from mike mills

2009-02-19T17:36:00.001-08:00

Cupcake has gotten older

2009-01-06T16:13:00.000-08:00

as of...2:35 AM today. That's right, dear readers, it's my birthday. Go ahead, celebrate.

My inter-office birthday buddy (IOBB) is awesome, dear readers. She not only baked me a cake (oh yes, with the OVEN), she provided me with birthday daffodils, a birthday balloon, a birthday card (signed by our officemates), and a birthday starbucks card. She rocks my socks. Oh yes she does. [You can see the flowers and the baloon in the photo. Good photo, eh? So many birthday-specific props.]

My other inter-office birthday pals (IOBPs) helped me celebrate by doing one or more of the following: a) joining me for lunch today, b) joining me for lunch on Thursday (my IOBB coudn't make it to lunch today and so organized an office lunch for me on Thursday), c) showering me with gifts* and good wishes, and/or d) posing in my birthday TIMWAS (see below).

Jules got her hairs cut since you saw her last. You should comment on how cute her hairs look. She didn't take much length off the front, just stacked in the back. You know how it is. The sad thing is that the salon was having technical difficulties with their water system and she had to have her hairs washed in cold water. That's pretty lame, I think. Plus, she didn't even get a free haircut out of the deal. The happy thing is that we went to Panera for lunch and she (not so) casually noted that it was my birthday, and then I got a free cookie out of the deal. Okay, so those two things are not at all related. But one is happy and one is sad. So there. They're opposites. Opposites are related, right? I mean, they attract.

Note that Second Sam has a prop. This is not super newsworthy, as you know, but I'd like to point it out anyway. It's a star-shaped box. She said, "I'll hold this. Because you are a star. That will be cute." It's hard to see the star-shaped box behind the sign. That's why I'm explaining all this. If you could see the star-shaped box better, you'd probably think to yourself, "hmm...I bet she's holding that because she thinks that cupcake is a star. How cute." and then I wouldn't need to be explaining. But the box is smaller than one might think. Especially on the diagonal.

Also, it's cold like a meat locker in Sam's cube. I knit her some Bob Crachits. She likes them. They help keep her hands from feeling like frozen meat.

Stephen likes to play too. He's rocking out...see the earbuds? (They're in his ears.) (I wonder what he's listening to? Monks chanting? Hard-core English Metal? Spanish lessons? Comment below if you think you know.)

He is also dancing, thus the crappy photo quality. It's hard to photograph a dancer in a dark cubical. Yes it is. He sits on one of those ball chairs that make you have good posture and stuff, so to dance he can just bounce. He's on a bouncy ball chair. Yes, he is. Remember those? With the handle? Well, this is essentially that, but in an approved office Grown Up version.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I gots to get me one of those.

WAIT! This just in: My dear Mother-In-Law has sent me a TIMWAS submission. Can you believe it!?!? What a fabulous birthday gift! (and look how cute she is... and look, behind her...could it be...a gavron tag? why yes! yes it could! Thanks for the subliminal advertising!!!)

Unsolicited submissions to TIMWAS make my heart melt. A lot.

this is me celebrating the new year

2009-01-04T17:37:00.001-08:00

not everyone does it this way...but they probably should. it starts with a trip to the thrift store. a browse through the aisles. then some serious decisions--bright pink or aquamarine? curly or straight? feathers or non-flammable plastic hair?

then you visit your four-year old neighbor's collection of dress up clothes for a final wig selection.

on new year's day, you wake mid-morning, dust off your hangover, and don your swanky suit. you congregate at the kiddy wading pool at green lake, meeting and greeting those also engaged in the centuries-long tradition of bringing in the new year donning a coordinated two-piece nylon suit from under the tousled strands of your synthetic hair piece.

you walk the almost three mile loop around the lake with like-minded revelers, greeting passersby with a jovial "happy new year." people stop you and ask if you're part of "some group." you just shrug. you laugh. you walk on.

Day Nine. Or so. Of the snow.

2008-12-19T17:21:00.000-08:00

We had a great time with the TIMWAS yesterday...and there was mirth around the world because of it. And at a time of such cold and blustery weather, mirth cannot be taken for granted. And so, Jules, Miss Fun Herself, led another spirited round of TIMWAS today...but this time IN THE OFFICE.

That is, those who live near the office were forced to drive their way in today...even though it was icy and blustery and 17 degrees out. (I, however, played the "I live an hour away in normal traffic and it would take an extra hour or two each way to get to work...and what a waste of my time" card and stayed home.)

Here's what Jules orchestrated...not so much a "let's go out in the snow again" type sign, but a more cozy version, seen above. Note, though, the delicious costume that Jules is wearing, and the scenery which which she used as a backdrop. Highly realistic, Jules. Nice job. In fact, I think that if you were not holding that there sign, explaining the circumstances of the photo shoot, I would have thought you were indeed OUTSIDE. And that, dear readers, is AWEsome.

Also awesome, is the cast of characters Jules recruited for her submission, including CT, a first-timer who gave me his "express and espresso" permission to use his likeness on my personal blog. In writing. Oh yes. It's CYA time, ya'll.

CT looks pretty dreamy in this picture, as in, he is loving the idea of a winter wonderland. CT lives in the People's Republic of Woodinville, where re was blessed with over 10 inches of snow while I was busy marking accumulation with my garden quail. He, therefore, wins the "who got more snow and still made it to work" contest, of which, I am happy to be a loser.

Here's Stephen, a now-faithful contributor. He's posing with broccoli, which clearly underlines the message proclaimed on his sign, as no one in their right (or left) mind would take their green vegetables outside. Oh no. Also, you should know that Stephen is married to Second Sam. Yes, that's right. And I'm wondering if Second Sam got her penchant for props from Stephen, or if it was the otherway 'round. Hmmm, I say.

Now though Second Sam would normally carpool with Stephen to the office, Fridays are her days to telecommute. Second Sam is always up for a sign though, and I passed the photos that Jules sent her way as an invitation. Here's what I received, three photos and an important clarification:

A few notes to the readers, to avoid any misunderstanding or miscommunication that is ever present at this time of year. A time when we celebrate love and joy with loud commercials selling me things I don't want (misunderstanding) and when snow falls in Seattle instead of Detroit (miscommunication).

I digress...

In the photo of me, I am indeed PRETENDING to sleep for the sake of the photo. I am indeed working. Not sleeping, except for in the pretend photo. Need proof? Who can possibly hold a sign and push a camera button in her his/her sleep? Need more proof? My performance evaluation is amost done. Note that Darwin is quite happy to pose with the sign.

Yogi, however, is rejecting the sign. No sign for yogi. She moved onto my leg to sleep. Not pretend sleep. But real sleep.

Late last night, I realized I had forgotten to play. Lukily, the mister obliged me with a great shot. I thought, since everyone else had stayed INSIDE, I should go OUTSIDE, just to add a bit of variety to the posting. And here I am:
Tristan, the yellow (and currently very fat) dog, came to join in the fun. Since Darwin and Yogi got to play, here too is Tristan.

A bone-chilling, electricity-losing, storm-to-end-all storms is on its way, dear readers. Hunker down. Stay safe. Drink plenty of fluids.

SNOW

2008-12-18T16:17:00.001-08:00

Really? In Seattle? YES. See here for a blow by blow (and, btw, as of this posting...it's STILL SNOWING. And it's not supposed to stop.)

So. I sent out the word this morning to the coworker peeps who so graciously model for this here blog. Make your own sign, I said. Go out in the snow, I said. And you, too, I said, will be featured on TIMWAS.

So Joe and I had to go to the post office. Cuz Santa has to come, ya'll, even in a snow storm. And then we stopped for mochas at the best bakery ever. And then for a walk through Columbia Park, to view the sweet snowball fight occurring between EVERY teenager in town. But by the time we got our double mochas in our 100% US made corn travel mugs...the teens were gone. Boo. Alas, I still got a shot (with mocha) in front of not ONE, but TWO, stalled, jack-knifed, and stuff articulated city buses. Cuz that's how Seattle rolls, ya'll. The buses run on snowy days...until they can't run any more. And then they just block traffic for a number of hours until the city can get the mega-tow-trucks out. NBD.

Sorry about the wide angle shot there, folks. A girl's got to show off both of the stranded buses. BOTH.

And here's the mister. Sporting some art. Not sure what it is, and there was much too much snow for me to read the plaque. That is, dear readers, if there is a plaque. A girl might not know...since there was snow. (And that, my friends, is called a RHYME.)

I want to give a big shout out to the mister for his very first TIMWAS appearance. He doesn't work at my office, you know, so he's often not there for a photo shoot. But now, alas, he works from home. And when it snows I do too! Huzzah. Now he can play too.

(Also, he was at my big girl birthday party, but it's sad, because I was so busy running around getting everyone's picture with the sign that I--gasp--forgot to get him with it. HIM! My favorite person ON THIS EARTH. I was so sad when I realized it. And then mad at him for not saying something at the time. But that, dear reader, is neither here nor there. He has made his maiden appearance on TIMWAS now. And you should (perhaps) expect to see more of him.)

So! Back to the TIMWAS submissions from across the Puget Sound region. In the order in which they arrived in my In box. (which is not a box, really, it's fairly flat.)

First comes Jules. Jules is SUCH a good sport. She ran right out--RIGHT OUT--I tell you. And not only that, but it appears as though she used the BACK side of a piece of paper that had already been employed for another purpose. That's mighty eco-friendly of her, wouldn't you say? I would. In fact, I just did.

BEHOLD:

And next, dear reader, comes Sammy D, who...you might notice...is missing something. What could it be? Comment below if you think you know. It's okay. Not everyone is as excited about TIMWAS as I might be. That doesn't make their contribution any less special. No it doesn't. PLUS, SD is super cute. And bundled. And EXCITED looking. And she must get props for that. So. There. Props to SD.

While the mister and I were out shooting strange art and jack-knifed, stranded, articulated buses, Second Sam was in her yard practicing the new vogue art of...SNOGA. You heard it here first, TIMWAS readers, snoga...the new trend that is sweeping the nation. Here she is in...what is this...modified sign-holding tree pose? (SS--you'll have to comment and correct me on the poses...you can even add the Sanskrit names since I know that the TIMWAS readership loves them some factoids.)
And my personal favorite from the SNOGA collection: the handstand. Note the cold hands. And the tape to keep the sign on. This is some serious Snoga dedication. We applaud you SS, for your snoga dedication. And we find you a bit odd. But in a good way. In a super sweet submission kind of way.
And then. Please meet Ash. Ash has not participated in TIMWAS yet. And why, you might ask? Cuz Ash is BUSY. That's with all capitol letters. SO BUSY. She's an accountant. And that means she comes in really early and stays awhile, but is not often found screwing around. (Or let's say, her screwing around is even more subversive than ours...) But I think this is a BANG UP first submission, readers, and so will you. JUST LOOK:

She is having so much fun. But where are her mittens, you ask. That is a great question. Hopefully she did not get frostbite, like dear Second Sam almost did. Snow is fun, ya'll. But it is also dangerous.

But this here is the best shot of all, don't you think? Props to Ash's main squeeze Jordan (yes, like the almonds--YUM) for the high-shot photo. (No they don't have a crane in their yard. Yes they live up high like birds in a nest.)

Huzzah! Thanks for the participation ya'll!!! And a very happy snow day to you.

also...where's Stephen? He took SS shots for us, so I know he was on location. But why no SB shots with the sign? No Snoga for SB? What gives?

BREAKING NEWS: Stephen apparently forgot (amidst the day's frivolity--or maybe he was just stunned by the ingeniousness of SNOGA) to take his TIMWAS photo. Upon seeing this blog post, he rapidly ran out to the yard for a photo even in the dark. (I can tell you, with absolute certainty, that Second Sam created that sign for him--the handwriting tells all. And that, I say, is a true marriage/partnership. You make the snow pile--er--mountain, I'll make the sign.)

The best part of this photo, to me, is that Stephen is posing with...wait for it...a snow PILE. Turns out our snow yesterday was too cold and crispy for creating snow forts, snow men, snow birds, and snow dogs. So. There were a number of failed attempts around my neighborhood--soft lumpy piles that aspired to be the round ball that serves as the belly base of the snowperson, but just refused to ball.

This is exemplified in Stephen's submission of the snow and the dark.

BEHOLD: the Snow Mountain. (Note, too, the spruce topper to said mountain. A lovely touch.)

A valiant attempt, If I do say so myself. (Again, I just did. So. There.)

Thanks Stephen! Here's a long shot, so you can see the true height and splendor of said mountain.

(Also, your eyes are closed like you are feigning sleep. Is that because it's already dark and you are so tired? Please don't sleep in the snow like that. You're not prepared for the 17 degree temps in that position...see information about the danger of snow, above.)

this is me in a beard

2008-12-09T13:49:00.000-08:00

I'm back in the office today...which is fun. Fun because there are fun people here (mostly Jules and Second Sam) to play with. And by play, I mean, make beards with.

The original idea was this: we would make our seasonal secret spy disguises from keri smith. But, upon closer examination by Second Sam (our resident Jew) this secret spy disguise was much much too much like Santa. (BTW...the Christians won't claim Santa...as he's not the reason for the season...but the Jews won't claim him either. I guess he'll just have to be the patron saint at the temple of the almighty dollar...)

Second Sam wanted to find a good Jewish mask to wear.

Then I remembered another cut and paste project featured on Operation Nice. So I sent Second Sam and Jules the link...told them to pick a beard, print, cut and pose, and here you have it.

I, of course, chose the biggest mustache available. I have a bit of a mustache thing. How they're like little pets on a face. How they make any normal guy look like a pedophile. How horribly ironic they are when worn by hipsters. I think I look pretty good in my handlebars, if I do say so myself.

Second Sam instantly chose the Bob Ross beard. She feels like she and Bob Ross could be relatives. See the resemblance?

Note that Sam wants you to know, dear reader, that while she looks a lot like Bob Ross (think happy little clouds), and while she does have a slight Jew-'fro, she is, in fact, NOT Bob Ross.

Jules went ahead and picked the rapper beard. And you can't blame her. Around these parts she's even known as "Jules is Cools," which might be a sweet rapper name should she ever decide to round up a DJ and lay down some tracks on the ones and twos. (Oh yeah, this white girl knows the lingo, aiiight?)

Check out Jules's sweet rapper pose. She's ready to hit platinum, ya'll.

And, just for grins, here's Bob Ross in his own beard. Thanks to Second Sam for the super awesome low-res print out of Mr. Ross himself.

*Thanks to Operation Nice for the assignment. And thanks to the Build a Beard workshop for the supplies and the incentive.

guest sign maker: Sayra

2008-11-24T12:20:00.000-08:00

This just in from my dear dear friend Sayra, who is not only a fantastic friend, but also a superstar in the field of sea turtle research.

How do I know she's a superstar? I know because she's currently on her way home from Gabon, where she has been for about twelve weeks hanging out waiting for Olive Ridley turtles to show up to nest so she can tag them. How did she get there? (besides the planes and the chicken buses) oh, you know, National Science Foundation grants and some grant from...I don't know...this little company called...Disney. NBD.*

Look at the turtles swim around here. Read about Sara's Gabon adventures and turtle stuff here.

But. Sayra is not just a rockstar and a super duper friend. She's also the kind of girl who will PLAY ALONG. Give her any game. She'll play. It's totally true.

So you can imagine my excitement (but not my supreme surprise) when she sent me this from Gabon:
That IS a big turtle. That's a leatherback. So rad.

She mentioned in her email that there was a plan to take a photo with another sign that read: me with a sign and a LITTLE turtle, but alas, she was busy actually doing her job, and walking miles and miles of beach in the dark every night looking for turtles. So, if she didn't get that second sign picture done, well, give her a break.

Here's a photo with a little turtle (who, btw, is still pretty big, as in, you're not going to be able to keep this one in that aquarium in your bedroom) in which she could have sported the sign. This is the elusive Olive Ridley turtle, who took their own SWEET ASS time to get to the beach, and thus caused miss Sayra to have to stay in Gabon eating canned sardines for another six weeks or so...

See how little? And sweet? And how fabulous Sayra is?

Yes. Yes you do.

*Thus, rockstar status.

Drive by signage: Yes we can

2008-11-07T16:21:00.000-08:00

i'm not one to get too political, since i would die defending your right to disagree with me. but, i must say, i'm pretty excited about this new president we just elected. and i'm pretty excited not just about him as a guy, necessarily, but about him as a galvanizing force for our country. hopefully we'll all stay (become) community organizers. we got work to do, ya'll.

this is me with a tiny hat

2008-10-09T16:37:00.000-07:00

At the What about Tomorrow Career & College Fair, at which I was taking photos (back shots, not face shots, of the children--whose likenesses are not to be used without their parents' express permission) and the whole thing was COLD because it was held at the Comcast Arena at the Everett Events Center, which is where ice hockey is played and where ice is living, under the floor boards (which are really not like boards at all, but like that crappy cardboard-board-like stuff, which is thin and not at all insulative).

Exhibitors were warned in advance and told to bring carpet remnants to sit on, but I, dear readers, was not sitting. I was walking and taking photos. I wore my Danskos, the tallest heals I have, but my feet were still cold. And so was I. And if you follow my tweets, you know that. BUT, I did get a pedicure mid-fair during which I asked for extra soak-your-toes-in-the-hot-bubbling-water time, which you also know.

Cuz, yes yes, ya'll, the tweets don't stop.

So.

Some hats. Tiny ones. Props, if you will. Not suitable for wearing on site at an actual construction area.

you are beautiful

2008-09-29T09:33:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure you want to keep your fingers

2008-09-22T16:52:00.001-07:00

So don't mess with the sign, k?

from Stellar Pizza, a great little place with good pizza, good beer, and a photobooth. Oh, and a awesome plane you can now ride for a quarter even though the sign says it costs 50 cents.

hair twinz!

2008-08-29T14:29:00.000-07:00

You've heard of identical hand twins. What about hair twinz?

It's true. Thanks to Fourth Sam for reminding me about the poof. The poof is EXCELLENT styling method while growing out your bangs, if, like me, you want to claw your eyes out after more than three hours of hair in your face.

I used to do the poof, way back when, when my hair was first growing out and making me crazy. Back then just one teeny tiny claw clip could hold the poof. But my hair (thankfully) kept growing. And the teeny tiny clip no longer held all the hair. And slowly, I forgot about the poof.

AND THEN. Fourth Sam appeared, and reminded me that the poof can be done with old-fashioned bobby pins! So now we're both poofed. And I'm the copy kitten. But I don't care, because now, by the end of the day, I don't feel the crazed urge to scratch out my eyes due to the hair and its tickling all up in my face.

Sadly, Jules is NOT poofed today. Cuz if she was, we could have been POOF TRIPLETS.

No worries, Jules has her own hair twin. AND, they have twin grimaces too.

Fourth Sam

2008-08-21T15:40:00.000-07:00

So, even though Governor Gregoire announced a hiring, travel, fun, office supplies, driving, and working freeze, and the economy is in the tank, and biodiesel is still over $5 a gallon, we have hired our fourth Sam. What? you ask, you didn't know about the third Sam?

I know. Remember how signs are on the DL? We can't always initiate every Sam we hire into the TIMWAS circle. The TIMWAS circle is, dare I say, sacred.

The truth is, we didn't actually hire the Third Sam. We only lease space to him in our office, since we can't hire new people and we have open cubicles. It's a money saver. (In these times of economic downturn, we all gots to get paid, foo')

Anyway, we didn't actually hire the Fourth Sam, either. The Fourth Sam is a member of our AmeriCorps program, who will be housed in our office for the service year with the title of TEAM LEADER. AmeriCorps Members are not employees in the traditional sense, ie they can't claim unemployment when their term of service is over, and--hey--they don't get paid so much as they get a living stipend which, by the way, is not enough to really live on. But I digress.

The TEAM LEADER leads the team of AmeriCorps Members. I'm not sure where they're going, but she will lead them, oh yes she will.

(Second Sam and Fourth Sam)

BTW--In case you wanted an extra challenge, there's a hidden riddle in this TIMWAS posting. Much like Where's Waldo*, this posting might be called "Where's First Sam?"** She's in every photo. Take a look and see if you can find her!

* CAUTION: this link leads to comic sans. Don't say I didn't warn you.

** Answers below. Click to enlarge.

NOLA love

2008-07-22T11:16:00.000-07:00

Just returned from 10 days in my new favorite city: New Orleans. It's been almost three years since Katrina and Rita slammed this city, and there's still SO much work to be done. What's exciting (and part of what makes me love NOLA) is all the public art that has sprung up in response to devestation, loss, and despair.

Take the Generic Art Solutions(GAS), and this sign...click on it to read the words more closely: Hope can make a difference.

this is me with a hat

2008-07-07T16:40:00.000-07:00

Roxy doesn't have a sign. But she does have a hat.

Guest sign maker: Jules & 2nd Sam

2008-06-11T09:49:00.000-07:00

Who has the BEST coworkers ever? I do.

Not only did Joe and I just post our first ever commercial (which is to say, for sale) screen printed tshirts on our etsy site two days ago, but Jules was our FIRST ever tshirt customer. She's a rock star.

And now look...I'm working from home today and I get an email from Jules with these awesome guest signmaker photos. Look how stunning Jules looks in her new tshirt from Gavron Designs. I bet seeing her makes you want to run out* and buy your own awesome cherry tree** tshirt.

But enough about me. Let's talk photos.

Look at how happy Jules is in her new tshirt. Look at what a great fit it is, mostly because it was manufactured in Los Angeles in a sweatshop free, vertically integrated company framework. Holler!
Couple things though. See this second shot, below? See how awkward Jules' arm looks? Don't try this shot at home. Seriously. Jules has these amazing jelly-donut-esque limbs that make all manner of poses possible. (She does love her some posing and she's had lot of practice.) And it's good too, so that you can see the awesome gavron logo printed on the back of her new awesomely awesome tshirt from gavron designs.

It's been printed in silver. How cool is that? You don't see silver ink everyday, do you? But you wish you did.

Secondly, can we talk about all the cubicle wall clippy things Jules has behind her? What's that about? Remember when we used to work in the old building and the office supply Nazi reigned and we weren't allowed to order things like cubicle wall clippy things and so when people came in late to work, or took a vacation, or even a long lunch, we would raid each other's cubes to steal all unoccupied clippy things?

Remember? And they were all white? Because if you could make some detailed argument about the absolute NEED for cubicle wall clippy things (CWCTs) then you were NEVER allowed to order anything with color, because they not only disguised the drabness of the office (must continue meeting drabness quotient) but they also cost about three cents more EACH which was going to immediately put us into a budget shortfall so that we wouldn't be able to help poor people ANYmore. All because of YOU and your vacuous need for CWCTs.

Well, someone finally broke though the barbed wire lines of the order supply Nazi and got us some--GASP--colored CWCTs, and we all went CRAZY for them, knowing that things of this sort were like GOLD around the office, and that they could be taken away and SCARCE again at any time, and so we HOARDED them, in our desk drawers and in locked file cabinets, in the arm rests of our cars out in the parking lot, working under the assumption that the supply order team was never going to order any more ever again (this, by the way, was also happening around the office with binder clips, pens that didn't suck, colored post-it notes, and highlighters) and should we again feel the need to clip something to our cube walls the stockpiling would leave us adequately prepared. We were all stocking up for the Office Armageddon.

But the Armageddon didn't happen. And because we went from over 30 employees to our current 16.5*** until there was a surplus of CWCTs. People would leave (retire, find other employment, get laid off, get fired) and we'd run into their cubes to steal leftover office supplies, including CWCTs. And then, we were facing 30% year over year federal budget cuts, and we stopped replacing those people who left, and we all suddenly had too many clippy things. (Can you really ever have too many, you ask? What if you get a lot of things that need clipping?) Well, dear reader, I have to say that Jules might have too many. She is, however, in the process of moving cubicles (another long story), and these photos were taken mid-move, and so it may be that she has taken down all her clippable items and not yet migrated the CWCTs over to the new cube, where she may affix them (clipping, if you will) and then clip the corresponding clippable items. There may not, indeed, be a surplus of CWCTs and this post may be in vein. I will of course, dear reader, keep you posted.

Now on to Second Sam. See how sad she is? Her sign says she's sad because she doesn't have a gavron shirt. But I know for a fact that she just placed a special order with one of the business partners of gavron (that would be me, for those of you playing along at home), and that maybe she's sad because she doesn't have as many CWCTs as Jules has but she can't steal them while Jules is taking her picture because then there'd be HARD EVIDENCE of the thieving.

Or, she may just long for a gavron designs shirt. I know that the shirts are so awesomely awesome that it wouldn't be out of the ordinary to long for one.

So. I think that there are two morals to pick up from this post (long and painful though it may have been). Firstly, don't be sad like Second Sam. It's okay to pop on over to gavrondesigns.etsy.com and order a shirt. And second, if you see an unoccupied CWCT, GRAB IT.

*and by "run out" I mean "log on" to gavrondesigns.etsy.com

** look familiar? Say from this calendar? I thought so.

*** Rest assured, the .5 is a half-time person, not just a head and torso.

Did someone get LINK HAPPY in this posting? I think so. Is it a bit of shameless advertising? Yes, it is. Is is a bit funny? Wait and see.

Guest sign maker & cupcake love

2008-06-10T12:02:00.000-07:00

This just in from TIMWAS field reporter and guest sign contributor DS. Look at her fabulous daughter's new t-shirt! Just look! Since DS loves her some Cupcake (the author), and she knows that her Cupcake (the author), loves her some signage, she and her daughter, Little Miss Cupcake (LMS) sent in this photo.

Okay, so there were three photos, but this one was the best, not only because of the tongue, but because of the sweet temporary tattoo seen on LMS's chubby cupcake arm.

If TIMWAS had its own t-shirts or some other parting gifts, I would send one your way, DS and LMS. Thanks for thinking of me!

enough with the wet already!

2008-06-06T16:00:00.000-07:00

Seriously. It's June now people. School's out for the summer, and all that. Maybe we should think about bringing the sun out.

Which reminds me of when I worked as a day-cruise sales girl in Anchorage after my first year of grad school. I sold 3, 4, and 6 hour cruises out of Whittier, AK and Seward, AK to show tourists whales and calving glaciers in the freezing rain. People ACTUALLY asked me, "What time do they let out the whales in the morning?" (Side note: no one "lets out" any whales, least of all a small day cruise ship company. Whales are actually WILD around those parts and they swim at will, day and night.] But I digress.

So...can somone bring out the sun!?!?! (Seriously, what's the day that you let out the sun?)

Also, in case you can't tell, Jules and I are holding invisible umbrellas in our shots. That's cuz TIMWAS is on the DL, so we can't just ask someone in the office to borrow their umbrella for like three minutes, and coming up with a ruse to borrow an umbrella is WAY TOO much work for a Friday afternoon. We're also both wearing my rain coat, which is pretty cute, and may be the ONLY good thing about rain.

nuthin'

2008-05-23T14:35:00.001-07:00

It's a Friday. A Friday before a three-day weekend, which basically means that there are about four of us in the office.

Pretending to work.

We took a field trip to Taco Time for lunch and then watched the season finale of The Office on the big screen in the training room.

I got a lot done this morning, and even some stuff this afternoon. But it's almost three, which means it's almost time to go, which means, there's just no use in starting any real projects becuase by the time I get back on Tuesday (or in my case, Thursday, becuase I'll be working from home on Tuesday on a different project and I have a conference on Wednesday), I'll be lost and have to start all over anyway.

So we (we being two of the four staff people in the office today--me and Jules) thought, hmmm, we could do a TIMWAS.

Yes, we thought. That would be lovely.

However, there wasn't much to sign about. Over IM we discussed the theme of the sign.

Some brainstorms:

1. Something about how much my abs hurt from my killer workout with Miyuki last night.

2. Something about how Jules is going camping with a pile of boys this weekend who never even thought about buying food for four days...so she's making a Costco run after work

3. Something about waiting for the long weekend to start

4. Something about how it WON'T STOP RAINING even though April is long over'

5. Some other innapropriate stuff

6. Something about how much we hate MS Publisher

7. Something about THIS guy with the calculator

And came up with nuthin'. Literally, and figuratively.

it's hard out here for a cupcake...

2008-05-08T14:51:00.000-07:00

...especially when someone leaves a big chunk of something on the highway.

What kind of something, Cupcake? you ask?

Well dear reader, I don't know. I didn't see it. I didn't even FEEL it. I just heard it and looked back to see a three-dimensional object catapulting behind my little white previously-new car. Then, at Albertson's (stopping to pick up donuts), I saw a scary sequence of startling scars (not unlike this horrendous use of alliteration):

(Luckily I took it to Progressive's concierge service and they marked it up for me, thus turning it into a sign, worthy of TIMWAS.)

And, for those of you who like gore...a close up AND then, a close up--with finger--to display the scar's depth.

If you feel sorry for me, you should head on over to the shop and buy something. It will help me pay my deductable. :)

WBP: pancake flour

2008-05-02T16:37:00.003-07:00

found at my new favorite coffee shop, Georgetown's All City Coffee.

Chez Macdonaux

2008-04-30T19:25:00.000-07:00

It was Elise's idea: let's have a foodie night where we re-imagine McDonald's food into gourmet food a person would actually want to eat. Elise took on the hamburger*. Joe did filet-o-fish**. Jim mastered the chicken nugget***. And I worked on the apple pie.

Aaron wanted to star in TIMWAS...so here he is, with the filet-o-fish and the menu.

* grass fed beef, rosemary sourdough roll, yummy yummy aioli

** panko-breaded and pan-fried sole with garlic, chive, caper, parsley tartar sauce on a freshly made roll.

*** lightly fried all-white meat chicken with three dipping sauces: a kickin' BBQ, a tart honey mustard, and an amazing garlic aioli.

****handmade puff pastry filled with a pan-stirred sauce of pink lady apples, brown sugar, cinnamon, and freshly ground nutmeg.

brush with fame--BLAKE LEWIS

2008-04-22T17:03:00.000-07:00

hello dear readers...have i got a treat for you!

today I had my very own brush with fame...as an audience member on Northwest Afternoon, one of the longest running local talk shows in Washington. (maybe the only one filmed here? I don't know, this is just what they told us. They wanted us to be excited. It was our main job, besides filling seats in the theater. (sound stage?) (what's that room called?))

Anyway, the night before last, they got confirmation that Bothell's* VERY OWN BLAKE LEWIS would be on the show. [For those of you, like me, who turned off the TV awhile back, he was on American Idol. He did well. But he didn't win.] Apparently the audience manager's phone was "blowing up" all night (with...like...20 calls for tickets!) of people (er...young women) who wanted to see Blake in person.

After Washington's smallest mom (standing at under two feet tall) and an expert panel rating last night's Dancing with the Stars performances, we witnessed a segment staring Blake Lewis pimping his new album. He even did a little beat boxing (at the request of Jenna, a 15-year-old on site with her best friend in matching day-glo yellow puffy paint I heart Blake Lewis t-shirts) with Jenna's name.

I do have to give him props though, because he stuck around after the show and signed autographs and took endless photos with his fans (and the rest of us too). He was funny and kind and patient with the tweens fawning over him AND the older women (and even, maybe that weird lady with a sign**).

* Bothell is a suburb of Seattle, just north of Seattle. It's pronounced Both-el, with the emphasis on the Both, not the ell. For those of you playing along at home, the Boot lives in Bothell, and my dog Roxy goes clubbing with him in and around "downtown Bothell." The Boot wears a top hat and has a cane, and Roxy has panniers that the cats ride in on their way from club to club.

* disclaimer: the sign was real. I made it using the intern's stack of yellow paper on the clipboard she didn't know I had "borrowed" and her big blue permanent marker. But the photo was taken with my cell phone (the ONE day I forgot my camera and I meet a superstar!?!?!) under very harsh studio lighting so it blurred out. A little photoshop business and we're up and running again.

professional once again

2008-04-15T13:34:00.000-07:00

Remember the last time we were professional? I do. (Okay, Jules looked it up. It was waaaaaaaaay back in November of 2006.)

Look back.

Think back.

My hair was shorter. Jules' hair was longer. And since then we've both gotten new suits.

Holler.

Today we held a big annual board meeting. Our chance to shine. And shine we did. Just look at us. See all the shining?

this is me with a new online crafty biz-niz!

2008-04-05T18:32:00.000-07:00

introducing

a new online shop featuring handmade one-of-a-kind baby items (bibs, bonnets, changing pads and more) created out of re-purposed and recycled clothing and fabric.

know a baby? pregnant mum? have a wee one? shop today!

work to do?

2008-04-02T15:19:00.000-07:00

...it's a novel concept...having a job with enough actual WORK to keep you occupied for 40 hours a week (and even more, if they would only let you log some overtime at time and a half).

I'm not naming any names here, but there were a couple people in my office lately (Second Sam and Jules MIGHT have been two of said people, but I'm not going to name names...) who have been BEGGING for more work to do.

People hate being totally bogged down with work, I know. It's stressful sometimes to feel like you'll never make it though the mountain of tasks and tedium that is your day-to-day job. However, given the choice of too much versus too little, I think we'll all pick too much.

Have you ever tried to look busy for eight straight hours? It's EXCRUCIATING. It's harder than the vocabulary portion of the GRE. Harder than figuring out your taxes. Trust me. It sucks your will to live. AND you end up pacing yourself...taking three to four times the normal amount of time to do simple tasks, because you know that if you finish too quickly you'll be left with NOTHING. Just blankness and angst.

But, I digress.

A couple people in the office have recently been reassigned. I, for one, am now a Director. You can call me Director Cupcake. I'll answer. I promise. I now direct myself, and on two Fridays a quarter, the REST OF THE STAFF. It's a lot of responsibility. Oh, and on those Fridays when I'm directing the staff, I have to clean out the refrigerator too. So that's hard.

Second Sam was promoted?--re-hired?--hired differently?--reassigned? to a new job that brings with it a new boss and a new title (a loooong title, mind you), and new work, and mostly a lot of NEWness. Also more. More and new.

And with Second Sam out of the way, Jules was able to apply and strut her stuff into Second Sam's old position, which is all new and new for Jules. Oh, and plus the new is the MORE, since now Jules does the work that she used to do PLUS the work that Second Sam used to do. (look at all that work in the photo! A whole file folder full of luscious work!)

So now everyone is happy! Or stressed! Or, at the very least, BUSY. Working. Which is good, because as I said above, being bored at work but unable (cuz you're at work) to just jam for the day and go play in the sun (or snow, depending...) really blows. HARD. Like, el-nino-type-winds-of-horribleness.

Anyway, I have lots to do too, and now I'm Director Cupcake, so I haven't been as willing to risk getting caught displaying shenanigans in the office in search of the perfect TIMWAS photo. Which is why things have been sparse around here lately. That and the busy. The work. Some of it NEW, but not new in the way that Second Sam and Jules have NEW. For me it's just more of the same NEW.

Today's sign was Sam's idea...from a long time ago...maybe Monday of this week. (Two days is along time ago if you have NOTHING to do at work, and a short time if you do...) She was just so impressed that we all have stuff to do now. But when she mentioned it, well, I was too busy to get out the camera.

Fast-forward to today, when I am working from home, with THOR, my new biggest-sort-of-mobile-computer EVER, on my different newness job. I get to work it from home because it is creating unrestricted funds for us and it's a long story that involves the government and a lot of rules and really boring laws.

Anyway, one or two days a week from now on, Thor and I will be kicking it old skool at my house with the dawgs. They, unlike myself, Jules, and Second Sam, don't really have anything they've got to be doing, except shedding and sleeping and lying in the sun.

I wonder if they find their lives excruciating. probably not, because they don't see me as their BOSS and they don't have to scramble to LOOK BUSY when I come by. They just sleep.

happy spring! let it snow...

2008-03-28T14:28:00.000-07:00

It's snowing here.

Hard.

There's even accumulation.

It's NUTS, I tell you, NUTS. It's officially spring, according to the lunar calendar, and the cherry trees have all blossomed, and the daffodils are out showing off their ruffled noses, and the heather is abloom...I even noticed on my dawg walk yesterday that the tulips were starting to part their lips into a whisper of color.

And now snow. Which is weird. But also cool in that we Seattle-ites freak at the sign of snow and close everything and go home (and get in a LOT of car accidents on the way). Which is where I'm about to go (home, hopefully NOT to a car accident).

So. The pictures are awful, but it's hard to self-photograph with a sign in the snow. (make funny face, aim both high and low enough to see the sign and said face, highlight snow in the parking lot, hold steady, snap photo, don't get caught by coworkers...but my arms aren't long enough to do it all (which is odd, because i have a 6 foot 6 inch wing span...))

so here's the view that SHOULD have been in the background of the photos above...

the shield of cupcakery

2008-03-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

not as cool as you wish it would be, but fun nonetheless.

here's a revamp with Illustrator, complete with double the cupcake love AND bonus sprinkles.

if you're into it, you can make your own here.

staff meeting.

2008-03-20T11:44:00.001-07:00

We have an all-day staff meeting once a month. The meeting is...how shall I put this?...EXCRUCIATING. It's filled with updates about stuff you didn't really need to know or stuff you already knew, as well as trainings on things like stress reduction in the workplace, and other sundry and myopic details of workplace life.

To liven things up, and encourage people to participate, we have an on-going raffle during these meetings. That way, when you show up on time, answer a question, provide positive feedback, or just generally play along, you can get a ticket. The more tickets, the more chances to win. Drawings are held whenever it seems like we need a break, or if it looks like the natives are getting restless and the meeting facilitator starts to feel uneasy about being the target of the ever-building rage of the other 19 employees.

Raffle prizes vary, but only sometimes are they actually something you want--baskets of food or Starbucks gift cards. I even won a VERY RED fleece blanket one day (the same one that was on my lap fuzzing up my corduroys yesterday when I was wearing my Bob Cratchits--a coveted prize considering the sub-zero conditions in which many of us work).

Today, the prizes aren't so great. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love a plastic rubbermaid bin full of swag from vendors that people have brought back from conferences and the random dollar-store crapola tossed in like Minute Rice in soup to make the soup both go farther and seem healthier, but...winning from the bin is a bit lackluster.

Which is why I was so excited when one of my tickets was drawn just moments ago--and I got to choose my very own prize from the rubbermaid bin of atrocious plastic logoed items and syrupy sweet dollar store kindergarten classroom supplies...and I got this sweet holographic pin. It's large, it's shiny, and it has those sweet yellow happy faces on it.

BEHOLD: the winning ticket.

Bah humbug.

2008-03-19T10:43:00.001-07:00

What's up with the HVAC? Why can we put a man on the moon but not heat an office building properly?

I'm blaming the sun. It's one of the first few sunny days of spring here in the rainy northwest, and I think the thermostat felt the warmth offered by the sun and turned itself off. Which is fine for the lucky few that have a WINDOW through which the sun can warm their desks. But back in my storage cabinet-cum-office, there is no mind-thawing warmth offered by that glowing orb of which we Seattlites have forgotten the name during these past long, gray winter months.

Luckily, I have mad knitting skills. Gangsta knitting skillz. I knit myself a pair of fingerless gloves way back when...and they travel with me around from office to office to this day.

The entire time I was knitting them, Joe was calling them my Bob Cratchits. And there it was.

We both grew up on Gutherie Theater renditions of A Christmas Carol where Bob Cratchit wore tattered clothing and fingerless gloves, which he constantly rubbed together for warmth. An accountant can't wear mittons or gloves in the office, how would he operate the adding machine with that sweet hand crank?

Bob himself. Or a reasonable fascimilie thereof. Note the characteristic "poor man's" handwarmers.

Note that I also have my space heater at full blast on my feet. And a red fleece blanket on my lap. And a cup of steaming coffee to warm my insides. I'll let you know when I thaw out enough to get some real work done.

close up. to show off the cabling and my gangsta knitta skillz.

Gifts from the railyard

2008-03-17T10:48:00.000-07:00

I was at home puking. But Joe was out taking photos of the rail yard. He brought me these gifts:

of course.

in case you missed it, this is how it looked.

the hobos (do we even use that term any more?) use chalk to tell each other where they are, what lines they're riding, and apparently, to advertise tours.

cupcake love

simile in action

And this one from the underpass by the art supply store:

super sweet monster love.

because the old one was just too...old

2008-03-12T09:48:00.000-07:00

(This courtesy of my trip to Washington DC, for a conference, at which Newt delivered keynote speech number two of three.)

(Photo taken with my all-too-sweet pocket pc--which, around these parts, gets call the "tiny computer" cuz that's exactly what it is.)

Guest sign contribution: Cupcake's parents

2008-03-04T20:30:00.000-08:00

Can you believe it? I've so infected the world with my love for weird signs that even my parents are playing along.

They recently went to Mexico and came back with these three gems:

This is a good one, not only because it includes one of my favorite kinds of signage (the NO kind --with the big X or the red circle and slash). This one says NO LOTION. Or maybe, NO TRIAL SIZED PRODUCTS. Or...NO POCKET MAGNIFIERS.

It also includes a YES portion, which is almost as good as a NO. YES TO T-SHIRTS. (especially white ones.)

And then, as a happy finale, it uses the English language poorly with its: Help keeping our lagoon clean! (And, dear reader, is that a bullet point next to this phrase? Is this a prehistoric powerpoint of a sign?)

Sign Two:
This is a great one because it would seem as though those crazy Mexicans are doing that one thing that we still can't seem to do even though it makes SO MUCH SENSE: compost. It's also awesome because even if we're disposing of detritus that is either inorganico or organico...

cigarette butts are welcome at either location.

And lastly, won't you participate in our Discover snorkeling Program?

This is great for two reasons as well (plus a bonus LOOK AT ALL THOSE FISH reason).

Firstly, it is reminiscent of the (bad old) days when Cupcake was pursuing her bachelor's degree in English literature and she had the pleasure of reading Olde English and other partially unintelligible dialects of yore. This was when she learned that it was okay, and in fact, encouraged that authors Capitalize words they wished to Emphasize. And, dear readers, I am here to State that I am Fond of Random and pointless Capitalization.

Secondly, won't you let us introduce you to the snorkeling tecnique with ease?

You Should. Not only is it Ease-ful, it is the technicallistic snorkeling tecnique there is to be Found.

Plus, look at all those Fish.

Another day...

2008-02-15T15:32:00.000-08:00

I have a really big white board in my office. (Yes, that's the office with a DOOR.) Sometimes I'm not in my office, and people leave me little messages. Here's one Tash left...which makes me laugh every time I read it:

Also, sometimes we use the huge white board to map out things we're working on...graphical things. Occassionally people will draw things to show me what they want me to make...say, a tri-fold brochure with certain information and photos on the different pieces of the folding.

Once, I had to make an ad for an event that we're having to promote the construction trades to youngsters. I asked Jules to help, cuz she has some stellar ideas sometimes. Here's what she mapped out for me:

Note the super sweet drawing of the hammer (left) and the saw (right). I thought it looked like a crown, perhaps, and that we might be crowning, say, a Construction King at the event, but NO, said Jules, that's a saw.

Happy VD!

2008-02-14T16:48:00.000-08:00

In case you live under a rock, it’s Valentine’s Day. I, dear readers, am frankly over it. I’m over an arbitrary day of spending money on pink and red things I don’t want. Which is to say, my dh has been so sick for the last week (like, night of the living dead sick) that we’re not going out for a fancy meal because his taste buds are still screwy.

Which is to say, if I can’t have a fancy meal, then I don’t want any of it.

However, VD brings with it some pretty great things. Like inter-office cupcakes, crafted and brought in by Nancy. And roses from Scott. And dark chocolate bars, GODIVA no less, from Carl.*

Carl’s chocolate bars came with a sign saying, “happy v.d.” which makes one immediately think of venereal disease, which is not a happy thing indeed. (This ultimately led to the joke about the difference between love and herpes…the difference being that one doesn’t last forever.)

Tash refused to eat her chocolate because of the VD reference, which means I now have TWO dark chocolate bars in my desk drawer for a rainy day. Her email said...

Um are you guys going to throw away your chocolate from Curtis because it has a note attached that reads, “Happy V.D.” This not make me think of “Valentine’s Day” as much as it suggests to me “Happy Venereal Disease.” If any of you would like my VD treat, you may take it from my desk.

Also, I wore my pink shoes and my matching pink scarf...because when else can you get away with wearing pink suede wallabees to work?

*NONE of these is a real name. Which is to say, they are real names…but they’re pseudonyms…not the real names of the people involved.

Helpful hints...

2008-02-01T15:58:00.000-08:00

...for firefighters.
I attended a meeting at a small Fire Department today, who so graciously allowed us to use their meeting room for no fee for a community event to which only one person came. No big deal. I didn't mind driving an hour out of my way at 7am today to assist at the one-person event.

The best part of the morning (for me) was the white boards full of helpful firefighter-in-training information.

Number three struck me as important, since it was on the subject of MUTINY. One should, apparently, EXPECT mutiny.

However, the most important piece of advice comes at the very bottom of the white board. In all the chaos...

don't forget the fire.

either way, do it hard (please)

2008-01-28T11:39:00.000-08:00

as seen at one of my favorite brunch spots (okay, they call it blunch, and they serve it until 3pm DAILY), endolyne joe's in west seattle.

And by the way weird mean guy at the restaurant, when you see me taking a photo of the little sign above the door, don't give me a mean look. I'm not hurting anyone or anything. Plus, I opened the door for you.

Cupcake joins the big kid club! (or, the longest TIMWAS post to date)

2008-01-24T14:46:00.000-08:00

Cupcake is officially 30. In the big kids club. Heading up the hill. That kind of thing.

To celebrate, her lovely husband threw her a party at the best restaurant in Seattle, complete with friends and (of course) cupcakes.

Check me out with my cupcakes and sign. (Joe ordered the cupcakes AND made the sign cuz he loves me enough to play along.)

This is cupcake's best friend, P. You don't see P in TIMWAS much because she lives in Minnesota. There are not as many signs in Minnesota, as near as I can tell. P loves me so much that she came out to Seattle JUST for my big kid party. That's love.

This is Pat, P's girlfriend/partner. She's real fun too. She also came for my big kid party all the way from Minnesota, land of 10,000 lakes, but many many fewer signs.

Other stars in attendance include:

Jeanne: Best Sculptor

Aaron, Elise, & Piper: Best foodie and social justice friends

Michael & K-dawg: best open mouth/best own-head pointing

K-dawg: best poseur & mother to cute cute Jackson
remember this?

Jackson: best giraffe (also, cute cute)

Paul & Bill: Best domino-playing neighbors

Jasmine & Inderjeet: cutest daughter/best acupuncturist

Todd: best husband of Inderjeet (see above). also, damn good deck builder.

Tash & Mo: best use of last night's hair and makeup

Jules: cutest office-mate

Mr. Wendell: Best neighbor EVER

Danielle: best free therapist, and mother to cutest 2 year old

Mila: cutest 2 year old (she's only pretending to pout. secretly she loves her some TIMWAS)

First Sam: Best stand in Aunt

Orin: best red-headed stepchild

best bar sign ever

yummiest desserts

this just in...from the North slope

2008-01-22T14:16:00.000-08:00

So my brother-in-law works on the north slope. The north slope is where we drill for oil. It's really far north (thus the name) and it's also, therefore, really cold.

A quick wikipedia search reveals this:

Within the North Slope, only a surface "active layer" of the tundra thaws each season; most of the soil is permanently frozen year-round. On top of this permafrost, water flows to sea via shallow, braided streams or settles into pools and ponds.

Apparently they have some pretty great signs. Here's the first in what I hope to be a regular feature on TIMWAS...the North Slope Sign.

My sister asked her husband why the sign was necessary and his response was "because I work with a bunch of Children!"

Today we learn how to use the bathroom properly.

Lesson 1: Bring your newspaper with you? Take it when you go!

Lesson 2: Flush

When I first read the signs, I thought to myself, Good god...this thing flushes while you use it! That could be both scary and dangerous.

So I had to email my sister...

this is terrific...but I'm going to need more information about the toilets. they operate "during" your "going?"

to which she replied...

No, no. They operate just like any other toilet you've used. The sign is a reminder to flush. Like Jeff said, children.

But I'm still not convinced. Wouldn't a sign that says "don't forget to flush" be a little more expedient? What's with all the verbiage about how the "fixture" (not toilet, mind you) is "safe"? Are there fixtures up there that aren't "safe"? That might, say, blow a hole in the roof of the bathroom when flushed? (This could be a serious problem, given that the high last week was around negative 30 degrees Fahrenheit.)

Don't worry, dear reader, because I have just sent my sister an email positing this very question. I believe that she will respond post-haste. Stay tuned, dear reader...for more on this important "fixture" safety question.

paying it forward...

2008-01-18T15:21:00.000-08:00

Since Chet* fufilled my TIMWAS wish (see below and below-er), I thought I should pay forward the wish granting and therefore made Jules some gluten and dairy-free cupcakes. (And they were actually GOOD.) She was thrilled.

Then Tash said, OH NO, I should have made a sign that said "Make me a super model."

*oh no you don't. no real names here.

it worked!

2008-01-15T17:09:00.001-08:00

Someone in my office (we'll call him Chet) saw my plea (see below) and left me this! HOORAY.

It's just like my father always said, if you don't ask, the answer is no.

Make me

2008-01-14T17:24:00.000-08:00

You know that Zen Buddhist joke about the monk and the hot dog stand? You know the one…

What did the monk say to the hot dog vendor?

Make me one with everything.

A similar, but completely different, incident happened in our office today.

Remember when we used to share an office with Poodle Inc.? Remember the reference to the hideous and insulting FREE table? (if not, click here.) Well, it turns out that all offices develop a free table, usually where leftover food is placed (say, muffins and tiny but scrumptious two-bite scones) after a meeting filled with people on Weight Watchers™ who don’t eat the free food. (I am not one of those people. I love free food. Especially those tiny but scrumptious two-bite scones. They’re like little triangles of lovin’. But I digress.) The free table in our kitchen is round. It’s hard to sit at that table because it’s filled with food you probably don’t want to eat if you have any diet restrictions (say, a gluten intolerance) and/or are on a diet (like Weight Watchers™) or you want to continue to fit into your work pants.

There’s also a long rectangular table in our kitchen (it’s actually two shorter rectangular tables that have been stuck together so that there is a wide space in the middle where no one can sit because of the ludicrous jumble of table legs below the conjoined tables). Apparently on this table, we can SELL things.

Here’s what we found today.

It made me laugh all day. No one wants to buy your travel mugs. Oh, and by the way: This is not a garage sale. It’s a kitchen. A place to get coffee, heat up leftovers,

I spent every moment thinking about what I would like someone to make me…and went for the following.

And then Jules played too. (She’s one of those aforementioned gluten intolerant people, in case you couldn’t tell.)

This just in...

2008-01-14T08:52:00.000-08:00

A submission from my brother-in-law...a bird defying the law.

(Which begs the question, dear reader, just what are they trying to stop with this sign? Birds don't read signs, and if they did, they aren't governed by the laws that we humans have to follow...or at the very least they don't KNOW that they have to follow certain laws and we as humans would therefore have a tough time convicting a bird with any kind of half-decent lawyer on a law it doesn't understand. But, I guess we're relying on the fact that birds typically don't have lawyers and long before any such trial would happen someone would just A) poison the bird or B) shoot it. That's life on the food chain, my dear.)

The photo does remind me of one that I took of my dog next to a "no dogs" sign at Rainier National Park (I'm sorry...no dogs in a PARK? Is it just me or are parks FOR dogs?). I'm going to have to dig that up and post it with this one.

we do such important work here...

2008-01-10T08:55:00.000-08:00

Today Tash was wondering around looking for her boss, who we'll call Scarlet*, because she had a scheduled meeting with her. My office is near to Scarlet's, so Tash stopped by and asked if I had seen her around.

I hadn't, though I had HEARD** her. She was no where to be found.

I then did what any helpful coworker will do for you if you're on the opposite end of the building from your computer and need to find out schedule information for a coworker...I opened my Outlook calendar for the day and clicked open Scarlet's calendar to see what it says about where she was supposed to be (or where she had been earlier, etc.)

And maybe this won't strike you funny, but it really did me. Where was Scarlet supposed to be at that moment? What was she supposed to be doing? Ending homelessness with Tash.

That's right...see for yourself: (you'll probably have to click to enlarge this one, but I've added a helpful red starry outline to direct your eye to the proper location.)

Tash waits another ten minutes and then retreats back to her cube located far in the nether regions (or bowels, as it were) of the office building.

She sends this email to Scarlet: Just so you know, if I see any homeless people on my way home from work it will be YOUR fault that they don't have shelter...because you missed the meeting where we were going to end homelessness forever.

*Scarlet, though not her real name, might be a fitting name for this particular person. She's old-skool fashion forward, like Greta Garbo.

** Through perhaps no fault of her own (but nevertheless without attempting to self-remedy) Scarlet's voice is LOUD. It carries. And you can hear her for miles. Which is great if you're trying to steer clear of or find her, but not so great if you're trying to work and don't want verbal distraction.

Happy New Year! And if you get a DUI...

2008-01-02T11:29:00.000-08:00

New Year's Day Brunch: Creepiest Sweatshirt EVER.

Can you read it? Click on it. It will get bigger. Still can't read it? Let me elucidate:

Dance as if no one
was watching,
Sing as if no one
was listening,
Call BARBARA BOWDEN
if you get a DUI,
And live every day
as if it were your last.

I can't think of a more uplifting New Year's sentiment. I only wish I had been able to sport this TIMWAS Sign/Sweatshirt myself instead of taking a flash-less unassuming photograph of this poor girl (probably Barbara Bowden's daughter) while she was eating her New Years Day hotcakes.

Happy Holidayz

2007-12-18T16:29:00.001-08:00

Some offices spring for parties that happen at night, with catered food and live entertainment. Some whisk their staff away to the local ski resort and pay for everyone to spend the night and ski for two days and have an open bar shin dig (yes, I know a guy who gets to do this).

Then there’s my office. I work for a non-profit. We have potlucks and “Secret Snowflake” unveiling and ugly sweater contests.

I didn’t play the ugly sweater contest game. Something about paying money to look bad. Or something about being really busy at night with all that present making. (See last post.)

However, Tash donated her jingly necklace to me. I wore it as long as I could, but it was freaking me out that I jingled with every step.

Not real incognito, ya’ll.

Regardless, Tash and Jules hit the head on the nail with their holiday cheer.

There are two photos of them, mostly because their sweaters have so much detail that needs to be highlighted. The dual shot just wasn't going to cut it.

Note that Jules’s sweater is the sweater that just keeps giving.

All the way onto the back.

And Tash was pleased to show off her sweater, complete with shoulder pads…

and its own personal sign.

You can press it. But nothing happens, except maybe Tash hits you. I’m not sure. I haven’t tried.

Jules is pressing it in this photo…but it was staged. So no one got hit. At least not while I was there.

Also, notice that Tash has the best red boots on ever. EVER.

OH! And you'll want to note that in my photo you can see my lamp-that-doesn't-work-cum-coathanger in the background. My office is really dark in one corner, because it used to be half an office and half a storage room and when they reconfigured they didn't think AT ALL about lighting it. I took a stand-up lamp from the old office but was sad to learn that it actually doesn't work. I mean, it works sometimes. But the switch is bad, and so the best way to turn it on and off is to just unplug it (assuming you can get it to stay in the "on" position) except that there's only one outlet in my office too (see reconfiguring issues, above) and I already have three power strips and an extension cord running and basically turning on and off the lamp means getting underneath my desk on all fours.

I just don't care about light that much. If that means that I'm lazy, so be it.

Plus, the lamp makes such a nice coat rack. People comment on it every day. They are just jealous. JEALOUS of my fabulous storage room/lightless/powerless/fire hazard office.

Charles in Charge...

2007-12-17T16:44:00.000-08:00

There is a hierarchy here at the office. There is the president, and then five directors, and then…ME.

Oh yes, the one and only Cupcake is 7^th on the list of who’s most important.*

This hierarchy was created so that when someone is out of the office there is always a clear delineation of who’s in charge should something serious happen.**

This hierarchy is based on status (president, director, manager, plebe) and seniority (who’s been here the longest). This means that of the managers, I’ve been here the longest. 3.5 years. A personal record of job longevity for myself, I might add.

So today the President & the Directors had their weekly meeting at a restaurant. I’m assuming that the Pres took her team out for a holiday thank you luncheon.

[She’s taking me out tomorrow. That’s because I’m not a director, but I’m the only manager who reports directly to her. (That’s also why, depending on who you ask, I got the office with the door.)]

So I was in charge today for about two and a half hours. Though one guy kept trying to dupe me into thinking that something serious was happening in the back of the office, I know him to be a tireless faker, and didn’t take the bait.

I did, however, take the time to make a sign which Jules and I held up. In the photos you’ll see that I’m sure it’s me who’s in charge.

Jules? Well, she’s not too clear.

*And by important, I mean…blameable.

**Serious things may include: earthquakes, flooding, and the press showing up trying to catch us doing something stupid. (Actually I made these up. We’re not running an ICU here, people, there really are very few things that could possible happen that couldn’t wait until tomorrow.)

Holiday Cheer at the Office

2007-12-13T15:16:00.000-08:00

It's slim here. Or, at least, it's slim in my heart this year. I’m no Grinch, but I’m having a hard time getting into the holiday spirit.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m MILKING the gingerbread lattes at Starbucks (they have nutmeg on them!) and participating in EATING all the cookies people are bringing in, but I haven’t decorated and I haven’t shopped.

You haven’t shopped? GASP, says you.

It’s true. This year my dear husband and I have gone into business making all of our own Christmas presents. I can’t tell you how FREEING it feels to not have to play the holiday mall game or the Internet shipping game, or the “read the catalogs till I find something my dad actually WANTS” game. I recycle all the catalogs before I even read them (except Anthropologies’, because it’s gorgeous and to me it’s like looking at a picture book).

But making all your presents is stressful in its own right. It’s not that whole “I’m going to punch you if your kid complains about this line one more time” kind of stressful, nor the “if you don’t move your effing car out of that parking space in the next seven seconds I’m going to ram it out!” way. It’s more like the perfectionist way that takes over and tells me that no one is ever going to even LIKE their homemade presents. That if I just re-do it all ONE MORE TIME then it will look professional and worthy.

So, to increase the dullness of this long story… Christy sent me an email earlier this week with attached TIMWAS ready photography and the inspiration for this post. She writes:

I would like a special TIMWAS post about holiday decor. "This is me in my holiday cheer office!!! Decorating for the holidays is very important as it distracts you from work and makes you want to leave early and enjoy the holiday season everyday. Check out the awesome hallway. This is in dedication to Starbucks' slogan of 'pass the cheer' this year." I want to see your holiday decor!

In an effort to share the décor cheer without getting caught, the three of us couldn’t just take photos in front of the office Christmas tree/mini-stocking/holiday card display up front. No, we had to find our own secretive cheer. (Note that all above photos were sent in by Christy. She's quite the long distance contributor!)

Tash wins for creativity.

Jules wins for local flair. (The little bear is wearing a Seahawks hat. Ask Jules about the Hawks, cuz she knows stuff.)

I win for most creative ornament made during the really boring staff meeting.

And really, when we “pass the cheer*” WE ALL WIN.

*Last week at Starbucks they screwed up Jules’ order so she got a free drink coupon. I whined that I wanted a free drink coupon and instead they gave me a “pass the cheer” buy one get one free coupon. Hurrah! Said I.

I will pass the cheer onto Jules.

I will buy my grande, nonfat, with whip gingerbread latte and then pass the cheer with a free grande decaf pumpkin spice Americano with room and an inch of cold soy milk to Jules. So I did. This morning. And the silly girl who keyed in the pass the cheer coupon congratulated me for buying a drink for Jules (I bought nothing. Jules’ drink was free).

But then, and this is the BEST PART, she handed the coupon back to me. Which means that I can pass the cheer again. And also, I’m pretty sure that she was supposed to keep the coupon in her drawer to account for the coupon code she entered into her machine when she does her drawer reconciliation at the end of her shift. But whatever. I’m not here to tell a girl how to do her job.

I’m just here to pass the cheer.

WBP: Arizona

2007-12-11T16:32:00.000-08:00

Sadly, Joe's grandfather passed away last week. This caused a trip to Arizona, land of the cactus and some pretty brilliant signage.

Mostly this hand written sign at the Sea-Tac airport, right as the jet way hits the airplane. (Yes, the guy standing behind me did find it odd that I was photographing the poor penmanship, and yes, I didn't care.) I thought it had a great message for all future jet way drivers:

(Sorry about the flash burn in the corner, this was TRUE WBP...I had only seconds to get out the camera and take a photo before some over-zealous TSA groupie came and confiscated my property under the guise of the Patriot Act or some other piece of Federal legislation enacted to confiscate my rights..er...protect me from terrorism.)

And then, at the Heard Museum, there were these two elegant signs regarding the birds that thrive on crumbs left by unsuspecting toddlers eating their animal crackers between gallery jaunts. Apparently there was, at one time, some issue with the birds receiving too many crumbs, or perhaps, actual donations of crusts and vittles, which the museum curators and docents disliked.

One special thing to note here on these painstakingly, if not beautifully, painted signs: it's not "Don't feed the birds," it's "Dont feed LE birds." Apparently all birds visiting the Heard Museum are French in origin. This seems strange in Arizona. Apropos in Louisiana perhaps, but a bit strange in Arizona.

MYOS TIMWAS

2007-11-27T15:55:00.000-08:00

In this new building, I sit up front. People can tell when I’m screwing around. Even though Bruce Mau says in his Incomplete Manifesto for Growth that we creative types need to be able to play…others still don’t see it that way. They see play as interruption, as work stopping, instead of what it is: creative energy pushing work to its ultimate potential.

Today was Make Your Own Sign day at TIMWAS. This, like a Choose Your Own Adventure TIMWAS, allows for creativity and audience participation. It’s also pretty stealth, because you make your own sign and then are charged with taking your own photo and emailing it to me, your TIMWAS author and Cupcake At Large. However, I was trying desperately to take my own photo and I just couldn’t get the sign and my face in. Tash caught me under my desk attempting the seemingly impossible, and she came in and helped a cupcake out.

Then I took Tash’s photo. It’s a symbiotic relationship that way.

I mentioned Bruce Mau earlier in this post, and if you’ve been reading the sister blog to TIMWAS, Dreambird Designs, you’ll know all about him. If not, skedaddle on over to that blog and check it all out.

Go on, we’ll wait.

Back? Okay good. Cuz Second Sam's MYOS refers to number 40. It even has a drawing illustrating the applicable instruction. Go Second Sam, I say, GO. Way to break from the norm of the TIMWAS sign and add illustration. Good work.
Also, my sign is a little tribute to the work I do everyday to make it palatable to be here. Over at Dreambird you'll see that's my "artist in the office" section, which is currently filled with the doodles I draw during meetings and conference calls. TIMWAS is another part of being the artist in the office. I'm hiding under my desk so I don't get caught.

PLUS, being under your desk is a good way to get a new perspective. When I used to work as the Assistant Managing Editor of a literary website (ahh, the bad old days...) I would often print out stories and then move to the conference table at the other end of the office to edit them. This would break me out of my in-front-of-the-computer mold and stir up some of those stagnant parts of my brain.

Tash likes to pose. She made her sign, and then wanted me to take about 50 frames of her like she’s a super model. Some day I’ll rent fancy photographer lights and construct a Top Model set and we’ll take pictures for reals, ya’ll. But until then, here’s Tash’s best shot.*

*My not so secret vice is the religious viewing of America’s Next Top Model (hosted by Tyra Banks). We’re on season 8 ya’ll, and they’ve all been delicious.

WBP: Capital Hill

2007-11-15T14:55:00.000-08:00

You know how everyone says Capital Hill on the news, but what they mean is the REAL capital hill in Washington DC? Well I live in the other Washington (some might even say the better Washington) and we have our own Capital Hill. It's weird though, because there's no Capital there. I mean, the Capital of Washington is Olympia, which is no where near the Capital Hill. And the capital of Seattle is...wait. There isn't one. Or maybe there is. Maybe it's the hill.

Regardless, our Capital Hill is where the freaks live. And the gays. And the hipsters*. (It turns out that many hipsters, according to Urban Dictionary, ARE gay.) So there it is.

Capital Hill also has the best graffitti in Seattle...the most sign stickers and weirdness. These are just three small ones we found from the short walk across the street from our parked car to get a gyro. Capital Hill also has good food, a great bar scene, and the best art store in town. Oh, and crepes. Which I love.

* I mentioned hipsters to my sister the other week, when I was visiting, and she didn't know the definition. I rambled on and on trying to describe them. Then she said, "We don't have hipsters here. We only have Alaskans." Which is true.

The urban dictionary definition reads:

Hipster
\hip-stur\n Listens to bands that you have never heard of. Has hairstyle that can only be described as "complicated." (Most likely achieved by a minimum of one week not washing it.) Probably tattooed. Maybe gay. Definitely cooler than you. Reads Black Book, Nylon, and the Styles section of the New York Times. Drinks Pabst Blue Ribbon. Often. Complains. Always denies being a hipster. Hates the word. Probably living off parents money - and spends a great deal of it to look like they don't have any. Has friends and/or self cut hair. Dyes it frequently (black, white-blonde, etc. and until scalp bleeds). Has a closet full of clothing but usually wears same three things OVER AND OVER (most likely very tight black pants, scarf, and ironic tee-shirt). Chips off nail polish artfully after $50 manicure. Sleeps with everyone and talks about it at great volume in crowded coffee shops. Addicted to coffee, cigarettes (Parliaments, Kamel Reds, Lucky Strikes, etc.), and possibly cocaine. Claims to be in a band. Rehearsals consist of choosing outfits for next show and drinking PBR. Always on the list. Majors or majored in art, writing, or queer studies. Name-drops. May go by "Penny Lane," "Eleanor Rigby," etc. when drunk. On PBR. Which is usually.

Where did everyone go?

2007-11-15T14:49:00.000-08:00

Where did everyone go?

A guest commentary by Jules and Tash.

Jules: Ever wonder, am I the only one working today? I mean I get that I’ve been out of the office since last Thursday, but I was expecting a few others to be around today….

Tash: This must give me direct permission to goof* off for the rest of the day.

*Tash is a fan of the swearing, but being respectful of those with delicate eyes reading, goof will be used to replace the original term used by Tash.

Jules: Dude we aren’t as funny as Heather.

Tash: I know. I like us though…and I’m really angry that Heather isn’t here to fix my shoe, have you seen my silly** shoe? I was hoping for some of Heather’s glue gun magic.

**Again with the swearing…

Cupcake commentary follows:

Um, I was at a meeting. Viewing my Microsoft Outlook (r) shared calendar would have notified you of that. Also, Tash doesn't really look like she's wondering where everyone is so much. She's more like posing with a question mark hand-position. Also, I took the hot glue gun home.

Choose your own adventure TIMWAS

2007-11-05T14:56:00.000-08:00

Those of you who are long-time TIMWAS fans will remember the Coffee Connoisseur’s Club (CCC) and the sticky-note information provided by members therein to other select members. If you don’t remember, click here for some super exciting TIMWAS flashback time. If you do remember, continue reading.

Since we moved out of the old building and into the new building, the company (Buffy Inc) started buying its own coffee (and not relying on the service of Poodle Inc.’s coffee providing company.) Our coffee is pretty good. It’s not amazing, but it’s so so SO much better than the coffee that Poodle Inc. used to buy. Since it’s now decent coffee, the CCC was disbanded.

(Also, the CCC leader, Clint* no longer works here. And he took his coffee grinder with him when he left.)

However, the old rules of the sticky note (date and time brewed) have prevailed. Usually the sticky note says something benign like “11/1/07 8am.” This is not photograph-worthy.

But today, dear readers, it said this:

Which is so funny, mostly because it provides almost no information while pretending to. I like that in a sign.

Anyway, when I was about to author today’s TIMWAS sign, I asked for suggestions from fellow TIMWAS players Jules and Sam, and we all had different ideas. So today I present: Choose your own adventure TIMWAS. Facilitated by that ever-terrific blank line.

This is me drinking recent coffee.

It’s not that recent though, because I had to nuke it to make it hot enough to bother drinking.

This is Jules taking a personal call at work.

Look at those feet up!

This is Tash being incognito.

Or famous. Or hungover. Or something involving sunglasses.

This is Second Sam agreeing with this Married to the Sea cartoon she printed out.

Cuz that’s how she rolls.

(FCC warning: don't click to read if you don't like the swears.)

* Protecting the innocence of Clint by changing his name. This is a service provided by TIMWAS even AFTER you no longer work for Buffy Inc. That's how seriously this here blog takes security, homeland and otherwise.

Boo-rito re -dux

2007-10-31T16:02:00.000-07:00

I'm on the Chipotle email list. I got an email about a week ago telling me that Chipotle is doing their Boo-rito Halloween promotion again this year. Dress like a burrito and get a free one.
So we did. You'll remember this game from last year (click here for easier remembering), except that last year's boo-ritos were made in the FUN office, and this year's boo-ritos were made in the don't have any fun that makes any noise or you'll get in trouble office.

So we very quietly wrapped ourselves in tin foil (procured in earnest from the Dollar Spot) and headed out to eat. You'll note that all boo-rito wrapping took place in a very small (and crowded) conference room in which nothing is ever scheduled. (Hmmm...i wonder why no one uses it? Could it be the hundreds of stacked chairs?) We then tip-toed out to Chipotle for free lunch.

I love free lunch.

And I love wearing tin foil. You can't breathe or move around much, but it insulates REALLY well (I guess that's why they wrap the burritos in it, eh?) and even in the foggy drizzle I was sweating up a storm on my way to the Chipotle. It's like an emergency blanket, but without the blanket part. It's the poor ladies emergency blanket.

Also, while I was at Dollar Update (I actually have NO idea which dollar store I was at, so it's fun to keep speculating AND showing off how many names of dollar store chains I know), a woman came in looking for:

1) flashlights
2) hand warmers

Because, as she explained, she was going trick-or-treating tonight with the kids and was looking for supplies. Hand warmers? What kind of whiney west coast kids are these?

I'm from MINNESOTA. There's usually SNOW on Halloween, and i never had the luxury of hand warmers. And even though I was supposed to, I didn't even wear mittens OR boots.

[Except there was that one year where we had a blizzard and got like four feet of snow in a period of hours. That year my best pal Lissa and I dressed up as skiiers. Oh yes. We bundled up in all the winter gear we could get our hands on, grabbed some cross country ski poles, and got us some candy.] But the point is this: EVEN THEN WE DIDN'T HAVE HAND WARMERS.

A couple notes on the photos:

1. Second Sam is actually dressed as some crazy 80s girl for her halloween costume, which is why she's sporting that super sweet hair do and the Genera hypercolor t-shirt.

2. We're all different meat choices. Tash doesn't actually eat pork (carnitas), but we needed some variety.

3. The picture of me isn't flattering. However, in an attempt not to take too long of a break or get caught having fun, we clicked and ran with the photos. All in the name of TIMWAS ya'll.

Plagerism: WBP

2007-10-31T10:49:00.000-07:00

OMG...what if this was truly possible? I have always said (and will continue to say) EVERYTHING is better with bacon.

I know it's probably not the coolest to steal content from other people's blogs...but this was too funny not to share. Plus, I'll give a shout-out to its original poster, Steve, from The Sneeze, who has a blog I read. (so a shout-out is like citation, but in the blogosphere, right?)

Steve introduced me to Cloud Cult and Steve's sense of humor was produced in the same factory as mine was (on machinery that also produces soy and tree nuts.)

WBP: Bainbridge Island and the city of Seattle

2007-10-29T10:35:00.000-07:00

Seriously. Think before you trash the place.
WBP: Bainbridge Island Ferry Terminal latte stand.

This here pole welcomes you to the island.
WBP: Bainbridge Island.

OUCH. Touching harms the art.
WBP: Olympic Sculpture Park

Yoda rocks.
WBP: Parking sign. Lake Union.

Ha! So clever! I heart dingies.
WBP: Lake Union.

If only we all were.
WBP: Lake Union Center for Wooden Boats

CAUTION: fun in the office II

2007-10-25T16:26:00.000-07:00

The results are in. None of us won. But we did have a great showing.

I knit my pumpkin a sweater, because I am that kind of girl. Look how cute the ribbing is around the stem. Awwww.

Its title (give it up for alliteration, folks) was "Squash in a Sweater."
Jules's creation was titled "Halloween Bowl."

Look how cute Jules is today. Know why she's extra cute? It's her birthday.

Tash had help with the painting. You'll remember her son, who loves him a shark. She added the photo of "Shark Boy" as well as some cut-out paper sharks. Good stuff, ya'll.

And though Second Sam wasn't here for the sticky-note claiming photo day, I have to include her super sweet BOO-dha.

And the surprising part? It actually WAS fun to see everyone's contributions. We voted, and there were prizes, and it didn't SUCK. Amazing, eh?

CAUTION: fun in the office

2007-10-23T16:20:00.000-07:00

We're having an inter-office pumpkin decorating contest. There will be voting and prizes for the winners. When I got in this morning the front desk was covered in smallish pumpkins. Then an email went out announcing the contest and the rules and telling people to go Pick a Pumpkin. (Select a squash?)

I guess the days of no fun allowed at the office are over. (remember this?)

I'm actually pretty leery of the new employee morale. I'm participating so that I don't get in trouble, not because I expect it to be fun. I'm also trying hard not to be Debbie Downer. No one likes her. Not even me.

But the thing is, we get in trouble when we make our own fun. We get in trouble for laughing too loudly. There are elements in this office who don't like fun. Who are intimidated by fun. And then there are those of us who happen to make fun wherever we go. We just do. It's who we are. We bring the party. (remember how we bring the party?)*

Anyway, Tash decided that instead of grabbing her pumpkin and taking it back to her cube, it would be funnier to claim it with a post-it note (sign) announcing that it had been spoken for.

This led to Jule's adding a sign** to her pumpkin as well, even though it was perched on her desk like so many mason jars of free pens and highlighters.

I will admit that my sign*** is completely artificial and drawn up in response to the signs already created by Tash and Jules.

Also, for future reference, here are the rules:

1. Pick out your Pumpkin at the front counter (there is enough for 1 pumpkin per person)

2. Get creative and decorate your pumpkin …… BUT remember:

* Pumpkins may not be carved or hollowed out (we don’t want any cut fingers or rotting veggies)

*Objects, paper and materials of any kind MAY BE pinned or glued to pumpkins.

*Participants may also draw or paint on their entries, cut designs into their surfaces or dress them up.

*Entry must have a title

3. Bring your decorated pumpkin to the staff Meeting. Voting will occur during the Potluck

*This is starting to feel like one of those REALLY lame "flashback" reminiscence episodes of your favorite sit com.

** So. I'm not sure where it came from, but there are a lot of sentences that end in the word please around here. Examples: "Thank you please." "You're welcome please." "Good morning please."

***Added to the please language was the man voice. This is the lowest voice you can muster. It's also a bit monotone. Look back at the ** and repeat those please-ended sentences using the lowest most monotonous voice you can. Now do this all while doing the robot. That's it. Put those arms at 90 degrees and move around like you're made of tin. Good.

It's hard to explain, but it's great. However, in our digital age, it's hard to transmit the information that you are actually DOING the robot when text messaging and instant messaging. That is where the note [robot]**** comes in.

Here's a typical text message thanking someone for information or well wishes...

Thank u please.
[robot]

Feel free to try this at home. It really will change your life.

****Actually, robot is always typed surrounded by the sideways carrot/alligator/more-than/less-than symbols. These are, as you will know if you are html savvy, symbols used to separate "paragraphs" of html coding. Therefore, when I type the word "robot" with the carrot/alligator/more-than/less-than symbols...blogger deletes both the carrot/alligator/more-than/less-than symbols AND the word robot in between. Thus, you will have to imagine how it looks on your tiny phone screen. Also, you can use my sign for reference.

Also, stay tuned for photos of the decorated pumpkins. We'll also let you know who wins.

Guest Sign Maker: pump-kin.

2007-10-22T17:50:00.000-07:00

We had the BYOP party last night. It was a spooky-ooky good time. Good friends, cute kids, great food (if I do say so myself), and pumpkin-tastic carving of all sorts.

I have a new TIMWAS fan, my friend Aaron, and after carving his Japanese domo-arigato-mr.-roboto-inspired o-lantern, he drew up the above sign (using the pre-carving pumpkin sytylin' marker as his media and the super high-tech select-a-size paper towel we had set out for use as napkins as a canvas) and made himself a sign. PUMP-KIN. His sign says. He got a little spooky with the M. Check it out. It has an extra point, because it's that spooky.

Note, too, the pumpkin stains on the sign. They point to added authenticity of the pumpkin-carver as sign-maker.

Also, remember when you were the photographer so there were no pictures of you? You do remember that. You also remember posing outside with your pumpkin and the sign the next morning on your way to work. Lots of things to get into the shot. Why are your fingers looking so strange? It's okay. The neighbors didn't notice the self-portrait session.

Then, just for fun, you let the pumpkins (yours and joe's) pose with the sign on their own. They like to join in on the TIMWAS modeling, for they know that their time on this earth is short and they want to make the most of each day they are given.

You could learn a lot from a Jack-o-lantern.

WBP: Halloween stencil!

2007-10-22T14:49:00.000-07:00

If you've been watching my other blog (OMG...who has TWO blogs? Who has that much to say?) you'll note that my husband and I recently hosted a BYOP (Bring your own pumpkin) party.

Before the party, I went to Trader Joe's to pick up supplies (apple cider for mulling, 3 buck chuck for mulling, sunflowers for general living room cheer, and pie pumpkins for decor now and pie later). Outside of the University TJ's I found the above little guy. I'm thinking he's a skull. Whatever he is, he's spooky.

As promised: As an aunt

2007-10-12T15:49:00.000-07:00

Remember when I mentioned that I went to visit my sister in Alaska and her new baby boy? Remember that it’s hard to make signs and take photos when

you’re making sure that his momma has a glass of water to drink while she nurses (and she’s always nursing), cleaning the house, cooking, rocking the baby to sleep so the momma can have a break, running the three dogs, paying attention to the very troubled cat, and making a double recipe of my Grant Grandma Gladys’s YUMMY YUMMY caramel rolls, I was just too busy to make a sign.

Plus I didn’t have a permanent marker.

Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll have a chance to Photoshop some signs in later.

Anyway, it’s LATER, dear readers, mostly because there’s NO ONE in the office today to pose for me…so it’s TIMWAS remix time, ya’ll. '

So here it is, mixed up for you like you like it.

The photo of Brendan being a baby is one of my favorites. (Okay, there are a lot of favorites, but hey...) cuz it's from his morning tummy time when he's cute and calm and happy.

Also, he wanted to show off to you in Blogland that at 6 weeks he can hold his head up. He's that kind of baby. (Strong and proud like his Auntie Cupcake.)

Also, the photo of my sister is a great one...depicting relaxed, glowing motherhood. It's almost like my sister was BORN to be a momma. She's a great one. Mellow and cool even when the baby has cried for three days straight. And she's learning all the words to Yellow Submarine, which may become Brendan's signature tune.

Guest Sign Maker: Christy

2007-10-10T13:56:00.001-07:00

Dear TIMWAS readers,

It's me- Christy! Straight to you from the dirty East side- Word. [we miss you Christy! come back to the nasty north!]*

As you have read from a previous post by Cupcake, I have a new job. I work for The Man, literally- The Man to be.

At my new place, I am not allowed to take pictures inside the buildings, but today was a special day. [we're not really allowed to take photos of signs either, but we're willing to risk it for the glory of TIMWAS.]

Yes- I am featured in the New Employee Spotlight! Oh yeah- check out my picture in my Halloween office. Please excuse the lack of sign, but there is a Trick Or Treat sign- that can count right? [sure can. All signs are welcome here. We are an Equal Opportunity provider of signage photos.]

I like my new place, but I do get lonely sometimes without my super cool TIMWAS side kicks and without TIMWAS signs. [we get lonely without you, too Christy. it's not too late to come back. COME BACK!]

Anyhow I should get back to work as I'm pretty sure I don't get paid to blog, although some folks around here do- for reals yo. [ahh...one can dream, right?]

Have a Happy Halloween- the best holiday EVER. Long live Jack Skellington!

Love, Christy

*[comments in red by cupcake]

WBP: Knitted graffiti!

2007-10-09T09:35:00.000-07:00

I spotted some of the very graffiti I was talking about (and linking to) back here in Freemont (the center of the universe). hooray!

Additionally, while in Freemont I was given this important safety message:

and I did.

TIMWAS is 100!

2007-10-03T08:57:00.000-07:00

Or rather, this is my 100th TIMWAS post! Good golly!

In honor of this fine day, I would like to share a photo my mother sent me. Apparently I have a rock named after me! It's called Cupcake Rock and it's in Nevada. I shall have to visit it someday.

Happy 100 posts! Thanks to all the readers, guest signmakers, and posers! You make it all happen!

TIMWAS Newbie!

2007-09-26T15:08:00.000-07:00

There’s a new girl in town. Or at least, a new girl in the office. She’s a woman, really, but the phrase “There’s a new woman in the office” doesn’t have any clichéd ring to it whatsoever.

Her name is Tash*. That’s short for something. But her secret identity-protection TIMWAS name is Tash. There’s Second Sam, Jules, Cupcake, and Tash. Remember, we’re protecting the innocent here ya’ll. It’s the least we can do. (The very least, really.)

I’ve been in Alaska, meeting my first ever nephew. Yep, that’s right, Cupcake is an aunt. It’s a hefty responsibility. I kept meaning to take a TIMWAS photo with Brendan, the baby, but never got around to it. Those buggers keep you busy. Between making sure that his momma has a glass of water to drink while she nurses (and she's ALWAYS nursing), cleaning the house, cooking, rocking the baby to sleep so the momma can have a break, running the three dogs, paying attention to the very troubled cat, and making a double recipe of my Grant Grandma Gladys’s YUMMY YUMMY caramel rolls, I was just too busy to make a sign.

Plus, I didn’t have a permanent marker.

Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll have a chance to Photoshop some signs in later.

But back to the office. After six days in Palmer, Alaska, I’m back in Washington to do my job. And now we have a Tash. She’s not that new, really, she’s been around for a couple years, bobbing her head in lunch now and then, flashing her oceanic blue eyes at us. (Yes, before you write in to ask, they’re real.) She often comes with a small blond boy in tow**, who brings with him a number of plastic sharks and an amazing repertoire of shark sounds. He’s not here today.

Give it up for the daycare, ya’ll.

But back to me. I’m super tired. My plane was late getting in and then there was the 45 minutes it takes to get a suitcase at the SEATAC airport (we have got to get that fixed) and the time it takes to reacquaint with one’s spouse after six days of absence, and you get one really tired (droopy, melted frosting) cupcake.

Which means I don’t have a lot to say today.

I’ll be back after my nap.

*Rhymes with Posh. Like the Spice. Not rhyming with Sash, like the nasal short A sound you Midwesterners LOVE.

**It was all I could do not to type that she usually comes with her tow-headed boy in tow. But that would have been a little over the top.

WBP: Bridge Motel

2007-09-17T17:35:00.000-07:00

Who went to the craziest art show/installation/event/weirdness this weekend? I did.

The Bridge Motel (3650 Bridge Way N, off Aurora, in Fremont) will host a
one-night only event to kick off the MOTEL series on 15 September 2007, 5 PM -
midnight. For one night, its last night of existence, the Bridge Motel will be dressed up and called to shine and dance ... Numerous installation/performance artists have been given full rein the week prior, to transform each dilapidated pocket into whatever they could imagine. The opening evening will reveal the Bridge's final blossom before its inevitable razing. And to top it off, every inch of the motel will be crawling with performance artists, injecting the animation and energy of truly ephemeral art. The stellar roster of artists involved is sure to create a cacophony of sights and sounds to inspire the mind and heart, and give the aging motel a proper dress-up before it's demise ... This night is not to be missed.

A night not to be missed it was...I think. Which is to say, it was free, and though by the time we arrived (10:30ish) a lot of the installtions were either shut down or ruined, and we ended up waiting in a mob of crazies for almost an hour trying to get in to view the tiny, filthy, motel rooms, we did attend one of those events you just had to experience in person to fully "get."

While the installastions were a bit lackluster (a room full of salt? a room with two people pretending to do it on a bed? WHAT?) the outside of the motel was pretty awesome. And the people watching was SUPURB.

Remember my graffiti post? When I rhapsodized about the bird/man sticker guy? I found him…his name is No Touching Ground. If you go to Flickr and type that in you can see photos of his work from all over Seattle.

He was one of the urban artists given the outside of the motel as a canvas. Look at his great wheat pasting skillz.

remix remix!

2007-09-14T15:03:00.001-07:00

i'll stop now...i promise

TIMWAS remix ya'll!

2007-09-14T14:42:00.001-07:00

click on it. you won't be disappointed!

We miss you CP!

2007-09-14T13:24:00.001-07:00

Christy left us. It’s been a little traumatic.

It’s not like the other times when people have left…this one’s a bit closer to the surface.

I’m chalking it up to the fact that Christy used to sit at the front desk, and although I often didn’t have time to talk to her for very long, she was always there…grinning…when I came in: in the morning, after a meeting, etc. When I was bored, Christy would always be there, womaning the front desk, all chill, ready to amuse me.

I guess I began to take her for granted a little. And now, without her snide sense of humor and her ironic smile, I’m slapped in the face with what she meant to my sense of wellbeing and order in this office.

We miss you Christy. Thank you for serving our county in Redmond, Washington, at your new job. You’ll always have a place in our hearts right here at Buffy Org.

And just remember, kids, when we keep Christy in our hearts, it’s like she’s always here with us, even though we can't see her with our eyes.

Inter-office awareness campaign

2007-09-10T15:23:00.000-07:00

I used to have a really stressful job. Or, let me say, I used to allow myself to get really stressed at my job.

Sometimes this would lead to small breakdowns…crying sessions, really.

There’s this thing about working in a cubical: it’s not a great idea to sit and cry there. People walk by, they see you, it’s distracting, they get all up in your business, they’re just trying to help but talking about it usually makes you cry harder, you end up having to spread your crazy life out before them like so much schmear on your bagel, this leads to uncomfortably intimate relationships at work that you wouldn’t otherwise create, which leads to lowered workplace productivity, and so on, ad nauseum.

To remedy this, I would jump in my car and start driving. Around the corner, a left at the stop sign, a half mile down the road, and just when the tears get so thick you can’t see to safely drive anymore, there’s a Park and Ride lot. The Park and Ride lot is the BEST place for a crying session. Think about it: you can park there all day long. AND, everyone else has parked and ridden, which means that you’re pretty much alone in the lot, crying without fear of people walking by and seeing the mess you’re making of your newly starched shirt.

So. The Park and Ride lot was my friend. Turned out that I wasn’t the only one using the Park and Ride lot. After a series of conversations, it came out that a number of people in my office have also cried/broken down there.

It has become a piece of inter-office jargon; a question we ask one another to gauge the stress levels in our respective jobs: Are you visiting the Park and Ride this week?

While a number of us (no less than 4 confirmed Park and Ride Break Down (PnRBD) users) have stumbled upon the PnR as the ideal place for tears…there appear to be a few in our office who have not seen the light. There were reports of In-Cubical tears last week.

And, because I was in the middle of creating 12 flyer and brochure templates for use by our contractors, it appeared to me that we need an inter-office education campaign regarding the valuable services offered at our local PnR. I quickly amended a flyer and am working to spread the word.*

* Not true. I may have emailed said flyer to a couple of people (confirmed PnRBD users) in the office, but should it get back to anyone in charge that this flyer exists, I will deny any knowledge of it. Public education be damned.

After the party...

2007-09-07T16:02:00.000-07:00

We had a party at work the other day.

Don’t worry, it wasn’t a ploy to increase employee morale.

It was about showing off our new digs. It was a chance to brag about our new strategic partnership with our new conjoined office. I even ordered a cake that said “Celebrating Partnership” on it. It was a Costco cake, which is surprisingly tasty. I don’t even like cake. But I liked this cake. It must be the butter cream frosting.

Anyway, this party had balloons on the invitation, balloons on the web site, balloons on the Partnership Cake, and—of course—real balloons. Helium-filled balloons. In sets of three—comprising of red, blue, and yellow with corresponding curly ribbon.

We (the organizers of the party and procurers of the balloons) were going to pop them all and throw the limp carcasses away. But no. Someone wanted them to stay. There was mention of good cheer and even, dare I type it, FUN. We brought the balloons into the office from the Board room where they had been stationed (bright, hopeful beacons of festivity) and into the offices where they were tied around desk chairs.

The front desk was primarily bombarded with balloons, and Christy sat under their shade for a day and a half, until the smell of latex started to give her a headache, and she split up the bunches and passed them around the office. They’re the new office hot potatoes…people are foisting them upon each others offices like so many sticks of dynamite. No one wants them because…

Well…they’re starting to wilt.

Like spring flowers plucked to spend three days festooning your home with the smell of the season and hope for the future, the balloons may indeed have brought color and cheer to the office.

But, in flowers, who live only a couple days (longer if there’s flower food involved), there’s an overwhelming sorrow that comes from the wilt and drop of the petals of a tulip, much like there’s a bit of drear associated with a limp, listless latex shell of a balloon.

BTW: what’s with us today? Have you seen these photos? We may have lost our collective minds.

BTW2: There's a red balloon stalking the front offices, floating to and fro like a ghost of a lost soul (probably an ex-coworker who had to work too many weekends). It just came into my office after visiting the office across from mine. I want to believe that its the HVAC that's moving the balloon...but alas, there is absolutely NO air flow into my office. The only plausible explanation is that it's someone's soul.

BTW3: Christy has accepted another job. That means that she—faithful TIMWAS supporter and model—is leaving us. In her absence, we shall weep.

PSO/Leaving/Working from home: A Before and After Collection

2007-08-22T16:51:00.000-07:00

(brought to you by email, IM, and the magic of digital photography and color printers.)

I was chatting with Second Sam and Jules today (online…I love that IMing is called “chatting,” as if you were actually talking) while they were reading TIMWAS.

Jules noted that she was feeling TIMWAS withdrawal, a very common ailment presented by those who used to TIMWAS daily and are then forced to stop TIMWASing for a period of time.

To this I responded that they have cameras and that they should make a sign and send over some photos. Apparently this was the plan, but then there was a snafu. Something about Jules leaving work early because there’s nothing to do this week and there will be way too much to do next week (more on that later).

Then, through the magic of IM, Second Sam sent me some before and after photos depicting her state of bliss BEFORE and AFTER the week of Pre-Service Orientation (PSO) (which is fancy terminology for the week of in-office training all AmeriCorps Members endure before they are deployed to their specific and individual host sites across the county to help people by “Getting Things Done*”). PSO is a hard week. Lots of new people, lots of training, long hours, tears, the usual.

Since Jules and Second Sam don’t procrastinate like the rest of us, they’re already ready for PSO. Binders have been stuffed full of collated and three-hole punched information. Name tags have been printed. Get-to-know-you activities have been painstakingly researched and prepped. Snacks have been purchased and packed for freshness.

Thus, Second Sam and Jules are in pre-PSO week. The calm before the storm.

Second Sam’s photos are pretty great. The BEFORE and AFTER show a lot of feeling and depth. I mentioned in another chat that Jules was going to be sad that she didn’t play TIMWAS today.

But no, answered Second Sam resolutely (I assume it was resolute. It’s hard to hear tone in typing). JULES WILL PLAY TODAY.

And thus, our second Before and After series: of Jules before and after she left for the day. Note that she left her sweet hoody behind (probably because it’s about 80 degrees today and the fleece-lined hoody wasn’t necessary, but maybe because the fleece-lined hoody is supposed to be waterproof but isn’t, supposed to be windproof but isn’t, and is supposed to be cute but isn’t…we may never know).

And then, to join in the fun, the third BEFORE and AFTER series is about me: the look on my face when I’m working in the office—frazzled, harried, etc.—and the look on my face now that I’m all alone with two dogs and fresh air at my kitchen table. Why, I’m so busy sipping my martini that I can’t be bothered to hold up the sign.

*This is the national motto of AmeriCorps. I kid you not.

Guest Sign Maker: Eva

2007-08-22T08:30:00.000-07:00

Remember, dear readers, one of our past models, Triner? Triner has not been appearing in TIMWAS for a long time, alas, because she got a new job and is therefore not on the premises when signs are created and photographed.

It was a sad day for TIMWAS when she left, because Triner was the mastress* of diverse and eclectic sign poses and faces.

However, thanks to silly technology,** I now have access to some signs created by Eva, one super-duper-fantastic child of Triner, who is apparently a budding signmaker herself. I love it.

Looks like Eva was helping Triner out at her job at the shelter. Apparently someone donated a cake. The homeless need cake too.

But also something with a little more protein.

Think about it, dear reader.

*I'm trying to start a trend, here people. We have the word "master" but the feminine version of that word is "mistress," which can at times, mean something we liberated women don't want to be. So I propose the term "mastress," the new feminine version of master which feels really good in your mouth when you say it, and also sounds a bit like the word matress, which is fun to say as well.

**Okay, I'll admit it. It was myspace. Just when I say I'm done with myspace forever, that I'm so OVER myspace, someone (a "friend") leaves me a comment that makes me smile.

Also: you have to LOVE that face on Eva with the cake. Oh crap, that face says, DON'T drop the cake.

I have a SECRET

2007-08-21T16:05:00.000-07:00

Let me get this out there: I secretly love graffiti.

I know I’m not supposed to. I know it’s a blight on our landscape and a real eyesore. I know that painting over graffiti quickly is one of the surest ways of letting criminals know that you take public property seriously and will not tolerate vandalism.

But I like it.

I don’t like all graffiti. I don’t like it when the local thugs tag--spritzing their name on everything like so many male dogs lifting their legs to pee.

I like creative graffiti, the artsy design-inspired, cultural commentary, viral marketing grafitti.

I’ve been driving past a local pho shop for months—since we moved to south Seattle--that had a city electrical box (or whatever those metal-covered boxes are that sit so benignly in our urban landscape) on which someone had spray-painted a buffalo and the word “detach” in red stenciled glory. Next to the buffalo box was one of those donate your clothes and shoes bins—thus adding to its appropriateness and cultural commentary.

I’ve loved this graffiti sign...and I always thought that I'd pull over and take a photo of it some day. And then, alas, I drove by it yesterday and someone had painted over it in a big square of tan paint that didn’t actually match the tan color of the formerly-buffaloed box.

There are other graffiti artists in Seattle that make me smile every time I see their work--I’m thinking about the large wheat pasted ravens and girls with thick locks of hair blowing in the wind. They’re usually under overpasses and they dress up the otherwise solid gray landscape. This particular artist was even written about in Seattle Magazine, using, of course, a fake name to protect his identity.

Then there are graffiti knitters…whom I also adore. There are so many groups out there using knitting and crochet to tag…check out Knitta Please and Maskerade, two of (if I do say so myself) the best.

I don't actually participate in graffiti. Instead, I just take photos of stickers and micro-stencils I see out in the world (these are from the South Lake Union neighborhood) as well as a pretty sweet construction sign announcing…a hole. Loved that hole sign, given its "on-its-sideness" and the fact that I could find no hole to speak of anywhere near the sign. It was brilliant.

AND THEN: Cut to seven hours later on the drive home...in Rainier Valley what do we spot but...another HOLE sign. Seems like Washington State DOT had a number of these made for construction projects. I'll keep my eyes peeled for more!

(I'm sorry about the darkness of this last photo, but Joe took it for me while we were stopped at a light. The flash didn't carry far enough.)

(You'll note that it's RAINING, even though it's the middle of August. I'm pretty upset about that.)

WPB: sidewalk alien machinery illustration

2007-08-17T11:58:00.000-07:00

I’m working from home for three weeks. This is because Seattle has decided to fix some expansion joints on an overpass. People complained a lot for a while, about this being the largest shut down of major lanes on a major highway in all of Seattle’s history, and then the 35W Bridge collapsed in Minneapolis, and Seattleites shut it.

In the meantime, I get to telecommute, because I live south of the I-5 closure, and my office lives north of said closure. The city mayor said that if you have any saved up vacation at all, this would be the time to take it. Washington State Department of Transportation set up a web site with daily press releases regarding the construction and a blog where readers can comment and share alternate driving routes in and around the city.

The great thing about all this is that people actually took heed. I just spent three days at a Public Information Officer course, and we discussed the difficulties of getting people to take action through information presented through the media. We can issue press releases, purchase multi-million dollar ad campaigns, and get the local news trucks to the scene…but it’s still hard to motivate people to actually change something. (Unless it’s buying that cool new iPhone, which I hear people are buying, but which I’ve not actually seen in person yet.)

Take, for example, storm preparation. For those of you who were paying attention, Seattle had the biggest wind storm in its history last December—leading to something like 180,000 customers without power for up to two weeks. This was one of those things we saw coming, and the newscasters were all over telling us to prepare, buy batteries, find the flashlights, set up a three day disaster kit…blah blah blah. Guess where I was on the first of four days my husband and I spent without power?

At Target, buying batteries.

(This would be the Target near my office, which was out of the way of the wind storm and had power (and therefore, heat), where I drove daily so that I could have power and heat. Joe’s office didn’t have power, so he spent a lot of time walking the dogs. Walking, as you may well know, creates heat. At night, Joe and I drove around the city toward the light…light=power and went to movies and out to dinner and then put on our winter hats and drove home to sleep under every blanket we owned.)

Seattle City Light conducted a survey of people six months after the power outage and asked if they had since created emergency kits for their homes in preparation for future storms. Nope. Not so much.

But this traffic/construction thing, it’s actually working. Alternative work hours and telecommuting have sprung up across the city. REI (who is headquartered in Kent, south of the construction) set up a remote workstation in one of its conference rooms in its flagship store in Seattle so that employees who live north of the construction can drive in to downtown and work from there. Extra buses were added as well as extra cars on the Sounder Commuter Train. Discounts on van pool memberships offered.

And what happened on the first business day of construction—record low traffic. It’s crazy. People listening to their government.

However, with traffic being so light, it makes you think you should just go in to work, doesn’t it? No! Say the press releases: STAY THE COURSE. Stay home if you can. So I stay home. (Today, at least. As you’ll recall, I was out of town for the last three days in a lovely town called DuPont, Washington. I kept asking if this was the town in which we discovered how to make StainMaster Carpeting, but no one knew the answer. All I heard was that there used to be an explosives plant there. Was StainMaster Carpeting a byproduct of explosives testing? I know not…)

This blog entry isn’t very funny, I’m afraid. Lots of talk about serious issues, like carpet stains and telecommuting. I am however, sharing a photo I just took on Capital Hill, where I went to see the brochure that wouldn’t die roll off the presses. Unfortunately, the brochure that wouldn’t die (in typical BTWD fashion) had a glitch on the presses, and wasn’t ready for viewing.

I did, however, find this pretty sweet drawing of some alien machinery on the sidewalk outside the printer’s office. I thought about bending over to touch it, to determine what it was made of, since it had this wondrous three-dimensional quality to it like puffy paint does, but I thought better of it. You don’t want to be touching public property on Capital Hill. If you’re from the Seattle area, you know what I mean. If you’re not, trust me.

BBP: Alley giveaway!

2007-08-13T11:46:00.000-07:00

I've been biking. Seems like the thing to do this summer. It would be even more fun if there were fewer hills in Seattle.

After much time biking with only small, flat things in my pockets (it being much too hot on a bike to carry a backpack), I now have a little bag that attaches to the base of my seat so I can travel with things like...my camera. This is good news because I've been biking by this sign for a few days and wishing to snap a photo of it. I got the impression that it, though put in the ground on a metal stake, was a temporary sign, to be displayed only while the alley was flush with piano. As soon as that piano is gone, so too will the sign disappear.

I didn't bike down the alley to actually see the piano, but I did peer down the alley and see nothing. It made me wonder if there was never actually a piano down the alley, but if Wil E. Coyote had moved into my neighborhood and was trying to trick the Roadrunner into turning down the alley (meep meeping all the way) in the hopes of getting a free piano only to be snared by some road runner trap made and sold exclusively by Acme. Knowing this was a serious possibility, I did not bike down that alley. Wil E. is probably still waiting for someone to take the bait of his delicious sign.

Which begs the question: why would Roadrunner want a piano?

Also, for those of you who have expressed concern for my yellow dog, thanks. I bring you this updated photo, of his neck halo, in all its glowing glory.

TGIF. For reals.

2007-08-03T10:47:00.000-07:00

People always say Thank God it’s Friday, cuz they don’t really like working and they do really like weekends. I say it too. Fridays around here are sweet, mostly because I get every other one off now (as I switched to a new work schedule) and because on the ones I do work I get to wear jeans. This sounds like a small thing, but I seriously look forward to it all week long. I launder my favorite jeans in anticipation. Oh yes I do.

But this week I’m just so glad it’s finally Friday. It’s been what seemed to be the longest week of my life. And that, dear readers, is why I haven’t posted lately.

On Thursday night (of last week) my dog, Tristan, was pounced upon by another dog at a local park. Said other dog tore a softball sized piece of flesh (all the way through every layer of skin and down to the muscle) from the webbed part of the outside of his back leg (the part where the leg attaches to the body). What has ensued from there has been nothing but long nights of dog whining, blood dripping, EXPENSIVE, nightmarish, un-fun. Three trips to the vet, 14 hours of missed work, and $800 later, I still have a whiney dog who is both stitched and stapled back together. I won’t go into details, because they’re not that interesting and really they’re not happy. But I haven’t been getting much sleep. The guy whose dog did the damage doesn’t want to cover the bills. Now we’re thinking about small claims court. That’s another project I don’t really have time and energy for, but I don’t have $800 either.

So when I say TGIF today, I really do mean it. Friday today means I’m in jeans (yay). It also means that if something horrible happens tonight, I won’t have to call my boss with another ridiculous dog emergency excuse in the morning. I won’t have to call the vet AGAIN and explain why the last bit of surgery they did didn’t take. I won’t have to be that girl with the really messy life that affects her ability to do her job. Luckily, my boss is a dog owner and she gets it. But it doesn’t keep me from feeling guilty about lost work time and shirking of meetings, appointments, and responsibilities.

Hope you’re all coping better than me.

Peace.

DBP: I must have what?

2007-07-23T10:09:00.001-07:00

Dear T-Mobile,

Please caution Car Toys, your authorized distributor of T-Mobile cell phones and service plans, to proof read digital sign displays before launching them on high-visability intersections in downtown Seattle.

Love,

Cupcake

No Change Here.

2007-07-19T15:38:00.000-07:00

Today Paulette* made an unfortunate mistake. She fed a five dollar bill into the new** snack machine in the kitchen.

The snack machine specifically says on it that it takes $1 bills. It doesn’t actually say on it that it DOESN’T take $5 bills, but then it doesn’t say that it DOES either.

This is probably because either a) the machine was created back when the $5 bill was worth a LOT more than it’s worth now, thus people actually a1) carried change with them because it was worth something and a2) would never conceive of spending a $5 bill on “snacks” or b) the machine WILL actually take a $5 bill.

Oh yes it will. And it will give you your selected snack. But you will not get four dollars back.

You will get a quarter.

And THAT is a very expensive snack***.

To warn others from making the same mistake, someone added a sign to the snack machine. The sign tells you that the machine will take your $5 bill but not return correct change.

This made Edward* feel the need to discuss adding an additional word to the snack machine sign. The word was DUMBASS.

Alas, Second Sam thought she might need a sign that says she TOO will take $5 bills and not dispense change. And thus, dear reader, today’s TIMWAS sign was born.

*Not real names. Innocence, ya’ll.

**I use the term “new” loosely. It’s “new” to our kitchen. It is not, however, new to this world. In fact, it doesn’t even give change for $5 bills. WHAT?!?!

*** “Snacks” include, but are not limited to, BBQ twisted Fritos (eew), Peanut Butter M&Ms, and 100% Vitamin C-added Kellogg’s gummy “fruit” snacks.

NAS: President Bush

2007-07-18T11:13:00.001-07:00

Introducing a new column in TIMWAS: NAS, meaning "Not a Sign," but still worthy of comment.

Today's NAS comes from Second Sam, who is currently in Philadelphia (city of Brotherly love) watching the first President Bush speak about something. Probably community service, given the fact that Second Sam is at an AmeriCorps conference. But maybe he's trying to get the audience of concerned citizenry back on the side of his son. Who can ever tell?

Regardless, Second Sam sent me this AWESOME photo of the former Pres speaking. It may be the WORST photo I have ever recieved via email, as we (I'm going to go out on a limb here and speculate that this is the habit of the entire citizenry) tend to only send around useful and explicit photos. Maybe that should stop. Maybe we could start an entirely new trend right here in the land of NAS/TIMWAS -- the awful photo that shows almost nothing. This is easily facilitated by the fact that all phones and pdas now have crappy cameras inside them. Yes, this trend will sweep the nation.

What this photo does show, however, is some crazy stage lighting on the part of the conference hosts. Soemthing about bright blue and lavendar. I love it.

THIS JUST IN: Second Sam wants me to point out (because you can't tell from the photo) that the former President is wearing a nice grey suit and a red tie with a fun pattern. He is also saying that they (presumably the conference attendees) are making a difference.

WBP: I’m sure it has SOME horsepower

2007-07-16T11:37:00.000-07:00

This WBP is brought to you by last year’s anniversary weekend on Bainbridge Island at the Fuurin-Oka futon and breakfast in historic Winslow, WA.

The beauty, as I imagine, of the horseless carriage is the lack of doo doo to pick up. Should you not have upgrade to a horseless carriage and you HAVE doo doo to pick up, let me kindly refer you to the last TIMWAS entry for where to dispose of it.

WBP: What goes in there?

2007-07-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

Just doo-doo.

90 degree heat

2007-07-12T11:39:00.001-07:00

So we had record heat in Seattle yesterday. The thermometer in my car showed 100 degrees on my drive home (my mother Weather Undergrounded it and said it was only 95; Joe heard on the radio that it was 98 in the University District). Regardless, the last time it registered 95 degrees in Seattle was in 1951, so even if we didn’t set a new record, at least we matched an old one.

So why, dear Cupcake, are you so cold, you ask? Well, because someone in Tempe AZ controls the thermostat in our office, and apparently in Tempe, they like it COLD. So so so cold.

I just got an Instant Message from Second Sam that read: “I have never been so cold at work. I am so so cold please*! My vest is helping.”

To which I responded: “I have a cape made of a Tulalip Casino blanket and a binder clip. It is helping please*.” (You're going to want to click on the photo of me to see the binder clip in all its glory. You'll notice that I chose an orangey-red clip to color coordinate with my blanket.)

And thus, today’s TIMWAS was born.

Marjorie** came into my office a minute ago and was like, “Wow you really ARE cold” when she saw me in my illustrious cape. And then she asked why I don’t just tell Maxine** and see if there’s something to be done about it.

I mentioned that I don’t have a real good track record with making pointed observations to those in leadership positions within our company, and that such observations, once said aloud, typically have negative consequences for me (the sayer) and that I would prefer to continue to wear my cape in silence. She nodded in understanding.

Marjorie, of course, hasn’t told Maxine either, and instead, runs her space heater underneath her desk to warm her legs.

* Yeah, we have a new thing where we say please after almost every sentence. It is also accompanied by the deepest man voice you can muster and a stilted robot dance. It’s good times. You’re going to want to play along.

** Names have been changed to protect those who have no knowledge of TIMWAS.

SBP: Time for a name change

2007-07-11T16:02:00.000-07:00

This is SBP: Sit by Photography, as in, Joe, Sara, and I were sitting outside eating breakfast when lo and behold I saw this sign parked right outside the restaraunt. I had to laugh outloud.

Let's say that word of mouth is one of your best marketing tools as a small business owner. What last name would you choose? You're going to want to click on the picture (to enlarge it) to see what Aline is apparently STUCK with.

Good times.

TIMWAS flashback: Roxy invades the office

2007-07-06T13:45:00.000-07:00

WHOA. I was paging through some photos and LO AND BEHOLD, I found a TIMWAS that was never posted! Dear me.

This TIMWAS looks like it was Take your Dog to Work Day (TYDTWD), but it actually wasn't. If it HAD been TYDTWD, Roxanne (the dog) would NOT have been invited, because, dear readers, she is dog aggressive.

What does this mean? It means she will fight your dog until the death. (This does not please the coworkers. Or their dogs.)

Instead, this was a Special Compensation from the President to Bring Your Dog to Work for a Half-Day because She's Sick and Needs an Ultrasound (SCFTPTBYDTOFAHDBSSANAU). Plus, the closest doggie ultrasound place (of which there are two in the Puget Sound region), is located near to your office and far from your house. PLUS, the ultrasound place only has a NOON appointment, which is in the middle of the day.

What's wrong with your dog, Cupcake? you ask, cuz you're the considerate asking type.

Well, dear reader, after two urinary cultures, a complete round of blood work, a two-week round of antibiotics, an x-ray, and an ultrasound, I am happy to report that apparently NOTHING is wrong with my dog. She's peeing in my house and she's grouchy (and I'm out $1,000 in vet fees), but there's nothing medically wrong with her.

I am trying to get my husband to agree to call a pet psychic, but he says they're quacks. He's probably right, but we've exhausted western science's avenues of exploration. There's always doggie acupuncture. Or doggie psychiatry. Or doggie prison. Options we have all explored.

Anyway, Rox came to work with me and wagged her tail but mostly just laid on a blanket and practiced her pathetic doggie stare that says my mommy and daddy don't love me as my coworkers walked by in hopes of spurring on sympathy and ear scratching. (It worked.)

We DO love her. We do. It's just that she's ruining the carpet in our new house. Cuz even though our new house has wood on every flooring surface EXCEPT the staircases (long story), that's where she pees. Oh, and on the $1,000 rug too. SWEET.

Never you worry. After thousands and thousands of dollars spent replacing leather shoes, camping gear, every jacket in the house, and a number of hard-cover library books...not to mention vet bills (the six visits brought on to remove the ever-appearing porcupine quills the most notable) and LOTS of psychological damage at the dog park, we're not going to get rid of this dog.

Luckily, we love her in all her insane sweetness (and the Elvis-inspired side burns).

July 3rd: Not a holiday

2007-07-03T13:38:00.000-07:00

Today is July 3rd. It's NOT a holiday. July 4th, now there's your winner. But the 3rd, it's not even an EVE, like December 24th or a DAY AFTER, like EASTER Monday (which, BTW, no one gets off any more) or the Friday after Thanksgiving (which, for some reason, we DO still get off).

No.

July 3rd is just a tiny day in the midst of lots of other days that happens to abut a national holiday like the last book before the bookend. You still have to go to work, though many people take it off, and even though only twelve percent of the staff show up to the office, if you're one of those 12%, you still have to pretend you're working, cuz those people who DIDN'T show took the time to fill out the vacation form (it's a triplicate form, with carbon copying capabilities), have it signed by a direct supervisor, hand the yellow copy to HR, hand the pink copy back to the supervisor, and kept the white (top) copy to later be attached to their timesheets in order to verify that the PTO was approved beforehand (preferably at least three weeks in advance).

No, since you (and three other people) didn't go through the arduous vacation request form process, you're in the office today.

Working. Or something.

And the thing about the days leading up to any holiday, which I've mentioned before in this here blog and I will mention again, is that if you're not in Hawaii or Indianapolis with family, you may as well work.

And this, dear reader, is because of the work days that exist throughout the year, DAY BEFORE HOLIDAY DAYS are the "lite" days (50% less fat and accomplishmant than an ordinary work day) of the work day world. These are the low-sodium, the high-fiber, the good-for-you days. There are rarely any meetings (since everyone's out of town), and there are 50% fewer emails coming in (since everyone's out of town), and invariably, at some point, the Powers That Be come in and announce that the office is closing early and happy happy holiday.

It's almost like buying the jumbo sized laundary detergent at Costco: 25% more free! (Except backwards: you actually get to work 25% fewer hours without getting in trouble. I guess that makes it like getting 25% less detergent for full price, when what you want is less detergent. Never mind. This analogy isn't working that well. ABORT PROJECT DETERGENT ANALOGY. I REPEAT: ABORT.)

Anyway, all that good stuff aside, we spent the bulk of the day whispering about what time they'll let us leave. And that, dear readers, is what today's TIMWAS sign is all about.

Big Box

2007-06-28T12:47:00.000-07:00

I can’t really talk about it. There are sensitive political issues at stake (which is to say, relationships among people and organizations that are stretched tight like the gut strings* on a violin…if plucked wrong they make the WORST noises, if plucked REALLY wrong, they’ll snap).

Anyway, I’ve been alone this week (meaning slim pickings on TIMWAS sign models) and I’ve been working on this project hereafter referred to only as “Big Box.” Big Box is a code name. It was chosen as the code name to symbolize the enormity of the project (thus the adjective “Big”) as well as the structural complexity of the project (as in, “Box.” A Box is both structurally complex and deceptively simple, much like the real project for which the term Big Box is standing in).

Blah blah blah. I digress. Reeling from the several-month process of working on Big Box, and finally having my time spent on Big Box called to a premature end, I was explaining the long (LONG) story of the Big Box to my husband, and when I asked him, “Is this REALLY how business works?” he said yes.

And to that (as you’ll see when you enlarge the flow chart**) I say, WOW.

* I just looked it up. Apparently the first gut strings were fashioned by Apollo. He used a tortoise’s intestines to string his first lyre. Then they were made (by people who actually existed) from the intestines of sheep. Check this quote out, from Making Gut Strings by Daniel Larson:

It all begins at the abattoir. The intestine is also known as a casing and is referred to in the trade as a "set". The intestine must be pulled from the animal immediately after slaughter while the gut is still hot. This will insure that the blood vessels that run into the casing will be broken off close to the gut wall. To allow the organs to cool will risk having these veins break off as much as 1.5 inches away from the casing wall.”

This is fascinating stuff people. We just don’t learn these things on television. (Also, I looked up abattoir and it basically means slaughterhouse. Just thought I’d save you the trip to dictionary.com)

Also, there's a really great (and by great, I mean gross) photo of a gut string making "crusher/scraper." Yes, that's really the name of the apparatus. Click here to see it.

** Or, as I like to say here at TIMWAS, the series of small, delicately (and yet causally) linked signs.

WBP: Wayzata, MN

2007-06-27T19:32:00.000-07:00

So the office is EMPTY this week. That means that there are no TIMWAS models. It also means that I can get LOTS and LOTS done because no one is interrupting my lumbering trains of thought. It also means that I'm lonely.

Today I give you graffiti I picked up on a street light pole in Wayzata Minnesota. Ever been there? It's for rich people. Okay, not Seatlle-type richies, with their yachts and personal museums (thank you Paul Allen) but Minneapolis richie, with their three car garages and their ability to not scoff at paying over $90 for an infant outfit. Which is to say, I was in MN (those dear stomping grounds of my youth) hosting (with my mother) a baby shower for my expecting sister. (She's expecting a BABY. His name is Brendan and his favorite person is his aunt Heather. Trust me. I know these things.)

Anyway, to make a long story boring, the famdamly went for brunch one Sunday morning at the brunch restaurant on the lake (That's Lake Minnetonka for those of you following along with your atlases--[atlasis? atlassi?]) and then we went for a stroll (or rather a lean as it was so windy we had to propel ourselves forward down the street) toward the baby store. I have no recollection of what it's called...but it's the gorgeous place filled with delicate baby things that all cost about $2,000. Okay, that's an exaggeration, but not by much.

I've never had a baby, and I'm the youngest child, but I did do some babysitting as a youth, and it's my understanding that those little buggers grow pretty fast. Additionally, their favorite (or only) daily tasks include pooping (sometimes on EVERYTHING) and spitting up (same same). So why, when I won't buy myself a $90 pair of pants, would I buy a BABY a $90 pair of pants? (Okay, it's a onesie, which I guess means that it's like a whole outfit for $90, but without the ability to mix and match with other pieces in one's wardrobe, but WITH those awesome crotch snaps that apparently adults don't get.)

This is all to say that on the road to the over-priced baby store, I saw the sticker of the person in the hoody with an H embroidered on the chest. Since I love graffiti, I took a photo. Since I am an H, I was double thrilled with the find.

I would also like to point out that in Seattle, as in many other urban areas, graffiti most often takes the form of spray painted or paint penned letters and drawings. There is an occasional stencil artist who peppers the buildings with assembly line art, but stickers are few and far between. I would like to make a note that in ritzy richie suburbs, even the graffiti is high class. Colorful, self-adhesive, cute, and HIGH CLASS.

sniffle...

2007-06-22T16:05:00.001-07:00

Remember when Kimi left? And your whole world seemed like it would end? (And it did end, for a little while?)

That’s what happened to us.

Kimi found a new job in sunny California, and she actually took it. In fact, she credits me for getting her the job by writing her a stellar cover letter to accompany her resume, but really all I did was rearrange some things on a cover letter she had already written. It was in fact Kimi’s expertise and cool personality that got her the job. But I feel a bit sad for even potentially playing a part in her departure. Never mind that the job is a big step up for her, and now she gets to live near her in-laws (can you say free babysitting?), and she might even have moved to a place that’s healthier in SO MANY WAYS than the current place in which we work, but we miss her so much.

On another note, I’d like to point out two things.

One: This sign was brought to you by Christy. Who REALLY MISSES KIMI. And if you read the TIMWAS comments, it was she who suggested the theme of today's sign.

Two: Second Sam is so sad that she forgot to incorporate a prop in her photo. That’s REALLY sad.

Three: First Sam is “kissing” Kimi, because that’s what she thought the sign said. Then I started to show her the other pictures we had taken, and she got confused, because no one else was kissing Kimi. I pointed to the “M” in front of “issing” on the sign and she went…huh….well, Blue Explorer.

Which brings me to a funny story. A couple days before Kimi left, we had a small, informal get together of old friends to send her off. There was wine, and there was mochi chicken, and there was guava cake, and there was spam, and there was mac salad that incorporated a WHOLE bottle of mayonnaise*.

Before that get together, there was a meeting at which Kimi and First Sam were in attendance. After which, the plan was for First Sam to follow Kimi to the party location**.

So Kimi is driving along, and then she makes a turn, but notices that there is no First Sam behind her. Hmmm…thinks Kimi. What’s up with that?

Meanwhile, First Sam is blindly following another car to TIMBUCKTWO. She’s also on the phone***.

Sam sees the car she thinks she following pull over at a gas station and thinks, Kimi must need gas. I’ll pull over too and just wait for her.

First Sam keeps talking on the phone.*** Until…the door to the vehicle opens, and instead of Kimi****…

It’s a man. On crutches.

Shit. Sam says to her phone conversant, I think I just followed the wrong car.

Kimi later recounted this story over dinner. The story was funny in its own right, but it was even funnier when First Sam tried to defend herself (It was a very similar looking car! Easy to confuse!)

To which Kimi responded, It was a BLUE EXPLORER!*****

Anyway, WE MISS YOU KIMI.

*Kimi is one of three Hawaiians we at one time had on staff here. That means that parties feature Hawaiian food. Have you had it? It’s good. But it’s not good FOR YOU.

**Kimi drives a silver mini-van. She has driven this silver min-van for longer than First Sam has worked with us.

***Sam is ALWAYS on the phone.

****In case you didn’t get this, Kimi is a WOMAN. She’s not on crutches, either.

*****In case you don’t live in America, a Blue Explorer and a silver Chrysler Town & Country Minivan look pretty darn different, especially in broad daylight.

i'm so delightful!

2007-06-20T16:11:00.001-07:00

THIS JUST IN:

TIMWAS is delightful! Oh yes it is! We've been accepted as a "delightful" blog!

Check me out by clicking here. (Well, check out my listing. You're already checking out my blog, since you're reading this and all.) You can rate the blog, leave comments, and generally work to make me, Cupcake, famous.

board meeting, black shirt

2007-06-19T16:53:00.000-07:00

Today I found out (at the board meeting) that they cut my budget by 62% for next year without consulting me, but when asked, the director of our Board Finance Committee said that they checked with me and I’m totally able to fulfill all the objectives of the strategic plan with that amount of money.

They didn’t check with me.

But it’s cool, cuz here at work we like to look on the bright side.

What’s the bright side today, Cupcake? You ask. The bright side is that today is wear a black shirt and tan trousers day. Which is to say, it’s not really WABSATTD, but Jules and I both showed up wearing them. Also, any use of the word trousers makes me laugh a little. It’s just so inefficient. In the time it takes to say trousers one could have said pants like 52 times.

Unless you’re British. Then pants means something that we Americans wear under our trousers, and it’s not said in polite company. UNLESS, you’re a youngish hipster UKian…then pants is the new expletive. As in…What happened at the Board Meeting today was just PANTS. I know cuz I learned this from a young hip UKian a couple months ago (who, by the way, was visiting the US of A for the first time and before she left everyone told her that she would have a HORRID time because Americans are the RUDEST people ever and instead she had a time that was, in her words, just brilliant, because everyone here was just so nice to her, nicer even than the Brits are).

On a related but un-photographed note, Melanie* and First Sam also showed up wearing similar outfits, but I’m not sure if Melanie wants to play TIMWAS, and I’m not sure I want to get fired, so I didn’t take photos of them. Regardless, they’re both wearing black and white skirts, black v-neck shirts, and black slide-on shoes with an x-shaped strap over the toes. It’s real cute when they stand next to each other.

But back to me.

I was also at the Board Meeting this morning and my Board Chair told me that my office needed cleaning. I actually didn’t need cleaning, dear reader, believe me. I did, however, have a few posters stacked against the wall that I hadn’t yet figured out how to hang as well as several boxes of promotional materials that I’ve been ferrying in my car back and forth to events (CUZ HEY, that’s what he PAYS ME TO DO), but don’t worry, lesson learned: I hung the posters and moved the boxes to storage. I do, however, still have some papers ON WHICH I AM CURRENTLY WORKING on my desk. So, if you’re looking for me, I’ll be figuring out how to work without anything resembling work in my office**.

On a final note: Second Sam is hiding because she is NOT wearing the requisite outfit (she did not get the memo). Yes, that IS the Birthday Macaw in the photo behind me. Oh yes it is.

*name was changed to protect the innocent…er…I mean...to protect the cupcake.

**I used to have a boss who said that a dirty desk meant that a lot of work was getting done. He said that the person before me had a really clean desk but didn’t do ANYTHING, so he was glad to see papers and books and CD-ROM jewel cases scattered about because it meant I was actually TOUCHING things and WORKING on them. Nuff said.

We’ve moved.

2007-06-18T16:36:00.000-07:00

Remember when I started talking about the office move, like, I don’t know, six years ago? Well, dear readers, I’m here to tell you that it FINALLY HAPPENED. Not only that, but we’re in, we’re unpacked, and we’re working hard.

So hard, in fact, that I logged 102 hours over my last pay period. A pay period is something around two weeks, give or take. You’re supposed to have only 80 hours logged during this period. But I like to work. Work and work and work. What I like best about working 102 hours is how when I see my Board Chair he’s a complete dick to me and finds a way to make all my hard work look like poo. God bless some people, eh? They’re just NATURAL motivators.

And I have the office WITH a door, I might add, to prove it. No raises here folks. Just offices. A little perk. Plus a change in health care benefits…for the worse. SWEET.

I know I’m supposed to NOT have a door because there’s no window in my door and instead there are four light spots where signs used to hang, but no one has taken it away from me yet in order to get a window put into it. Lawrence* suggested that I cover the ugly part with some paper and then maybe everyone will forget that my door is ugly and instead I’ll be able to keep my window-less door. (I’ve done that with an attractive pictorial calendar. I also added a recent news article highlighting our good work as an organization, because I want to prove to my coworkers that I’m actually doing my job. It’s working so far: the forgetting about the door, not the proving that I’m working.)

A window-less door is a good thing, primarily because when it’s shut, people are afraid to knock. In fact, someone walked by the other day (this I heard from Kimi) and said they were looking for me, and Kimi told them that I was in my office working and that they could knock on my door, but they decided they’d “catch me later” since I must be busy. (I was busy, BTW, but still, my president has to actually LOCK her office door because even when she hangs the sign on the outside saying “busy, please come back later” people just barge in. Kimi** says that now that she has a window people lean to the side, look through the window, see she’s in a meeting, and come in anyway.)

Anyway, today we present you with photos of our new workspaces. Check out the blue wall I painted (with my own time, money, paint, supplies, and angst) in my office! Look at Christy’s new headset! She’s hands-free, baby! Note Sam's prop.

And, finally, loook at Jules. Please write and say that her hair isn’t “domestic.” She’s getting a lot of flack from friends for having “domestic” hair. This, dear readers, I couldn’t even make up.

*not his real name

**Kimi actually left last week for a new realer job. As Marcos* said, losing Kimi feels like finding out that your favorite TV show was canceled. Except there aren’t even any reruns to soothe the gaping hole left by her absence.