frisbee failures anonymous

Frisbee. Great sport. It's probably as "life-time sport" as you can get, when you think about it. You can play ultimate when you're 20 and standing-still when you're 80. You can play in the park, you can play in the field, you can play at the beach. You can play with your friends, your family, your dog.

Unless you're me, in which case you do not play at all.

I think I somehow missed frisbee training as a child. I'm not sure how, since my brothers and sister are frisbee champions, but I missed it. Most likely, I recognized my lack of talent from the beginning and compounded my weakness by taking off when the frisbee came out. Little did I realize how much this would later affect my young-adult life. "Everyone can throw a frisbee," they say. Not the case, I assure you. While other people are busy working on the finger-flip, thumber, and over-hand wrist flip, I'm trying to master the basic backhand. Several kind coaches and attempted-trainers have volunteered their services over the years, but I've driven them away one-by-one with my hopeless cause and finger chafing complaints. I've even played by myself at time or two, throwing the frisbee from one end of the yard to the other in my own private game of fetch.

But perhaps I'm not alone. If you or someone near you suffers from this affliction, please contact me and we can work through this together.

Or maybe just play ping pong.

an ode to BBVA

I couldn't decide between writing a poem and writing about work so...

Adventures at BBVA
"Bay Bay OooVay Ah" to you,
Downtown, Alcalá building
From 9 until 7, floor two.

International payments and profiles
Analyses, investigations,
Electronic banking and transfers
But for now, just a few observations:

José likes his windows wide-open
Teresa gets cold and complains,
The person at my desk before me
Enjoyed making paper-clip chains.

Raquel dashes office-to-office
Running- not even fast walking,
Juan Carlos fiddles a silverish cube
When calling or waiting or talking.

Alberto's a paper-ball wadder
The smaller, the better, the tighter,
Smoking inside is permitted in Spain
I think I might steal Pepe's lighter.

The cleaning girl cuts up old bottles
To plant little ivy-type beans,
It makes the whole place feel exactly like home
Without casual Fridays or jeans.

My computer is none-too-impressive
My efficiency? Hmm, not the goal,
I'm dealing with low RAM and hard drive
But at last I've a mouse that can scroll.

And my screen boasts a perfect reflection
Of my boss, whose desk is behind me,
So reading the news... checking my mail...
Writing poems? he never will find me.

Afterword: I actually wrote all these verses at home on a Saturday... faithful little employee that I am.

curl dedication

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This might strike some people (most people?) as a little odd, but I used to dedicate curls on a regular basis. Sometimes by request, sometimes by chance, they always went out to someone who I thought had earned it. My hair is really more crooked than curly, so it's the Susan[from Ramona Quimby]-style "boing" curls that get all the attention. It's not every day you get a dedication-worthy version, however, and they're only good until the next shower. I can hardly remember the last time I dedicated a curl, so when I came across this one today I knew what must be done. I had a few deserving friends to choose from, but since Air Supply's "Every Woman In The World" came on the iPod as I was walking by Starbucks yesterday, there was no arguing. This one's for Moose!

the farmer in the dell

Dell Computers, that is. The cable's arrived, the computer's alive.

hi-ho the derry-o

down for the count

I understand that my dedicated and faithful readers (cough) had high hopes for a new post today, particularly since I've managed to post at least once weekly since my July debut. Pretty impressive (obsessive?), if I do say so myself. Anyway, many apologies, but this is mostly a post to say there will be no post. Sense? My laptop charger/adapter has taken ill, deathly ill, and instead of lighting his green light and charging my comp, he emits a faint beeping. I might have been able to withstand the beeping if he could only accompany it with the charging, but that's apparently too much to ask. After a quick internal debate over whether or not I could survive until Christmas without a computer, I kicked myself and asked who am I kidding. Replacement is on the way.