Saturday, September 10, 2005

I think I've made a breakthrough in sociolinguistics. I have answered the question "Why do people lie?"

I believe that the development of the lie went something like this:

The first job is created.

The first employee is hired.

The first employee is late for the first time.

The first employee/liar tells their boss that a dromeceiomimus seriously injured them but they decided to come to work anyway, albeit late.

The first employee/liar promptly becomes the first person to be "in between jobs."

I am going to be late to work in a few minutes. I want to be honest. I want to tell my boss that I was on my way out when my roommate, Virginia, yelled for me to come and try the makeshift slip-and-slide she had put together in the backyard.

How could I possibly say no?

So now I have to lie about why I'm late.

I may also have to think up a reason why my pants are wet.

Making socio-linguistics are hip!

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Kelly and I are leaving for Tucson this evening for a couple of nights. Her grandparents are having an extravagant birthday party...or wedding anniversary. One of those events that gets you in trouble when you forget.

It's grandparents gone wild!

I shall return Saturday morning. My mother's birthday is on Sunday. I'm glad I haven't forgotten that. I don't want to test my hypothesis that I am too old to hit with a wooden spoon.

Don't underestimate the recent advances in wooden spoon technology.

I had a wonderful conversation with Verina as I walked home. Sadly, it was over the phone. Well, sadly on my end because I was dusty and sweating but she is in the delightful city of San Diego and I can be happy for her.

'Sides, I like dust and sweat.

I often take for granted the cultivation a proper friendship requires. Far too often I am content with informal communication, i.e., blogs and livejournals. Speaking with Verina after too many years of not hearing her voice was awesome.

Writing in a journal, I think, is like growing something in a greenhouse. The elements are controlled; a lot of the variables are contained.

But having a conversation or pursuing some other activity together is so...wild. Maintaining a line of communication amidst a tangle of other goings-on. It's like the Indiana Jones...of language.

Speaking of archaeology, everyone should read Dinosaur Comics.

Make sure to go back through a few of the archives. You'll be pleasantly counfounded.

Monday, September 05, 2005

I'm a terrible delivery boy.

Well, not terrible. But I do get distracted easily.

During one delivery, a ferret ran out of the open door. I reached down, picked it up, handed it back to the lady. Then we had a ten minute conversation about ferrets and their wacky ways. It was like we were sharing stories about our kids. It was pleasant, although her ferret had been on the honor roll for two years straight and mine had barely graduated with the minimum amount of credits.

We did not arrange a play date.

Another woman and I had a long conversation about working in the food service industry and the wacky ways of stealing food.

In the parking lot of an apartment complex, a guy asked for help jump-starting his car. So I did.

In another parking lot, a guy pulls up next to me and asks me for directions to the nearest liquor store. I give the directions, repeat them, and he goes on his way when I am certain that he will find the liquor.

I also saw a lady chasing a guy with a broom so I ran around the corner where I had seen a police officer and got him to help.

I guess what I'm really doing is not so much delivering pizzas as patrolling the city helping my fellow citizens...find liquor.