Yiddish and Pictionary

Driving to a surprise party in Ohio currently. I will wait to post this until after the party has begun so as not to ruin the surprise. Listen to me worry about someone checking this blog site SO OFTEN that they would consult it prior to their dinner plans, before they fill up for gas or stop over at a winery for a glass of wine. I'll reel the ego back in and talk about ties instead.

I might be wearing a tie later today which would mark the fourth time in three years. This fact alone, I think, shows that ties and I will not keep regular company in my employment future. This rules out most office buildings and all of the Olive Gardens & California Pizza Kitchens. It's not that I feel uncomfortable in a tie - I feel quite good actually with a smartly-designed bit of silk or rayon hanging from my neck - its that they resemble little nooses. That and whenever I wear one I'm drowning in terror that I will dip it in mustard or get it caught in a combine of some sort - - thus ruining the only tie that I own and making it impossible for me to wear one every six months should the opportunity present itself. Maybe I won't wear one today as the surprise party might involve both mustard and farming equipment. It's Ohio, and anything could happen.

Krissy will hit me for that one, (and writing this too, come to think of it) so know that I am somewhere, tie-less, getting beat up. Aloha.

PS: after writing that – keep in mind that we're in the car and Kris is driving – I look up from the screen and she turns down her music from the thundering level it was to just something that borders on deafening and says to me: Are you writing mean things about me in there?

Our minds are linked to the point where she knows when I'm writing not-sweet things about her, but put us on the same Pictionary team and drawing something like ON or HARPOON or BULLSEYE and you'd think we were both blind and speaking different dialects of yiddish.