A Nice Piece of Apple Pie

It's the holiday season in the newsroom. It's loud in here. We have a lime green Dr. Seuss Christmas tree in the corner which pretty much suits us. It looks like a bottom-heavy topiary one might find smack in the middle of Who-ville.

The Supreme Commander (Patti) is about to throttle Southern Fried Sexy (Jeff) because he verbally pokes at her pretty much non-stop (in a good natured way, of course) all day now. Ryan eggs him on. I hurl insults at both of them. Jeff hurls them back and Ryan just laughs.

Safina (from advertising) is walking around with a white Kleenex hanging from her nostril. Brenda is wearing red reindeer antlers.

Today I got busted talking like Julia Child (I do it because it amuses Brenda) by a hapless delivery guy who happened to come in the back door through the press room and no one saw him coming. Ryan has been obsessed with Harry Potter and he was talking about the villain Voldomort and I said in my Julia Child voice (at full volume) "He needs a nice piece of apple pie"...right at the time the delivery guy walked in. (I was facing Ryan with my back to the door and didn't see him coming). The newsroom busted up and Ryan said the delivery guy was trying really hard not to laugh because he probably thought something was really wrong with me.

Actually, there probably is.

What's it all about, anyway?

Today we are only working til noon here in the newsroom. I had to write a story about a cultural phenomenon that grates on my nerves like rolling through broken glass naked: Black Friday.

I mean seriously...a holiday celebrating buying lots of stuff for an already too commercialized holiday??? People getting up before the sun and biting and clawing and elbowing their way through mega-chain stores to greedily snatch up bazillions of dollars of STUFF to give as gifts to an already STUFF-saturated society in the name of a holiday called CHRISTMAS - which is SUPPOSED to celebrate the birth of Jesus who once told us that STUFF isn't what He's all about.

Ok...that was my soapbox.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Turkey pardon

Jeff-Rob the Heart Throb is getting chewed out by Patti-the-Supreme-Commander. Ryan and I are laughing. Actually, Patti never chews anyone out. She's either too nice or we're just an awesome newsroom. My bet is on too nice.

We're all getting ready for our day off Thursday, and I guess we just have lots of ants in our pants to have an extra day off.

We're trying to figure out how to get the story about North Korea attacking South Korea in today's edition. Kind of a big story. But we probably have to move a church bazaar or a school program story in order to accommodate the news which means we're going to make a few local folks mad.

I wrote a little story about the Presidential Turkey Pardon. Hysterical stuff, really.

Ugly slug

The sun's death rays are kicking me in the eyeballs again. That means it's about time to go home.

Today was another boring day in the newsroom. Except that Ryan just now jumped up and started randomly hitting keys on my keyboard and telling me I should let HIM write the blog.

I just had to backspace a lot to correct his attack.

Patti is yelling because Lauren-in-distribution strung all her paper clips into a chain.

I have realized I have become a shell of my former self. I look back on posts I wrote early in the year and I had so many projects and I was so busy and I was ACTUALLY INTERESTING. Now I've become a slug. A big, fat slug with an attitude problem.

Trippin'

Ryan has big dreams. Today he informed the newsroom that it is his ultimate goal to become the dictator of the world. He said here at the newspaper he gets to learn a little bit about everything.

Jeff has been leaving early every day. He does that a lot in winter months. That's because he's the sports editor and he goes to games at night so he doesn't have to work during the day.

I just located my bio-father's side of the family today, so I am trippin. I talked to a first cousin (named Josh) who lives in Tokyo this morning. He was really nice.

I don't really feel like blogging today.

Rain boot dreams

I'm sitting at my desk with a large distended belly. Today was the Kiwanis Annual Chili Cook-off and Patti and I went because I entered the cooking fray (and won a 3rd place trophy). I wrote a story about it that made Kirby laugh out loud. She said it made her day. I like that.

Ryan has been sick so he isn't nearly as much fun as usual. He sits over there, pathetically, in his coat with his sunglasses on the back of his head. Poor kid.

Kirby is now daydreaming about rain boots.

Jeff has disappeared for the day, and Patti is laughing manically for no apparent reason over at her desk.

Another day in the newsroom.

En Francais

Ok...Ryan is pestering me to teach him to speak French, so we had a basic lesson today. Now he knows how to say "good day," "goodbye" "please," "thank you," and "go f*** yourself" en francais.

I wrote two Veteran's Day stories today...and I am out of words. We found out today we get to take tomorrow off, because the paper cannot be delivered Thursday and if there is no paper delivery there can be no paper. No Thursday paper means no Wednesday work.

I am beside myself with joy.

Death Rays

Holy Toledo it has been a Monday. Running all the livelong day. And now, since Standard Time is in effect, death rays from the sun shine right through the front door of the Weatherford Daily news and straight into my eyes...and will continue this way every day in the late afternoon until the end of winter.

I sit in the worst place. Seriously. Not only are the death rays highly unpleasant, but here in the newsroom we have calculated that if a shooter comes in the front door to take out the writers (we make a lot of people very angry, especially when we report on their evil deeds) - I will be the first to go down. Jeff and Patty can simply scramble under their desks while the first bullets fly, or they can make a quick exit up the stairs to the attic. Ryan is second in line for the mayhem, but he said he would throw his big camera at the assailant then dive through the plate glass window to take him out. Ryan promises he'll chuck the camera and break the glass before the bad guy can get a shot off. I feel better.

Currently, however, the dear boy is spitting out quotes from "The Family Guy." We are both finished writing for the day - but now poor Patty has to slap all those words on the pages while we entertain ourselves with various means until it's time to do the proofing.

Not the prettiest time of day in the newsroom.

A variety of erections.

We're all stupid today. We had to be here 'til midnight last night to cover the elections - so we are a sleep deprived newsroom. Jeff, however, has just provided us with chocolate, so things may be looking up.

The Supreme Commander isn't even helping. She just sits there and laughs. "I don't know what to tell you," she said with a chuckle. "I'm tired today, and want to get the hell outta here."

Last year, when I was covering the elections with our Japanese intern Takamitsu (I call him Taka-San) he made me crack up when he was explaining elections in Japan. He kept saying "Japanese erections are much different than erections in the United States." I miss Taka-San.