The French are coming, The French are coming!

Monday I learned from a man wearing an ascot (he wasn't even wearing it ironically) that he now owns me. No not Matt, though he does have a rather nice ascot (thanks Monica). Our little company got acquired by a very large multinational firm that specializes in in vitro diagnostics. Super.

It's all very odd, I've never worked at a company that has been acquired and tensions are understandably quite high. I've spent most of the week pushing the unhappy possibilities out of my mind as I've had bigger more present fish to fry. I instead focused on how exactly to say their very French name without sounding like a total asshole. I think it's working, but honestly I never even took French in high school (I cheated and took Spanish (suckazz!)) so maybe I'll come up with an American friendly nickname like they did for Dice-K. I'm thinking along the lines of Dice-Ru. hrmm...no dice.

I think I'll go ahead and hope that my job doesn't become redundant because their benefits freaking rock. Can anyone say pension?? No you can't because you probably work for an American company! Four weeks vacation, 12 holidays, fully vested 401k! French people are wicked awesome. Sigh.. I'll update my resume this weekend.

Obsession

It happens every once in a while. I'll be skipping trudging walking along (let's not ascribe any particulars to the manner in which that walking is generally done) the winding road of life when out of the corner of my eye I see something in passing that piques my interest. At times it's a shiny bauble that won't be ignored. It stops me in dead in my tracks and demands my attention. Other times it's a small curiosity that I see only because it doesn't belong. The second scenario is generally my favorite because the experience comes with a sense of discovery. The first is usually guaranteed fun.

There is a third scenario though that I don't much like to acknowledge. This one involves a dastardly little creature that sits smack in the center of my path. Its head arrogantly tilted to the side a knowing smile playing on its lips as I approach. The creature assumes my coming infatuation as it has caused it so many times before in countless others. I'm instantly put off by its demeanor my right eyebrow goes up in a doubtful glance I step to the side and walk on by. A little while later the creature will show itself again waiting for acknowledgment or respect and I pass it by again looking back to make sure it doesn't follow. Time and time again I'll pass it by, eventually I just stop stick the thing in a box in an attempt to keep it away from me. But the creature does not stay away and it wears me down. With a sigh I kneel down and give in to a quick pat. It's soft and warm! The creature gloats and begins its siren purr. I've lost and am hardly aware that I've curled myself next to the creature and buried my face in its sweet smelling fur. The creature's collar jingles at my touch and unseen by me Twilight is that persistent creatures name.

(Matt doesn't appreciate it when I bring it home)

I haven't written in a while so Gaby made me post an email I sent out

This song is super catchy, but so wrong. I warn you solemnly: do not watch this video unless you can forgive yourself for laughing at a scene set in an abortion clinic. That is why I have only sent the link to you, my most morally suspect friends.



By the way, Amanda Palmer was a fixture at Harvard Square back when we lived there. She was the living statue usually dressed as a bride. Nice to see a local girl make good.