Raoul Goes Goth and Why Politicians Are Responsible for a New Psychological Condition: FemRage

In honor of Halloween, Raoul is sporting a new look.

In other news, I have decided not to murder my family today, but only because it would require more energy than I'm willing to expend on non-essentials. 

AND

 



If one more male politician talks about rape without documented proof that he has, in fact, been raped and been left pregnant by that rape, I may just be forced to unleash my awesome powers and start a revolution that has only one aim:  abolish the United States legislature in it's entirety and replace it with kindergarten focus groups (because at least they have some sense at that age).  If anyone wants to prepare for the inevitable (because these men just don't know when to shut up), gather your wire coat hangers and a good supply of Twizzlers.  We'll lure them with candy and poke them until they run home to their mommies.



In Which We Lunch With Connor P. Banker

At the risk of parental overshare, I had lunch with my 4 year old son, my 24 year old son, his new girl "friend" (apparently they are dating but he introduces her as his friend.  The last time I dated someone, he introduced me as Grandma, so I'm not disparaging, just confused.  And yes, I married him and yes, I should have known better) and my husband.  Connor, who has been here many times since his birth, is completely comfortable at the office, but in the food court, he had questions.  "Why are there so many people?" "They're students, they go to school here."  "This isn't a school, it's WORK!"
Then he ate a cheese pizza, drank a green slushy and forgot all about it.  In the meantime, M's new "friend" was slightly embarassed (I love that in a new "friend", the bold ones scare me) at our scrutiny, M was normal and P was...well, I can't honestly say normal about my husband.  Let's just say P was P.

 

Connor P. Banker, but not at the food court.  They rake the food court leaves once a day.  I think.  I would, personally, but maybe they do it more often. 

In Raoul news, today Raoul is sporting a breast cancer awareness necklace.  Because Raoul cares about breast cancer and wants it wiped out.  Now.  Today.  We've been told that he would prefer being misted daily, so I'm off after work to find a spray bottle and, hopefully, a more attractive pot.  Green just isn't his color. 

Raoul Update: Raoul Gets a Pedestal

Because we haven't anthropomorphized this poor plant enough, we have now placed him on a pedestal in the front office, discovered that he was born with the name Ralph but changed it to Raoul when he came out, and picked up the results of his little accident (leaves on the floor; I attribute it to stress, not lack of training).

Picture and pedestal courtesy of Cheerful S.

 

 

 

ALSO:

 

Just read this great blog that my sister sent me and it is so right AND so frigging honest I'm going to print it off and keep a copy in my purse.

 

 

http://www.danoah.com/2012/10/16-ways-i-blew-my-marriage.html

 

 



Raoul the Boston Fern Moves In

Today someone offered a free Boston fern on the employee email list.  I ignored my proven history of failure with houseplants and decided the office needed a Boston fern as much as we need a printer and a copier.  So he is now sitting on an unused desk waiting for a new pot and a pedestal.  Cheerful S. has offered the pedestal, I will supply the pot.  And he has been gifted with the name Raoul.
Lest anyone wonder why I've named a Boston fern Raoul, let me destroy all expectations: there is no good story behind Raoul's name, it just seemed like a good idea at the time and is now irrevocable.  I'm sure all names seem like a good idea when they are bestowed.  Cheerful S. suggested Boston Rob after the over-exposed Survivor contestant, but it was too late.  He is Raoul.  And he is a big, beautiful, healthy looking plant.  Between us, we might keep him going for a while, Cheerful S. and I.
This is a warning to all you people who give away pets and plants and other items to strangers:  you never know who this person really is and to what nefarious purpose they might intend your donation.  Perhaps the cat will be the main attraction at a cat vs. hippo fight staged by steampunk activists who want monkey bars to be outlawed.  Or your Boston fern will be used to start a blog about all the things I can't induce anyone in real life to care about.

Raoul at the office.

 

 

Added note:  Before I left on my break, I asked Cheerful S. to take a picture of Raoul.  Apparently she and Raoul (and other co-workers) had a party in my absence.  Subtitles and pictures courtesy of Cheerful S.

 

Raoul busy making copies for D.

 

 

Raoul deserves a coffee break.

 

Raoul filing for R.

 

Raoul having to pick up the slack for D.

 

Raoul holds important staff meeting.

 

Raoul looking good at work.

 

 

Office romance.