Charlie Brown Christmas
The Cyrus Chestnut Charlie Brown Christmas CD is pretty wicked. I'm describing a Christmas carol album as "wicked." Uh oh.
But really, it's quite good.
~~~
Today was the staff Christmas luncheon. Very enjoyable all around with minced pies, turkey, stew, quiche, pastas, fruit, dry white wine, red wine, splashes of martinis and glasses of Cosmopolitans that we--the entire college faculty--swilled and swallowed with violent, red-faced passion.
Then we staggered up the steps, plastered across the banisters, to finish helping prospective students with their applications and their futures. We drooped like heroin addicts and dispensed invaluable advice like "a good portfolio must show us how you think!" And then we sat in the office all heavy-lidded and licked the glue off of envelopes we were supposed to be stuffing with information.
I mean, is there anything wrong with this picture?
~~~
In the lower parking garage is a giant storage room we call the cage. It's this drafty spit-and-bailing wire type of construct assembled in the south west corner of the garage, where the various college offices keep extra boxes of prospectuses and directories and whatnot.
I was walking down there with a coworker--very sweet English girl--to pick up a box of somesuch. As we're walking, she says, "Ooh, I'm going to lock you up in there for the rest of the week because you've been naughty."
Kinky.
But really, it's quite good.
~~~
Today was the staff Christmas luncheon. Very enjoyable all around with minced pies, turkey, stew, quiche, pastas, fruit, dry white wine, red wine, splashes of martinis and glasses of Cosmopolitans that we--the entire college faculty--swilled and swallowed with violent, red-faced passion.
Then we staggered up the steps, plastered across the banisters, to finish helping prospective students with their applications and their futures. We drooped like heroin addicts and dispensed invaluable advice like "a good portfolio must show us how you think!" And then we sat in the office all heavy-lidded and licked the glue off of envelopes we were supposed to be stuffing with information.
I mean, is there anything wrong with this picture?
~~~
In the lower parking garage is a giant storage room we call the cage. It's this drafty spit-and-bailing wire type of construct assembled in the south west corner of the garage, where the various college offices keep extra boxes of prospectuses and directories and whatnot.
I was walking down there with a coworker--very sweet English girl--to pick up a box of somesuch. As we're walking, she says, "Ooh, I'm going to lock you up in there for the rest of the week because you've been naughty."
Kinky.
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