Butter Face

Last night I dreamt of white cake with vanilla buttercream icing. In my dream, my Dad ('cause he's cool like that) took me on the hunt for the perfect cake. We didn't find it, but ate many while searching for the one I wanted. My Dad, of course, made the infallible choice of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. I chose nothing and awoke full of dream cake and longing. Now, in my waking hours, I feel like I'm still searching for my perfect slice.

This is not a metaphor. I just want a piece of cake.

Of Leaf Blowers and Hand-Grenades

One of my clients called and yelled at me this morning after he had made a mistake and I had told him I wasn't sure that I could fix it. After we hung up the phone, I stormed outside to get some air. The lawn service was there, blowing newly mowed grass off the sidewalk. I wondered if one of the guys would let me use his leaf blower, and I considered taking it to my client's office and attacking him with it. Why a leaf blower, you ask? A leaf blower lends a lot of power without actually being harmful. Wielding a leaf blower in a moment of anger also says, "You don't want to play the crazy game with me. I WILL win."

Is it really possible to know someone through a series of tweets, chirps, blurbs and blips?