It's mentally and physically exhausting to invest yourself in someone else's business all day long. Especially when you do it for ten to twenty people each day. While advising has its rewards, it can sap you sometimes.

So of course, any kind of social outing is in order during these trying times. And having Becca and Smartens present means it will be nothing but surreal. I had lunch with Smartens and two other coworkers -- I updated her on our candidate search because she and I were on the committee together last time. I asked if she remembered this repeat applicant, and she's like, totally. This person applied immediately after we post the position, as if it was a stimulus-response moment -- to which Smartens says, "I think he prematurely applicated!" We all lost it! Then came the reenactments and the "Oh oh oh jeez!" Can't put a price on humor... But on a serious note, dear readers, there is hope for those who suffer from premature application. You can be the life of the applicant pool again.

My "fiance" Becca got a new license recently, which she showcased to me on the shuttle bus from the parking lot on the edge of known existence to the center of campus. And by the way, we both came in late that day from appointments and happen to show up about 10 till 10 -- pulled into the parking lot at the same time! Coincidence? I think not. Lover's synchrony? You decide. Anywho, I saw that she is an organ donor. We mockingly interlocked fingers and I told her they can't take her heart because she's already given it to me. Don't you just love it!! How randomly awful is that? Man, we're funny. And the scurry part is that there's someone out there who has said that and meant it. Ugh! It's perfick!

Then at a happy hour with all manner of advising folks, I managed to work out a verbal bet with Holster from the Division of Intercollegiate Athletics that if I finish this big ol' plate called the Horseshoe, I'd snag two tickets to a Fighting Illini basketball game (which is near impossible to get unless you are a student or manage to mug/kill a season ticket holder). The horseshoe is basically this big mass of buffalo fried chicken with a huge mound of fries on top, covered with cheese sauce. It's awe and then some! And I managed to eat it all with a Guinness under my belt, I might add. I'll be waiting for those tickets, Holster, so pony up! And then there was this funny slip of the senses where I swear Holster was talking about this guy named Ty Noodle, I kid you not! It was something close to that, but even when he repeated it, I swears it sounded like Thai Noodle. LOVE IT!

As a side note, Becca called me today and I told her the guy who fixed my lawnmower was named Warren, and she said, "Like Warren G?" which is what I was referencing in my mind, but it sounded like she said, "Like Warren Peace?" Isn't that a kickin' rapper name? I think I'll mint that for myself before some playah tries to bizzle my street cred, f'real. Yeah, totally the farthest thing from a rapper, by the way.

Army, AKA Warren Peace


Allie D. said...

Oh god, if that Horseshoe doesn't put a couple pounds on your frame, I'll make sure that upon my death, I donate you a good chunk of my own lipids. I gots plenty to spare. LOL

the fiance said...

Prematurely applicated is easily one of my favorites from this last week of re-honkey-tonk-ga-donkey-donk-ulousness.

Speaking of eagerness, I'm prematurely giddy about the frolf posting. I sent a text message to Hitched telling him we're *totally* frolfing one of the weekends when he comes down here and he sent me back a nervous reply: "Frolf...? Do I need special equipment for that?" I told him what he needs comes in a box of 3 so he'll be covered. Wonder if he's a screamer...