Overgrown kids
Aug. 12th, 2004 11:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xaaraEveryone must read "Mama Makes Up Her Mind" by Bailey White. You may not talk to me again before you have read this book. You will laugh until you cry, I promise you.
Another thing that made me laugh until I cried: Paleoentomology feuds. I mean, we're talking grown men here, refusing to lend each other samples, specimens, or data, all because of grudges that have been held since the beginning of recorded time. Today, for example, my boss finally received an amber specimen that he's been requesting for almost four years.
"Why did it take so long?" I hear you ask.
Well, apparently, the owner of the amber was writing papers on Dominican Amber, as was a colleague of his. Their identifications and descriptions began to overlap, so instead of working out a compromise like normal schoolchildren, they insisted on stepping all over each others' toes. Naturally, this led to Bad Feelings Which Persist for Ages.
So my boss writes a non-amber-related paper with the second guy, publishes it, and then - get this: years later - asks for a scientifically important specimen from the first. But nooooo, The Grudge must remain in place or the world might spontaneously cease to rotate.
(Side Note: At this point in the story, I had rolled my eyes precisely nine times. By the time the story was over, I had an eye-rolling headache. It's a well-documented overuse injury that results from excessive stimulation of the muscles employed in expressions of sarcastic incredulity.)
Four years pass, and my boss asks for the specimen on a more or less bimonthly basis. Enough excuses to fill a small encyclopedia are all that the other man returns. Finally, for reasons known only to greater powers, my boss' boss intervenes, sends a letter (which he doesn't let my boss see), and gets the specimen.
You'd think that highly intelligent scientists with multiple degrees could find something better to do with their time than acting like physically mature nine-year-olds.
<<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>>
33 - Nine Words Probably Not Ever Found in Personal Ads
Xander, Post-Chosen
Okay, personals? I'll admit it – they're pretty shameless. They go into all sorts of "I can't find a girl to save my life" territory, which is just about the biggest turnoff for other girls that I could find.
So yeah, Xander's pathetic. And the worst part is, I can't even think of what to write on the damn thing. "SWM looking for outspoken woman with whom to share good times?" Or maybe a simple "SWM looking for...."
Looking for what?
God, Anya, I miss you.
I know what I can't say:
I should have married you. Will you forgive me?
<<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>>
34 - Some Reasons I've been Fired
Faith/Spike, No particular season
"You have a very...strong personality," my boss tells me right before he shows me the door.
No shit I have a strong personality. Too strong for the last boss who saw me slaying and handed me my week's pay and a get out of town warning the next day.
Too strong for the gym owner who made me pay for breaking his punching bag and then dumped me.
~
He's waiting outside like always, fingers shoved into the pockets of his coat, that fucking smirk on his face.
He wags one thumb in the direction of his motorcycle. "Fancy a ride?"
Another thing that made me laugh until I cried: Paleoentomology feuds. I mean, we're talking grown men here, refusing to lend each other samples, specimens, or data, all because of grudges that have been held since the beginning of recorded time. Today, for example, my boss finally received an amber specimen that he's been requesting for almost four years.
"Why did it take so long?" I hear you ask.
Well, apparently, the owner of the amber was writing papers on Dominican Amber, as was a colleague of his. Their identifications and descriptions began to overlap, so instead of working out a compromise like normal schoolchildren, they insisted on stepping all over each others' toes. Naturally, this led to Bad Feelings Which Persist for Ages.
So my boss writes a non-amber-related paper with the second guy, publishes it, and then - get this: years later - asks for a scientifically important specimen from the first. But nooooo, The Grudge must remain in place or the world might spontaneously cease to rotate.
(Side Note: At this point in the story, I had rolled my eyes precisely nine times. By the time the story was over, I had an eye-rolling headache. It's a well-documented overuse injury that results from excessive stimulation of the muscles employed in expressions of sarcastic incredulity.)
Four years pass, and my boss asks for the specimen on a more or less bimonthly basis. Enough excuses to fill a small encyclopedia are all that the other man returns. Finally, for reasons known only to greater powers, my boss' boss intervenes, sends a letter (which he doesn't let my boss see), and gets the specimen.
You'd think that highly intelligent scientists with multiple degrees could find something better to do with their time than acting like physically mature nine-year-olds.
<<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>>
33 - Nine Words Probably Not Ever Found in Personal Ads
Xander, Post-Chosen
Okay, personals? I'll admit it – they're pretty shameless. They go into all sorts of "I can't find a girl to save my life" territory, which is just about the biggest turnoff for other girls that I could find.
So yeah, Xander's pathetic. And the worst part is, I can't even think of what to write on the damn thing. "SWM looking for outspoken woman with whom to share good times?" Or maybe a simple "SWM looking for...."
Looking for what?
God, Anya, I miss you.
I know what I can't say:
I should have married you. Will you forgive me?
<<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>>
34 - Some Reasons I've been Fired
Faith/Spike, No particular season
"You have a very...strong personality," my boss tells me right before he shows me the door.
No shit I have a strong personality. Too strong for the last boss who saw me slaying and handed me my week's pay and a get out of town warning the next day.
Too strong for the gym owner who made me pay for breaking his punching bag and then dumped me.
He's waiting outside like always, fingers shoved into the pockets of his coat, that fucking smirk on his face.
He wags one thumb in the direction of his motorcycle. "Fancy a ride?"
