What Not To Do With Found Objects

Actual conversation that occurred immediately prior to an event doing a pre-event trash sweep in the venue:

Me (running up in a tizzy): guys! GUYS! GUYTH. Look what I found in the floor of the auditorium!!

Bewildered co-worker #1: Softcup? Is it a bra?

Me: No! It is a tampon. OF THE FUTURE.

Bewilderded co-workers #1 and #2: (bewildered silence)

Me: Ever hear of those Diva Cup things? It's like those, but you throw it out after you use it instead of washing it out at night.

Bewilderded co-workers #1 and #2: (continued bewildered silence)

Me: You know? Diva Cup? You put it inside you when you have your period and it catches all the blood then you just rinse it out? This is just like this but, it's disposable! Someone must have been giving out samples at the UC 'cause there were two of them on the floor together. See? These are meant to be thrown away. Kind of defies the logic in my mind though... I wonder how these work? Oooh! Look! (opening package) Directions!

Bewildered co-worker #2 (finally rousing): Please don't put something you found on the floor of the auditorium inside your body.

I really can't argue with that kind of logic.

THE FUTURE IS HERE.

Can be worn while participating in activities such as sports, swimming, sleeping and sex. Because I want to do all those things when having my period. AT THE SAME TIME. Talk about a busy life...

"Victory is Mine," sayeth JoAnne Deeken

Work recently featured an interesting holiday party. In an effort to be PC the party was named the Chili and Mac and Cheese End of Semester Winter Extravaganza, and it featured a friendly chili/mac and cheese cookoff. Seperate. Not together. Because that would be gross.

I was mildly interested in participating, mostly because I like chili. And mac and cheese, I AM NOT MADE OF STONE. I was especially, distinctly, much more interested when I found out what the prize for the contest was.

a novelty size box of chocolates.

I got so excited that I even made a pot of chili AND mac and cheese to double my odds of winning. Seriously - 84 pieces of candy, all mapped out in Whitman-style. There was even a report that there were two layers of chocolates just like the itty bitty (pfft) boxes you can buy in the Walgreen's. I'll have none of that diminuitivity, thank you.

So... imagine my disappointment to have to conceed defeat to JoAnne Deeken's mac and cheese prowess. Bacon was involved. DAMN YOU, BACON. (And PS, Benny Smith, why do you think you were invited to be a judge in the contest?! NEPOTISM, Benny; look into it.)

so, so sad.

But I still have the Christmas spirit, see? Check out the festive candy cane!

JoAnne was kind enough to leave the ginormous box of chocolates at work and three or four times I would slip downstairs to follow the larger-than-life-Whitman-map and steer my way clear of orange cremes and cherry cordials to find the caramel and nougat chews. (I am a picky eater with a discerning palate, I AM. I ate a bourbon ball on a dare this holiday season and it made my eyes water.)

And... just like that... the box of chocolates was gone.

I still keep looking for it. I still trip into JoAnne's office daily hoping the double layer would regenerate in a starfish-esque way and provide me with a Christmas miracle. She felt bad for me today and gave me a chocolate out of her desk drawer to try and drown my sorrows. Thanks, JoAnne... but it's just no double layer novelty size Whitman's sampler.

There's always next year.