Left of the Dial

things I never thought I'd hear #739942

“You know how people always say, eat the frog first?“

...no! No, I don’t.

 

 

 

venus v mars

I feel like this true story sums up the yin-yang of our dynamic fairly succinctly. 

 

Me: I think I'm going to hang a TODAY IS GOING TO BE AWESOME sign where it's the first thing we'll see every day @petersonscott: Funny you should say that. I set a daily Slack reminder that says REMEMBER YOU'RE GOING TO DIE

— Melissa Wiley (@melissawiley) February 8, 2020

haunted by taters of turkey day past

So I casually mention some foodstuff, and Top Management's eyes grow misty. "Oh, Marge and I used to get that all the time," she says, referring to her college roommate and eventual maid of honor. "It was her absolute favorite." 

"Really? I thought her favorite was your leftover mashed potatoes," I say, showing off my encyclopedic knowledge of her culinary history by referring to the one and only tiff they'd ever had, when Top Management had returned to their dorm room, famished, only to discover the Thanksgiving leftovers she'd brought back to school had been finished while she was in her Men's Images in Literature class. (Yes, really.) 

Eyes which had been misty only milliseconds before grow suddenly hard as diamond at the mention of that tuberous betrayal from [does some quick math] literally 32 years ago. "Too soon," she whispers menacingly. "Too soon." 

For Once in My Death

So I'm drinking my first morning cuppa, chatting with the Bean and the Golden Weasel, the morning playlist brightening up another rainy winter day here in the Pacific Northwest. 

"For Once in My Life," by the impossibly great Stevie Wonder comes on, and I realize that whenever someone asks me what my favorite song is—something that, I recently realized, doesn't happen nearly as often once you're out of school—this masterpiece never occurs to me, and yet when it's playing, it just may be my all-time fave. 

(I mean. Right?) 

A few minutes later, I mention this revelation to Top Management. She gets a look on her face. I mean, she's always got a look on her face, but this one...this one's different. 

"What?" I ask. "I've told you that before? I've told you that before, probably, haven't I?" 

She starts laughing. "Since 1989," she says slowly, "That's the song I've been planning to play at your memorial."