Things that happened today

Sometimes things completely unexpected will happen to you; some are lovely, some not so much. Several things of relative note happened to me today; you may or may not find them interesting/mildy diverting.

First things first: A bloody massive striped monstrosity dive-bombed me in the office this morning (it was not, you'll be glad to hear, a murderous emo attached to a length of bungee rope). There I was, all zoned out in my proof-reading coma, when this massive thing just … well, it just came at me! I'm loathe to call it a bee, because it was about the size of a sparrow. I suppose it could've been one of those much-vaunted 'super-wasps' the Daily Mail is always going on about, but I saw no evidence of it trying to dissolve me with heat vision, nor was there a crashed rocket ship from a doomed planet parked up outside the office.

That being the case, I can only assume it was some kind of genetic abberation, a bit like Chunk from The Goonies or Suri Cruise.

Not having time to capture it on film, I produced a detailed autistic rendering of the creature:

Despite appearances, I did not tattoo this illustration on human flesh; it's actually on a big post-it note, but the colours went funny. But yes, what you're thinking is correct - the monster was packing heat.

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Met Yaz for a coffee-based lunch at, er, lunchtime, which was going swimmingly until - ugh! - an almighty hair flopped across my face. My first thought was that my hairdresser had been playing a cruel, cruel trick on me, and had purposely not been cutting one single, specific hair each time I've been recently so that it grew and grew and grew to immense and ridiculous proportions. But as I clawed at my face to pull it away, I glanced up and realised that the woman at the next table had been giving her hair the ol' 'just walked out of a salon' shake while she flirted with some guy, and the wind had blown a stray hair over (we were sitting outside). I scowled at her, and scattered the offending lock to the wind.

But blow me down if she didn't do it again a minute later. This was even worse though, because this one was frizzy and had a split end. She looked at me again, and basically shrugged her shoulders as if to say "not my problem."

I was *this* close to telling her to go get her skanky, alopecia-riddled bird's nest hair sorted.

*snaps*

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Everyone likes to hear how much they're loved, and a raving egomanic like me is no different. Today, though, I was particularly touched*. Some of my workmates have started an online petition to make me join Facebook. An online petition for me? Pour moi!? I was so touched by this, in fact, that the answer was still no. I did, however, invite the orchestrator of the petition to come be my MySpace friend at www.myspace.com/sparkytim (Autumn Reeser, still *ahem* pending, I note…).

I was a little upset a short time later, though, to actually look at the petition (it's open to non-Facebook members) to find that only five people have signed it, one of which I don't know, although she seems delightful and has a very exciting futuristic-sounding name. So I turned to my colleague BSH and told him that if they could reach 30 signatures I'd join up; but as he turned to his keyboard and started furiously tapping out what I can only assume was some rousing call to arms, I raised the stakes to 50. Thirty's probably within the realm of possibility, you see.

What's also annoying is the fact that someone on Facebook is calling themself 'Sparky Timmy,' which has led BSH to think that it might actually be me. Despite my protests to the contrary, BSH isn't totally convinced, and has apparently been using the Facebook 'poke' function on my unsuspecting doppleganger. Not being too clued up on the whole Facebook thing, I'm not sure if 'poking' is as overtly sexual as it sounds, but either way this dude is probably black and blue from being poked by a complete stranger.


*But not in a special, sexual, or inappropriate way**.
**More's the pity.