Yeah, what's a sweat bee?

Eight years! Eight years! (You know you wanted to say it, man.)

Civility and rational argument. What a concept. Er, I do wish you the best with that.

Oh my god, I'm seriously having an Obamagasm here. Calling people on their bullshit. Correcting the record when questions come packaged with faulty assumptions. I never knew it could be like this!

I can't believe making it to adulthood without being stung.

I know, right? But I did. Can't say much for the experience. Don't think my life was lacking it before.

ION, my coworker came into my office this afternoon and asked if I was crying, and I had to confess to being moved by the latest Improv Everywhere dealie. [link]

I've been stung by bees twice. One on the finger when it crawled into my baseball mitt. Okay, actually now I recall that was a yellowjacket.

Once in my side when I was shirtless at a picnic. Quite painful!

The thing about bee stings is that they hurt just as bad after an hour as they did on the initial sting.

ita! Liese! (since you're both in the house) Did you see this article? Punching Back Against Despair on the High Plains

A sweat bee?...actually, I couldn't really tell you, that's just what my relatives called them. Apparently, they don't hurt too bad when they sting you. It's not like a honeybee?

That's neat. Positive and unexpected is always a good thing. It's like the Purple Tunnel of Doom people bursting into Lean on Me. In the daily trudge onward, it can be the simplest thing. Honestly, it is why I try to smile at strangers and be ridiculously friendly to fellow line people and cashiers even though it really isn't my natural state. If I'm the one nice person that day....though I still yelled "SMALL PEOPLE" at the guy who tried to cut in line at the carwash and then argue it was his right. (And, um, I may have flipped him off, but I'm rather ashamed of that.) My instincts are very less than perfect.

My co-worker is moonlighting at the local mega-market and says this is their top-selling week of the year, which really suprised me given all the food prep that goes in Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Fourth of July. I guess the media have done their job well with the "You must buy expensive gifts for Valentine's Day or YOU WILL DIE ALONE!" message.

Interesting. Valentine's Day didn't even occur to me.

I love the idea of a workplace where every alternate Wednesday the staff gathers and they serve cupcakes and release puppies into the conference room. Sort of puppy bowl + cupcakes.

This kind of was our workplace until recently.

The puppies would be magical non-allergic, non-peeing and non-pooping puppies, and the cupcakes would be incredible.

This is the part that didn't happen so much, and is why it is now "was." Cupcakes are still good though.

Aww, Jesse, that was sweet! But I bet Rob's hand hurt loads afterwards. And those other sign people couldn't lift their arms again for several days.