The first person I saw do it was Patrick.

I don't know, maybe he wasn't the first, but he was the first that I remember. After that, I saw Pamie do it every so often, and it always made me laugh outloud. But now that I have read all of Tomato Nation (every word! C'mon, quiz me!), it's become part of my repertoire against my will.

What am I talking about? Why, making five syllable nicknames for strangers, two in the first name, with the second being a "y", and three in the last with the third syllable being either "Mc" or "O", of course!

I hadn't realized it, until I was woken by a roaring motorcycle just sitting in front of my house for like ten minute, and I thought to myself "Are you ever planning on driving that thing somewhere, Noisy McLoudson, or are you just checking for certain that your muffler has been removed cleanly so as not to muffle a single dulcet tone?"

Then, as I lay there, I heard Monty horking enthusiastically in the living room (I am slightly horrified to realize that I can recognize which cat is throwing up without looking--I know their styles), and I thought "Please, Barfy O'Pukemore, I'd rather not have to swim to the bathroom this morning, if I can avoid it."

Later, when I was driving, stuck behind some insane speed limit follower, I said, "C'mon Crawly McSlowpoke, I'd really rather like to get home by Christmas," and that was when I realized that I had a real problem.

What is it, this strange compulsion to call everyone with a sarcastic five syllable Irish nickname? I guess that it must be Sarah McPamPat Disorder. Stop me before I do it again!

So yesterday was a short day at work, when I got there I was told that we could leave at 3p, which means that I could leave at 5p, 'cause I don't get in until 11a.

And when did I leave? 8p! I just had these checks that I really wanted to get out, especially since otherwise they wouldn't have gone anywhere until Tuesday, so I stayed three hours longer than I had to. I feel as though that should count as overtime.

It was a fun day at work, though, because The Raccoon brought her five year old daughter in, and we had a fun time.

At first she was wary around me, but then she happened onto my forte with kids, which is roughhousing and tickling and being loud and extremely silly and working them up into a state of near hysteria, and then handing them back to their parents.

Don't mess with the master.

Whose vocal tics have you picked up?

And we're still talking about looking on disasters as blessings, To Do lists, feeling a great sense of accomplishment, bad movies we love, too much vacation, strange little rituals, making ourselves look younger or older, hypochondriacs, favourite musicals, and the worst remake ever.

Today's horoscope:
Time to bring precision and thoroughness into your thinking and communicating. Organize yourself. Be systematic.

One year ago today:
"Do you know what that means, Molls? It means 'Be a good girl'!"
"To me? That says that to me?!"

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Last Updated Sun 3 September 02:13:09 2000