Response to an open letter

I got a response from my spider acquaintance. This letter was written in a spider web. (I tried to take a picture of it, but the flash made it unreadable.)

Dear Jane,

Everyday you destroy my home worse than Hurricane Katrina. Of course I don't want to be your friend. I know where you live, I know where you sleep. This I promise you, I will get even.

Vengeful Spider,
~Bridget

So the spider's name is Bridget, and she's pissed... I think it's time for me to go away on vacation. Off to Colorado I go! See ya in a few days when the exterminator has gassed my apartment.

Love your pets, love your plushies.

Yesterday Mr. J blogged about the time he cheated on me with a care bear. I didn't know we had reached the stage in healing our relationship where we could talk about it, much less blog about it. But he feels we have so while he talks about his new fetish for all things fluffy here, I'd like to shed some light on sensitive topic.

Stuffed animal abuse. We've all heard about it. But have we done anything about it? It can be as innocent as a child throwing her beloved stuffed pony onto the bed in a hurried motion to clean her room before her parents get out the wooden spoon. Or an older sibling allows the family dog to rip off a stuffed bunny's ear. But it get worse than that. As these abusers become older, and more callus, they decide that they no longer need or want their stuffed animals. And so sell them into slavery at garage sales, as if these animals are possessions instead of family members. Or they are donated to toy drive for someone else to love, like a junkie mother leaving her babies in the woods not caring if they starve to death or get eaten by bears.

These are all forms of stuffed animal abuse. And if you see it, please speak up! These sweet stuffed creatures can't speak for themselves. If you see a plushie being smacked around, report it to the proper authorities. (Unless it's a consensual session of S&M plushie activities. Like the one shown above. Don't forget your safety word!)

How awesome is it that I didn't have to take that picture, but found it on Google!

So tell me, what would think if I made a new banner for my blog? Got rid of my Jack Skellington head sculpture, and updated it with something that looks a lot like this picture to the left.

Not my left, your left.

It's still in a very early stage, but let me know what you think!

Breaking the rules and writing about work.

The work week is nearing a close. (Happy Friday Eve!) And you may be wondering what I have been doing all week in my cubicle, when not pretending to work. Decorating my cubicle buddy's side of the cubicle while he's on vacation!

I didn't post-it note his chair. After all, I don't want to be mean!


And a shot of me, to prove that I didn't just steal these from some other website.

Mark the Mozzarella Stick Man

More, probably better, posts are coming. About what I did during Discovery Channel's Shark week, how it changed the lives of those living in Casa de Rising Sun, and maybe an ode to my hair cut. But for now, you're just going to have to settle with Mark. The Mozzarella Stick Man.

This is Mark. He's a cheese stick.


Mark is a fun guy. See him dance?


But Mark is very clumsy.


I miss Mark.


Mark's grieving widow and three children.

The weekend that the internet forgot.

Last week I did the unthinkable. I went 6 days without logging on the internet. It wasn't willingly either, but it had to be done. I had to survive 6 days without checking my e-mail, my bank account, or even my comments on myspace.

I got bored, I got goofy, I even began crafting projects out of my cat's shedding fur... but I think my favorite accomplishment of the almost week was this.

I'm glad to have the computer back, I missed you all.

An Open Letter to the Spider Outside My Apartment

Spidey,

Every day we have the same routine. I leave for work while you hide in the bushes. I work diligently in my cubicle, and you weave an elaborate web to catch food. No one notices all the work I get done, and your silk is so thin that it can't been seen with the naked eye. We have a lot in common. We should be friends.

So why then, do you insist on building your web on the front steps every day? I unknowingly walk through it, and get it tangled on my web... bringing you with me. You crawl up my leg, I scream like Jamie Lee Curtis' in her early movies. This is not how friends treat each other.

Can we start our relationship over?

Your hopeful friend,
Suicidal Jane