:: Full Moon Friday ::

Strange day here at the office. 

For starters, for whatever reason, not many people are here today, so it's eerily quiet. The crazy kooks are also out in full force, too. We get a lot of strange, non-sensical emails – often letters – from older folks who are off their meds (seriously) or just plain crazy, and today is no exception... there've been two garden-variety nutso submissions so far, and also one phone call I just overheard. I know the phone call was from a crazy person because my colleague spent the whole conversation politely saying, "uh huh... uh huh... uh huh," followed by "OK, I'm hanging up now... thank you for calling... I'm hanging up... I'm hanging up–" Then click.

All things considered though, this letter from a local high school student was the weirdest thing we came across today. I'm paraphrasing, but here was the gist of it: 

"I have done the physically impossible, and thought you would be interested. I am not double-jointed nor do I have a separated shoulder, but I am able to lick the centre of my own elbow (The outside of it)."

"This is something that cannot be done by anyone, and thought you would like to know."

The letter-writer is right, of course. It is all but impossible to lick the outside of your elbow. Go ahead, try it. (We all did). Impossible.

Just to see what would happen, we emailed back and, in a serious tone, said, "We will need photographic proof of this feat before we consider it newsworthy."

Sure enough, not 10 minutes later we received a camera-phone photo of a teenage high-school girl doing exactly what she said she could do. Of course, this is about the least-newsworthy thing imaginable, so we won't be following up. But the question remains: What in the hell possessed this girl to think this qualified as "news"?

"Must be a full moon tonight," I suggested. "You know, when all the weirdos go crazy."

"Either that," someone else countered. "Or kids have really run out of things to do on Spring Break."

See what happens, school districts? You extend Spring Break by an extra week, and this is what your gifted children spend their time doing. When I was a kid, we had one week off in March and one week only, and never once that I can remember did we ever play the "Let's see what part of my body can touch another part."

Just sayin', is all.

:: Bizarro World ::

First off, an apology.

I'm sorry friends. I truly am. I have caused some of you grief which you did not necessarily deserve, and heartbreak you most certainly did not want. I have wronged you, and I apologize.

You see, it was about 14 months ago that I – somehow, some way, against all odds and the laws of the universe – managed to snag myself a lady friend, and a fantastic one at that (That sound you hear is my stock going up with Christene). But there's been an odd twist over the last little while, too – something that I had not realized until Christene pointed it out earlier this week, during a bit of idle, random conversation.

"Don't you think it's weird that ever since you got a girlfriend, a lot of your friends' relationships haven't worked out?" she asked.

I had never realized it, but she was right. I mean, not to pick at old wounds or anything, but first there was Sean and Rach; then Ian and Bre; and then in an unexpected twist, my buddy Jay split with his wife. And if the gossip mongers are to be trusted (and if you can't trust them, who can you trust?) there has been the odd close call elsewhere as well, which is really none of anybody's business, but is out there nonetheless. Thankfully, each situation seems to have worked out for the best, which eases my guilt ever-so-slightly.

But it's still like bizarro world out there. Up is down, left is right, hamburgers eat people. Nick gets a girlfriend. Everybody else breaks up.

I feel a tinge of guilt, sure. In fact, to quote Bart Simpson after he cruelly sets up Mrs. Krabappel on a blind date with Gordie Howe/Woodrow (who does not exist), "I can't help but feel partly responsible."

I mean, had I known that my happiness would have upset the logical order of things as much as it has... I probably still would have done it. Yeah, I definitely would've still done it.

But I'd feel guilty as hell.

And for those of you out there still together and happy with your significant others, I applaud your resilience.

But be warned: The universe is pissed.

:: A real jerk (that isn't me for a change) ::

My company's office is on the second floor of a building we share with other companies. It's a new building, and therefore, not all the available space is leased yet. Our office is on one side of the building, and the bathrooms are on the complete other side, down a fairly long hallway.

On the walk from our office door to the bathroom, you pass one of the large unoccupied spaces – it looks like a huge unfinished basement. No doors, either. Because it's not being leased, this space serves as a storage unit of sorts – the contractors and construction guys sometimes store things there, and we also keep two large blue recycling bins in there, too. About three weeks ago, I noticed that two Tim Horton's cups were sitting on the floor next to one of the blue bins.

There they sat on the floor for days and days. Nobody goes in that room, so they were undisturbed. I just assumed they were empty paper cups. No big deal. Then this morning, I happened to glance at them as I passed, and they were both tipped over. Coffee had spilled everywhere – I guess they weren't empty after all.

The only reason this is even vaguely interesting is because, in order for these cups to spill, somebody would have had to walk into this room and kick or knock them over intentionally. Nothing else in this room has changed, and nobody has been in it for days. And the cups certainly wouldn't fall over on their own – there's no wind and they weren't perched precariously on a ledge. They were on the floor.

Now, this isn't exactly the world's biggest problem. Nobody owns or leases that space. Nothing was ruined. It's about the most inconsequential thing to have happened today, probably. But my point is still that somebody willfully decided to walk in and kick over a couple of three-week old coffee cups.

Maybe there's a ghost in the building. Or maybe the asshole population of this place extends beyond me, after all. Who knew?

:: Adventures in Text Messaging ::

Minutes ago, my office phone rang. I picked it up, and instantly heard a recorded message. The pleasant-sounding robo-voice told me that I had received a text-message from a Rogers Wireless customer. This was weird, because not a lot of people have my work number, and those that do are not likely to send me a text message.

But I pushed 1 anyway, to listen to the message, and then the Stephen Hawking-esque voice told relayed to me the following message:

"I once sliced a piece of deli meat so thin it was invisible."

This is the text message some random person – with a number I didn't recognize – deemed necessary to send to my desk. I was baffled, to say the least.

I instantly began trying to figure out who this message-sender was, and my first suspect was Mike (as it usually is when weird, random things happen). Also, years ago he sent a voice/text message to my house at Christmas time.

I then Googled the phrase, to see if it was some long-lost quote or inside joke from our Kamloops days. I thought maybe it was from Space Ghost, or Strong Bad, or something similar. The search came up empty though.

I then realize the number was 604 area code, so Mike was quickly ruled out.

Turns out it's actually a Seinfeld quote – when Kramer gets the meat slicer. And after quickly scrolling through the numbers in my cell phone, the culprit was, in hindsight, a likely one:

Kyle. I should've known.

"Oh, that was meant for your cell phone," was his response.

Ya think?