August 5th, 2004

[fades] browns and reds

(no subject)

There is a cowboy wandering around the office.

We're having a company picnic next weekend. I fear it. I fear that it is at a ranch, and there are horses, and people wearing large hats, and hay-scrambles and horseshoe tosses and the distinct possibility of a tug-of-war.

It's not so much that I dislike these things--except for the large hats, and I can't qualitatively judge a hay-scramble, it largely depends on who is buried in the hay--mostly, it's being away from my territory, with people trying to goad me into being cheerful. The radioactive heat's going to be a downer.

I can pretend to be one of those people that "has fun," but it's going to be a bitch pretending to be one of those people who "has fun" at an event where the staff is conspicuously dressed as cowboys, and periodically emits "yeehah" noises.

So, as social protest, I'm going to be following the cowboy around and forming the letter "Y". If I can get two other people to help with the rest of the letters, maybe he'll depart in shame.

In planning this, I did notice that my company name has the same rhthym, stress and syllable count as "YMCA," and I'm wondering if I can do something with that.