A Little State Government Satire

Passing thoughts as I breezed past this hanging in the back hall of my office building today...

1. Our office complex offers Weight Management Classes? They don't seem to be working. Perhaps that's why they've begun.
2. Why wasn't I invited? What else am I not being told about? I came upon a fry bread sale the other day, and they were sold out by the time I hit up enough colleagues for change.
3. Given that the time period in which this was posted (lunch hour), I'm highly skeptical of its success.
4. I deem the fourth floor to be quite the wise selection. Had they chosen the eleventh, it'd have been a moot point and they may as well have kept it on the first since everybody would have taken the elevator. But the fourth... the fourth is within stair travel reach.

And, against all odds...

5. Finally, state government (even if in this single instance) has started to think a bit like me. A little bit of proactive + a little bit of twisted irony.
 

Desert Catclaw Bush - 1. RB - 0.

Behold the frightening aftereffects of this weekend's hike in Northern Arizona. A group of us ventured to a section of the Arizona Trail to complete a project put on for the Arizona Centennial. The goal was to get groups to hike the entire Arizona Trail (which spans from Mexico to Utah), and clearly... our section was the most dangerous. As if hiking nearly 17 miles in elevation  at 90 degrees isn't strenuous enough, the desert "catclaw" acacia was sure to leave its mark on any hiker to cross its path, including me.














It looks... like I've been tortured, whipped, human trafficked and yet somehow, miraculously made it out alive. These plants produce quarter-inch thorns that curve back in the shape of a cat's claw and upon contact - mean serious business. And if photo evidence doesn't prove it already, all reports I've found on this psycho desert plant report the shrub's tendencies to grip onto anything that comes into contact with it, and essentially not let go. Other common names include the "devil's claw" and "wait-a-minute tree," since individuals are advised to pause and - wait a minute - after being struck to remove the thorns from your flesh.

Yep... sounds about right.

Stay away from the catclaw, people. Stay far away.

Oh, and by the way - we finished our 17 mile hike in 8 hours (take that, catclaw), built some pretty sweet cairns (a welcome new term to my vocabulary), and managed to get sun burned only on the backside of our necks. Actually, I got burned on the backside of my neck, making me... that's right... a redneck. I guess you can't hide it forever.

Weekend Edition Sunday (NPR is taking over my life)

This week has been full of liveliness, "firsts" and in proper downtown Phoenix fashion, full of some serious insanity. In between it all, I've been plugged into every show NPR has to offer, tuned into my lady podcasters (Stuff Mom Never Told You. If you haven't listened, give it a go here), and of course... to the brilliant and talented Delilah (she has a new app, people). This week's roundup:

• I've moved beyond just drinking wine, to actually racing for it. A few of my fellow coworkers and I participated in a 5K near Sedona called the "Great Arizona Wine Stomp." Not only was I duped into wearing all purple - "It'll be fun, we can be the 'grape' team" they told me - but it also turned out, we didn't actually get to stomp grapes. A fun time nonetheless, and also the first formal run I actually raced instead of just attempting to finish. 
• Two shiny new obsessions have presented themselves. The first, a song called "Home" which makes actual mention to my home and seems to be hand crafted for the whistler in us all. The second, the movie "Bridesmaids," which makes no mention to Arkansas, but which is just so priceless. Don't let the name fool you.
• The war against the mouse persists, and I continue to insist upon entering rooms in the house only after first announcing my presence loudly (typically by launching my keys into the room, or stomping, knocking, or clapping. The scene itself would prove plenty to give fright to any rodent.). Perhaps due to my eccentric behavior, or the piles of poison placed in each corner, or the sheer feeling of being so blatantly unwelcome, there's been no sight of the little guy. I did, however, come upon a mouse-looking bug while mopping the floor on my hands and knees. Suspicious indeed. 
• Keeping to my regular dosage of patio time, I was witness to the first bizarre behavior since the Untimely Men in Black. See previous post. It was a quiet day on the street and a homeless-looking man on bicycle crept into my line of sight, stopping upon a blossoming flower bush across the street. I expected him to smell it, or maybe shrug and then keep on his way, but instead, he looked angrily at the flowers, and proceeded to pluck each of them violently with his filthy hands from their proper stem. When he was finished his Edward Scissor Hands act, his feet and clothing adorned with red and purple petals, he advanced to the next bush and performed the exact same act. By the time he had successfully deflowered the entire lot, he saddled back on his bicycle, and rode away into the desert sunset. Perplexed, terrified and intrigued by the entire scenario, I said nothing.
• The door has officially been opened to books on tape. Well, books on iPhone. I'm not entirely sure if "The Red Queen" - a semi-historical account of the life of Lady Margaret Beaufort, mother of King Henry VII - is the best way to get my feet wet, but thus far, it's earning massive multitasking points for accompanying me on several runs, errands and household chores thus far.
• Turns out, work is much more enjoyable when an angry she-devil doesn't work there anymore. Shwing!
• I also received one of the most entertaining videos, courtesy of mom and dad which sums up the week quite nicely. Kids, do not try this at home - must be an Arkansas redneck to partake in: