sticky.art

October 31st, 2002

Karen–the woman who sits next to me at work–brought her two daughters in
to Trick-or-Treat at work today. I’m not sure if they like me or not. Here are
the notes they plastered all over my monitor before they left:








Everybody, including Karen, is fairly certain that that’s a “u”….

But what’s this “at you” stuff? Some sort of NorthEastern Pennsylvania
pre-teen argot that I’ve missed out on?

Oh, how old are they? Well, I asked what grade they were in, and they
weren’t too pleased that I couldn’t remember from the last time I asked
(it could a been a few months or a year or a couple of days, knowing me).
The oldest responded “fourth grade” and I said “great” remembering when I
was in fourth grade and got the chicken pox (unless I’m confusing it with
third grade?) and then she giggled and said “sixth grade” “eight grade”
“twelfth grade” and finally shrieked out “twentieth grade.”

I suppose I wasn’t generating much confidence as I was wearing a spooky Martha
Stewart mask (courtesy today’s Forbes
Magazine
) at the time.

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