The dreadfully dark Descent of my working life

Whoa. I just took a look and realized that my last 4 blogs were gripes about work. The only gripe I have this time about it (because there probably won't be many blogs without any gripes about work from here on in) is that it kept me from posting this post on Monday when I first tried to write it.

August 21, 2006 - Monday
It's amazing how much we rely on being connected. Last night (Sunday), the power went out and regardless of the fact that we had been preoccupied with other activities prior to the loss of light, Brodder and I could only sit and wait for power to return to the electronics that we'd ignored until then. And then today at work, the internet connection isn't working and so I'm reduced to pen and paper blogging at my desk since my computer duties are basically null and void until reconnected, and since my phone lines are being tied-up, holding for the tech-guys at Bell.

Others in the office are also wandering around, having little to do without the internet either. We actually sort of look like rescued zombies, having been returned to our true human state, stepping dazed and blinking, away from our monitors and into the light. I kinda like it--it amuses me.

Speaking of amusing, while the lights were out Brodder nor I could find the flashlights. We found something to suffice, but what we we used instead only goes to show you how nerdy we are. Booklights. That's right, LED booklights that we had been given for Christmas earlier on in the year. At least when we thought of them, Brodder still had to take the plastic wrap off of his--mine was already open and broken-in. And we couldn't just hold them like you would any other light source--no. No, we had to make sure we could be as efficient as possible in our newly darkened surroundings, meaning we went the hands-free route with them.


We are so related.

Anyway, speaking further of amusement, after our tournament and dinner en masse this past Saturday, 8 of us Tigers--upon the random recommendation of the waiter's friend's friend--we went to go watch The Descent. The movie itself wasn't all that amusing--I don't think I've ever been so stressed out while just watching a movie before--but the events to unfold throughout the movie were.

First off, we turned out to be that giggly, rowdy bunch that everyone glares at, arriving late as the commercials were running; our big, shadowy, hulking mass intruding on everyone's field of vision for longer than the customary few seconds.

Next, it turns out that my teammates' volume on the court is transferable to quiet, confined spaces like the theatre too. The first startling scene to pop up set the two next to me screaming. Of course they were the only ones in the theatre to do so. But, since the bunch of us were all together, with each shriek came a slew of stifled giggles. If one girl wasn't sared, the other one would be and both would end up vocalizing her fear, despite all efforts not to. It was a hilariously vicious cycle.

Now, The Descent was the kind of movie that didn't have a strong plotline, but loved to scare the bejeebus out of you via surprising spectres and grotesque gore. Therefore, all of the girls in the group were all stressed out--myself included--in anticipation of the next big "boo!" During the suspenseful parts, I'd be hugging my knees to my chest as my heart pounded and my muscles would grow sore from being so tense for so long. Anyway, it was during one of these stressing moments that the funny-bone tickling event of the night took place.

As before, it was a terribly suspenseful scene--possibly the most drawn-out one of the whole movie. There was only one character, alone on the screen while the rest of the scene was filled with looming darkness; the kind that something was sure to spring out from. My heart was pounding, my knuckles were white, my body was losing circulation. All eyes were wide and glued to the screen in silence, waiting...and then it happened.

*Ppppppffffffttttt*

Someone farted.

I could NOT stop laughing. My face and stomach hurt SO much from trying to silence my sobbing laughter.

Of course it turned out to be one of our group that had passed the gas--but at least when he did it, you could hear his determined attempt to have held that fart in. It was simply a struggle that he didn't win--and from the sounds of it, it had been quite the struggle.