LOVE THIS!

If this wasn’t already up to $152, I would buy this — but I’m not saying who I would inflict this upon.

eBay: Drive Someone Insane with Postcards

In case you can’t click the link, here is what the item description says:

You are bidding on a rare chance to traumatize a treasured friend or relative with baffling, mind-numbing, mystery correspondence from abroad. Here is the arrangement:

I will be spending the Christmas holiday in Poland in a tiny village that has one church with no bell because angry Germans stole it. Aside from vodka, there is not a lot for me to do.

During the course of my holiday I will send three postcards to one person of your choosing. These postcards will be rant-ravingly insane, yet they will be peppered with unmistakable personal details about the addressee. Details you will provide me. The postcards will not be coherently signed, leaving your mark confused, guessing wildly, crying out in anguish.

“How do I know this person? And how does he know I had a ferret named Goliath?”

Your beloved friend or relative will try in vain to figure out who it is. Best of all, it can’t possibly be you because you’ll have the perfect alibi: you’re not in Poland. You’re home, wherever that is, doing whatever it is you do when not driving your friends loopy with international prankery. Your target will rack their brains in the shower. At dinner. During long drives. At work. On the golf course.

“Who did I tell about the time I got fired by a note on my chair?” they’ll ponder, “And where the hell is Szczeczinek?”

But wait, there’s more.

To add to the sheer confusion and genuine discomfort, one missive will be on an original promotional postcard announcing the 1995 television premiere of Central Park West on CBS. Another will be a postcard celebrating Atlanta’s disastrous hosting of the 1996 summer Olympic games. Your mark will be at a complete loss, desperate for answers, debating contacting people he or she hasn’t talked to in years.

“I know this will sound weird,” they’ll say, “but by any chance were you in Eastern Europe ranting about cantaloupe… twelve years ago… right before some show with Mariel Hemingway debuted?”

When you decide to end the torment is completely up to you. If you can, I recommend owning up on 1 April 2008 - giving you nearly half a year of joy and a George Clooney-esque level of prankage. If you can’t hold it in that long, I totally understand.

One year ago, Tom and I bought our first house. It needed some minor fixing — tacky wallpaper in the dining room and kitchen needed to go, wallpaper in the downstairs half-bath needed to go, the kitchen cabinets are old and dated, and the master bedroom is painted with a hideous neon yellow. To rectify these four things was my priority.

And so I began. Wallpaper in the dining room was ripped down and replaced with a neutral taupe wall color, and earth-toned accents of various reds and greens were introduced. The dining room is connected to the kitchen, so the dated cabinets and horrid wallpaper was still visible. In the meantime, we had also removed the wallpaper in the downstairs half-bath, but nothing else had done.

This has all been sitting, unfinished, for the past year.

Now, I could give you plenty of excuses as to why this wasn’t finished but none are really that good. What I will say is that sometimes it’s hard to get this stuff done because my wonderful husband always has a comment about everything and those comments are always negative. So when I start work, I already feel the oppressive comments of Eyore, the Agent of Negativity.

This morning, Agent Eyore is stuck upstairs on the computer, on a conference call with his coworkers. He will probably be there all weekend.

Now’s my chance. It is now 10:55am. I have showered and dressed. I have a big cup of coffee and a granola bar. The primer has been opened and stirred, and is waiting for me to pour it into the paint tray. The bathroom will get primered. Next, I have already started unloading some of the dishes from some of the cabinets. Crap is everywhere. I still have to pick out the worship for tomorrow and email the bulletin to my pastor, but I think that should wait. Time is of the essence and I must get this stuff done before Agent Eyore spots me.

More updates to come. Will edit this post with my progress.

Edit: 11:08am Agent Eyore came out of the computer room. I quickly shut the bathroom door behind me and he never saw what I was doing. He didn’t even notice that I have primer all over my arms. Speaking of which, he will probably be pretty mad when he finds out I was using the laptop while covered in primer. Cats are staring at me from the doorway, looking at me like I’m some sort of alien.

More updates to come.

Edit: 11:45am Almost finished with primer in the bathroom. Agent Eyore was reading his blogger during a conference call and caught me. Also does not like being referred to as “Agent Eyore.” I don’t think he’s figured out my master plan, so for now I am safe. Going to take a break and get tomorrow’s worship set done. More updates to come.

Edit: 3:50pm I had to go dark for a couple of hours. At first, I thought Agent Eyore was on to me, but I was able to divert his attention elsewhere. After I went out and got him a large sub, he seemed satisfied and returned to the computer room. Mission progress: I have removed the kitchen cabinet doors that face the dining room and have given everything a good coat of primer, except for two cabinet doors. Will give a second coat of primer in a few minutes. Will provide more updates later.

Edit: 5:40 Primer in the bathroom and kitchen is complete. Paint is scheduled for tomorrow… woo!

“Call me old school, but kids need to eat. And not just once a day - you’ve got to feed them twice a day!”

Coffee Stalker just popped by my desk to tell me he requested to move his desk to the other side of my cubicle wall. Apparently he is doing this so he can be nearer to his co-workers and get a little more peace and quiet. I explained that the last four people who have sat by me requested to move because my boss and I make so much noise (there was a fifth, but I had her moved) but he seemed determined! He’s on the other side of my wall right now, plugging his laptop in…

This morning, I woke up on time but got out of bed late. Story of my life. Before I left the house, there was no time to make coffee, and that’s fine because I can grab a cup of Java City’s daily flavor downstairs in the cafeteria. No problem.

I get down to the cafeteria around 8:30. The pot of flavored coffee is empty, but someone is making a new pot in the industrial-sized coffee maker. While I wait, I mosey on over to the grill and shoot the breeze with Allen while he makes me some eggs. By the time my eggs and toast are done, I head back over to the coffee maker. A woman is standing in front of it, coffee cup in hand, guarding it with her very life.

Sidling up alongside this tall blonde like a drunk in a bar, I say, “Excuse me. Mind if I grab a cup?” My hands reach out and I grab one paper cup, one lid, and one paper band thingy that you use so your fingers don’t get burned. She looks at me, still hovering before the coffee pot, and says, “Okay, but it’s not done yet. You’re going to have to wait!” I assumed she was kidding so I laugh and say, “It’s ok, I can wait,” and wait off to the side by the fruit and granola bar.

Once the coffee pot was two-thirds through brewing, I decide that it’s ready for a cup. Besides, I like strong coffee. I walk back over to the coffee pot and say to the woman, “It’s two-thirds of the way through, which is good enough for me. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab a cup.”

She refuses to move, but what the hell, this is New York. Everyone here is rude. I stick my coffee cup under the spout and my other hand reaches out to grab the nozzle –

My coffee cup is promptly knocked out of the way with hers and she says to me, “I’m first!”

I start to laugh. “Okay,” I said, then stared at her, waiting for her to pour a cup.

She doesn’t. Instead, she gets this very serious look on her face and says, “You have to wait for the entire pot to fill up, or you’re going to mess it up.”

I laugh again and then say, “It’s not going to mess up the pot. It’s fine. I’m going to get a cup now.”

Again, my cup goes under the spout. Again, she knocks my cup out of the way with hers.

“They said we should wait until it’s done or we’re going to mess up the entire pot!” She exclaims.

Now I’m irritated, but at the same time I am so bemused at this that I’m unable to make a real witty retort. I can also tell that I’m starting to get “that look” on my face. It’s not a good one. She took a startled step back and I said quite calmly, “I’m going to get a cup of coffee now.”

“Oh,” is all she said, and silently filled her cup after I was done.

I tried getting a look at her employee badge, but it was flipped around so I couldn’t get her name. You know I’m going to be down in the cafeteria every morning looking for the Coffee Nazi.

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Superhawk

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