*(or Email Conversations on a Monday Morning) Wallace sat in the next building over from Portia... pondering the pros and cons of junk food in the vending machine around the corner from his office... then said: five foot eleven looking out upon the world why can't i be huge? blah. blah blah.blah. blah. i forget what "doing" is. i talk way too much. So Portia, uanble to focus upon her current assignment, pondered such. Replying: Ambivalently i move warily forward seeking detachment my shoes are all wrong- i don't care what they say now. just shut up and walk. love pisses me off it can't make up its own mind leave me out of it blah. blah. blah. blah. blah. turn off the dripping drivel. my cup is too full. five foot four or so a very small animal conquering my fears To which Wallace, now snacking upon pork rinds, and feeling quite disappointed in his decision to consume them, replied: five foot four or so just right for beneath my chin conquering the world so tired and confused eyes blurred, speech slurred and head whirrred maybe this is bliss. i want to buy boots just like morgan spurlock wore on the C-A front and also the watch i might as well be a clone but it's so damn cool. Portia continued her struggle to focus. At last determining that only an infusion of high-quality caffeine would do the trick- putting her back on task- and so made a run to the Starbucks a few blocks away. Returning to her climate-controlled office from the brief escape out into the fresh, unconditioned air of Spring, she opened Wallace's latest email, laughed and wrote: five foot eleven no imposter feigning life just genuine you weary and worn out no time to find the right words lost beneath the couch i want to run far, just walk away, from this place of complacency you inspire me poking that place in my brain that creates new thought we are too damn cool to want to be cool, ya know? we secretly are. Finally, Wallace considered the break room and the idea of stealing a styrofoam coffee cup from the coffee club to hold his beverage of choice- a juice nectar. He thought better of the stealing and chose instead to drink straight from the bottle rather than become a thief. This decision resulted in a little juice getting spilt, mixing with the crumbs of earlier consumed pork rinds. Feeling a mess, yet justified in this decision, he replied: perfume no sweeter than a taste i've yet to know and know it i won't genuinely me? i really hope that it's true whatever that means. ------------ Just a typical day in the workplace with the technological tools for passing electronic notes in class. Just one not-so-busy bee in one building and another in the other... buzzing back and forth... trying to get a little work done between 7 a.m. and 4 p.m. each day. (This is a collaborative effort between Wallace and Portia... and also a fairly accurate depiction of Monday, April 2. sometimes you gotta have pork rinds and Starbucks... maybe not together but nonetheless... there's a time and a place for all things.)