Things I Do At Work, Ep. 1: Shakespeare Tribute

Things I Do At Work, Ep. 1: Shakespeare Tribute

Every Friday, I have to clean out the refrigerators. Not too glamorous, right? I’m supposed to warn everyone before hand with an email. Again, boring, right?

In comes Pollyanna. Friday emails have actually become my favorite part of my job, because I get to WRITE. Instead of sending a quick, “I’m cleaning the fridge, write your name on anything you want to keep,” I’ve been getting creative. Here’s the latest installment of this series:

Friday Email 8/15/2014

Subject: “The Raven Himself Is Hoarse” or “Men in skirts: Part 1.”

This day in 1057, after being warned by witches and having endured the harsh monologues of his wife (who had an odd relationship with ravens), MacBeth was killed by Malcolm, and Malcolm became the new King of Scotland. Of course, MacBeth should have seen it coming- he had killed Malcolm’s dad, King Duncan, because his bird-obsessed wife told him to.

 

Centuries later in 1603, when King James VII of Scotland became King James I of England after the death of Queen Elizabeth, William Shakespeare honored him by writing the great Scottish play, Macbeth.

 

Shhhhh don’t say the name!

 

Of course, Willie Shakes changed it up a bit so James’s ancestors would seem a bit nobler, and their enemies a bit more grotesque (Nothing new with the Mainstream Media. But since #17thcenturyTwitter made use of actual birds, it wasn’t very user-friendly. It tended to poop out, a lot).

 

 

In honor of the great Elizabethan Playwright, Master of the Stage, we have a Sonnet to place before thee, in hopes thou doth not protest our use of Iambic Pentameter.

 

Sonnet 155:

As now we reach the setting of the sun
And leave the day and all its woes behind,
Before the clock doth chime the week be done,
Methinks there must be rules to thee remind.
Although we have enjoyed a brave repast
Of lunches fraught with chips and salads brave,
The unclaimed feast must now be onward cast
To meet the somber silence of the grave.
Yet hark, forsooth, a better way I see
To save it from a fate so rightly crude:
Perhaps a name, a date upon it be
The way to halt the slaying of the food.
Instead of ruing, casting me the blame,
Methinks thou shouldst just give thy food a name.

 

#HappyFriday #HastagImDone

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What the Dickens?

I feel like I’m finally joining the adult world. James and I have settlement on our first house on Friday! We just spent an hour at Target today getting grown up things like trash cans and dish towels. And I didn’t buy books or movies because I currently have “enough” and they’re not “necessary”. Go figure.

Our wedding is not til June 1, so only James will be living in the house for the next 10 months (good thing it’s only 10 minutes from where I live). I get to spend the next 10 months painting and making it exactly how I want it, and filling those gorgeous built-in bookshelves with all sorts of papery wonders. Now you’re talking.

Speaking of books, I recently discovered something amazing. You’re not going to believe it. I started reading A Tale of Two Cities and I am enjoying it. Sure, Ebeneezer Scrooge and Oliver Twist are household names. But how many modern people actually enjoy reading Charles Dickens? I know I never did, even though I wanted to.

Like many modern readers, I approach novels with a bit of violence. You know, eyes flashing like lighting through the words, flipping pages like a wild storm until the end is reached. This method has served me well for decades, beginning with Meet Felicity  in the second grade, and even through my love affairs with Alexander Dumas and Jane Austen.

Dickens doesn’t work that way. It was the opening passage of A Tale of Two Cities that let me on to the secret. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” Speed read the beginning and you miss the artfulness of the most beautiful series of comma splices in history. If you try to rush through Dickens, you’re missing the point. He’s meant to be enjoyed slowly, like super rich dark chocolate.

So now I know. I read no more than one chapter a day, one sentence at a time, admiring the genius of each phrase. And I’m loving it. Charlie and I have made peace.