Object of Affection
Right now I think that one of my all time favorite things is overhearing people make references to sandwiches. It is so awesome. The descriptions are always very intricate and morally important, carrying with them this sense of urgency. People love them. They really do. Plus, I just wish I could hear the word sandwich over and over again. It is ridiculous.
For example, this morning at work one of the marketing women (who, I may as well add here, is very sassy and stylishly aged) was talking about editing “issues” with a colleague. The conversation was very serious and referenced problem-solving. And then it happened: “sandwiches.” She said it. Why? Why did she bring her sandwich into this. It is 9:30 in the morning. How could a sandwich reference already make it into the conversation of a forty-plus year-old women in a media relations department?
I blame it on the hexagon on Saturn. Thank you for your bizarre shape and revelation.
Sometimes I feel bad that I am not “into” sandwiches. The “portable meal” as a catagory does not appeal to me. I like to sit and appreciate food/the moment/color/time. But I think I may overcompensate for this allienation through my admiration and fondness for the sandwich reference. At least I have that going for me.
My feelings on the subject are best expressed in the title of this photo on flickr:
“jan 18: sam wants to be made into a sandwich (cat love 3 of 3)“
So Do I sam, so do I.
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