Stuff on My Desk

My desk is where all the cool kids hang out. Truly it's sort of competitive up here where all the executives live, and one can't underestimate the importance of having shiny objects to attract the attention of ones "higher ups." So here, for your pleasure, or abject boredom, is some of the stuff that lives on my desk.


These are the little creatures that live on my desk. I bought them at Borders, my hang out of choice, and yes, the C-level executives stop by and play with them frequently. So far George, the back-flipping frog, is the clear favorite.


These little guys are an homage to my art historian days, when I used to spend my time lurking in the deep, dark corners of the library researching obscure references to Greek and Egyptian imagery of a man-octopus who represented the forces of Chaos in tomb paintings. Interestingly enough, Chaos is named Seth in Egyptian mythology. Who knew? Well I knew, because I was enough of a nerd to spend a year and 57 pages of my life reading about him. Still, to this day, the name Seth only brings back images of Jeff Goldbum's character Seth Brundle in the Fly. That movie scarred.me.for.life. Anyway, yes. Figurines, art history, and nostalgia.


No desk is complete without a marshmallow gun. How else is one supposed to halt interlopers who have designs on entering the CEO's office uninvited? Also it is very handy for intimidating co-workers who stand too close whilst waiting for me to complete a fax. Impatiently tapping your foot eh? How about you impatiently tapTHIS! (sound of a marshmallow being forcefully ejected from my gun). That's what I thought. Hope you can dial 9 with one FRIGGIN EYE!


My African mask hat stand. A girl's got to have somewhere to hang her hat. And then forget to take it home for 8 months. Hee.


I affectionately call this "The Bird Feeder." It's just like hanging a hummingbird feeder out your window. Put out a bowl of candy and enjoy the wild life. Some creatures secretively squirrel away a large handful to sustain them through the winter. Others make the ever-so-casual-on-the-way-to-the-bathroom-drive-by. Others still prefer to hunt nocturnally. That is, you come into work each morning and the contents of your bowl have magically vanished. Poof!


This impossibly small Zen garden is a particular favorite. I had originally intended to use this for myself. The thought of dragging an impossibly small rake through a tiny sandbox and lovingly arranging the stones filled me with dreams of peace and serenity. The reality proved to be far less calming. Within five minutes of placing the box on my desk, I promptly upturned it with an errant swipe of my elbow, sending the wee little rocks and sand flying in a graceless arc through space. I did my level best to clean the mess, but spent the rest of my day shaking grains of sand out of my mouse. Needless to say, this was hardly a zen inducing experience. It now lives safely beyond my reach on the desk bar for other people to play with.

I'm in imminent danger of becoming one of those people who look like they live at their work. You know the kind. Several houseplants, bunny slippers under their desk, a plethora of placards bearing inspirational phrases, lamps, a couch, a cat. For now, I draw the line at toys. And food. And a zen garden. And decorative figures. And several jackets. Come to think of it, this is a pretty roomy cubicle. I'm sure a cat would be delighted with these digs...


-C