The Tears of a Clown

I have been inundating SmartyPants with Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Baily Circus Bello the Clown "Bellobration" paraphernalia. It's kind of an inside joke, see? Which is probably why SmartyPants accused me of having a hand in this:

Bello the Clown broken over lost bike

Obviously, I had nothing to do with this, not that I am above stealing a 15 inch bicycle from a busy Midtown street, but as a New Yorker, I would never stop to watch an impromptu circus act on the street- I would just assume it was a ruse for someone to pick my pocket to steal my credit card number. Bello, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, this is the big city. You can't just lean your bike up against a street sign and wander off without locking it up, even if it is a very teeny, very adorable bike.

Crime is everywhere.

Update! Bello's bike was returned. Notice that the bike was returned by a Connecticut native who found it outside a restaurant. Obviously, afterall this media attention, the wheels were too hot too fence. This makes me think the thief was not part of some well-oiled Gone in 60 Seconds gang and more like some stoned NYU kid who thought he accidentally took the pill that makes you bigger.

I am a genius.

For the past few hours, I have been staring at a red mark on my upper wrist and wondering when I managed to burn my hand today. On the tea kettle? On a pan I took out of the oven? Then I remembered that I was trying on lip sticks at Duane Reade today. I think the tip off is that burn scars don't usually shimmer.

You Gotta Be In It to Win It - I'm Just Out of It.

What is it like to be the world's smartest Assistant with the world's shortest attention span at a busy investment firm? Right now I'm happy. I know that I was happy because I was thinking about something. And since I can no longer remember what that something was, I'm just going to assume it was chocolate. Then an accountant came by to collect money to play the lotto. Eight of us threw in twenty bucks apiece to play the Mega Millions, said jackpot tonight is $355 million dollars.

$160 gives one 192 chances to win the lottery. For every five quik picks you purchase, you get one free. The operations analyst next to me kept saying, "Nancy, you have a better chance of being hit by a car tonight than hitting the lottery. Do you believe you will be hit by a bus tonight?"

"No."

"Do you believe you will win $125 million? How much is it?"

"$355 million. No, not really. But I'm not trying to hit $355. A hundred grand would be nice. Just think what a nice team-building exercise it would be. And if I get hit by a bus tonight, I am going to call you from the emergency room. Let you and your husband nurse me back to health. I'll move right into your apartment."

The accountant returned from downstairs with a thick stack of lottery tickets. People had been queuing at the newsstand in the lobby all day to buy tickets. It was decided that I would hold onto the tickets by the very nature of the fact that I am blessed with a drawer. One of the marketing women said, "What's our number?" Again, we have 192 sequences of six number picks. Who says marketing is weak on digits? "Three," someone said. "Your number is three. If three comes up, you win."

It took a while to get everyone calm and go over how we would check the numbers. These are smart people (just trust me). What was making me smile an hour ago? Now my wallet is $20 lighter and I can't remember where I hid that chocolate. This really is a fool's game.

Kitchen Chemistry

Why does it smell like peanut butter in my kitchen when the only thing I'm cooking is some white beans in chicken broth?

Oh. Because I burnt them. All the beans.

Life is hard.