Something Stupendous: Layer Poultry

Layer Poultry. This is the phrase that took me down a peg and made me grin at my own silliness. I went a hundred different places as to what this phrase could possibly be referring to, going as far to google it. Before circling back around and going ‘well duh silly, it’s exactly what it sounds like – layer poultry’.

This is stupendous. The places your mind goes before arriving on the logical conclusion. The genuine confusion that bubbled in my soul. It’s an exacting, specific descriptive term that is exactly what it sounds like but still promotes imagination. STUPENDOUS ON BOTH COUNTS. I love things that explicitly say what they are and I love things that promote imagination.

I didn’t know you could put them together.

Please enjoy the two minute journey that my brain just went on when confronted with the term ‘layer poultry’:

Layer poultry. Right. Is that a food processor? No idea. Well, what is layer poultry? Chickens. Definitely a chicken farmer. Why layers? Layer chickens. No way. This is some fancy kind of layered chicken dish? As in layers of different kinds of chicken meat – like a chicken turducken. Turducken for the middle class. Yes. I like it.

Except they’re farmers. If they weren’t farmers they wouldn’t be on this list. Farmers seem unlikely to be serving fancy layered chicken. Maybe it’s a farming practice, like it’s a way of keeping the chickens. Or growing the chickens – no, raising chickens, come on no-one says growing chickens.

MAYBE THEY STACK THE CHICKENS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER. Like an epic Tower of Chickens, Chicken jenga. Yes, they take all the chickens and stack them in a pile with all their little scary chicken feet standing on the feathered back of other chickens. Very Yertle the Turtle. It’s layers of chickens. Wait no, that’s a really dumb idea. Live chickens don’t seem horribly stackable. And what would be the purpose?

I can’t believe I just proposed a tower of chickens. Embarrassing. Sometimes I wonder about my mental state. Maybe layers of caged chickens. That’s at least stackable and believable in terms of saving space. You know, I could just Google it. Then I’d know.

Oh good. Guidelines on layer poultry. Exactly what I wanted to read today. Skim. Skim. Ah wait. No. It cannot be that simple. Embarrassment increases. Why didn’t I think of that. They’re chickens. OF COURSE that’s what it means. Eggs silly. Layer poultry. As opposed to meat poultry. Not layers of chickens. I can’t believe you spent 30 seconds believing that some farm was creating the leaning tower of poultry and a farmer spent his days stacking his chickens for no discernible purpose.

END

Personally, even aside from the stupendousness of layer poultry, I think that little brain trip would make layer poultry stupendous all on its own.

And in case you’re like me, layer poultry means raising chickens who will grow up to be layers. As in the chickens who lay eggs. Layer poultry = egg laying chickens.

I wasn’t the only one who missed that. Right? RIGHT?

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Something Stupendous: The Overthinking Cycle

I’ve been overthinking these posts. Which is exactly why they’ve stopped coming. I’ve started overanalyzing, over planning, over editing, and generally overthinking every word of every post of every single thing that could possibly be overthunk. This paralyzing overthinking has ground my post production to a halt.

This was brought to my realization by discovering that I could still write a post a day (see this blog) if I just turned the old analytical part of the brain off a tad and let the funtastic words fly. My thesis advisor would be brandishing fruit flies at me for saying such a thing. Sorry Doctor Drosophila but Something Stupendouses are less about my editing and statistic prowess and more about feeling it out.

Of course it’s not quite that easy to turn off the overthinking. However, this has become stupendous. Forget the negative connotations associated with overthinking and really start thinking about it.

That’s right. I want you to overthink overthinking.

Because that’s the point where it all gets stupendous. When the circle loops back around to the origin point and internally combusts in on itself. You realize that you’re overthinking. You start thinking about your overthinking. You overthink the overthinking. You then overthink the fact that you’re overthinking the overthinking. Finally there’s just so much overthinking that you stop overthinking entirely because it’s not possible for the human brain to maintain that level of meta-ness.

Maybe I just really wanted a Charizard on my blog…

And being able to write again? That’s stupendous.

Also anything that feedback loops on itself and then combusts in a sea of Charizard level firewheels is stupendous too. Those are enlightenment moments at their best. 

Something Stupendous: And Suddenly… Beavers

Me: *bursts through the door into the house* MOM!

Mom [in another room probably having a heart attack because I am not a ‘burst through the door and shout’ kind of person but rather a ‘slink in the door and quietly traverse the two feet into my bedroom’ kind of person]: Archie?

~ As you may have noticed my name is not actually Archie. My mother is just fond of nicknames. As in she really never uses my real name even when friends are over which just gets mortifyingly embarrassing when she absently calls you Lulabell McFerdinand or something~

Me: Guess what I discovered at work today?

Mom: Something technical that you had to make sound pretty?

Me: *shouting across the house* BEAVERS!

Mom: *pauses then appears* There were beavers at work?

Me: No, not at work, in work. There were beavers in my work. Unexpectedly stupendous beavers. I got paid to write about dam-building, tail smacking, big toothed beavers. Do you know how often that happens? Someone just hands you beavers in the middle of your more technical mumbo jumbo and farm assessments?

Mom: *starts to mirror my enthusiasm* NOT OFTEN.

Me: NOT OFTEN! I genuinely lol’d. Big ol’ snort in the cubicle. Then I had to explain to my cubicle-mates the whole beaver situation. I can’t tell if they were chuckling at the beavers or my beaver enthusiasm or my weird snort noises.

Mom: *looks like ? *

Me: Laughed out loud, come on Mom. You keep telling me you’re hip. Be hip. Get with the lingo.

Mom: *subtle conversation change* It is almost Canada Day.

Me: Right! It’s a sign from the universe.

Mom: What sign?

Me: I don’t know, but it’s some kind of sign. Maybe the beaver overlords are coming. Maybe Canada will finally raise its beaver army, join its moose brethren and instill a state of politeness and maple syrup over the whole world. Look at that idea – we could achieve world peace with beavers.

Mom: Sometimes I worry about you.

Me: I know. But really the beavers weren’t even the best part – have you heard of beaver deceivers? Because I hadn’t. But they are essentially things that deceiver beavers. It RHYMES. Not only did I get unexpected beavers in the middle of a workday but I got rhyming beavers.

beaver deciever

Beaver deceivers are deceptively unbeaveresque

Mom: What are beaver deceivers?

Me: No clue. Some kind of beaver trap for when they annoy farmers. Apparently Manitoba hasn’t caught onto the beavers = world peace thing yet.

Mom: Sometimes I wonder how you got that job.

Me: Because I believe in my stupendousness! Also because they knew that I was the kind of girl who could a) handle both the tedious technical reports and the excitement of unexpected beavers and b) because I’m the kind of girl who actually gets excited by a spontaneous beaver interruption. That kind of enthusiasm is an immediate moral lift.

Mom: Unexpected beavers are stupendous?

Me: YOU BET! *pause* When’s dinner?

Mom: Guess.

Me: When Hedgehog gets home.

My life in a nutshell… I’m only slightly paraphrasing.

Something Stupendous: Avoiding Muffin Mental Breakdown

Existential cupcakes. When is a cupcake not a cupcake? When it’s a muffin. Ever spent twenty minutes discussing the essence of cupcakes or the core quality of muffins? No? I thought not. I did because that’s just how I roll. Give me a cupcake and I will reward you with the most important ponderings of my soul before devouring the tiny cake with the ferocity of, well, people who have cupcakes.

Discussing existential cupcakes was stupendous. It was something outside of normal conversation, stupendous. It required out of the box thinking, stupendous. There was simply conversation, stupendous. But rather than detail all the stupendous to you as per the norm I intend to share the stupendousness with you. Now you can’t say you haven’t spent time pondering the essence of cupcakes and muffins.

Essentially what is the difference between a cupcake and a muffin? A cupcake is a ‘tiny cake’ but why is a muffin not a tiny cake? Can I not make cakes from muffin mix? I think so. Maybe it would come out a little loaf-like but then we’re just considering loaves versus cakes. That’s the same as cupcakes vs muffins.

muffins vs cupcakes

Cupcake or icing cover muffin?

Icing was proposed as the distinguisher. So if I take a muffin and dump icing on it does it magically become a cupcake? The opinion was split (I really need a tiebreaker in the comments) but consider the flipside: is a cupcake without icing just a muffin? This makes me think that icing is not the factor. A plain muffin with icing isn’t a cupcake, it’s just a muffin with icing.

Possible it’s the sweetness of cupcakes that makes them cupcakes. But what about CHOCOLATE MUFFINS, never forget the delectable sweetness of chocolate muffins. It could be that muffins can be sweet and savoury (yes? That’s a cooking term right?) and cupcakes are only sweet. That just creates more problems. How do you know if the sweet muffins are muffins or cupcakes. WHAT DISTINGUISHES THE CHOCOLATE MUFFIN FROM THE CHOCOLATE CUPCAKE. Chocolate, once again, put everything in perspective.

Density. My conclusion is density. D = m/v. Density is mass over volume. Cupcakes are light, fluffy and full of air while cupcakes are solid bunches of goodness (if you’re lucky) or bran (if you’re unlucky). You can’t make a bran cupcake (can you?), only a bran muffin. Ultimately what this means to me is that there must be a tipping point, a density where muffins become cupcakes and are suddenly allowed to have icing slathered all over them.

Science needs this. Someone find the Muffin/Cupcake density line. Do it for science. Do for the children. Do it so that we can call it the Muffcake value (i’m not so conceited as to suggest you name it after me. Muffcake is stupendous all on its own).

Existential cupcakes to Muffcake values = its been a productive day.

I need to know. What is the muffin/cupcake distinguisher? People are still insisting it’s icing. Help! I need ammo. Respond here. 

Earbuds Above Ears

Guess who’s back in the cubicle? This kid. Can I say kid? I certainly feel like a kid but this a real-life, full time grown-up person job. What a terrifying thought. I’ll have to have an existential crisis about that later. Regardless I’m back in the good ol’ cubicle (which is itself stupendous) and I’m once again discovering the stupendousness that comes so easily in a new environment.

IMG_0071

Sneaky work picture is sneaky

Today it’s earbuds above ears. That’s right, not earbuds in my ears but earbuds above my ears. Welcome to the future! Cubicles mean the clickity-clack of multiple keyboards and the ting click of mouse buttons at all hours of the day. Stupendous, no problem. However, in this case it also means the rock-punk-cacophony of noise that’s apparently music coming from the desk just beyond the thin fabric wall. I can’t blame the man, either he’s blowing out his eardrums with the loudest headphone music ever or he, like me, doesn’t want music blasting directing into his ears all day and slowing blowing out his eardrums.

Cue earbuds above the ears. Rather than slide the music playing part into my ear, I perch it in the convenient groove between my upper ear cartilage and skin covered cranium. Sneaky work picture is sneaky. Shockingly you can keep the volume really low and still hear all your tunage and none of the cacophony of noise music.

Other stupendous features of earbuds above ears. No direct ear assault = healthy eardrum = no buzzing noise. If you get the cord caught on something there’s no evil moment of pain as your ears are nearly ripped from your head. Proper hair alignment keeps it hidden. Alternative hair alignment reveals earbuds above ears and is an EXCELLENT conversation starter. No-one else can hear it. I tested this one extensively throughout the cubicle. Finally, you can still hear your colleagues calling for you/walking up behind you, thereby avoiding being terrified by people who walk like ninjas and tap you on the shoulder.

Bubble Wrap Just Got Better (I didn’t think it possible)

Bubble wrap is the pinnacle of all wrapping materials. This is not an opinion, it’s a fact. Let me remind you. So what happens when you combine envelopes and the epicness of mail  with bubble wrap? STUPENDOUSNESS! If you’re joining the blog for the first time I’m going to spoiler alert you, it’s pretty much always stupendous. Putting these three things together gives you the joy of the bubble envelope.

bubble wrapPerhaps you’re wondering what I even mean by ‘bubble envelope’; after all I don’t think that’s the technical term. Let’s find out. Whoosh over to the supply cupboard. Whoosh back to desk. Whoosh back to the cupboard because I forgot the name in the five second walk. Whoosh back. Type furiously.

Recycled Bubble Cushion Mailers. That name might be one of the most stupendous names I’ve ever seen given to an office supply. However in plain language we’re talking about the giant orange mail envelopes with padding on the inside to keep the contents pristine. But the key question remains, why are they stupendous?

The fast and furious answers: made of recycled material, keeps your valuable items from getting crushed, enables you to send mail, is fun to squish, comes with a  self-sealing sticker to avoid the tongue-on-gross-glue conundrum, comes in a shade of orange that you never see anywhere else.

I’m sorry did I mention the bubble wrap? BUBBLE WRAP. The delightfully air-filled popable stress reliever substance is stuffed inside of an envelope. That’s right; as if it wasn’t stupendous enough on its own they’ve decided to incorporate it into a mailing device.

The implications of that are enormous. When you receive mail in a Recycled Bubble Cushion Mailer you are first off receiving mail and the joy of whatever the mail contains, you are receiving an envelope that you can reuse and you are receiving bubble wrap. Sending someone bubble wrap is basically saying, “I care about you and your mental state, have a <b>great</b> day” but by sending it as part of an envelope you disguise it with practicality and professionalism.

But really you’re mailing someone bubble wrap.

They’re not envelopes they’re ‘Cushioned Mailers’ = bonus

Erasers: Real Life’s Undo

What you wanted something big to start us off? Well let me tell you, we are totally starting with something big. Erasers. Such as the ones on the end of pencils. That jazz is thoroughly stupendous to the unquestionable degree. Why?

Because it’s the only undo button that exists in real life. You can draw some kind of symbol that will permanently remain on that scrap of paper and the only thing that will remove it is a pink bit of rubber. That’s it. Your only other option is physical destruction of the paper with bombs. Or eating it. Or a shredder.

The eraser is easier. No physical evidence. No whiteout smears. We love the digital world for its delete and backspace buttons. The eraser is the magic of delete with the practicality of existing in this dimension. Unless you’re a dimension jumper (call me) it’s all you’ve got.

But there’s more to erasers than their erasing power. Eraser shaving collections. I still don’t know why this was a thing but every elementary school kid has saved their eraser shavings in a tiny little box they made out of paper. Then you’d compare with your friends. We use to spend our time erasing nothing, we simply wanted the shavings. Stupendous.

Erasers bounce. That’s right bounce. Drop a pencil eraser first and it springs back into your hand. Drop and eraser and it suddenly becomes a slightly deranged bouncy ball. That’s even better than a normal bouncy ball because of the unpredictability factor. Bouncing is, quite simply, fun. High how can you get the bounce? How quickly? It’s one of those small personal, seemingly pointless triumphs that brings a smile to your face.

Do you really need more? Multiple shapes, multiple sizes, multiple colours. Variety is always good. There are even erasers that erase pen (the verdict is out on actual functionality). They make fabulous, non-lethal office/school projectiles.

But most importantly they’re a reminder that mistakes can be fixed, so don’t freak out. The eraser has your back. That certainly sounds stupendous.

Got anything to erase?

Stay Stupendous