the dwarf african frogs have arrived

It's still one of my favourite statements, ever. It was a sign, stuck to a door in NYC, and clearly, the frogs, which are both dwarf and African, have arrived, but is this a good thing? Something I should be worried about? Should I be heading to the nearest bunker? Or is it code for something? Something that has arrived? Something that has arrived and is watching us even now, with its cold beady eyes? Who can say? It's just one of those odd signs that capture the imagination, or mine at least.

I know, way too much ITC telly as a child, but there you go.

Meanwhile, the office klepto is back. I've lost a stapler I'd carried through eight different offices, assorted pens and my spoon, which I was also attached to, because pens and spoons are personal items (to some of us) and, well, harumph. It's what I get for being tired and accidentally leaving my desk drawer unlocked but my gosh, they were in like Flynn. I think they've taken more but it was the spoon I missed most as I was feeling rather unwell and had been thinking on the freezing cold and overcrowded bus that a little warm museli might set me to rights. Museli denied.

I'm so glad I'm here and not in New York this week, it's been so much fun. You should see all the nasty emails and notes I have from my boss. Oh yeah, it was so worth giving up the chance to see the boys from White Collar for this. Whimper.
( more: slippers, sinking of )