This is a Petoskey stone.


I love me some Petoskey stone. In fact, several years ago I had a special thing for the Petoskey Stone. An obsession, if you will. It’s a long,boring and rocky tale,* which I will not soon be telling.

I will say that you know you have a problem with rocks if, while walking across the parking lot at a water theme park, you impulsively stop to comb piles of drainage rocks, in search of your beloved Petoskey. Meanwhile, your seven year-old son waits for you outside the park entrance, taunted to tears by the happy shrieks of the children already in the park. The children of normal parents. The children of parents who can find their way across a parking lot, without incident.

I did find two huge chunks of Petoskey that day. (maybe 6 x 7 inches apiece.) They weren’t perfect specimens by a long shot. Because they had been out of the surf for so long, they were significantly pocked. And dirty. And splattered with tar. But I didn’t care. They were the biggest mofo-in' Petoskey stones I had ever laid hands on.

Anyway. Last week I was shopping at a boutique in downtown My Community, and at the checkout counter was this Petoskey. While waiting to check out I picked it up and asked the clerk “Is this Petoskey?” ::Like I didn’t know. Heh.:: And the clerk said, “Yes it is.”

While the clerk processed my purchases, The Rock Whore That I Am proceeded to fondle and verbally drool over the stone's distinct beauty, texture and otherwise unique presentation.

After seeing that the clerk was somewhat taken aback by my effusive demeanor, over a rock, I quickly offered that I used to be a Petoskey freak, but am pretty much over it now.

Pretty much.

Next thing I knew, the clerk was holding out the stone and telling me I could have it, if I wanted.

I couldn’t believe my ears. “No." ::pause:: "I couldn't. Really."

Take it, she said, as she thrust the stone prit near into my chin.

By that point, and I kid you not, my eyes were wellin', like Mary Ellen, datin' a felon.

So I did. I took it. And what a randy speciman it was. Bigger than anything one could casually pick up on the random Lake Michigan beach, it was just the right size for a casual pick-up off the random boutique counter.

It was such a weirdly wonderful coupe, I could hardly believe it had really happened to me. It was only much later when I realized the clerk's spontaneous generosity was likely sparked by my frenzied, spittle-riddled display of enthusiasm, which was not only mucking up the ambiance du boutique, but holding up the line as well.

Even if it happened because the clerk thought I was seriously insane, my walking out of that store with this rock is about nothing less than a holiday miracle.

*Post divorce, I celebrated my emancipation from a relationship that did not support frivolous pursuits such as rock hounding, let alone allow said booty to be brought into the home, as clutter.

Someone's Having the Best Week Ever
And as soon as I find out who she is, the bitch is mine.

I’m not going to sit here, once again, and complain about the ongoing and unbelievably crazy shenanigans occuring daily in my world of work. Still. Yet. Today. Not only do I not have it in me, the complaining, but I’m pretty sure that all 7 who continue to visit here aren’t all that interested either.

In my defense, several times this week I sat down with every intention of writing the semblance of a meaningful post, while excluding even a peep of work-based whine/weep/incredulousness/fear/anxiety-based-butt-pluck/more weep.

Alas, the only thoughts that came to me, every time were:

OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
O.
M.
G.

Today I have decided that I will quit fighting this urge. Clearly these are the sounds that need to be uttered from my adolescent-antic-ravaged brain, before I can move on. So here it goes.

OMG
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
O.
M.
G.

Thank you.
I feel much better and am ready to move on to some non-work related, dynamo discussion.

In Other News
Is it just me or is Christmas like, three days away?
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
OMG.
O.
M.
G.

<----Gone drinking shopping.

Labels: eye candy Friday, Rocks Off