Pregnant seconds of awkward.

So, aside from wondering what music editor Scott Heisel’s biggest turn-ons are (for the record: banjo music with high-pitched vocals, Frisbee competitions and those Six Flags commercials with that dancing, old man), the one question I’m asked most is, “What does your desk look like?”

And I told both of those people, “You know that scene in Event Horizon when the ship is going through the seventh level of hell and everyone starts ripping their faces off and pulling their eyeballs out in a sort of orgy of chaos and unholiness?”
And they both said, “Um…yeah.”
And then I said, “It’s actually a lot more like the scene in Jurassic Park when Newman from Seinfeld gets his jeep stuck in the mud and he slides down the hill and forgets which way the docks are.”

And then there’s typically a few pregnant seconds of awkward.
And then I usually walk away.

But since I had to spend a bunch of my holiday weekend at my desk and far from the scent of potato salad and freedom, I figured I’d take a minute to give you guys a tour of the place I call “the place I sit.”

Here it is:

A few things of note in this photo:

A: My desktop photo is of Jenna Fischer (from the Office and my most depraved dreams) in that scene from Blades Of Glory where she seduces Will Ferrell. I became very, very enraged when I learned that Scott Heisel (from the first line of this very blog) at one point had begun to use the same photo as his desktop. I realize that Jenna Fischer is not my girlfriend and (unless she reads some of my poetry, of course) she never will be. But I don’t want Heisel gawking at her all day. So we settled it the way men do: I fell to the floor and held my breath until I lost the part of my brain that allows me to finish senten

B: Yeah, that’s a V8. My much-maligned eating practices have been scrutinized for as long as I’ve had eating practices. I typically eat one meal per day. Six days a week, that meal is a whole pizza from the place next door. I also smoke way more than a normal human being should be able to and I haven’t exercised since 1998. Since it’s been brought to my attention that I’m a grown-ass man, I decided to attempt to live past the age of 32. Still, I haven’t opened this V8 yet. It’s mostly there to remind me of my own mortality.

C: This is a desk lamp that I bought the week I started at AP. I’ve never turned it on. I think that’s a metaphor for something.

D: That’s a poster for the Thrice/Circa Survive show that I never got to see. The tour didn’t come anywhere near Cleveland. It’s cool. It’s not like those are two of my favorite bands or anything. It’s not like I designed my own T-shirt that said, “I am the image of the invisible” on the front and “Class of 2000 4-EVER” on the back with bedazzling and dreams. I stole this poster from St. Andrew’s Hall during the Detroit stop of the AP Tour. I also stole six rolls of toilet paper. (It’s a long, disturbing story.)

E: It’s difficult to see, but that’s an Andy Van Slyke baseball card. Before you say it: Yes, I am, in fact, still a grown-ass man. But growing up in Pittsburgh, the former Pirates center fielder was famous for running into walls to catch fly balls, and I myself ran into several walls accidentally. Lately, I’ve taken to collecting all Van Slyke’s cards because they remind me of a time before credit card bills, girl problems and comprehension of the words “mid,” “life” or “crisis.”

So obviously, this blog has gone on for far too long. If you’ve made it this far, you, my friend, are a true patriot. Stay tuned next week, when I consider opening up one of my desk drawers for you.

By the way, none of this has to do with the fact that I’m currently searching my desk for my notes from an interview with Shaant from Cute Is What We Aim For.
Certainly not.