Wednesday, June 11, 2008


I have a weird obsession with the time 8:08. I remember as a child typing words into my calculator–all you had to do was turn your calculator upside down and you could type in words like shoeless, hello, and all the other words that we all remember but I won't blog about. I remember figuring out that I could type "Bobby" into the calculator, yea, even with the calculator right-side up, which made me feel pretty special. But, this fascination with seeing Bob or Bobby in digital format escalated when I first heard Maggie say, "It's 7:11, make a wish!" I soon realized, that, like 7:11, 8:08, or "Bob time," if you will, is a regular occurrence during the day. Saying 'regular occurrence' actually just made me think of Metamucil or milk of magnesia, when all I really wanted to convey is that it's 8:08 twice a day, no matter what. So, I've since replaced lucky 7:11, with lucky 8:08. It is not uncommon to hear me say, "It's 8:08, make a wish!" I think the reason why I'm so proud of 8:08 is that no one else can claim their name in the time, unless the person is named Boo or Sob or something.

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