Choose Your Own Adventure: The Search for the Elusive Potting Soil

The following Choose Your Own Adventure is based somewhat on actual events leading up to the potting of Hugo Chavocado.

YOU sit in your cubicle, busily typing away at your box index. Every other word or so, you glance at your beloved Hugo Chavocado, as he sleeps soundly in his little water bottle on his perch above the printer. You move closer to give him a little pat on the pit...but what's this? A little green sprout peeking out from the top of his pit, the beginnings of a glorious new tree! Clearly this is cause for action. Do you 1) leave Hugo in his comfy waterbottle to rot away, thereby losing the only chance you had of turning him into a beautiful leafy avocado tree that would eventually produce delicious Venezualan guacamole OR 2) decide to plant Hugo in a little pot of his own? Scroll down to the corresponding number.

1) Hugo dies.
2) Well this is cause for celebration! But first, you must find some potting soil. You already have a pot from a previous plant...an experience that ended rather unpleasantly, but we won't go into that now. Where oh where might one find potting soil in New York City? Do you 3) try to steal potting soil from one of the lush-looking plants on a secretary's desk OR 4) check your friendly neighborhood supermarket? Scroll down to see what happens.

3) Good work! You're doing it! Quiet now...don't let the secretaries see you. You can use that plastic spoon over there to help get all of the soil out of that pot. No, don't put it back in her Tupperware full of soup! Wait, what's that? I hear talking....it's getting closer and closer........RUN! Drop the soil and RUN!
*BONK*
You're dead. The secretary blind-sided you with a heavy duty hole puncher and you're dead. Nice choice, idiot.
4) Of COURSE the supermarket will have potting soil. Why else would they call themselves supermarket if they didn't have super stuff like that? Let's see. Oooh you've been meaning to buy some Peeps. You'll just grab a pack of those. Let's see potting soil potting soil....OH! You love this cereal! Yes you will need that too. OOOoooo gummy bears! And wild cherry seltzer! Hmmm they clearly don't sell potting soil, but look at all of the cool stuff you got! At least you weren't killed by a hole puncher.
So the search for the elusive potting soil continues. Days pass as you ponder what potting soil is, where it comes from, and the benefits of drinking soy milk over regular. At last it dawns upon you. "AhHA!" you say. Why didn't you think of it before? There must be a florist in the WFC. It's full of busy business men who likely come home late every night and have to occasionally send flowers to wives in hopes that they won't leave them. How could there not be a florist? You check the map. YES! It's there and waiting for you to come buy Hugo's new home. You and your officemate decide to take a walk over there to check things out. But when you arrive, you realize it's UPSTAIRS. Do you 5) take the elevator at the end of the walkway OR 6) take the escalator at the beginning of the walkway? Scroll scroll...

5) What a lovely elevator vestibule, though it feels a bit cramped. Actually, it looks a bit more like a dead end than a lovely elevator vestibule. Whats that heavy breathing? You turn, and before you can scream, a Tyrannosaurus Rex eats you. You should know by now, savvy adventurer, that elevator vestibules often double as holding pens for T-Rex's. Shame.
6) You made it! The escalator was a bit narrow, and scary at times...especially when your officemate suggested you ride it with your eyes closed and your arms out, but you MADE it. And there's the florist, dead ahead! You happily scamper up to the counter and ask the nice man if he sells potting soil. He says yes, but "only in HUGE 50 pound bags!" You're DEVASTATED. You can't buy a 50 pound bag! Just as you're about to cry, both the "nice" man and your officemate point out that he was joking and you're an idiot. JOY is restored! You promptly purchase your two 3.3 lb bags of potting soil and exit the florist, full of glee and accomplishment.

Good job adventurer, you've found Hugo a new home. You are one classy arborist.

Do you smell pot?

Hugo certainly does. That's because he's IN ONE! That's right folks. Hugo Chavocado, former pit, formerly of the cup, formerly of the larger-than-a-cup waterbottle, has been planted in soil (potting soil) in a pot (pot). Very exciting news. In fact, I can't write anymore because I need to go lie down. You know, from all the excitement.

So if anyone's wondering why right now is so awesome, it's probably because Hugo's in a pot. In potting soil.

Victory in 2008.

Good morning sunshine. The Earth says hello.

Hello to you, faithful reader. Much to do, so much to do. So little time. First I would like to respond to a number of questions and comments posted on the OA over the course of the last few months. In no particular order, our answers are as follows:

- No.
- 3.
- Fortunately, yes.
- Without a doubt.
- About 14 feet.
- Yes.
- A stone's throw away from here.
- Thank you. I'm honored to hear that. I feel strongly as well.
- It's called slash-and-burn horticulture.
- I'll record your pedigree.
- Did I stutter?
- Yes, that's correct. CLOSER to the sun.


Now that that's all cleared up, we encourage you all to continue posting comments on the hour every hour.

Hugo continues to grow. No surprises there. His upwards-growing stem has attained lofty heights. It's actually sprouted far enough up that it has reached ABOVE the rim of Hugo's humble abode/waterbottle (powered by you-know-who-law). The root is growing thicker, and a number of shoots are coming off of the main root. As mentioned previously, we are in negotiations currently with our potting soil supplier* to relocate Hugo into an actual pot. As evinced by his recent spurt, he is clearly growing too large for his aquatic crib.


*Re: potting soil supplier: we don't have one. We're looking for one.
Actually, we're just looking for some soil. Not too much. Just a bag's worth. We don't know where to find any. If anyone has some leads about how we can get some soil without putting any effort into the process (we're plum out of effort this year) - or, better yet, if anyone just has some soil they could give us - let us know. Also, while we're on the subject, I could use some more coffee.

Movin' On Up

Hugo's pure radiance is blinding today. The soft florescent light bounces off his gleaming pit like spring sunshine on a newly budding cherry blossom. Since his sunny vacation on the 20th floor, which we all agree is closer to the sun, he has greeted each new day with ebullient enthusiasm and a new found zest for life. And yes the rumors are true - Hugo has officially begun to sprout upwards! If you were wondering what the miracle of life looks like, stop by 19-240/241 and you will FIND IT. This development has of course spawned some preliminary conversations about planting Hugo in our empty pot (yes we have an empty pot....there used to be a poinsetta....it died....we try not to talk about it around Hugo). Conversations usually go like this:

Me: Hmmm maybe we should plant him soon.
Joseph: Yea good thing we have a pot.
Me: But we have to get soil
Joseph: We'll do it later

As if Hugo isn't excited enough, he also made a shocking, but wonderful discovery this week. Apparently, according to the O.A.'s sources (and the phone directory) there is a person....in this building....named Avocado Pitt. Incredible. I kid you not. Would I kid? I wouldn't. And I don't. We have no other details (not that we would really post them on the internet anyways), nor do we have a picture of this amazing person. I imagine she would look something like this:

Miss Pitt, if you are reading this, Hugo would like you to know that he is 86% sure that you are his soul mate (he's got the hots for an attorney on 32, which accounts for the other 14%, but we all know it'll never happen)

He's baaaaaaack (and this time he's not mad)

Oh come all ye' faithful.
Joyful/Triumphant.
Oh come, ye', oh come, ye',
to 19-240/241
I am he as 'ye are me
and 'ye are we and we are all together.

And by we are all together, I clearly mean that Hugo Chavocado has made his triumphal return to his home, home on the ledge (above the printer), where certain unnamed deer and antelope have been known to play, blah blah blah. Yes, yes. You heard correctly. Hugo has returned from wintering in Florida (aka, the 20th floor), which as we all know is much much closer to the Sun.

Hugo had a wonderful time during his week-long vacation (again, closer to the Sun). He rested. He lounged. He sprouted. He drank some of his water. He slowly converted another small portion of the fleshy interior of his seed into some length of stem. He started to sprout upwards a tiny bit (yes, very exciting, I know.) He also gained much fame on his travels. He was greeted by devoted fans on his Sun-bound trip last week (they may or may not have made signs welcoming him to the 20th floor). He also read Prince of Tides, which he just adored. "Much better than the movie," Hugo told me.


Upon his return, Hugo was greeted by another large sign reading "Welcome Back Kotter" (it was the best we could do. All the "Welcome Back Hugo" signs seem to have been purchased in bulk by some rogue South American nation. Hugo can't read anyway, so it didn't really matter.) He then watched some college hoops and even tried to play himself a little. Here he is crashing the board. "Where we're going," he said, "we don't need basketballs."




Hugo then settled down for a day back at the office. He fielded some important phone calls and wrote down some important things with a pen. Among the other really important things he wrote down was a note asking commenters on his blog to stop trying to impress him with big words. Hugo gets frustrated when he has to consult a dictionary too often. It hurts his pea-sized brain. Especially now that the flesh of said pea-size brain is slowly getting eaten away and turned into his stem.

The avocado is always greener on the other side...

It's been lonely here without Hugo. Quite lonely indeed. I sit and stare at the spot where he used to read his books (and by read his books i mean sit in a waterbottle) and I cry a little. BUT I know that he is getting the sunlight he so desperately needs upstairs, which is, as we all know, closer to the sun. He is looking quite "resplendent" these days, as his temporary caretaker described it. I have spent my moments as an emptynester cogitating on the potential that Hugo has, that he may someday produce the most delicious avocados we've ever tasted. I snapped this picture (not really...I found it on google) of a grown avocado tree, old and wise - look carefully and you can descry a sense of pride emanating from the emerald green leaves. But, faithful readers, do not fear. Our little avocado will soon return to his cubi-offi-cle, where he will be showered with gifts and affection.

In the meantime, Hugo sends word from upstairs that he thinks President Bush is a "nancy-pants potty-mouth" and should stop trying to use ethanol. President Bush was contacted by the O.A., but refused comment.

Stay tuned, as I hope to eventually be able to load pictures onto my crappy computer...

AWOL

Greetings to you, the faithful reader. Hugo Chavocado has gone AWOL. Actually, we know exactly where he is, and we gave him permission to go. I just like that acronym. Basically, he's left our cozy little officle in search of warmer climes and sunnier environs. Somewhat worried about his lack of exposure to "real" sunlight, Hugo once again discussed the options with us last week. He did not feel that the close proximity to my computer screen last week (when he was shadowing me in my paralegal duties, if you'll recall) was providing him with a sufficient growing environment. And since none of you buttheads donated a plant lamp (Hugo was quite nonplussed, to say the least, at the deafening silence from his so-called "friends") or any cash for the procurement thereof of such a lamp, Hugo was left in the dark (no pun intended) on this one. He decided to go upstairs, "closer to the sun," as one colleague of mine explained to console me, for some better sprouting opportunities. I accompanied him on the fateful elevator trip on Friday evening (his first ever!) and he basked in the warm glow of the sun all weekend (no pun intended).

So instead of AWOL, Hugo has really gone UPSTAIRS. Try and figure that one out.

Hugo would also like to ask President Bush not to venture any closer to his country than Guatemala. In his most recent public statement on Bush's Latin American trip, Hugo remarked, "We have avocados, and we're not afraid to use them to make guacamole and not share ANY with the American entourage." He later added, "And we'll charge them for chips and salsa."

Keep the comments, support, and cash coming. Especially the larger bills.

Putting the Office back in Office Avocado

Hugo would like to apologize for the paucity of postings recently. His attention has been devoted entirely to shadowing me while I perform mindless office tasks. As a result, Hugo is unable to focus on growing, sprouting, or otherwise increasing his girth/width/height/stature in any manner. Also, the lack of real sunlight might be getting to him. More details on this later, but if anyone has an indoor plant light or could procure one in some manner (say, for example, if the police are about to raid your little indoor pot farm and you want to stash the evidence), we would gladly accept the gift.

For the record, we also accept gifts of money, food (especially guacamole), drinks, Starbucks products, Aeron chairs, Bugaboo strollers, and DVDs. Please don't be shy.

Hugo now has to get his deuces up, as they say in the business, but he wishes you all a fond "what up."

The Emotional Rollercoaster that is Hugo Chavocado

We are demanding guardians of our little avocado, as everyone can see. Hugo is raised under the strictest discipline with only the best education, water and opportunity. His recent foray into Joseph's personal space was perhaps, as Recorder of Pedigrees commented, a rebellion against our household. But we shall not be undermined. Hugo is still young and impressionable - an avocado plant just waiting to be molded by those who know what's best for him. We're thinking of starting him on the violin because really, you can't be a prodigy unless you start before potting. In addition, we're exposing him to a multitude of career options. Today, little Hugo Chavocado spent the day at Joseph's side, sitting next to his computer. We declared it "Avocado Job Shadow Day" (AJSD). It was heartwarming to watch Joseph explain the wonders of Introspect and exhibit labels as Hugo stared at the computer, clearly enthralled with what he saw before him. I was able to capture his look of sheer joy and exhilaration in a candid photo (right).


AJSD was a good opportunity to take Hugo's mind off of some rather disturbing comments made by Ann Coulter on Friday. He has been working on a vicious letter to Coulter, and has already written to Senators Clinton and Schumer asking for political action. In addition, Hugo asked lawyers at the firm to pursue legal action that would include Coulter's deportation to Venus (he took the book title "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" literally - we're so proud that he's reading at that level, we didn't have the heart to tell him it was a metaphor). Coulter was contacted by the O.A. for comment, but refused. Instead she sent an autographed picture of herself in front of the Confederate flag. Receipt of this picture sent Hugo into a raging tantrum, which I was also able to capture on camera (left). Despite our best efforts to shield him from the harsh world of politics, he has already become involved at a such a tender age. I can tell this is only the beginning of the Hugo Chavocado - Ann Coulter feud. Next thing we know, Hugo will be making appearances on cable news networks and lunching with lobbyists. Best to network with him now while he's confined to his water bottle (powered by Westlaw). WHO KNOWS what the future holds for Hugo Chavocado.......

Tidings of comfort and/or joy

Hugo would like to wish you all a happy Purim. He hopes your respective holiday experiences were as deep and meaningful to each and every one of you as Purim was to him this year. He also expresses his hope that none of you drove drunk over the holiday weekend (Hugo is a card-carrying member of AADD, of course). Hugo celebrated his Purim by dressing up as a budding avocado plant suspended in a giant water bottle and by sprouting another centimeter. His shell also cracked and blackened around the edges a little bit more. All in all, a very exciting weekend for him. He's pooped, to say the least, and he has a bit of a hangover.

In an oddly political move, Hugo has decided to go public and declare his outrage and disgust at Ann Coulter's recent inappropriate comments against John Edwards and homosexuality. As a card-carrying member of the ADL, the ACLU, the NAACP, the NYSE, and several other acronym-heavy agencies that require members to carry cards, Hugo boldly takes a stand against hate-speech politics and bigotry everywhere. His taking such a stand is doubly impressive, considering he's sort of just hanging and floating in water all day. But he takes his stand nonetheless. "Such remarks shall not go unanswered," Hugo remarked. He promptly donated all his cash to the Coulter-Cash fund in an effort to reach the $100,000 goal (see https://johnedwards.com/action/contribute/coulter).

For those of you who think Hugo supports inflammatory remarks by reactionary public figures just because his namesake happens to be a reactionary public figure who frequently makes inflammatory remarks... well, you're wrong. Plus, Hugo thinks Ann Coulter is a big fat idiot. And he's not at all attracted to her. Or to her money. Or to her flashy ways. Or to her silky blond hair. Or to the way her mouth bunches up in the corner when she smiles. Or to the way she looks like an angel when she sleeps, when light from the window falls across her face in just that certain way. And definitely not to her smell.

For those of you wondering where Hugo keeps all of these cards for the organizations that demand that one physically carry around an actual card: Hugo keeps them in his wallet just like everyone else. What a stupid question. He has room for all these cards now because he gave all his money to the John Edwards campaign.

When Papa's Out of Town...

The decision was made, the action was taken, and after careful process and procedure, our little Hugo Chavocado has a new home! He seems to be enjoying his new waterbottle (powered by Westlaw) and has already grown quite a bit since the transfer. At last measure, his stem is 2.5 inches. Not too shabby. As Hugo grows and flourishes, his personality has really begun to shine through that splotchy, pitty brown shell. As it turns out, he's quite the jokester! Yes, we'll often come in to find a whoopie cushion on our chairs or our desk calendars turned to the wrong month. And he quitely watches from his waterbottle (powered by Westlaw) as we are once again fooled by his tomfoolery. He really keeps us on our toes!

Now, as many of you know, Joseph has been out sick this week. Hugo seemed a bit sad, but also quite excited. If you read the previous post, you will know that Joseph is more of a disciplinarian than myself (and by disciplinarian, I mean child abuser). So, with Papa out of town, our little Hugo Chavocado roamed footloose and fancy-free about the cubicle. Some might say he went a bit too far. Rather than get involved, I thought I would document Hugo's forays with my camera....which I happen to have that day. Weird.

Left, you'll see Hugo lounging in Joseph's chair. And on the right, Hugo looks to be rummaging through Joseph's drawer. He was also seen playing with Joseph's basketball hoop, using Joseph's napkins and returning them to the napkin drawer, wearing Joseph's shoes, and staring at pictures of Joseph's girlfriend. Some might say he was slightly out of control, but I like to follow a liberal parenting strategy. Unless he's messing with MY stuff. That's not cool.

Overall Hugo had a wonderful day, full of joyful new experiences. I only wish my officemate could have been here to witness another day in the life of our little avocado. But alas, he wasn't, so instead we just messed with his stuff.

Fin.