When stickers attack, or how Danielle learned to love cellophane tape
In what has to be the oddest thing I’ve ever blogged about regarding one of my co-workers over the years, I gladly link to this article in Friday’s Providence Journal, where G. Wayne Miller mentions Danielle Bagdzinski’s recent affliction with a #10 sticker affixing it to her in her sleep in early January.
Danielle, who is clearly the most obsessed Eli Manning fan I’ve ever come across (no, really), woke up on January 5 with a sticker with a green “10″ on it stuck to her finger (10 is Giants’ QB Eli Manning’s number, if you weren’t already aware), and has kept the sticker on some part of her body ever since. This amuses me so much that I’m not even sure what to do with it, especially with the fact that she has an FAQ for the sticker and how she wears it, and that I know all the parties involved, including the one with the tape that Danielle mugs every morning to stick the sticker to herself.
And you thought your boyfriends / husbands / significant others were superstitious? I think they all pale in comparison to Ms. Bagdzinski. I, for one, welcome our #10 sticker overlords.
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