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So That Happened

On Sunday, David and I walked into the town pharmacy. The teenager behind the counter turned around, saw me, and said, “Wow.”

I smiled at him; it was the lSo east I could do for someone so taken with me.

“I thought you were my mother,” he said.

My smile faded immediately.

I calmly replied, “I hope you’re referring to a young floozy your father recently married and not the woman who originally spawned you.”

He shook his head, “No.”

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International Star

  1. I performed comedy in another country last weekend, no big deal. The 12-15 person crowd roared with polite applause after the performance, and there may have even been a standing ovation. The lights were so bright; I have no way of knowing for sure whether they remained seated in an orderly manner or jumped to their feet.
  2. I re-read The History of Love for my book group. It was still beautiful. Perhaps it was even better the second time. I identified most with the 10 year old who thinks he’s an angel wandering this earth to do good, secretly. But I wanted to identify most with the precocious daughter who solves a puzzle she stumbles upon. In book group there were some people who thought the relationships in the book were all broken, but I disagreed. The characters found loves of their lives. And they were loved back. That’s the best thing that can happen to someone, even if it’s short-lived.
  3. The best character in the book wrote in lists, and I liked that a lot, so that’s what I’ve done here.

 

 

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Germs

I was at the laboratory in the doctor’s office today for some blood work. The room had posters about the importance of washing your hands and general cleanliness guidance all around it. People in the room are not supposed to eat, drink, use chap stick, or apply make-up, because all of these things facilitate germ transfer.

I had my water bottle with me, and I asked if I could put it on the table. “Can I put this right here?” I asked, hovering the bottle over a table.

The nurse looked at me, then at the table, and said, “I wouldn’t. That table is dirty.”

“Oh! Thank you for honesty!” I replied.

Then I fumbled with my water bottle clumsily, but the whole time I was thinking, “WHY IS A TABLE IN THIS ROOM DIRTY?”

 

 

 

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Chess Master

I’ve recently taken up chess on my phone, because no one will play with me in real life. And to be clear: the reason people are avoiding playing with me is NOT that I’m very good. I’m terrible.

I’m so terrible it’s embarrassing for my loved ones to watch. And they refuse to help me improve by continuing to play with me, and now I have to play against a computer on Level 2 (the second lowest level) and experience defeat privately several times a day.

On the phone, you can set it so that a buzzer goes off before you are about to make a mistake, to help you improve. The sound goes “Egh.” So all David hears when I play is:

Game: Egh

Game: Egh

Game: Egh

Game: Egh

Me: (make strong executive decision and move a piece)

Me: Oops!

 

 

 

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At My Wit’s End (Not really)

I just saw someone on Facebook describe their two year old as “witty.” I wanted to write, “Hello! Is your kid a prodigy who has mastered the nuances of the human condition, or are we just throwing that word around now?”

Instead, I just liked the post, because I’m not a monster. I’ll talk to that kid one day, and judge for myself.

 

 

 

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Hell Hath No Fury

….like that of a woman who has been trying to get pregnant, but is not yet.

Is that the expression?

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