Skip to content →

Category archive for: Personal Anecdote

Let’s Hope It’s Not Alive

I can’t be sure, but I strongly suspect the necklace I’m wearing today has become sentient. Let me explain. This morning I was debating whether or not to wear the silver necklace. I haven’t worn it for over a year, and that I even thought to wear it today was quite the peculiarity.

Anyway, I reached for the ziplog bag it usually rests in and was surprised to see that the ziplock was not closed. Rather the necklace was peaking out of the lock as though it already had its own plans this morning to exit. I didn’t think much of this at the time and put the necklace over my head.

I then walked over to a mirror to evaluate my ensemble selection for the day. Upon immediately deciding the necklace would not do, I reached to pull it over my head only to find that in the two steps between putting on the necklace and finding a mirror, the necklace had managed to entangle itself in my hair!

“I guess you get to stay on me today you devious necklace.” I said.

I then decided it wouldn’t be lady-like to have the necklace stuck in my hair, so I continued to attempt to disentangle it at the very least. Within seconds of declaring I would keep the necklace on, the necklace seemed to release my hair strands from its persuasive grasp and endear itself to me for being reasonable.

Now I sit here, content with my decision to wear this necklace today but slightly uneasy that the decision was not entirely mine.

One Comment

Crystal Ball: Scrapbooking

I don’t want to come out and say “I LOVE SCRAPBOOKING,” but I do feel like it’s appropriate to acknowledge scrapbooking as a legitimate art form that is going to be really influential in the coming decade.

You’re probably nodding your head energetically in agreement and whispering, “What of inspiration boards? What is your vision for how they will shape future generations?!”

Let us hope they play no role in shaping future generations. I only see chaos and despair when I look upon inspiration boards.

You see, once, in the fifth grade, I took a giant white poster board and taped it to my wall. The next day, I crafted the most beautiful glittery, purple grapes using only play-doh and glitter. It was truly stunning. Such craftsmanship from a 10 year old was unprecedented; the grapes and their stem were so masterfully shaped. I pasted the grapes to the white poster board, in the lower right hand corner. Every day I aspired to make something that could be glued next to the grapes, and every day I failed. I searched magazines for imagery that would make sense on the board. Nothing fit. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and years later I tore up that giant white poster board with nothing but the glittery play-doh grapes glued to it, because all it did was serve as a haunting reminder to 13-year-old-me that I peaked as an artist at the ripe age of 10.

Leave a Comment

My Emotions are Headed to Upton Abbey

I was a little surprised by how affected I was by the Downton Abbey season 3 finale. I actually called Mummy this morning and shrieked, “Don’t bother watching that series Mummy! It will win your heart and then shatter it into pieces! It can only bring unhappiness!”

Fortunately a little Internet research helped explain why the writers did what they did. The Internet also helped me remember that the characters of Downton Abbey are fictional. So, you can’t control my emotions anymore, Downton Abbey. I’m rebuilding my emotional fortress so that never again will a television show so masterfully manipulate me into loving it. Never. Again.

Leave a Comment

Reality Bits from a Saturday Afternoon

Me: David, can we go see the improv show tonight?
What I thought David would say: My love, I would follow you to the depths of the Mordor if it would make you happy.
What David said: I really don’t want to.

Me: But David please!
What I thought David would say: Okay, yes! I don’t know what I was thinking. Truly, the only thing fairer than your gentle face is your bright mind, beloved. You only have the best ideas.
What David said: It’s the same show!

Me: David it’s not the same show. It’s improv! Every show is different.
What I thought David would say: Good point my love! Let us go to the show!
What David said: I really don’t want to go.

Me: Okay, well I could go alone and we could have dinner afterward?
What I thought David would say: Alone!? Men will think you are single and make advances towards you, as you are irresistible. No. I must go with you.
What David said: I feel bad. Are you sure that’s okay?

Me: Yeah! It would be fine!
What I thought David would say: Oh you! You are too good to me! Moments apart from you are not moments worth having. I will come!
What David said: Great! I’ll see you for dinner!

Leave a Comment

Let’s Hope 2013 is Going to be Better than it Sounds

I am not looking forward to the year 2013. The number itself doesn’t bode well, and perhaps that’s why the Mayans predicted 2012 would be the end: 2013 is just such an unpleasant number. Conversely, I was really excited about the year 2007, because 2007 is such a beautiful sounding number.

Two thousand seven, the name rhymes with heaven.

Twenty thirteen, ugh, it rhymes with obscene.

You’re going to have to prove yourself 2013. You’re going to have to earn our affections.

Leave a Comment

We Don’t Appear to Mean Business

We were standing in the check-in line for Business Class for our flight, and one of the airline helpers approached us to provide some assistance.

“This line is for Business Class,” she told us, pointing to the sign.

“Yes, we are flying Business,” David agreed.

“Do you have your pass so I can check it?” she asked.

“No, we still need to check-in, “ David explained, pointing to the front of the line. I looked around as if to say, “Hence, why we are in line.”

“This is the Business Class line,” she repeated to us. “Would you like to show me your flight information?”

“I haven’t printed anything off,” David replied. She looked skeptical, so he repeated, “We’re flying business.”

And she said, “Okay.” Then she continued slowly, “When you get to the front of this line, they are going to ask if you are flying business. And if you are not, you must go all the way to the end of that line over there,” she said, pointing to the very long economy line.

We nodded.

We should have said, “No, that line looks too long. We’ll stay in this one.”

Leave a Comment

An Unfortunate Problem

I love taking pictures, but every picture I take comes out blurry. I try to blame the camera, but I have the good fortune of having access to some really spectacular cameras and lenses.

Now, this problem wouldn’t be a big deal, but I take a lot of pictures. People who pose for these pictures always say, “THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TAKING PICTURES AND CAPTURING THIS MOST IMPORTANT EVENT IN MY LIFE! I’M SO EXCITED TO SEE THESE! YOU HAVE TO SEND THEM TO ME!” and I gush, “OF COURSE!” And this is what I end up having to share:

You would think in the age of digital cameras I would know immediately that my photo is blurry, but that is not the case. I unfortunately also have a habit of drinking at events in which I am taking pictures, so at the time everything appears clear to me. I will actually look at the preview, smile, look back at the subject, and say, “Perfect. I got a good one.”

Now you’re probably muttering to yourself, “Stop drinking, Sherlock.” But alas, no, I cannot, as the drinking helps me actually follow-through on this brilliant friendly-photography troll. Every time.*

*Yeah, I actually wish this was true. I’m not a mean-spirited troll. I’m just a super incompetent photographer.

Leave a Comment

Problem Solved

Hello, the espresso machine started working again. David flipped the “On” switch, and that electrical maneuver worked wonders. Why did I not think to turn the machine on, rather than unplug everything? Well, first, it never occurred to me that anyone would turn it OFF, and second, I forgot it had an On/Off switch. But now I’ve learned, and I’ve shared this newfound knowledge with you, and we are all better for it. You are welcome.

Leave a Comment

Perhaps Not My Finest Post

As you know, Sunday is the day for “Personal Anecdote.” I thought Sundays would be the day I could come up with clever stories about my life, helping me to open up with the world and share my feelings. But I have blogger’s block. If this is how you feel about me, that is fair.

You're tacky, and I hate you.

Leave a Comment