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Month: December 2012

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!

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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.

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Bonjour Ma Cherie

Hello my dearest. I have returned from Paris, a city that lights up in the winter so brightly and beautifully that you forget how little you’ve accomplished with all the opportunities you’ve been given. “Wow, that sentence didn’t end the way I expected it to,” you think. Yes, me neither. We’ll have to explore that professional despair later though, because right now we need to discuss the wonderful fashion trend we found in Paris: Elbow patches.

Elbow patches instantly make every shirt, cardigan, and blazer outstanding. Take this hoody for example. It’s okay. Nice cut.

Now take a look at this. Boom.

You see me and you think, “Wow. Just wow. This woman is obviously an intellectual. She is that rare mix of culturally informed and socially accessible. I’m not quite sure how I know, but I do.”

If you hadn’t read this entry, you wouldn’t understand what is triggering this astute observation, but you would feel it in your heart. And then, then you would think, “I want to be her friend.” That is the power of elbow patches.

Fortunately I had the good sense to purchase not one, but two shirts with elbow patches, during my travels. I immediately put them into my ensemble rotation, and it’s only a matter of time before I am the sartorial envy of all my friends.

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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.”

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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.

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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.

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