sisterly love

Facebook is a special place where you can have even more special conversations. Ahem.

12/10/2010 LRH: um.

12/16/2010 LRH: so yeah.

12/17/2010 JW: okay

01/05/2011 LRH: psha

01/10/2011 HH: zif

LRH: zif zif

01/11/2011 HH: whatevaaarr

JW: eee er eee er eee er

01/12/2011 HH: your butt goes eee er eee er eee er!

JW: Your mouth goes... uh, never mind.

LRH: no, no, its your face!

HH: Where did A. learn that again?

JW: Aunt H.

HH: zif

JW: so, you acknowledge your guilt?

JW: Laura's face? Yes, Laura's.

LRH: what-evar

most unlikely conversation

Setting: the steps in the church foyer

Date: two Sundays ago

Parties Present: me. Anna. Six missionaries.

----

Anna doesn't speak English (picture a sixty something Salvadoran grandma). I don't speak Spanish. I do keep a spanish/english dictionary in my church bag though. Our weekly ritual is to sit on the steps of the foyer before church and attempt to have a conversation. I am there early because DH has meetings. She is there early because she feels like it..I guess.

Today I was attempting to explain that I like my glasses, but I don't like wearing them. My dictionary wasn't that helpful in figuring out how to say "wear" but we finally figured out it is llevar. Then luckily the six missionaries that serve in our ward boundaries showed up (early for their ward council appearance) and I immediately asked them to assist.

Me: "So I thought that llevar was to carry, not wear?

Missionary 1: "Well it means both."

Anna: "No me gustan sus zapatos."

Me: "Apparently she doesn't like my shoes."

At this point the dictionary has fallen open to a very special page. The words at the top of the page caught my eye--"bathing trunks." So naturally I ask the missionaries (one of which is a native spanish speaker) for more information. While most missionaries in the area learn Spanish, the native speaker has learned English.

Me: So what are bathing trunks? Taparrabo? Is that like swim trunks?

Missionary 2: {laughter...followed by incomprehensible rapid spanish}

Missionary 1: I think it's the word for speedo.

Me: like they bathe in a speedo?

Missionary 2: no, but it's like Tarzan's outfit.

Anna: Taparrabo? Tarzan? {cackle cackle}

Missionary 1: or like a loincloth

Then we all laughed for 10 minutes and they all learned that I cry when I laugh too hard.

Later DH told me that Missionary 2 told him to ask me what word I learned today.

Now I can say "loincloth" in Spanish and know that I learned it from a missionary.

urban slang to the rescue

"I don't know many office managers who would take a punch for somebody"

"I don't think he meant to"

"He clocked him"

"He punched him out?"

"No, clocked"

"Whats a clock"

"Maybe lets do a demonstration"

Apparently "clock" is not the same as "punch." Urban Dictionary says "to hit someone."

Unfortunately the demonstration came to nothing. For the record, I was not a participant in this conversation. Of course I have never used clocked in a sentence though. Yet.

Rolos

So I was buying fish. (Yes, DH, you're getting trout for dinner. Lucky you.)

Behind me in line was this little girl buying two packages of rolos. The grocer guy starts off talking to her saying, "Van Blyck? Van Boren? Van __(fill in the blank)___." He lists off 7 or 8 Van Something names.

Little girl: You didn't guess Van Halen.

Grocer guy: Well...They're kind of before your time.

Little girl: (silence).

Grocer guy: But I liked them better when it was David Lee Roth and not that other guy. You know what I'm talking about?

Little girl: No.

Grocer guy: Good. Let's keep it that way.

I think I missed something crucial in understanding this exchange.

follow up on Schrödinger's cat t-shirt

I was wearing it  yesterday when I went to vote in the special election. The first volunteer who saw me had a big bushy beard and glasses. 

He looked at my shirt and said, "how can you be so sure?"

I replied, "I'm not." And turned around so he could see the back. 

See shirt post. 

on the trail

I emailed John McCain. That's right. I wrote, "Can I borrow your water level meter?"

It's true there's a John McCain at my firm, as mentioned in a previous post. In that post I mentioned that I knew who he was, but we'd never spoken. But I feel speaking is imminent.

4:20 pm, yesterday: I email John McCain.
5:05 pm, yesterday: John McCain emails me back.
8:15 am, today: I leave a message on John McCain's answering machine.

Now it's all a waiting game.

---update---
9:24 am, today: We speak.

The end.

paging sarah palin

I don't blog about politics. Thus, I am not currently blogging about politics. You may proceed safely.

9/26/08, 10 AM

Setting: I'm sitting quietly at work when I hear the receptionist page someone over the loudspeaker.

Loudspeaker: John McCain, please dial extension 3222.

(A John McCain really does work for my firm. I've seen him, but we've yet to speak. )

5 minutes pass.

Loudspeaker: Sarah Palin, please dial the operator.

And...a bunch of geologists erupt laughing from 100 feet away.

The last time this happened was a few months ago when someone got the receptionist to page Seymour Butts to a certain extension. I convinced my cube neighbor to dial the extension and say Seymour Butts was calling.

Our poor receptionist. She's not really up on politics.

lunch room ladies part 2

Today I made the mistake of acknowledging that I heard the conversation going on in the lunch room. As they ate, the admin ladies were trying to remember a movie where a manikin comes to life, and I thought I knew one possible answer. I joined in the conversation (while across the room at the sink washing my bowl) saying something I thought might be of interest to them on that topic.

The reply: "uh huh." Then silence.

I somehow managed to hault their conversational progress by participating.

Lesson learned.

survival

Even though not inspired, this is what was on my mind today. Part 1, of course.

How to survive at work.

1:

When in need of amusement, be sure to go in the break room during lunch to refill your water bottle or wash something. The admin ladies (taking their forced lunch hour) talk very loudly on a variety of topics—the more amusing when heard only in snippets.

Today’s snippet:

“I didn’t know she was a transvestite. Is she taking hormones?”

“What about Dexter? Have you seen him? He’s the complete opposite.”

I have no idea who Dexter is. I mistakenly thought she was asking if anyone had watched Dexter’s Laboratory on Cartoon Network (my favorite cartoon! Especially the episode at the ant colony where Dee Dee does her dance and saves the day).

2.

Water your plants. The free baby plant that came with your cube can be your best friend. Invest in a $5 pot. Beware of overwatering…

If you have a plant that flowers, take a picture immediately. The flower will be dead within 48 hours. Insert company name here sucks the life out of everything.

Someone gave me a bromeliad for my birthday last August. It bloomed its one long awaited flower 2 months later—on a Friday. It was dead when I came back Monday. Sigh. At least I have a picture:) See above photo.

yes, we have no bananas

I eat breakfast at work these days. It is much better than trying to eat at 6:30 am. If I eat before I leave for work then I am invariably hungry again midmorning at the same time I would have eaten if I'd just waited to eat at work. So, this morning I am in the break room cutting a banana into a bowl of plain yogurt when a co-worker comes in. He sees what I am doing and says:

"You know, you could just buy yogurt that already has bananas in it."

I am speechless. I know not how to reply to this gross misunderstanding of fresh fruit. I mutter something about how it's cheaper this way and has less sugar, but am glad when he finally leaves so I can cut my banana in peace. Me and my banana.

Some people just don't understand.

Act 3

Setting: Home.

Daddy: Even if you forget most of a book, you still take things from it that you learn.
Me: Yes, but that's not true for all books. I've read lots of stupid books from which I learned nothing, except that they were stupid.
Mom: [Laughs for 5 minutes.] You should put that on your blog.


And so I have. I said a funny thing, apparently, and now I share it with you. I know that since you have read this post, your life will never be the same. Indeed, your breathing pattern may alter and your life will improve in multiple dimensions.

no. 5

I had a job interview today. The receptionist asked about my "accent." That makes five people.

Act 2

Setting: Ward linger longer. I had made banana bread, and brought it to share during the meal.

Jenna: How does the squash bisque taste, Libby?
Libby: I'll let you know how it is.
Libby:(to me) And I'll let you know how your bread is.
Me: You don't need to let me know how my bread is, I already know how it tastes. It always tastes the same.
[Meanwhile Libby tries the bread.]
Me: Does it taste ok?
Libby: You just told me you already know how it tastes.
Me: Well, it turns out different every time. Is it ok?
Libby: You just barely said that it's the same every time.

[I am a raving lunatic.]

a brit am i

Now there are four people who have commented on my "accent."

Person 1--Male. Tall. Odd.
David: Did you get your accent from your mom?
Me: What accent?
David: Your british accent. It comes and goes.
Me: I don't have a british accent. And what would my mom have to do with it?
David: Yes you do. And your mom is british.
Me: No she isn't.

Person 2--Female. Not odd at all.
Me: David thinks I have a british accent. That is so funny.
Sam: You do. It comes and goes.

Person 3--Male. Sat down next to him at a wedding, and this conversation took place within 30 seconds.
Forgothisname: What's your accent?
Me: I don't have an accent. I'm not from anywhere that has an accent.
Forgothisname: Yes you do. It sounds british.
Me: People keep telling me I have an accent. I don't have an accent.
Forgothisname: Maybe it's more of a poetical enunciation.

Person 4--Female. Russian. It took place last Sunday within 30 seconds of meeting her.
Olga: Are you english?
Me: No, why?
Olga: Sounds like you have an accent.
Me: Funny, you're not the first person to say that.
Olga: Are you trying to have an accent?
Me: Er..no... [did she really just ask me that?]

------

And so. I repeat, I don't have an accent. So what if I read too much and never say "my bad." I am not related to anyone with a british accent.

Latest blunder: I substitute tutored a 3rd grader tonight. She finished her homework and so we started to play SORRY. I was winning, and when our time was up she got up and glared at me. I said, it was nice to meet you. She said, it wasn't nice to meet you, and ran out. Nice.
Note to self: let third graders win board games in future.

Act 1: Scenes 1 - 3

And so. I decided a few months ago that I should carry a voice recorder around with me (figuratively) and record my conversations. Then I'd put them in a book and sell it and be rich, because of course, my conversations with people are...odd. (I am not really going to make a book, sorry to dash your hopes.)

And so, here begins my first three scenes of seemingly unconnected events (which, in fact, are unconnected, if you suspected otherwise).

---Scene 1---10/17/06, 8:30 pm.

Setting: Me, standing 10 feet from a pillar, talking to the aforementioned Libby, who suddenly answers the phone.

Adam: mumble mumble [This person was not in the setting because he came out of nowhere.]
Me: what?
Adam: Good job singing.
Me: Oh. Thanks. [I may or may not have sung that night...in a choir.]
Adam: mumble mumble
Me: huh?
Adam: I'm going to go to the bathroom now.
Me: Ok, you have a good time.

[Why does this person tell me he is going to the bathroom? I barely know him. Lucky me.]

---end of scene 1---

---Scene 2---10/17/06, 8:54 pm.

Setting: Me, leaning against a pillar talking to a boy in a suit in MemChu (aka, stanford memorial church). (Ok, ok, it's the same pillar as in scene 1. But the events are still unconnected.)

Nathan: You look melancholy.
Me: No, this is me, being meditative. Do you meditate on one of those round black cushion things?
Nathan: Did you just ask me if I have a round black pillow that I sit on to meditate?
Me: No. It was a fake question.

[And I wasn't even being sarcastic on the last line. Why do I say such stupid things? Needless to say, the scene ended soon after.]

---end of scene 2---

---Scene 3---10/18/06, 11:15 am.

Setting: Me, standing outside Blume Center, in the sun, staring at the ground.

[Shadow approaches, and stops.
I look up at the shadow. Behold, a person. A person I know.]

Me: Hi.
Josh: Are you waiting for someone?
Me: no..
Josh: So, you just thought you'd stop because you'd come to the stop sign?
[I look upward. The pole next to me does indeed have a stop sign attached. It is a funny thing.]
Me: no. I came to be warm. [Because I was cold..obviously.]
Josh: Oh.
Me: Happy Birthday two days ago.
Josh: Thanks. Oh yeah, it's birthday donut day. I'm going to go get one.
Me: Bye. Have fun eating donut.

[I continue to stare at the pavement..standing at the corner, adjacent to two crosswalks, at the stop sign.]

---end of scene 3---