Star Wars Fans, We Are

Overheard while working from home:

IT guy: Go ahead and turn off your wifi, wait 10 seconds, and turn it back on.

Customer: Okay, but it's in the other room, so I have to go in there. Stand by.

IT guy: Red 6, standing by.

Customer: I'll stay on target.

How Not to Do Conversation

Photo credit: "Coffee" by AussieRalph, via Creative Commons

An amusing memory, from back when we sat in coffee shops:

Dear Middle-Aged Dude at the Next Table, 

You are never going to strike up a conversation with me by:

1. Asking me why there are so many feminists "ruining this town."

2. Responding to my brief lament about Florida's appetite for development with, "Well, that's the liberal point of view."

3. Telling me how difficult it is to find a quiet place around here.

On that last point, sir, you have no idea.

Not Surprising

Me (about a week ago): Uh-oh, I'd better cancel my Disney Plus subscription, now that I've watched Hamilton to my heart's content. It's only $6.99 a month but that will add up over time.

Also Me (after logging in): Whoa, they have The Princess Bride on here!

[98 minutes later] 

Also Me: And Beauty and the Beast!

[the next day]

Disney Plus: Welcome! Your subscription has been continued for another month.

Say What?

After nearly a year of growing my hair out from a hideously short and awkward bob, I recently took the plunge and went shorter again. This time I love the cut -- feminine and messy, designed to work with my natural wave. Whew! And hooray!

A major cut is always liberating. I feel lighter, somehow. It also feels good to be stylish and looking my best again. As an added bonus, the new 'do has received rave reviews from everyone at the office. I would like it regardless, but universal acclaim is not to be taken lightly.

My stylist recommended that I get a diffuser, so I can dry my hair quickly without messing up the natural waves. I ordered one from Amazon and it arrived promptly. Fortunately, it fits my hairdryer quite well.

The description on the box, however, is a little outsized:

Classic Functional Cover G8
Professional Modelling "Strong Wind"
Function: When hairdressing, firstly treat hair wit Hair Gel or Mucus Foam, then blow it with hair Blow Dryer which its outlet is covered by the Concentrator. This way to dry and style hair it will not be scattered and has perfect effecft.

Alas, no mention of the cat-eared thing in the top right corner of the picture. When I placed the order, I thought it was a ring for hanging the diffuser up. Now I realize it's a separate item -- folded neatly and individually wrapped -- but I have no idea what to do with it.

Not to mention, I'm fresh out of Mucus Foam.

That'll Work

Overheard at the office:

Boss: I'm leaving early today because we're taking the kids to the Polar Express ride tonight.

Staff member: Oooh, that sounds like fun. (Realizing the Polar Express passengers will be a hundred kids excited about Christmas and filled with the sugary fuel of cookies and hot chocolate.) Do you have ear plugs?

Boss: No, but I have a flask.

This Year I'm Going as the Grammar Police

And 100% of those children are wondering what happened to all their Halloween candy.

Adulting

Overheard in the classroom, after class:

Student: I'm sorry I missed class last time. I just couldn't get out of bed.

Professor: Oh dear. I'm sorry to hear that. Did you have that flu that's going around?

Student: No, but I've only been sleeping about 3 hours a night and it caught up with me.

Professor: That sounds terrible. I'm concerned about you. You can't get by on so little sleep. Are you worried about something?

Student: No. But my friends and I are in the middle of a really great adventure in Dungeons & Dragons, and I'm the Dungeon Master.

Professor: Well, I played when I was in college and I know how engrossing it can be. Just be careful you aren't jeopardizing your grades and your health with too much D&D and not enough sleep. Keep things in balance, you know?

Professor (thinking): Let me tell you about the time we found a +3 magic war hammer! 

Taxes, and a Puzzle

I had to pay in this year on my taxes, thanks to the unintended consequences of working 3 jobs. Soon this kind of complexity will be a thing of the past!

While I was preparing to write my check (ouch!), I happened to notice some interesting language on the instructions page that went with my payment coupon.

Seriously?

I find it hard to believe that those $100 million checks are frequent enough that they need to devote an entire paragraph to it.

Must've been a slow day in the Forms Department that day.

That Makes Two of Us

A vignette from yesterday:

Me: [accidentally activates Google assistant on my cellphone while putting phone away]

Assistant (muffled, from inside my purse): What can I help you with today?

Me (to myself): What the hell was that???

Assistant: I'm not sure.

If You Say So

Overheard in the car, late at night:

Passenger: That guy we were talking to, he owns a bacco company.

(Pause.)

Driver (skeptical): Wait, who owns a tobacco company???

Passenger: Not a tobacco company, a bacco company.

(Pause.)

Passenger: No "to."

(Pause.)

Driver: What's a bacco?

Passenger: A machine you dig ditches with.

(Pause, then uproarious laughter from both.)

Driver: You mean a backhoe!

Passenger: That's what I said. Bacco.

(Prolonged hysterical laughter from both.)

Driver: Backhoe. Back-hoe. Back hoe. Not "bacco"!

Passenger: You need to listen better.

Driver: You need to learn to enunciate.

Photo: science.howstuffworks.com

Hard to Say

My friend Karen's partner Glenda recently retired. Glenda has worked for many years in emergency services, accustomed to a tight schedule and being very structured and productive in her off hours.

Karen, on the other hand, pursues multiple occupations with aplomb, flowing fluidly from one to the other while always saving some time for life's finer pursuits.

As an introduction to retirement, Karen convinced Glenda to spend an evening sitting on the back deck, watching the sunset. After a few minutes, Glenda turned to Karen and asked, "How long is this gonna take?"

Score One for Accuracy

We've been having an incredibly rainy summer. Sometimes it rains in the morning, which is weird for this area. Our usual weather pattern is hot and sunny most of the day, giving the clouds time to build up in the west and sweep overhead with thunder and lightning galore, creating all kinds of excitement for about 15 minutes. This usually happens in the early afternoon (just in time to catch me returning from lunch) or around 3 p.m. (fine by me) or quite often around 5 p.m. (adding an extra dimension to the evening commute). And sometimes it socks in and rains all evening.

Florida is supposed to be water-soaked, so I have no problem with this -- although I have to wonder what in the heck we'll do if we have a hurricane when the river is already at flood stage.

Meanwhile, all these rainy days played havoc with the baseball schedule. The local summer wood bat league has navigated its season and playoffs have begun. I've become more diligent about attending, as the end of the season nears.

Yesterday it rained early and the start was delayed. I went to the ballpark at the usual time, and was literally the only person in the stands for about 15 minutes. Then a few more dedicated spectators appeared, and the announcer felt obliged to let us know what was going on.

"LADY and gentlemen," he said, "tonight's game will begin at 7:15."

Attention to Detail?

Um, not so much.

Avoiding mistakes? Not a chance.

Overheard While Watching Football

This is from last year, but it's still relevant:

She: You know, Tom Brady is married to one of the most beautiful supermodels in the world. [checks phone] Look, see, here's Gisele's picture. Isn't she incredible?

He: A man would get tired of that.

She: [skeptical look]

He: Eventually.

Photo credit: SI.com

In a Good Way, I Hope

I finally received my student evaluations for last semester's Environmental Ethics class and was very pleased with how the students rated the course and my teaching.

I'm glad the ratings were good. Otherwise this comment might have not been very flattering:

"Professor __________ is an expert on everything." 

Okay By Me

Photo: comicbook.com

I went to lunch by myself the other day.

When I reviewed my check, I noticed the server had identified me as "Lady Solo."

Okay, so not quite Jedi material, but good enough. Especially considering the way I've always felt about Harrison Ford.

Well, Okay Then

She: How old am I going to be this year? Fifty-eight?

He: Yes, that's right; you're going to be 58.

(pause)

She: Wow. How did I get to be so old?

He: Well, you still have some time left.

She: Before I'm old?

He: Before your birthday.

More of That Synchronicity Stuff

I just love it. Maybe I'm actually living in the flow and don't know it, because this also happened:

A woman came into the library's book store recently and was looking for books by a particular author. I'm not sure what she said, exactly, except she knew how to say his name correctly. You can make up your own beautiful sounds--it's far too complex for me to attempt in writing. It quite something to hear the properly pronounced and accented name: "Paulo Coelho."

I could see that my coworker wasn't getting it. I wasn't completely sure that I was getting it, either, but somehow I knew what I needed to do: I translated. "She means Paul-oh COLE-hoe," I said. Yes, that's exactly who she meant! We didn't have the book on hand, but she's on the waiting list now.

Later that same day, as I'm reading along in Ilustrado (a novel set in the Philippines, for goodness' sake), what do I read? One of the characters says she likes a local author, but that "He's no Paulo Coelho."

I mean really, what are the chances?

For the record, Paulo Coelho is a Brazilian lyricist and novelist, and his book The Alchemist, already on my TBR list, has moved up quite a few notches. I'm thinking it's probably time for me to read it, given all these hints from the Universe.

Saturday Night Ain't What It Used to Be

She: So I think I'm going to put on . . .  (becomes distracted by the phone)

He: Your dancing shoes?

She:  . . . my pajamas.

Tell Me More

Woman on cellphone (walking into the post office): "Are you telling me you didn't know anything about him selling the sheep or the fire department coming because he tried to burn the house down?"

I think it's fair to say that she had the attention of all 15 people ahead of her in line.

Unfortunately, while this question still hung in the air, the clerk called me to the desk to mail my packages. It's the only time I can recall wishing the line was just a little bit longer.