Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Too Legal
I called a client who had some problems with the Terms and Conditions of our membership agreement. It's not all that uncommon, but from the edits sent to me, it looked like the client had crossed out entire sections, which is not so common.
When I got a hold of the client, I was told they were crossed out because those parts of the Terms and Conditions were "too legal".
too legal
When I got a hold of the client, I was told they were crossed out because those parts of the Terms and Conditions were "too legal".
too legal
2 things that make me feel like Andy Rooney
1. Winter coats with 3/4 length bell sleeves. What? Your forearms don't get cold? You like to collect wind in your sleeves?
2. There is no such thing as the following chewing gum flavors:
2. There is no such thing as the following chewing gum flavors:
- Wintermint
- Arctic Blast
- Arctic Freeze
What's more, those "flavors" don't taste nearly as good as PEPPERMINT.
I ruined the joke!
DAMN IT!
Cute guy at the deli (let me be clear, he's not really someone I'd want to date, but he's super hot in a low key kind of way and I adore joking with him). He asked me what I did for New Year's. I said I was sick (true) and stayed home. I added that it was rather enjoyable to stay home, and that NYE was really starting to lose it's sparkle for me. But, seriously, NYE lost it's sparkle around 2002, so "starting" is not exactly accurate. He said, "New Year's Eve lost it's sparkle a LONG time ago for me." To which I dryly replied, "You must be a LOT older than me." Straight faced, "I'm 75 years old." (See why I like joking with him?) Me? "I'm thirty... NINE!"
Really, genius? You lied by 3 years? Way to crap on a joke...
Then of course, I'm taking the elevator upstairs, the whole time vascillating between cringing at my part and laughing at his and then laughing at what I COULD HAVE said. When I'm thinking an emotion, it shows on my face. By the time I get to my office, I'm actually talking to myself, and one of the IT guys who normally will not afford me the dignity of eye contact walks by and hears me blathering to myself about how "I really fucked that up..."
Can I please escape me?
Cute guy at the deli (let me be clear, he's not really someone I'd want to date, but he's super hot in a low key kind of way and I adore joking with him). He asked me what I did for New Year's. I said I was sick (true) and stayed home. I added that it was rather enjoyable to stay home, and that NYE was really starting to lose it's sparkle for me. But, seriously, NYE lost it's sparkle around 2002, so "starting" is not exactly accurate. He said, "New Year's Eve lost it's sparkle a LONG time ago for me." To which I dryly replied, "You must be a LOT older than me." Straight faced, "I'm 75 years old." (See why I like joking with him?) Me? "I'm thirty... NINE!"
Really, genius? You lied by 3 years? Way to crap on a joke...
Then of course, I'm taking the elevator upstairs, the whole time vascillating between cringing at my part and laughing at his and then laughing at what I COULD HAVE said. When I'm thinking an emotion, it shows on my face. By the time I get to my office, I'm actually talking to myself, and one of the IT guys who normally will not afford me the dignity of eye contact walks by and hears me blathering to myself about how "I really fucked that up..."
Can I please escape me?
Friday, January 2, 2009
A holiday play in one act, with four characters
My mother's living room during the Christmas holiday. My mother, my brother, my sister-in-law and myself sitting around discussing things and watching TV.
Myself: (lightly rubbing my chin with my index finger) I have another chin hair.
My Sister-in-Law: Yeah, I get those too. I'm kind of hairy.
Myself: No you're not. You showed me your belly and you don't even have a love trail. I have to pluck love trail hairs out of my tattoo.
My Sister-in-Law: Well, look at my arm hair. You don't have ANY arm hair.
Myself: True. I don't have any arm hair. And I only have to shave my legs once a week.
My Sister-in-Law: My leg hair grows back quick. I have a hair that grows out of my forehead.
My Sister-in-Law reaches up to her forehead to search for her stray chin/forehead hair.
My Sister-in-Law: Hey! I found it!
My Sister-in-Law pulls the chin/forehead hair to extend it to its full length.
Myself: No WAY!
My Sister-in-Law grabs near the root of her chin/forehead hair and pulls the hair free from its root and hands the hair to Myself to inspect.
Myself holds the hair up to the light for further inspection, fascinated.
Myself: Wow! This is just like the hairs I pull from my chin. So crazy, it's growing from your forehead.
My Sister-in-Law: Yeah, I know!
My Mother: I never talked about this stuff, and I always thought it was just me.
Myself: Well, that's why women talk about this stuff now. So we don't think we're crazy.
My Mother: Yeah, I get it.
My Brother: (complete silence)
FIN
Myself: (lightly rubbing my chin with my index finger) I have another chin hair.
My Sister-in-Law: Yeah, I get those too. I'm kind of hairy.
Myself: No you're not. You showed me your belly and you don't even have a love trail. I have to pluck love trail hairs out of my tattoo.
My Sister-in-Law: Well, look at my arm hair. You don't have ANY arm hair.
Myself: True. I don't have any arm hair. And I only have to shave my legs once a week.
My Sister-in-Law: My leg hair grows back quick. I have a hair that grows out of my forehead.
My Sister-in-Law reaches up to her forehead to search for her stray chin/forehead hair.
My Sister-in-Law: Hey! I found it!
My Sister-in-Law pulls the chin/forehead hair to extend it to its full length.
Myself: No WAY!
My Sister-in-Law grabs near the root of her chin/forehead hair and pulls the hair free from its root and hands the hair to Myself to inspect.
Myself holds the hair up to the light for further inspection, fascinated.
Myself: Wow! This is just like the hairs I pull from my chin. So crazy, it's growing from your forehead.
My Sister-in-Law: Yeah, I know!
My Mother: I never talked about this stuff, and I always thought it was just me.
Myself: Well, that's why women talk about this stuff now. So we don't think we're crazy.
My Mother: Yeah, I get it.
My Brother: (complete silence)
FIN
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