You know when you send a text on your phone, and you can insert a "Canned Message"? The ones on my phone are things like "Running late - see you in 15", "Can't talk now - in a meeting", "Love you too!" or "Where are you?"
These canned messages are, supposedly, things that you would say (text) so often that it would just be easier to go into the canned message folder and select the appropriate response.
I have noticed lately that real-life conversations have similar habits as canned messages on your phone. The ultimate example is the typical meet-you-on-the-street conversation:
"Hi Sally!"
"Hi Maria! How are you?"
"Good, thanks! How about you?"
"Oh good! And how are you?" (I love when this happens - when you forget that you already asked the person how they are, and you ask again...hahahaha....)
To buck the trend here, I always say "FABULOUS!!!" when someone asks me how I am. Even if I'm far from fabulous, I still say it. Many people are taken aback and say "Fabulous?" and give me a funny look. Some people say "Oh, I wish I was fabulous".... here is where I roll my eyes and think to myself...you CAN be fabulous, you just have to stop thinking of yourself as drab, boring and annoying.... Even though I think they are drab, boring and annoying....
The majority of canned conversations I've encountered recently have to do with babies, since I have a 15-month old boy.
It started when he was a baby:
"Is he a good baby?" (As if babies could be bad??!!)
"Is he sleeping through the night?" (Um, no, he's a baby and needs to nurse during the night)
Then, progressed once he got older:
"Oh, he's crawling now? HAH BA HA HEEEE, I bet you're one busy mom now!!" (As if I didn't expect it??)
"I bet he's just getting into everything!" (Yes, babies are supposed to be curious, and I like it when he 'gets into' things)
And once he started walking? Oh my, can you just imagine all the smug "HOOoooh boy, I bet you never stop running now!!" comments?
Seriously people. Get original. I'm sick of hearing the exact same conversations wherever I go. Break out from the mold and be fabulous once in a while!!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Hold Me
I went out for supper with my sisters the other night. We were jabbering and I was telling a story about something I recently experienced. I was barely even started into the story before they both enthusiastically exclaimed "BLOG POST!"
I guess they were right - it would be a good blog post. At least this way I can get through my story without a sister spitting nacho chips and artichoke dip across the table at me.
So, here it is. A blog post about telemarketers. But not the typical "telemarketers are so stupid" complaint. Because when the subject of telemarketers comes up, no matter where you are, the dialogue and things people say are always the same. They brag about how they like to challenge the poor employee to an intellectual battle, or leave the phone off the hook and walk away, or ask the employee if they could call their house at suppertime. And then they giggle and chortle at their original cleverness.
No. This is different.
The phone rings. I look at the number. I don't recognize it, but we get overseas calls from family so I answer anyway.
Here is the conversation:
Hallo!
*silence*
Hello? (Patiently - because sometimes overseas calls take a bit to connect)
*silence*
Hallooooooooo....? (Getting slightly perterbed)
*computer recording, cheerfully* Hello! This is a VERY important call. Please hold while we connect you to one of our representitives. *cue Celine Dion music*
Ok. Did you catch that?
They called ME, and then put ME on hold! They didn't even say who they were!
Then I got thinking...what kind of people think this tactic will work? Who thought up this genius idea? I almost want to wait the awful music out to see what the company is. But on the other hand I don't want to validate them by waiting. I just do. not. understand. how anyone could ever think that this was a good idea! .
I imagine this - they are a bunch of brush-cut professionals in suits and ties, sitting around a mahogany committee table. Oooh, the mahogany makes me think that they are all smoking pipes and talking in a British accent. Maybe they even have their hands over the side of their overstuffed chaires, petting a loyal foxhound. And scratch the ties - they are wearing tweed suits with bowties! Brilliant! I bet the company wants to know our opinion on fox hunting in the 21st century. Maybe when I get these calls, I can just say "Tally Ho!" and they'll leave me alone?
I guess they were right - it would be a good blog post. At least this way I can get through my story without a sister spitting nacho chips and artichoke dip across the table at me.
So, here it is. A blog post about telemarketers. But not the typical "telemarketers are so stupid" complaint. Because when the subject of telemarketers comes up, no matter where you are, the dialogue and things people say are always the same. They brag about how they like to challenge the poor employee to an intellectual battle, or leave the phone off the hook and walk away, or ask the employee if they could call their house at suppertime. And then they giggle and chortle at their original cleverness.
No. This is different.
The phone rings. I look at the number. I don't recognize it, but we get overseas calls from family so I answer anyway.
Here is the conversation:
Hallo!
*silence*
Hello? (Patiently - because sometimes overseas calls take a bit to connect)
*silence*
Hallooooooooo....? (Getting slightly perterbed)
*computer recording, cheerfully* Hello! This is a VERY important call. Please hold while we connect you to one of our representitives. *cue Celine Dion music*
Ok. Did you catch that?
They called ME, and then put ME on hold! They didn't even say who they were!
Then I got thinking...what kind of people think this tactic will work? Who thought up this genius idea? I almost want to wait the awful music out to see what the company is. But on the other hand I don't want to validate them by waiting. I just do. not. understand. how anyone could ever think that this was a good idea! .
I imagine this - they are a bunch of brush-cut professionals in suits and ties, sitting around a mahogany committee table. Oooh, the mahogany makes me think that they are all smoking pipes and talking in a British accent. Maybe they even have their hands over the side of their overstuffed chaires, petting a loyal foxhound. And scratch the ties - they are wearing tweed suits with bowties! Brilliant! I bet the company wants to know our opinion on fox hunting in the 21st century. Maybe when I get these calls, I can just say "Tally Ho!" and they'll leave me alone?
Monday, March 7, 2011
Collection of Quirks
What are your quirks? I've recently been thinking about the things that I hate, that make other people go, "huhh? That bugs you??"
Here's my list!
- The Macaroni Sound - you know, the squishing, squelching, disgusting sound of cheesy macaroni being stirred in a big pot. PUKE!!!
- Potato Eyes - there's a story to this one...when I was in college, my mom gave me a box of potatoes. I put them behind the door in my dorm, in a nice dark, cool corner. When I went to get a potato to cook a while later, I lifted the lid to get a beautiful, round, red, potato, and I was bombarded with CREEPY POTATO EYES!!! They had started sprouting in the box and all I could see were potato stalactites (or is it stalagmites?). Freaked me right out. Now, I can't even touch one of those furry purple potato eyes. My husband bugs me about it all the time, and has been known to chase me around the kitchen with a growing potato. *shudder*
- Sometimes my fingernails feel like they are 'sticking' to the skin underneath, and I have to pull the skin away or it gives me the heebie-jeebies.
- I am terrified of the dark. I've been able to control it since our baby was born, and I've had to stumble around in the dark with no choice in the matter. But often, when I'm coming back from the nursery, I do that silly "I'm-not-actually-scared" run/walk and then dive into bed. My understanding husband will cuddle with me and gently say, "Snakes?" And I nod, make sure every appendage is safely under the covers, and snuggle into him.
- I HATE cold dishwater or bathwater. Especially the dishwater that you've been soaking that disgusting casserole dish in. It gives my belly the woopie-wawpees. This is another thing that my stellar husband will rescue me from, no questions asked. He's the best :D
- I get really bugged when someone switches the song on the radio halfway through. If you hear the first couple notes of a song and don't like it, you need to change it NOW. If you're too stupid to recognize that it's a song you don't like, you deserve to be forced to listen to the whole thing.
- When I'm cutting sweet potatoes, I NEED to eat some of it. I've tried to resist, but my mouth waters like crazy and I feel all weird inside unless I take a nice big chomp of crunchy yam. mmmmm!!!
- I'm very picky about bananas. I love to eat them, as bananas. But I HATE them in fruit salad (what a way to ruin a good fruit salad! The poor grapes, apples, oranges and kiwis don't deserve such torture!), smoothies (the first time I got a Booster Juice, I accidentally ordered one that had a banana in it, and I almost cried. My husband can also attest to this. He even offered to switch smoothies with me, but his had a banana in it too. Tragic!), and cereal (ICK! Cheerioes and bananas? Gag me!). But, I love banana bread.
I also will.not.eat a banana that has any black on the skin. I believe this is hereditary, because my mom always comments on how my dad is a princess when it comes to bananas. If you ask my dad about this, he would probably say "I have no idea what you're talking about. I have no recollection of this!". But it's true. Because of this affliction, when there's a banana with black on it, I will strategically place it in the fruit bowl so that my husband eats it. [insert maniacal laughter here]
These are all the ones I can think of for now. This might be a recurring blog post theme as I think of more!
Comment with your quirks!
Here's my list!
- The Macaroni Sound - you know, the squishing, squelching, disgusting sound of cheesy macaroni being stirred in a big pot. PUKE!!!
- Potato Eyes - there's a story to this one...when I was in college, my mom gave me a box of potatoes. I put them behind the door in my dorm, in a nice dark, cool corner. When I went to get a potato to cook a while later, I lifted the lid to get a beautiful, round, red, potato, and I was bombarded with CREEPY POTATO EYES!!! They had started sprouting in the box and all I could see were potato stalactites (or is it stalagmites?). Freaked me right out. Now, I can't even touch one of those furry purple potato eyes. My husband bugs me about it all the time, and has been known to chase me around the kitchen with a growing potato. *shudder*
- Sometimes my fingernails feel like they are 'sticking' to the skin underneath, and I have to pull the skin away or it gives me the heebie-jeebies.
- I am terrified of the dark. I've been able to control it since our baby was born, and I've had to stumble around in the dark with no choice in the matter. But often, when I'm coming back from the nursery, I do that silly "I'm-not-actually-scared" run/walk and then dive into bed. My understanding husband will cuddle with me and gently say, "Snakes?" And I nod, make sure every appendage is safely under the covers, and snuggle into him.
- I HATE cold dishwater or bathwater. Especially the dishwater that you've been soaking that disgusting casserole dish in. It gives my belly the woopie-wawpees. This is another thing that my stellar husband will rescue me from, no questions asked. He's the best :D
- I get really bugged when someone switches the song on the radio halfway through. If you hear the first couple notes of a song and don't like it, you need to change it NOW. If you're too stupid to recognize that it's a song you don't like, you deserve to be forced to listen to the whole thing.
- When I'm cutting sweet potatoes, I NEED to eat some of it. I've tried to resist, but my mouth waters like crazy and I feel all weird inside unless I take a nice big chomp of crunchy yam. mmmmm!!!
- I'm very picky about bananas. I love to eat them, as bananas. But I HATE them in fruit salad (what a way to ruin a good fruit salad! The poor grapes, apples, oranges and kiwis don't deserve such torture!), smoothies (the first time I got a Booster Juice, I accidentally ordered one that had a banana in it, and I almost cried. My husband can also attest to this. He even offered to switch smoothies with me, but his had a banana in it too. Tragic!), and cereal (ICK! Cheerioes and bananas? Gag me!). But, I love banana bread.
I also will.not.eat a banana that has any black on the skin. I believe this is hereditary, because my mom always comments on how my dad is a princess when it comes to bananas. If you ask my dad about this, he would probably say "I have no idea what you're talking about. I have no recollection of this!". But it's true. Because of this affliction, when there's a banana with black on it, I will strategically place it in the fruit bowl so that my husband eats it. [insert maniacal laughter here]
These are all the ones I can think of for now. This might be a recurring blog post theme as I think of more!
Comment with your quirks!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Towels with a Capital "T"
My Gramma had these Towels. Your grandmother probably has them too. These Towels are not your ordinary Towels. When Gramma looks at these towels, she hears beautiful harp melodies and angel voices singing. These are thee Towels.
My Gramma's Towels were white, with flowers along the bottom. She always had them nicely folded on the bar in the bathroom - all orderly, with the bath-sized ones on the bottom, then the hand-wiping ones, then the facecloths. They looked quite nice, if you were into white Towels with flowers.
There was an unwritten rule about these Towels. You must. not. touch. these Towels. Why, you ask? When I was younger, I didn't get it. They are just towels - with a lowercase "t". A couple times, I was tempted to dare to wipe my wet hands on them, but I chickened out at the last second, for fear of the Wrath Of The Touched Towel.
I have since realized, with terror, that the Towel is hereditary. It skips a generation and infiltrates into your psyche. I HAVE THE TOWELS! I got a set of hideous orange towels from my mom's friend. Ok, they're not hideous, but they definitely aren't my favourite coour. But, it's a SET of towels. A set, I tell you! Four of each! Matching! This is very exciting to me. The rest of my towels are a conglomeration of mixed up styles, sizes and eras. I love each of them individually - but to me, a set of towels is especially thrilling. They are all set up nicely on the bar, bath-sized ones on the bottom, then the hand-wiping ones, then the facecloths. They look quite nice, if you're into orange Towels.
My Gramma's Towels were white, with flowers along the bottom. She always had them nicely folded on the bar in the bathroom - all orderly, with the bath-sized ones on the bottom, then the hand-wiping ones, then the facecloths. They looked quite nice, if you were into white Towels with flowers.
There was an unwritten rule about these Towels. You must. not. touch. these Towels. Why, you ask? When I was younger, I didn't get it. They are just towels - with a lowercase "t". A couple times, I was tempted to dare to wipe my wet hands on them, but I chickened out at the last second, for fear of the Wrath Of The Touched Towel.
I have since realized, with terror, that the Towel is hereditary. It skips a generation and infiltrates into your psyche. I HAVE THE TOWELS! I got a set of hideous orange towels from my mom's friend. Ok, they're not hideous, but they definitely aren't my favourite coour. But, it's a SET of towels. A set, I tell you! Four of each! Matching! This is very exciting to me. The rest of my towels are a conglomeration of mixed up styles, sizes and eras. I love each of them individually - but to me, a set of towels is especially thrilling. They are all set up nicely on the bar, bath-sized ones on the bottom, then the hand-wiping ones, then the facecloths. They look quite nice, if you're into orange Towels.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Politeness Polka
You've done it before.
You're walking up the steps to go to the post office. You see someone inside, walking towards the door, so you move aside so they can come out of the door first. They do the same. So, you take a step towards the door in order to open it for them to come through. They do the same. You both gesture, through the door, that the other person should go first. You both laugh, and gesture again. It's a neverending dance in front of the door.
It's like the Polka - without the sweaty pits and accordion music.
You're walking up the steps to go to the post office. You see someone inside, walking towards the door, so you move aside so they can come out of the door first. They do the same. So, you take a step towards the door in order to open it for them to come through. They do the same. You both gesture, through the door, that the other person should go first. You both laugh, and gesture again. It's a neverending dance in front of the door.
It's like the Polka - without the sweaty pits and accordion music.
Monday, January 17, 2011
People Are Silly
My sister Ace wanted me to start up a blog. She thinks I'm funny. I think I'm probably over-opinionated, but she insisted that I start this blog. So, here it is.
At first, I had no idea what I would write about. Ace claimed everything I say is hilarious.
I love pipecleaners.
Are you laughing yet?
Anyway, I didn't have anything to write about. Until now!
I am a beginner violin player, and have started practicing with a church group. After I played in public for the first time, I received some very nice compliments. They were lovely, but I found something very odd about them.
Every person accompanied their compliment with a "I'm playing the violin" miming action.
Example: "I loved your *extends left arm, pretends to hold a violin, and then pretends to draw the bow across the strings*! It was so lovely!"
One man even hummed along with his action. "Oh, I didn't know you hmmm-haa-hmmmm-ed!*crazy violin playing* Good job!"
People are silly. And I love it!
At first, I had no idea what I would write about. Ace claimed everything I say is hilarious.
I love pipecleaners.
Are you laughing yet?
Anyway, I didn't have anything to write about. Until now!
I am a beginner violin player, and have started practicing with a church group. After I played in public for the first time, I received some very nice compliments. They were lovely, but I found something very odd about them.
Every person accompanied their compliment with a "I'm playing the violin" miming action.
Example: "I loved your *extends left arm, pretends to hold a violin, and then pretends to draw the bow across the strings*! It was so lovely!"
One man even hummed along with his action. "Oh, I didn't know you hmmm-haa-hmmmm-ed!*crazy violin playing* Good job!"
People are silly. And I love it!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)