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Category: Thoughtful Reflection

Germs

Published April 28, 2017 by Editor in Chief

I was at the laboratory in the doctor’s office today for some blood work. The room had posters about the importance of washing your hands and general cleanliness guidance all around it. People in the room are not supposed to eat, drink, use chap stick, or apply make-up, because all of these things facilitate germ transfer.

I had my water bottle with me, and I asked if I could put it on the table. “Can I put this right here?” I asked, hovering the bottle over a table.

The nurse looked at me, then at the table, and said, “I wouldn’t. That table is dirty.”

“Oh! Thank you for honesty!” I replied.

Then I fumbled with my water bottle clumsily, but the whole time I was thinking, “WHY IS A TABLE IN THIS ROOM DIRTY?”

 

 

 

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Chess Master

Published April 27, 2017 by Editor in Chief

I’ve recently taken up chess on my phone, because no one will play with me in real life. And to be clear: the reason people are avoiding playing with me is NOT that I’m very good. I’m terrible.

I’m so terrible it’s embarrassing for my loved ones to watch. And they refuse to help me improve by continuing to play with me, and now I have to play against a computer on Level 2 (the second lowest level) and experience defeat privately several times a day.

On the phone, you can set it so that a buzzer goes off before you are about to make a mistake, to help you improve. The sound goes “Egh.” So all David hears when I play is:

Game: Egh

Game: Egh

Game: Egh

Game: Egh

Me: (make strong executive decision and move a piece)

Me: Oops!

 

 

 

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I love New York

Published April 24, 2017 by Editor in Chief

I got off a subway stop in New York, and I decided to exit from the Southwest exit of my stop. I walked up the stairs, and between the middle and top of the stairs, there was a man that I judged, based on the way he was dressed, to be homeless. He looked at me,  tied the plastic bag he was holding, and pulled up his pants.

I paused a little, to give him time to move up the stairs and me an opportunity to turn around and go the other way if necessary. He went up the stairs, so I went up the stairs too, leaving 10 steps between us. When he got to the top of the stairs and exited the station, not even a full block later, I saw him casually throw that plastic bag over his head and into an open window of a second floor apartment.  Then he kept walking up the street.

There were trash bins on the corner of the subway station exit, but that is not where he decided to throw his bag of garbage.

I walked by that same window the next day, and it was closed. Perhaps those owners learned their lesson.

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At My Wit’s End (Not really)

Published April 21, 2017 by Editor in Chief

I just saw someone on Facebook describe their two year old as “witty.” I wanted to write, “Hello! Is your kid a prodigy who has mastered the nuances of the human condition, or are we just throwing that word around now?”

Instead, I just liked the post, because I’m not a monster. I’ll talk to that kid one day, and judge for myself.

 

 

 

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Hell Hath No Fury

Published April 19, 2017 by Editor in Chief

….like that of a woman who has been trying to get pregnant, but is not yet.

Is that the expression?

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Bought the wrong type of toilet paper

Published April 12, 2017 by Editor in Chief

I ordered the wrong type of toilet paper, and I only realized it as I was putting the package onto the shelf. I decided not to return it, because it was shipped to us. What am I supposed to do? Put it back in a cardboard box, take it to the shipping store, and send it back? When you’re returning something, you have to provide an explanation, and the explanation here would have been, “Your triple ply is not up to my husband’s standards for excellence.”

Anyway, David hasn’t noticed yet. This might be the first time our marriage has encountered a test of strength. Here are my two plans when he notices:

Plan A: “What? I didn’t buy that. You must have bought it.”

Plan B: Confess I bought it, and then claim that I have always preferred this toilet paper, and that for the past few years I have been pretending to like the same one he does, because I just want him to love me. But maybe it’s time to love me for me, and not for the person I’ve been trying to be for him.

Plan B is not a bullet proof plan, especially because I don’t really like this toilet paper I accidentally bought as well, so I will likely just dig in for Plan A.

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Das ist ein Brief

Published March 17, 2017 by Editor in Chief

Dear Rosetta Stone,

I want to write to my mother in German and talk to her about her favorite topic: Me.

I want to bring her immeasurable happiness by telling her what I ate, tell her I am walking, and I want to tell her I am not swimming. I will also tell her I am not riding a bicycle. If I read a newspaper, I would like to tell her that too.

Unfortunately, I’m not able to share anything about myself yet, because the pronoun “I” is not covered in the first two hours of Core Lesson 1.

I know:
The girl: Das Madchen
The boy: Der Junge
The woman: Die Frau
The man: Der Mann
They: Sie

But I do not know, “I,” nor how to conjugate it, arguably the most important of all. My mother will find it very curious if I recap my day by only describing what other people do.

Let me be clear: if I only present information about other people to her, in broken German, she will suspect I am hiding something. And when my mother thinks I’m hiding something, she frets. And then with the persistence of a strongly motivated FBI agent, who is willing to cut corners for answers to questions the brass is too scared to ask, she will get to the bottom of what I may be hiding. She will brutally interrogate my siblings, exhaust my husband’s patience, and write desperate, threatening emails. And I will have to explain, IN ENGLISH – SO FORGET ABOUT PRACTICING ANY NEWLY LEARNED GERMAN, that I could not write about myself, because you did not include the pronoun “I” in the first two hours of the course. Who knows if she will believe this truth.

Please consider incorporating “I” and relevant conjugations earlier into the curriculum.

Kind regards,

A Person Who Bought Your Software Years Ago and Only Started Using it Recently

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The Problem with the Digital Revolution

Published March 17, 2017 by Editor in Chief

I’m sitting here, on an airplane, enraged.*

Apparently my music is inaccessible without internet, which is infuriating. While we (the public) were distracted with elections and wars, digital music providers have been quietly making us dependent on online streaming services. I am livid. When the masses learn about this, there will surely be outrage on an unprecedented scale.

Let me explain how this came to pass.
I have a phone with TWO music applications: ITunes and Amazon Music. I have purchased music through both of these programs, because I spend money on such luxuries. And I have played the songs I have purchased on my mobile device. Because that is what you do: you buy music and then listen to it. However, unbeknownst to me at the time, I was “streaming” the songs I had purchased. They were in my “library” but they were not actually on my device.

So now, I’m stuck listening on repeat to the only songs that I have downloaded to my device, which are: 4 songs from Glee, one Alicia Keys song, and one Pitbull song. These are all songs that happen to be stored on my phone because I use them as WAKEUP ALARMS. This means I already HATE the only songs that I have access to without the internet.

This lack of music is truly a creative shackle. How am I to work on my craft (fanciful writing) without sweet melodies inspiring me in the background?

*Editor’s note: I wrote this on the plane, and then waited until I landed, with strong internet access, to post it.

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