I can’t be funny on purpose

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I’m pretty sure it’s common knowledge to you people that I can’t tell a joke.  I’m terrible at it.  I laugh through them, get the details wrong, and I almost always screw up the punch line.  Every once in a while, I start with the punch line.  I have to practice before I can do it, and by the time I’m ready, the moment’s gone.  So I generally don’t tell jokes.  I need to expand that personal rule to include relating funny incidents.  I was SURE the lines that had me laughing ’til I cried over lunch yesterday were objectively funny, and that John would appreciate that when I told him the story.  And you know?  If ANYone else had told him the story, he probably would have laughed, too.  But I SUCK at it.  It was something to do with a guy from eastern Europe or Russia or somewhere who bench-pressed cows instead of lifting weights and how he refused to go to a regular gym here, and then a coworker of mine took that idea to its logical conclusion of imagining what that guy would say when offered a gym membership that didn’t include livestock and I SWEAR it was hilarious, but honestly, what I just wrote is pretty much the best I can do.  You’re not laughing, are you?

Update: John objected.  He says he promised me he would laugh when I told him the story.  He did.  But it was a fake laugh.  A pity laugh.  Doesn’t count.

A small funny

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I was in the middle of training a new employee when John sent me something funny.  I should have waited to look, but I didn’t.  Then I had to explain the giggling.  Or not explain it, since I didn’t share.  I apologized instead.

Cumberbatch

I’m sure this came from Reddit, but I don’t have the link.  I hope Mr. and Mrs. Cuddlebun will be very happy.

It’s not a habit yet

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I’m skipping yoga tonight.  I don’t remember how many times you’re supposed to do something before it becomes a habit, but I’m pretty sure going one week, skipping three weeks, going one week, and then skipping the next week is NOT the way to do it.  But I’m tired (today was a long day), and I have a headache, and I want to go to bed early, and wow, can you hear the whining?  Anyway, I’m comfortable here on the couch, and that’s where I’m staying.

Now, pardon me while I have tea and a croissant for dinner.

Wiped out

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Today was a long day.  It wasn’t long in actual, objective time (it was normal), but it felt like it was going on forever.  It was nonstop, no  breaks, and the whole week is going to be like that.  It’s only Monday.  I’m home now, and I’m going to put on soft pants, sit on the couch, eat my dinner, and watch TV.  And go to bed early.  Grump grump grump.

Blogger is revealed as sentimental sap

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I spent nearly an entire day recently watching season 5 of Glee.  Please don’t mock me.  I haven’t watched it in years, and I can’t say I really enjoyed the day I spent watching it.  I did a lot of yelling at the TV (that was the fun part), but other than that, I really don’t know why I started it up again.  Season 5 is the season that started after Cory Monteith (the actor who played Finn Hudson) died, and episode three is the one where they addressed his death.

I cried, bawled like a baby, for nearly that entire episode.  I can’t tell if the writers and actors actually handled it well (the actors who played his parents did, I think) or if I just felt like crying (I can’t be objective about it at all), but I was a mess.  I think part of it, maybe a lot of it, is that the actor, not just the character died, and all those other actors were probably actually mourning him, making it more genuine.

On the bright side, the long day of watching Glee seems to have rid me of the desire to watch any more of it.  I’ve got that going for me.

 

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We’ve got spirit, yes we do

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We have decided to do some light decorating this year.  Today was the beginning, when we picked up a wreath for the front door.

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So festive.  🙂  I’ll pick up a couple more things over the next few days (maybe a garland for the fireplace, some tchotchkes for the table or island).  I don’t want lights or anything over the top, but since we’re still on the market, we thought the house might look more welcoming if we embraced the spirit of the season.  Plus it’s pretty.

My taste in music is beyond reproach, of course

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Obviously, everyone’s musical preferences are a matter of personal taste. There’s no right or wrong. (Yes, there is.) No objective right or wrong. (Yes, there is.) There are classics (the Beatles, Elvis, etc.) that it seems like everyone should like, but I’m sure there are people out there who don’t like them. (They’re wrong.)

Then there are the influential groups or people (who often (always?) overlap with the classics). Is it as imperative that everyone like them? I hope not. I’m thinking of the Doors in particular. I heard two songs of theirs this morning, and they’ve been stuck in my head most of the day. I’m not enjoying it. I mostly don’t like the Doors. Jim Morrison seemed like a pompous, self-important jackass. The only Doors song I really like is “Touch Me” (I like horn sections), and I’m okay with “People are Strange”. I could do without all of the others all of the others that I recognize as the Doors. I suppose it’s possible that there’s another Doors song out there that I’ll like, but I haven’t heard it yet. Or I’ve heard it, liked it, and didn’t know it was the Doors. Find me a handful of those, and I’ll consider revising my opinion of the band as a whole.

Quiet yoga time turned surreal

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I made it back to yoga this week, and we had a few minutes of relaxation time at the end. There was no music playing in the room, no talking, just stillness and breathing.  My mind really went quiet for a little bit, but then the rest of the world began to creep back in.  First, I noticed the ticking clock in the room.  I hadn’t even realized that clock made noise. Then, very quietly at first but louder the more I noticed it, I heard Kylie Minogue’s “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” seeping in from the speakers on the main floor of the gym.  But the song and the ticking clock weren’t in sync with each other, nowhere near the same tempo, so they fought, both getting louder.  I was having visions of meshed realities and Doctor Who. All in the space of about a minute. Maybe less.  Then the instructor called us back to reality, and it got less weird.

More better words please

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A friend and I were talking about orphan rows today (as they relate to databases) and rows with dangling pointers, which are kind of the opposite, like parents who have lost their children, and we realized that there’s no word for parents who have lost their children.  What’s the orphan equivalent?  A wife whose husband has died is a widow, and a husband whose wife has died is a widower….and that’s when we realized that widower doesn’t make sense.  The husband didn’t widow anyone.  He is not one who widows.  So in addition to needing a word that means parent-who-has-children-who-have-died, we need a better word for a husband whose wife has died.  Someone should get on that.  Also, this is sad, so go watch the new Star Wars trailer.  And look for the Lucas enhanced version, too.  It’s funny.  You’ll feel better.

My couch is a nice place to be

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Online shopping is the best.  It’s the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and John and I are nearly done with our Christmas shopping (it’s low-key this year, anyway).  We have yet to see the inside of a mall.  I’m sure we’ll go, but by then it’ll be more to enjoy the decorations and the music.  I like the mall during the holidays as long as I’m not one of the desperate shoppers.  Also, I’m on the couch, laptop on lap, wearing my pjs.  It’s 2pm.  🙂  This is okay with me.

Earning it

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An early Thanksgiving report:

I’m trying to earn my Thanksgiving dinner.  Molly and I ran our own private 5K this morning.  I inadvertantly made it harder by suggesting we take that turn over there.  Yeah, so we went downhill.  A lot.  Steeply.  The only way back was to climb up.  So our thighs were burning, but maybe that means less stuffing will stick to them.  Then I helped Sean shovel a neighbor’s driveway (they’re out of town), so that counts as a good deed AND more calories burned (big driveway and wet snow).  I feel virtuous.  OH, and then I ran to the store for my mother-in-law to get bread and ice.  I would like to win Daughter-In-Law Of The Year again.

Bring on the turkey and stuffing and green bean casserole and sweet potatoes, please.  I’m ready.

Confrontation

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I’m so not getting into the details, but let’s just say that I pointed out to a new-ish employee something that he didn’t do quite right the night before (nicely – I’m ALWAYS nice), I heard a tone in his response that was shrug-it-off/I-don’t-care/I-hear-you-but-I’m-not-going-to-do-that, I was a little sharp in my reply, and he didn’t like it. So off we went to a meeting where he told me he didn’t like being treated that way.

Seriously?

We discussed it, and it’s resolved, and we’re back to behaving normally, but what a way to ruin my day by 9am.  And to make me be extra-special careful around this one person and second-guess every interaction.  Ugh.

We don’t sound desperate, right?

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The perfect couple came and looked at our house yesterday.  Please buy our house!  As soon as they walked in the door, the husband complimented my sweatshirt (I really like to dress up for showings).

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Then he noticed the games on our shelves and they both geeked out a little over Betrayal at House on the Hill (and thank you very much to Jess for introducing us to that one).  His wife hates being the traitor.

betrayal

If you don’t buy our house, please move in nearby.  We could be friends!

The stuff of nightmares

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We had a substitute instructor fill in for Julia (who I’ve decided I like, although not as much as Lisa) at zumba Wednesday night.  I liked her a lot (Jessica) despite her choice to wear purple from head to toe.  I mean that literally: hat, tank top, sports bra, pants, and shoes were all the same shade of purple.  Maybe I liked her partly because of that.  She was fun and energetic, so I’m sure that played a part, too.  But it was a little like dancing with a teletubby.  The purple one was Tinky-Winky, right?

TinkyWinky

 

Pro Tip: Don’t google pictures of Tinky Winky.  There are some super scary/disturbing pictures of teletubbies out there.  I didn’t need to see that.  Of course, they were a little disturbing from the get-go.  They have dead eyes.

Going a little batty

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I need to get my eyes checked.  Or maybe I just need a vacation from work.  Or maybe both.  I was logged in to a database at work, looking for which columns in which tables hold the data I need, and I saw a column called BATCHID.  No exaggeration – it took me a full 30 seconds to identify that column as “Batch ID”, not “bat child”.  I was sitting at my desk, almost scratching my head in confusion over why on EARTH we had a column to store data about bat children.  Was it a joke?  Did “BAT” stand for something and this is child data of some sort?  I’ve worked here for nearly five years – how could I have never heard of it?  Eventually, the light bulb came on, and now I feel stupid, but man – I was really puzzled for a bit there.

The rules don’t apply to him

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It was SO COLD Tuesday morning when John and I got up to go to boxing.  I think the temperature was in the teens.  God awful cold.  But we bundled up (sweatshirts over normal workout clothes and I was wearing ear muffs (not the fuzzy kind – my ears get cold, so I have some that don’t get totally gross when sweat is involved)) and headed out.  We were a couple of minutes early, so we sat in the warm car before attempting the short walk from the car to the gym.  We should have stayed in the car.  Instead of walking into a reasonably warm gym, we walked into more freezing temperatures.  Doug said he had the heat cranked up to 80, but no warm air was coming out, and the thermostat was stuck in the low 40s.  We did our warm-up fully bundled up and didn’t lose the sweatshirts until 20 minutes in.

This morning, not as cold as Tuesday, but still plenty cold (right around freezing), there was a sign on the door: “No classes today. The heat is broken.”  But the door was open and the lights were on, so we went in and found Doug on the weight machines in the freezing cold gym.  So again, we stayed bundled up and warmed up with him and had class anyway.  We mentioned the sign at the end, and it turns out Doug never noticed it.  It wouldn’t have mattered, not to him.  He says he’s going to be there to work out those mornings, every week, and we’re welcome to come work out with him, class or no class.  It’s like we’re his playmates.  I am totally okay with that.

Slacking off and feeling bad about it

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I didn’t go to yoga last night.  I went two Tuesdays ago for the first time in a year and a half, and it was great.  I’m ready to get back into it.  Really.  Except that last Tuesday was the first day I tried Doug’s boxing class, and I was all-over achy (especially in my shoulders).  Yoga has lots of shoulder work, and I hurt.  I ran that morning, too, and three workouts in one day seemed excessive.  Excuses?  Sure.  But I didn’t go.  I was going to go last night, but then I didn’t, and now I feel like I let down the instructor, my yogamates, and I don’t know who else (maybe all the people in the world who would go to yoga if they could).  You know, because the world revolves around me and everyone is paying that much attention to what I do.  If the class were bigger, I probably wouldn’t feel this way, but attendance has been dwindling.  When I went two weeks ago, I was only one of two students.  So I made a commitment to go, to myself, to the instructor, to my yogamate, and then I didn’t show.  Bad Zannah!