Mild Amusement

Remember how I said that every now and again, the people around me like to give questionable dating advice ? Some of these folks are at it again. This time, however, they have decided to switch up their tactics. Rather than simply giving me advice, they've stepped their collective games up. Allow me to explain. For example, my sister-in-law has decided that she was being too passive in the whole process, so she is now on wife watch for me. I kid you not, those are the words she used: "wife watch." What exactly is wife watch, you ask? Well, she will scope out women on my behalf, and then point them out when we are out in public. It's not even a shared activity; she just does it on my behalf. We were out one night having dinner, when she started checking out the women at the table behind me. I had my back to these people, and I was busy actually having dinner, so figuring out if any of the women were attractive was quite probably the last thing on my mind. My sister...

I've mentioned before that I like to play loose with language . It's not like I'm lying to people or even deceiving them; it's just a way of livening up the stories being told. Plus, it allows me to be more of a smart aleck, so I'm all for it. Really, it's just a way to add some laughs to the world. That's all good and dandy, but recently, I've found myself in the position of making other people's stories more interesting. This takes a little more effort, but the pay off is no less fun. Take my sister-in-law. I was talking to her recently, and I asked how her weekend had gone. She told me, "oh, didn't do anything, my life's boring." I knew from my brother that she'd spent the better part of a day shopping with her mom, so I decided that this just wouldn't do. In fact, I told her that from now on, the story of her weekend would be, "shopped till I dropped with my mom. Good thing [my brother] wasn't around to see t...

I learned a whole heck of a lot about a shower vent fan  (those things that suck the moisture out of the air after you take a shower) recently. The one we had was starting to show its age, so my brother wanted to replace it. Now, I will readily admit that I didn't even do the bulk of the work, but let's just say that even from my assistant role, some of these lessons erred on the comedic side. First things first, I learned that the basic design for one of those is roughly like that of an exhaust pipe. The fan sucks in air and moisture, and that fan is connected to a duct (a flexible tube) that then pumps the moisture somewhere outside of your house. It's a pretty simple concept. We were only concerned with the fan, because, well, why play around with ducts and sealant and all that if you don't have to? The second thing I learned, however, was that the previous owners of the house were either incredibly lazy or had one wicked sense of humor. They conveniently left o...

Writing this blog is always an interesting act of duality. I hate the thought of attention whoring , but I still find it incredibly amusing to share anecdotes about this life of mine. So, I write in a way to avoid names , but I still have no qualms about making my life something of an open book (er, tri-fold ). I happily continue to churn out posts, but it's not like I'll plaster "look everybody, new post!" all over social media to promote myself. So, really, I end up compartmentalizing things. Writing about stuff exists in one bucket, and actual social interaction with people exists in a separate bucket. Every now and then, though, the two buckets mix. Usually this involves friends of mine, but the results are always interesting. The first time this happened, I was hanging out with some friends, and their friends. I happened to write about it a little while later, so the people I knew were amused to read about it. In fact, they were amused enough to pass along a l...

Sometime in college, my brother and I decided to get earrings. I don't even really remember why I agreed to the idea, but I do remember thinking, "at worst, I'll just let the hole close up." I didn't hate it, so I still wear one to this day. Funnily enough, my brother has since given his up, even though the whole thing was originally his idea. Still, that one little item has caused more than a few funny stories. First off, I now know a little bit of the pain women feel when they lose one. I managed to lose the original one when I was at the gym a while back, and I remember it bugging me. You know how paper cuts tend to sting? They're not excruciatingly painful, but those teeny little cuts are constantly reminding you that you cut yourself. It was like that. I think my OCD was more to blame than anything else, but it kept bugging me (stupid faulty clasp). I've since learned to take the darn thing off before exercising, but not before this little episode l...

In case you haven't noticed yet, I have a bit of a smart aleck streak. It's never meant with malice, but I tend to be very whimsical and I've never had a problem with poking fun at people. My friends are no exception to this rule, so they're very used to my jokes. Given that, it's no surprise to them if I give them a gag gift for their birthdays. Mind you, it's always paired with an actual, hopefully thoughtful, gift, but they understand. If all goes well, they will laugh, too. The latest entry in the annals of gag gifts, however, had some very amusing side effects. Before we get to the gift, though, let me describe my friend just a tad. She is very much a grounded, down-to-earth person, but she still appreciates some of the finer things in life. She's the kind of person who likes wine, has a nice collection of shoes, and appreciates elegance. We've all got our preferences, and hers just tend to run in that direction. So be it. Of course, that do...

I recently realized that I use some variation of "my friend" quite a bit when writing. I don't refer to people by name, even when the whole point of the post is to describe that particular person. Sure, I refer to my brother and sister plenty of times, but unless you've actually met them, you don't know their names. Most of the time, the names themselves don't really matter, anyway. The humor of the stories is always in the situation or in the words that were said. I'm not going to lie, there are times when including the name would add some juicy bit of gossip to the mix. If a particular story involves a woman I'm romantically interested in or a person I don't particularly care for, it suddenly takes on a little  je ne sais quois . I'll bet it would add an extra bit of humor here and there, but it's not worth it. I'm not trying to feed the rumor mill, and I'm giving you permission to hit me upside the head if I start that. Besid...