and I’m starting to feel a bit left out. Is it my hair? Am I not winking enough? Maybe stalkers are like energy and there’s only a limited amount, and the celebrities and hottie-next-doors are taking up more than their fair share in the equilibrium.
One of my best friends in high school had a guy constantly calling/texting her and eventually sitting in a parked jeep with its lights off outside her house at night. Another guy followed her to New Zealand. She had no romantic history with either.
In college, my friend met a student online on one of those “incoming freshman” forums. He was initially nice, but started insisting on meeting her. He started sending her FB messages like “I saw you in the cafeteria today. You were wearing a green dress.” She got creeped out and told him to leave her alone, which he eventually did. Unfortunately, he worked at our student bookstore and she refused to go in with me during most of our college years.
A different college friend met a 40+ limo driver who kept talking about giving her massages with oils. He also lured her to his house with the promise of a gift. I believe it was a push pen.
To be fair and balanced, I’ve heard my fair share of girls stalking men stories. But for some reason, even if it’s the exact same situation, these girls are more pitiable than creepy. One of those gender discrepancies that I condone.
Yesterday I was talking to a Swedish man about President’s Day. He asked how we celebrate it, and I told him that we usually dress up as our favorite president. And mangos. Everybody eats mangos on President’s Day.
Really, what’s the point of a holiday that doesn’t involve some sort of costume/food tradition?
I also got the enviable task of explaining to said Swedish man the difference between nerds, dorks and geeks.
Yesterday my brother informed me that the Urban Dictionary entry he had made a month ago would be finalized any day. It took me a moment to remember what he was talking about. Ah yes, our January conversation. I was complaining about his absurd “Scronking Bones” nickname for me. It went something like this:
“That’s so stupid. It doesn’t even mean anything.”
“Yeah it does. It means you’re really skinny. And a bird.”
“Whatever. It does not. It’s not even on Urban Dictionary. It definitely doesn’t exist.”
“Well maybe I’ll add it.”
“You better not.”
“I’m going to.”
“Fine whatever. That’ll be kind of funny. As long as you don’t tag my name.”
The conversation moved on and was, as I thought, forgotten.
Here you go, ladies and gentlemen. The entry. That’s right, you’re reading the blog of a famous person. Care to stalk me?
A couple of Iranian warships have entered the Suez Canal, and Israel isn’t happy.
“Israel considers Iran a threat because of its controversial nuclear programme, development of ballistic missiles, support for Lebanese and Palestinian militant groups, and promises to destroy Israel.”
For me, watching the Middle Eastern demonstrations is like watching craziness unfold in all the small towns you grew up in and their neighbors. I spent my childhood/young adult years in countries including the UAE, Tunisia, Yemen and Egypt. I went to elementary school with Ali Abdullah Saleh’s kids – I went to his son’s birthday party. Nice place.
So it’s strange watching the news. These cultures that I was in, but never of.
On a silly note, Gaddafi has been in the limelight lately. I thought I’d add my two cents to that with this image that my brother sent me last year. Click it to read his dialogue bubble.
“The house ad was in a special section we had done advertising nearby housing options around campus. It was a big push to make some ad revenue since we’ve been stretched kind of thin.
Joshua Foer did an article for the New York Times about deciding to train for the USA Memory Competition. It’s fabulous.
“What distinguishes a great mnemonist, I learned, is the ability to create lavish images on the fly, to paint in the mind a scene so unlike any other it cannot be forgotten. And to do it quickly. Many competitive mnemonists argue that their skills are less a feat of memory than of creativity. For example, one of the most popular techniques used to memorize playing cards involves associating every card with an image of a celebrity performing some sort of a ludicrous — and therefore memorable — action on a mundane object. When it comes time to remember the order of a series of cards, those memorized images are shuffled and recombined to form new and unforgettable scenes in the mind’s eye. Using this technique, Ed Cooke showed me how an entire deck can be quickly transformed into a comically surreal, and unforgettable, memory palace.”
“Before I could embark on any serious degree of memory training, I first needed a stockpile of palaces at my disposal. I revisited the homes of old friends and took walks through famous museums, and I built entirely new, fantastical structures in my imagination. And then I carved each building up into cubbyholes for my memories.”
I don’t think I hate small talk. Oh sure, when it’s really shallow and dumb it can be annoying – but even then it’s more of a necessary evil. It’s a precursor, a testing of the grounds for an actual conversation.
People Hate Small Talk Because:
1) it puts them on the spot for conversational topics, etc.
2) it’s often in a new situation with new people. the newness makes them self-consious
3) it’s fake. it’s drivel.
4) they’re introverts and shouldn’t be let out of the house anyways
1) read my blog and use it as inspiration for fascinating topics
2) judge the people around you. self-consciousness is like energy: there is a fixed amount. by judging others, you’re making them feel self conscious, in turn transferring your own self-consciousness to them
3) start reading People and watching E! in your free time. eventually you will start to care about trivial and shallow things.
4) that was a joke. really. I, myself, have been described as a “freakish extroverted introvert,” which is kind of like being an introvert. except better.