So there we were eating oranges and fortune cookies after our Chinese dinner in Montreal. Then it hit me:
THERE NEEDS TO BE A FORTUNE COOKIE CEREAL.
That is all.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Quaker Crispy Mini's Bag
I recently bought a FM transmitter which allows music to be played using a radio specifically for this trip to Montreal. The Zune had to be held while driving because the reception on these transmitters are horrible. Not anymore:

That bag did wonders. Reception was excellent except when we had to change the station...

That bag did wonders. Reception was excellent except when we had to change the station...
Cheers!
The Fry
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Funeral pictures
What's the consensus on taking pictures at a funeral? A family friend of ours borrowed the digital camera to take to her father in-law's funeral. Personally I think it's kind of weird. I wouldn't get them developed or even open the folder containing them...
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Comfort Bubble
What is my guilty pleasure? You mean besides peeing in the shower?
Completely invading the comfort zone of others.
Of course, it's usually done when the opportunity to bring humor to myself or others around me surfaces. I don't do this on a regular basis, I like to keep it a novelty.
Talking:
I've noticed that most people project their voice using almost the minimum amount of energy; just enough to reach their target listener. What happens if I overpower their conversations' rhythm with something completely out of the blue? What happens if my sister follows up with something? Why, we get the whole restaurant looking at us of course.
Last Saturday I had dinner with my family at Sushi Factory.
My mother at times can be very soft spoken (I think working in an office will do that to you) so I usually catch myself saying: "What? Huh? One more time?" Maybe I'm deaf, maybe I'm inattentive, maybe it's all of these.
So there we were all four of us sitting at this wobbly square table, and my mom said something. I couldn't hear so I told her we need to talk louder.
"WE SHOULD TALK THIS LOUD MOM. SO THAT WAY WE CAN ALL UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER CLEARLY."
Jenny looks around, smiles, follows up with "YEAH SO HOW ARE YOU MOM? WE ARE TALKING LOUUUUD."
My Mom slightly hunches over shifting her eyes back and forth telling us to SHH. I look around and everyone at the bar has been completely thrown off by this. So now we have a sushi bar full of people, 5 booths, and 4 other tables around us looking our direction. Meanwhile my Dad is just sitting there shaking his head looking at her. This is a sample of life in our house, slowly driving each other over the edge...
Driving:
When I see people slowly drifting into my lane I don't try to avoid them. Ask Erika, my sister, or anyone else that regularly sits shotgun with me behind the wheel. Well...you can't because there is no one else besides those two.
Anyway, what I do is speed up and get adjacently closer to them. I've closed in so near that I can knock on peoples doors and windows. I guess people aren't used to this distance. Sure it can be dangerous, but seeing them drift into my lane is an open invitation for communication. The responses I've gotten are phenomenal! I've had stuff mouthed to me, horns honked, fingers shown, scared/confused faces, wtffaces, etc.
Standing:
Strangers don't like it when you stand near them. Especially people shorter than me.
I was at the airport in North Carolina on a stopover last month where I found a Quizno's. In front of me was this white girl incessantly talking on her fucking phone about some stupid shit regarding prom shoes. The black female cashier looked at her with a =/ face and made that kissing sound with her lips. Cashier looks at me, I look back and shake my head, she yells "NEXT CUSTOMER PLEASE."
You'd like to think that a black woman yelling that would be enough for you to halt your conversation, put your phone down, order your damn sandwich, then pay. No. Stupid girl didn't even look at the menu yet. I had to fucking stand perpendicular to her on the left side literally one inch away and firmly say "HI TELL YOUR FRIEND I'M HUNGRY I WANT A SANDWICH."
She gave me this strange startled look like I was the one being retarded. Meanwhile, 5 other people behind me were shaking their heads.
She sloooowly strolls to the cashier, puts her index finger on her chin, places her order, fumbles with her wallet, gives the cashier A GAP GIFT CARD to pay with, fumbles again with her wallet, and eventually pays with a credit card: all while talking on the phone. Meanwhile I'm right next to her staring because I followed her and I believe by adding that type of pressure will make her hurry the fuck up.
Invading the comfort bubble, the pressure it exerts is magic.
Helping:
Some people also like to self vocalize. Especially when counting. I like helping people vocalize by saying random numbers and symbols while people count.
"Seventy one, seventy two, seventy three--'seventy four'--seventy four (counting slowing down) --'batman symbol'-- seventy fiiiiive....--'tweventy stix'--twenty seven WHAT THE FUCK"
That was no typo. What helped was me physically closing in on the person and counting; that way they are also worrying about me in their space along with counting.
I think I'm starting to develop some type of total disregard for social acceptance. It's not that I did ask for acceptance before, I would just take steps to avoid making a scene or experiencing confrontation. I just don't care anymore. And by not caring, I've gotten: my sandwiches faster, refunds, free stickers, free food size upgrades, and LAUGHS. Which leads me to think, "Hmm...what else can I get?"
Your comfort bubble....can I have some?
Completely invading the comfort zone of others.
Of course, it's usually done when the opportunity to bring humor to myself or others around me surfaces. I don't do this on a regular basis, I like to keep it a novelty.
Talking:
I've noticed that most people project their voice using almost the minimum amount of energy; just enough to reach their target listener. What happens if I overpower their conversations' rhythm with something completely out of the blue? What happens if my sister follows up with something? Why, we get the whole restaurant looking at us of course.
Last Saturday I had dinner with my family at Sushi Factory.
My mother at times can be very soft spoken (I think working in an office will do that to you) so I usually catch myself saying: "What? Huh? One more time?" Maybe I'm deaf, maybe I'm inattentive, maybe it's all of these.
So there we were all four of us sitting at this wobbly square table, and my mom said something. I couldn't hear so I told her we need to talk louder.
"WE SHOULD TALK THIS LOUD MOM. SO THAT WAY WE CAN ALL UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER CLEARLY."
Jenny looks around, smiles, follows up with "YEAH SO HOW ARE YOU MOM? WE ARE TALKING LOUUUUD."
My Mom slightly hunches over shifting her eyes back and forth telling us to SHH. I look around and everyone at the bar has been completely thrown off by this. So now we have a sushi bar full of people, 5 booths, and 4 other tables around us looking our direction. Meanwhile my Dad is just sitting there shaking his head looking at her. This is a sample of life in our house, slowly driving each other over the edge...
Driving:
When I see people slowly drifting into my lane I don't try to avoid them. Ask Erika, my sister, or anyone else that regularly sits shotgun with me behind the wheel. Well...you can't because there is no one else besides those two.
Anyway, what I do is speed up and get adjacently closer to them. I've closed in so near that I can knock on peoples doors and windows. I guess people aren't used to this distance. Sure it can be dangerous, but seeing them drift into my lane is an open invitation for communication. The responses I've gotten are phenomenal! I've had stuff mouthed to me, horns honked, fingers shown, scared/confused faces, wtffaces, etc.
Standing:
Strangers don't like it when you stand near them. Especially people shorter than me.
I was at the airport in North Carolina on a stopover last month where I found a Quizno's. In front of me was this white girl incessantly talking on her fucking phone about some stupid shit regarding prom shoes. The black female cashier looked at her with a =/ face and made that kissing sound with her lips. Cashier looks at me, I look back and shake my head, she yells "NEXT CUSTOMER PLEASE."
You'd like to think that a black woman yelling that would be enough for you to halt your conversation, put your phone down, order your damn sandwich, then pay. No. Stupid girl didn't even look at the menu yet. I had to fucking stand perpendicular to her on the left side literally one inch away and firmly say "HI TELL YOUR FRIEND I'M HUNGRY I WANT A SANDWICH."
She gave me this strange startled look like I was the one being retarded. Meanwhile, 5 other people behind me were shaking their heads.
She sloooowly strolls to the cashier, puts her index finger on her chin, places her order, fumbles with her wallet, gives the cashier A GAP GIFT CARD to pay with, fumbles again with her wallet, and eventually pays with a credit card: all while talking on the phone. Meanwhile I'm right next to her staring because I followed her and I believe by adding that type of pressure will make her hurry the fuck up.
Invading the comfort bubble, the pressure it exerts is magic.
Helping:
Some people also like to self vocalize. Especially when counting. I like helping people vocalize by saying random numbers and symbols while people count.
"Seventy one, seventy two, seventy three--'seventy four'--seventy four (counting slowing down) --'batman symbol'-- seventy fiiiiive....--'tweventy stix'--twenty seven WHAT THE FUCK"
That was no typo. What helped was me physically closing in on the person and counting; that way they are also worrying about me in their space along with counting.
I think I'm starting to develop some type of total disregard for social acceptance. It's not that I did ask for acceptance before, I would just take steps to avoid making a scene or experiencing confrontation. I just don't care anymore. And by not caring, I've gotten: my sandwiches faster, refunds, free stickers, free food size upgrades, and LAUGHS. Which leads me to think, "Hmm...what else can I get?"
Your comfort bubble....can I have some?
Monday, January 7, 2008
The Red Carpet
During my trek to the east coast this weekend I had quite an encounter involving a red carpet.
United Airlines provides a service called the United Red Carpet Club which accommodates its members with a lounge full of various amenities ranging from free coffee, big comfy chairs, and wifi access.
I am not a member.
Ted, as in UniTED (UA's new marketing scheme following the lines of WaMu), even goes as far to provide members with their very own line to board the plane. Here let me show you (click on it for a bigger size):

The boarding call went like this:
1. "We would first like to board our Red Carpet Members. Calling all red carpet members we are now boarding"
2. "We are now boarding those passengers who require extra time and assistance." This means people in wheelchairs and people with small children.
3. Standard boarding procedure. First class, then group 3, group 2, and finally group 1. The rear of the plane boards first when it comes to economy class.
I was in the group 2 economy so I knew it would take a while before I would be able to board. My reason for standing for where I was: that also was the area where I was sitting and waiting for an hour.
There I was standing with my ticket in hand, looking at this red carpet line; anticipating at least one passenger to go through. The staff even goes as far as removing the belt in front of you while you walk through it. But alas, no one came during the full seven minutes of the Red Carpet boarding call.
During the call almost every passenger was standing around looking at this lady talking on the PA. People shaking their heads, the look of dissatisfaction expressed in 40 different forms. Around minute 6 the employee on the PA lowered her mic, looked directly at me, and mouthed something.
I had my Zune on and was watching some music video.
"SIR...EXCUSE ME--SIR. PLEASE-STEP-OFF-THE-RED-CARPET." I didn't hear a word of this. What I did was slowly decipher her lip movement with a puzzled look on my face and music blasting through my earbuds. I knew what she was saying, but I did this anyway.
I ripped off my earphones and tilted my head signaling the "Repeat that?" gesture.
"You're stepping on the Red Carpet PLEASE GET OFF."
And I did. I stepped back, looked down, and gave her an "Oh shit" smile. My foot, excuse me, my TOE was touching the red carpet. I had been so relaxed, so tranced that my leg extended under the belt and the front of my foot had settled onto a piece of this carpet.
Looking around me everyone had the same expression. I wasn't embarrassed. The energy in the air was just "wow" with the thought of "unbelievable..."
Imagine the looks that future Red Carpet members will get walking through this line from even one of the 40 passengers who saw this go down.
The Red Carpet...don't fuck with it.
United Airlines provides a service called the United Red Carpet Club which accommodates its members with a lounge full of various amenities ranging from free coffee, big comfy chairs, and wifi access.
I am not a member.
Ted, as in UniTED (UA's new marketing scheme following the lines of WaMu), even goes as far to provide members with their very own line to board the plane. Here let me show you (click on it for a bigger size):
The boarding call went like this:
1. "We would first like to board our Red Carpet Members. Calling all red carpet members we are now boarding"
2. "We are now boarding those passengers who require extra time and assistance." This means people in wheelchairs and people with small children.
3. Standard boarding procedure. First class, then group 3, group 2, and finally group 1. The rear of the plane boards first when it comes to economy class.
I was in the group 2 economy so I knew it would take a while before I would be able to board. My reason for standing for where I was: that also was the area where I was sitting and waiting for an hour.
There I was standing with my ticket in hand, looking at this red carpet line; anticipating at least one passenger to go through. The staff even goes as far as removing the belt in front of you while you walk through it. But alas, no one came during the full seven minutes of the Red Carpet boarding call.
During the call almost every passenger was standing around looking at this lady talking on the PA. People shaking their heads, the look of dissatisfaction expressed in 40 different forms. Around minute 6 the employee on the PA lowered her mic, looked directly at me, and mouthed something.
I had my Zune on and was watching some music video.
"SIR...EXCUSE ME--SIR. PLEASE-STEP-OFF-THE-RED-CARPET." I didn't hear a word of this. What I did was slowly decipher her lip movement with a puzzled look on my face and music blasting through my earbuds. I knew what she was saying, but I did this anyway.
I ripped off my earphones and tilted my head signaling the "Repeat that?" gesture.
"You're stepping on the Red Carpet PLEASE GET OFF."
And I did. I stepped back, looked down, and gave her an "Oh shit" smile. My foot, excuse me, my TOE was touching the red carpet. I had been so relaxed, so tranced that my leg extended under the belt and the front of my foot had settled onto a piece of this carpet.
Looking around me everyone had the same expression. I wasn't embarrassed. The energy in the air was just "wow" with the thought of "unbelievable..."
Imagine the looks that future Red Carpet members will get walking through this line from even one of the 40 passengers who saw this go down.
The Red Carpet...don't fuck with it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
