I just left a happy birthday message for my bestest Juan (happy birthday, JohnnyT!), and, as I was hanging up the phone, I noticed that the call timer was over one minute. I wondered, what on earth did I just say to him for one minute?! The answer: nothing good.
Without any kind of response or barrier, just wide open talking time, things can get really out of hand. My thoughts – which are scattered at best – come out in this mindless drivel that is tedious for the message recipient and outright embarrassing for the message leaver (me).
I recall another message I left my buddy Miguel (strange that the two people I have thus far mentioned have names that are easily translated to Spanish – even stranger that, come to think of it, I actually took Spanish with each of these individuals…) pertaining to a lunch date.
“Michael, it’s Allie. I am calling in reference to our lunch date. I was thinking we might go to Jalisco because it is my favorite place to have Mexican food. We should absolutely get a cheese dip, and I will probably act like I am deciding between a beef soft taco and a cheese quesadilla, but I will ultimately end up ordering both. I hope you call me back before 11 because I am very hungry and you know what happens when I get hungry – my blood sugar drops and I get really cranky. I should probably have a snack now, just in case you don’t call me back before 11. I wonder what I’ll have…maybe some peanut butter crackers…”
And that’s just the part I remember. Ew, it’s even worse seeing it written out like that. Oh GOD what if these people are READING their voicemails via iPhone/Blackberry app or Google Voice?! I’m cringing as I type. The lesson here is clear: after four rings – five, max – hang up the phone.
I went to my first White Elephant Christmas party/gift exchange last night, hosted by Talbott and attended by ten or so. I’m still not entirely sure I understand the premise. Everyone brings an elaborately wrapped gift – I suppose the point is that you want people to choose your gift – Â but then people can opt to steal the gift you’ve chosen or open their own gift…and then the person whose gift gets stolen is then given the opportunity to steal another’s gift. Oh. I guess I do get it. Perhaps I’m just not that thrilled with the whole deal because someone STOLE my gift. To the grinch who yanked my bottle o’ red and grapefruit hand cream from Woo: I am not happy.
Lastly – you’re welcome (credit: MPvZB)