when i was young i listened to the radio

I learned a wonderful new phrase today: "Off with the fairies." My Aussie co-worker said it – I had asked her if we were really ending classes next week and she wasn't quite sure; "Sorry, I've been off with the fairies lately."

Excited, I asked if that was a real phrase. She said it was. I'm a bit surprised that my Australian high school math teacher never made the reference towards me (she had plenty of similar things to say).

Basically it means spacing out. Who better to space with than the fairies?

**

I think referring to your body as your "person" is just about the funniest thing in the world. "The money is somewhere on my person." My person? Yes, the person I take around with me everywhere. I wash my person, and feed her and take her out for walks.

but he spoke braid scots, when he courted me

Today's Smashing Story: Is a NYT piece about an online store retailer whose business strategy is to be rude to his customers. No, not silly Dick's Last Resort rude – more like Hannibal Lecter, graphically threatening emails, 3 am phone calls, messages with photos of the customer's house, rude.

After initially hiring a company to post positive reviews about his site to clear its image, Vitaly Borker discovered that negative reviews were actually more helpful to his revenue – the reviewers negative comments and links caused his site to be placed higher in Google search results, attracting more customers.

Or, as the article quotes him: “I never had the amount of traffic I have now since my 1st complaint. I am in heaven.”

I'm wondering if this guy has an extreme form of Empathy Deficit Disorder, or if he's a psychopath, because I'd like to think that most people wouldn't inflict severe psychological damage on strangers without some sort of mental issue.

I don't really buy into EDD – I think it's not a disorder and not necessarily a "childhood" thing. It's probably a symptom of lots of different conditions (possibly including certain personality types).


**

I had a friend who had a "one date" policy. Basically, she would go on one date with any guy, the rationale being that everyone deserves a chance to prove himself. This made for some interesting stories, and a bunch of 2nd date rejections.

I do not have this policy.

If I know I'm not interested, why waste his time and money? If he's somehow going to change my mind, I doubt one date would do it. Maybe if he wrote me a symphony. Someone once told me that upon meeting a guy, a girl immediately knows if she would ever date him. I think, on a subconscious level, this might be a fairly accurate generalization. This doesn't mean she will immediately say yes, but she might eventually agree to seeing a guy who is on the subconscious "possible" list. Guys who are initially placed on the "never" list, have an extremely slim chance of getting off of it.

And guys who try to pick you up after meeting you once? Personally, not interested. I, and many girls I know, have what I call a "context complex." We need a context – we need to have hung out a few times, shared a class, work together, etc. and gotten to see you interact in a few situations.

"I understand the courage it takes to walk across a room and try to generate a relationship out of thin air," (Hitch), but I'm not going to date a giant question mark. Even a cute one. A company won't hire an employee without asking for references and doing a background check – think of context as a relationship background check (seeing as it would be unromantic to literally ask for references.)

Naturally, all of the above spiel is based on me/my friends, and it's probable that many girls would differ in opinion. Also, I'm perennially single, so mine may not be the best approach out there.

Maybe when I'm 34 and scared of being 35 and tired of people asking when I'm going to meet someone and sick of asking the mailman for help opening spaghetti sauce jars and through with folding sheets by myself...maybe then I'll break down and try to fall in love with a guy I've never met and am not interested in. Maybe at some point it has less to do with a person than a lifestyle and a desire to have a warm, living, being to bounce thoughts off of, who tells you he prefers your voice to Barbara Streisand's, and who smiles at you when you pronounce archive with a "ch."

Until then, I'm happy with my context complex.


**
I thought this video was great, mostly because I love minesweeper, but it's such a pointless game.

If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life

John Stewart covers Swedish socialism.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
The Stockholm Syndrome Pt. 1
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Rally to Restore Sanity

ain't that the reason you're at this club?

"We're all looking for love, ain't that the reason you're at this club?" My sister and I always laugh at these lyrics. The idea of looking for love in a club sounds...ineffective. Sorry Jason Derulo.

**

I recently skimmed through Time Magazines' 50 Best Inventions of 2010.

My Favorite Inventions of Time Magazine's Favorite Inventions:

-A Sarcasm Sensor. Specifically, a Semi-Supervised Algorithm for Sarcasm Identification. Apparently it searches through product reviews and has a 77% accuracy rate. In my opinion, that isn't a great rate. If a birth control had 77% accuracy, no one would use it. Still, I suppose it's impressive for what it does – as someone pointed out, I wonder what the average human sarcasm detection accuracy rate is.

I've had to develop a physical system to inform Mr. Marx of my sarcasm and vice versa. (He signs the letter "S" when he's being sarcastic.)

- Super Super Soaker. Military. Pretty much what it sounds like. I got excited because it's a super super soaker, and that's exciting.

- The Deceitful Robot. A robot that can lie? Uh oh...

- Lifeguard Thingy. A remote controlled floatation zooms through heavy waves at about 15 times the speed of a lifeguard. I read this and wondered why it hadn't been invented before.

-Underwater Kite. Need I say more?

-Iron Man Suit. Yes.

So: I was inspired by all these inventions to come up with something innovative. Here it is: A regulated site where people send in ideas for inventions. A few people monitor the submissions and the interesting ones get published. Kind of like FML but with a purpose. Actually, not like FML at all.

I know so many people who have really decent ideas for inventions, but don't have the money/time/know how to create their ideas. This seems wasteful. Why not compile them on a site which can then be accessed by people with resources?

**

In our preschool English class, 3-year-old Hugo has a crush on 3-year-old Esther. He is always looking at her, showing off for her, and smiling when she's around.

Today they held hands while we sang "Head and Shoulders." This is a difficult feat.

**

Dear tall, young Asian man,

I saw you looking at me and I tried to give a flicker of an encouraging smile but I think it was too subtle. You seemed interesting: confident, not arrogant; reserved, not shy. I wanted to ask you what your story was.

How did you get to Sweden? What's in the bag you're carrying? Why are you wandering around at midnight on a Saturday? Do you miss someone right now? What was your childhood like? If you could relive one memory...? Were your parents strict? Do you like chai? Classical music?

I would have answered your questions. Well, most of them. I'm on my way home from a church event. I didn't make my bus because I overshot my metro stop because I was daydreaming. I could have been charming and clever and sweet. I could have made you laugh. Or smile. You could have told me something interesting, something thought-provoking. Or trivial. Then my bus would have come and we would have parted, each feeling somehow lifted. Lighter. Brighter.

Of course, that's not how it turned out. My mother says I should go back to the bus stop next Saturday. But I think that would kill it. It's a shame.

you're unsuited for the rage of war, so pack up

My blogging buddy, Emma Cole, recently linked an article from Psychology Today (which she apparently still reads obsessively) about introverts and extroverts.

The two main ideas that struck me were 1) reaction time and 2) internal monologues. I'm working on a story from the 1st person perspective of a 20 something girl, and judging by her internal monologue, she's definitely an introvert.

I thought the reaction time concept was interesting; apparently introverts would rather have a period of time to think so that they have something polished and thoughtful to say. Extroverts generally react immediately.

Best picture in the world.

In my experience, this reaction time theory varies by situation and person. Many of the introverts I have known have given me immediate responses to questions/comments in conversations. Maybe in one-on-one conversations they feel less pressure to think through everything (or they're just more on the spot?) Or perhaps this is only the case when it's a topic they have previously thought through? Or if it's a topic that isn't difficult or mind-bending?

Also, as an extrovert, I admit that my reactions are often immediate, verbal, and rapid. But not always. If it's a conversation about something I haven't really thought about, I generally prefer to listen – I don't like processing new information on the spot. In fact, I'm really bad at it. So is that simply me, an extrovert, displaying some of my introverted qualities? How many introverted qualities am I allotted before I'm considered to be functioning as one? And when my introverted friends are talking away, fully engaging externally, are they displaying their extroverted qualities? Or are they just being chatty introverts (who will be drained later that evening)?

There I go, packaging everybody up into boxes again:) Stereotyping can be useful to get an initial grasp of someone, but if it starts out harmful it might be more damaging than useful (Ie. Extroverts have less depth. Introverts don't like people as much)– I much prefer to assume the best and be proven wrong.

I love getting to the end of thoughts and conversations like this because I go all Ecclesiastes: None of it actually matters. Philosophy - changing anything? And yet I'm so drawn to it.

Favorite part of the article:

Even a simple opener of "Hello, how are you? Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you about X," from anyone can challenge an introvert. Rather than bypassing the first question or interrupting the flow to answer it, the introvert holds onto the question: Hmm, how am I? (An internal dialogue begins, in which the introvert "hears" herself talking internally as the other person speaks.)

Even if the introvert responds, "I'm good," she's probably still reflecting on how she is: Good? That's not quite right. I really have had a pretty crummy day, but there isn't a quick way to explain that. She wants to first work out privately her thoughts and judgment about the day. She also may evaluate the question itself: I hate that we so often just say 'good' because that's the convention. The other person doesn't really want to know. She may even activate memories of how the question has struck her in the past.

– Revenge of the Introvert, Psychology Today

**

This internal monologue cracked me up. It's the type of thing I might think/write/talk about later, but to rabbit trail like that in the middle of a conversation – it would drive me crazy. And possibly make me really, really insecure.

So: Small Talk Question of the Blog: What do you generally think about when you're by yourself? Do you relive memories/conversations? Do you worry about what you're doing? Do you think about how you're feeling? Do you think through theories and ideas? Do you avoid thinking and look for stimulation?

i need help believing you're with me tonight

The girl I was tutoring today told me about her fear of the dark, scary movies and haunted houses. I made fun of her until I remembered that during college my friends and I would do scary movie nights where we pushed couches together, fought over good seating (not on the crack), grabbed each other and screamed throughout the entire movie. Except Shawnie. She always laughed.

**

Aside from tutoring Swedish children in English, I tutor a few American boys, usually helping with their homework (mostly Math and Science). Today I had the pleasure of reading "Lancelot the Gigilo" which the ten-year-old had written for English class. The assignment was to write an editorial defending the position of Lancelot as a Gigilo or a Giant. Fun times.

**

Amadeus walked into the kitchen as I was eating dinner tonight and announced that she was sick of having trivial conversations. Instead, she wanted to use cards with pre-messaged answers to hand out to anyone trying to talk to her.

"Aren't 70% of your conversations dull and taxing?!" I told her no, only the ones I had with her. She found this extremely witty and amusing and took everything back. Or something.

**

On It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Dennis, one of the main characters, explains his system for dating women. It's called the Dennis System, and he describes how he used it on his latest conquest.

The Dennis System

D: Demonstrate Value. He does this by pretending to help a fake sick grandmother.
E: Engage Physically. Yes, this is step number 2.
N: Nurture Dependence. He makes threatening anonymous phone calls to the girl so that he can then go to her house and tells her he will protect her.
N: Neglect Emotionally. He stops talking to her completely.
I: Inspire Hope. He calls her and apologizes profusely, telling her he had been scared of how strong his feelings had been.
S: Separate Completely.


Sunny is Christophe's show, which he occasionally convinces me to watch (by telling me I remind him of Dee. And a bird.) After this episode, I couldn't help complain about what ridiculous jerks the characters always are. Christophe told me to think about all the relationships I or my friends have had, because they probably followed this system pretty closely. Maybe in Missouri Christophe.

tell her how the ...

"Hi, I'm ----."
"Hi -----."
"I own a shop."
"What do you sell?"
"I sell ....."

This is a game I play with the kids to practice their vocabulary. Each person has to say all of the previous for sale items and make a new one up.

Today's lesson went something like this:

"Hi, I'm Karin."
"Hi Karin."
"I rown –"
"Own. You own."
"I own a –" (asks her brother a question in Swedish)
"Store."
"What do you sell?"
"Uhhh." A minute goes by.
"It can be anything."
She exchanges some more words in Swedish with her brother. He finally says "Draugoon."
"Draugoons."
"Dragons?"
"Yes."

Then it was Sven's turn. He was pretty excited.
"I sell RPGs."
"Rocket propelled grenades?" I asked incredulously.
"No," Stefan butted in. "Rocket propelled grenade launchers."
"OK. Stefan's turn."
He listed a very specific shotgun.
"Where are you getting these words from?"
"Call of Duty 4."
"Well you can't use it. No more weapons."
"But everything can be a weapon. A house can be a weapon."
I rolled my eyes.
"Fine. Sell pillows."
"A pillow can be a weapon."
"How?"
"If you hold it to someone's mouth so they can't breathe."

I eventually convinced him to stop listing weapons. Our list turned out something like this:

Dragons, RPGs, Half Life 2 episodes 1 and 2, butterflies (mine), humans, hair...

Sounds like a store I'd definitely want to check out.

sexy sadie, what have you done?

Smashing Story: 10 songs you thought were about women. This reminded me of a conversation I had with some guys in high school. One of them asserted that every song was either written about or inspired by a woman. We threw ridiculous songs his way, but he had an answer for every one. (Apparently The Wheels on the Bus was inspired by the menstrual cycle.)

**

Swedes sometimes have a problem with interchanging fun and funny. (Note: I am not making fun of their English – it's excellent and far beyond any of my language abilities). This makes for cute comments along the lines of "I'm having a good time, this is so funny." My personal favorite was in class on Monday when Tristan asked, "Why is it always so funny in English class?" he laughed. "Why is English class so funny?!" I had a hard time figuring out if he was trying to say fun or funny or both. To his credit, it probably would be a confusing concept if this wasn't my native language.

That's what I'm called in the world of ESL – a native English speaker. It makes me feel primal, interesting, specially skilled. Well, not really.

I frequently get in trouble for making up a city or state when people ask where I'm from. If I'm in one state, I choose a different one to avoid detailed questions. I generally pick one that I have some sort of connection with (Texas, Connecticut, California, Virginia, New Jersey, Florida). In Sweden, I tell people I moved here from California. I hope I'm not needlessly upsetting any stereotypes of peroxide blond hair, orange skin, and Valley girl accents. We all need to believe there's a place out there like that.

Today Amadeus informed me she told a classmate she was from L.A. She has never lived in L.A. I'm actually not sure if she's even visited. Possibly once. When I questioned her choice of city, she said, "Well dad's kind of from there." Kind of. As in, he was born in Coronado and then grew up overseas.

So I'm thinking, as long as we're lying we might as well pick a new country. Not that I'm unpatriotic – it just seems easier and would save stereotypes. Being American is like having an unauthorized biography about yourself. There are lots of truths, lots of twisted truths, a few outright lies, and people assume they know something about you before talking. Of course other countries have reputations – but their books don't sell as well (less war, money, power, scandals, etc.).

OK so I'm being silly. Prejudgment – that's life. People assume they know something about you based on your shoes, the set of your shoulders, the size of your phone. And maybe it's good to have a base to build on (or rebuild as the case may be.)

turned me around and you got me believin'

Amadeus called me a dork earlier today. Later I asked if she knew what her Myers-Briggs letters were. I started to guess the letters, when she said, "I'm an E-M-M-A!" and laughed hysterically.

Yes. I got called a dork by that.

Shout out: To Emma Cole. I've managed to transport your bizarre Japanese cards to Sweden, probably through a misguided attempt to keep them for you until later. My family played 6 with them tonight, and nobody seemed to care about or appreciate the humor. I even tried to explain about the umbilical cord one that was buried inside the deck. (Apparently you have to see it to appreciate it). I'm sorry I stole your cards and your ring. Think of them as a deposit for seeing me again.

you're perfect – you're perfect, so we're perfect together

(Bride and Prejudice: No Life without Wife)


Yesterday, Amadeus, Lexis and I got to visit some old friends – three lovely girls we knew in Egypt. The conversation turned, as it often does in a small group of girls, to men and marriage. We discussed "lists" of things we were looking for in a guy.

Lexis, my 15-year-old sister had quite an impressive list. Highlights:

-magician
-composer
-someone with a secret (she was quite serious about that one)
-green eyes
-genius
-plays harp, violin, piano
-strong enough to carry her
-British, Scottish, or French accent


So if you happen to know anyone who meets all of these criteria, please let me know and I'll begin the screening process.

Until then, here's a quote from Amadeus:

"I would never date someone I don't love, and I would never sell someone I love for money."

This was her (eventual) response to the question of whether she would dump her boyfriend for a million dollars. It leads me to my...

Small Talk Question of the Blog: What do you think of the idea of only dating someone you love?

**

There you have it. Two of my sisters: selective like the CIA. My other sister, dating an ex-swimmer from Ohio. And me, with the claddagh that I should probably figure out.

it's bedtime, it's bedtime, it's bedtime

"It's bedtime..." these two words repeated over and over in different keys, comprise the bedtime song of Benjamin, the four-year-old I'm babysitting tonight. Not terribly original, but effective.

**

Sweden's Father's Day is tomorrow, so this morning's craft was a card to Dad, complete with a drawing by the child of him and his father.

This was a pretty easy project, aside from the inevitably ambiguous squiggles that the children labeled as "Dad" and "me." Not terribly flattering likenesses, but endearing coming from your child.

Julius, a six-year-old in the bilingual class who understands barely any English, had a few problems with the project. He grabbed the sample card with a picture drawn of Kenisha (my co-teacher) and her dad. He copied it exactly – including the labels – and ended up with a Father's Day card with a picture of Kenisha instead of himself. I took his paper away and asked him to draw another one, emphasizing that he was to draw "Julius" (point at him), not Kenisha.

He drew himself. And then he drew his mom and told me he was finished. I would have let it go, except for the fact that it was a Father's Day card. So I had him add his father into the picture.

you walked into my life and i thought "hey"

As I was typing a query into Google this morning I was, as usual, distracted by its suggestions for my search. "How to get a girl to like you." Really? I couldn't help but click and see what type of advice was offered to a young man searching for this on the internet.

Some of the Advice:

-Look Good. Work out run a mile or two, do some sit ups, get a six pack, etc. Also get a tan, so when you go to the pool and she is there, she will be like, "wow". Girls like a guy with a tan and some muscles, but don't overdo it; girls don't like it when you have too much muscles. That just shows that you love your muscles too much. Older people usually look better with normal facial and neck fat content range.


-Tickling can be risky because people who don't like it really don't like it, so beware. Don't take tickling too far, in any case; be gentle, and don't do it to the point that she's begging or screaming at you to stop.

-Don't stalk her. If she doesn't want to date, it means that she probably doesn't want a stalker either.


Some of the Questions:

"hey, valetnines day is coming up, and theres a girl i like... i want to make a card and write something in it that will make her like me, i was thinkin something along the lines of i had a dream once, me and you were together, happy, and we ha da beautiful house and beautiful children, for the first time in my life i was truly happy, and then i started to cry, coz i woke up and realised you werent there in my arms... what do you think? relpy soon please!"

"i meet a girl at a bus stop once in a week...how do i get her to notice me and be my friend?"

"i saw a girl but she doesnt like me. how do i make her like me so i can get a kiss"


**

Ah high school. I don't remember it being like that.

but Moses supposes erroneously

Today Amadeus told me that I've ruined her interactions with friends at school.

"What?" I asked, a bit confused.

"Yeah," she said, pausing from the dish she was washing. "Like, you and me always have these really boring, mundane, sometimes factual conversations."

I looked at her. This wasn't complimentary so far.

She continued, "But we laugh at everything. Even things that aren't funny. So now at school when someone says something normal, I'll laugh and nobody will join me. Like, someone will say 'Can I sit here?' and I'll burst out laughing."

I informed her that I don't laugh at dull moments, and she was the one with the uncontrollable laughter problem. She reminded me that I had burst into hysterics during dessert tonight.

In my defense, it was over something really funny. And in defense of this blog, I know she will laugh, even if noone else does. I just had bahand tha tares of a clawn.

you speak to me in riddles

I have a notebook that I used for school when I was seven. On one of the pages, I completed an assignment about what I wanted to be when I grew up. My answer went along the lines of:

A ballerina, because I like to dance.
An actress because I feel great when I'm on stage.
An author.
A mom with a horse.

Apparently being a mom with a horse is greatly superior to the alternative.

The ballerina idea failed (remember my attempt in Sweden?), but the acting and writing have lingered. Acting: fairly typical desire for a young, theatrical, attention-adoring girl. Writing: rather odd choice of future career for a child. As my buddy Dante put it:


But to dream of being a writer is quite a queer concept. If you dream of being an astronaut, you imagine skipping on the moon or hopping about on Mars. To dream of being a sports star clearly brings forth heavenly thrills of game winning catches and miraculous saves.

Yet to dream of writing is to imagine being so enamored with a realm whose existence doesn't expand passed the depths of your mind, that you are driven entirely by an internal monologue within one's self. It's only a romantic image when viewed with an idyllic lens of what the 'tortured artist' should look like.

To dream to be a writer is to dream to choose to live your life inside your head, rather than to share your action-life with the outside world.


Donc, writing is not only an odd choice for a seven-year-old: it's an odd choice for an extroverted social madcap like myself. And, according to Dante, an odd choice in general. He goes on to relate how watching Office Space (combined with this thought process on writing) brought him to the conclusion that he'd rather be physically living in an external world than in his head. This is not the conclusion that I would draw, mostly because I don't think the dichotomy needs to be so extreme; I hope to be able to traverse both worlds.

In Walker Percy's Lost in the Cosmos, he describes the problematic issue of "reentry" – the great writer's return to reality after transcending this world. As one of my friends described it: Dostoevsky has just completed The Brother's Karamazov and goes to the corner store to buy a drink. He overhears the trite conversations around him and is suddenly brought down from his lofty ideals into a dirty, mundane world. He has difficulty coping with this reentry.

Percy cites authors who reacted to reentry in different ways: drinking binges, traveling, sexual escapades, gambling – these writers have so perfectly described their surroundings, yet cannot reenter without finding a new escape.

**

I would like to one day be talented enough to write something which so thoroughly removes me from reality that I find it extremely difficult to reenter. Sounds like an intriguing, natural, productive high. Yes, I do romanticize the tortured artist. And the struggling one. The idea of living in the countryside in Ireland or New England – or anywhere beautiful – and spending my days producing works of fiction, sounds incredibly appealing to me.

Is this along the same lines of monk vs. person of the world argument? Dedicating your life to God through solitary prayer and silence, or dedicating it to God through actions and interactions...

Writer or Actress? Or teaching little ESL kids?

I suppose I could always buy myself a horse and adopt a child. Seems too easy.

**

Improv Everywhere: They perform a spontaneous musical in a food court.

looks like you're not happy, 'less I open a vein

I need to start making friends without addictions.

Today I visited Scrap Happy Chelsey (don't click if you don't want to get really hungry)at her wonderful red home in Nacka. I will probably refer to her as ScrapCrazyChelsey – SCC – from now on. She. Is. Scrap. Crazy.

Five years ago – after relentlessly teasing her friends about their hobby – SCC made her first scrapbook, preserving memories and moments from her wedding. She was hooked. She kept scrapbooking, started her own business selling supplies online, ran monthly crops, and attended weekend retreats where they powernapped in lieu of sleeping.

In Sweden, she has a room dedicated to the hobby. It hosts shelves and cabinets of supplies – papers, tools, punches, kits, etc. Now I've caught the scrapbooking fire, and am mentally planning an ambitious Facebook photo transference project.

Smashing Story: Apparently the U.S. is spying on Sweden. Well, that isn't true – a disgruntled Norwegian worker accused the U.S. Embassy of spying (really?) in Norway, and Scandinavia generally runs on a "buy one, get all free" policy.

**

Life Advice: When you turn 20, your mother will start thinking about grandchildren.

My mother didn't strike the genetic lottery with me. She, the diplomat's wife with a fondness for afternoon tea, has always had difficulty with me. As a child, I would wiggle and whine when she brushed my hair, and I had a a complete disregard for clothing (only noticing it when it hindered running/playing in dirt or with tadpoles).

"Dress to impress. You're on the market."
"I'm not a slab of meat for sale."

These are the types of conversations we have. Scintillating, I know.

**

Have you heard about the leprechauns?
Favorite part: 10 seconds in; the expression on the male anchor's face.

wearing a dress shaped like a pastry

I'm still going strong with my genius idea of printing out incomplete lyrics and having the kids listen to the song and fill in the gaps.

A couple weeks ago, I asked one of my classes if they wanted to do a Taylor Swift song. Reality check: Not everyone in Sweden has heard of TayTay. Weird. But they have heard of Michael Jackson, and asked if we could do something like "Thriller." I rejected this on the basis that it's probably the worst song in the world to have 7-year-old ESL students translate. The only words I remember in it are "nnnnnn THRILLER nnnnnn."

Being the flexible teacher that I am, I tried to think of another MJ song that had decipherable lyrics. I came up with Billy Jean. I had a mental image of something like this:

Billy Jean is not my _________
She's just a _____ who thinks that I am the ____ .
The ___ is not my _____.

This idea was quickly nixed; I wasn't enthused at the prospect of explaining "lover." Actually, I wasn't enthused at explaining anything about that song to my 7-year-olds, or their parents.

So: Taylor it was. We did Love Story, and I lucked out – the boys were absent. Olivia asked me if it was I who was singing the song, and I told her it wasn't. My classroom isn't always a den of lies.

**

Amadeus has recently convinced me to join her in watching an extremely dramatic television show. I initially refused on the basis of not wanting to turn my mind into flubber (I'm a firm believer of guarding your mind – "Eat fat, greasy food, become a fat, greasy dude" – etc.), but I soon caved because television is our bonding time (sad?) and I'm weak (more sad?).

No, this isn't interesting blog fodder, except that I've become so wrapped in the drama that Amadeus and I discuss the characters like they're real people. And I've started dreaming about them. I'm mostly wondering what information in my brain was deleted to make room for the dramatic secrets, lies, plots, and character analysis that are now residing in my head. Oh well, I don't really drink, so maybe that cancels it out?

Could we please invent a way to organize mind information? I'm pretty sure the phsyics formulas I memorized in high school are ready to come out. They're only useful with the metric system anyways.

Speaking of; the U.S. has been trying and failing to convert to the metric system since '75. This cracks me up. They call the process "metrication." This also cracks me up. It reminds me of matriculation. Funny words with dull meanings.

we once walked out on the beach and once I almost touched your hand

Small Talk Question of the Blog: What's some of the best advice ever given to you? Or just any advice that you remember specifically?

My friend Emma Cole used to say "You always have a choice." It was like her catchphrase. I really like it because it's empowering – no matter what mistakes you've made or what situation you're in, you always have a choice in your decisions.

Even if it's been a long, horrible day at the DMV, you still have the choice to stay calm, read a book, and remind yourself that you only have to make these trips every few years. (Or in my case, several times a day to retrieve missing items every few years.)

**

My mother met a Swede today who said that he had been to a DMV in Florida. "Americans are angry people," he told her. I love the idea of basing a judgment on Americans based on a visit to one of our DMVs.

Though if you think about it, that's one of the places where people are showing their true colors. Kind of like not marrying someone before you've gone camping with him.