I don't really have a topic meaty enough to expand into a full post. In reality, I probably could drag one of the following snippets out into 750 word missive -- one of my talents is using a lot of words to say very little. Sometimes in law school I would raise my hand to make a comment, and afterward the person next to me would lean over and say something like, "You just monologued for four minutes and I'm not sure what you said." And I would respond with something like, "That is because you are stupid." Then, when grades came out a few months later, and mine were really mediocre, the person sitting next to me would lean over and say, "You just went to law school for a whole semester, and it seems from your grades as though you're not sure what anyone said." It's funny how life can be circular like that. Not the "ha ha" kind of funny, but more the "let's get depressed and eat a whole block of cheese in one sitting" kind of funny.
Here are a couple snippets.
-- I have a pet gecko. I named him Geico, which I think is kind of an ironic, hipster name, because I don't actually use Geico insurance, so that makes it ironic that I named my gecko Geico. I think. I don't in reality fully understand the meaning of the word "ironic." Neither do hipsters, but at least I can admit it. I think this makes me a post-hipster, because I'm so uncool, and I concede that I'm uncool, and that ultimately makes me really, really cool. I am pretty sure that's how post-hipster-ism works.
My pet gecko lives in my house, but I'm never really sure where I'll find him. Usually he's on the wall in my bedroom by the air conditioner. I think he likes the music I play when I'm getting ready for bed (usually Cher, despite the fact that her voice gives me nightmares). One time though when I was drying off after a shower, I looked down and Geico was hanging out right next to my little toe. I freaked out, because the first thing that comes to mind when I see a lizard is Godzilla, and Geico scurried away. I don't see him as much anymore. Maybe I'm not playing Cher loudly enough.
-- The Ambassador called me on the phone the other day. I said, "Hello," and he said, "Hi, this is Franz Beckenbauer." And I said, "This sounds a lot like the Ambassador," and he said, "No, this is Franz Beckenbauer," and I said, "I don't know a Franz Beckenbauer." So he said, "You don't?" And I said, "I don't think so. Are you sure this isn't the Ambassador?" And he said, "Yeah, this is the Ambassador. How do you not know who Franz Beckenbauer is?" And I said, "I don't really watch a lot of reality TV dealing with food," because I thought Franz Beckenbauer sounds like someone who would be a chef. The Ambassador explained that Franz Beckenbauer is a famous former German soccer player, kind of like Germany's Pele. I could not possibly have known this, because I don't follow soccer. But the Ambassador was under the impression that I do in fact follower soccer, because earlier in the day I had printed out a copy of the week's World Cup schedule for him. I tried to patch things up by saying, "I do follow Pearl Jam quite religiously," but I don't think that helped things very much. Now I'm going to forever be known in the U.S. diplomatic community as "The Guy Who Doesn't Even Know Who Franz Beckenbauer Is."
Here are a couple snippets.
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| None of these guys (the lady excepted) knows much of anything. (Syria, 2003) |
My pet gecko lives in my house, but I'm never really sure where I'll find him. Usually he's on the wall in my bedroom by the air conditioner. I think he likes the music I play when I'm getting ready for bed (usually Cher, despite the fact that her voice gives me nightmares). One time though when I was drying off after a shower, I looked down and Geico was hanging out right next to my little toe. I freaked out, because the first thing that comes to mind when I see a lizard is Godzilla, and Geico scurried away. I don't see him as much anymore. Maybe I'm not playing Cher loudly enough.
-- The Ambassador called me on the phone the other day. I said, "Hello," and he said, "Hi, this is Franz Beckenbauer." And I said, "This sounds a lot like the Ambassador," and he said, "No, this is Franz Beckenbauer," and I said, "I don't know a Franz Beckenbauer." So he said, "You don't?" And I said, "I don't think so. Are you sure this isn't the Ambassador?" And he said, "Yeah, this is the Ambassador. How do you not know who Franz Beckenbauer is?" And I said, "I don't really watch a lot of reality TV dealing with food," because I thought Franz Beckenbauer sounds like someone who would be a chef. The Ambassador explained that Franz Beckenbauer is a famous former German soccer player, kind of like Germany's Pele. I could not possibly have known this, because I don't follow soccer. But the Ambassador was under the impression that I do in fact follower soccer, because earlier in the day I had printed out a copy of the week's World Cup schedule for him. I tried to patch things up by saying, "I do follow Pearl Jam quite religiously," but I don't think that helped things very much. Now I'm going to forever be known in the U.S. diplomatic community as "The Guy Who Doesn't Even Know Who Franz Beckenbauer Is."