Posts Tagged ‘Things I do’

So, you know that quote from Hugo that goes, “I’d imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know? They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn’t be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason.” ? Yeah, I think my “reason” might just be to make other people feel better about themselves.

Certainly, I make it possible for people to say, “Well, that was a stupid thing to do, but at least I didn’t pull a BWC.”. To further provide a source of self-consolation, I present the events of this morning:

I woke up early today, expecting to have to follow regular college timing, only to find that the first two hours of class had been cancelled. Which meant I had two choices: 1. Go back t bed and 2. Watch an episode of The West Wing. I chose the latter, and I will allow that fact to speak for the show’s brilliance. And so it was, that I let an episode of TWW load, while I took a shower. So far, so good. Except, as I discovered on emerging post- shower, I had essentially locked myself in my bedroom. You see, the door handle on the inside (where I was) has been wobbly for a while now, with my dad’s tinkering being the only thing temporarily holding it there. And it came clean off, when I tried to open the door today (just as it has, ALL WEEK.)! This meant that the only appendage I could grip and use to pull the door open was a latch, but the door was pretty firmly shut and no amount of latch-pulling would make a difference. 

Fortunately, I had my cellphone on me (which is a real rarity, if you know me). But I didn’t have the any of the neighbours’ numbers on it, because, well, I’m BWC. So then, of course, I found a pencil and jimmied the door and escaped into freedom, like the brilliant engineer that I am.

No, I didn’t. I called my mom. I called my mom and told her that her 20-year-old daughter had locked herself in and needed to go to college and, basically, “No, I DON’T know why I shut the door when I know better! CALL SOMEONE! GET ME OUT! I’M LAAAATE!”. And since moms are superhuman beings with all kinds of powers of which we know not, she called our maid. And my highly-amused (and also quite concerned) maid came to the rescue, not long after. If she is convinced that schooling doesn’t improve the mind, I won’t blame her.

Fast-forward an hour and I sat there in college with other 20-year-olds, being taught about the nature of light, by someone who clearly imagines that I am totally capable of handling that, because he doesn’t know that I still can’t remember to not shut my malfunctioning door!

And let’s keep it that way. 😉

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The following is as close to a transcript of  a conversation I had yesterday, as I can offer.

Me: (calling FuzzyLogic)

Person-X: Hello?

Me: Hi. Yeah, you free?

Person-X: …Uh, WHY?

Me: What do you mean–wait, do you not recognize me?! O_o!

Person-X: No.

(I feel compelled to add that Fuzzy often replies in monosyllables. This is something, I feel sure, that  would only be enhanced by her not knowing the caller. My logic thus perfected, I proceeded. Quite gleefully, too, I might add. You will want to remember this to rub my face in later.)

Me: !!!! Do you not have caller ID?

Person-X: Yeah. But I don’t remember everybody’s numbers.

Me: *Playing positively wounded, now* Well, you should know THIS one! What has it been, TEN YEARS??!

Person-X: Eh?

Me: O.M.G.!  Fine! My name begins with an ‘A’ and ends with an ‘I’ !* ( This last one ,spoken very triumphantly)

Person-X: Uh..

Now, suspicion dawned. Fuzzy isn’t the brightest crayon in the box ( I am, although you may beg to differ at the conclusion of this tale), but she can spell. This, along with several factors that an astuter being than I may have picked up on, if such a one existed, led to an “Oh” Moment. Then I hung up really, really quickly.

Person-X may now be safely revealed to have been Fuzzy’s brother or ‘FuzzBrother’, as we shall refer to him henceforth. Suffice it to say, nothing will induce me to call her on her land-line EVER again.

Moral of the story: Look before you leap. Srsly.

* No, my name isn’t really BWC. Sorry to disappoint.

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