Thursday, August 18, 2005
Tibetan monks are creating a mandala at our library to be scattered over Riverscape tommorrow--it's too gorgeous not to share with everyone.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Disturbing discoveries
My favorite UPS guy looked sheepish the other day.
"Um...Jules--be careful when you actually USE this." He looked at his feet.
"Huh?" I said, but he scuttled away--
I opened the package. In it, there was a strange machine. On its side were the words MAN TRANSLATION DEVICE. Paperwork included explained "Finally, what all women need! Something to finally explain the opposite sex's actual words, as well as what they actually hear when you speak to them!"
I was intrigued. I am a Social Psychologist, so I need to understand all of humanity I possibly can. Normally it wouldn't occur to me to need a Man translator, since men were the other half of my species, but what the heck? I mean, surely we couldn't possibly be that different, right?
I twisted the knobs of the machine to translate the "huh?" I'd said to the UPS guy.
Instantly, I spoke the words of the UPS guy into the machine. Here's what he actually heard me say:
Oh, look at my pert breasts! Now, take me now!
Shocked, I dropped the thing. The hell?
I have finished translating all things I've actually said to men--as well as have translated electronic mail messages sent and I am disturbed. For example, out of curiosity I contacted a guy I once knew in High School to see what had happened to him. In my message I tried hard to NOT be flirtatious--made a big point to explain I was hitched, happily so, and just wanted to see what happened to him.
Actual message sent:
"I'm happily married and therefore don't want to appear like I am stalking you or hitting on you."
What did he hear?
"Oh, baby--I've been waiting for you all these years. Come to my town, throw me against the wall and DO ME NOW. My husband can't wait to watch."
I decided to curl up into a little ball.
I decided to try the other track--what they mean when they speak.
OK--friends of mine have been baffled in dating, I decided to ask it phrases men have spoken to them that have upset them greatly, "I'll call you."
"Forget it, honey--unless you give me head."
Now I am seriously depressed. Is the machine wrong? In the name of science, I took the machine over to friends who refuse to admit their names in this blog. Let's call one Vixen, the other Daphne. Vixen is a delightful Swedish woman with pixiesque features and the kind of light blond hair that seems fictional but isn't.
In the interest of science, I have asked them to finish this post using their observations:
VIXEN'S OBSERVATIONS:
" I will be there soon."
" Soon is a relative time--I'll head out the door after I've had a sandwich or two and have stopped to get a beer, then I'll make sure to make several stops on the way to her house, making it indicate two hours and 45 minutes."
" Just a little longer till we get there"
"Where the Hell are we? I can't ask for directions--I have a superior penis homing device and know that if we wait a little longer it can guide us where we need to go. If she keeps asking for silly things like directions I'm going to simply ignore her."
" I want to be a friend"
" I'd like the opportunity to boff you and the other hot chick I found"
" I love you"
" I want to have sex with you but what do you mean I need to like you and take responsibily for my actions?"
Daphne, a raven haired beauty, has decided she wants to play with the device. After fighting Vixen, she runs into the other room with it. The following are her observations translating men's statements:
" I know where I'm going."
" I have no clue and I don't need a map or directions"
" Ilove you but can't tell them we are dating because I want to see my kid"
" I am whipped by my ex"
Finally, before more damage was done, I wrenched the machine out of my friends' hands. I ran outdoors, intending to destroy it before it threatened mankind. I was about to throw it against a jagged rock, but a man across the street stopped and called to say hello to me across the street.
"Nice tits" the machine said.
"Um...Jules--be careful when you actually USE this." He looked at his feet.
"Huh?" I said, but he scuttled away--
I opened the package. In it, there was a strange machine. On its side were the words MAN TRANSLATION DEVICE. Paperwork included explained "Finally, what all women need! Something to finally explain the opposite sex's actual words, as well as what they actually hear when you speak to them!"
I was intrigued. I am a Social Psychologist, so I need to understand all of humanity I possibly can. Normally it wouldn't occur to me to need a Man translator, since men were the other half of my species, but what the heck? I mean, surely we couldn't possibly be that different, right?
I twisted the knobs of the machine to translate the "huh?" I'd said to the UPS guy.
Instantly, I spoke the words of the UPS guy into the machine. Here's what he actually heard me say:
Oh, look at my pert breasts! Now, take me now!
Shocked, I dropped the thing. The hell?
I have finished translating all things I've actually said to men--as well as have translated electronic mail messages sent and I am disturbed. For example, out of curiosity I contacted a guy I once knew in High School to see what had happened to him. In my message I tried hard to NOT be flirtatious--made a big point to explain I was hitched, happily so, and just wanted to see what happened to him.
Actual message sent:
"I'm happily married and therefore don't want to appear like I am stalking you or hitting on you."
What did he hear?
"Oh, baby--I've been waiting for you all these years. Come to my town, throw me against the wall and DO ME NOW. My husband can't wait to watch."
I decided to curl up into a little ball.
I decided to try the other track--what they mean when they speak.
OK--friends of mine have been baffled in dating, I decided to ask it phrases men have spoken to them that have upset them greatly, "I'll call you."
"Forget it, honey--unless you give me head."
Now I am seriously depressed. Is the machine wrong? In the name of science, I took the machine over to friends who refuse to admit their names in this blog. Let's call one Vixen, the other Daphne. Vixen is a delightful Swedish woman with pixiesque features and the kind of light blond hair that seems fictional but isn't.
In the interest of science, I have asked them to finish this post using their observations:
VIXEN'S OBSERVATIONS:
" I will be there soon."
" Soon is a relative time--I'll head out the door after I've had a sandwich or two and have stopped to get a beer, then I'll make sure to make several stops on the way to her house, making it indicate two hours and 45 minutes."
" Just a little longer till we get there"
"Where the Hell are we? I can't ask for directions--I have a superior penis homing device and know that if we wait a little longer it can guide us where we need to go. If she keeps asking for silly things like directions I'm going to simply ignore her."
" I want to be a friend"
" I'd like the opportunity to boff you and the other hot chick I found"
" I love you"
" I want to have sex with you but what do you mean I need to like you and take responsibily for my actions?"
Daphne, a raven haired beauty, has decided she wants to play with the device. After fighting Vixen, she runs into the other room with it. The following are her observations translating men's statements:
" I know where I'm going."
" I have no clue and I don't need a map or directions"
" Ilove you but can't tell them we are dating because I want to see my kid"
" I am whipped by my ex"
Finally, before more damage was done, I wrenched the machine out of my friends' hands. I ran outdoors, intending to destroy it before it threatened mankind. I was about to throw it against a jagged rock, but a man across the street stopped and called to say hello to me across the street.
"Nice tits" the machine said.
