Let's get this show on the road.
It's a re-enactment of the Battle of the Boyne using traffic cones and misleading lights.
I'm going to up my blog frequency with a simple trick. I will try, every day, to fill in the below information. Then at least I'll have something to say.
Lucy's DeviantArt journal has little categories at the bottom (for what she's watching/reading etc), which she doesn't even bother to update. This angers me. She angers me.
I'll steal the choices from there. Keep in mind that these will usually refer to the previous day or so. If I'm writing my blog, I'm watching myself write the blog, reading the blog, and listening to the keystrokes. But I can't just put that every day.
Unless it would be funny to put that every day.
No. No it probably wouldn't.
***
Mood: Not particularly downbeat, not particularly upbeat. Just beat.
Listening to: Ennio Morricone: Deborah's Theme
Reading: Um... nothing? I should be reading Machiavelli's The Prince as part of my Idiot Flaps Odyssey, but I got all sidetracked with life and autumn and comics. Maybe that counts. Ed Brubaker's Captain America is good.
Watching: The beginning of various different Inspector Morse episodes. And that awesome new David Attenborough series on BBC 2. You should watch it. My favourite quote:
"But for the sponge, this is of no consequence."
Playing: I suppose this is for video games. I have actually been playing the not-very-good FIFA 11 on the Wii. I've also been playing football with Lucy in the fields near our house. We're amazing.
Eating: I've just had some salad bar salad from the salad bar. Curried sweet potato salad for the win. I think I got too many creamy things though, and now I feel a bit ill.
Drinking: Too-expensive freshly-squeezed orange juice. They used to have blood orange juice, but they stopped selling it to spite me. I imagine.
***
Wasn't that fun? I'll try to do that more often. By about the third one, the tedium of my life will become apparent. If it wasn't already.
I've got a tip for you. A social tip. Normally, I'm the last person you'd want to take that kind of advice from, but this is a real winner.
If you're sitting in a cafe or restaurant, sometimes a person might be in need of an extra chair. We've all been in that situation. Well, except for Sue and well all know what she's like.
They need an extra chair, and see what appears to be an unused chair on your table. And it is unused.
Everything should work out fine, right?
Wrong.
You see, you know they want the chair. You're anticipating the request. You're anticipating the smug satisfaction of helping a chairless chump in need.
The trouble is, you don't know how they're going to ask the question.
You might be ready with an affirmative "yes" when a "no" is required. Let me explain:
Scene: You and a single friend (perhaps from the Navy) are sitting together on a four-seat table. You are two people. You are using one seat each. A total of two seats are in use.
Maths tells us that a total of two seats are left unneeded. There are two spare seats. You're not even resting your shopping bags/depth charges on them. They are spare.
On the next table (also a four-seater), five people have arrived to quaff and imbibe various items. But there are five of them. And only four seats. That's one seat too few.
(Are you following so far? If not, return to the beginning of the italicized section and start again).
One member of this five-strong party spots what seem to be spare seats on your table. They are spare seats.
You spot them spotting them. You'll be happy to share them. You're anticipating the warmth of smugnocity. You see them coming over. You have the "yes" on your lips.
And then the following exchange happens:
Other Person: Excuse me, is this seat taken?
You: Yes.
Disaster!
You meant to say "yes" to them asking for the seat! But by asking if the seat was taken, they inverted the whole thing!
They go away with no seat! You have no smug feeling! And there's nothing you can do about it (short of correcting yourself, but you and the Admiral are too proud for that)!
Of course, you might be anticipating that question. But you can never be sure. The opposite is equally likely.
Other Person: Excuse me, can I have this seat?
You: No.
Foiled again!
This kind of catastrophe must happen two or three times per decade, causing suffering to all.
But there's a new response designed to remove any ambiguity from the exchange, and to ensure the unchaired are chaired, and the smugneed is smugsatisfied.
Two simple words:
Go ahead.
Do you see? The simplicity? The genius?
Let's re-run those scenarios, but this time we will employ the new weapon in our arsenal.
Other Person: Excuse me, is this seat taken?
You: Go ahead.
Success! Though it doesn't strictly make sense, the intention is clear: "please do take this chair for your buttocks, Madam."
What about the other one?
Other Person: Excuse me, can I have this seat?
You: Go ahead.
Perfect! The game is won!
Can you see how Paul's Patented All-Purpose Chair-Request Response has saved the day? Can you?
The only danger is if a stranger comes and asks you a different question:
Other Person: Excuse me. I was thinking of committing a terrible shooting in a school for blind orphans and then turning the gun on myself. You two look like you're well informed on these matters (especially you, Admiral). Do you think I should proceed with my heinous plan?
You: Go ahead.
But that is an extremely uncommon question. It will probably not happen, so don't worry about it.
***
So that's my social tip. Use it wisely. I feel like I'm going to save a lot of people a lot of asking-for-a-seat based anxiety.
Which means I'm exponentially smug.
You can probably sense it from where you are now - pulsing and shimmering, swelling and sweeping like the Northern Lights.
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