Humor of the Day: Conjoined at the Wrist

Though this Humor of the Day incident occurred a week ago, I wanted to be sure to post about it because it not only made me smile, but it made me laugh out loud - a lot.

Lauren and I were planning "Prom Dress Shopping Take 2" and had decided that we would make a quick trip to a local dress shop. As I was getting ready for the shopping excursion, I put on my usual "bronze" color watch. At some point, while I continued to get dressed, I put on a sweater with a silver zipper. In my mind, that meant that my earrings should also be silver. And hence, I should also wear my silver watch. Clearly, I had seen one too many episodes of "What Not to Wear."

So, I placed my silver watch on my wrist.

Because the local dress shop closed at 5 and because I also knew that prom dress shopping is always an ordeal that lasts several hours, I was conscious of how much time we had for actual shopping. As we were driving to the dress shop, I glanced at my wrist to see the time. And that's when the Humor of the Day incident occurred.

Unbeknowst to me, when I put on my silver watch, I never took off the bronze watch. And so there, on my wrist, were my two watches co-habitating.

After laughing and convincing myself that I really wasn't going crazy, I took my "conjoined watches" as a sign that "Prom Dress Shopping Take 2" would take twice as long, be twice as much fun and end up costing me twice as much money...lol

Humor of the Day: The Wicked Witch of the West Goes South

This past Saturday, I didn't have to look too far to find humor. First, Dr. Redneck provided me with a huge laugh as he prepared himself for our upcoming 20 mile bike.

And then, while on our ride, it was the Wicked Witch of the West herself who added to the amusement.

This past Saturday marked the Maiden Voyage of my new bicycle. Armed with "real" padded bicycle pants (as opposed to Dr. Redneck's idea of stuffing a pillow in my regular pants), I took to the Harlem Rail Trial for my first 20 mile ride.

Accompanied by my training partner, Laura; my self-appointed cycling coach, Ed and Laura's good-natured husband Alan, we set out on our adventure. Laura, who is quickly following in her husband's footsteps and developing a fascination for electronic devices, had her Garmin GPS watch, which would track our mileage.

As we unloaded our bikes at the rail trail and were getting ready for our big adventure, I made an interesting observation: I, the shortest person of the group by about a foot, had one of the largest bicycles. As we would say in the Crawford household, "I had the bike that ate Canterberry Court (our street)." In layman's terms, that's another way of saying "my bike was HUGE."

Another interesting tidbit to note was that when the bike was "fitted" to me, it was configured so that my feet do not touch the ground at all if I am sitting on the seat. As it was explained to me, I am supposed to apply the brakes and then gracefully slide off the seat when I come to a stop. My feet will meet the ground at some point. It all sounded good in theory when the "bike guy" explained this to me.

Once at the rail trail, we all geared up --"Should I wear a hat?" "Should I wear gloves? "Are long pants better than the capri length riding pants?" And, when Ed had securely attached his rubber bands to the bottom of his jeans, it was time to start our expedition.

When our bike posse made it one way to the end of the rail trial, we discovered that we ran out of trail. Instead of stopping to eat lunch (which, in retrospect, would have been a much better idea), Ed, Laura and I turned around and started heading back.

At this point in our journey, Laura and I were riding side-by-side and my coach was behind me (analyzing my riding form, no doubt). As Laura and I chatted about god-knows-what, we came upon a patch of ice/snow. Laura went to the left of the patch and I went to the right. Or, as Ed says, "You headed straight for the ice patch - purposely."

At that moment in time, it was a moot point as to which direction I planned to head: left, right or center. It made no difference at all because seemingly, my bike was on autopilot and on a course of its own. A crash course.

As my front tire started to swerve left, right and every which way in between, I fought to maintain control. But, the only real control I had at that point was to cover my eyes and try to protect them from the bushes that would soon be my landing pad. And then, I auto-ejected from my bike. Or, a more accurate description may be that my bike auto-ejected from me.

When I made landfall in the snow bank, I did what I usually do after a fall: I started to laugh. And cry. And then, some combination of the two. But, when I felt the intense pain in my left leg, panic set in and four vivid thoughts went through my head:

1. Your running days are over; you'll never get that medal for the 70+ age group.
2. Your biking days are over before they even began.
3. You will be returning to work on Monday morning in a full body cast - or better yet- you won't have to go to work on Monday.
4. "OH MY GOD - MY NEW BIKE IS RUINED".

Five days post auto-ejection, I have yet to be able to run without pain, have not tried biking and did return to work, though not in a full body cast.

And as for my bike, it survived its Maiden Voyage with a few nics and scratches, but is no worse for wear. My legs, however, are another story.

Clearly, any fantasies I may have had of ever being a "leg model" are gone. They, too, went South with the Wicked Witch of the West....lol

Humor of the Day: You Might Be Dr. Redneck If...

you attach a plastic, purple cup from your alma mater (Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute) to your bike with duct tape. And then, to complete the image, you insert a bottle of water into the plastic, purple cup.

As if that isn't bad enough, you then use rubber bands to secure the bottom of your jeans so they don't flap in the wind and get caught in the bicycle chain. Although the actual photo is pending, you get the general idea:

Thanks to Dr. Crawford for supplying this HUGE laugh of the day on Saturday. Perhaps a trip to Dick's Sporting Goods is in order so Ed can buy a real water bottle and real biking pants??? ...lol

Humor of the Day: Witch One Is It?

Tonight, I suffered my worst fear: I realized that I am the victim of mistaken identity.

I am not Mary Poppins. I am actually the Wicked Witch of the West (on more levels than one).

All this time, I thought that Mary Poppins was the woman who sat with perfect posture when she rode her bike. But, while looking for a photo to go with this blog piece, I realized that I was mistaken.

For many years, I have been ranting and raving about my bicycle and how much I detest it. So, I finally took the plunge and bought a new Trek bike in preparation for my 40 mile Bike NY tour.

When I came home from buying the bike, I excitedly showed Lauren an online picture of the bike. She replied "Oh My God, Mom ...you are going to look like Mary Poppins."

After looking at the photo, I feared that Lauren may be correct. Evidently, the new design in womens bikes is to remove "the bar" that most women hate anyway. And, the low-style, racing handle bars that were popular years ago, have been replaced with "sit-up-straight" handle bars.
With this new design, you can't help but ride with perfect posture.

Tonight, I went for my final bike "fitting" where each and every feature of the bike was fine-tuned to satisfy my "finickiness". I put my prized possession in the car and as we got closer to home, I texted Lauren that "Mary Poppins" estimated time of arrival was 10 minutes." Lauren met me outside, examined my new bike and proclaimed that I was not Mary Poppins afterall. But, my feeling of relief was short-lived.

Instead, I bore a striking resemblance to the Wicked Witch of the West.

And now, thanks to Lauren, I find myself grappling with an identity crisis.

"Witch one is it, Lauren?" ... lol

Humor of the Day: Fence Post

Who would think that a very short conversation about a fence could make me laugh and become my Humor of the Day post?

The other day, Ed and I were driving past our local rail trail and he said that he noticed they are putting up a fence on the "newer" portion of the trail.

He said it was the kind of fence that his parents had at their house. Yet, he could not think of the name for that type of fence.

I asked if it was a picket fence? "No." Was it a "privacy" fence? "No." A chain-link fence? "No." A wrought iron fence? "No."

As far as I knew, I had exhausted my knowledge of fences.

But Ed remained baffled; he could not think of the name for the that type of fence. So, I badgered with him a few more questions and then he added a critical detail "it was the same type of fence that surrounded his backyard when he was growing up."

"Ohhhh.....an electric fence!" I exclaimed.

As funny as I found that image, evidently, the million dollar answer was "split rail fence." Definitely more practical than an electric fence, but clearly less amusing....lol

Humor of the Day: Snow Fall

Though I started this post last week, I've decided to "publish" it as opposed to having it sit in my blog archives.

It's been a rather humorless few days lately and though I've tried to look around and find something that made me laugh or smile, I've come up short. Maybe I need to call my mom again :-)

But, earlier today, I finally did "stumble" across something that brought a smile to my face: I was reading the Cornell Sun online (the daily newspaper at Cornell) and I read about the large amount of snow that Cornell received the other night. That in and of itself is hardly humorous, but what made me laugh where the two students who were interviewed about the snowfall. They both lamented on the fact that they saw very few students "wipe-out" or fall in the snow.

And, that disappointed them. It would have disappointed me, too.

It made me laugh to know that I am not the only person who, in a warped way, enjoys seeing people fall. No, no...it's not that I am hoping to see anyone get hurt; it's just that because falling is one of the most spontaneous things that can happen, it is funny (often hysterical) on a "physical" level. But, what I find even funnier than the actual fall, is the reaction of the faller and/or those who witnessed the fall. It's often priceless.

As a veteran of many falls (broken bones and all), I still laugh when I think back to some of my finer moments. There's the time I stumbled down the steps in our house, landed in a big heap at the bottom, called for Ed and ended up sitting there alone laughing. Evidently, the rest of the family, who was so engrossed in playing "Zelda" in the bonus room never even heard my plea for help. Lauren later said "she thought she heard a loud "thump" but wasn't really sure. Yes Lauren, that thump was me.

Or, there was my infamous fall in Washington, DC as we darted past the Lincoln Memorial to catch our site-seeing trolley. Fortunately, it was a night tour and no one other than my kids (and Mr. Lincoln) witnessed the tumble. All I remember is hearing Philip say to Lauren "I think Mom fell, but just keep running." After getting up and brushing myself off, I walked on to the trolley as though my land-dive had never occurred. And, I proceeded to laugh about my fall the rest of the tour. I'm sure the other tour patrons wondered what could possibly be so hysterical about the Viet Nam memorial.

But, my Grand Champion of falls occurred when I, too, was in college. And, I think that's why I found the quotes in the Cornell Sun so amusing.

As a grad student at RPI, I was rushing to class one day in the middle of winter. No sooner was I smack, dead center in front of the main entrance to the Student Union - the busiest place on campus - when I slipped on some ice and wiped-out. I landed on my back, laid there dazed for a moment until I heard a male voice say "RPI was founded in 1824 by Stephen Van Rensselaer..."

As I looked to my right, I saw the student tour guide, walking slowly backwards (as all college tour guides do), and the mass of people on his tour were starting to move closer to my spot of impact. At that moment, not even a broken vertebrate in my back could have prevented me from leaping up off the ground. Yet, before continuing on my way, I first did the obligatory "pavement scan," which most fallers do after rising from a wipe-out. This, of course, is to give the perception that there must be something wrong with the ground and that's what caused the fall.

And while I don't remember ever seeing an article in the RPI newspaper about students wiping-out in the snow, I can only hope that my plunge does not remain as vivid of a memory for anyone who witnessed it that day as it does for me.

Yet, if it does, it pleases me to know that I did not disappoint: there's nothing better than witnessing a good Snow Fall....lol

Humor of the Day: No Dummies Allowed

Today I came home from work and told Ed that I was going to buy a reference book for Word 2010. My new work laptop has this latest version of Word on it and while I know Word fairly well, I am having a bit of trouble finding options easily, etc. I did a brief amount of research and discovered that the "Word 2010 for Dummies" book was rated quite well. It seemed like a no-brainer to me that I would buy this book and keep it for quick reference.

When I told Ed my plan, his reaction baffled me, but it also made me laugh. He thought it was a horrendous idea for me to buy a "Dummy" book. It would tarnish my image at work as the documentation "expert."

Huh?

He proceeded to tell me that if co-workers saw me referencing a Dummy book, they would think I didn't know anything at all. I laughed and said that was ridiculous and on the contrary, having a "Dummy" book would just emphasize the confidence I have in my skills. I didn't have to worry about "appearances" or "perceptions". We debated the issue for a few minutes and Ed assured me that he would help find me a "professional" Word book. I told him I had absolutely no interest in buying the Albert Einstein Word reference guide, with insider tips/tricks for developers to code macros, plug-ins, blah blah.

But, because I was still baffled by Ed's reaction, I decided to get an objective opinion from Philip. I knew that Philip would agree with me and say "if the Dummy book works for you, go for it." I sent him a text and told Ed that Philip's response would be the deciding factor in my decision.

The verdict read as follows:

Dummy Book: 1 vote
Professional Book: 2 votes

And so now, I am the proud owner of "Word 2010 In Depth." Not only is the name impressive, but the book looks professional and sleek. A geek's treasure.

After buying the book and thinking about it, I've decided that "maybe" there is some merit in what Ed/Philip said. I came to this conclusion when I envisioned myself walking into the office of the Chief Medical Officer and seeing the book "Medicine for Dummies" on her desk. Hmmmm......

Evidently, work is not a place for Dummies.....lol

Humor of the Day: None...Black Tuesday...RIP Rob

Earlier today, I was struggling with an idea to blog about. Unfortunately, the past few days have been rather humorless. Yet, around mid-day I did find something that brought a smile to my face and at lunch, I started a new post. I figured I would complete it tonight. Wrong.

I just received a call from a former Verizon co-worker and she informed me that one of our fellow co-workers was murdered Monday morning. He was shot in the head and his house was then burned-down. I'm in shock.

Rob was one of the most laid-back, left-over hippie types, who opposed all things violent. For him to face such a violent death is ironic. And, so very sad.

Rob was also an avid runner and would go for daily runs with our boss Zvi and fellow buddy Mehrdad. One of my most vivid memories of Rob was a discussion we were having about running. Mehrdad was telling me that running "2 miles on the treadmill" was barely worth it - hardly a workout. Rob piped in and said "That's ridiculous...any run you do on the treadmill is worth it. Go for it."

I'll always remember Rob's encouraging words.

Humor of the Day: Spell It for Me

I already know there is no way that this post can possibly due justice to the conversation I just had with my mother. This conversation did not make me smile nor did it make me laugh.
It made me HOWL in hysterics. In fact, my laughing caused such a commotion that Lauren came downstairs to see what was going on (was there a mouse downstairs?) and Ed, in typical Ed fashion, put his earplugs in so he could tune me out and watch whatever it was he was watching on the computer.

As part of the weekly conversation with my mom, I mentioned that the Senior Prom drama with Lauren had begun: we had started shopping, the kids were picking limos and party buses. And already, there was lots of drama.

"What kind of drama can there be with a prom?" she wanted to know. I explained that Lauren's friends had gotten a party bus ("Are you sure that is safe?"), there were kids on the waiting list ("How much does each kid pay for this bus?") and that Lauren thought her party bus was filled with a lot of "boring" kids ("What kind of kids?")

Again, I repeated "BORING kids" to which she replied "I'm still not understanding you."

BORING kids-- you know - kids that aren't as fun as other kids.

"I can't catch what you are saying. I told you I have been having trouble hearing lately."

BORING...BORING...when someone isn't fun...BORING.

"Can you spell it for me?"

Of course, at this point, I am starting to laugh louder and each time I tried to spell the word boring, I got no further than the "b-o" and would then convulse into laughter.

"I am still not getting what you are spelling...keep spelling it"

"B-O-R"......and again, I would begin to gasp for air as I tried to continue spelling.

After about the 3rd attempt, my mom said "Oh, BLIND kids...her party bus is full of BLIND kids?"

"WHHHHHAATTTTT? Where did you get that? I did not say blind. Why would Lauren's bus be filled with blind kids?" Her friends are not Helen Keller and she does not attend a school for the visually impaired."

Next week, I think I'll try a Skype session with my mom and revert to sign language....it can only improve our communication .... lol

Humor of the Day: OCD...Only Certain Digits

I remember the day I diagnosed myself with OCD. I laughed about it that day and yesterday, my OCD brought yet another smile to my face.

My self diagnosis of OCD occurred one evening when I went to the Danbury mall with my friend Lisa and our kids (Lauren and Madison). Because Lisa thinks I am an irresponsible driver, she usually drives on our outings. On this particular night, Lisa stopped for gas, filled up the gas tank, got back in the car and drove away.

No sooner had she pulled out of the gas station and I said to her "why did you do that?" She replied "What?" I said "you bought $32.23 worth of gas." And her reply to that was "Yea..and?"

I was beyond horrified; I could not imagine why she didn't slowly pump the gas until the dollar amount read "32.25 --or optimally $32.50." As I told Lisa that night, I found it so "disturbing" that she would just leave the dollar amount on an odd number. Lisa, in turn, found my OCD tendencies equally odd - but laughable.

Yesterday, I was at All Sport (a place the seems to be a haven for humorous moments) and I was running on a treadmill next to another woman. At the end of her workout, I glanced at her treadmill and her vital stats were:

Time elapsed: 26:42
Miles: 1.91
Calories: 343

As she got off the treadmill, I wanted to say to her "NO, NO..COME BACK...YOU CAN'T LEAVE THE TREADMILL WITH THOSE NUMBERS ON IT." Was she crazy? At the very least, she needed to come back and round the mileage up to an even 2.0. I found myself staring at her numbers and thinking "how could she do that?" and then I laughed. Because I realized that she was not crazy at all; I was the crazy one. I was the one afflicted with OCD of the "Only Certain Digits" variety.

Evidently, I have a very complex set of internal rules about what numbers may/may not be left on the treadmill display (or gas tank). I tried explaining my rules to Lauren last night and it went something like this:

• Any number without trailing digits is good ($32.00, 2.0 miles)
• Any even or odd number followed by a digit that ends in "5" or "0" is good ($32.25, 3.30 miles)
• Any 2 or 3 digit number whose last digit is "5" or "0" is perfect (345 calories, 360 calories)

These are all number combinations that make sense to me or do not disturb me. Sometimes, if I am having a really lucky day, all the right numbers show up, in all the right places, at all the right times.

And that's what I consider a lucky day because there's nothing better than winning the "OCD Jackpot of the day" ....lol

Humor of the Day: Flowers down..towards me..happy on 3

Last night, I received a a very odd phone call, which, after I hung up, made me laugh. When I answered the phone, a woman with a Southern accent asked for Diane. When I told her she was speaking with Diane, she proceeded to tell me that her name was Doneta (?) and she was the photographer from my wedding.

I could not imagine why, after 25 years, the photographer from my wedding was calling me. Had she secretly, years later, entered me in the Bridezilla competition and was calling to say I was a winner?

She continued to say that she believed she had photographed my wedding to Ed Crawford, which took place in High Point, NC. Because I have inherited both my mother's superstitious gene and her suspicious gene, I immediately said "No, I don't think so" because in reality, I had gotten married in Greensboro, NC.

But, because I also inherited my mother's inquisitive gene, I couldn't just let the conversation die. So, I said "Well, if I were the Diane, who married Ed Crawford, in NC....why are you calling?"
She said that she had records indicating I had married Ed Crawford, in 1986, at Temple Beth El.

Knowing that she had the correct information, I 'fessed up and and said "Ok, I think you may have photographed my wedding." Was she now going to tell me that she had proof that the rabbi who performed our service was a fraud and I wasn't really married after all these years?

Interesting theory, but no.....she said that she had closed her photography studio and for $50.00 plus $3.85 tax, I could have the negatives to all my wedding photographs stored in a bank deposit box. If I didn't choose that option, my negatives would be shredded to ensure that "no one else would have access to them." I opted to have the negatives shredded.

This all sounded so strange to me and in retrospect, I really wish I had asked her to repeat the "mantra" that she used over and over and over each time she took my photo that day. If she replied "Flowers down, towards me, happy on 3", then I would have know she was indeed the woman who photographed my wedding!

Also in retrospect, I really wish I had said something along the lines of .... "Well, I am the Diane you are looking for, I did marry Ed Crawford in 1986, but I am now on husband #3...so shred those photos"....lol

Humor of the Day: Oy Vey and Evil Eyes

Yesterday was a fairly humourless day; there wasn't anything notable that made me laugh or smile. Hence, I am relying on a conversation I had with my mother a few days ago that definitely made me laugh (the truth is, most of my conversations with my mother make me laugh for one reason or another).

I had called my mom and was telling her about my friend Irene's father and that he died. I then proceeded to tell her about my friend Lisa's mom who has Alzheimer's and was going to be placed in a nursing home. No sooner had I relayed that information, when I somehow managed to mention that Lisa's son Ty (10 yrs old) has a best friend with cancer.

At that point, my mother stopped me and said "Oy Vey...you are full of good news today." Then, she said "wait, let me find my evil eye." I said "your WHAT?" She said "My evil eye...the one I bought in Greece. The Greeks believe that if you wear it, it will ward off any evil spirits...hold on."

So there I sat, on a long distance call, my allocated monthly minutes ticking away, while my mom hunted for her evil eye. Fortunately, she didn't have to hunt hard and long for her evil eye, because it was on top of her TV (where all good Greeks probably keep their evil eyes).

She then said "one second...I am pinning it on me. Ok, now I'm safe....what were you saying about Ty's friend?"

And my kids wonder why I am so superstitious????.....lol