How to Learn About Other People's Obscure Interests
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The guy in Amsterdam: Not Just Bikes.
How to Find a Job that Suits Your Interests
I hate running. I use a rowing machine several times a week, and used to use an elliptical. Way back in the mists of time I put quite a few miles on a stair stepper, but put me on a treadmill and I tap out after 5 minutes.
I think it’s because all of the machines I do use have a certain element of being like a ride. On an elliptical you’re up in the air, swinging around. On a rowing machine you’re sliding back and forth. On a treadmill there’s no disguising that you’re working hard to literally go nowhere.
I did take up jogging once, way back when I lived in farm country. Nothing puts you off a sport like limping back home after rolling your ankle while having the asparagus crews openly mock you.
Note from Missy: Rick-shaw. Heh.
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How to Purchase a Flashlight
I worked at the Tower of Terror at Walt Disney World, which was a surprisingly flashlight-intensive job. We were supplied flashlights, but many of us bought our own because the communal flashlights got broken or stolen often. It struck me funny that I’d drive to work in the blinding Florida sun, walk from the parking lot through a spotlessly clean, sun-drenched theme park, then spend eight hours in a simulation of a dark, dilapidated hotel on a rainy evening.
Still, it’s better than working at Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster, the ride next door, which is a simulation of a parking garage and the alley behind said parking garage.
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How to Purchase a Flashlight
I worked at the Tower of Terror at Walt Disney World, which was a surprisingly flashlight-intensive job. We were supplied flashlights, but many of us bought our own because the communal flashlights got broken or stolen often. It struck me funny that I’d drive to work in the blinding Florida sun, walk from the parking lot through a spotlessly clean, sun-drenched theme park, then spend eight hours in a simulation of a dark, dilapidated hotel on a rainy evening.
Still, it’s better than working at Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster, the ride next door, which is a simulation of a parking garage and the alley behind said parking garage.
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How to Discuss a Television Show with Someone Who Hasn't Seen It Recently
I LOVED Lost. I saw the pilot and immediately wanted answers to the questions it brought up. As I say in this comic, for every question the show answered it brought up at least two more, and the mysteries and solutions grew stranger and stranger over time until you had people coming back from the dead and big wooden wheels that, when turned, made the whole island teleport. Eventually I was watching to get the answer to the essential meta-mystery of the show, “How will they explain all of this?”
Spoiler alert, the answer was, “Unsatisfyingly.”
Note from Missy: That first panel about Voyager just made me LOL. So lame, so true.
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How to Discuss a Television Show with Someone Who Hasn't Seen It Recently
I LOVED Lost. I saw the pilot and immediately wanted answers to the questions it brought up. As I say in this comic, for every question the show answered it brought up at least two more, and the mysteries and solutions grew stranger and stranger over time until you had people coming back from the dead and big wooden wheels that, when turned, made the whole island teleport. Eventually I was watching to get the answer to the essential meta-mystery of the show, “How will they explain all of this?”
Spoiler alert, the answer was, “Unsatisfyingly.”
Note from Missy: That first panel about Voyager just made me LOL. So lame, so true.
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How to Complain About Work
I once had a friend declare, loudly, “What do I want with dignity! What good does dignity do me? Dignity doesn’t pay my rent.” I wasn’t sure at the time whether he was trying to convince me that dignity wasn’t worth the effort to maintain, or himself.
Later I decided that it was a bad thing either way.
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How to Complain About Work
I once had a friend declare, loudly, “What do I want with dignity! What good does dignity do me? Dignity doesn’t pay my rent.” I wasn’t sure at the time whether he was trying to convince me that dignity wasn’t worth the effort to maintain, or himself.
Later I decided that it was a bad thing either way.
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How to Say "No" When Asked for an Unreasonable Favor
I’d much rather stay in a hotel than sleep on someone’s spare couch or floor. Maybe I’m weird.
Actually, maybe I kinda suspect that I am weird, and that’s why I prefer the anonymity of a hotel over staying with people I know. One doesn’t like to discover, as a full grown adult, that their bathroom etiquette is not up to scratch.
Really, it’s mostly that I don’t like to impose on people, and if I do impose, I like the idea that I’ll live it down and put it behind me the instant I check out, as opposed to having a friend or relative bring it up at some random point in the future.
Note from Missy: If it’s weird, then call me a weirdo. I’ve stayed in people’s houses only a couple of times in my adult life, and it’s so anxiety-producing. That feeling that you need to be doing something or entertaining each other 24/7. I’d rather have a hotel room where I can just go and be away from people. (Though Scott would be there, but when you’ve been married for 20 years, you kind of don’t count as “people” anymore to each other, if you know what I mean.) I probably also feel like a weirdo on this point because we watch a lot of House Hunters, where everyone wants a spare room for out-of-town guests.
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How to Say "No" When Asked for an Unreasonable Favor
I’d much rather stay in a hotel than sleep on someone’s spare couch or floor. Maybe I’m weird.
Actually, maybe I kinda suspect that I am weird, and that’s why I prefer the anonymity of a hotel over staying with people I know. One doesn’t like to discover, as a full grown adult, that their bathroom etiquette is not up to scratch.
Really, it’s mostly that I don’t like to impose on people, and if I do impose, I like the idea that I’ll live it down and put it behind me the instant I check out, as opposed to having a friend or relative bring it up at some random point in the future.
Note from Missy: If it’s weird, then call me a weirdo. I’ve stayed in people’s houses only a couple of times in my adult life, and it’s so anxiety-producing. That feeling that you need to be doing something or entertaining each other 24/7. I’d rather have a hotel room where I can just go and be away from people. (Though Scott would be there, but when you’ve been married for 20 years, you kind of don’t count as “people” anymore to each other, if you know what I mean.) I probably also feel like a weirdo on this point because we watch a lot of House Hunters, where everyone wants a spare room for out-of-town guests.
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As always, thanks for using my Amazon Affiliate links (US, UK, Canada).