Random Anecdote.

Here's something quick to tide over my silence.

So tonight, after dinner, I take my dishes to the sink. The phone rings and after two rings, I pick up.

"Hello?" I say into the receiver. Silence.

Then, a fog horn toots. I look at the phone in confusion - is this some new dial tone that I don't know of? Nope!

"Hello, this is your captain speaking!" says a nancy-sounding fellow on the other side, who's probably hopped up on Prozac. I start thinking that the expression on my face must be priceless now. The fog horn blasts in the background again, as he continues speaking. "You could win two all-exclusive cruise tickets to the Bahamas if you answer these easy 10 questions -"

"Not with you as the captain, creepo," I say scathingly into the telephone, then I hang up.

That might have been the creepiest automated call I've ever gotten in my life.

Boredom.

I'm going to write this down before I forget it and it is lost in my mind forever, a floating memory associated no tags with which I can access it.

One day I was at my friend's house with her boyfriend. (Totally felt like a third wheel - but whatever.) Now, her boyfriend liked tussling and fighting with me because I am pretty much like a dude to him. Of course, it wasn't like pro-wrestling, more like spraying his girlfriend's perfume into each other's eyes.

Anyway after a long fight of perfume spraying, which I admittedly lost, I decided to exact sweet, sweet revenge. After painting my own nails a bizarre variety of colours from my friend's extensive nail polish collection, I took a pink bottle and smiled wickedly.

Turning to her boyfriend, I said, "You know, I really respect guys who are so sure of their masculinity that they can paint their nails and not be bothered by it." Then I held up the bottle and let his puny male mind make the connection.

"Fine," he said, after a few moments of what must have been intense thinking for him. "But you can only paint the pinky." Snickering, I agreed.

So in the end I painted his finger nail pink. And he didn't notice until we left her house and all chances of him taking it off via the nail polish remover (without totally embarrassing himself in front of his mom) were extinguished. He was all like "OH SHITE! I forgot to take the nail paint off!"

Secretly, I think he forgot on purpose. All boys are secretly infatuated with trying nail polish and/or lingerie and stilletto heels on. Don't even try to deny. But seriously, I totally respect the ones who can do it with pride. You know who you are. ;)