I’ll admit it, I take cute notes.?? I often write prepositions in Latin because they’re shorter than the English words; sometimes I write in French or Spanish or Catalan or even Italian or German if that’s the word that comes to me first, or if the word is much shorter in one of those languages.?? Sometimes I translate things into other languages just for fun – it’s one of my little ways of keeping up my proficiency.?? I often translate songs or catchy phrases, usually in my head.?? But sometimes, when I’m taking notes JUST FOR MYSELF,?? I do it in writing.?? My notes, my perogative, right?
??So yesterday at this Excel training seminar, I was sitting next to a woman whom I seriously wanted to smack in the face, bitchslap-style, at least four times during the course of the day.?? She kept trying to talk to me DURING the instructor’s presentation, and I gotta say, sounds corny, but I was there to learn.?? Anywho.?? So Annoying Lady To My Right first asked me “What’s that you’re drinking?” And granted, I was drinking something quirky, but again – MY NALGENE, MY BUSINESS, am I right??? Anywho so I tell her it’s juice mixed with water, which it was.?? And (play-dialogue style just to make it easier for me, punctuation-wise) it goes like this:
??ME (whispered, trying to pay attention to the PRESENTATION):?? No, it’s not cranberry – it’s another type of berry.
HER (NOT whispering quietly ENOUGH):?? What kind of berry???
HER: What? A-what?
ME (writing it down): ARONIA. (Underline in my notes for effect).
HER: Where’s that from? (I think she meant, where are those grown natively)
ME: Trader Joe’s.
HER: Oh… (clearly disappointed that I didn’t tell her all about Brazilian frost effects on local Aronia crops or whatever the fuck she might have been hoping for).
Seriously, I was trying to LEARN to NOT SUCK at Excel and she just kept yapping like a chihuaua, that has been trained to whisper and wear an unfortunately lovely gray sweater (I hate it when annoying people have immaculately stellar taste – it feels so WRONG). So anyway, later on after the lunch break, a bunch of people have busted out afternoon snacks of chips, soda, whatevs.?? I’m TRYING to be all healthy-like, mostly to make up for days like the one I recently blathered about when I ate ice cream for breakfast, ya know??? So I bust out one of those little organic-baby-carrots-and-ranch-dip and start snacking.?? The dialogue recommences:
??HER:?? Ooh, where’d you get THAT!? (I think she meant, from which eatery within walking distance of this seminar)
ME:?????? Trader Joe’s. (Munch, munch, ignore)
HER:?? Oh, so is that your place for everything?
ME:?? No, just some things.?? Like juice and carrots.
OH MY GOD I WANTED TO SCREAM.?? And THEN, later on, we’re all taking notes and cool smart only mildly cheesy/campy Excel instructor kept reminding and testing us about the?? “Control + Home” nifty shortcut that brings you back to the beginning of your worksheet, Row 1 Column A – good times!?? She’s like, if you ever get confused, remember this shortcut will BRING YOU HOME!?? So me, being the campy cheesy dork that I myself am, I write “Ctrl+Home=Ruby Slippers” in my notes.?? Well, Lady To My Right Whom By Now I Wanted To Openly Throttle sees this in my notes and CRACKS up, LOUDLY.?? She nudges me in the ribs, HARDER THAN APPROPRIATE, and is like CHORTLING while people are trying to LISTEN to the seminar – ugh.?? MY NOTES – MY CUTE WIZARD-OF-OZ-RELATED SHORTHAND.?? Am I right??? I dunno, she drove me nuts.?? I wanted to frickin Control Home on outta that seat.?? Escape!?? Escape!?? Ctrl+Alt+Delete!?? ABORT!
??Man… some people.?? May a house fall on her sister.