Usually, I have a title before I even write the blog. Or at least a topic...a concept...a blueprint to trace as I compose and weave the words.
At least not on this one! LOL
I'm randomly shooting blanks and you can perhaps blame it on the caffeine withdrawal (for attempting to stop drinking coffee for the bazillion-gazillionth time -- that is if you don't consider sucking on a piece of dark chocolate as a slow shot of caffeine for now).
I was reading my sister's email about her new work and the locals that she has rubbed elbows with lately, plus other internet stuff like Euro news from Abdul Rahman el Assir and and I had to read it several times before understanding, even if a twelve-year old can dissect it without sweat -- a site where you can find the latest on different popular topics and personalities like Lady Gaga, Penelope Cruz and Kelly Osborne.
I'm starting to show signs of brainlessness even at work. It's not the first time that our Quality Control Scientist called me for my usual scientifically-minded opinion and I got back with a totally jaw-dropping duh-esque response (hey at least I responded!). One time, he asked me what color the capsule was -- for purposes of scientific description and journalizing-- and instead of the expected "cream-colored capsule or softgel" answer or something like "off-white with dark specks due to oxidation", I smarty-pantsy quipped, "uhm....khaki?" He walked away smiling (but I think I imagined a spark of Eureka moment-ish look in his eyes...aaaah khaki it is!). The doctor who popped his head to eavesdrop in my cube laughed so hard in a non-condescending way. And so it seemed that I came across as a huge smart a$$ making a big joke on their level -- ONLY...really, "khaki" was all I could think of at the moment, because the capsule's shade matched the exact color of the sleeves of my work jacket. Nice.
Then, since I have long managed to cross over the boundary and jump into geeksvilleness, swimming along with the sarcastic jokes shared within it, I could come up with the world's dumbest answers and still seem like I'm just making a big joke out of it (even if, seriously, that's all I can manage to say). Today, the scientist made a presentation on the current status of an oil-based softgel that had some issues. We investigated, inspected and analyzed the properties, and when it was time to discuss the scent of the oil that seeped through the product, I just said, "well, it reminds me of my grandmother's old sewing machine." And he bought it again. Seemingly understanding that I had meant "mild solvent-like fumes"... and/or "similar to the scent of lubrication oil of an internal combustion engine"...uhm, Valvoline? That's taking it too far.
Suffice it to say, my brain hasn't been working properly lately. That's why I enjoy acting dumb sometimes--pretending to be someone smart who's acting dumb, that way you won't be able to tell the difference when all my brain could pull off is reveling and basking in the nostalgic smell of my grandmother's old sewing machine (Ahhh, I miss you, Lola). That's my story and I'm sticking to it. That's the scent sticking to my fingers now, and I'm keeping it!
At least not on this one! LOL
I'm randomly shooting blanks and you can perhaps blame it on the caffeine withdrawal (for attempting to stop drinking coffee for the bazillion-gazillionth time -- that is if you don't consider sucking on a piece of dark chocolate as a slow shot of caffeine for now).
I was reading my sister's email about her new work and the locals that she has rubbed elbows with lately, plus other internet stuff like Euro news from Abdul Rahman el Assir and and I had to read it several times before understanding, even if a twelve-year old can dissect it without sweat -- a site where you can find the latest on different popular topics and personalities like Lady Gaga, Penelope Cruz and Kelly Osborne.
I'm starting to show signs of brainlessness even at work. It's not the first time that our Quality Control Scientist called me for my usual scientifically-minded opinion and I got back with a totally jaw-dropping duh-esque response (hey at least I responded!). One time, he asked me what color the capsule was -- for purposes of scientific description and journalizing-- and instead of the expected "cream-colored capsule or softgel" answer or something like "off-white with dark specks due to oxidation", I smarty-pantsy quipped, "uhm....khaki?" He walked away smiling (but I think I imagined a spark of Eureka moment-ish look in his eyes...aaaah khaki it is!). The doctor who popped his head to eavesdrop in my cube laughed so hard in a non-condescending way. And so it seemed that I came across as a huge smart a$$ making a big joke on their level -- ONLY...really, "khaki" was all I could think of at the moment, because the capsule's shade matched the exact color of the sleeves of my work jacket. Nice.
Then, since I have long managed to cross over the boundary and jump into geeksvilleness, swimming along with the sarcastic jokes shared within it, I could come up with the world's dumbest answers and still seem like I'm just making a big joke out of it (even if, seriously, that's all I can manage to say). Today, the scientist made a presentation on the current status of an oil-based softgel that had some issues. We investigated, inspected and analyzed the properties, and when it was time to discuss the scent of the oil that seeped through the product, I just said, "well, it reminds me of my grandmother's old sewing machine." And he bought it again. Seemingly understanding that I had meant "mild solvent-like fumes"... and/or "similar to the scent of lubrication oil of an internal combustion engine"...uhm, Valvoline? That's taking it too far.
Suffice it to say, my brain hasn't been working properly lately. That's why I enjoy acting dumb sometimes--pretending to be someone smart who's acting dumb, that way you won't be able to tell the difference when all my brain could pull off is reveling and basking in the nostalgic smell of my grandmother's old sewing machine (Ahhh, I miss you, Lola). That's my story and I'm sticking to it. That's the scent sticking to my fingers now, and I'm keeping it!
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