Comedy of Errors
Have you ever been involved in a comedy of errors? Like the Shakespeare play (https://shakespeare.mit.edu/comedy_errors/full.html) that coined the phrase, my own comedy of errors involved a mistaken identity (however, unlike the play, it didn’t feature two sets of identical twins in Ancient Greece). Instead—and arguably more absurdly—it took place in a retirement home. I was visiting an elderly friend of the family for a few days and had decided to take advantage of the exercise facilities located in the community (https://thiestalle.com) . It was a holiday weekend with a number of families visiting, and to celebrate my day off work, I had just undergone my bi-monthly routine of trimming and thinning out my already short hair so that it was cropped very close to my head. I was enjoying this freshly-cut-hair feel as I headed down to the exercise room, wearing athletic shorts and an old t-shirt that hung loosely on my petite frame. The only other person in the exercise room was an elderly lady leisurely using the recumbent cycle—one of those bicycles that you pedal a laid-back, reclining position. After a swift, but intense, mental battle over whether to go for the treadmill or the exercise bike, I headed towards the latter (it won over the treadmill by a narrow margin of less effort required). I started pedalling, and moments in I heard her saying somewhat imperiously, “Excuse me, young man” The “young man” did not reply, and her tone became more insistent. “Young man…young man…excuse me, young man, I am talking to you!” I smiled to myself, wondering what this “young man” had done to earn her displeasure. It took me a further ten seconds of this scolding to realise, “Oh my gosh…she’s talking to me!” I slowed to a stop, and turned towards her. From across the room, still leisurely reclining and peddling away, she addressed me: “Young man, you should know that only persons of eighteen years of age or older may use these exercise machines.” She pointed to a sign next…
Crash Diet
There's no excuse this year, I know, what with our strangely balmy winter and beautiful, blue-skied spring; as a matter of fact, an argument could be made that this year, Mother Nature was all but screaming at me: “Stop digging through the cream cheese with your fingers! You have to put some shorts on soon!" Did I listen? Of course not. I have only myself to blame. I don’t listen to my actual mother nearly enough, why would I listen to a woman who got fooled into thinking a tub of margarine was butter (ridiculously out-dated pop-culture reference alert!)? Just like every December 23rd I have nary a present purchased, every year Memorial Day lands on me like a giant anvil. A giant anvil made of thigh fat. The magazine headlines in the mailbox (https://thiestalle.com) warned me: "Beach weather is but 10 weeks away!" "Blast your belly fat in time for sundress season!" "The thought of you in a tank top makes Jillian Michaels vomit!" and so forth. I glanced at them in March while I waited for the girl to ring up my ice cream. Ten weeks sounded like such a long time, eight weeks ago. But now, here we are...the dreaded count-down to summer. Which crash diet will I fail at this year? A friend of mine just finished the HCG diet (https://hcgdietinfo.com/) , in which one ingests a hormone women produce during pregnancy and then eat no more than 500 calories a day for a month. My sister is doing a liquid cleanse (https://www.livestrong.com/liquid-cleansing-diet/) ; she has to drink several glasses of a vile-smelling potion that makes her highly flatulent…and eat no more than 500 calories a day. For a month. Is it just me, or does the hormone-taking and vile-drink drinking seem extraneous? Eat less than 500 calories a day and you’re going to lose weight, right? You’ll probably loss your mind, your job, all of your hair and most of your friends, too, but at least you’ll be thin. Years ago, the book "Fit for Life (https://www.amazon.com/Fit-Life-Harvey-Diamond/dp/0446300152) "…
The 4-10-150 Rule
I recently learned about this intriguing thing called the 4-10-150 rule as I was considering how social marketing (https://ezinearticles.com/?id=6359521&The-10-Basic-Rules-of-Social-Media-Marketing=) impacts apartment living (https://www.thiestalle.com) and renting. I know at least a little bit about social marketing, so I was surprised that I hadn’t heard of this phenomenon. I also know a thing or two about rules (and breaking them), so again, I was surprised I hadn’t heard of this one. Or broken it yet. Anyway, it goes like this: at the most basic level, there are four people that you talk to everyday who have a tremendous impact on you. You consult them about everything – from whether or not you should buy a shirt to whether or not you should buy a house, get engaged, quit your job, or make any other major life decision. You might not even pick out navel lint without talking to them first. These four folks are, essentially, your inner circle. In fact, if we’re thinking about this deal as a sort of planets-orbiting-the-sun (https://nineplanets.org/overview.html) kind of thing (with you, naturally, as the sun), then your first four people are where Mercury would be. Gets a little hot there – sometimes they get a little scorched (especially if you are me). But they are intrinsic to how your life unfolds because they’re the ones closest to you. So, you’ve got four Mercuries (Mercurys?). Next, you’ve got ten people that comprise your second circle of friends/relatives/ maniacs. These are people you talk to a lot – but probably not every day – and they also have a tremendous amount of influence over you – though not to as great a degree as your Mercuries (Mercurys). For example, you might go ahead and pick navel lint without consulting them, but you might talk about how it went with them later. I’m guessing that for most people, these ten are comprised of friends and relatives who are also friends (yes, this does exist). So, if you’re the sun and you’ve got four…