How to break up with a potential boyfriend

The Dating Game

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The Potential Boyfriend, or PBF as I’ve been calling him, is taking a job in another city.  Why would he be starting to date someone when he knows he’s looking for work elsewhere?  Well, that’s another post for another blog.  Here’s how it went down:

Potential Boyfriend: I’m taking another job.

Little Blind Girl:  Really?  That’s great!  Isn’t it?  (Thinks:  Really?  That’s great!  Isn’t it?  Wait, he’s not taking a job in the porn industry or something, is he?)

PBF:  It’s a big promotion, supervising a major project.

LBG:  Oh, wow, that’s awesome!  That’s what you’ve been looking for, right?  (Thinks:  Oh, thank God, not porn.)

PBF:  It’s in a different city.

LBG:  Oh.  Oh, okay.  Um, how far away? (Thinks:  It can’t be too far away.  He just moved here, he doesn’t want to move again so quickly.)

PBF:  It’s pretty far away.  I’m going to have to move.

LBG:  Oh.  Man, that sucks.  (Thinks:  Crap.  Crap crap crap.  Why couldn’t it have been porn?  I bet there are loads of local porn jobs.)

PBF:  I know this isn’t fair on you, but I really like you.  I didn’t know if you wanted to maybe try something long distance?

LBG:  Long distance?  Like, talk during the week and see each other on weekends?  (Thinks:  Actually, that sounds really good.  I never feel up to being a good girlfriend after I’ve been working all day.  Could be nice.)

PBF:  Um, actually, it would be more like talk on the phone and see each other maybe once a month.

LBG:  Once a month?  (Thinks:  Sh*t!)

PBF:  Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could swing once a month.

LBG:  You’re pretty sure about maybe once a month?  (Thinks:  I could make it work!  Long distance relationships are totally possible!  We’ve got such a great connection.  It’s all about connecting on an emotional level, right?  I mean, I talk with my friends on the phone all the time and it’s great!  Of course, there are things I want to do with PBF that I don’t want to do with my friends…at least, not most of them…)

PBF:  And we could talk online or on the phone all the time.  I’m not sure what hours I’ll be working, probably pretty crazy at first, but you keep your phone with you all the time, right?

LBG:  Yeah… (Thinks:  Seriously?  You want me to wait by the phone all day every day just in case you call, which you might not, and then when you do all you’ll say is “I’m so tired, I’ve had such a long day, I just wanted to say hello before I crashed.  Good night”?)

PBF:  And you could come and stay with me every so often.  Just take a week every couple of months or something.

LBG:  Maybe.  (Thinks:  You know I have a job, right?  Actually a pretty good one, and I work really hard at it and can’t just leave it for days at a time?)

PBF:  So what do you think?

LBG:  (Thinks:  God, he’s cute.   I really, really like him, even though he’s kind of ticking me off at the moment.  How often do you find someone who’s cute and smart and funny all at the same time?  Long distance could totally work!)  I just don’t think long distance ever really works, even when you haven’t just started dating.  (Thinks:  D*mmit!)

PBF:  Yeah, I know, I just thought I’d ask.

LBG:  But we can still talk on the phone and online.  You know, as friends. (Thinks:  Thanks a lot, Gloria Steinem.  I’m sure you’ll be a great comfort to me when I’m curled up at home alone for the third week in a row, eating ice cream and watching movies.)

PBF:  I don’t think that’s a good idea.

LBG:  Why not?  (Thinks:  Oh, my God, he hates me, he was going to break up with me anyway, he’s just too nice to want to hurt my feelings…)

PBF:  Because I want to do things with you that I don’t want to do with my friends.

LBG:  (Thinks:  Oh, that’s just not fair.)  Oh, that’s just not fair.

PBF:  Yeah, I know.  Sometimes life sucks.

LBG:  Yeah. (Thinks:  Yes, yes it does.)


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So much for how it actually went down.  This is how I like to comfort myself by thinking it went for him:

Really Hot Guy: I’m taking another job.  (Thinks:  God, she’s hot.)

Potential Girl Friend:  Really?  That’s great!  Isn’t it?

RHG:  It’s a big promotion, supervising a major project. (Thinks:  She’s totally going to freak out when she finds out I’m moving away.)

PGF:  Oh, wow, that’s awesome!  That’s what you’ve been looking for, right?

RHG:  It’s in a different city.  (Thinks:  She’s fantastic.  If only I could take her with me.  But she’s such a brilliant, independent, fantastic woman that she’d never just up and leave for a guy, especially not one who so clearly doesn’t deserve such an amazing woman.)

[I told you, this is how it goes in my head.  Just go with it!]

PGF:  Oh.  Oh, okay.  Um, how far away?

RHG:  It’s pretty far away.  I’m going to have to move.  (Thinks:  Here it comes.  She’s totally going to call me on starting to see her when I knew I might be leaving soon.  I know I shouldn’t have, but she’s so hot!)

PGF:  Oh.  Man, that sucks.

RHG:  I know this isn’t fair on you, but I really like you.  I didn’t know if you wanted to maybe try something long distance?  (Please, please, please?  I swear I’ll make it work.  I definitely won’t start flirting with my cute colleague and thinking about what she’d look like without her clothes)

PGF:  Long distance?  Like, talk during the week and see each other on weekends?

RHG:  Um, actually, it would be more like talk on the phone and see each other maybe once a month.  (Thinks:  I’d really like to make out with her right now.)

PGF:  Once a month?

RHG:  Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could swing once a month.  (Thinks:  Liar.)

PGF:  You’re pretty sure about maybe once a month?

RHG:  And we could talk online or on the phone all the time.  I’m not sure what hours I’ll be working, probably pretty crazy at first, but you keep your phone with you all the time, right? (Thinks:  Am I seriously asking her to wait by the phone for me and I’ll just call whenever?  I’m such a jerk.  God, she’s got great [censored])

PGF:  Yeah…

RHG:  And you could come and stay with me every so often.  Just take a week every couple of months or something.  (Thinks:  Yeah, because she doesn’t have a job and a life or anything.  She’s never going to go for this.)

PGF:  Maybe.

RHG:  So what do you think?  (Thinks:  Come on, come on, I know long distance never really works and we’re just starting out anyway, but I really like you!)

PGF:   I just don’t think long distance ever really works, even when you haven’t just started dating.

RHG:  Yeah, I know, I just thought I’d ask.  (Thinks:  D*mmit!)

PGF:  But we can still talk on the phone and online.  You know, as friends.

RHG:  I don’t think that’s a good idea.  (Friends is so not what I was going for with her.)

PGF:  Why not?

RHG:  Because I want to do things with you that I don’t want to do with my friends.  (Thinks: A lot of which I’m not going to admit to.)

PGF:  Oh, that’s just not fair.

RHG:  Yeah, I know.  Sometimes life sucks.  (Thinks:  How much do I really want that job?)

PGF:  Yeah.

Yeah.  Sometimes life sucks.  But hey, at least I got a post out of it.  New year’s resolution:  find another guy who thinks it’s adorable when I wear two different shoes at the same time.  Bets on how long that’s going to take?

Happy Holidays from the Hamster

There's a lot of Christmas stuff inside. This ...

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My Sainted Mother came this weekend for a visit.  I don’t have a spare bed, so she stays in a hotel when she visits, and over the years she has gotten rather attached to one hotel in particular.  It’s to the point where the concierge knows her and greets her fondly when she walks through the automatic doors, and the girl behind the desk gets her a free upgrade to a better room, and the waiter at the restaurant will tell her about the latest installment in his ongoing health saga–of which she remembers all the details.  One of these days I’m going to find out she came to town, visited the people in the hotel, and left without bothering to see me!  Actually, I’m not 100% sure that hasn’t already happened.

This time we were admiring the Christmas decorations in the lobby.  Well, Sainted Mother was admiring the decorations.  I, having had a very long day, was yawning discreetly and thinking about what on earth to post to my blog when I got home.  We had the following conversation:

Sainted Mother:  Isn’t that a beautiful Christmas display?

Little Blind Girl:  (glancing covertly at the game on the television) Absolutely.

SM:  Last year, So-and-so decorated the lobby, and he always uses a more traditional style.

LBG:  (tries to see score without squinting) Does he?

SM:  But Other Person decorated this year.  I’m really not sure what’s on the top of that tree.  It looks like an African tribal mask.

LBG:  (thinking about blog) That’s nice.

SM:  No it isn’t!

LBG:  (without missing a beat) That’s terrible!

Thank goodness Sainted Mother has a sense of humor!  So much so that she got me a little Happy Hamster button for Christmas, in honor of the picture of a hamster that I posted not too long ago.  It’s just a big button with a picture of a manically grinning hamster on it, and if you press it, it says things like “A happiness train just left the station, and it’s coming right at you!  Choo choo happy train!”  It was actually my favorite gift.

I threw the bag I put it in on the floor of the car and that was enough to trigger the hamster button, and I got this vivid mental picture of my Sainted Mother on her way here, in the car for several hours, with that hamster button packed away in the back and pushing up against something every time she made a turn or stopped suddenly.  “You deserve to be happy–you’re turning left!”  “It’s so happy to have to brake suddenly because the a**hole in front of you doesn’t know how to drive!  Happy happy happy!” All I can say is, to listen to that for hours and still smile, she must really love me.  Either that or she finally lost the rest of her marbles and went to her…happy place?

So here’s to family during the holidays, still glad to see you even after the holiday preparations have driven them out of their minds.  Because that’s how you can tell who really loves you, isn’t it?

Doctor’s note

English: Caricature of Dr. House MD famous tv ...

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So it turns out I get cluster headaches.  For those of you in blissful ignorance, cluster headaches are sort of like migraines that want to kill you.  They’ve been likened to amputation without anesthetic, or childbirth without an epidural.  On the downside, I ended up in the ER.  On the upside, I scored some pretty sweet painkillers, and all I had to do was endure what has been described as the most intense pain a human can experience!  And I thought I’d put that behind me with my last Statistics class.

The doctors and nurses at the ER kept asking me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10.  I was there a while, and I had very little to do, so before the painkillers kick in, I will share with you the scale I came up with to give myself something to go by:

Little Blind Girl’s Scale of Relative Pain

Pick the level your pain most resembles:

1:  Listening to elevator music

2:  Getting ready to pay the cashier after waiting in a long line, only to remember that you left your card at home

3:  Extended exposure to talk radio

4:  Computer crashing just after you’ve finished a complex project and before you get a chance to save it

5:  Dry cleaner ruining your favorite outfit

6:  Realizing late on Christmas Eve that there’s one present you forgot to get

7:  Calling that hot guy/girl whose number you scored and finding out he/she gave you a fake number

8:  Your divorced parents each get remarried on the same day in different time zones and they both expect you to be at the wedding (has actually happened)

9:  IRS audit

10:  You can’t access the internet to be able to read the little blind girl’s blog!

All right, now that we’ve all acknowledged what’s really important in life, I’m off to have another bizarre prescription-influenced dream.  Last night I dreamed that I was in a meeting and one of my colleagues got up in the middle of the meeting and started doing a stand-up routine.  It was pretty good, too!  I think I’m most disturbed by the fact that I was dreaming about meetings.

Say good night, Gracie!  Good night, Gracie.

You like me, you really like me!

I’ve been nominated for the 7×7 award!  Rather than setting out a list of the rules, which can be found here, I just worked them into the post.  As I recall, the last time I was nominated for a blog award, I lamented the fact that I wouldn’t get to walk down the virtual red carpet in my virtual couture.  Well, this time I’m making my own virtual red carpet to strut down!  Major advantage to virtual couture:  you don’t have to starve yourself to fit into it.  Also, no hairspray, and you can wear flats.  So here we go:

To present our next award, we have Jessica Alba and, of course, Johnny Depp!  Catch them in their latest movies, Ms. Alba in I Know I’ve Got More Talent Than This and Mr. Depp in Whatever Tim Burton Is Making This Time.

JA:  Thanks so much.  It’s a pleasure to be able to present this award to the Little Blind Girl.  Well-known for such posts as Why I Like the World Fuzzy, her most beautiful piece, and LBG’s Rules to Live By, her most helpful piece, the Little Blind Girl stumbles through this world bewildered but full of humor about the obstacles she encounters–something that was the subject of her most underrated post, and one of the ones with an audio version, Little Blind Red Riding Hood.

JD:  And of course, there is her most popular piece, Pick Up Lines by Johnny Depp.  Who can forget me fingering a turtleneck and saying, See this material?  It’s boyfriend material.  But seriously, folks, check out her most prideworthy piece, Mad Libs and Whistling Marmosets.  You’ll take something different away from it every time.

JA:  And don’t forget her most surprisingly successful piece, Oh I’m Gonna Hurt Some Feelings, All Right.  Quite a few hurt feelings reports submitted after that one!  But I’m most fond of her most controversial piece, True or False?  I’m still wondering if she has a tattoo!

JD:  You may not know this about LBG, as I like to call her, but she can put on eyeliner entirely by touch, a skill she keeps trying to practice on me.  Kind readers and gentle followers, without further ado, the Little Blind Girl!

(Little Blind Girl walks out, occasionally tripping over wires, steps, and people)

LBG:  Oh, my gosh, what an honor!  I just want to thank Lori Franks from Sunny Side Up for nominating me for this award.  Her blog is such an inspiration to me.  I know I can always turn to her for a smile.  I want to thank my Sainted Mother and my Darling Dad for all the blog lessons in my childhood, and Big Sis for beating up all the mean commenters.  This sort of honor really belongs to more than just me, so I want to nominate these blogs, because they deserve this award just as much as–oh, let’s be honest, more than I do!, for giving me artistic inspiration on tap.  For those of you who remember the Kraken Vacuum, he’s the artist!  New drawings every day from a very talented and funny guy., for going chapter by chapter through the books in the Twilight series to give us all a hilarious warning of what’s in store.  Mega-props for not getting discouraged in the midsection of New Moon, in which Bella is the most pathetic, whiny mess I’ve ever encountered in literature., for a daily glimpse into a loving, well-grounded, and excellently photographed family life.  She’s the cool Mom you loved to visit when your friends still lived at home.  Expectant mother meets snarky philosopher meets super-cool BFF.  You don’t need to be all into pregnancy blogs to enjoy her blogservations.  Hey, did I just coin a word?, who wrote the niftiest poem-blog about Christmas I’ve ever read.  Actually, it’s the only one I’ve ever read.  And it’s awesome!  Also the funniest reaction to being Freshly Pressed that I’ve come across.  Check it out., a.k.a. Mixed Gems, for your necessary dose of beauty, fashion, culture, and lifestyle.  You will become more beautiful, more fashionable, and more cultured just by reading her blog, I promise.  I just love him.  He’s hilarious, sweet, hilarious, awkward, and hilarious.  Reading his blog makes me feel all warm and happy, and occasionally nervous about dogs.

And of course, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Cold medicine and caffeine, or: look at all the pretty colors!

I came down with something nasty yesterday, and I was a bit out of it for a lot of the day.  Toward the evening, I started thinking, “Gosh, I haven’t posted anything on my blog today. I should post something.  All my lovely followers will be missing me!”  Did I mention I was a bit out of it?  I’d taken a fair amount of cold medicine, and as a result was even more unfit than usual to operate heavy machinery such as a computer.  Here’s me trying to post yesterday:

Little Blind Girl: (sitting at computer) I should post something.  What should I blog about? (enormous yawn) (lengthy pause) I should post something.  What should I blog about? (closes eyes) (falls asleep; wakes up) Why am I at the computer?  Oh; blog entry!  I should post something.  What should I blog about?

(LBG proceeds to spend the next fifteen minutes surfing the net for inspiration, eventually ending up on someone else’s blog, reading a post she’s already read.  After reading the same sentence three times, she shakes her head.)

LBG:  This isn’t going to work.  I know; I’ll drink some Red Bull!  Maybe then I’ll be able to think of a topic for my next post.

Half an hour later:

LBG:  You know, I’m really not feeling any effects.  I think I’ll drink another.

Fifteen minutes later:

LBG:  Oh, my God, this is going to be the most awesome post ever!  I’m, like, a total genius.  I should post about fish!  Fish are so cool!  I had a fish once…hey, that song I like is on the radio…(gets up and dances)

Fifteen minutes later:

LBG:  I love my blog!  (sings to self) I’m going to post to my blog now, going to post to my blog!  But first I’m going on Facebook–oh, man, all my friends are available for chat!  I’m going to chat to all my friends at the same time!  That’ll be awesome!

Thirty minutes later:

LBG:  I feel fantastic!  Why didn’t I think of drinking Red Bull earlier?  I bet Red Bull could cure cancer!  All right, time to post to my blog.  Oh, man, my floor is disgusting!  I should clean it…I’m going to clean it right now!  God, I rock!

Twenty minutes later:

LBG:  Where did I leave the mop?  Oh, well, I am totally going to write a blog post, now.  I’m going to write it about…shoes!  I love shoes!  Or socks!  Or kumquats….ooh, I haven’t seen this movie in a while.  Let me just pop it in.

Two hours later:

LBG:  Wow, that Red Bull is really (yawn) wearing off.  Come to think of it, so is my cold medicine.  I don’t feel very good.  I should probably redose.  Where did I put my medicine? (After twenty minutes of searching) Here it is!  I wonder why I put it by the computer?  Oh, well.  Here goes!

Within half an hour, I was asleep.  Sorry, peeps, but I’m pretty sure I spared you an enthusiastic but completely incomprehensible blog entry, especially since when I woke up the next time, my first thought was “Why is all my underwear on my coffee table?”  And this, friends, is why cold medicine and Red Bull should never mix.  Interestingly, I’ve been nominated for an award.  More on that when I’m sure I’m not going to pull a Sally Field.

Pick up lines by Johnny Depp

I’ve become something of a connoisseur of pick-up lines.  I thought I’d get my good friend Johnny Depp to help me present my top ten favorite pick-up lines for your entertainment:

10.  Johnny’s always so polite:

9.  Oh, Johnny, you can have my number any time:

8.  I love this one.  You win either way:

7.  Actually shouted out of a window at a friend once, though sadly not by Johnny Depp:

6.  Best used earlier in the evening, as slurring will lessen the impact:

5.  Works surprisingly often, especially when you look like this:

4.  A classic for a reason:

3.  This one depends heavily on delivery:

2.  This one may be apocryphal:

1.  My all-time favorite:

Many thanks to Johnny Depp for helping me with this post.  May your box office returns ever increase.  I leave you now with a highly requested image:  I’ve been asked what I actually look like, so I’m posting a picture of me writing this blog.  Enjoy!

Little Blind Girl visits the optometrist

US Navy 100922-N-5821P-032 Cmdr. Amy Burin, as...

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Even though I’m legally blind, I do go to the optometrist and get a prescription for glasses.  I don’t wear them a lot because they give me headaches, they’re very heavy…oh, let’s face it.  I don’t wear them because they make me look like a dork.  I assume.  I’m going by the way guys will turn to me and say, “Oh, hi–oh, my God!” and shortly afterward find themselves urgently needing to leave.  So I don’t go with the glasses in public that often, but they’re still nice to have for when I’m at home.  Alone.  In private.  With no one else around.

I’d gotten used to my old optometrist.  He understood my quirks and visual eccentricities.  They’d have been visual insanities, but his fees were really high.  He also managed not to laugh until after I had left his office, which I always appreciated.  So I wasn’t thrilled when, the next time I made an appointment, there was a new guy in the office.  He was very nice, I assumed as always that he was strikingly good looking, but he wasn’t my guy.  But you take what you can get, with optometrists as with dating.  I warned his staff ahead of time that I’m a little different and then just showed up on the appointed day.

So we started the examination with a test of my depth perception.  I was supposed to focus on an object while he covered and then uncovered one of my eyes.  Dutifully, I stared at the object.  Seconds passed.  “Focus on the object,” he said.  I focused again, as much as I could.  More seconds passed.  “I need you to focus on the object,” he said again, with that exaggerated patience people show when they know so much better than you do.  I sighed, focused as best I could, and waited.  There’s a breaking-in period with any new optometrist, when you’re legally blind.

“Why aren’t you focusing on the object? Are you having problems?” he asked.  What I wanted to say was, “You’re the eye doc.  You tell me.  Oh wait, you’re not really a doctor, are you?  Maybe I should go to a real eye doctor!”  What I actually said, because you never know when these things are going to get back to your mother, was “I’m doing the best I can, I just don’t have any depth perception.”  He wrote some stuff on his clipboard, probably to make himself feel like a real doctor, and moved on to the next test.

The next test was of peripheral vision.  Again, one eye was covered, and I had to tell the doctor when his hand came into view out of the corner of my other eye.  He covered one eye, and I sighed a little to myself and waited.  Seconds passed again.  “You really can’t see my hand?” he asked.  “No, I really can’t,” I replied, and I don’t think I used that tone of exaggerated patience that he had used, but I really wanted to.

Finally I saw his hand and said so.  “Wow, I’ve never examined anyone with a loss of peripheral vision that dramatic!” he remarked, all cheerful, as he made more I-wish-I-were-a-real-doctor notes on his clipboard.  Now, what does one say to that?  Thanks?  I’ve been working really hard at it?  I sat on my hands (to keep from doing the face-palm slap) and waited for the next test.

Eventually, we got to the part where I had to read out lines on a chart across the room.  “Read out loud the lowest line you can make out,” he told me.  I really, really wanted to work with him.  It’s nice to have glasses that let me see enough to read a large-print book. But…”I’m sorry, sir–where’s the chart?”

Nope, not exaggerating!  This story ends with me getting referred to an out-of-town specialist who, I sincerely hope,  has actually read my file.  It does not end with me getting glasses.  The interesting part was when the new guy wanted to get paid.  At that point, I’d about had it, and I gave him a Look.  That part of my vision he seemed to understand perfectly.  Finally, we’re seeing eye to eye!

Why not be a frog?

A Australian Green Tree Frog

Image via Wikipedia. Blissful or dead?

Ah, college!  The vast opportunities for learning, the endless ability to procrastinate, the lack of consequences for skipping class…I once skipped an introductory philosophy class so often that the professor asked my classmates if I was sick.  Then there’s the time I defended my senior thesis before I wrote it–successfully!  I hear that one still gets talked about.

I majored, among other things, in Philosophy, which meant that my roommate was on the receiving end of some major overly-serious pontification.  My roommate was blonde, tan, and gorgeous, but you couldn’t hate her because she was also really, really nice.  And smart.  She started off as pre-med, ended up spending a year or two wandering around Australia, and then I kind of lost track of her after that.  She ended up being the perfect person to have lengthy late-night conversations with about the meaning of life and assorted related topics.

One such conversation was about the definition of happiness.  I thought there was one universal kind of happiness that we all participated in to a greater or lesser degree.  Her point was that happiness is an emotion that depends in part on the capacity of your brain to process emotions.  I think.  So, she said, while she as a human had the ability to feel all different kinds and degrees of happiness, a frog is pretty much either blissful or dead.  She paused, then concluded, “I really don’t think I’d want to be a frog!”

And they say kids don’t learn anything in school.

LBG’s rules to live by

Leroy Jethro Gibbs

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I being the little blind girl am sometimes known as LBG.  Occasionally, I get mixed up with LJG, or Leroy Jethro Gibbs, a character on NCIS.  Apparently, Gibbs has about sixty rules for living that he makes his subordinates follow.  Well, I’ve got some rules, too, that have served me well throughout my life.  This would be more impressive if I were about twice as old.  However, even a young’n like me can find herself in some sticky situations, and here’s my advice on how to deal with them:

1.  Never wear shoes you can’t run in.  This may seem only to apply to girls, but guys, check the soles of your shoes.  Even when you’re at a fancy black-tie event, you may find yourself needing to run away from amorous cougars, people you owe money to, or the occasional enemy assault.  Hey, I can’t be the only one that happens to!  My advice:  take a quick sprint on a hardwood floor before you go out for the evening.  If you can’t outrun an armed attacker, change your shoes.  Corollary to this, ladies (and some guys):  learn how to climb out of a second story window in heels.

2.  Never turn down free food.  This one stood me in good stead while I was in school, but the habit has stuck, and let me tell you, free food is always something to accept.  If it’s something that you can’t identify and you feel awkward about refusing, just don’t look too closely and pretend it’s tofu, which pretty much always looks weird.  Under no circumstances ask what it was you just ate.  Trust me on this.

3.  Don’t bother with the Do Not Call registry.  It used to help, but there are a million ways around it these days.  Instead of cutting off the telemarketers, keep them on the phone.  They have quotas to make.  Ask them to explain their products, compare their free gifts to other companies’ free gifts, quiz them on fees and surcharges.  When all else fails, correct their grammar.  Word gets around; they’ll stop calling.

4.  Sometimes life forces you to the edge of a cliff.  When this happens, you can either look at the ground, put your tail between your legs and go backwards, or you can jump off the cliff.  Always, always, always jump off the cliff.  You can figure out the parachute on the way down.  Just jump.  You might go splat, but you might learn to fly.

5.  Don’t live by anyone else’s rules but your own.

Don’t get me wrong; I like Gibbs, and I like his rules, especially the one about not getting between a Marine and his coffee.  I know that one from experience.  I might also say, don’t get between a new parent and his or her coffee.  And especially don’t get between a Marine who just became a parent and his coffee.  But these are my rules, and I offer them to you to adopt or ignore as you please.  I highly recommend the telemarketer one, though.  That’s free entertainment, and fun for the whole family.