THE ROCKET SCIENTIST
I have a shirt that says "Rocket Scientist. Ask me about my scars". I love this shirt. It is a shirt that a friend created for me, due to the fact that even though I may BE a rocket scientist, I am still a dumbass occasionally. The scars in question are from a hand held steamer. You know, the kind that have a big warning label on them that says "Do not use while wearing the clothes you are steaming". I have 4 perfectly round scars on my hip to demonstrate why. Actually they have faded now, but I still remember how much it hurt.
Anyway, I was sitting in my friend's kitchen one morning and her husband asked me a dumb question (both Deb and I thought it was dumb). And I replied, "I AM a Rocket Scientist, you know." Deb added "Just ask her about her scars". And the shirt was born.
So I had this shirt on Saturday. It is normally a shirt that I don't wear in public, just around the house. But I wore it to get my nails done on Saturday afternoon. There was an older lady sitting across the lobby from me and she said "What does your shirt say?" I told her and she said "Bottle Rockets, right?" Um, no, I actually have a PhD.
"Well, what does the scar part mean?" Um, for having an advanced degree, I'm not very bright sometimes.
"That's the way it is. Usually people only know what they are trained in." My doctorate is in safety engineering.
"Oh. My granddaughter worked for ______ and she went out this summer and took pictures at work sites of everything everyone did wrong. She knows a lot about OSHA, but she fell from a ladder--15 feet up and landed on her head." Hold up--if she took a header off a ladder from 15 feet, chances are she's dead. But the lady went ON--so by the time she went back to her appointment, I am seriously doubting her story. That and she didn't know shit about OSHA.
So, note to self--don't wear Rocket Scientist shirt in public anymore. It gets way too annoying.
Softball update--We have a month to go in the season. I think I am ready for the season to be over. I have been hitting the crap out of the ball, but had about 5 unforced errors last night. Most involved me backhanding the ball--had the g.d. ball in my glove, but then the ball jumped OUT of my glove and hauled ass into the outfield. Then there was the play that was mine all the way that the first baseperson effed up because she doesn't think I can play.
Before the game started, I called our shortstop a dumbass. He told me that if I got on base (I was coming up to bat), I could call him dumbass the rest of the game. The manager of the team told me I could call him that even if I didn't get on base last night. I went 5 for 5. I guess I should call him dumbass more often.
We lost--again. Wasn't for lack of trying.
I have a shirt that says "Rocket Scientist. Ask me about my scars". I love this shirt. It is a shirt that a friend created for me, due to the fact that even though I may BE a rocket scientist, I am still a dumbass occasionally. The scars in question are from a hand held steamer. You know, the kind that have a big warning label on them that says "Do not use while wearing the clothes you are steaming". I have 4 perfectly round scars on my hip to demonstrate why. Actually they have faded now, but I still remember how much it hurt.
Anyway, I was sitting in my friend's kitchen one morning and her husband asked me a dumb question (both Deb and I thought it was dumb). And I replied, "I AM a Rocket Scientist, you know." Deb added "Just ask her about her scars". And the shirt was born.
So I had this shirt on Saturday. It is normally a shirt that I don't wear in public, just around the house. But I wore it to get my nails done on Saturday afternoon. There was an older lady sitting across the lobby from me and she said "What does your shirt say?" I told her and she said "Bottle Rockets, right?" Um, no, I actually have a PhD.
"Well, what does the scar part mean?" Um, for having an advanced degree, I'm not very bright sometimes.
"That's the way it is. Usually people only know what they are trained in." My doctorate is in safety engineering.
"Oh. My granddaughter worked for ______ and she went out this summer and took pictures at work sites of everything everyone did wrong. She knows a lot about OSHA, but she fell from a ladder--15 feet up and landed on her head." Hold up--if she took a header off a ladder from 15 feet, chances are she's dead. But the lady went ON--so by the time she went back to her appointment, I am seriously doubting her story. That and she didn't know shit about OSHA.
So, note to self--don't wear Rocket Scientist shirt in public anymore. It gets way too annoying.
Softball update--We have a month to go in the season. I think I am ready for the season to be over. I have been hitting the crap out of the ball, but had about 5 unforced errors last night. Most involved me backhanding the ball--had the g.d. ball in my glove, but then the ball jumped OUT of my glove and hauled ass into the outfield. Then there was the play that was mine all the way that the first baseperson effed up because she doesn't think I can play.
Before the game started, I called our shortstop a dumbass. He told me that if I got on base (I was coming up to bat), I could call him dumbass the rest of the game. The manager of the team told me I could call him that even if I didn't get on base last night. I went 5 for 5. I guess I should call him dumbass more often.
We lost--again. Wasn't for lack of trying.
posted by Ballz @ 6:38 AM
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