Not that.

Knowing where to go and what to do next. Or ants. Them too. I have to believe that both species of bug must have teeny tiny cell phones with teeny tiny apps giving them their marching orders. Just like, it appears, humans are now doing.

Except for me.

But that’s because I am still getting up to snuff with the whole app world in general. The app “Where”, for example, letting me know exactly where I am at any given moment in time, is only starting to make sense, let alone an app telling me where I am supposed to go next.

But for those of you cutting edge types, the latest thing I heard of is something called Foursquare. I am pretty certain that it isn’t the newest, or the only one in this field, it’s the only one I could pronounce and spell.

I suppose the upside of this app is not only does it let you know where to go next, but which of your friends are also going to be there. Which, I imagine is really helpful if you know who you don’t want to see.

The article I read seemed to liken this kind of monitoring to wearing an ankle bracelet, the next step up from house arrest. Decidedly unattractive concept, don’t you think? 
I get the upsides of this technology for the media world, advertisers and the 20 something year old audience that is subscribing…in droves…to this. 

Or is that subscribing in drones? Bzzzzz.

Remember these?

Still have a pair somewhere in your box of memorablia? Nestled, perhaps, next to your slinky, mouseketeer ears, and pogo stick.

I don’t.

But, I am pretty certain that I am going to save the current 3D frames that are being dispensed everywhere. It appears they are the thing to have these days. Chic and hip, black rimmed, very au courant.

Not just for the latest cinema spectacular, you understand. The newest look in 3D is now being sported by, can you imagine, Anna Wintour, sitting as she always does, front row.
Burberry’s, you see, decided to stage this seasons collection in 3D. If you had your 1950’s pair handy, and lived in either Paris, New York, Dubai, Tokyo or San Francisco you could have watched it in all it’s living third dimension.

And you would want to do that because?

I don’t know, wild stab here. Like to reach out and grab the buttons that are a popping? Caress the jutting hip bones of the models? Belt buckles just a grab away?

Doesn’t matter.

Burberry’s was the first to jump on the 3D block and I am reasonably certain more will follow.

What’s old is new.

"..and you wouldn't believe how Gladys was dressed. Really, the Wreck of the Hesperus." 

"Wait, wait I thought. I know that one. The wreck of the Hesperus. Because of an impending hurricane, the father ties his daugther to the ship's mast to keep her from being swept overboard. She was, horrificially, found days later, washed up on the beach (still tied to the mast). I guess, like Gladys, she probably didn't look her fashion best. 

I am fond of metaphors. I like literary or historical references. I just know that when presented with one when I am hearing a story, I sometimes, freeze with anxiety. Do I know that reference? Where do I know that reference from? Can I infer the meaning of their story if I don't know it? Was it used correctly? Do I have too much time on my hands?

Some of my favorites, because I actually recognize and use them, (and are apparently, the favorites of others are because they recognize and use them too) are Sisyphus, the Baatan Death March, Phyrric Victory.

Did you nod in recognition? Or, not? Have to look them up? Figure a way to work them into your next conversation? 

I haven't met a word I don't like, and happily use hundreds of them when one or two would probably do. It would be sooooooo much easier on all of us if the teller of any story would adopt my philosphy. Albeit, the story might not be as intellectually challenging and provocative, but you'd know, immediately what they were actually talking about.

Or am I being to Taozi?

Have you ever had this experience? 

For a brief and fleeting moment, your eyes locked, you held each others gaze, you started to speak, but then, oh no, the doors closed, the moment passed, finished, over, done.

Me neither.

Not that I haven't wanted to.

I've often thought it would be so healthy to channel my fantasy life productively. I envision, we met, married, raised extraordinary children, helped in getting the health care reform bill passed, we freely traveled the world, creating philanthropic foundations whereever we went. And world peace. Bill and Melissa, move over. Except she met him at the office. And I don't go to an office. Strike that opportunity.

Snapping back into the here and now, the only eye contact I make is the pleading look that says I'd really like to not race you to get that empty seat. Otherwise, eye contact is studiously avoided. Perhaps explaining why I probably missed my moment.

Since I am pretty clear that you make your own opportunities, and timing is everything, I am resolved to keep my eyes darting furiously back and forth, my mind open and my telepathic energy signaling, you might be the one.

Who better not take my seat.

No, not back to my set point or goal weight, I'm so over that. 

It's the business brag, "I've made my numbers…" sentiment, which baffles me.

Really, if uttered by Warren Buffett, this might hold some meaning for me. From most of the regular folk I know, not so much. What's the jumping off point, I wonder? Do you offer congratulations to someone you know is just squeaking by?

Sure, why not.

It's November, when you're told this piece of information. Would "phew, you just made it", be taken as less than complimentary? Alternatively, you are told this in March. Once again, do you think they might have set their sites low? Do they simply coast for the rest of the year? Do you casually mention that the year after this one could be a bummer, take a deep dive, show no signs of improving? Would offering up this depressing insight take the wind out of their sails?

"Make Hay While The Sun Shines" I found out, by the way, is literal. If you chose to roll those bales, (or whatever it is one does with hay) on a rainy day, you get soggy hay. That wasn't a mulitple choice question. I just knew it. Nonetheless, I failed the farmer exam.

Anyhow, I've thought about this and think that the next time someone tells me that they made their numbers my response will be, "Me too, I won the lottery. I'm set for life."