She could have asked me if I wanted toe piercing, for all I know.

When you get your nails done by someone foreign,
who doesn't speak English well,
you never know what could happen.

I thought I was saying yes to a certain color...

But apparently, I was agreeing to flowers on my big toes.

I nodded yes, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the massaging chair...
and when I opened my eyes again, I had flowers.

Have you ever had anything different on your nails?

Garbled Transmissions

You know what I think the root of all evil is?

Miscommunication.

Seriously.

I think if we humans communicated better with each other and understood each others motivations, the world would run smoother. Yes, there would still be conflict as people disagree on methods of solving problems, but I think it'd be clearer how much we all want the same things.

Food, happiness, health, peace, goodwill, etc.

Do I sound naive? Is this unrealistic?

Growing up on a ranch in the country, we had live-in help and ranch hands. The most memorable live-in that I remember was a young woman from El Salvador who didn't speak English.

She started taking English classes while she lived with us, and my mom worked on increasing her own Spanish vocab so she could communicate back. In fact, my mom started labeling the entire house with English/Spanish flashcards. Pretty soon, it was normal to me to see flashcards taped to the drawers, to the refrigerator, the trashcan, EVERYTHING.






But, what an ingenious idea! It sure helped everyone's communication.

I remember once telling our live-in that I was hungry and wanted a hot dog. She didn't understand that, so I switched to Spanish. I knew the Spanish word for "hot" was "Caliente" and the word for dog was "perro." So, I told her I wanted "un caliente el pero!" She looked confused and mildly horrified. I think what I saw is translated as "a hot the dog." Confusing, yes? Si!






We moved to this town a year ago, and I was immediately confused by our neighbors. We had one neighbor that would park their cars sideways across their driveway. The message seemed clear, "no one use our driveway." We had some guests turn around in their driveway, so it seemed they didn't like that. But we didn't get why?

It just seemed rude of them. We didn't understand.

Then one day the neighbor came over to talk. And then I understood. They worked from home and were on the phone a lot. AND, whenever someone used their driveway, their small inside dog would bark like crazy, causing problems with their home business calls. Now their actions made more sense.

Men and women operate so differently. I truly believe there are just some innate differences that are hard to overcome. I think we need classes on communication. How to do it best, how to be better at it, etc.

I could promote world peace, I tell ya, if I had a chance.

Have I told you that my bed communicates with me? It teases me and tempts me to climb back in. Except today, since someone had an accident in it (and I woke up soaked in said pee). Now it's telling me it needs to be washed, desperately.

Have you had some miscommunication in your life lately? Have you made funny mistakes while trying to speak a foreign language? Does your bed talk to you?

Commodication

Earlier this month, Texas Homeboy and I celebrated our 12th anniversary. I haven't been into the sentimental cards much lately...so I got him this one. It's a Hallmark card.

That's a coffee stain on the bottom right-hand corner because Texas Homeboy kept it next to his coffee machine for the next week or two. I'd like to think because he loved it so much, but he probably just didn't know what to do with it. I know just what to do with it! Blog.

Here's what the inside said (I've painted out my inked ramblings of love):

Now, this might be a touchy subject for some, but do you let your spouse see you on the toilet?

Texas Homeboy and I have never been shy about this sort of thing. We don't intrude on each other's privacy, but we'll carry on conversations or be in the bathroom together...

I thought everyone was like this until a friend told me she never allowed her husband in the bathroom while she...um...took care of things. Built a log cabin. Took the kids to the lake. You know. Went #2. What do you call it?

I was shocked. I have no such privacy in my home. Even the dog walks in and expects a pat on her head if I'm in there doing my business. The kids come talk, I shoo them out. You know.

So, my question for you is, do you let your loved one see you in the bathroom? Should that kind of thing be kept more private in order to keep the magic alive? Or does this bring us closer?