Can't Sleep While I'm Medicated

My favourite professor happens to deliberately not keep up with American pop culture, and uses myself and another nerdy professor as his sources for all things that have to do with American culture. (If you don't believe me, I had to explain what a "mosh pit" is to him. Yes, this blew me away that a fellow could be alive and living in the States for 40+ years and not know what a mosh pit is.)

I don't know why, but if you can shock/surprise this guy with something supremely witty, his reaction to the supremely witty thing is priceless. Think of a grown man laughing hard enough to weep. I don't know too many men who can do that.

A couple of weeks ago, I was lamenting on my bad experiences involving creepy men at the Irish Times to this particular professor. I said to him, "What I need is to find myself a lesbian dance club in Butte, and then I won't have any of these problems anymore!". His reaction to this (knowing the ludicrousness of finding any decent dance club, much less a lesbian dance club, in Butte helps to know why this is so freakishly funny) was so intense that he said to me afterward, "Diane, I thought I had it down to where anything could come out of your mouth and it wouldn't surprise me. I was wrong."

Discussing a recent asshole in my life, I mentioned addressing the fellow as "Most Honourable Recent Asshole" (in a pseudo-Asian-sage voice, with a little bow) which this professor also got a kick out of. Nerdy humor. Because we're stuck in the Museum Lab all day long, day after day and week after bloody week. And it gets to us. (Note: There's something strange about knowing the night security guards by name and being able to chat them up when they make their rounds of Museum building)

The thing I know for certain that I will always laugh at is the scene in Office Space where Samir asks his coworkers about the fax machine: "Why does it say 'paper jam' when there is no paper jam? I swear to God, one of these days, I just kick this piece of shit out the window." There is something so truly hilariously tragic on that piece of celluloid that I will never tire of. Maybe you just have to be in Samir's shoes to truly take advantage of the joy.

Endnote: I've totally fallen for Michael Buble's voice. Any fellow who can sing like that gets an A grade in my book. Maybe it's the "Sinatra of the new millenium" thing or whatever, but ever since I heard him sing the Spiderman theme in the theater I thought he was one of the coolest living vocalists around. Plus, he has a version of "Sway" floating around somewhere (I think the soundtrack to Las Vegas). And I dig that song.