Wednesday, March 5, 2014

My Life According to Google

Last night on my way home from work I was deleting the browsing history on my iPhone. It’s something I like to do every now and again, but not because it’s all filled up with pornography and pictures of Scott Speedman with his shirt off. I mean, maybe the second part, but who would want to delete that?

Anyway, I do it because I have mild OCD and also because you know how I sometimes have irrational death fantasies that lead me to making the bed every morning and always making sure the counter-top is clean before leaving for work? Well, I also have irrational death fantasies about being dead, having the paramedics look for my contacts in my phone, and then getting bored on the ride over to the hospital and starting to figure out who I was before I got trapped in a manhole by my new Gucci shoe and not rescued by Matthew McConaughey (“Wedding Planner” was on this weekend, you guys!)

And it would be terrifying and ultimately sort of sad. Because, while I have friends who literally have jobs that are actively helping people better their lives, educate today’s youth, and design websites that make all of our lives more fun, I spend my days asking Google what a papaya tastes like.

Oh my God I’m not kidding.

So below, ladies and gentleman, are the last five things I searched for on my phone before deleting everything and pretending this never happened. Unabridged and unashamed (the title of my first book in a trilogy that is yet unnamed), here we go:  

What do papayas taste like?
Ok, this might seem ridiculous, but I’m reading a book right now that is talking about Bali, and apparently papayas are, like, falling from the sky. And since I was late to the fruit game and just got on board with oranges, I got nervous that I would be fruit-offensive when CB and I go there later this year. However, I also didn’t want to offend my palette with a fruit that was the worst. So, I googled it and the consensus seemed to be that they’re bland? Which I can handle. Especially if I’m eating them while sitting next to a pool in the Balinese jungle and playing with monkeys (it’s possible that my interpretation of what our honeymoon will be like is quite different than CB’s. Or that of reality. However, that’s never stopped me before, so let’s move on.)

Things to wear in Bali in August
Duh. I'm sensing a trend. 

Dangers of getting peppermint in your eye.
This was a legit concern, and one that was typed using one hand as the other was cupping my eye wondering if I’d permanently blinded myself accidentally by delicious hard winter candy.

How does one get peppermint in their eye, you ask? By being a child who lives in an adult world, that’s how. You see, we keep a bowl of peppermints by the door in our apartment because it’s the best. And so I usually take a couple and put them in my coat pocket for later and snack on them throughout the week. However, apparently there’s some sort of inner peppermint battle going on in my coat pocket, because the other day, one got loose and was just hanging out all broken up into pieces and out of its protective plastic wrap. A rogue peppermint!

So of course I put my hand in my pocket, pulled it out to itch my eye and  all of a sudden a hunk of peppermint was stuck to my hand and started scratching at my cornea!

Hence, the Google search.

Luckily for all involved – especially that peppermint – my vision appears to be normal at the moment, but I'll keep you posted.

Is Bono from U2 short?
This was prompted by the Oscars the other night when I pointed out to Beth that Bono seemed to be wearing heels.

Me: “I think he’s super-short, like 5’5”, 5’6”?
Beth: “Really? How did I never know this?”
Me: “Well, I’m kind of making that up. But he looks short. And he’s wearing heels.”

Result: he’s 5ft 6inches. BOOM. Thanks, Google. (I still love you, Bono. And as I've explained to CB several times when he points out that celebrity men I love are likely short: "Short doesn't matter when you're laying down." I'm such a lady. Best Future Wife Ever.)

How do they make glass? 
The other day at work, while sitting in a meeting in a conference room made entirely of glass, I was like "Glass is the best. How do they make glass?" And then remembered to Google it on my way home that day and felt all proud that I'd remembered. 

Of course, I couldn't tell you how they make glass because then I got distracted by a comedian I found while googling this who had a whole stand-up routine around googling about glass.

And then the world as we know it ceased to exist because we're all the absolute worst.

So…what’s the last thing you googled? Am I alone here? 

Happy Wednesday! 


  1. Ouch! peppermint in the eye.
    Please write a book.
    The last thing I googled on my phone was "who wears #18 on the blackhawks"
    Turns out. No one. Since I'm sure you were wondering too. ha ha ha!

    1. Right? It burned!
      Hahaha I was dying to know. Thank goodness you cleared it up :-)

  2. Omg I love this and have googled some real gems lately "parisian style trends for March", "substitute for baking soda" and "best taxi company to jfk". Only the baking soda one was helpful. Turns out the only way to be stylish in Paris is to buy new clothes...too late for this business trip!! so jealous of you going to Bali by the way!!! It is on my list!

    1. I'm jealous that you're going to Paris! Let's swap stories after the summer :-)

  3. Papaya, or PawPaw as we call it down here in the Antipodes, can be good or bad. If you get your common, stock standard papaya, it is indeed bland, with a vaguely soapy aftertaste. If you get a good one, it's a sweet, creamy taste that is a little like eating tutti frutti custard. Another tropical fruit that is exotic and delightful without being overpowering is custard apple, which tastes exactly as it sounds. Divine! In case you can't tell, I like custard, so my opinion might be biased.

    Note: if anyone offers you Durian (or Jack Fruit, as we Antipodean types call it), RUN! RUN AWAY! It not only smells like sick through a sock, it tastes like it.

    Also, monkeys won't play with you. They will steal your handbag and take selfies with your camera. At the Commonwealth Games in India in 2010, they had trained monkeys to patrol the Athletes' Village and stop the local monkeys from breaking into rooms and stealing everything - and the local monkeys in Bali are just as bad. If they harass you, give them your ice cream and hide your keys.