Acts of Random Kindness...again

This year, I am spending Christmas in England. I landed on Liverpool airport, and from there, I had to make my way to my partner's house in Wolverhampton. For all my ranting about England, their stupid separate water taps, driving on the wrong side of the road, and all, upon landing, I was instantly reminded of their charming side.

The details here are unimportant, but the bottom line was that the machine at the train station were unavailable, thus I couldn't print my pre-bought ticket for the train Liverpool-Wolverhampton. This could go one of two ways: I buy a new ticket (which would be considerably more expensive) or board the train and run the risk of having to pay at least 20 pounds penalty.

I explained my situation to the guard. He nodded, smiled, explained to me it was alright, let me go through and advised me, should I get checked on the train, to tell them that the machines weren't working (when, in fact, I was taking a train from a different stop from the one I was meant to, and it didn't have machines in the first place. Had I gone to the stop I was meant to be boarding the train from, I would have missed it). I thanked him for his kindness, he even told em which track number I should be looking for.

Uplifted by his kind spirit, I saw a couple who were unsure which train they should board. Soon enough, their confusion gave away their Iberian origins. Partly because of the kindness I had just encountered, and partly because it's what I would do anyway, I helped them out after checking the schedule board.

The train was rocking soothingly, I was deep into my forensics book when a man came to check tickets. I explained thhe situation, and he was very understanding.

I like it when chance encounters are positive and make your day. The staff at the station chose to believe my story, which was, incidentally, true. They didn't have to. The Spanish couple would have been alright without my help, too. But it sure left me with a smile on my face, feeling a connection with people I will probably never meet again.

The deadline-comedy axiom

The closer a deadline is, the higher the levels of procrastination. And as often enough, we procrastinate with something entertaining rather than difficult to watch or constructive, we end up watching TV. In my case, that is either comedy or romance. In these past couple of days, for whatever reason, every single episode I saw, be it sitcoms or Mythbusters (I watched plenty of both) was funnier than they usually are. Thus, it appears that the closer you are to a deadline, the funnier things seem. The explanation? Intensity. You're getting closer to a deadline, levels of stress and anticipation rise, and proportionally, so do levels of enjoyment. A side-effect, on a psychological level, is that we want to find things funnier because we need higher justification to continue watching sitcoms. We feel less guilty for continuing procrastination if it's a really good one. We would feel more guilty for doing it, if it wasn't even good. A bit like cheating- if you're going to do it, it'd better be with someone hotter than your partner.
3 days of TV and studying to go.

During the intermission

I went to the ballet with some friends, here in Rotterdam. This is not the story of the ballet but a small dance that very few people saw, in the intermission.
There were three parts to it and in the intermission we saw a man across the hall, dancing. He was in his late 50s or early 60s, and while people got up to get a drink or move their legs a bit, he moved his legs, too, and much more so. He danced. I know I certainly felt my blood warming up, but he actually did what most of us only joked about. He must have felt inspired and it was beautiful to see him follow his heart, despite strangers watching him with confusion, or laughing at him. Who cares if others laugh at you, your heart wants what it wants.
Like a very special person once said to me, when talking about acting, if you don't feel stupid while doing it, you're not doing it right.

Where do a lesbian and a straight woman have in common?

Here's a jolly funny moment for you:
My dad is coming to visit in a couple of days. I realised I didn't have any winter shoes here so I asked him to pick up appropriate shoeware and bring it to me when he comes to visit. And this is where a straight woman and a lesbian, (where I am a hybrid of both) cross: you can never separate a straight woman from her shoes. However, the fact that it is combat boots with steel toe caps tells you that you're dealing with a lesbian.
Ha, take that, feminists!!