I was watching the US Open on Tuesday, and I got confused about Rafael Nadal’s nickname. At first I thought his nickname was the Minotaur, but then I thought maybe his nickname was just something bull-related, and for some reason my first association with bulls is the Minotaur. Which is not surprisingly, actually, as I have almost no idea what a bull is, like, it’s a cow? I have a sort of animal recognition disorder; I play this game with my toddlers. I’ll hold up a horse and say, “This is a hippopotamus, right?” The toddlers will say, “No! It’s a horse!” That’s how we make learning fun. Only sometimes I’ll hold up what I think is a horse, pretend it’s a hippopotamus, and it turns out to be a moose.

I was in a drugstore yesterday and the boy in front of me in line was shirtless – but he was BUYING shirts, a three-pack of those Hanes underwear T-shirts. Here are my questions: Does the fact that he was purchasing shirts negate the “no shirt, no shoes, no service” rule? He began opening the package as soon as the cashier handed it back to him, after ringing it up, so maybe the fact that he was only shirtless for PART of the time he was in the store makes it okay. More importantly, WHAT could possibly have happened? He couldn’t just have spilled something on the shirt, or ripped it in some way – in that situation I have to imagine he would keep the shirt on while buying new shirts. The shirt he was wearing must have been DESTROYED in some fashion, and destroyed while he was far enough away from home that going home and getting a new shirt wasn’t an option. He clearly needed a shirt immediately, thus the new shirt purchases: if he was just wandering around shirtless, why enter the drugstore and buy shirts? He must have been wearing a shirt and then it somehow became UNWEARABLE, but whatever happened wasn’t traumatizing enough to make him go home. He was ready for more shirt-destroying action.

The fact that I cannot keep myself from listening to my iPod at a level that is without a doubt DEVASTATING my hearing helps me understand people who keep smoking. Sometimes I make it halfway to the bus stop – the bus stop across the street from my apartment – without turning my iPod all the way up. Sometimes I actually make it onto the bus.

Sometimes when I’m walking through a parking lot, I’ll pass a giant truck, and I catch myself thinking that if the truck were to suddenly roll towards me, I could stop it. Not duck out of the way. Stop it. With my super-strength, I guess. I’m afraid that’s how I’d actually react in an emergency – as if I possess superpowers.

I like how watching television online has tricked me into watching commercials again.

It embarrasses me when I go to the grocery store and some item I’m buying doesn’t ring up, and the cashier asks me how much it is, and if my life depended on it, I couldn’t tell her. I can’t even give her a ballpark number. I would pay anywhere between $1 and $20 for hummus. I have no idea. I’m not like this with anything else – I know how much soap and jeans and computers cost. I think I already feel so guilty as soon as I enter a grocery store – between trying to eat locally and healthfully and mindfully ALL AT ONCE, which is DIFFICULT – that I’m unwilling to also make myself feel guilty for the amount of money I spend, or I might have to start conducting my grocery shopping while weeping.

I have this theory that famous people say insane things because they’ve actually forgotten what sounds relatable. They just have no conception of how their words are coming across – like when professional athletes talk about their contracts. Instead of saying, reasonably, “I’m going to try to make as much money as I can, because I don’t know how long my career will last, and hey, everyone loves money,” they say things like, “I need to take care of my family.” I think they’re trying to couch it in relatable terms; they’re trying to say, “I’m a normal guy! My concerns are your concerns!” But it comes off like, “I’m sorry, I’m going to need MILLIONS OF DOLLARS to prevent my family from starving to death.”