Julie and the Impossible Table

There is actually a very famous optical illusion that uses tables - or, more precisely, table-tops to trick us into thinking two different looking shapes are in fact one and the same.

It's weird - both of the tables, even though the one on the left appears to be longer and thinner, are precisely the same shape and size. There is a great little animation proving it on Mighty Optical Illusions.

In the meantime, Julie seems to have created her own paradoxical table.

One evening, we were playing Scrabble. Julie was in 'thinking mode', and was resting her chin on her hand, while the elbow was on the table. However, she shifted slightly, and her elbow slipped off the table.

So... the middle of the table would also be the edge of the table.
Riiight... MC Escher would be proud.

It's close, but this is a real table that doesn't quite look right...

I found this on Gizmag
http://www.gizmag.com/optical-illusion-table/24239/

Cause and effect overturned

Julie likes to enter competitions in the magazines she buys, the sort where there are loads of puzzles and prizes of varying worth. I'm not condemning this, not at all. I enter prize draws whenever I can myself. The main difference between our habits is that hers come from printed magazines and mine are generally found online.

We haven't won any holidays yet, although we have both got some decent prizes. I have won a fair few books and Julie got various games. My personal best was a brand new blender and a month's supply of Greek yoghurts. The yoghurts were rather tasty, although after a month of them, I was glad to see the back of them. My sister was a happy camper though; she had just moved into a new flat and called dibs on the blender. As we already had one blender, one which didn't see much in the way of action, it made sense for me to pass the blender over to a suddenly cheerful sibling.

Julie, in the meantime, stayed with the gaming theme for her top prize - a Mario Kart Nintendo Wii box set. Sweet. It's not my wife's cup of tea, but I was most definitely chuffed to bits.

Some time after Julie's big win, her brother came round for a visit. It didn't take long for the subject of the win to be raised. Never mind the pride and excitement, it's a little difficult to cover up a gaming console when it's attached to the front of the TV...

Colin, Julie's brother, was properly pleased for her, and asked how she had managed to win it. Julie then explained that it was one of the many contests she played for in her magazines. In this case, a sudoku puzzle magazine. As we chatted about the contests, we both had to admit that while we had had a few wins, it was more often the case that we didn't win anything. In fact, Julie has yet to win anything from any magazine other than the sudoku one. It's a little frustrating, as there are lots of decent prizes in the other periodicals. However, as I have pointed out a few times, it's all down to how many people actually enter the competitions. The sudoku puzzles are very specific, which means the fewer people chancing their luck have better odds. It hasn't put Julie off them though. As she says, you have to be in it to win it.

Well, that's not strictly true. What Julie  actually said was this:

I'm not sure, but beneath the loopy language, I have a feeling Julie just violated the laws of time and space...

An unnaturally natural explanation

Here's the thing: Julie does have her Little Moments. Those times when the only hope anyone talking to her has of making it through alive is by riding the wave, so to speak. Just let it wash over you and then come bobbing back up like a seabird on a rough ocean.

Well, that's not strictly true. In my case, I'm generally in a desperate hurry to write down everything Julie is saying before my pen spontaneously combusts...
So, there I was, notepad at home, but a scrap of paper dredged from my pocket and pressed into service. Smoke was starting to emerge from my pen, as Gem overtook Gem, when - BAM! Julie decided to engage in a little self-analysis.

Do excuse me - I think my brain just exploded...

Julie and the Gems of Time

First up, I need to take a few deep breaths. I did something at the weekend which was stupid, irresponsible and has me beating my head against the walls.* I lost one of my Gem notepads, one which contains many, many fine Gems, including at least two platyposts. There has already been some discussion over on our Facebook page, so if you want to pop along and berate me or commiserate with me, then feel free.
The one glimmer of light in this debacle is that I can remember one Gem perfectly.

Now, Julie has a sort of love/hate relationship with this blog. On the one hand, it's a tad embarrassing for her. On the other hand, she's actually rather pleased and touched** that so many people find her witty, charming and entertaining. So it is, then, that Julie likes to know what I have posted and how I have presented it. Some days I'll nail it and other days I'll get an unexpected smack around the back of the head. Normally, the question is a supremely cynical, "So, what have you said about me today?" However, there can be occasions when Julie isn't quite so guarded about how she's phrasing things (yeah, I know, I know).

...and then there are times when I have to jump into a TARDIS to find out what I'm posting. Apparently.

* Gently. I'm not into pain.
** Yes, a lot of people would say Julie is touched...

Einstein gets a headache.

During a working, week, our habit is to sit down quietly for a while when we get home. Sometimes, it's on our own, sometimes we sit together and have a cup of tea and a chat on how our days have been. For me, this normally doesn't take long, as work in a warehouse doesn't lend itself to stimulating conversation. Julie works in a more dynamic environment and there's usually plenty to talk about; she's always busy and there's plenty of idiots to laugh/moan about.
One day, we sat in the lounge and Julie was rather subdued. Concerned, I asked if she was alright. She was fine, but it appears that she'd had something of a hectic day and was pretty knackered. Then again, as Julie put it....

Julie saw me giving her The Look and said, "What? That makes sense, doesn't it?"
No, love, I'm afraid it doesn't. I mean, I know Einstein said that time was relative, but I don't think he meant it that way...
Besides which, hasn't some clever set of scientists just proved that time travel is impossible? Spoilsports...

Something fishy about these beliefs.

If Julie has a fault, it lies in not letting go of an idea once it has taken root, even when evidence to the contrary is provided. In a less-intelligent person (and Julie is intelligent and quick-witted), this would mean being unable to count up to ten - or perhaps being able to count up to thirteen. And a propensity for playing the banjo.

The main problem is Julie gets lost with details of new stuff, and I'm not that good at explaining things. You may have noticed this.
For example, take this occasion. We were in a cafe and talking about food in general. Like any couple, there are things that one likes that the other one dislikes. I like Marmite; Julie doesn't. Julie loves ketchup; I can't stand it.

The big one is seafood. In the main, I absolutely love it, and if I haven't tasted it, then I'll at least give it a try. Julie, on the other hand, is very much a white fish person and only likes prawns if they come with lettuce and 1000 island dressing.
Unfortunately, things that live in the sea suffer from Julie's tendency to stick with certain notions. In this case, it's that everything in the sea is a fish.

Cue lengthy, involved diatribe on what a fish is - and isn't. All followed up with this.

Well, 'fair enough', I laughed - and then launched back into my attempts at education. When we got to crustaceans - specifically crabs - Julie began talking animatedly about how she couldn't stand them. When I asked her what crabs were, she replied that they were 'sea creatures'.
I pointed out that she had just contradicted her earlier comment about everything in the sea being 'fish', and she then uttered the following Gem:

I gave up at that point.

Flexible/inflexible

Every now and then, Julie will come out with something truly paradoxical. If you look at each word and even (sometimes) some basic elements of what has been said, they will make perfect sense. It's only when you put it all together, look at it as a whole and compare it with what you know of the situation and of Julie that it becomes a real Derailment.*

See? Everything's going tickety-boo and then along comes that final phrase and suddenly you find your brain has gone all BSOD.**

*So called because a random comment from Julie can do to your thought processes what a tree-trunk across a line can do to a speeding locomotive.

**BSOD Blue Screen Of Death - massive PC failure for non-techies and smug Apple owners.

Multiple personality disagreement alert.

Julie is fairly aware of what she does, but finds trouble in stopping herself from doing it. Her usual explanation is that her mouth goes faster than her brain and has to make stuff up while the next instructions come through. This is all well and good when she's with me or my family, but it does make her feel a little self-conscious when she goes off on one of her little mental trip-outs in public.

Or, as Julie herself put it....

Luckily though, Julie does enjoy the notoriety these Gems bring, so we're not going to be running short any time soon.

Have a great weekend!

Spike.

Who's the daddy? Never mind that - who's the mummy?

I'm a selfish so-and-so. I like to sleep at night, do mostly what I want to in the evenings and at weekends, spend what little money I have in a manner of my choosing and, most of all, have Julie all to myself. Hence, I've never been what you could call a family man.
Generally, Julie does agree with me. Especially when it comes to the lack of money and sleep. There are occasions though when the sight of a little baby gurgling away, happy in the knowledge that the contents of its nappy are someone else's problem, will make Julie say, "Awwwwwwww!" and, sometimes, "I wanna baby!"
At such times, a steady quelling look from me will suffice to quash such feelings. Although it does have to be said that at our age, it's pretty much a moot point by now.

So, when Julie replies, "I'm pregnant!" to my request of  "surprise me", you will usually find me grimacing at such a time-worn rejoinder.
Not so this time...

In case you were wondering (like I was), Julie was referring to the possibility of surrogate motherhood. It's still a ropey link, but at least it's not nearly as bizarre now...

Say you, say what??

Julie is a master of the double-take.
Hmm... let me rephrase that; Julie is a master of causing double-takes. A lot of what she says sounds perfectly fine until your brain catches up with your ears and you're suddenly left baffled and bereft of logic.

For example...

The case for the prosecution rests, m'lud. 

M'lud? Oh dear, I think we've broken another one - can we have a new judge, please? One with a flexible brain?

French confusing in the UK

Well, I'm going to have to attempt some sort of explanation here, I think.
Quite often, Julie's Gems have a twisted sort of internal logic and such is the case here. The first sentence is clear enough; my wife is confessing a near-total lack of knowledge of French persons.
Now, the second sentence...
....
....
....
Nope. I got nothing apart from a whole bunch of Paradox wrapped up in a pretty layer of Bafflement. With a bow.

(not me, by the way)

(although I had the same baffled look)