The last couple weeks I have been away from my constant companions Computer and Stable Internet Connection.  It's kind of been lovely to be disconnected from the webz a bit to explore pretty incredible landscapes and reconnect with friends and to meet new people.

While I was in SF my friend and host extraordinaire (hi, j!) allowed me to meet a group of people she meets with who are all in different stages but all seeking to pursue their entrepreneurial/post-job that I trained for with many years of schooling dreams.  They generously let me sit in and patiently answered my "how is that going to work" type questions.

These are some inspiring folks, yo. 

At one point we were talking about the fearsome reality of starting one's own business, the capital risk, the looming shadow of failure and usually I'm the first person who will tell that it is terrible and terribly hard.  But out of my mouth came something to the effect of, "if my parents can speak limited English and no higher education can run an African American wig store, you can totally do it! Sure, their lives were terrible but if they can run a small business so can you!" I may have also given a mini cheer and a self high five (which is just clapping, as my roomie - the pioneer of the self high five- has explained).

Hanging out with entrepreneurs is dangerous.  It makes me want to start some foolishness.  But the main thing I envy is their clear vision and desire for a specific project.  Because they have that, every decision they make can be seen in light of whether it helps or hurts their goal.  Lent has been good for me in this respect.  It's been this forced time of reflection, at times horrifyingly revealing but I'm really grateful for it. Hopefully, unlike U2, I find what I am looking for.  Until then I look forward to celebrating Easter soon and am getting myself ready for this time of awesome funemployment to end. 

Why blog?

One of the nice things about Lent is forcing myself to set aside time to really reflect -- which is partly why I quit in the first place but got distracted by all the great fun I was having and I kept putting it off.  It's led to some increased blogging (I just checked -- silence from 10/2009 to 8/2010! whoa!) as I try to work out the purpose of this precious time post working life pre-new-working life.  I think most people would be journaling and expressing their thoughts and feelings so that they could review and reflect over their journey.  I am not one of those people, I am a terrible journaler and that has led to me wondering why I blog -- especially since I'm naturally a pretty guarded person (as evidenced by the, let's be honest, small talk nature of the blog in the past -- which is valid and valuable for different reasons, but tangent).

During this season of waiting, I got a lot of questions regarding why and how and what's going on.  And I usually answered with both the practical and spiritual reasons (I think if I had answered a few years ago, I wouldn't have as easily shared the spiritual reasons, so growth?)  and found it to be really good for the conversation and the relationship. It's a perfect segue into how I've been really challenged by God to trust him.  Unfortunately, the answers were often jumbled and a little incoherent as I tried to verbalize things in a way that made sense. 

After some turning it over in my brain, the blog seems to have become my way of having a really, really, really, slow but more coherent conversation.  I can put together some reflections but not burden a friend or acquaintance with nebulously formed thoughts or even any thoughts at all if they were just making small talk and if they don't find it interesting or care they can move on, no worries or obligation, but clearly I think I'm trying to create a safe virtual equivalent of the moments of making eye contact and acknowledging an understanding that Banrock described in his comment last week.  Considering that I write from the hip for this blog and sometimes I am shocked at how rambling my personal writing has gotten since college, I shudder to imagine how disjointed my verbal expressions must be. Ah well.  We must all suffer a little bit for friendship.

"Life is pain, your highness! Anyone that tells you different is trying to sell you something!" Westley, from the Princess Bride

"Well, it's safe to dance! Yes, it's safe to dance!" - Safety Dance, Men in Hats

Forcing myself to engage in continued reflection during this Lenten season has resulted in these thoughts to continue to percolate in the back of my mind while I've also been contemplating how to go about finding the story I want to live for my life.  I think I've been meandering a bit in the desert in these past few weeks because as more people ask me what I want to do, I have become less and less certain.  I've been trying to figure out how to live a life of that is a meaningful story (part of the reason why I quit) and I guess I was hoping for an epiphany of some sort about what I want to do, how I am supposed to live my life, and I didn't get quite what I was looking for.  No grand calling, no vision of a career, no clarity about my skills and abilities.  I'm a little disappointed but honestly I think I've been as happy as a pig in slop leisurely enjoying my life right now.  Which I know can't continue, and I had faith that even without a sense of purpose in my daily job I would be able to lead a quiet and meaningful life (probably through the relationships and community), so I started to think about what job could be the least painful and least negative impact on the world but also provide room for community.  It's funny looking at that sentence, it's awfully similar to the rationalization for entering into the law (except for the community part). 

The trouble with engaging in reflecting on your thoughts is that there are moments where you see yourself horrifyingly clearly.  Last week, the more I thought about it the more I realized I don't really have a grand desire for my life, which didn't bother me -- secretly I was pleased, it meant I could just go about my day without worrying if I was supposed to do more (though I wondered why God didn't seem to bother to give me a direction or even a hint of which path to follow).  And then while reading a helpful though terribly titled book, it hit me that I have ordered my life around "pain management" and that instead of making my life about serving God, I was really expecting God to serve me. 

I didn't know it but my past philosophy in life was probably closer to: the world is an f'd up place, be prepared to the best of your ability, hopefully God will provide the path that leads to least amount of suffering and since suffering in this world can't be avoided, He will be the lantern in the dark.  What a dark and depressing philosophy of life.  I mean, I still believed in good things and really, I delight in so many things in this life that I don't think I really, realized how fundamentally my approach to God was rather depressing.  Maybe that's why I hate the idea of needing and being needed, there's this part of me that recognizes you basically open yourself up this open channel that disappointment and pain can travel between. 

I saw the dog again this past weekend that led to my dog-poop epiphany from a few weeks ago.  As I watched her joyously leap, run, and wag that tail, seeing her again I think I began to reframe her joy. I used to see her and think about how I could never have a dog because of all the physical needs a dog has and the emotional neediness it has in wanting their humans around all the time.  But this weekend, I think I began to truly understand a little bit more of the frame of heart that dog owners' might have, there may be some 'neediness' and too much of said neediness may be bad, but it's also fundamentally about the dogs' desire to be with us. What an intoxicating expression of joy and love to be met with that nearly every night.  Crazy.  (But just to be clear, I'm still not down with poop.)

Anyways, I think I'm still mulling things over and trying to figure things out.  But it's been rather freeing to truly desire to follow Jesus rather than have him help me avoid personal pain (and maybe help alleviate pain in others); decisions that aren't about my immediate happiness are easier to make. I may still end up pursuing a quiet life or a job that is less than satisfying but the why and how I'm there will make all the difference.

My poor shriveled heart, hopefully now that I'm allowing it to roam free I can actually follow it. 

I've been feeling more than a bit whiny, shallow, navel-gazey, needy, self-righteous and crabby this past week.  So focusing on some lovely things today.

• (pic from the Messiah Sing a Long at the Walt Disney Concert Hall)  Singing Loudly, Earnestly, and Joyfully to Cheesy and Genius Musicals (hello, late night Newsies soundtrack sing-a-long have you met Messiah Sing a Long?).  There's something about song and music that just hits my brain and heart differently.  When Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge was new and strange and wonderful, there were several Ewan McGregor interviews dealing with how something so stupid and cheesy when merely recited can hit you with a punch or be experienced as emotionally authentic when experienced as a good song.  Okay, it doesn't work with everything (e.g. Rebecca Black's "Friday") but I think the fundamental point is sound. 

• I'm not sure what flowers these are, but I love them. Dahlias? I wish I was less practical and bought more flowers when I was employed.  I often thought that their lack of practicality and inevitable death meant I should be responsible and refrain from purchasing them for myself (or even others, I regret not buying them more for those around me).  Thinking about flowers really makes me want to laugh in delight and thankfulness for beautiful, foolish things, and God's extravagant grace.  But also, I laugh at myself.  I think in the back of my head I want to be Anne of Green Gables who loves beautiful things and helps those around her to see the bright wonders of the world, with her whimsy and charm that is the icing to the kind and loving person she is on the inside.  But in my heart I know I am more like Marilla, minus the hardworking part for now.  At least I'm less of a pill than Marilla.  ... I hope. 

• The Generosity of Friends (old and new).  Whenever I take pause to reflect (not nearly often enough), I am always astounded by the generosity of my friends. They have offered their time, shared their struggles, put up with my love of puns and obsessions, allowed me to meet their families, fed me, prayed for me, inspired me, given fashion tips, tempted me with their baking skillz, given encouragement, labored with me, forgiven me, enthusiastically shared music and television and reading recommendations, provided hugs, challenged me, and so much more.  I definitely get more than I give in pretty much everything.  I think I should work on that.  I'll probably be asking you for some help on that. (joke! but seriously. I am in awe of the people I have been blessed to know.)

• (Hummus from the Hummus Place many years ago. I miss this so much.  Any leads on anything similar in Los Angeles will be more than appreciated) Access to Diverse and Delicious Foods and the Taste Buds to Enjoy Them.   My heart and stomach rejoices though my scale mourns. Yay, food!

• (adorable baby "reading" a children's korean book. sadly it may be up for debate whose korean skills are superior, mine or baby's :T) Libraries!  I've always been a lover of books and what a delight it is that there as a society we provide the means to allow people to continue to grow and learn and be challenged and entertained, no matter the economic or intellectual status.  This is kind of amazing.  My world is so much bigger because one day I might decide to wander over to the religion section, the travel section, history, fiction, or whatever else might catch my eye and read! And I can take it home with me for what feels like free merely to return it a few weeks after.  I love it.

• The Internets.  As ridiculous and shallow and stupid the interwebs can be (whenever I make the mistake of reading youtube comments I despair for humanity) I am grateful to it for the tools that help me keep far flung friends in my sphere; for the wise, humorous, and insightful blogs my buddies have; the capability to learn and connect with so many different topics (hi, wikipedia!); to chat and spew nonsense with my friends in real time (hi gchat! and i still think of you fondly:icq and aim) and of course xkcd. My life is more complete with XKCD in it

"Everybody has a secret world inside of them.  All of the people in the whole world.  I mean everybody.  No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds.  Not just one world. Hundreds of them.  Thousands, maybe." Neil Gaiman, Sandman.

In about forty five minutes I'm going to have dim sum with an acquaintance and several strangers. In my heart of hearts, I don't want to go.  While I generally like people I think it's always a bit of a struggle for me to connect with people without an anchor person to help steady the way for me.  But I've been trying very hard recently to connect with people who I might not naturally ease into friendship with: usually those peeps that seem very put together and all together normal are the ones that I have the hardest time connecting to, it's like they have this shiny veneer of normalcy that makes it hard to attach those weak roots that eventually grow into friendship.  They seem perfectly nice but what will we talk about?  

I think other people express this idea in perhaps more negative terms. There's the complaint I've heard multiple times that most Korean American Christians are the same and "boring" (from several sources, usually by other KACs, but always by guys. Interesting.).  Or the idea that all happy families are all alike though every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.  [SN-- I utterly hated Anna Karenina, but that's a great opening line.]  Or whatever.  And I think it may have expressed itself in my desire to find a church that didn't feel so "yuppie" -- though I totes ended up there.

Last night's episode of Community was its usual fun and funny self, but its thoughts on isolation and connection made me sigh with satisfaction, a silly show with depth is one of my favorite things in the world.  In last night's episode they explored the nature of conversation, the lies we tell ourselves, the struggle to present to the world this image of ourselves for other people that prevents people from knowing who we really are, and the crutches we use to try to connect with the people around us.  As I watched the two characters, one who is an uber-nerd who connects through references to pop culture and the "normal" confident character interact it was a good reminder to me that connecting with people is a minor miracle at times.  We're such fragile fascinating creatures.

Okay. off to go put my money where my mouth is and try to not scare off a bunch of strangers with my weirdness.

There's a scene in Community where a slightly dim Troy realizes that though cookies are wonderful, eating a giant cookie may be too much of a good thing. A silly little gag that I've been thinking about lately.  Sometimes I feel as dumb as that character about the obvious things that keep distracting me from what I want.

I've got a big appetite. I admit it.  I love food.  Too much.  Having a big appetite doesn't mean it's limited to food.  Books. Facts. Skills. Serial Dramas That Always Get Canceled Before Their Time.  Send me to that figurative all you can eat buffet cuz mama always wants more.  But appetite isn't the same as hunger, you know.  All these things can and do satisfy some needs somewhere I am sure but my addictive personality has assured that I consume as much as possible whenever it's possible. 

It wasn't until we started thinking about Lent for this year that I realized that my life recently has been revolving around consumption more and more.  Which is kind of funny when I've done my fair share tsk-tsking about the consumer driven culture we live in. 

I may not be buying the latest greatest phone or trendy clothes but in recent weeks my days have been filled with the consumption of food, knowledge, skills, sights, and sounds.  Followed up with thinking about what else do I need to get tp make my life more convenient or interesting.  What is the next dish I need to try? Or what is the newest television/historical/musical/factual obsession I will learn everything about.  I'm reminding myself these days that it's great but not that important. 

When I first left the firm there was a lot of writing and a lot of thinking and a lot of connecting and a lot of travel and a lot of communicating to balance out my natural tendency to consume everything I could about this world.  In recent weeks, though, it's been an all gus fest.  What can gus buy, eat, learn, or do? 

A friend of mine asked me why I feel compelled to fill my life with information.  I rather flippantly replied that it's because I'm a nerd.  But the more I think about it, the more I think it's true.  The world is an interesting place and people are interesting and over the expanse of time and geography there is so much that we'll never know or get to or experience and that makes me a little bit sad.  And then you throw in fiction and art and music and you know that you will always be missing out.  It's okay, but I feel a little bit richer and a little bit more satisfied feeling I've devoured a bit more the world has to offer -- whether it be learning about pretty fabrics, eating fresh pasta, dancing and singing to a catchy song, or learning a bit of local history.

In thinking about fasting and feasting for this Lent I was struggling to think about what to give up.  In the past I've done the meat thing, internet time, etc, etc. But I realized what I really find myself wanting to let go of is my appetite for the many inconsequential but interesting things the world is offering up to me.  And to also, hopefully, create rather than simply stuff my metaphorical face. 

Mike Birbiglia is an awesome stand up comic who embraces his awkwardness to a degree to which I can only dream.  I have only the non lucrative awkwardness that permeates my life.  His thoughts on cable television and the internet are a good reminder for me and this lenten season. (just replace cable tv to pretty much my google reader subscriptions and my library hauls)

From Sleepwalk with Me and Other Painfully True Stories:

"I have cable TV in my apartment now and it's sucking my life away.  Because it makes me think things are that are unimportant are really important.  I'm like, I have to know about the sexiest music videos from the eighties.  What would happen if I didn't know about the sexiest music videos from the eighties? Would that mean I'm not sexy? E! answers questions that you were never going to ask, like, "I wonder how the show Full House was made?" Oh, in a studio with sets designed to look like the inside of a house? Fascinating!

...

"The Internet, much like cable TV, is an infinite well of nothingness.  And when you're there, you're convinced that it's something.  It's like getting drunk.  You're like, I'm gonna go over here. And over there ... and over here!  And after four hours, you're like, I don't even know what happened.  I gotta clear my history."

And now after some thinking
I'd say I'd rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery
Serving something beyond me 

- fleet foxes

⁹ Now about your love for one another we do not need to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other. ¹⁰ And in fact, you do love all of God’s family throughout Macedonia. Yet we urge you, brothers and sisters, to do so more and more, ¹¹ and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, ¹² so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.

- 1 Thessalonians 4:9-12

monday musings.

In Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, he suggests that a meaningful life, a life with lasting impact might be best created and understood with the lens of the narrative structure.  He compares life to a story -- no one remembers nor wants to spend time with a story about the guy who wants a Volkswagen, doesn't really overcome anything and at the end drives away with the car.  He suggests that an interesting story/life has characters that want something that is more meaningful than a reliably built vehicle and suffer/overcome obstacles to achieve it.

I read the book a year ago and it so moved and excited me that it started me on the path I am on now. I've stalled a bit though and I've been thinking a lot about what it is that I actually want.  I want to live a life that's more interesting than having accomplished a fully funded retirement plan but I've been really enjoying my life of limbo.  But recently my thoughts have been dwelling on what it is that I actually desire -- prompted by friends, a book on goals, and the Bible.

The people around me have such noble desires. And also, while I haven't read Miller's book in a year other sources seem to be reminding me about the importance of evaluating my desires.  A book on goals, conveniently titled  Goals!, also emphasized how important desire was in accomplishing goals -- in fact it stated that "only when you develop an intense burning desire for your goals will you have the energy and the internal drive to overcome al the obstacles that will arise in your path."

When I read that sentence it reminded me of the premise of Miller's book and underscored that it's been a year and all I really established and acted on was what I don't want. (Sure I've been enjoying myself thoroughly but this limbo is going to have to end one day. Sigh).  And I realized too that one of my struggles is that in my heart of hearts I'm a little disappointed in myself for not wanting the things I think I should want.  I guess it's the realization that maybe I am the person who wants to live that boring life pursuing the Volkswagen with only obstacle being a low speed bump of a sales person or interest rates or something.  How anticlimactic.  But if I'm honest with myself, while I want to live a life that honors God, I also want the life I lead now -- it's kind of awesome to read, learn, get good sleep, cook, eat, play, take classes… there's just so much in this world to experience, you know?  It's just not (a) sustainable nor (b) that interesting/meaningful, I guess.

But then again, a friend started me mulling on 1 Thessalonians 4:11 and the admonition of seeking after a quiet life.  It's a tough verse for me -- it kind of plays to my strengths "make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands" … "so that you will not be dependent on anybody."  Verses 9 and 10 focus on the importance of continuing and increasing in love for one another.  Maybe I need to make my peace with the mundanity of the desires of my heart, or maybe acknowledge that an interesting story also exists in the relationships of the characters that enter into my life?  But honestly this life of mundane desires is only palatable with the knowledge and faith that it serves a greater purpose. Though I suspect I also have the freedom to make big splashes and a more compelling story as well by choosing to be the person I want to be. Drat. That makes no sense, does it.  Ugh, it's so strange not knowing what I want.

Go listen to the Helplessness Blues. Free download and been on my mind lately. I need to start reviewing my posts before I throw them up here. ah well. Tomorrow!

Helplessness Blues, Fleet Foxes

I was raised up believing
I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes
Unique in each way you can see

And now after some thinking
I'd say I'd rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery
Serving something beyond me

But I don't, I don't know what that will be
I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

What's my name, what's my station
Oh just tell me what I should do
I don't need to be kind to the armies of night
That would do such injustice to you

Or bow down and be grateful
And say "Sure take all that you see"
To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls
And determine my future for me

And I don't, I don't know who to believe
I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

If I know only one thing
It's that every thing that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable
Often I barely can speak

Yeah I'm tongue tied and dizzy
And I can't keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues?
Why should I wait for anyone else?

And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf
I'll come back to you someday soon myself

If I had an orchard
I'd work till I'm raw
If i had an orchard
I'd work till I'm sore

And you would wait tables
And soon run the store

Gold hair in the sunlight
My light in the dawn
If I had an orchard
I'd work till I'm sore

If I had an orchard
I'd work till I'm sore

Someday I'll be
Like the man on the screen

I know it's ridiculous, but I'm worried about going blues dancing tonight.  Not because I'm afraid I look silly (that never stopped me before) or because I'm afraid of creepy guys (generally harmless) or because now I've interacted with these people enough that my limited small talk repertoire is running low (I'm used to being awkward). 

I'm a little embarrassed to admit this but since it's black history month I might as well come out with it.  I'm …. worried about whether or not I'm participating in culturally co-opting a traditionally African-American music and dance for basically white, yuppie America.  (Such a yuppie worry, I hate to even commit it to blogpost).

It's a little disconcerting to hear a young white dance instructor telling us that blues music is rooted in the pain of black of america, of slavery and jim crow and that we need to move and express that intensity in the music.  I look around and everyone is pretty much white (a few asian americans and a few Latinos who came from the swing dance community).  Does this bother me only because Blues music and is no longer the cultural expression of most black americans?  Should I accept it as having gone the way of jazz? Or of any popular musical expression of society, eventually it won't be the dominant force and it too will fade away to be kept alive by an obscure group of fans regardless of ethnic or cultural background?

Maybe I should just be grateful that the music exists and that I can enjoy it and stop overthinking it.  But I hate it when I see images of asia and the "orient" as an"exotic" pop culture adoption -- from Gwen Stefani's Harajuku girls to even Puccini's Madame Butterfly it bothers me.

And there's the fact I actually really do dig it.  I love the music, I love the history behind it, I love that when America refused to acknowledge black americans as fully human, nothing could stop them from creating music and dance: what could be more fundamentally human than that?  I love that we dance to it -- that I can express my kinship with the song and communicate that with my dance partner, that there's agreement that we will have a "conversation" about the music.  And I believe art can cross any racial, ethnic, cultural or historical walls people may build up so there's that too sitting there conflicting with my desire to be culturally sensitive.

Sigh, but feeling this way doesn't stop me from being concerned about not being some cultural conquistador riding in and whitewashing something till it's acceptable to mainstream america. 

blergh.  I'm going to listen to some Nina Simone and turn this around some more in my head.

Get your own: http://www.npr.org/valentine/

It began with dog poop.

Self awareness doesn't come upon us out of nowhere.  As startling and as illuminating as lightning is, it comes about only when the circumstances are ripe.  You look around and you can feel it in the atmosphere, something is charged up, clouds fill the air, and then crack! A flash!

For me, moments of self awareness overtake me as I go about my life and catch me off guard.  But if I look around I can often identify the conditions and circumstances that might have set things in motion.

Recently, some deep thoughts have been floating around in my head and heart and it's been a struggle to get them tied down into words.  But I know when it started, one week ago with a dog and her poop.

When I quit my job, I quit after being dissatisfied for many years but also because I came to realize that if you evaluate my life my god hasn't been the Lord that I profess but the one of personal security and comfort.  I wrestled with and decided to take a risk, quit, and trust God.  It's been absolutely lovely in this post job, pre freak out phase. 

But I've come to realize that maybe the true root of my all consuming desire for financial security was not fear of a poorly funded retirement account but a fear of  … needing? … powerlessness? … vulnerability? … lack of freedom?  I'm not even sure of the correct word to describe it… but it's something.

Last week, I happily helped out a friend when she needed someone to keep an eye on her dog.  While I'm happy to help out, I'm not exactly a dog person. I know there are those that delight at the prospect of basking, even temporarily, in the love and affection of a pup.  I am not one of those people.  Dogs are great in theory, but in reality they have so many needs! Affection! Physical care! Shots! Grooming!  Etc.! Plus, they break one of my cardinal rules --> take care of your own poop. 

The puppy and I of course came to an understanding, she got all up in my face and I put up with it with good nature.  And I couldn't help but marvel at how utterly happy she was that I, the temporary human, was around.  At least until she pooped on our walk, and I had to clean it up.  Seriously, dog owners, there must be a better way than plastic bag over the poop. ick. 

But as I carried the poop, while muttering my opinion of the matter to the dog, my mindset shifted a bit.  By this simple act I was in a position that I think I unconsciously avoid whenever I can -- to need and be needed, these are the ties that bind us together in relationships and to God.  I thought I acknowledged, accepted, and acted out my need for God a long time ago, but maybe that's not true.

I'm realizing more and more that my life has been geared towards an end goal of relying on myself in many different ways.  For instance, I managed my own finances after high school and paid my own way through college, entertaining myself by engaging in activities and outings by myself, emotionally never getting too dependent on anyone as my sole source of support. 

It's weird reflecting on this because it's an absolutely ridiculous position to take, no? I've taken so much from God, friends, and family (as well as offering of myself without hesitation as well), but still I can't shake the feeling that I must protect my freedom, and that means flying solo whenever and wherever possible.

Perhaps it's not surprising that I remain single. 

In any case, maybe quitting wasn't about letting go of my idol of security.  Maybe quitting is going to help me let go of the idols of "freedom", of defending against needing and the disappointment when I or others fail, of the idol of power, of the idol of … Self? All I know is I want to be like that puppy, dependent on God and rejoicing in that dependency.  Knowing and accepting and … loving being dependent on God's mercy and grace?  Terrifyingly awesome.  

As a youngster, I was (still am?) very naive. When I was a freshman in high school I fell for the old trick, "Did you know that gullible isn't in the dictionary?" My sincere response: "Really? that's odd, were you using an abridged dictionary?"