I must tear myself away from obsessively watching the 12 photo slideshow of my dream house which I discovered on my lunch hour today, so in an effort to divert my attention, I thought I'd talk about small world-ism.
The world is a massive place, stuffed wih billions of people. Yet, in my 31 years I've encountered quite a few small world-isms, and heard some from others which make me feel as if the world's population must be rather overestimated. That, and perhaps the world, like my ass, is flat.
My first run in with small world-ism didn't actually involve me, not directly anyway. My uncle was a cop in downtown D.C., and pulled over a man who made an illegal left turn. Upon inspecting the man's driver's license, my uncle noticed that he was from Harrisburg, PA, hometown of amazing, witty, and charming folk. They got to talking, as it transpires, the illegal turner was our family dentist. Of all the cops in DC, he chose to make a wrong turn in front of my uncle.
The other day, again, on my lunch hour, I had a random look at a work-related email that I would usually delete. A name on a spreadsheet attached to the email caught my eye, as it was a unique one that matched that of a girl with whom I went to high school. I do some grade-A stalker googling, and it turns out, this girl, now presumably a woman, is in fact from my dinky wee high school near the capital of PA. She wandered out of our small town, got her PhD from a university down the road from me here in the UK, and is now registered at my university. It would be weird to meet another Pennsylvanian here, let alone an acquaintance from my own high school.
I've saved the best for last, and as it involves a blogger, you simply must pay attention. Soon after I started blogging, I was waxing unlyrical about my life here in the UK. One of my most very favourite bloggers ever, AmyEsq (Amy or those associated with her, if you read this, please tell me if/where you're blogging now - I've had a brain lapse), commented that she was pretty sure she was familiar with one of my photos, that of a pier. We exchanged some emails on the subject, and as it happens, Amy's husband, a young British guy of surely dazzling intellect, went to university in my UK seaside town. The university I slave for. As a matter of fact, he was a student of my department, with lectures in my building! Tell me, does it get more small world-ish than that?
I'm not trying to increase audience participation, but I would like to know of your small world-isms. That way when I'm at a party and can think of nothing to say, I can label you as "my friend" so that I can recount your tale and others can gasp in astonishment at its wonder.