Sometimes I love miscommunications. I've noticed they seem to be pretty prevalent among text messages. Sarcasm, not being able to explain yourself, misspelling of words, and finally simple definitions don't always come across as intended. My mom sent me a message asking me if I have had to replace my stylist. Thankfully I haven't. She was the first person I went to out here and I've gone back to her every 8 weeks for a haircut. I simply replied no and why? The next day my mom texted me...because mine died...
Hers died? Wow! I'm pretty sure her HAIRstylist didn't die...so I asked myself what is she talking about? Once again I made an assumption, I decided she must be talking about her Chi Straightener and calling it a "stylist." Silly mom...I laughed pretty hard about this and explained the whole story to Tanner because I thought it was hilarious. After I had explained the entire story in serious detail, he thought I was talking about a "stylus" for my cell phone (you know that little pen that is used for the touch screen.) I laughed at our miscommunication...then texted my mom back this...are you talking about your hairstylist or your chi straightener? Because originally I thought you were talking about the girl who cuts my hair.
She responded, no, the stylist for my phone...haha.
Hers died? Wow! I'm pretty sure her HAIRstylist didn't die...so I asked myself what is she talking about? Once again I made an assumption, I decided she must be talking about her Chi Straightener and calling it a "stylist." Silly mom...I laughed pretty hard about this and explained the whole story to Tanner because I thought it was hilarious. After I had explained the entire story in serious detail, he thought I was talking about a "stylus" for my cell phone (you know that little pen that is used for the touch screen.) I laughed at our miscommunication...then texted my mom back this...are you talking about your hairstylist or your chi straightener? Because originally I thought you were talking about the girl who cuts my hair.
She responded, no, the stylist for my phone...haha.
Wow! So, she wasn't talking about my hairstylist, or my straightener, she was talking about that little pen (stylus) for my phone. It's funny how this 20 second simple conversation turned into a 2-day text fest. And this is all because when the words don't come across right or there is a misspelling you don't take the time to ask questions...in the world of texting apparently we have become accustomed to assuming anything and everything. Next time I guess I'll just pick up the phone and simplify my life a little bit.
