Today I completely ignored an assignment I have. It's only for 500 words, though. I'll do it when I get off Eviljob tomorrow.
Today we were talking (I have no choice but to talk, seeing as how I no longer have any privacy...), and someone commented that I'm always so nice to people, and everyone agreed. All I could think to say was, "Geez... none of you guys have seen my blog!" They totally cracked up!
No, I'm serious. Here I sound like total bitch. There I'm sweet. And intimidating. I'm still trying to figure that one out....
So I have a mile-long list of things I didn't do today after I got out; I watched Flood News...errr...Fox News. I saw a Macy's almost underwater--which I found really distressing--and it looks like the WSOP or whatever that Meg was planning to go to in Biloxi is going to be unlikely...or uncomfortable. I just hope Boomtown is ok. :-) I like that place 'cos the few times I've been there, I've had a good time. It's not as fancy as others, but the people are nice. Or were. I've stayed at the Imperial Palace in Biloxi, and it was...ok. Better than others, not as good as many; just ok. And a handful of years ago, I actually did pick up someone there, in a temporary sense. I don't do that sort of thing now, but it was justified and fun then. So I like Biloxi. I kind of like Tunica better, but I don't want to. :-) And I kind of like other places better, but I don't want to. So I'm sad that they're having troubles. And I'm also sad for the casino cats. There are a lot of casino cats; they hang around outside, usually in the parking lots. I hope they ran away from the water. :-( I'd like to think they did. And one of the conferences I go to is slated for New Orleans next year...I hope they've worked stuff out by then.
And my mother's concerned--really--for a flame point Siamese that lives in an art gallery in the French Quarter. She made friends with him or her the last time she was in New Orleans, and she's mentioned it about a dozen times. I told her to call the art gallery and ask, once the phones are back up if she's that worried; they'd probably appreciate the concern. It sounded like a cute cat, though; Mom said it would go out onto the sidewalk, like it was trying to invite people into its art gallery. :-) That's a Siamese for you.
I have my own stories of New Orleans, but they're...involved. As is everything else with me, it sometimes seems. So I'll just report hers for now.
I went to play trivia with Son-Friend tonight, which I try to do every Tuesday if possible. He looks forward to it, and it gives him the opportunity to talk to me. Usually it makes my brain hurt. :-P
We were in a bar (with me drinking diet coke and him drinking I think tea; I am too cheap to do a whole lot of drinking in bars, and Son-Friend can't drink. These Tuesdays are leaving me sick of bar food.), and Son-Friend was trying to tell me as we watched trivia and poker on ESPN that he would really be a good poker player, if I'd just give him a shot. Oh, yeah. Like the last time I took him. He became so emotionally involved that he had seizures. No, thank you. We'll save that for when your meds work.
And Son-Friend got annoyed when I casually commented that Phil Gordon is cute. I'm so glad that I didn't mention the fact that I think he's absofuckinglutely beautiful most of the time (*most* of the time). Thank goodness for that.
I think Son-Friend is concerned that I'm going to cut him off financially if/when I get with someone or married. Not that I ever have in the past. Who knows; he's mental. There's no talking with him.
Butsoanyway.
So then I came home, and wrote some stuff while I played *more* trivia. Ok, so I'm taking way too much time for myself, I know, but... I didn't play for almost a year online, and I really enjoy it. And one of the chatroom denizens came up with a good enough superhero name:
Danger Cat!
I like that way better than Sporkgirl.
And I also talked to Nurse Betty via IM (I am the QUEEN of multitasking!); she wants to buy a huge piece of land in I think Arizona, and develop it. One of her other friends did that, and has this cool-ass home for vacation/retirement now. Nurse Betty's a little older than me, but neither of us are anywhere near to thinking about retirement, but some of these parcels, she says, are going to go up in price when some highway gets built. So she & Mr Nurse Betty are looking to buy now, and she thinks that I should buy, even if I'm going to just sell later. I told her I want a *huge* piece, on which I'm going to build the Mall of the Universe! It'll make Mall of America look like a postage stamp! West Edmonton Mall will look like a tiny CONDO compared to my Mall of the Universe! And as a novelty, I'll have one level that is reachable only by gondola! And I can put a beach in there, and an airport, and a train, and maybe some mountains! I think Bass Pro might like a store on a mountain!
Nurse Betty asked me why I'd go get high and not invite her.
Oh, ye of little vision! ;-)
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
I'd rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station...with my tongue.
Well, we had our first meeting of the semester today. Ummm...sure; I guess it could have been worse. And I even got a word in edgewise. A couple of times, even. Go figure.
Though when it ended, I wasn't heartbroken.
Oh, can't you see what I'm trying to say, darlin'... I'd rather have my blood sucked out by leeches...
Though I did get an offer of help in gathering up all of my crap to re-submit, and that was very nice. :-) Help--when it is actually *helpful*--rocks. And this help was helpful. Everything's in and done.
And then I decided to stay late at the school and use their computer lab. I guess for no real reason at all, other than I was looking forward to working alone and walking around campus after dark, something I don't always get to do. Well, ever. I usually have urgent crap that has to have been done yesterday. I still did, but...I don't know. They have this area that is almost park-like, and it just looks very pretty and...civilised. Can't help more than that. The grass is short, the trees are pruned, the sidewalk area is lined with streetlamps (not enough to be obnoxious), the buildings have a nice lighting effect from lamp-y things in the flowerbeds surrounding them, and it's in the direction of the Observatory, so the view has stayed unobstructed (I guess intentionally, though I am not 100% up on how observatories work), so if you walk out into a grass clearing away from the lighted areas, you have this beautiful view of the sky, and benches, too.
I mean really, it's gorgeous. The only thing it's missing is little lights in the trees, and it would be perfect. I love walking there at night, and especially when it's cold. It's not cold now, but I stayed for that. I would have taken my laptop out there and worked, but it was too hot, and there's something about working in the lab that makes me actually *work*. Well, stay on-task better, at least. Not that I usually have a problem, but...I need less breaks, I don't do so much personal stuff...all of that. It was kind of a reward, or me-time, or whatever.
I do this kind of thing when I'm feeling out-of-sorts; I had a weird dream last night, and it set the mood for my whole day. I dreamt that I was in New Orleans (a/k/a, Venice of the South), and I had to save Squooshable from the hurricane, but I didn't have a place to stay, or money, or a car. Or a freaking cat carrier, and Squoosh was being squirmy. And none of the shelters or anywhere else would let us in because they didn't take pets. So I was going to have to find a way to break in to somewhere, and then re-secure it so that Squoosh couldn't get out, and that was going to be difficult to do whilst holding Squoosh the whole time, 'cos I had nothing to put him in (I was looking for something to put him in, too). And I didn't have food for either of us, on top of everything else, so I had to get some of that for us, too. So I woke up upset. And tired from all that walking around, carrying a squirmy Squooshable. Sigh. And I know that by getting upset over it I'm minimising all the disaster that people who are there were and are going through, but I can't help what I dream about. That's why I'm happy that I don't remember my dreams usually; they're almost always bad, big, complex, with horrible things in them; terrible problems that have to be solved, huge disasters, and so on. For whatever reason, for quite a while I've been spared having to remember them, and that rocks. And I would have figured it out and saved Squoosh and myself if the alarm hadn't gone off. I'm pretty resourceful.
What also pisses me off is that since I didn't get to think through it, if anything like that ever happens, I won't have many good suggestions already prepared. Bastard alarm.
Butsoanyway.
So as I'm driving home, Son-Friend calls; his cat had disappeared a few weeks back, and shown up with an injured tail. I paid for the vet (I made him go to Dr Vet), and his Snowball (a black cat, which illustrates more about S-F's personality than I can) is on antibiotics and has a tail bandage and so on. Dr Vet decided to try to save the tail first. But S-F has run out of bandages, and ::drum roll:: has no money. So I met him at the store near my house. Seventy dollars later (bandages, plus some Son-Friend food), I get to go home.
Sigh.
And I still have to help him with his rent for September, and finish buying my textbooks, and I'm of course still waiting to get reimbursed for my travel expenses. I can hear my bank account balance dropping like a god damned pachinko ball.
No, I didn't say anything to him about it; I wouldn't ever. It's my problem, not his.
If I ever run away from home though, I'm going to remember to bring a cat carrier. A big one, so that I can keep them all in one carrier (in my dream, Romeo and Weebie were with Meg, and I figured that if I died, she would take care of them), and a rolly-cart thing to lug it around on. And a big golf umbrella. And food. And something to secure the umbrella to the rolly thing. And...
Well, I've got to hammer it out *sometime*. And running away from home has an appeal at times...
Though when it ended, I wasn't heartbroken.
Oh, can't you see what I'm trying to say, darlin'... I'd rather have my blood sucked out by leeches...
Though I did get an offer of help in gathering up all of my crap to re-submit, and that was very nice. :-) Help--when it is actually *helpful*--rocks. And this help was helpful. Everything's in and done.
And then I decided to stay late at the school and use their computer lab. I guess for no real reason at all, other than I was looking forward to working alone and walking around campus after dark, something I don't always get to do. Well, ever. I usually have urgent crap that has to have been done yesterday. I still did, but...I don't know. They have this area that is almost park-like, and it just looks very pretty and...civilised. Can't help more than that. The grass is short, the trees are pruned, the sidewalk area is lined with streetlamps (not enough to be obnoxious), the buildings have a nice lighting effect from lamp-y things in the flowerbeds surrounding them, and it's in the direction of the Observatory, so the view has stayed unobstructed (I guess intentionally, though I am not 100% up on how observatories work), so if you walk out into a grass clearing away from the lighted areas, you have this beautiful view of the sky, and benches, too.
I mean really, it's gorgeous. The only thing it's missing is little lights in the trees, and it would be perfect. I love walking there at night, and especially when it's cold. It's not cold now, but I stayed for that. I would have taken my laptop out there and worked, but it was too hot, and there's something about working in the lab that makes me actually *work*. Well, stay on-task better, at least. Not that I usually have a problem, but...I need less breaks, I don't do so much personal stuff...all of that. It was kind of a reward, or me-time, or whatever.
I do this kind of thing when I'm feeling out-of-sorts; I had a weird dream last night, and it set the mood for my whole day. I dreamt that I was in New Orleans (a/k/a, Venice of the South), and I had to save Squooshable from the hurricane, but I didn't have a place to stay, or money, or a car. Or a freaking cat carrier, and Squoosh was being squirmy. And none of the shelters or anywhere else would let us in because they didn't take pets. So I was going to have to find a way to break in to somewhere, and then re-secure it so that Squoosh couldn't get out, and that was going to be difficult to do whilst holding Squoosh the whole time, 'cos I had nothing to put him in (I was looking for something to put him in, too). And I didn't have food for either of us, on top of everything else, so I had to get some of that for us, too. So I woke up upset. And tired from all that walking around, carrying a squirmy Squooshable. Sigh. And I know that by getting upset over it I'm minimising all the disaster that people who are there were and are going through, but I can't help what I dream about. That's why I'm happy that I don't remember my dreams usually; they're almost always bad, big, complex, with horrible things in them; terrible problems that have to be solved, huge disasters, and so on. For whatever reason, for quite a while I've been spared having to remember them, and that rocks. And I would have figured it out and saved Squoosh and myself if the alarm hadn't gone off. I'm pretty resourceful.
What also pisses me off is that since I didn't get to think through it, if anything like that ever happens, I won't have many good suggestions already prepared. Bastard alarm.
Butsoanyway.
So as I'm driving home, Son-Friend calls; his cat had disappeared a few weeks back, and shown up with an injured tail. I paid for the vet (I made him go to Dr Vet), and his Snowball (a black cat, which illustrates more about S-F's personality than I can) is on antibiotics and has a tail bandage and so on. Dr Vet decided to try to save the tail first. But S-F has run out of bandages, and ::drum roll:: has no money. So I met him at the store near my house. Seventy dollars later (bandages, plus some Son-Friend food), I get to go home.
Sigh.
And I still have to help him with his rent for September, and finish buying my textbooks, and I'm of course still waiting to get reimbursed for my travel expenses. I can hear my bank account balance dropping like a god damned pachinko ball.
No, I didn't say anything to him about it; I wouldn't ever. It's my problem, not his.
If I ever run away from home though, I'm going to remember to bring a cat carrier. A big one, so that I can keep them all in one carrier (in my dream, Romeo and Weebie were with Meg, and I figured that if I died, she would take care of them), and a rolly-cart thing to lug it around on. And a big golf umbrella. And food. And something to secure the umbrella to the rolly thing. And...
Well, I've got to hammer it out *sometime*. And running away from home has an appeal at times...
I've Found a New Hermeneutic.
Now really, what are the chances--two days in a row? I'm so glad that I'm a skeptic, and not inclined to see pattern where there is none. And no; I didn't think about my title yesterday. As I always do, I tried to think of something that summed it all up, Sparky.
Butsoanyway.
I have more The Powers That Be than you could shake a stick at. I have enough TPTB roaming around that I'm just wanting to grab a knife sometimes and freaking cut them. Bad. So bad that they'd say, "Oohh...she cut me bad!" Yeah. That bad.
I'm so glad that I'm not violent. Anymore.
Butsoanyway.
So for the RCMP stuff that I'm doing, I have to run it past a TPTB. This TPTB's job is to make sure that I'm not luring grade 4s to my Evil Lair by promising them crack cocaine and group sex, and then performing Evil Experimentations upon their personages. Especially were I to not then pony up the crack cocaine and group sex. In fact, sometimes I think that this particular TPTB's biggest problem with the aforementioned scenario would be if I were to fail to follow through on the crack cocaine and group sex, 'cos then I'd be luring them in under false pretenses. But whatever.
I've just spent the past five hours changing my What Ancodia's Doing submission in response to their looong-ass email detailing everything I do wrong. It's not just me; they do it to everyone. Their biggest complaint this time is that I don't correctly use the terms "anonymous" and "confidential".
Ummm...yes, I do. You can complain about a lot of things that I do, but I do correctly use those terms.
But trying to talk them out of something like this is like trying to get Squoosh to stop biting your foot when he's on fire. It's just not going to happen. With Squoosh, I move around on one foot whilst he tears around the other, all sharp claws and teeth, until he gets bored with that foot and leaps to the other like a little tailless black piranha. Then I switch feet. :-) With TPTB, I'm just re-writing to accommodate their concept of "anonymous" and "confidential". Some fights just aren't worth it.
I *want* to be a bitch. I *want* to go get a copy of any dictionary and present them with it. My *dream* response is that, if data are being reported in an aggregate form, then that implies anonymity to the individual; however, conversely, the fact that I might know them--or certainly do after I've seen their name to assign them their number--would imply that they are *not* "anonymous". Moreover, I am dying to reply, the fact that I'm then assigning any type of nominal identifier to them, in the strictest literal terms, *further* means that they are at no time *literally* "anonymous". And although one could say that their responses and participation are "confidential", they actually aren't and cannot be. If they are a student, their instructors know. And me. And whoever might be running it for me. And anyone who sees them come into the room. And everyone in my workgroup, should they look at my stuff, or even just ask me. Additionally, participating in my RCMP study means that they can't participate in another RCMP study. So *those* RCMP peeps know. And so on, and so on...
And I'd close by telling TPTB that they have given me a raging migraine, and I have decided to become a shepherd.
Or maybe we should just let Ancodia say "your responses will be anonymous, and your participation will be confidential". Assholes. This is an imperfect world. And so on.
But no...I'll do it their way. I've changed everything, 'cos god forbid I should misuse the terms. Hmmph.
And they have some Pythonesque fascination with locked filing cabinets. It reminds me of the self-defense skit with the pointed stick. Every other comment is enquiring as to whether I intend to place all of this into a locked filing cabinet! WTF?
No, but I have a god damned raspberry, so there.
How To Defend Your Data, by Ancodia
"Hello, there! I've come to make off with your data!"
"Ohellno!"
"Well, have you placed it in a...LOCKED FILING CABINET?"
"Bwaah! I *knew* I should have used one! Curses!"
"I'm just going to have at it, then..."
"Ho-ho! Never! For although I lack a locked filing cabinet, I am armed with a BANANA!"
"That thing's not loaded."
"It is too! And I know how to use it!"
"You're holding it backwards."
"It's my...idiom."
"I'm taking your data."
"Oh, come on...you won't like it."
"And I'll take this stack..."
"It's boring, really."
"And this one..."
"I'm PEELING THE BANANA!!"
"And I'd like any disks and printouts you have...SAS, SPSS; it doesn't matter to me--I'm pillaging!"
"No! You can't have them! We'll lose the farm!"
"Should've thought of a locked filing cabinet, then."
"You leave me with no alternative!"
"Oh, I'm scared."
"RELEASE SQUOOSHABLE!!"
"Arrrrrgggghhhhhh!!"
FIN
Butsoanyway.
So ok, fine. I assured them that I was going to get a locked filing cabinet and put everything in there. I didn't think they'd be receptive to Squooshable guarding it all. Though he'd do a better job.
Bwaah!
To anticipate their next desired revisions, I wanted to assure them that I was most certainly going to keep the data in a locked filing cabinet in a disused lavatory that has a sign on the door that says "BEWARE OF THE LEOPARD". And, as god may or mayn't be my witness, if they *do* return it to me again and ask where the filing cabinet is going to be kept, that *will* be my reply. Choke on it. Pffft. I've served ten thousand years at Eviljob...TPTB is no match for *my* bureaucracy. I can do it "their" way for only so long.
Now I just wish I knew why they let the one last term just go with only teensy, minor revisions. What'd I do to become interesting?
Butsoanyway.
I have more The Powers That Be than you could shake a stick at. I have enough TPTB roaming around that I'm just wanting to grab a knife sometimes and freaking cut them. Bad. So bad that they'd say, "Oohh...she cut me bad!" Yeah. That bad.
I'm so glad that I'm not violent. Anymore.
Butsoanyway.
So for the RCMP stuff that I'm doing, I have to run it past a TPTB. This TPTB's job is to make sure that I'm not luring grade 4s to my Evil Lair by promising them crack cocaine and group sex, and then performing Evil Experimentations upon their personages. Especially were I to not then pony up the crack cocaine and group sex. In fact, sometimes I think that this particular TPTB's biggest problem with the aforementioned scenario would be if I were to fail to follow through on the crack cocaine and group sex, 'cos then I'd be luring them in under false pretenses. But whatever.
I've just spent the past five hours changing my What Ancodia's Doing submission in response to their looong-ass email detailing everything I do wrong. It's not just me; they do it to everyone. Their biggest complaint this time is that I don't correctly use the terms "anonymous" and "confidential".
Ummm...yes, I do. You can complain about a lot of things that I do, but I do correctly use those terms.
But trying to talk them out of something like this is like trying to get Squoosh to stop biting your foot when he's on fire. It's just not going to happen. With Squoosh, I move around on one foot whilst he tears around the other, all sharp claws and teeth, until he gets bored with that foot and leaps to the other like a little tailless black piranha. Then I switch feet. :-) With TPTB, I'm just re-writing to accommodate their concept of "anonymous" and "confidential". Some fights just aren't worth it.
I *want* to be a bitch. I *want* to go get a copy of any dictionary and present them with it. My *dream* response is that, if data are being reported in an aggregate form, then that implies anonymity to the individual; however, conversely, the fact that I might know them--or certainly do after I've seen their name to assign them their number--would imply that they are *not* "anonymous". Moreover, I am dying to reply, the fact that I'm then assigning any type of nominal identifier to them, in the strictest literal terms, *further* means that they are at no time *literally* "anonymous". And although one could say that their responses and participation are "confidential", they actually aren't and cannot be. If they are a student, their instructors know. And me. And whoever might be running it for me. And anyone who sees them come into the room. And everyone in my workgroup, should they look at my stuff, or even just ask me. Additionally, participating in my RCMP study means that they can't participate in another RCMP study. So *those* RCMP peeps know. And so on, and so on...
And I'd close by telling TPTB that they have given me a raging migraine, and I have decided to become a shepherd.
Or maybe we should just let Ancodia say "your responses will be anonymous, and your participation will be confidential". Assholes. This is an imperfect world. And so on.
But no...I'll do it their way. I've changed everything, 'cos god forbid I should misuse the terms. Hmmph.
And they have some Pythonesque fascination with locked filing cabinets. It reminds me of the self-defense skit with the pointed stick. Every other comment is enquiring as to whether I intend to place all of this into a locked filing cabinet! WTF?
No, but I have a god damned raspberry, so there.
How To Defend Your Data, by Ancodia
"Hello, there! I've come to make off with your data!"
"Ohellno!"
"Well, have you placed it in a...LOCKED FILING CABINET?"
"Bwaah! I *knew* I should have used one! Curses!"
"I'm just going to have at it, then..."
"Ho-ho! Never! For although I lack a locked filing cabinet, I am armed with a BANANA!"
"That thing's not loaded."
"It is too! And I know how to use it!"
"You're holding it backwards."
"It's my...idiom."
"I'm taking your data."
"Oh, come on...you won't like it."
"And I'll take this stack..."
"It's boring, really."
"And this one..."
"I'm PEELING THE BANANA!!"
"And I'd like any disks and printouts you have...SAS, SPSS; it doesn't matter to me--I'm pillaging!"
"No! You can't have them! We'll lose the farm!"
"Should've thought of a locked filing cabinet, then."
"You leave me with no alternative!"
"Oh, I'm scared."
"RELEASE SQUOOSHABLE!!"
"Arrrrrgggghhhhhh!!"
FIN
Butsoanyway.
So ok, fine. I assured them that I was going to get a locked filing cabinet and put everything in there. I didn't think they'd be receptive to Squooshable guarding it all. Though he'd do a better job.
Bwaah!
To anticipate their next desired revisions, I wanted to assure them that I was most certainly going to keep the data in a locked filing cabinet in a disused lavatory that has a sign on the door that says "BEWARE OF THE LEOPARD". And, as god may or mayn't be my witness, if they *do* return it to me again and ask where the filing cabinet is going to be kept, that *will* be my reply. Choke on it. Pffft. I've served ten thousand years at Eviljob...TPTB is no match for *my* bureaucracy. I can do it "their" way for only so long.
Now I just wish I knew why they let the one last term just go with only teensy, minor revisions. What'd I do to become interesting?
Sunday, August 28, 2005
28/8...78?
Today could have sucked worse. :-)
It's so completely almost autumn! You can almost feel it. Well, almost. And I'm tired. And Squoosh is making with the kitty kisses something fierce. I think he thought I had given him away.
I must--*must*--find a way to get to sleep at a reasonable hour. It's just depressing on Saturday nights, 'cos I miss a trivia game that I love playing. But I can't keep dragging in to damn near everywhere all punchy from a lack of sleep.
To that end, I'm going to attempt sleeping now...
It's so completely almost autumn! You can almost feel it. Well, almost. And I'm tired. And Squoosh is making with the kitty kisses something fierce. I think he thought I had given him away.
I must--*must*--find a way to get to sleep at a reasonable hour. It's just depressing on Saturday nights, 'cos I miss a trivia game that I love playing. But I can't keep dragging in to damn near everywhere all punchy from a lack of sleep.
To that end, I'm going to attempt sleeping now...
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Ancodia's Day Off
Ok, so like I was supposed to go to class today. Heh.
So I suck; I overslept. Well, that, plus I didn't correctly remember that this class is a three and a half hour class, not a *two* hour class. After I'm an hour and a half late to anything, I figure "screw it", unless whatever is going on there involves giving me money.
Who is the genius that made up a 3.5-hour class? Fridays are going to be *long*.
Butsoanyway.
So I did nothing constructive today--not that even here in the first week of the term, I'm lacking in things I could do that might be beneficial to someone, particularly myself. I'm still decompressing, really; I feel like I could sleep for a week, even now. And I want to walk in and quit the hell out of Eviljob tomorrow. Argh.
I posted a few more pictures, but I haven't gone through them all, and it looks like posting them to Blogger breaks Blogger, since the menu stuff is all fallen down to the bottom of the page (at least the way I see it). So I may or may not get more off of Flickr to stick here, 'cos it makes the formatting look weird. I'm probably doing something wrong, but I don't know what it is. Pffft.
The short of it is that I've broken Blogger. Again.
Squoosh had a sneezing fit tonight, and I'm just mentioning it in case something later happens and I have to think back and figure out when that occurred. Note To Self: It was tonight.
So I'm going to go check on him and go to bed. And hope this post fixes Blogger. And as god is my witness, I'm spending this term getting my pathetic credentialling together and hoofing it to find some teaching job so that I don't have to Be at Eviljob come...well, let's be realistic here...January. I've been putting it off because I'm either lazy or a coward; I can't decide. Perhaps it's because I'm ambivalent. Or noncommittal. Who knows?
Or indecisive.
Ok, I'll stop. :-)
So that's my mid-year resolution. Well, one of them. We'll see how well I follow through. Hmmph.
Maybe it's because I'm skeptical and pessimistic?
:-D
So I suck; I overslept. Well, that, plus I didn't correctly remember that this class is a three and a half hour class, not a *two* hour class. After I'm an hour and a half late to anything, I figure "screw it", unless whatever is going on there involves giving me money.
Who is the genius that made up a 3.5-hour class? Fridays are going to be *long*.
Butsoanyway.
So I did nothing constructive today--not that even here in the first week of the term, I'm lacking in things I could do that might be beneficial to someone, particularly myself. I'm still decompressing, really; I feel like I could sleep for a week, even now. And I want to walk in and quit the hell out of Eviljob tomorrow. Argh.
I posted a few more pictures, but I haven't gone through them all, and it looks like posting them to Blogger breaks Blogger, since the menu stuff is all fallen down to the bottom of the page (at least the way I see it). So I may or may not get more off of Flickr to stick here, 'cos it makes the formatting look weird. I'm probably doing something wrong, but I don't know what it is. Pffft.
The short of it is that I've broken Blogger. Again.
Squoosh had a sneezing fit tonight, and I'm just mentioning it in case something later happens and I have to think back and figure out when that occurred. Note To Self: It was tonight.
So I'm going to go check on him and go to bed. And hope this post fixes Blogger. And as god is my witness, I'm spending this term getting my pathetic credentialling together and hoofing it to find some teaching job so that I don't have to Be at Eviljob come...well, let's be realistic here...January. I've been putting it off because I'm either lazy or a coward; I can't decide. Perhaps it's because I'm ambivalent. Or noncommittal. Who knows?
Or indecisive.
Ok, I'll stop. :-)
So that's my mid-year resolution. Well, one of them. We'll see how well I follow through. Hmmph.
Maybe it's because I'm skeptical and pessimistic?
:-D
Thursday, August 25, 2005
No parking, Baby?
My caption:
Meg and I both stared at this sign for a full ten minutes, trying to figure out if we could park there. She's the rule-based, mathematical one, and I'm the intuitive, affordance-based one, and neither of us had a god damned clue at the end of that ten minutes. The car was still there when we came back, for what it's worth. No wonder people in DC are fucked up for life.
---------
In all honesty, Meg thought we probably could park there. She said she was about 80% certain. On the other hand, I thought we could not, and was approximately 50% certain. Not good odds at all. To this day, I still am not sure why our car was still there and unticketed. It may have had something to do with the three cars illegally double-parked beside a car illegally parked in front of a fire hydrant right ahead of our car. Though who knows, really. Traffic-wise, it's bedlam there. I guess I'd have to be addled or insane to really, truly understand it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
