Dear JLR,

I saw this, and I thought of you.




Sincerely,
impatientbee





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Dear coffee,

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...or at least the number of times I've mentioned you on my blog (with apologies for any repeats).

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Adoringly, affectionately, and forever,
jlr

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Picture me waving my fist at the computer

Are you picturing it? 'Cause I am definitely shaking my fist at the computer.

Can't. write. paper.

It's just a measly three-page paper. Three pages, folks. Three.

And yet.

Oh, sure, I have four pages typed already, but they don't say anything. And don't tell me it's because pages can't talk. You know what I mean.

What is it about this particular topic that makes it so hard to write? Developers and planners working together to reach a goal, specifically the building of low-income housing. I picked the topic. You'd think I'd be able to write about it. But no. I have, essentially, eight really long paragraphs that repeat themselves. They go something like this:

Planners and developers should work together. Planners can help developers, and developers can help planners. They each have resources the other needs. They should really work together. Maybe planners could, like, be a part of the development team or something. They could, you know, identify needs. And sites. And provide funding. Maybe? And developers can provide ideas and the rest of the funding and actually build the thing. It could work, you know? Planners and developers should really work together. Oh, but there might be some obstacles. Look out for those. And work together. Go Team!

Le sigh.

Hoping your evening is going better than mine is,
The Management
(tee hee...saying that made me think of Amstaff)



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Incident report, 7-7-07

1. While at Deals' house this weekend, I very carefully poured out a glass of Dr. Pepper for myself, sipping it down to keep it from spilling over...and then proceeded to miss my glass entirely while trying to pour out the rest of the can into my glass.

2. Dropped a bit of queso on the floor (but I cleaned it up Deals, I promise).

3. Overhead highly-medicated Deals say something about "wearing her face" (as in, she explained something to me with, "Maybe it's because I'm wearing my face.")

Incident Report, 7-5-07

1. Spilled water bottle in book bag on my way to the first day of summer class.
2. Found four mystery bruises on my left knee.
3. Butter stain on my right jeans leg.
4. Gabby threw up on JLR's bed. Although this didn't happen to me, it's certainly worth reporting.
5. Was running late for first day of class; didn't have time to wash the long-time-in-traffic sweat off of me, so applied perfume in what I know is always a futile attempt to cover up sweat smell; couldn't smell the perfume on me while driving to class so applied more; several minutes later remembered that, due to my poor sense of smell, I probably wouldn't have been able to smell the perfume unless I'd bathed in it; felt sorry for the classmate who had to sit next to me. This classmate has since dropped the class. I wonder if it's because of me.


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