Dear Conference Organizers,

Tonight, classmate Sue told me about the silvery-inked pen she found in the bag you gave her at the conference yesterday. I attended the conference today. When I returned home from class this evening, I checked my bag, and there was no silvery-inked pen. Classmate Sue spoke highly of the silvery-inked pen. She told me how nice the writing looked when the pen was used with the blue sticky notes you handed out (which I do have). I would like to have a silvery-inked pen, please.

(What's that you say? That I cleaned out my pen collection this weekend and said I didn't need any more pens? Shhhh.......)

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Snapshot of my day so far

Oversleep. Get up in time to get dressed, have breakfast, and turn on the computer before my professor calls to discuss a project. Tell him I will have the changes he recommended made in a couple of hours. Seven hours later, I’m still working on it. I was going to finish writing a paper today, but I might as well put that off. My professor thinks my classmates and I will be up all night working on it before it’s due on Tuesday; we might as well live up to his prediction.

The cats do not like their new food and have been bugging me all day to give them the old stuff. I tell them that the old stuff made them sick, but (a) they don’t speak English and (b) they don’t care. They want the old stuff.

I’m in the home stretch on the project when I hear a tell-tale cry from Gabby. I run downstairs, and, sure enough, she’s licking her lips in the way she does right before she throws up. I run into the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels. She follows, sits down, and stares out the window. A sneaking suspicion creeps over me that her “about to throw up” symptoms were just a ploy to get me near the food bowls.

"Don’t act like you weren’t about to be sick, because you totally were,” I say to her. She casually inspects the rug. I look around the corner, and there’s Wally, big eyes staring at me, and both food bowls untouched.

I’ll admit it. They wore me down. It’s tuna tonight.

But at least it’s a Robert Cray day, so I’m happy.

Oh, Lovely Day

I don't know what the weather is like where you are, but here, it's a Robert-Cray-and-open-windows kind of day.




If you follow the link, try song 3. Fabu.



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Dear Deals,

I saw this, and I thought of you.

Yours sincerely,
RR

P.S. D.C. Donut--I thought of you, too. I have first-hand knowledge of what Deals is going through; I reeeeaaaaally hope your situation isn't quite as bad. If it is...oh, man. That's bad.

Incident Report, Lately

1. Knocked over moisturizer bottle while reaching for hair clip
2. A bug flew into my mouth while I was talking to a classmate in the parking lot after class
3. Hit grocery store employee's foot with my grocery cart
4. I came home from class tonight with a plastic cup from the boba tea place I go to every Thursday; the intention was to recycle the plastic cup. As I came into the house, JLR gave me a look.
"[RR]," she said reprovingly, pointing to the plastic cup I brought home last week and still haven't put in the recycle bin.
5. Had the following conservation with professor:
Me: I really enjoyed Loukaitou-Sideris's article on sidewalks.
Him: Oh, really? When did you read that?
Me: Last fall in Professor Smith's class.
Him: I'm Professor Smith.
Me: [pause due to confusion followed by embarrassment] I mean, in Professor Stone's class.

Le Sigh.



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Aye, Me Hearties, It's That Day Again!!

Happy TALK LIKE A PIRATE day, everyone!

(And thanks to Jes for being the first to comment on this before I had even posted it. You rock, Jes.)


Now, go out there and celebrate! You can start by spreading around a joke sure to amuse your co-workers (if they haven't already heard it); it's near and dear to jlr's heart because it (a) involves a pun and (b) involves one of her favorite things.

"What kind o' socks does a pirate wear? - Arrrrgyle!" [from talklikeapirate.com]












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Studyblock

Apparently, while I was downloading Leechblock onto the computer, my brain was downloading Studyblock. No studying after 3 P.M. Nope, not going to do it. Now my brain and my computer are working at cross purposes.

Brain: I will not study. I will look at cuteoverload and icanhascheezburger.
Computer: Um, no. I've blocked those, and you can't remember your password to bypass me.
Brain: Bother! But you won't fool me! I'll think of some other way to pass the time!
Computer: No, you won't. You're not really working right now, now that it's late afternoon. You've already put yourself on standby. Here, I'll give you something to do. How about working on that art inventory your professor has been waiting for? That doesn't require much brain power.
Brain: Sigh, oh, all right...Oh, look, a website for the Visionary Arts Museum! It's not going on the inventory, but I'll spend ten minutes reading about it anyway.
Computer: Sigh. I'm going to have to shut down the Internet again, aren't I?


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How to Remove Honey from Hands While in GRA Office

1. Wipe hands on napkin. Note that hands are still sticky.

2. Use hand sanitizer. Note that hands still have honey on them.

3. Look around office to make sure no one is watching.

4. Wipe hands on pants.

Can I Add Leechblock to Leechblock?

Well, folks, only two weeks in to the new semester, and already my academic output would rate about a 7 out of 10 on the ol' Crumm-E scale.

To help increase my productivity (both quantity and quality), I've installed Leechblock. The problem is that I spend much longer than I should have just trying to find Leechblock. Moreover, I can picture myself spending a good deal of time in the next week wasting time trying to think of more sites to block myself from accessing (in other words, procrastinating...again). Grrr, RR. Grrr.

Oh, well, it's installed now, and here's hoping it will actually work.

Happy Monday, y'all!


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I'm supposed to do something on Friday, but I don't remember what it is.

Thoughts? Suggestions? Anyone? I believe it is a mid-day appointment.









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Dude, I Smell Like Outside

I have a meeting with a professor (of whom I am very much in awe) in 20 minutes, and I smell like outside. Le sigh.






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On the plus side, the Runt finally posted again! She says she's going to post pictures of her new puppy, but we shall see...

Woe to you, Fiskars!

Woe to you for cutting my finger! We were friends, but no longer. I do not trust you.

But I am impressed with how sharp you are.

-

Do You Ever Feel Like This?

http://shrinkster.com/sbn

(slightly longer version at http://shrinkster.com/sbo)

I, for one, feel this way all the time (though on a more modest scale).




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Corn-I-cannot-copia

Or, no longer “corn-o-plenty”

I love corn. Straight off the cob or from a can, sweet kernel or cream, I do not care. I love corn products, such as popcorn, corn chips, and wonderful, wonderful corn bread. More than these, I love things made from corn products such as corn syrup. And I can no longer have these things.

You see, I am allergic to corn. Or rather, according to my newly-acquired allergist, I have a sensitivity to corn. This means that, while consuming corn will not cause anaphylaxis for me, it will cause stomach acid to enter my esophagus, which, over time, will irritate it to the point that my esophagus will begin to close…which is what happened in all these years before I discovered I had corn “sensitivity” and why I had to have my esophagus widened a couple of months back.

Now, the good news is that if I cut out all corn products from my diet for the next, say, two years, my body may forget that it has this particular allergy, and I can go back to eating corn. Maybe. The bad news is that it’s hard to find products that don’t have corn, corn syrup, or corn starch (shoot, even most baking powder is made with corn starch). I will now be spending most of my grocery money at Whole Foods, where I’ve managed to find a number of things that I can eat and that don’t also require me to spend much time in the kitchen.

I guess I should pick up with yoga again; then I can really be one of those Whole Foods people.

There are only so many places it could be.

And yet I cannot find the cord to my "fauxpod" knock-off MP3 player. Where is it?

I mean, seriously, y'all.

There are only so many places it could be.


-

Dear JLR,

I saw this, and I thought of you.




Sincerely,
impatientbee





-
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).

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24

Adoringly, affectionately, and forever,
jlr

-

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.


-

Because the cough continues...

Today, Deals said to me while we were at Jamba Juice:

"I'm getting an immunity boost because I've been spending time with you."

She said this with a look on her face that was a lovely combination of sneering, suspicion, and disgust. It was a work of art. I couldn't help but be amused.

I was reminded of the sick people at work who used to be insulted when I used alcohol wipes to clean handrails and doorknobs they'd touched. Hey, I was just looking out for my health. And Deals was clearly doing the same today. Way to go, Deals. Way to be like one of the family. Hee hee. Hee hee hee hee.