evilhippo: hippo (78 [trouble])
( Aug. 2nd, 2010 08:31 pm)
Definitely a little worse for wear after the five hours I spent at work yesterday. My brain is clambering to escape, and is managing it in the oddest of ways. I kept typing completely unrelated (though interesting) words into documents today (foreclosing on a mortgage from "Homestar Mortgage" didn't help anything at all). I hope I caught all of them. Also, on my way to work, while passing through the intersection of Madison and Clark, just as I was considering whether I should ride over the manhole cover or swerve to avoid it, it occurred to me how strange it is that no one pays any mind to the fact that "Roman" is most of the word "romance." "What the heck is up with that?" says my brain and so, now that I'm home and enjoying the few hours of free time I get, I find myself poking around etymology dictionaries. It turns out "romance" was more a term for adventure stories/chivalrous tales told in the vernacular (or at least, romance-language vernacular, specifically French which, of course, is derived from Latin, the language of the Romans, hence romance in that sense). It was basically just knight-in-shining-armor stuff until about the 1600s (300 years from when it first appeared), when it gained the love story sense, then it puttered along for another 200+ years before it was possible to have "a romance" outside of a story, and then, around the 1940s, supposedly, is when the verb form appeared. Until the 1940s, you couldn't romance someone! How weird is that? (How easy is it to be unintentionally anachronistic when writing period pieces, too!)

I'm pretty sure this is a sign that it's time for me to go back to school (this will be the theme, I think, for the next few months, as if it hasn't been for the months prior to this as well). As such, I'm really looking forward to my trek up to Northwestern next Friday to check out Medill (especially since Northwestern is supposed to be the sworn enemy of the UofC). Hopefully they won't say anything like "Oh, you'll never get in with that GPA," or "No journalism experience? What are you thinking?" Also, hopefully I won't just hide in the corner, and will actually talk to someone about whether it's what I really want to do. Hrm.
evilhippo: hippo (3 [grr])
( Apr. 4th, 2010 05:59 pm)
Freaking crap, Planet of the Dead, really? I had to actually look up the episode to even remember which one it was. Was it that terrible a year for TV science fiction? Really? That three of the five short-form Hugo nominations are for Russell T. Davies. Okay, sure, we want to see him off properly, he did bring back Doctor Who and all, but guys none of those episodes were good. Of the three, I'd honestly have to go with The Next Doctor. (Please let Dollhouse win.)

On the plus side, I've got a list of books for my next trip to the library. Woo!
I think 2009 will go down in my personal history at least partially as The Year of Appliances. My awesome rice cooker, my indoor grill, and now my awesome new friend the KitchenAid Artisan mixer (in Imperial Grey).

My mom got me a regular classic one for Christmas, but I couldn't get it into my luggage and I knew they weren't going to let me on my bus with it, so I said I'd just get one in Chicago. So I waffled, and went "Oh, maybe I should get one of the more powerful ones, I do make a lot of dough." And I shopped around. And tonight I wandered up to the Bloomingdale's home store (which has been torture for me all year, since it houses the copper All-Clad pans I will no doubt be drooling over until... whenever I have a spare $800-some dollars lying around). And lo and behold they had the classic mixers for what my mom had paid for them, and so after a bit of waiting I summoned the nearest clerk and instead of just getting one of the classics I got into a long conversation with him about their durability and my recent penchant for making bread, and he started telling me about how he was from Denmark, where they apparently make really great bread, and I waffled a bit and apologized for being so indecisive and he told me he'd give me the sale price a day late if I couldn't decide tonight, so I wandered off and foolishly did grocery shopping while my mom whittled away my reserves against throwing some of my own money into the deal and getting the fancier mixer. (Because, in the end, I'm not very likely to want a Pro one but I was pretty likely to get a classic one and then want one of the Artisans for the extra push. And the pretty colors.)

And so, in the end, I found myself traipsing down Michigan Ave with a 25-pound beautiful mixer in my arms and groceries. Of course the only logical solution to this problem was to phone up Skirtpants and bribe him to drive me home. Technically I suppose the bribe of two pizzas wasn't really necessary, but otherwise I wouldn't have gotten to play with The Mixer (soon to be properly named) tonight. And... I mean, the pizza dough was real, actual dough in like, five minutes, and watching the bread hook flap the dough around is pretty entertaining. That stuff takes me ten to fifteen minutes to knead on my own. And it was good. I'm in love with this machine already. (And I just made two whole pizzas for other people and wasn't terrified of them eating them. Guys, at some point in the last few months I officially passed the point where I was no longer afraid of letting people eat food I made! I let other people taste things first, even if it's something I've never made before! Leaps and bounds guys, leaps and bounds! It wasn't long ago that I wouldn't even let people catch me with proper utensils in the kitchen!)
It's really shameful how proud I am right now that I have Godot's ringtone as my main ringtone on my phone. (New phone, guys! Maybe this one will hold a charge! Also it's green and recyclable because I am a dork.)

In even dorkier but more worrying news, the radiator in my kitchen has started rattling in exactly the same rhythm as the Master's insane drumming. And also my taxi driver last night was named Rassillon. It's totally time for me to be scared, right? Right?
Though being able to hide concert contraband in the lining of my messenger bag is nice, the novelty has kind of worn off. And the strap is about to tear loose. So, it's time to replace the poor old thing.

I've found myself particularly drawn to this bag (warning: it's Etsy). I worry, though, that it's a little loud for my financial-district doldrums. Normally this isn't an issue, but as I'm a one-bag sort of girl this is also going to have to get me through potential future things like interviews. (Also, the $10 shipping is insane, but it's coming from Australia, so I suppose for once the charge might be sort of justified.)
Writing up e-mails about the physics of not falling into the middle of my couch, and taking arty pictures of said couch, should really not be this satisfying. But it is.

If only there was such positive reinforcement for packing.
evilhippo: hippo (36 [lies])
( Aug. 7th, 2009 06:48 pm)
A general question for the masses:

I need winter/rain/waterproof-in-general boots. Is the Battlestar Galactica prop auction an absolutely wrongheaded, terrible and all-around bad idea place to look? Or, rather, is it completely inappropriate and horrible to actually wear something one may or may not have bid on for the purpose of 1) owning a part of BSG and 2) keeping one's feet warm and dry when it rains or snows.

It's not even that I'd expect anyone to see them in public and go "Oh wow, you're wearing boots from BSG!" It's that I would know. And at the moment, they're not going to cost me any more than normal rain boots.

I'm also torn on getting a pair of the earrings, or better yet, Elosha's earrings and necklace (because they're really cool and more my style than Roslin's earrings), but I can't quite justify that as useful...
evilhippo: hippo (25 [space])
( May. 30th, 2009 04:43 pm)
It's taken a bit longer than I wanted, but my new iPod is finally all dressed up and properly mine. Guys, this is my dear little Hester. I'm still debating a screen cover, but rumor is that the new screens are nearly indestructible, and I'm pretty ridiculously careful, so I think I'll wait before I sink another $15 or so into protection. I was a little ambivalent about the skin I got for her, but then I realized the best part about a simple skin is that it's insanely easy to edit the matching background. And so, obviously, I'm much happier now that I've added the scrawly white bits to... um... all five of the backgrounds I tend to rotate through.

In other news... there is nothing going on. I'm thinking of starting some kind of writing group, since I've found that, embarrassingly enough, there's actually a fair bit of writing motivation to be had from fictionalizing my office. It'd probably turn up some interesting stories from people. And, if nothing else, it's practice. Anyone want in/want to help me out?

I've also added "bicycle storage" to my list of impossible apartment demands. I still don't understand why I can't lock my bike in the back like a normal human being (or, for that matter, why they changed the locks on the gate rather than asking for the key back), but at least spring is giving me new motivation to just suck it up and deal with moving again. I don't think I want to sign on for another year of maneuvering my bike up a narrow flight of stairs and stashing it in my kitchen. That, and the stomping from my upstairs neighbor is getting worse. I'm really starting to think it's some kind of passive-aggressive revenge against me, but I cannot figure out what I did to her, other than occasionally play music in my kitchen and sing along. And judging by the acoustics in here, that should only bother my westward neighbors. Maybe my roommate is evil to her when I'm not looking?

Also! The complete lack of things to play on my mandolin lately has brought me to the conclusion that more fandoms need something like Wizard Rock. Unfortunately, these fandoms are going to have to come to me, preferably with mandolin music, because I don't have any right now.
Question of the moment:

Do I make this the wallpaper on my laptop at work? (There's got to be some way to get it through their heads that yes, I am more unfathomably dorky than they can fail to fathom.)

In other news... it's hot out, I want to go swimming, I'm working late for the next epic forever to make up for missing Monday, and I've made approximately 50 words of progress into that essay I'm writing for a job that I won't name because every time I mention something specific, either I freeze up and don't apply, or just get ignored, and I... can't deal with that any more. So... yes. Life continues to be unexciting, somewhat frustrating, and (thankfully) full of shopping at ethnic grocery stores to keep things interesting (I can kind of read Spanish! But only the bits that are cognates with French or English, and I continue to confuse the words for "milk" and "caramel". Probably because I don't know the word for caramel.)
Dear Battlestar Galactica:

What. the. heck? I... really? I didn't think it was possible for you to get more emotionally screwed up. But no. No, now you have got me invested in this, and you've turned into a giant space soap opera of wtfery. (And it is wonderful. Really. Everyone has gone insane, and some of the scenes... where are you going with this? I'm not even going to try anymore. You had better not betray me.) And still, since the end of last season, all my character loyalties are shifting a bit. We're getting new sides of people, and I'm staying loyal to very few. (I no longer want to punch Lee Adama in the face. How weird is that? Tigh? 100% cooler since last season (yet still the same Tigh). Baltar? Five million percent more bizarre comic relief. And also... probably the biggest point of confusion for me. And if he turns out to be a Cylon... I don't think I'll be happy. I... actually, I could go into theories here for a long time, but I think I'll wait until we're more than two episodes into the season. Kara? I still want to kick her, but now it's more in... okay, it's still for "stop being insane" only now it's more out of concern than frustration. And Papadama remains a big giant jelly donut.)

Dear Russel T. Davies/Doctor Who Season 4:

As I've said before, I have no doubt you went into this new series thing with approximately five ideas and three characters. That said... Donna is actually tolerable, and I am verily impressed (for now. Don't think I won't turn my back again if you let things start sucking like you did with Martha. Character depth. It helps guys.) However, your plots still suck and the line about Vulcan? If anything was going to make me cry in that episode (and oh, you tried. You tried so hard it actually hurt), it was that line. Srsly.

evilhippo: hippo (93 [tea])
( Mar. 30th, 2008 06:44 pm)
So guys... I'm loving my DS to death because occasionally my games make me feel smart, and I feel like I'm using my brain once in a while now (♥ Professor Layton). But... I've reached a bit of a conundrum.

I'm going to buy a skin for it. But... I'm torn. I may get a pretty one, but I know I need an über-nerdy one. Should I dress my DS up like HAL, or old-school NES? There's something kind of funny about playing Cooking Mama on the bus during rush hour on a DS that looks like HAL-9000. But I also have a little green mushroom phone strap that I could put on it if I had the NES skin. Decisions, decisions...

Also, I've been debating how dorky it'd be to play Phoenix Wright in the lunch room at my office. I don't eat in it often, but when the weather sucks, I want to stay in and play it. But... how do I explain "I'm playing a cracktastic lawyer game" to coworkers who discuss American Idol every day and not look like a complete and total nerd (which I am, but... um, Nerd is bad to some of them).
evilhippo: hippo (106 [buttsechs])
( Jan. 28th, 2008 03:45 pm)
Someone linked this image (do click on it first, otherwise it's not as fun) in [livejournal.com profile] scans_daily. I snickered a bit like the internets geek I am, then stared at it, and stared at it, and couldn't figure out what the word was actually supposed to be (what on earth could have a b and two t's and an x and not be, well... buttsex). I didn't think that the internets had hurt my brain so badly, but when it comes to being able to tell when a word should be "subtext" and not being able to see it... there's probably a problem. Let this stand as a warning to all travelers of the internet's vast expanse.
evilhippo: hippo (101 [devious])
( Jan. 10th, 2008 01:12 am)
So, it's been a crazy three days. Monday I was up at 5:30, and maybe even though I slept in until 11:30 today, maybe my sleep schedule will stay rational, and I'll be able to get things done and not feel like a lump woooo.

And, more importantly, there's a reason for this craziness! [livejournal.com profile] sketchyheart is in town for just four days, so I've been dragging her everywhere I could think of (I'm lucky she's not dead). Monday was fantastic and warm, so we dragged our half-awake selves to the Lincoln Park Zoo (after a minor rest stop for caffeine, and some wandering on Michigan Ave.) There was a mooing lion which tried to give sketchy a kiss, and a lot of cute. Frogmouth Owls (which are not owls because their awesome measurements are not covered on the owl charts) are now among my favourite animals. Someday, I will make an entire moodtheme of them. We also hit Rotofugi on the way back, which was dangerous. I also have (yet again) revised my plan for the Christmas Cards. Which are now, possibly, Chinese New Year cards, though they will have nothing to do with Chinese New Year. And may not arrive until like, May. Who knows. It's a mystery.

Tuesday was Chinatown, which involved seeing a lot more of old Chinatown than I'm used to seeing (bakeries, tea shops... post office... random!). There was trinket shopping, there was grocery shopping, there was bubble tea. Taro-Coconut bubble tea is still wonderful, and even though they messed up my order (milk tea does not equal bubble tea. it is its own deliciousness) and then gave it to me with the tapioca it was still okay. And I was a five year-old cowboy trucker and spit most of the tapioca out along the street. And then I had to go to work, where I proceeded to fall asleep on the keyboard a lot for the second day in a row.

Aaand today we went to lunch at Panes Bread Cafe which, oddly, someone that works with my mom recommended. And it was good, and cheap, and so I recommend it too. (Sammiches! Tasty, tasty sammiches!) Then we proceeded to wander about Lakeview/Boystown, hitting all the important landmarks, like Gaymart Chicago (which has the largest selection of Doctor Who figures, still. And a very friendly staff). Listening to people answer the phone with "Gaymart! How may I help you?" is amusing. Also, I still can't walk through certain parts of Northalsted without laughing.
I think probably 90% of my friendslist has mentioned it now, and to save myself from posting a ranting reply to every single one, I should probably give my two cents. (I already ranted at [livejournal.com profile] solitaryjane...)

Because (I will probably never be forgiven for this by fandom at large), I'm probably one of the only ones who's thoroughly annoyed at this. Not because Dumbledore is gay (that's kind of cool, and I'm glad Rowling can acknowledge that there was subtext), but because JKR is freaking nuts since she discovered her own fandom and she's been self-indulgently pandering to that group of (rather obviously equally nuts at times) people since then. What's written is written. What's fandom is fandom. The two are separate for a reason, and if I could go back in time, I would personally make sure JKR never discovered her fandom until the end of the books. Because I don't think she thought of Dumbeldore as gay while she was writing the books. I think this is retroactive bull to counteract the discovery that she ended the last book with (and basically stuck completely to) a completely heterosexual "happy ending," and that wasn't likely to be 1) realistic or 2) make the slash fandom happy, and the slash fandom was the only bit of fandom she seems to have ignored. (And that ending read like fanfic, gah.)

And so, I think I should probably read the books again before I completely dismiss JKR, but... let's just say I'm kind of annoyed. You can't retroactively distinguish characters as... anything, really. If (this will be the worst comparison ever, I'm warning you now) Shakespeare had come on stage after Othello and told everyone "Oh hai guyz btw Iago is flaming!" he probably would've been egged. (Or rather, I think the point is that I would've egged him.)

And so... yeah. A really English-major sort of complaint, but... JKR, leave your books alone. (I like overanalyzing things! Definitive answers are not cool! Especially when there's no reason for them.)

Edit (slightly later): After giving this far more thought than necessary I've come to the conclusion that I can prove JKR's retconning in two words: Rita Skeeter. If Dumbledore was gay don't you think she would've said something? (My memory is not perfect, something may have been implied, but I sure don't remember it.) I mean, if homosexuality even existed previous to this point in the HP universe (and I'm pretty sure it didn't), wouldn't that be a pretty good indictment of his character? Hey guys, why didn't Dumbledore marry? Hey guys, don't you think that's a bit odd? I mean, as much as it'd be fun to pretend that she couldn't have attacked his character from that angle in the wizarding world, that they were a group that could accept homosexuality, there's just no foundation for it. There just is. no. gay. in Harry Potter. Except for the bits we have fun reading into. (And maybe this is just a lack of respect on my part, not believing that JKR was writing on multiple levels with subtext.) It's a world where everyone gets married, and lives happily ever after in heteronormativity. I think the epilogue made that abundantly clear. And when it came down to "wow, my world has no gay people," who was left? Who was left that wasn't dead before she could've expressed their love for someone in no uncertain terms, or already attached? It's just Dumbledore. He was the only choice. So there. That's what's got me all riled up. It's straight-up retconning. And that's not cool. Also, it's going to annoy me a whole lot when people start seriously asking questions like "How does this affect the relationship between Harry and Dumbledore?" like they're real people and it's scandalous because behind the scenes Dumbledore could've been hitting on him. Because people will stop seeing Dumbledore as a nice old man with a twinkle in his eye who was eons of eccentric but brilliant, and start seeing him as this label. Because that's what people do sometimes, and there's no foundation against that kind of thinking in the HP universe because she wasn't writing in those terms at all, and so there will be nothing to stop people from taking Dumbledore's homosexuality any which way they want to. I don't want to see Dumbledore become Old Man Sexual Deviant. (I guess the quota of books that were bought just to be burned by religious fanatics wasn't met for the seventh book.)

... I will probably never stop overanalyzing pop culture. Ever. Gah.
evilhippo: hippo (42 [towel])
( Aug. 22nd, 2007 11:02 pm)
A few minutes ago, it was pouring like the lake had gotten up and moved a few miles west. And into the atmosphere. (Which is unsurprising, because on my way back from work it was sticky enough that the only thing the moisture in the air hadn't accomplished was turning into droplets.)

So, in the spirit of science, I decided to bet my roommate how long it would take me to become soaked. He said 47 seconds, I said 35. In the end, I reached a state which, in my scientific opinion, qualifies as soaked in 1 minute 40 seconds. The results are now posted on our refrigerator, and this post qualifies as the electronic backup location in the event of white-board erasure data-loss.
All right, I lied. I don't know how I thought I wouldn't have to make a post tonight about the concert. That was almost certainly the best nothing I've ever spent. (Free concert! Free Decemberists concert! Free Decemberists concert with the orchestra. I can't say that enough.) I kind of want to go through everything in detail, but as fun as the beginning was, the end of the concert just completely eclipsed it. I really don't remember the beginning too well--I was next to a bunch of indie-kid snobs who talked the entire time. (I knew they were indie-kid snobs because one of them, while on the phone to his friend, uttered the unforgettable line "Yeah, like, 99% of the people here haven't even heard of them. I hate that." Frakking indie kids. Shut up and enjoy the music if that's what you're there for, no one cares about you showing off. I saw a couple that was probably close to retirement dancing away and having a blast. What were you doing? Sulking? I thought so. Stuff it. Learn to have fun.) Lesson learned from the first part of the concert: never sit near the back. Less enthusiastic people are boring. I only made that mistake, I think, because I was way early and wanted room to stretch out. I'll know better next time. BUT ANYWAY. So, the concert acheived complete awesomeness somewhere around the opening bars of The Tain. Because they played the entire thing. The entirety of The Tain, with orchestra. Ironically, this is when some people started leaving, so thankfully I decided to move up in the crowd to where people were actually standing and dancing. And suddenly the acoustics were better and everyone was enthusiastic and even the little hiccups that come from a band playing with an orchestra were easily ignored because of the general atmosphere of awesome. I happened to run into one of my Rescom colleagues, and I got to bask in his glee a little. (I think the conversation went something like "Hmm... ::taps him on the shoulder:: Hey!" "Oh hey!" "What's up?" "...The Decemberists are playing!!" "Hahaha, I noticed. I feel ridiculous being here in my interview clothes." "::actually looks at me:: Oh yeah. The Decemberists are playing WITH THE ORCHESTRA." It cannot be stated enough how much I love enthusiastic people when they're enthusiastic about things I am also enthusiastic about. I should use enthusiastic a few more times. Enthusiastic enthusiastic. It's a good word. Anyway.) There were probably several hundred indie nerds up as far as we could get (the place was PACKED), and by the time the encore came around, we'd all packed up against the barrier behind the paid seats. And though it'd been raining off and on for a while, it was finally starting to storm. So, at the concert's false-conclusion we had followed by cheering, shouting, clapping, and lightning. Then 16 Military Wives, at which point a bunch of people crashed the barriers to fill the aisles by the paid seats. And from there, it turned into a giant dance party in the open space in between, with most of the security guards split down the middle between complete amusement and (and I quote) "Oh HELL no." ("Oh hell no" was the reason I didn't jump the barrier and dance more.)

And the end... the end of the concert was one of the most amazing things I've ever witnessed. The storm was coming in, so there was lightning every 30 seconds (and probably thunder, but you wouldn't have been able to hear it over the crowd), everyone was cheering and screaming, and we all danced an interpretive dance to The Mariner's Revenge Song. Interpretive Dance. Mariner's Revenge Song. Oncoming Storm. Awesomesauce.

Of course, the storm meant I got absolutely utterly poured on on the way back (thankfully, in a rare, RARE moment of forethought, I bought a rain poncho at Walgreens before the concert... which kept me dry during the concert, but was pretty much useless against the torrential downpour that followed). But it's okay... I'm assuming my nice interview pants aren't ruined, and it was fun running from the bus stop to my apartment in the rain. I managed not to get my library book wet, and that's about all I was worried about. And the rain was warm. Nice, warm, summer downpour.

Oh, and the interview went well today. I have about a 75% chance of having a job at the bank, which is good because even though the pay isn't good, the hours are decent and it's at Belmont and Clark, which is the middle of one of my favourite neighborhoods and really easy to get to on the red line (hour and a half commute TOTAL)... plus it's close to most of the concerts I want to go to, so I can get off work (in blue jeans and a t-shirt, because it's casual) and run/hop a bus to the concert and be there relatively on time. All in all, probably better for my psyche than the publishing job, though I'm going to call them and check in tomorrow anyway... because if they want to give it to me, I'll take it. I'm just... not going to ask for it a lot.
evilhippo: hippo (88 [drama])
( Jul. 9th, 2007 04:03 pm)
I suppose it's been a while since I posted properly. Unfortunately, I don't have much to talk about. Things have been pretty standard around here... though now (thankfully) I'm mostly over the semi-breakdown I had a few days ago. My job search is still largely barren, but I've finally got motivation enough to go restaurant-hopping tomorrow. I've got four on my list, and a map in my head. Hopefully this will result in something. (I just got a call from the bank I applied to... that's something. I shall call them back in a few minutes. Though I must say... what's with people having names I can't parse? It makes calling back so much more stressful than necessary.)

About the only eventful thing lately was going up to the observatory on Ryerson a few nights ago. It was surprisingly clear for a Chicago night, so we got a good look at the moon and Jupiter and a few random stars. I had trouble figuring out whether it was cooler we were using the same telescope Carl Sagan had used at one point, or that we were on top of a campus building at 2 in the morning when we probably weren't allowed to be (yay for friends with keys to buildings). I also couldn't help thinking how dorky it'd be to get arrested for trespassing when that trespassing was for the purpose of stargazing.

And so, that's pretty much my life. There's also an apartment that I need to call about, because it looks promising (free laundry!)... but I shall take things one at a time. Bank first.

P.S. Phone interview tomorrow morning at 11 for an actual publishing job. Frak. Time to work on sounding confident.
Dear Internets,

Windows Vista is annoying. I am switching to Linux. (Maybe I should've gotten an Intel Mac... then I could teach it to boot into three operating systems! Two of which would be useless to me!). That is all.


P.S. I lied, that's not all. My new computer is here! And it's pretty and happy and omg I can't work it because Vista is evil and counter-intuitve (and I think I've already broken it... oops. Oh wait, it just takes like, five minutes to load... nevermind. Vista, you are stupid. Pretty, but stupid. Which is not how computers are meant to be!) Oh, and Vista? Your inability to update the antivirus is terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. I hope that someday you don't take eleventy billion years to load. Also, when I tell you to turn off, you turn off. Don't just pretend and then go to the login screen as soon as I turn you back on. Don't hide the option to restart where I can't find it on the first try!

In more positive news, even though the new Office is kind of cluttered and weird looking, it actually kind of looks like it might actually have some useful features.

I'm going to have to get used to the new keyboard, though. It's keys aren't as deep as mine are. Le sigh. Oh well. I'll live.

Yay, new computer!! (Yay, breaking in (mostly just breaking) my new computer!)

(Goshdarnit Vista let me remap the keys!)

P.P.S. I think I broke Ubuntu, too....

P.P.P.S. Oh, and Vista? Really, even if you think it's polite, you really don't need to ask me if it was me that changed your firewall settings, and if I meant to do it. I'm sure you felt me click. Of course it was me. Also, you seriously don't need to explain what a screen saver is. (It is cool and super-nice of you, though, to keep your system files on a separate partition from the user files. At least, it looks like that's what you've done. Thank you. I was going to do that anyway.)

P.P.P.P.S. Ha! I win! Finally got my display drivers working. Yaaaaay Ubuntu! I am never using Vista again!
Tonight, I went running in the rain with my roomies. Hannah went for a brief, very cold swim, then told us how to monitor for hypothermia and how to treat it. (It's a good thing she's prepared for the apocalypse.) I don't know what I'd do without my roomies. I'd have consumed a bit less of Lake Michigan when some of it decided to sneak up and fall on top of me (I'll admit I screamed a bit--the lake is still cold!), but I figure that's a fair trade for the stress relief and random. Apparently this storm coming through was supposed to be really intense. It did a decent job of soaking us, but the lake did it better, since we were foolish enough to stand near it.

If I could get myself to be less sick of my BA and actually work on it, I'd be doing quite well. I have the rights to a car with which to race the 171 down South Shore, and I've got someone's word that I can launch them into space if I can build a rocket powered by Diet Coke and Mentos (the current plans involve a kind of time-release capsule, like Tylenol).

Must be less sick of my BA...

I still haven't seen the new episode of Doctor Who. Goshdarn people getting back late tonight.


evilhippo: hippo (Default)


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