95% habit, 5% content
a. I am a too easy, too cheesy, test writer. The average on the first exam was 79.3 and the average for the second exam was 85.9. These scores are too high for a biology class that is required for the majors and pre-meds. I fear that the final is a cakewalk too.
b. There is a correlation between me being an irritable, erratic, wacky driver and my coffee consumption.
c. "A million lights are dancing and there you are a shooting star... Xanadu, Xanadu-u-u"
d. I parked My Guy's car, fed the meter for 2.5 hours, came back to find 26 minutes left on the meter and I have a ticket for a "meter expired" parking violation. ("Something is rotten in the state of Denmark." ("I stole that from Willie the Shake, you know, neither a borrower nor a lender be," -Joni Mitchell))
e. I wonder if I actually share anything in common with the folks whose blogger profiles list the same interests, movies, music, or books. It's overwhelming actually to see how many people like dancing or the movie "Mallrats". If we all met at an "I like the movie Mallrats" convention would it be love? Would we share a big squishy group hug and talk about the clairvoyant nipple?
f. Up to this point Tweety was sitting on my lap purring.
g. There is a stencil art show opening tonight. Free wine which I will not be drinking b/c I promised my advisor a substantial chunk of my thesis some of which must be done tonight.
h. Part of my paycheck was direct deposited to an account I closed and has bounced back into the ether.
i. I read other people's profiles on (Blogger and now Friendster) and they mention really good stuff that I did not. "Phantom Tollbooth" is such a good book. "This Band Could Be Your Life," an interesting read. "Harold and Maude," a fabulous movie. And I think, "How could I have forgotten that one?"
j. I like the folks whose profiles have unique interests. Jay has a real flair for this. I have since ganked this. (The endeavor, not the actual interests.)
k. I am trying to divest myself of some of my worldly possessions before I move. It's like the practice of self-dentistry with no anesthetic.
Me, hugging three volumes of textbook about programming in Logo singing "How am I supposed to live without youuuu ...." G, shaking her head in disgust and disbelief, regretting her offer to help me.
"What's that?!" I still hear her demand, the sharp inflection in her voice, when we pushed boxes against the wall only to find the stuff that was hiding behind other stuff. Some debts and favors can never be repaid.