Friday, October 29, 2004

Tricks, then Treats: UPDATED

OY there’s not much time left this morning for me to get a post up for y’all but luckily I don’t have much on my mind (stop snickering) so it shouldn’t take too long.

* “Et tu, Brutus?  Yet you flew under my RADAR ere the ides were well upon me, a SCUBA diver in the Tiber...” these are examples of anachronyms - words made out of initials of other words used in an incorrect time-context.  Feel free to pepper your speech with them.  (not taken from, but inspiring a visit to, this site, which is pretty amusing.)

* Where does flannel come from?  Make a note, because Kel told me recently: Flannel comes from flanimals.  UPDATE: the interest in flanimals made me wonder if we weren’t the first to think of them; it appears we weren’t quite first but we’re in good company I think.  Ricky Gervais is hereby inadvertently plugged, and he’d better remember it come the holidays, which are damn near now, so get shopping, Rickles!  (Don’t forget, now: allergic to walnuts; partial to suede.)

* Since I’m not doing squat for halloween, here’s my costume idea, which I offer for general misappropriation: a vampire prognosticator who can predict when your neck will get perforated and your lifesblood drained from your undead body.  I call him “Nosferatudamus.”

Today is a big committee meeting at which I help some very wise and clever people decide how to divide $950,000 in grant money among $1.7M in requests.  It’ll be mentally draining.  Luckily my brain will not be required at my evening engagement in the victorian opulence of the Great American Music Hall where the Masters of the B-3 show is at 8 pm.  (or at 10:30 but we get up at 5 these days so that’s a non-starter).  They’re so funky it’s SCARY. 

Oops, time to run.  Have a great weekend and don’t eat any unwrapped razor blades!

Thursday, October 28, 2004

I’m Confused.

okay, for those of you with high-speed connections, what do you make of this?

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Time and Again

I’ve had a busy and gratifying day.  I got to work early and met briefly with a development director who’d stopped by to introduce herself, then ran to the AOC (where the judges hang out) for a five hour conference THAT ENDED AN HOUR EARLY in which I actually was a useful participant, and then I voted in the overheated but cheerfully-staffed basement of city hall (as I settled down with my ballot I saw a “weirdo” ((technical term)) ambling down the halls exclaiming that there “sure was a lot of interest in this election").  When I got back to the office I found my mail-order shirts had finally arrived, and I’m expecting free shoes from the above-referenced development director soon because I’ve cut her some breaks and it turns out she owns a birkenstock store.  And, the further to sugar the watermelon that is my life, tomorrow might be sort of easier than today was.  My “busy season” that lasts from February through October is just about over.  Does that leave me with more time for personal pursuits?  Only if I manage it properly.  Which brings to mind a little ditty I wrote, oh, two years or so ago, which I have pinned to the cube-wall I’m facing as I type this.  I keep it there as a reminder to myself to manage my time thoughtfully.  I’m not too proud of the way I’ve been applying its lessons lately, though, so I’m going to motivate myself with the age-old tool of sheer guilt by posting it here for (somebody) to see, and then I’ll feel compelled to be more attentive.  Or not.  Time will tell.