October 30, 2003
We’ve gotten into the habit of keeping our respective task lists on the whiteboards outside our doors. It’s a convenient place to keep it, for sure, but mostly the benefit is that we get to change each others’ in a delightfully witty manner.
Just so you know where you stand:
If you can figure out in less than five seconds how many strokes of the pen it takes to turn
[quote]Study For CS GRE[/quote]
[quote]Stud For Ass Grease[/quote]
then you are on your way to getting up to our level of wittiness. If you’re still snickering because I said “strokes” a few sentences back, congratulations.
So I encourage you to take a look at our whiteboards every once in a while when you’re over. And feel free to add. This is, after all, a collective creation.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I apparently have to get back to making a “bitch cake” and “burning cds of gay porn.”
October 29, 2003
On Monday when I was in Frary for breakfast, I noticed a sign on the salad bar area that said:
[quote]There is no salad bar this evening. It has been donated to the firefighters and victims of the fire.[/quote]
I wasn’t there for a meal that would actually have a salad bar, so it didn’t affect me at all. However, I’m still not too happy about it.
Don’t get me wrong. I think that donating to the victims is a nice gesture. Had the option been given, I’d have seriously considered it. But the option wasn’t given. They didn’t ask people to donate meals, they just failed to provide part of it unilaterally. If the administration wanted to make a donation, they have ample funds to do so without taking our spinach. And somehow I doubt that there was enough of a food transportation problem that we would have to give up our food for others to eat.
Now, if you went to a drive through, got and paid for your food, then got home ot find a note where your fries were supposed to be that said:
[quote]Your fries have been donated to cure cancer[/quote]
I’m pretty sure you’d be pissed about it, regardless of your stance toward cancer. The dining hall is the same way. You go in, pay your meal at the door, and then walk into the service area to find that some kind of food that you expected to get isn’t there.
Coming back from breakfast today, I passed the wall (Walker Wall?) on Pomona where everybody paints a mural to their favorite cause and noticed that this month is Breast Awareness Month. It’s not clear whether it’s a National Awareness Month, or just something the Pomonites dreamed up. Nevertheless, I was shocked to look deep within myself and realize that, even on the most important twelfth-of-a-year for it, I’ve been lax in my awareness of breasts.
Starting today, in the spirit of fraternity and National Monthliness, I pledge to be ever vigilant in my continued and increased awareness of breasts. No more will I blithely pass by breasts, unaware of their presence. This apathy must stop, and it must stop now.
I urge all of you to join me in my quest to remain aware of breasts for the remainder of this month. Since the month is nearly over, we’ll have to act quickly, but the payoff will be worth it. We can establish a hotline (I volunteer my number) to keep abreast (I know, I know. But I had to.) of breast anti-awareness zones and to coordinate quick action.
Also, be sure to kindly greet any breasts you may see with a smile, a glance toward their owner, and a clearly spoken: “I am aware of your breasts.”
It’s the least we can do.
October 27, 2003
Ok, there needs to be this kind of scavenger hunt around here somewhere!
Update for those elsewhere:
It looks like the fire near us has passed Claremont by. It’s now burning to the west of us. The air is still full of crud, so I’m wearing the facial mask when I go outside for any length of time, except that I’m not going outside if I can help it at all.
October 26, 2003
Ok, I didn’t get many, because I only took pictures during one song, but here they are. If anyone has other pictures, give ’em over and I’ll put them up, especially of us in our costumes.
- It really hurts.
- A lot.
- Your friends look at you funny when you return their tools with blood on them.
October 24, 2003
It was raining ash today. The fire over in Rancho/wherever has been raging, and its dumping ash into Claremont. The sun was a bright orange when I got up this morning and the sky was even muddier than usual. I blame clinic.
See, I have this theory that my clinic teleconferences are cursed. Perhaps some minor deity in charge of corporate productivity, or telephonic connectivity has been slighted, and the full fury of his wrath shall be borne by the people of Rancho Cucamonga (could also the be the demon of silly names). So far we are 1 for 5 on successful conference calls, with no indication that things will improve. The one that actually worked was a month ago. Since then, we’ve had three failures:
- The conference call service didn’t work, so after about 40 minutes of waiting, we got an email from Brian, so we called him at his office. Mike could not connect.
- The conference call service was not set up. After waiting 20 minutes, we called Brian, who had just gotten back from a trip to Boston, and had forgotten our call.
- Today, we connected to the conference call, the conversation started with all present, and we got nearly forty seconds into our talk when the power in all the buildings went down. The fire.
I also hear that there is increased sunspot action that will be interfering with communications for a while, so I can already predict what will happen next week. The thing that really worries me, though, is that the week after that, we’re supposed to have a face-to-face meeting. Now, there’s little that could affect Los Angeles so greatly that someone was unable to drive from Fullerton to Claremont, so I think the astute among you have already reached the same conclusion that I have:
The Big One.
Here‘s a report on Wired about Spam hitting movabletype weblogs.
I am so on the front wave.