The recently discovered “Hobbit man” has us realizing that man’s ancestry wasn’t staid and orderly, but messier. More like a bush than a ladder. Perhaps Hobbits and Yetis exist in our consciousness because we remember meeting them? Check out this awesome coverage in the Flores man special at news@nature.com.
In an effort to make my life as complicated as possible, I’ve reserved iowachicksknitting.com [note: this link may not work outside the LISCO network until DNS is propegated across the webspace] and am planning to move the knitting blog to its own domain. Since I’m forced to use the Berkeley Db on LISCO’s servers (rather than MySQL), this should prove to be a total pain. Whee!
Yesterday I had mild cramping and the lightest of spotting.
Ditto today.
I don’t think this little bundle of cells is any more viable than previous ones; I think it’s just a matter of time now.
So far I feel only just the slightest bit crazy, so the end isn’t right around the corner, I have to wait for it. I wish it would just fall out now and save me the week and a half of hormones and pain.
Sheesh. What did I do to deserve this?!
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I bought one of these when I was a student at MIU and I’ve used the hell out of it. Now it’s old and the cup is broken, and I want a new one! It’s the Nissan Travel Companion 0.79-Quart Stainless-Steel Insulated Bottle!
In surfing random blogs these past few weeks, I’ve noticed that a lot of people use “walla” when they mean “voila.”
This bugs me.
It bugs me almost as much as the rampant abuse of contractions one sees out there. People misuse apostrophes constantly, I can’t stand it!
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Bucket just gave me a homemade chocolate-cherry taffy that he made himself and it was so good! Like a Tootsie Roll, only deliciouser!
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Did I ever tell you about the day I dropped out of MIU?
It’s not MIU now, of course. It’s MUM, short for Maharishi University of Management (which is completely absurd as roos can barely ‘manage’ to drive from Annapurna dining hall to the Golden Domes of Pure Knowledge without killing dogs and children in the street with their beat up old ugly cars, but there it is).
I majored in Literature. I was taking ‘The Transcendentalists: American Literature in the Eighteen Hundreds’ or something similar, with this amazing little mini-prof named Dr. Setzer. I was pulling something comfortably above a 3.5 GPA. I was the darling in most of my classes, and teachers and co-students alike appeared to love me.
My pod room in The Candy Shop was cool-looking, and I had a hotplate and a little fridge, and my room was situated early enough in the HVAC loop that I got heat and air, but late enough that I didn’t get too much of either and freeze or dry up – something of a major coup in dorm life.
I sang in a band, which in a town this size made me a rock star. I laid any boy I wanted and was proud of that (as I still hadn’t figured out that women, not men, decide who gets laid. I’m a late bloomer, what can I say).
I had ample student loans to cover the outrageous amounts of tuition, room, and board MIU charges, and was paying those bastards good money for the whole experience.
But I didn’t go to group program.
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Mr. Brett, bless his fuzzy little heart, said last night that I could have one of these (ultra-geeky 007 Zippo cameras) for Christmas if I want!
But really, I might need an iPod instead. Or perhaps an iPod Photo. Or an iPod mini! (Damn but they’re cute!) (But which color?!) With a protective case, and a cassette kit so I can dig tunes in my car!
So many tiny gadgets to choose from! Ooooh, Christmas! (See, this is what happens when your hubby decides to buy himself a new truck the month before X-mas: you get to pick yourself out a super-trick prezzie. Yay!)
If I had one of these, it would be way cool. I have this huge box of old cassette tapes, you see: recordings of bands I was in, obscure Hall & Oates albums, shit tapes from friends… sigh.
It’s five thirty and it’s pitch black outside.
Fuck this. I loathe and despise DST. I always have. I always will. It’s the stupidest fucking thing in the world.
FARMERS DRIVE TRACTORS WITH HEADLIGHTS ON THEM!!! AND THEY TEND TO DO IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GODDAMNED NIGHT!! THERE’S NO REASON TO FUCK UP MY BIORHYTHMS FOR PEOPLE WHO NO LONGER NEED AN EARLIER GODDAMNED MORNING! FOR CHRISSAKE, PEOPLE!!! STOP THE MADNESS!!!
