oops.

Friggin wires aren't labeled. I figured I'd try it and if the heat didn't work, I'd just switch around the wires.

I was just reading a food blog (what? I'm the only person in my office. Deadsville today.) and the native Texan author was talking about the heresy of screwing up Texas pecans.

Texas is such a funny thing. It seems that everyone has an opinion or an impression of it. In foreign countries, people automatically make assumptions about someone from Texas that they wouldn't make from someone from...Idaho, or Tennessee. Everyone can immediately identify the state from the shape. 

I am not proud to be from Texas. There are lots of things I love about it, but they have more to do with geography and landscape than with any kind of state identity. I have never heard thunderstorms like the ones in Texas, where the thunder makes your ribcage shake and  you feel the power of the storm through your whole body. I've never been in a place where I could turn in a 180 degree circle and see the stars meeting the ground all the way around me, like being in my own private dome of uninterrupted sky. The pine forests. The amazing soil. The smell of the land (okay, I'm sure that's probably about the same as the smell of the dirt anywhere.)

But what I miss most are the assumptions one can make. When you talk about pecans to a person from Texas, you know immediately which camp they'll fall into. Same with grapefruits. The idea that the shade of a parking spot is much more valuable than proximity to an entrance. The respect for personal space. 

I had that crazy roommate from Texas. We did have some good days, borne primarily from the things we had in common, even though I really didn't like her much as a person. But reading that entry I was reminded that she definitely knew about pecans, pronounced them right, and kept her hands off my damned nuts even when she was tempted to keep her hands around my throat. 

I work smack dab in the middle of a bunch of research hospitals, which translates to few ambulances but lots of long-term hotel rooms. Yesterday I saw leaning against the wall of one of them a man dressed in traditional Hasidic Jewish clothing: all black, white prayer shawl with the fringe hanging down, yarmulke, prayer curls, etc. He was smoking a cigarette and talking on a cell phone.

Halloween costume?  

I saw a lady driving a red BMW Z3 today...and knitting at the same time. I think it was a sock.
Name three things wrong with this picture.

Found a man's wallet today with about $250 in cash in it. Two defunct credit cards (the banks don't even have enough account information to contact the man), a non-government-issued non-US-resident state ID (private company; didn't know such a thing existed), and a certificate that the owner is a resident of Brazil.

None of my attempts to reach this guy have yielded anything. I posted signs where I found the wallet that say GLEGORY COSTA [yes, it's really spelled that way]! I found your wallet--please contact me at [number] to verify the contents so I can return it to you.

Obviously I'd rather this guy get his wallet & all contents back. That's what I fervently want. But if I can't find him at all, then what?

This is my day right now:
5:30 AM wake up, feed cats, put on gym clothes
6:00 AM at gym, work out. Alternatively, stare at gym machine and try to figure out what body part goes where. Shrug and do situps on the floor.
6:40 AM back at home, remember that I'm trying to catch a bus at 6:56 and I still have to shower. Look up next bus.
7:00 AM leave house
7:20 AM catch 7:22 AM bus (EARLY? wtf?!)
8:00 AM arrive at work
5:00 PM leave work with most of uneaten lunch, too tired even to snack
6:00 PM arrive home (still can't figure out why it takes a half hour to get to the office, an hour to get back. Traffic?)
6:01 PM feed cats, consider dinner, open mail, check email (no personal email at work, so it all waits until I get home)
8:00 PM remember that I was going to eat. Consider bowl of cereal. Study/do homework.
9:20 PM Crap. it's too late to eat now. I hope toothpaste has some nutritional value.
9:30 PM Asleep

I'm really hungry. But damn I'm tired. Tired wins out.

She's gone now. The church is being converted to affordable housing/condos.

I am tired. Not complainey tired. Not sleepy tired. Vigorously wiped out. It's all good, though.

Can't say too much about the new job except that it takes a long, long time to get permissions set up in the networks to do, well, anything. So when I actually get to do my job, then I'll have some work to do. Oh yeah, no email access, no LJ access, no instant messenger--they've got it all locked down tight.

Got a new haircut last night and feel like a rockstar with it.

Looking forward to not working this weekend--first weekend since the one after July 4.

Yeah.

Round waffles don't follow the rules. I always hated the fact that despite the orderly grid inside, they could not be cut into perfect squares. When eating a square waffle, there was always only one right way to do it, and if I messed up, I'd get a stomachache and not be able to finish. With square waffles, you eat each corner piece with four holes first. Then, with the remaining cross, you ate each projecting piece, leaving the center square. Finally, you ate that square. The waffle had to be balanced at all times, so you had to cut the next piece while eating.

Round waffles were just horrible, inedible.

Then I got a waffle maker that makes my waffle with a big round swirl instead of little squares. Ahh, relaxation.

It's been a much more productive day than those boring workdays usually are. In addition to all the normal chores (groceries, housecleaning, laundry) that I do every weekend, I also hit the farmer's market, took my first org. chem test, read & completed assignments for another chem chapter, took that quiz and completed my next lab, and made apple ginger muffins.

And it's not even 5:00 yet.

Tomorrow I'm working a catering job all day, so I wanted to get all the work part done today so I could relax with a book tomorrow evening. This coming week is my last week at my current job and I have plans every single evening after work (that don't include chemistry homework.)

I find it oddly difficult to avoid the studying--I like this about the self paced class. The sooner I get it all done, the sooner it's OVER.

Because I'm the first resident at my address, there are a handful of extra new-homeowner things I have to handle, like getting a gas meter installed. My condo is all electric, but there's a gas powered space heater installed (taking up precious floor space) in my living room. I was told it's optional, and I spent a few evenings with my limited tools trying like hell to disconnect the thing (it's hooked up to a gas line, but the gas line isn't attached to anything because there's no meter.) Another resident told me that the electric bill is four times the cost of the gas one if I rely on electric heating, so I finally decided to keep the spacehogging heater. ( Read more... )

The man checking me out at the grocery store spoke in a heavy Russian, Ukranian, Bosnian...some kind of -ian accent. "Jo-y Lew-is. What is that?" I looked around, wondering if he'd seen my credit card as I swiped it upside down, and then realized that I still had my name tag on from church (I hate that.) "That's my name." I told him, and he said, "Oh, it is the name of a group you belong to? I know the word Joy, but I do not know what is the Lewis."

"My name," I said, pulling out my credit card to show him. Because, you know, a credit card is the surest form of identification. :)

Chemistry is kind of fun, knowing that I don't have a ton riding on it. I'm realizing over and over how much I don't understand (I still don't get why some things have higher boiling points than others. I get that it has to do with hydrogen bonds, but unless it's making water as a byproduct, I don't get where the hydrogen is going. And isn't that a weak bond?) As I sit going over equations, glad for the fact that the tests are multiple choice, I know I'll never be a chemist as I say "see oh three, see oh two, dash ess dash oh..." How long would it take before I would automatically recognize a methyl group as such and not just letters?

I dreamed last night that my best friend's new fiance turned a gun on her. True to real life, in seeing that, I charged him. He shot me but I kept going until I managed to wrestle him (6'3", policeman) to the ground, pinned his arms behind him, and shot him in the head before I died. I woke up crying, knowing that with her in TX, there would be nothing I could do. I totally trust her judgement, but I also know that she hasn't known him long enough to know if he has a bad temper or a dark controlling side. I know that my own reservations are based only on my mistrusts, and don't apply to her or to her situation. All the same, if he does pull something like that, I'd never get over not warning her. In my shoes, what would you do? I don't want to butt in, I don't want to caution her, I don't want to rain on her parade. I know people on that police force with significant seniority. Could I ask one of them to check his records? Or should I just write it off as a silly dream?

This is the best chemistry class I've ever taken. I'm listening to my own music and drinking a beer.

The guy at the Genius bar said, "I have to tell you, I'm standing here in complete shock that your computer is still working." Er, great. ?

4.5 year old iBook, but it works like a top. Some applications are kind of slow, but it's manageable. I know if I need to use iPhoto, I'll open the application and then go do the dishes and hopefully by the time I'm done it will be open. He also laughed at the fact that the computer was only equipped with 256 mb ram. I didn't feel like he was making fun of me--it was more like looking at an old Commodore 64 and remembering how cool they seemed way back then.

Anyway, I'd spent an hour on the phone yesterday with Netgear trying to reconfigure the permissions on the router to break down the firewall. That was after spending a week doing email exchanges with tech support in India (I hate being on the phone and would rather have a solution take a week than an hour if I can avoid getting on the phone.) However, it took a week for the Indian tech support to realize that me saying, "I have a Mac, an iBook G4" to mean MAC computer. Doesn't run Windows. Windows solutions don't work on a Mac. Ohhhh. Netgear was absolutely stymied as to what was wrong with my machine. We reset and reconfigured the router at least twice on the phone (and this is after 3 attempts on my own before this whole rigamarole).

The problem? I haven't repaired the permissions under disk utilities in 4.5 years. This was what floored the Mac guy. No way? Seriously? He kept saying, with one of those laughs that indicates not quite disbelief but amazement that such a thing could have happened. He thinks if I upgrade the memory and use a portable hard drive to back up the system, I might get another year out of the machine, but he said I'm on some serious borrowed time now. (Borrowed from the three previous PC laptops, maybe? Every one of those died a fiery death within a year.)

Yikes.

I had a third interview last night. I was almost late due to a delayed bus, but I made it there. The interview itself went fine. I was focused and enjoyed talking with the man (interviews never make me nervous, unless I'm late and at a disadvantage.) When I left I changed into my regular summer office attire (skirt and a t-shirt) in the lobby bathroom. When I did that, I realized that there was a dime sized hole in the back of my suit jacket. Damned moths! Cedar blocks and lavendar sachets be hanged--I still haven't found a way to get rid of those horrible moths.

What's weird is that I had a restless night of sleep dreaming of precisely those moths (I haven't seen any at all in over a year, for the record). What a weird coincidence.

The company has spent today calling and checking my references--I've gotten a couple of calls from my references saying, "I think they really like you. I think it's in the bag."

This is my distant second choice company, though. The people are great, but the benefits aren't. Neither is the commute. And worst of all is the job itself. No question I'd be bored doing straight admin work for two people. They've even said there will be times when I'm sitting there with nothing to do, but they just want me to be there. Bleah. I'm leaving because I'm overworked, but I don't want boredom as a trade-off...

My first choice company should be able to make an offer next week when I interview with the man coming back from his vacation on Monday.

If I dream of moths before that interview, I'll be very careful to check my clothes before I leave. Good to know, though, that a motheaten suit doesn't negatively impact a job hunt.

That's what the sign says.
I love everything about this picture. I love the fact that it's a Hellcat trail. I love the fact that my giant brother is still menaced by me, and that he has to carry the frisbee. We didn't end up throwing the frisbee because shortly after this photo was taken we were tearing at full speed down the trail pursued by swarms of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. We found respite on the beach but both my brother and I are on high alert around bodies of water, so we didn't do any frisbee-ing (plus, I have terrible aim.)

Plum Island was gorgeous.