serinde

The theme of the week is "insects".

1) As previously mentioned, we developed some ants in the computer room. (Why? How? These remain unanswered.) Not a huge huge problem, but a problem. The exterminator was called, but failed to show last week; we are trying again today, which I await (sometime between noon and 4pm HA HA HA).

2) Beelzebub has re-emerged in the garage. Why and How are again blank--usually flies have been the result of a bag of garbage that failed to make it to the curb for way too long, but for once that hasn't happened, which is a little disturbing because in prior experience they keep coming until the vector is removed, and what vector?. So we have been getting flies in the house since Tues. or so. Nasty. Not actively harmful, but not nice.

3) The morning's project was to see if I could get Lurch running again[1]. I knew he wouldn't start, since he's been sitting for nigh a year, and his tire is flat, but I have the power to charge battery and inflate tires at the least. Instead, what I found is that, once again, the wasps had come and built a nest inside his door frame. ahghfhdfjkdlfjkl I HATE WASPS. Hate hate HATE HATE hate HATE HATE hate, with a side of HATE. Most of you are familiar with my arachnophobia, but I don't actually dislike spiders, I just have irrational horrors of sharing space with them; I don't want them dead. But if I could read a scroll of genocide on the entire wasp tribe, I would instantly, and I would laugh maniacally while doing it. So I've spent the last hour duelling them with a broomstick and a can of wasp killer. I've got the nest, and a bunch of soldiers, but there's still a bunch buzzing around angrily (and I can't just move Lurch out of the way, obviously). So I'm waiting for them to either settle down and be killed in a genteel fashion, or go away and find some other location to pester. Then I shall perform car resuscitation, if possible.

[1] This, because the notion of me taking Womble was predicated on Steve and me moving out roughly simultaneously, and he didn't reckon on needing (or wanting) a vehicle in Hoboken, so that worked out well; but since the timing is skewed, he will certainly still need a car as long as his primary residence is out here in Suburbia, so if I can bring Lurch back into operation then we will each be provided for.

In addition to the obvious ones that we all put up with in public restrooms such as "peeing on the seat", and the entertaining & special varieties encountered in $JOB-1's facilities such as "leaving the door open when you're doing your business" (!!!) and "smoking a doob in the tiny tiny stall", I can add a new one: However much you are relieved by your evacuations, please avoid an accompaniment (or counterpoint, as it were) of loud, contented gasps and groans. I don't need to know how much fun you're having. Really.

Yesterday I took the day off and, with massive amounts of help from caelfinn and Husband-of-sedai for which I am eternally grateful, moved a bunch of STUF over to nedlnthred's (if I think I'll need it in the next N months) and sweh's (if I don't). Most of it was not so very bad, but my dresser is about 5x heavier than I thought, particularly when moving up Beth's narrow, U-turning, 1880s-era staircase. Yerg.

However, the job was completed, and we rested, ate, and refreshed ourselves before I came back into town to attend the first iteration of this year's Midsummer Night Swing with elibalin. This was fun, but with many "but"s. The dance floor was insanely crowded, so that one could barely move, and so we kept getting stepped on and kicked and what not. This is bad enough by itself, but I was also feeling extremely out-of-my-element, having never swing-danced before, and uncoordinated as I am, I was pretty nervous and high-strung about the whole thing. Also, I wore very wrong shoes: I selected for "slidey soles for dance floor", but they are not long-term comfortable at all, and the dance floor was not very slidey anyways, so I would have done better to gone for comfort instead. Finally, I would like to express my disapprobation at the bunch of people who were standing on the dance floor, not dancing, in the middle of the stage, just to listen to the music. NOT A CONCERT, JERKS. Anyways: after while, I was feeling tired, and my leg and knee and feet were aching, and I was starting to get a headache, so we packed it in early with an intent to come better prepared for our next attempt. This proved wise, because by the time I got on the train home, I felt like my head was clamped in a vise with extra spikes stuck through my eyeballs, interspersed with flashes of nausea. Would this be a migraine? Whether or no, it was really unpleasant and I'd like to not have any more of that--but I don't know what caused it so I don't know how to avoid it. Bah. Got home, took Vitamin I, went to bed with a damp cloth over my eyes. (Thankfully, I seem fine today, if exhausted.)

I have been dithering for several weeks about mailing the Graduate Center with the "o hai I can haz free PhD?", getting the details of how it works and is there any wiggle room in the requirements for us full-time working slobs and whatnot, because I'm really wussy about contacting people out of the blue, even if I have good reason. And finally, today as I stared at the accusingly-red item in OmniFocus's task list, it occurred to me: If I don't have the cojones to even send a Goddamn email to a Goddamn published contact address, then I am not worthy to be Madame Doctor Swann.

Mail is now sent.

Edit: And autoresponded 'cause the office is closed for vacation HA HA HA.

However, liberal applications of Old Fashioneds may also cause one to fall down the steps. But that's okay, because you'll be relaxed enough to take the fall with little scathe.

"I'm afraid I have to ask-- Is that a holy hippogriff?" --the DM

Steve just found a link to a project digitizing old cylinders (that's what came before records, kids).

Woke up at 6:30 and couldn't get back to sleep, oh well.

Exercise Win: 1 hour 5 min. of Wii Fit, followed by a half-hour walk. I'm sorta sleepy now, but that could also be onaccounta NO COFFEE YET.

Later, I shall have lunch (or tea, really) with caelfinn, and then we will meet elibalin at the Met. You can come too! Text me if you think you might.

As expected, for summer hours I have two train choices: "too early" and "too late". The 6:31 train got me here at 7:40, and it would have been slightly earlier except that I had to wait an unusually long time for the F. (The next train, 6:56, generated an arrival time of ~8:13.) I am also deeply offended that I have to be leaving the house earlier than I had been accustomed to getting up. I didn't much mind getting up stupid early for exercise purposes, but this is weaksauce.

The 6:31 train was mobbed. WHAT THE FUCK, AMERICA. It is to be noted that the connector was much less so, and you coulda fired a cannon through the subway car I was on; thus I can extrapolate that most of that mob was going to Wall St. and/or Exchange Place. Well, and there you have it. But one of the few crumbs of consolation I was expecting out of this was a nice empty train for 20 minutes, and I find this is Not Mine.

I was in meetings all day (and not having a joyous day to begin with). Just got back from last one, to find that my cellphone had voicemail from my doctor, who has just gotten my knee X-rays. Quoth he, there is a degenerative bone spur (?) in my knee, which there is not a lot they can do anything about, but he'll set up an appointment with a specialist with me to answer any questions.

I am not coping with this in a manner consonant with my usual poise and capability.