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January 29th, 2008

I decided to make yesterday's blog entry "friends only," due its slight potential to be hurtful.



I worked from home this morning, attending the first 10 minutes of the ITIM IDD (Information Development & Design) team conference call, and then working the rest of the afternoon from Helios, where Kevin (av8rdude) and Kurt joined me.

I'm almost halfway through an edit of a 187-page document. It's taking me longer than I want it to.



I spoke on the phone today with Richard Perry, who is the grandson of Milton Perry, who was the husband of my friend Jeane, who I just visited this past weekend.

What a nice guy. He shared a "memory snapshot" of a time he went to work with his granddad, when he (Milton, totally blind) was running a concession store in a government building in Washington, DC many years ago.

I followed up our phone call with an e-mail to him with Jeane's current address and phone number so that he can be in touch with her. He responded with this most interesting picture of Milton in his younger days.



This is the only picture I have of Milton, and it's, of course, how I knew and remember him:





I attended an NCSU STC student community event planning meeting at Global Village from 5:15–6:00 with Jen Riehle, Andrew Armstrong, John Strange, and Christin Phelps. We're planning a Games Night for February 22, and we got some basic things decided upon and distributed some action items.



Tonight's workout stats:
TypeMinutesCalories
Burned

Elliptical

60

918


There were some totally hot men there tonight.



I went to karaoke at Flex at just after 10:00. Kevin (av8rdude) and Kurt had planned to meet me, but never did.

One straight girl was there with her gay friend, and she was so totally shit-faced. At one point, she stumbled into a table and knocked over two beer bottles, sending one to shatter on the floor. 

While singing one of her karaoke songs, she kept facing one of the two monitors behind her to read the words to her song, when there is a monitor for the singers in front of them, facing them so they face the audience when they sing of course. Michael Lester went up there, took her cheeks in his hand and forced her head around to notice the screen right in front of her. She kept resisting him thinking he was trying to throw her off, but then finally got what he was trying to tell her. Have another drink, missy.

A little bit later, she went up to the stage when someone else was singing, and she grabbed the microphone stand, which of course had no microphone in it, since the person who was actually singing was using it, and she started singing into it like she was a rock star—totally oblivious to the fact that it had no amplification qualities to it at all.

I kept waiting for her to call Earl across the room. She was an absolute mess. Bless her heart.

I left all the fun at right about midnight.



Bumper sticker spotted on the way home:
 Anyone else
 for president. 
Amen!

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