I watched The Wire: Season 1: Episode 9: Game Day. Intense.
I meant to capture this note I got from the dean of CHASS after the one I sent him thanking him for his thank you note, and rewarding the rhetoric he used in that note by matching my previous donation. Got that?
Your cogent deconstruction of my deployment of rhetorical devices, your positive reinforcement of the behavior you wish to encourage—what can I say?! Well, I guess I can say one thing—I'm truly thankful to have the privilege to represent the college (and your check!).
On my way to the library, I got behind a U.S. Mail truck, and I followed him all the way to the back of the post office, where he was parking his truck to end his day. I gave him my parents' anniversary card, for which I'd already missed the box pick-ups for today. I appreciated his taking it with a smile.
While driving the rest of the way to the library, I checked in with mom and dad, since today is their 56th wedding anniversary. I was glad to find them both in good health (at least for the time being). They'd been out to Red Lobster for an anniversary lunch, dad was napping, and mom was off to bingo in an hour. Life is good. Or "normal," at least.
I got to the library at seven minutes before closing, where a guy downstairs at the circulation desk wasn't very friendly when I asked him where the Adult Non-Fiction was.
Coming around the corner at the top of the stairs, I saw a friend of mine (well, I know him from the bar), Jason, working at the upstairs desk. He immediately helped me find my book.
I looked around and was amazed at how many people were still in the library, both walking around and using the bank of computers, which was right there by the desk. I said, "Do you really close in five minutes? It doesn't look like it."
Jason's colleague answered saying, "This is what it looks like here at five minutes before closing."
I stopped at The Fresh Market, which is right by the library to see what over-priced items they had today. I bought an over-priced loaf of killer-looking bread—"Asiago Cheese Infused with Sun-dried Tomatoes." I'm quite sure that the word "infused" alone added a dollar to the price of the loaf.
I also bought an "Italian Hoagie," which was a dollar off, and absolutely stuffed with meat. No comment, lest I digress...
I stopped by my office, where after futzing around a little and eating one-half of that huge—and most delicious, I might add—hoagie, I worked for a couple of hours on the minutes of the last University IT Committee meeting. I didn't finish them, but every minute closer to being done, especially this quickly after the meeting, is a great relief.
Paula Poundstone is such a hoot. Two of her tweets today made me laugh out loud:
|US Air just takes it out of your hide. $50 to check bags, $7 for a blanket, 1 seat belt strap is free, $20 for a flight attendant greeting.|
|I'm told I have to go to work 45 min. early tonight in case I get stuck behind a train. What if the audience gets stuck behind a train?|
While driving home from my office, I checked in with my sister about her visit this Thursday and Friday, when she'll be in Raleigh for a conference. We're going to get together and order Lifeline® for my parents.
Before hanging up, she asked me, "Are you on Facebook?"
"Sistah, please!" Pope. Catholic. Right-wing nutjob.
Now that we're "friends," she's about to get inundated by our "friendship"—as my Twitter feed and my blog feed both automagically get updated to Facebook, too.
I got home with just enough time to change and head down to dancing. It was quite dead in the place tonight, and we only had four of the regular dancers there: me, Carl, Bill, and Michael.
Joe arrived between 10 and 10:30, and the lights finally went out (for blackout night) at 11:00, I think. I smelled smoke a couple of times, but the perps were reprimanded before I could get to them.
Joe and I had a midnight snack at The Borough, where we each had the Uberwisconsin. We both added avocado to our sandwich (which otherwise is just sharp cheddar, jack, and provolone cheese and tomatoes), and I took half of mine home. We each ate the hell out of our fries—mine with ranch dressing for a dip and his with barbecue sauce.