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Last year: I'd be disgusted by the fact that I'm eating Fritos for breakfast if I didn't know that half the people here were going to be eating cold pizza. |
Though to be fair, Karen might have taken it seriously even if I hadn't written about it. She invented the holiday with me, after all.
At any rate, I got a package from Karen in the mail yesterday in celebration of the Feast of Liz. I knew it was coming - she'd been sending me e-mail clues for a few days. And, as specified, it was full of Monty Python quotes and silly little presents marked with clues that she obviously had a great deal of fun constructing.
I'd done something similar, though much less elaborate, for her birthday last year. As I told Matt, I think she just wanted to jump on the chance to turn it around.
At any rate, it was loads of fun unpacking everything, and laughing over the presents (they included a couple of cans of Spam, fruitbats and breakfast cereals, and other silly things). It really made my afternoon, after what had been a long, tense, and unproductive day. Thanks, Karen!
Last night as we were going to sleep, Matt and I reviewed the rest of the week.
"Tomorrow you'll be meeting with Kris to exercise, right?" he asked.
"As far as I know."
"And Wednesday we're meeting Chuck for dinner at Don Pablo's, Thursday you're exercising with Kris again... Friday is your mom's birthday... Saturday we might be playing AD&D, and Sunday is the 7th Sea game." He was starting to sound a little panicked about the lack of rest-time.
"And Monday," I broke in, "is a holiday!"
"Monday's a holiday," Matt repeated, sounding vastly relieved.
If the year ago quote at the top of the page doesn't ring any bells, Matt and I have been living in our house for exactly one year now.
Okay, we actually took possession on the 27th, and we didn't sign the closing papers until later, but the 29th was the first morning we woke up in our own bed, in our own house.
There've been some ups and downs, but on the whole, I'm satisfied with our house. I might be even happier if I could get grass to grow in the front yard (the back yard, which no one ever sees, has lovely grass) -- but we're taking care of that this weekend, with a truckload of compost and another bag of grass seed.
Word of the Day: preeminent - having paramount rank, dignity, or importance; outstanding
(Another fictional exercise, continuing the idea I had two months ago.)
They each had been the preeminent scientists in their fields: Richardsen in neurobiology; Pietrova in nanotechnology; Huang in energy management; and Duganda in strategic predictions. Later scientists would improve upon their designs and smooth out the wrinkles in the transference process, but it was these four who conceived of the idea and figured out how to make it work. It was these four who had the sheer hope necessary to push forward despite the obvious obstacles.
Their brains were sealed in specially-prepared jars of amniotic fluid (critics, pundits, and jokesters alike did not miss an opportunity to draw this link to Frankenstein's monster) and the jars connected with a weak electrical impulse that allowed them to communicate. Hundreds of thousands of Pietrova's microscopic 'bots swam in those jars, building, repairing, and copying. Once a week, an assistant of the project measured organic nutrients and materials the 'bots would require into a feeder tube. The jars and the machinery for maintaining them were shut into Duganda's rooftop dovecote - a symbol of the peace they desperately hoped to bring.
Later developments were less dependant on others for maintenance, more mobil, until finally entire organizations arose to insist on halting development, terrified at the punishment that would be visited upon them for daring to re-create Man.
They were too slow - the punishment had already been set in motion. Three hundred years after the creation of the first dovecote, there was barely a human alive who knew what the dovecotes had once been. Richardsen, Pietrova, and Huang's fields were entirely unheard of, and Duganda's had slipped back into its most primitive roots.
Richardsen, Pietrova, Huang, and Duganda, however, continued to hope.
- Magic's Pride by Mercedes Lackey
Current Projects:
- nothing
Diet Progress: 7.5 lbs lost
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