Pigs can fly when...
. . . you receive a political joke email from your Dad that you actually agree with. Possibilities include:
1. "It was a mistake! An accident! That didn't really come from me! Someone else was using my computer!"
2. "What's satire?" (Though my Dad is a really sharp cookie, so that's not possible.)
3. "I don't buy this stuff, but I'm starting to catch on that maybe you're not a Republican, so tell me if this is funny to you."
4. "Hm, maybe the conservatives have gone too far. . . ." (Could it be?)
Anyway, I found it very amusing.*
* * *
I received the mouse for my new iBook yesterday. No iBook. Just mouse. I can understand the "ship components as they become available" approach for books and CDs and things (so you have a little something to play with each day instead of waiting until the end to get all your loot at once — they should call it Hannukah Shipping vs. Christmas Shipping), but for computer components it gets a little silly.
As I joked with some friends (I need to save that link to use later, because it was a lot of work), I guess I can practice Mac-style uniclicking for a couple of days until the iBook shows up. Click . . . click . . . click . . . okay, this is boring. Lest I start playing out Barry Manilow hi-hat rhythms on the mouse, it's definitely time to move to a better way of fidgeting.
* * *
I was so looking forward to beer and fun last night that I didn't make any other plans for this weekend. I'm suddenly met by this feeling somewhat akin to University graduation. It just sort of sneaks up on you one day, and you may not make that big a deal out of it (I didn't anyway, at least not in comparison to High School graduation), but then you're suddenly standing around in a cap and gown, thinking, "Uh, wait, I just remembered, my life is supposed to start now. . . . Okay . . . . Magical post-college job, where are you? No, that takes a few days I think. Uh. Yeah. Okay. Hm. What to do. Hey guys, anybody wanna go get some pancakes?"
Here I am with a whole wonderful unbooked weekend at my disposal, and no ideas.
Perhaps I should start with the basics.
Shower is good. (My cat is slacking off on his duty of herding me in there on Saturday mornings, anyway.)
*In case you were wondering, the email was the one about the guy ordering pizza, and the pizza order receiver (what do you call that guy?) has all this guy's complete financial and medical history at his disposal, and gets all intrusive about what stuff the guy should and shouldn't be eating.
1. "It was a mistake! An accident! That didn't really come from me! Someone else was using my computer!"
2. "What's satire?" (Though my Dad is a really sharp cookie, so that's not possible.)
3. "I don't buy this stuff, but I'm starting to catch on that maybe you're not a Republican, so tell me if this is funny to you."
4. "Hm, maybe the conservatives have gone too far. . . ." (Could it be?)
Anyway, I found it very amusing.*
* * *
I received the mouse for my new iBook yesterday. No iBook. Just mouse. I can understand the "ship components as they become available" approach for books and CDs and things (so you have a little something to play with each day instead of waiting until the end to get all your loot at once — they should call it Hannukah Shipping vs. Christmas Shipping), but for computer components it gets a little silly.
As I joked with some friends (I need to save that link to use later, because it was a lot of work), I guess I can practice Mac-style uniclicking for a couple of days until the iBook shows up. Click . . . click . . . click . . . okay, this is boring. Lest I start playing out Barry Manilow hi-hat rhythms on the mouse, it's definitely time to move to a better way of fidgeting.
* * *
I was so looking forward to beer and fun last night that I didn't make any other plans for this weekend. I'm suddenly met by this feeling somewhat akin to University graduation. It just sort of sneaks up on you one day, and you may not make that big a deal out of it (I didn't anyway, at least not in comparison to High School graduation), but then you're suddenly standing around in a cap and gown, thinking, "Uh, wait, I just remembered, my life is supposed to start now. . . . Okay . . . . Magical post-college job, where are you? No, that takes a few days I think. Uh. Yeah. Okay. Hm. What to do. Hey guys, anybody wanna go get some pancakes?"
Here I am with a whole wonderful unbooked weekend at my disposal, and no ideas.
Perhaps I should start with the basics.
Shower is good. (My cat is slacking off on his duty of herding me in there on Saturday mornings, anyway.)
*In case you were wondering, the email was the one about the guy ordering pizza, and the pizza order receiver (what do you call that guy?) has all this guy's complete financial and medical history at his disposal, and gets all intrusive about what stuff the guy should and shouldn't be eating.