1. image: Download

    I know it probably has something to do with the temperature change when other people open the door to the lab causing this fellow to revert to maybe some manner of active cooling, [and I know it probably has something to do with my relative tameness that I find so much amusement in the occasional and tiny picaresque adventure,] but this is probably my favorite on-screen alert because it furthers the viewpoint that the robots and I are in cahoots and they will, generally, continue to look out for me.

    I know it probably has something to do with the temperature change when other people open the door to the lab causing this fellow to revert to maybe some manner of active cooling, [and I know it probably has something to do with my relative tameness that I find so much amusement in the occasional and tiny picaresque adventure,] but this is probably my favorite on-screen alert because it furthers the viewpoint that the robots and I are in cahoots and they will, generally, continue to look out for me.

     
  2. image: Download

    One would think I could control my propensity for capers in awkward “security” environments, but no, apparently not.  The loosest cannon in town has left the state.  With badges.  
Maybe I’ll take on a deputy or 20 now.  Because I can.

    One would think I could control my propensity for capers in awkward “security” environments, but no, apparently not.  The loosest cannon in town has left the state.  With badges. 

    Maybe I’ll take on a deputy or 20 now.  Because I can.

     
  3. The international visitors have left and despite clearly coveting it (vis à vis, capturing image information), I kept my hands to myself and did not steal a polite Japanese business type’s executive 4 color pen. Wood paneling! He totally would have noticed. I’m not saying I thought about it every day, but it would have surely caused an incident.

    So, to reward myself for keeping it professional for 2 weeks and not acting like a sociopath, I finally tore into the non-executive 4-color pen PLUS pencil that I purchased in Tokyo, 16 months ago. Look how beefy it is relative to a regular 4 color pen. It’s like a child-friendly crayon.

    Croc Madam (reptilian cathouse manager, not secret sandwich) is now stylin’.

     
  4. Most Recent Piece of Unsent Mail (ca. 20091212)
Ugh, look at the clarity of that text. And the margins! And the prominent but anachronistic appearance of a nanoscale Razzle Dazzle on the envelope. And the bacteria that look like sprinkles (or …jimmies, depending on the depravity of your youth, vis-à-vis iced cream toppings). I should always write with markers, maybe that’s the lesson.
At the time this was written (estimated based on the issue of the publication that the letter refers to), the intended recipient would occasionally come to me for advice about the navigation of ethical morasses (I was, mor or less, something like an expert in asses,) though it was before we had discussed experimental approaches to gentle child-rearing. He turned out to be, surprisingly, in favor.
“You should put 4 babies in me now.”  (That was always implicit, but never said. Clearly, I dropped the ball.)

    Most Recent Piece of Unsent Mail (ca. 20091212)

    Ugh, look at the clarity of that text. And the margins! And the prominent but anachronistic appearance of a nanoscale Razzle Dazzle on the envelope. And the bacteria that look like sprinkles (or …jimmies, depending on the depravity of your youth, vis-à-vis iced cream toppings). I should always write with markers, maybe that’s the lesson.

    At the time this was written (estimated based on the issue of the publication that the letter refers to), the intended recipient would occasionally come to me for advice about the navigation of ethical morasses (I was, mor or less, something like an expert in asses,) though it was before we had discussed experimental approaches to gentle child-rearing. He turned out to be, surprisingly, in favor.

    “You should put 4 babies in me now.”
    (That was always implicit, but never said. Clearly, I dropped the ball.)

     
  5. You know, your great grandpa Ibrahiem, he was a bandit… He was illiterate, but had a lot of money, so he hired someone to read him the paper every day.
    — I imagine some people have to do a lot more soul searching to come up with reasons why they are what they are.  You get about 5 familial anecdotes in here and any further digging is just looking for the mislaid keys long after you’ve found them.
     
  6. image: Download

    One’d think curators would prefer patrons keeping both feet away from the art.

    One’d think curators would prefer patrons keeping both feet away from the art.

     
  7. I think our primary difference is that when I was growing up I always tried to fit in. No, no, I mean your weirdness is refreshing. Ooh, the other day I saw a leopard print snuggie. Would you want it as a xmas present? Or, I could get you a book about fitting in
    — 

    OM to ME, 10/2010, Part of what felt like weirdly normal “girl talk”, captured, in the dark, in a shared room at Asilomar, CA.

    LIE I MAY HAVE RECENTLY TOLD:
    "I fit in everywhere." 

    INTENDED NUANCE:
    "I fit in (equally poorly) everywhere. 
    (So relatively, it’s all the same.)”

    CLOSER TO THE TRUTH:
    "I feel like a Giant Panda most of the time."

    Honesty is sustainable, but like most sustainable things, getting to the point where it just organically happens takes either a lot of hard work to dump bad habits and comfortable tendencies, OR having not tripped down the rabbit hole of bad habits to begin with.  Lies are like Chicken McNuggets: I know they shouldn’t be there, but every so often I find myself with a mouth full of them.  They’re easy.  Sometimes tasty.  But despite my crazy endurance (lest we forget: “the impromptu marathon: an irrational response to an impending birthday—November 2010”) surely these things in my mouth are not healthy in the long term.

    (OM is my best friend here and, on paper, we spend 40 lucky hours a week within a very small space.  She ended up giving me a ride to/from the airport for xmas, which saved me crazy parking fees.)

     
  8. Big Baby Steps

    1. (At the threshold of OM's house)
    2. OM: You back off to lab?
    3. ME: Ye--ohshit, I didn't tell you: I woke up this morning and my GPSguy forgot everything. It doesn't even know where I live.
    4. OM: You got here without a navigator?
    5. ME: Robot Free since 10:03! Operating on muscle-memory and...regular kind.
    6. OM: You braved Knoxville! That's a big step for you!
    7. ME: I know, right? *Omits mention of misty-eyed moment in the car*
     
  9. image: Download

    Bibliotecadventures: #34: The Oak Ridge Public Library
(I’m currently AFK, but I do like consistency).  I drop in occasionally and check out the discard piles.  I always feel bad for discarded books, which is probably why I have so many weird secondhand items.  More than the discards, though, I do appreciate the fact that this library locked in an observable trend.  
Librarians seem to love the “Mirado Black Warrior”.  Perhaps it is the fact that they put down a very light-weight line.  Or perhaps it is the smoothness of the barrel.  Or perhaps it is just the bitchin’ name.  In any case,  they are classy enough pencils about which one of my most recently found pieces of delightful bizarreness was found.

Regarding a bad batch of Mirado Black Warriors:  
"I’d hate to think of  these pencils being purchased as back to school supplies, & forever  turning a child away from pencil use."

The fact that I have never purchased one of these but have almost a dozen in my desk says something maybe not so good about me. 

    Bibliotecadventures: #34: The Oak Ridge Public Library

    (I’m currently AFK, but I do like consistency).  I drop in occasionally and check out the discard piles.  I always feel bad for discarded books, which is probably why I have so many weird secondhand items.  More than the discards, though, I do appreciate the fact that this library locked in an observable trend.  

    Librarians seem to love the “Mirado Black Warrior”.  Perhaps it is the fact that they put down a very light-weight line.  Or perhaps it is the smoothness of the barrel.  Or perhaps it is just the bitchin’ name.  In any case,  they are classy enough pencils about which one of my most recently found pieces of delightful bizarreness was found.

    Regarding a bad batch of Mirado Black Warriors: 

    "I’d hate to think of these pencils being purchased as back to school supplies, & forever turning a child away from pencil use."

    The fact that I have never purchased one of these but have almost a dozen in my desk says something maybe not so good about me. 

     
  10. image: Download

    “I don’t approve of anyone getting engaged to someone that isn’t one of us.”

The perfect response to a profanity laced relaying of news that a dude (that someone had a very pleasant regular flirtation with) had, in a bout of ludicrity, gotten engaged to his H.S. girlfriend*.  Which, ugh, The South: you’re ridiculous. Still going out with the gang tonight because my glow in the dark compass ring is not a  glow in the dark moral-compass ring.  (Thank God, because imagine how  lost one could get with one of those.)  There will be other people there; how else can one practice being social-ish?   We don’t always do the right thing, but we usually avoid doing the wrong thing.  It’s very tiring.  
*They’re well out of H.S. now; this is presently not the most shady case study in the Dictator for Life bid for Cougaristan.

Pictured: The GitDCR, which was not especially useful midnight last Monday as I was trying to find my car in Center City Philly, as it was getting locked into a garage—which almost made me cry, but totally didn’t.  I’m a calm/cool/collected problem solver!  Also, very lucky.  Also, vaguely age appropriate for Joshua Baskin, which would ruin the DfL of Cougaristan plan, but he had some nice friends, electronic comic books, and knew how to melt an ice wizard…eventually.  These are important things. 

    I don’t approve of anyone getting engaged to someone that isn’t one of us.

    The perfect response to a profanity laced relaying of news that a dude (that someone had a very pleasant regular flirtation with) had, in a bout of ludicrity, gotten engaged to his H.S. girlfriend*.  Which, ugh, The South: you’re ridiculous.

    Still going out with the gang tonight because my glow in the dark compass ring is not a glow in the dark moral-compass ring.  (Thank God, because imagine how lost one could get with one of those.)  There will be other people there; how else can one practice being social-ish?   We don’t always do the right thing, but we usually avoid doing the wrong thing.  It’s very tiring.  

    *They’re well out of H.S. now; this is presently not the most shady case study in the Dictator for Life bid for Cougaristan.

    Pictured: The GitDCR, which was not especially useful midnight last Monday as I was trying to find my car in Center City Philly, as it was getting locked into a garage—which almost made me cry, but totally didn’t.  I’m a calm/cool/collected problem solver!  Also, very lucky.  Also, vaguely age appropriate for Joshua Baskin, which would ruin the DfL of Cougaristan plan, but he had some nice friends, electronic comic books, and knew how to melt an ice wizard…eventually.  These are important things.