As I type this, I am wearing a Hawaiian-type shirt. (I can’t actually say Hawaiian shirt, because Ricky and Tammy actually have those and could call me out on it.) I just got finished on working on a project that is due on Monday, and my part’s pretty much finished. Tonight, I’m giving up my goatee, sideburns, and hair for summer missions, so there’s a pretty good chance that I’m going to have a really awful looking ‘do for the next 24 hours.
Who am I, and where’s the real me?
Something that I should have done a while back: I jarred the contents of the Java Solitaire game so that it loads somewhat quicker than before. Not that anyone plays anymore anyway, but still…
With a nickname like the “cycle of death”, it had to happen eventually.
On my way to class just now, I was in a hurry. There is a four-way intersection on the way that I take that never has automobile traffic, so I just went through it like everyone does.
The cop had to call out twice for me to stop. D’oh!
Anyway, I have a ticket (my first one ever), but I can go to a bike safety school for an hour and a half and have it dismissed. This sounds a lot better than a $96 fine, so that’s the route I’m going to take.
So I now have my own story about the UPD Bike Patrol to go along with both of my Bama bike stories. Fun, fun, fun!
It happened again last night.
Once again, I sat upright in bed, a victim for the third time in the past two weeks of the same problem.
During the course of the night, my tongue will come into contact with my palate, also known as the roof of my mouth. I’m sure that this is a normal occurrence. However, sometimes my tongue is very dry, and will not want to let go of the roof of my mouth. This, of course, cuts off approximately all of my breathing ability if I’m breathing through my mouth while I sleep.
Which, apparently, I often do. So, not being able to breathe, I’ll wake up, take a breath through my nose, and find my tongue again welded to my palate.
This, of course, leads to an obvious course of action. I have to Teflon®-coat my tongue.
I need to get in touch with the DuPont people to see about how to do that…
While eating in a McDonald’s a couple of days ago on my way to my sister and brother-in-law’s, I spotted an old couple walking toward their car.
Both the husband and the wife looked to be at least 70, and the effects of age were evident in both, but especially the wife.
I watched as the husband walked over to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, then waited as the wife made her way in and got settled. Because of her condition, it took her a while to do so, but he was patient, expression never changing. Once she was in, he shut the door and tottered over to his side and got in.
A big smile spread over my face as they pulled out, as I thought to myself, That’s how I want to be in 50 years.
She is in Michigan. I miss her already.
Today makes two wonderful months.
As of the time this actually is posted, I will have done something that I have not done before in seven years of college.
I will have missed a class.
The current weather in Gainesville is a thunderstorm, with winds blowing at 15 miles per hour. This is a pretty accurate statement. It also makes it mighty difficult to ride a bike anywhere, even to the bus stop a little less than a mile away.
I tried to be a good student. I set out on the bike. But there was one problem. My rainsuit’s pant part had ripped last semester, rendering it useless. I hadn’t replaced it, so all I had was a poncho.
When not only your pants, but your socks and underwear become soaked in a matter of seconds, you know that it’s time to give up the ghost.
So, for the first time ever, I will not be attending a class live. However, this class is taped by UF for the purposes of off-campus students, and made available to on-campus students as well via streaming video. So I won’t be missing any material, thankfully. But I will be missing my first class.
I just thought you’d all like to know that the streak is finally over.
Taking a little downtime after a hard day of writing and debugging code, I’ve stopped to think a little bit about what the past month (now a month and two days) has meant to me.
I know that you’re all curious, so I won’t put it off any longer. Here we are! (opens in a new window in Javascript-capable browsers)
I hadn’t written anything about this yet because I didn’t really know what to say. I’d never had to approach the topic before. So I’ll just go straight from the heart, and hope the details are remembered correctly.
Wednesday, after class, I spent the afternoon finding a florist. I needed daisies; I knew that they were her favorite. The rest of the time before choir was spent in anxious anticipation of seeing her and trying to figure out what I was going to say to her. Those daisies in the refrigerator served as a reminder that I couldn’t turn back. Of course, I didn’t want to.
