Wednesday, August 27

My Day, In Bullets

  • Biked to work. Passed by cute messenger. (Stared at ass.) Passed by hipster boy. (Stared at ass.) Passed by grandpa, with overly jacked legs. (Stared at ass, but felt really uncomfortable about it.)
  • Meeting at work. Spoke. Turned bright red. Spoke more.
  • Pounded out emails at work. Pounded. Violent typing gets the job done.
  • Continued ongoing fight, mostly via email, but also via passive aggressive gchats.
  • Supported Hillary's speeh, pantsuit. What! I like orange!
  • Spend SEVENTY-FIVE CENTS (or, THREE laundry quarters) on air for my completely flat bike tires. Screamed "What! For real! Seventy-five cents!" out loud several time in gas station. No one noticed.
  • Drinks at bar.
  • Dinner: cheese, mojitos, good things.
  • Biked home. Yelled at one pedestrian, two cabs, one truck.
  • Flipped between Bravo & DNC.

Monday, August 18

Things I Have Learned From Proofreading

I have learned literally countless things from proofreading. (I say "countless" and "literally" because in my tipsiness, I tried to count them, and I was incapable. Could be the wine, or could be the sheer number of things I have discovered by proofreading various Slavic dissertations and sci-fi wonders). Here is my fun fact of the day, which perhaps you were unaware of:

There is indeed a kind of coffee called "long black." This is not a typo for "tall black coffee" as a certain proofreader may have imagined. A long black is much like an americano; it's a couple of shots of espresso poured over hot water.

Tuesday, August 12

Oh! I Finally Understand

These kinds of error messages and inaccessibility are why Gmail is still in beta after FOUR years.

BTW, you should have seen my confusion after I took this screenshot* and wanted to email it to myself at home.

*ugh, I am sorry that is so blurry.

Wednesday, August 6

Absolutely & Entirely Too Far

After a day at work, I saw this gladiator-wearing man on the 14th St. train station. I took a picture for all of you, because mocking this person in my head was just not satisfying enough. Please join me in snickers.

note: UGH preview blows.

Monday, August 4

My Fake Fortune

Sunday night, I got Chinese food and lay on Jason's couch watching bad TV. It doesn't sound like much, necessarily, but it's everything I wanted in a Sunday night. When you dream little, you can get every little thing you dream of.

In an intense food-and-tv-coma, it seemed like the only cure could be fortune cookies. That's actually not true: I just lost my sense of any kind of segue to my fortune, which was: "You need to forgive that person today. Just believe me." This is no kind of fortune; you can tell because you can't play the in bed game with it. (In contrast, J's fortune, "the best times of your life are yet to come" works beautifully with an "in bed" tacked on the end.) It's the "just believe me" that really makes this particularly intimidating and weirdly like a mom-guilt-trip.

The cap to all this, of course, is that on Saturday there actually was fighting. But on Sunday, no fighting at all & no need for forgiveness.