Procrastinative blogging
I should be working on my paper. I came home early from Waco to do so. I will—in half an hour.
Sunday was uneventful. I seem to remember trying to get stuff done—finishing up reading some papers, mainly.
Monday I showed up to work. The boss seemed pleased with my progress on the paper. It was good to have him seem unconcerned, for once. I almost missed the bus, because MD Anderson moved the bus stop. Thankfully, one of the other bus riders was more astute than I. I picked up lettuce wraps from Pei Wei for dinner. They rocked.
Tuesday, we had lab meeting, which was pretty good. The boss talked about a conference he had been to, and future directions for the lab, and so forth. It was thought provoking and enjoyable; it gave me the kind of feeling I hope to get more often once I start doing some real science and get done jumping through hoops. Afterwards, I had ethics class, which continued to be completely irrelevant. This time, it was on the use of lab animals. The only time I ever see them is if I see a stray fruit fly, or someone wheeling caged mice through the halls. This is not a subject that affects my work in any significant way.
I tried to go by and see webmisstress (I think that title sounds wonderfully dirty—it evokes some girl clad in leather and thigh-highs with a riding crop writing HTML; but maybe that's just me) Amy, but she wasn't around, so I continued on my way home. I went by Graham's that evening to borrow his copy of Matlab to generate some preliminary data for the paper. I thought the point to this was that it was a hypothetical project, but I digress. Afterwards, I took a short side trip to Soundwaves to pick up the new U2 album, and went ahead and took the opportunity to finally pay for something I'd been listening to for a while, the Divine Comedy's new album.
I've mentioned the Divine Comedy album before. It's very orchestral, majestic, epic, clever. The new U2 is more U2. Either you enjoy Bono's soulful, sincere crooning and the Edge's trademark use of delay peddle and are glad to hear some new songs, or you've had your feel of it, or are tried of everying. I'm in the first category. This seems to be about on the level of All That You Can't Leave Behind—enjoyable, but maybe disposable. I'll write up reviews on these later.
Wednesday afternoon, I headed for Waco. Here's what I listened to:
The Beatles—Let It Be... Naked
U2—How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb
William Shatner—Has Been
The Modest Mix
I had dinner with the family at Bangkok. My panang curry was, of course, excellent, as was the hot tea, and being there brought back both good and bittersweet memories. It was wonderful to see my sister, whom I hadn't seen since Labor Day. She and I tried to go to Cricket's, which was, I think, the most crowded I'd ever seen it, before we gave up and I went to Scruffy Murphy's to get my beer.
Thanksgiving was typically great. The menu:
Glazed turkey breast
Dressing
Green bean casserole
Sweet potato casserole
Broccoli rice casserole
Fruit Salad
Rolls
Sweet potato pecan pie with bourbon sauce
Apple pie
We paid a visit to family friends the Hoffmans, and then I went out with Rebecca and her crew. There was a hot tub, which I enjoyed enough to wonder if I could get one in my bedroom, and an epic beer run, trying desperately to find a convenience store that was open, before the midnight deadline.
Rebecca went to Austin Friday for the UT/A&M game, and after lunch (Fazoli's, something I greatly miss here) and some packing time, I got on the road to come back here. Here's the playlist for the return trip:
Death Cab For Cutie—Studio X Sessions
U2—How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb
Ben Folds—Rockin' The Suburbs
Built To Spill—There's Nothing Wrong With Love
I came back, unpacked, had a little dinner, made a grocery store run chiefly for milk, which, of course, requisite for the proper enjoyment of pie, and eventually went up to Woodrow's to hang out with Will for a bit. They had a pumpkin-flavored beer on specail, which was interesting—tasted like pumpkin pie, just without the sweet finish. It was worth being there just to see a girl try to get in the bar using an ID which was obviously not hers. Will asked her her address, then her birthdate, both of which she got wrong. She came back fifteen minutes later and tried to get in again, and Will of course recognized her. She mainly seemed to want to demonstrate that she now had memorized all of the information on the license, including name, address, and birth date. Then, five minutes later, she hopped the fence on the deck. Why bother going through the door man?
Sunday was uneventful. I seem to remember trying to get stuff done—finishing up reading some papers, mainly.
Monday I showed up to work. The boss seemed pleased with my progress on the paper. It was good to have him seem unconcerned, for once. I almost missed the bus, because MD Anderson moved the bus stop. Thankfully, one of the other bus riders was more astute than I. I picked up lettuce wraps from Pei Wei for dinner. They rocked.
Tuesday, we had lab meeting, which was pretty good. The boss talked about a conference he had been to, and future directions for the lab, and so forth. It was thought provoking and enjoyable; it gave me the kind of feeling I hope to get more often once I start doing some real science and get done jumping through hoops. Afterwards, I had ethics class, which continued to be completely irrelevant. This time, it was on the use of lab animals. The only time I ever see them is if I see a stray fruit fly, or someone wheeling caged mice through the halls. This is not a subject that affects my work in any significant way.
I tried to go by and see webmisstress (I think that title sounds wonderfully dirty—it evokes some girl clad in leather and thigh-highs with a riding crop writing HTML; but maybe that's just me) Amy, but she wasn't around, so I continued on my way home. I went by Graham's that evening to borrow his copy of Matlab to generate some preliminary data for the paper. I thought the point to this was that it was a hypothetical project, but I digress. Afterwards, I took a short side trip to Soundwaves to pick up the new U2 album, and went ahead and took the opportunity to finally pay for something I'd been listening to for a while, the Divine Comedy's new album.
I've mentioned the Divine Comedy album before. It's very orchestral, majestic, epic, clever. The new U2 is more U2. Either you enjoy Bono's soulful, sincere crooning and the Edge's trademark use of delay peddle and are glad to hear some new songs, or you've had your feel of it, or are tried of everying. I'm in the first category. This seems to be about on the level of All That You Can't Leave Behind—enjoyable, but maybe disposable. I'll write up reviews on these later.
Wednesday afternoon, I headed for Waco. Here's what I listened to:
The Beatles—Let It Be... Naked
U2—How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb
William Shatner—Has Been
The Modest Mix
I had dinner with the family at Bangkok. My panang curry was, of course, excellent, as was the hot tea, and being there brought back both good and bittersweet memories. It was wonderful to see my sister, whom I hadn't seen since Labor Day. She and I tried to go to Cricket's, which was, I think, the most crowded I'd ever seen it, before we gave up and I went to Scruffy Murphy's to get my beer.
Thanksgiving was typically great. The menu:
Glazed turkey breast
Dressing
Green bean casserole
Sweet potato casserole
Broccoli rice casserole
Fruit Salad
Rolls
Sweet potato pecan pie with bourbon sauce
Apple pie
We paid a visit to family friends the Hoffmans, and then I went out with Rebecca and her crew. There was a hot tub, which I enjoyed enough to wonder if I could get one in my bedroom, and an epic beer run, trying desperately to find a convenience store that was open, before the midnight deadline.
Rebecca went to Austin Friday for the UT/A&M game, and after lunch (Fazoli's, something I greatly miss here) and some packing time, I got on the road to come back here. Here's the playlist for the return trip:
Death Cab For Cutie—Studio X Sessions
U2—How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb
Ben Folds—Rockin' The Suburbs
Built To Spill—There's Nothing Wrong With Love
I came back, unpacked, had a little dinner, made a grocery store run chiefly for milk, which, of course, requisite for the proper enjoyment of pie, and eventually went up to Woodrow's to hang out with Will for a bit. They had a pumpkin-flavored beer on specail, which was interesting—tasted like pumpkin pie, just without the sweet finish. It was worth being there just to see a girl try to get in the bar using an ID which was obviously not hers. Will asked her her address, then her birthdate, both of which she got wrong. She came back fifteen minutes later and tried to get in again, and Will of course recognized her. She mainly seemed to want to demonstrate that she now had memorized all of the information on the license, including name, address, and birth date. Then, five minutes later, she hopped the fence on the deck. Why bother going through the door man?
posted by L. Maxwell Ward at 3:24 PM
