A couple of tidbits from the bus rides today:
Two adults were talking to each other in the back, and one asked the other, “So are you happy with your president?” to which a little child traveling with them interjected before the other could answer, “He’s my president, too!”
On Hillsborough Street, across the front lawn of a brick apartment building, a man walked carrying a full toilet with only his left hand. It couldn’t possibly have been a porcelain one, as he held the entire thing in one hand, like he was carrying a grocery bag.
The bus driver, who was a plus-, plus-sized man drove with no seatbelt, presumably because it was uncomfortable to wear. I considered filing a complaint about him, but couldn’t muster the time and energy to do it once I got to the office.
I treated a colleague to a coffee and fritter this morning at Reverie, to thank him for some Photoshop work he did for me earlier in the week.
We waited maybe five minutes, or more, while three people ahead of us ordered. As I’ve complained about before, it’s just unbelievable how incredibly complicated coffee orders have become any more—with the the grinding, the squirting, the milking, the steaming, and whatever all else it takes to put the gourmet in gourmet coffee.
“I’ll have a small, plain, cup of regular coffee, please,” I said when it was finally our turn. Poured and served. Next.
In the category of the declining art of parenting, someone tweeted (on Twitter) about this story in which a woman is quoted as saying about a three-year old: “It looked like he’d been smoking for years.” Story: Smoking toddler’s mother guilty
I got an e-mail from a new friend, whom I met at our last (and first) salon, with this affirmation in it.
| John,
Would you be willing to take about 15 to 20 minutes to talk with an NCSU English major about the joys and sorrows of being a technical writer / editor? As an academic adviser in the English department, one of my tasks is to help students (sophomores) explore career directions. Most English majors don’t have a clue that there is a field called technical communication. Those who have heard of it have a preconception that it’s dry, dull, and boring. I’m hoping to find a few technical communicators who are willing to share their experiences as writers or editors with students. I’m looking specifically for people who began as writers or editors before getting an MS. Both Susan Katz and Sarah recommended you as a good person to talk with a student or two. Would you be willing? Best, |
Before leaving the office today on the 5:30 bus, I fired off a bunch of e-mails to various people with regards to media requests for an open source event coming up in February, and a requirement toupgrade everyone’s antivirus software between now and June.
And this from a Twitter tweet today as well: Have a gift card from one of these stores? They’re going, or rumored to be going, out of business soon, so you might want to go ahead and use them up!
A favorite reference to the headlines in another tweet today: Looks like O is keeping his Crackberry.
I went to the gym late today, not realizing that it closes at 9:00PM on Fridays.
Thankfully, I started with my lower back and knee stretching and strengthening exercises, so finished all of those. Five minutes into my intended 30-minute cardio workout, one of the workers started around raising the remote in his hand to every one of the about 25 TVs in there turning them off.
I had to stop after only ten minutes on the elliptical machine. Still, better than no minutes at all.
Before I’d left for Flex, I’d asked Joe the name of this guy that I saw out on Wednesday, and he’d said, “Rob.” To which I’d replied, “Oh my god; I know so many Robs!”
I got to Flex at about 10:30, where it was Showtunes Night, and kind of dead. None of the crowd of folks I know were there, and Joe had decided not to go out.
Since pool is free on Fridays—one of the reasons I go—I played one game by myself. On about my fifth shot, this guy came up to me, and asked, “Is it free tonight?”
“It is,” I said. “Would you like to play?”
“Sure,” he said, and I stuck out my hand, “Hi, I’m John.”
“I’m Rob,” he replied.
I quit after that game, because his boyfriend had arrived, and I thought they might want to play a game together.
I spent the next thirty minutes or so talking to (cleaning business) Rick, and most of that time was spent looking at his new smartphone, which wasn’t an iPhone but some other brand. The one thing I liked about it was that it doesn’t require AT&T for its service. Rick had Verizon service on it.
At just after midnight, Rick went over to CCs, and I went home.