"...where n is the number of observations in a sample."
Overcast, rainy, and chilly today. Not quite winter chilly, thank you Day 1 of March, but I'm missing that day of high 70sF. Our high was 45F.
Ugh. You can spoon up the humidity like slimy cold yogurt.
I was up at 4:30, so I definitely got more sleep than yesterday morning. I got more done on the story notes for Bright Dead Star. A BIG push, and I'll finish those in the morning, before we spend the rest of the day at my mom's in Leeds, doing laundry that ought have been done many months ago. And I worked on the Bashi some more. It's weird to be spending time on Eocene fishes when all my paleo' time needs to be going towards mosasaurs. But there's something oddly zen about picking out microscopic fish and shark and ray teeth (and fish ear bones). It's addictive, in a way, and it helps me say thank you for all Jun has done for me the last few years.
I entered into something like a rapturous joy last night, that I was simply able to eat a tuna sandwich. I kid you not. And I am now always, always hungry. I cannot seem to get full, after years of being unable to eat well.
Last night, we began watching Six Feet Under again. We never saw the conclusion, so we just started over at the beginning.
Yo, postmodernism, in all your myriad toxic guises, go forth and fuck yourself. Sorry. I just had to say that, for all the damage it has done and will do.
Enough for now. But do please visit the Dreaming Squid Sundries shop. BUY BOOKS, I WILL SIGN AND PERSONALIZE THEM, and maybe K and I won't wind up homeless (not "unhomed") living in a cardboard box at the corner of No and Where. Thanks.
And So It Goes,
Aunt Beast
8:39 a.m.
Ugh. You can spoon up the humidity like slimy cold yogurt.
I was up at 4:30, so I definitely got more sleep than yesterday morning. I got more done on the story notes for Bright Dead Star. A BIG push, and I'll finish those in the morning, before we spend the rest of the day at my mom's in Leeds, doing laundry that ought have been done many months ago. And I worked on the Bashi some more. It's weird to be spending time on Eocene fishes when all my paleo' time needs to be going towards mosasaurs. But there's something oddly zen about picking out microscopic fish and shark and ray teeth (and fish ear bones). It's addictive, in a way, and it helps me say thank you for all Jun has done for me the last few years.
I entered into something like a rapturous joy last night, that I was simply able to eat a tuna sandwich. I kid you not. And I am now always, always hungry. I cannot seem to get full, after years of being unable to eat well.
Last night, we began watching Six Feet Under again. We never saw the conclusion, so we just started over at the beginning.
Yo, postmodernism, in all your myriad toxic guises, go forth and fuck yourself. Sorry. I just had to say that, for all the damage it has done and will do.
Enough for now. But do please visit the Dreaming Squid Sundries shop. BUY BOOKS, I WILL SIGN AND PERSONALIZE THEM, and maybe K and I won't wind up homeless (not "unhomed") living in a cardboard box at the corner of No and Where. Thanks.
And So It Goes,
Aunt Beast
8:39 a.m.