(no subject)
A lovely development: I took Callisto to the mechanic's this afternoon to see about the alternator, and after a $300 estimate the guy ran a test on the part and said that it was actually fine. I'm not sure why Advance would have told me otherwise, but I'm not complaining, except that the mechanic also told me that the battery they gave me appears to be defective. So I'll have to go there on Friday, maybe, and see about having that remedied.
In Sylva I went to In Your Ear and City Lights, mainly because I accidently drove by the mechanic's shop and though I may as well do a little looking before I turned around. Made a couple of SEEKRIT purchases at In Your Ear that I am not mentioning by name here because my roommates might read it and it is a suprise. At City Lights I pottered around for a while, then finally came away with Piece by Piece and a collection of pop-music essays. Brought Piece by Piece with me to work, and have been reading it like a holy book during bits of downtime.
It was very lovely and warm when I first left the apartment today, but by the time I'd been out an hour it was windy and cold and beautiful. Might have wished for sleeves on my shirt, but I very much enjoyed the wind.
My hair is a mass of shredded wheat. I tried some new stuff last night that was supposed to make it stronger and less prone to split ends. It does not appear that this product has much love for me. After a quick application of the usual stuff, the mess did turn into Shredded Wheat That I Can Sort Of Run My Hands Through, but overall the effect is not terrifically beautiful.
Work seems very quiet tonight between clients, but I know we're booked solid and will be tomorrow and possibly Friday. I recently finished looking over an eleven-page paper on the Costa Rican economy. The evening is looking up.
**Edit, 8:40 p.m.** About that whole "looking up" thing:
15-page sport-management paper entailing a study of job ads for different sport-related positions (yes, sport, not sports) and a spewing-out of required information as pertains to each job (requirements, salary, whether the writer found it interesting or not). Paper written by smelly French guy who said nothing the entire time outside of one-or-two-word responses to my corrections, and those only if my comment was made with a questioning inflection. I think my tongue's swelled up from reading it all, and I'm almost certain that parts of my brain have atrophied. Death, smelly French guy. Deeeath.
In Sylva I went to In Your Ear and City Lights, mainly because I accidently drove by the mechanic's shop and though I may as well do a little looking before I turned around. Made a couple of SEEKRIT purchases at In Your Ear that I am not mentioning by name here because my roommates might read it and it is a suprise. At City Lights I pottered around for a while, then finally came away with Piece by Piece and a collection of pop-music essays. Brought Piece by Piece with me to work, and have been reading it like a holy book during bits of downtime.
It was very lovely and warm when I first left the apartment today, but by the time I'd been out an hour it was windy and cold and beautiful. Might have wished for sleeves on my shirt, but I very much enjoyed the wind.
My hair is a mass of shredded wheat. I tried some new stuff last night that was supposed to make it stronger and less prone to split ends. It does not appear that this product has much love for me. After a quick application of the usual stuff, the mess did turn into Shredded Wheat That I Can Sort Of Run My Hands Through, but overall the effect is not terrifically beautiful.
Work seems very quiet tonight between clients, but I know we're booked solid and will be tomorrow and possibly Friday. I recently finished looking over an eleven-page paper on the Costa Rican economy. The evening is looking up.
**Edit, 8:40 p.m.** About that whole "looking up" thing:
15-page sport-management paper entailing a study of job ads for different sport-related positions (yes, sport, not sports) and a spewing-out of required information as pertains to each job (requirements, salary, whether the writer found it interesting or not). Paper written by smelly French guy who said nothing the entire time outside of one-or-two-word responses to my corrections, and those only if my comment was made with a questioning inflection. I think my tongue's swelled up from reading it all, and I'm almost certain that parts of my brain have atrophied. Death, smelly French guy. Deeeath.