(no subject)
I've been extremely busy at work the last several days. Now that I'm all caught up, I thought, I can do anything I want! I could even...write something on LJ! with a sense of wonder, only then I remembered that I have nothing to write about. So please enjoy this disjointed post about nothing.
Like this picture of my huge-ass new monitor at work! It's longer than the keyboard! I changed all the settings so things are as small as possible and it all still feels so in-my-face.
"Hey, do you know of any settings I might have missed to make everything smaller?" I asked the passing IT guy.
"Let me get this straight: you want me to make your font smaller?"
"Yeah."
"Smaller?"
"It's a lot bigger than I'm used to!"
"That...is not a question I have ever been asked before. It's like someone asking me if I know of a way to make their computer run slower."
But, look, guys: it's really fucking big, okay? If I were about to play a game or watch a movie or something, it'd be awesome, but for paperwork, something that's wider across than my keyboard is long is a bit much.
But I'm pretty much used to it now.
I went to Carrboro over the weekend, visited with my friend Brendan. The trip was off to a shaky start as someone entering the interstate nearly slammed into me almost as soon as I got on the road and then a steady rain began, but otherwise, I had a fantastic visit. Like old times.
Can I just c/p from Facebook? Sorry for the rerun, people I'm friends with on Facebook:
To arrive at the Zero Ducks Given:
- You point out salted caramel ice cream topping at the grocery store. Your friend suggests it would be good with the double chocolate fudge brownie ice cream he is buying. And pretzels.
- Your friend reads an update on the comet the Rosetta probe is shadowing. "They still don't know why it's shaped like a giant rubber duck, though," he says ruefully. You suggest that it is space junk from a distant world where ducks were once held in reverence and had giant statues erected in their honor. Your friend boldly proposes that this particular duck monument was sent into space as a terrorist act. Or, you think, perhaps, because the world has a new ruling class that doesn't support the worship of ducks.
- Together, you design the ice cream concoction. You insist it deserves a title. A title involving ducks. A clever pun.
- There are no clever puns about ducks, so you throw out Zero Ducks Given, instead.
- How many fucks do you give about how unhealthy this thing is? Zero. Only now the fucks are ducks.
- Your friend is like, "No."
- You persist in your belief that Zero Ducks Given is a superior name to Zero Fucks Given, but you do think the nickname should be The Fucks.
- Your friend remains unconvinced.
- You post it to Facebook anyway.
-#ZeroDucksGiven
I will devise those variations with "fuck" in the name. Truly, I will.
With some help.
Do you ever have those moments where you stop to think about how the entirety of your life has been leading up to that exact second? This occurs to me sometimes when something stupid happens, like I'm running late and I walk out the door with too many things in my arms and stuff spills everywhere. Sometimes it's all about timing.
In other instances, it's about small choices, actions, coincidences, the little things that add up. I was thinking that this weekend. It was 3 A.M. and I was lying on my stomach beside my ex. He was leaning back, arm across his forehead. We were having one of those conversations where you flow easily from topic to topic: the everyday, old memories, thoughts on life, catching up. And in the back of my mind, I was thinking about how so many tiny moments and decisions of my life led me to be sitting right there, right then, enjoying good conversation with someone I've known forever. I talked about the course of our relationship in this post not so long ago, so I won't delve into that again. But it's strange to think of all the snap decisions one of us could have made differently over the course of half our lives that could have led to any other outcome than for me to be sitting there with him, swinging my legs and talking about my parents' divorce in the early morning hours, wondering vaguely how much of this the people in the neighboring apartment were being forced to endure.
And I suppose that's true with most people. Maybe it feels different with Brendan because of the way we've wound in and out of one another's lives. There are so many points everything hinges on where that almost didn't happen. But I'm so grateful that it did.
Like this picture of my huge-ass new monitor at work! It's longer than the keyboard! I changed all the settings so things are as small as possible and it all still feels so in-my-face.
"Hey, do you know of any settings I might have missed to make everything smaller?" I asked the passing IT guy.
"Let me get this straight: you want me to make your font smaller?"
"Yeah."
"Smaller?"
"It's a lot bigger than I'm used to!"
"That...is not a question I have ever been asked before. It's like someone asking me if I know of a way to make their computer run slower."
But, look, guys: it's really fucking big, okay? If I were about to play a game or watch a movie or something, it'd be awesome, but for paperwork, something that's wider across than my keyboard is long is a bit much.
But I'm pretty much used to it now.
I went to Carrboro over the weekend, visited with my friend Brendan. The trip was off to a shaky start as someone entering the interstate nearly slammed into me almost as soon as I got on the road and then a steady rain began, but otherwise, I had a fantastic visit. Like old times.
Can I just c/p from Facebook? Sorry for the rerun, people I'm friends with on Facebook:
To arrive at the Zero Ducks Given:
- You point out salted caramel ice cream topping at the grocery store. Your friend suggests it would be good with the double chocolate fudge brownie ice cream he is buying. And pretzels.
- Your friend reads an update on the comet the Rosetta probe is shadowing. "They still don't know why it's shaped like a giant rubber duck, though," he says ruefully. You suggest that it is space junk from a distant world where ducks were once held in reverence and had giant statues erected in their honor. Your friend boldly proposes that this particular duck monument was sent into space as a terrorist act. Or, you think, perhaps, because the world has a new ruling class that doesn't support the worship of ducks.
- Together, you design the ice cream concoction. You insist it deserves a title. A title involving ducks. A clever pun.
- There are no clever puns about ducks, so you throw out Zero Ducks Given, instead.
- How many fucks do you give about how unhealthy this thing is? Zero. Only now the fucks are ducks.
- Your friend is like, "No."
- You persist in your belief that Zero Ducks Given is a superior name to Zero Fucks Given, but you do think the nickname should be The Fucks.
- Your friend remains unconvinced.
- You post it to Facebook anyway.
-#ZeroDucksGiven
I will devise those variations with "fuck" in the name. Truly, I will.
With some help.
Do you ever have those moments where you stop to think about how the entirety of your life has been leading up to that exact second? This occurs to me sometimes when something stupid happens, like I'm running late and I walk out the door with too many things in my arms and stuff spills everywhere. Sometimes it's all about timing.
In other instances, it's about small choices, actions, coincidences, the little things that add up. I was thinking that this weekend. It was 3 A.M. and I was lying on my stomach beside my ex. He was leaning back, arm across his forehead. We were having one of those conversations where you flow easily from topic to topic: the everyday, old memories, thoughts on life, catching up. And in the back of my mind, I was thinking about how so many tiny moments and decisions of my life led me to be sitting right there, right then, enjoying good conversation with someone I've known forever. I talked about the course of our relationship in this post not so long ago, so I won't delve into that again. But it's strange to think of all the snap decisions one of us could have made differently over the course of half our lives that could have led to any other outcome than for me to be sitting there with him, swinging my legs and talking about my parents' divorce in the early morning hours, wondering vaguely how much of this the people in the neighboring apartment were being forced to endure.
And I suppose that's true with most people. Maybe it feels different with Brendan because of the way we've wound in and out of one another's lives. There are so many points everything hinges on where that almost didn't happen. But I'm so grateful that it did.