Sunday, September 17, 2006

So I should be doing real work. You know, the stuff they pay me to do. So naturally, I feel like blogging and working on the Great American Novel.

I realized this morning that I totally forgot to pay my electric bill, which is due tomorrow or they will turn off my electricity (we have no grace period). My car won't go out of second gear (which is a "feature" on Chrysler cars made after 1995 when the computer senses a sensor error). The road to the electric bill paying place is a two lane, major road with a speed limit of 45, where everyone drives at least 55. My car hits 27 if it is lucky. Not good.

I'm watching a NOVA special about Katrina. It is weird to see people I work with on there, including the president of our company.

I think I shall publish the Great American Novel under a pseudonym. I think my pseudonym shall be Linda LaRue. Linda, because when I was a little kid, I thought that was the most glamorous name ever (yeah, I wasn't very worldly back then) and LaRue to indulge my deep, dark, secret desire to be a stripper.


Ok, maybe not.

And just a note on the whole Katrina thing. The hurricane guy at the major state university here gets way too much credit for the exercises related to Hurricane planning in New Orleans. It's weird to know the truth of the matter. Don't trust the media, ever, is a lesson tht I have learned.

One of my former students was just named a National Merit Semi-Finalist. I'm proud of her, but I also know how much her parents pushed her, and how much pressure they put on her. That makes me sad.

Seeing the satellite photos of Katrina is amazing. I've never seen a storm so symmetrical. One of the other things I've learned is that when you are talking about tropical weather, symmetry is a bad thing. And listening to the water rush in to the city is amazing.

Oh well. I guess I need to start doing real work at some point. Enjoy my stream of consciousness here.

But before I go, I bought matching dishes this weekend, before my car decided to throw a tantrum. I feel like a grown up now (even if I did hesitate because I could hear my mother's voice telling me that they were too dark - they are black an green, and nicer than they sound.).

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