Why Did The Goose Cross The Road?
Have I mentioned that I have taken to wearing the large blue alpaca scarf I got in Ecuador around like a shawl? I am channeling my Eastern European grandmothers. The other day it was so cold I wore it like a babushka and clipped it with a hair clip under my chin. Classy.
Today I did an application for a microscopy course, in lieu of killing more hapless little cells. Also had a couple of depressing feminism discussions.
We had group meeting this morning which was delayed because my boss got stuck on the way in whilst 75 geese crossed the road in single file in front of him. No kidding. This happened to Boomy and I once, only we saw a whole bunch of goslings of all ages who were so cute! And some asshole MA driver pulled right up to the crosswalk where they were crossing and started honking at them. Do you know what happens when you honk at geese who are crossing the road? Absolutely nothing. Well, they kind of look at you like, Hey are you a goose? But then you aren't so they ignore you. I imagine Boston geese are pretty well immune to the sound of car horns.
My lab mate, who I dearly love and admire, was again slurping his coffee today which made me want to wring his neck. I'd see him, out of the corner of my eye, lifting the cup to his lips and my whole body would tense as I knew what was coming . . . the cup and his head would tilt back slowly and then . . . shhhhhhlurp! Gah! My mom would have rapped him on the head, but I refrained from doing so.
Tonight my adorable flatmate and I are going to get fish for the fish tank. We are very, very excited about this. It's very domestic. I suggested that we get clear plastic handbags and fill then with water and then we will be able to carry our fish around with us, since we aren't allowed to have even very small dogs.
Today I did an application for a microscopy course, in lieu of killing more hapless little cells. Also had a couple of depressing feminism discussions.
We had group meeting this morning which was delayed because my boss got stuck on the way in whilst 75 geese crossed the road in single file in front of him. No kidding. This happened to Boomy and I once, only we saw a whole bunch of goslings of all ages who were so cute! And some asshole MA driver pulled right up to the crosswalk where they were crossing and started honking at them. Do you know what happens when you honk at geese who are crossing the road? Absolutely nothing. Well, they kind of look at you like, Hey are you a goose? But then you aren't so they ignore you. I imagine Boston geese are pretty well immune to the sound of car horns.
My lab mate, who I dearly love and admire, was again slurping his coffee today which made me want to wring his neck. I'd see him, out of the corner of my eye, lifting the cup to his lips and my whole body would tense as I knew what was coming . . . the cup and his head would tilt back slowly and then . . . shhhhhhlurp! Gah! My mom would have rapped him on the head, but I refrained from doing so.
Tonight my adorable flatmate and I are going to get fish for the fish tank. We are very, very excited about this. It's very domestic. I suggested that we get clear plastic handbags and fill then with water and then we will be able to carry our fish around with us, since we aren't allowed to have even very small dogs.
posted by Joolya at
5:48 PM
2 Comments:
Ahhh, coffee slurping.
You just gave me this horrid flashback of a couple friends that I took to dinner not long ago. He, like me, will try anything at least once if it's food (growing up in my family if you could find more than five things in the world that you wouldn't eat, you were "the picky one"). The girlfriend, on the other hand, won't touch anything with vegetables. I got her to try a spring roll which resulted in a whole slew of disgusting faces. On top of that, she chewed with her mouth open and made about the loudest smacking noises I can remember ever hearing.
I don't know where he found her, but she's not coming with us again... ever.
I used to have a co-worker who ate very crunchy apples. Slowly. Loudly. One teeny-tiny bite at a time. Every day.
He wasn't someone I loved and admired, though; in fact, early on in our association, he asked me what I was doing there, since after all, programming involves, like, math and logic and stuff, and, you know, I'm a girl. Girls don't really like that stuff, do they?
The amazing thing was, he survived. The depressing thing was, he married and reproduced.
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