Finished Order of the Phoenix at 11:40pm, meaning that I read the entire book the first day it was out. Probably not the smartest move, as it will probably be another bloody 2 year wait for the next one.

As I got all of four hours of sleep, got up and walked around the "back to the fifties" car show for three and a half hours, then spent the entire rest of the day reading, it's safe to say it's time for bed.

Proving that I am positively barking mad, I went out at quarter of midnight and got on line for the newest Harry Potter book, even though I'm about ten years too old for the damn things. I'm off to read now, even though I have to be up by 8:15 in the morning.

Barking mad.

Ahren Potratz.

Edited 4/5/2007: On a more adult note, I hope you're well and happy, Ahren. I suspect you've run across my juvenile, moronic rant, and I'm sorry.

Aparently, I'm more virtuous than I thought:

The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to the First Level of Hell - Limbo!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very High
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

Sadly, I'm a little disappointed... This test was funny -- kinda like the old purity tests, except on those I come out as more of a bad-ass in the end.

May I please rant? Oh, wait -- I don't have to ask.

The stupid, sodding jerk from good ol' South High who went to NYU the same year I was there AND reported to all and sundry at home that I was a fridgid bitch after I refused to fuck him after really only knowing him beyond "hi, how are you?" for THREE DAYS has graduated from the U, is acting around town (not terribly successfully, cold comfort), has a bloody AGENT, is dating a woman 5 years his senior (I bet he met her just after she suffered some unfortunate head trauma), and is buying a house with her. To add insult to injury, his blog has links to Common Dreams (I could hate him much more profoundly if his politics ran to the redneck end of the spectrum) and he's learning to drive a stick shift (me too). Just what I wanted: to be having a major "I hate you" fest and be reminded that we do have some things in common. Asshole.

Ranting done. I'm going to bed. I'm getting up tomorrow and (maybe) going to protest Dubya's presence in my fair state. And in the highest office in the land.

Jon sent a link to a site showing a bit of a switch on the part of the NYT. The first headline for the story talked about beginning construction at the old WTC site in conjunction with the GOP convention (which is in NY), the second was revised to omit reference to the convention. If the GOP wants to take credit for the construction, they've apparently got the New York Times on their side...

This three posts in one day bit must end... though technically, it's tomorrow...

I just read the text of a speech given by Bill Moyers that, should anyone accidentally stumble across this blog and be bored enough to read this far, is absolutely must-read.

I'm really done for the night now. Going to bed. For the third time.

Back home with my dial-up... talk about a let-down.

Today sucked considerably less than most non-vacation days in recent memory. I met with my advisor at school who surprised me completely by encouraging my uncertainty about all things dissertation related, saying that it's good to explore potential topics and as long as I settle down by the end of next year I should be just fine. I also found unexpected sympathy for my dreadful methods class saga, which reaffirms my decision not to quit just yet...

Woo hoo! I'm WIRELESS!!!!!!!!

Although, my computer likes Jon and hates me, as he had to fix it for me.

What a lovely day!!! I didn't haul out of bed until 11 am, took it easy until 2, then went and bought more memory for this cursed... er... wonderful machine. It now qualifies as a flying machine:-)

Jon and Theresa accompanied me on my quest, and upon its completion, we all celebrated by dragging Uncle Rob's canoe from my backyard down to the lake for a leisurely paddle. No turtles today -- the blasted jet ski probably scared them away. Lots of ducks and geese, though, including a mama mallard and her five very tiny babies.

I must be off to bed, as tomorrow's festivities include actually going in to the office... sigh.

Here I am... back for more abuse.

San Diego was sunny and wonderful for the bulk of my visit. The highlight was, of course, paddling -- I rented a sit-on-top and went out to look at the LaJolla caves. There were loads of sea lions basking on rocks, though the swell kept me from getting close enough to get decent pictures (because of course, I had a camera with me:-).

Shanna was a brilliant, patient hostess, carting my sorry behind all over the place and playing tourist with me. I also got to meet a bunch of her friends. Most amusing was the night when four of us went pub-hopping. Why is it that every guy in the city thinks that going to an Irish pub means you have to try to pick up girls using a fake Irish accent? Of course, the most amusing moron of the night was an honest-to-goodness Irishman (and boy, did we quiz him to make sure of that!). He was a very drunken Irishman whose main line was "I'm a local hip-hop artist." He claimed to be recording right now, but when pressed to perform tried to beg off, claiming that he hates showing off because his buddies always try to make him perform for their girls in hopes that they'll get some play (I swear to god, those are not my words). Eventually, vanity won out, and I can honestly say he sounded like a bad of Eminem impersonator with a thick Irish brogue and a vested interest in the plight of divided Ireland.

Prior to my SD escapades, I was in Duluth. That vacation got off to a dubious start, as I had to drive right back home to fig grading problems. Once I got BACK up there, things went much better. I managed to make it to the river three times in one weekend, did not damage my poor shoulder, and only had one minor incident with the man-eating rock. Most fun was probably dragging Ryan out at eight in the morning for one last run before he went back to Ohio indefinitely. Such a sport, even after we colluded with his parents to deprive him of sleep. If you read this, Ry, photos will be forthcoming as soon as I haul my sorry ass out and get them developed.

So now I'm back, and it's less than idyllic here, but not as horrid as it could be. I have been told that I can't quit school, as I haven't gotten to the fun part yet. I have not been told which part that is, but I guess I'll have a little faith (or better yet, a little booze)... for now.