A Friday at Home

It's a quiet Friday for me.  It snowed a bit here this afternoon and evening and I was seized with my usual Friday snow-weather impulse: drive out to get pizza.  I love being out in the snow.

It reminded me a little bit of this past Christmas Eve.  The snow was much worse then, of course -- I was in the grip of a blizzard.  Tonight's snow was positively dainty by comparison.  Still, the roads and grass are covered, which is certainly the bare minimum of what something that calls itself a snowstorm should achieve.

But what most resembles Christmas Eve is that it's me, alone, looking out of the windows into the snowy night, feeling very much alone.

What is the sound of one hand e-mailing?

This morning, the first shred of news arrived from a university I applied to in December. From their music department, I received an e-mail from somebody who has a name that sounds vaguely sci-fi (imagine something like "Sul Kips"). It was a request to have an attached form filled out and returned.

At least I know they're actually doing something over there.

Frustergrated

No, it's not a word.

FRUS - ter - 'gray - tid, n.

1. A state of being in a colloidal system comprised of frustration and aggravation.  Characterized by a general feeling of dissatisfaction and grump, but without an obvious course of alleviation. 

The World According to Pat Robertson

When I was growing up, I'd often see TV listings for "The 700 Club".  I always assumed it was a financial show (something like the "Fortune 500"), though my father never watched it on during dinner as we did with "Wall Street Week in Review".  It wasn't until college when I connected "The 700 Club" with some of the strange sentences coming out of Pat Robertson's mouth.

The only time I ever think of Pat Robertson is when I hear him say something unbelievably hateful.  I would think this would be a TERRIBLE situation for someone to be in who prides himself on being a "man of God", but it doesn't really bother him.

So if Hamlet had been a Sprint subscriber...

I've been thinking for years about updating my poor cell phone.  The numbers have worn off, the keys are starting to malfunction, the battery holds much less time than it used to, and it doesn't conform to the SMS (Short Messaging Service) standard which all the kids use to "text" nowadays.  It's old-scool, baby.  And after years of research and waiting, I finally struck out and bought a new phone.

In fact, it's sitting by my left foot right now.  A brand new state-of-the-art epitome of computing and communications technology -- the "released this year of 2010" Nexus One from Google and HTC.  It contains cutting edge technology like an AMOLED display screen, a top-of-line 1GHz Snapdragon processor, and even a rear-facing auxillary microphone designed only to capture the ambient noise and filter it out of the call.  It is a triumph of our collective genius and represents the newest vanguard in the smartphone war.

It's also getting sent back to the factory.  Unopened.

It's 2010, so that means it's the future!

Time to pick up the slack reins of blogging once again.

I had a great holiday break, filled with all kinds of things that I want to do.  I returned to Kansas City in the midst of a snowstorm which was how I left it on Christmas Day.  This pleases me greatly.  Last night the low here was -2 degrees or so, which is certainly cold enough for anyone.  It may kill my friend from Florida when she arrives -- if one can die from snow-anger and grumbling.