I need a pill that let's me sleep less. That'd be pretty sweet. Somebody should invent that.
So we got a dog. His name is Isaac, as in Asimov (everyone guesses Newton, but a past pet had already taken that name). He's entertaining, if lazy. We hadn't planned to get a dog; he was a bit of a hard-luck case: he was mauled by a much larger dog, who managed to bite him around his rib cage, breaking a few of those and even collapsing a lung. He was brought into one of the clinics where Jen works, nursed back to health by the staff there, and subsequently adopted out to the first suckers who came along, namely us. Actually, there was a bit of a list of homes for the little guy; he's a very good dog, whip smart and as friendly as you could ask for. It's our first mammalian pet (indeed, our first endotherm) and, so far, the most high-maintenance (you mean we have to feed him every day?). Yet, even though we haven't had him for even two weeks yet, it's hard to imagine the house without him.
So, just how much radiation is in a CT scan? Well, considering that I have to get several of these a year, and have already had, oh, I guess it's been seven or so by now, I'm understandably curious. Fortunately, here's an interesting website that discusses this very topic. The short version: every CT scan I have done is about the equivalent of ~3.3 years of normal, background radiation. That's a total of something like 22 years of normal radiation, all crammed in to a year and a half. That can't be good. But the alternative is worse.
Oh, and the backlash against the new Mac commercials continues. See here.
I don't have anything against Macs, I swear I don't. I do dislike their ad campaigns and this latest one is no different. I'm glad to see that the backlash has already begun.
Got to close a few tabs.
Upholding a tradition, I bring you yet more weird computer cases, this time made of wood (which isn't too weird, I think the first Apple computer was housed in a wood box).
This guy is a member of my TC mailing list. A great guy, now his home town has dedicated a park bench to him.
Ever wonder how much historical swords weighed? Well, I do, but I'm a little soft in the head.
"I'm so annoyed; I have a zit on my philtrum."
"That is annoying."
"On the bright side, I got to say 'phitrum' in a sentence."
"Well, there is that. Don't get many chances to do that."
Grr. Got a notice in the mail the other day, we're being audited by the IRS. They want to see some specific records from 2004, the "cancer year". It's a safe bet that the return for that particular year looked a little wonky because: a) the cancer treatment threw the fincances out of whack, and b) my sister did our returns (and actually got us the largest return we've received to date, although other factors played into that as well, I'm sure). What a pain in the ass.
I have an onco appointment tomorrow. I don't expect any trouble, but I'll let you know.
Finally, my third reason for being bitter: the revisions to the book are not going well. I don't think I'm 100% sold on them. To make matters worse, a little missing piece of my auxillary project came unbidden into my head a few days ago and, in the process of making some notes about it, a whole lot more came tumbling out until, today, it looks like about 90% of my unanswered questions about the plot are now answered, some of them fairly tidily I might add. So it looks like I'll be putting the current project back on the shelf (yet again) and picking up the pen for the other one, probably sometime next week. Sure would be nice to finish something.
| You Belong in Dublin |
 You're the perfect person to go wild on a pub crawl... or enjoy a quiet bike ride through the old part of town. |
