March 3rd, 2006

Tree Me

Slightly delayed Insta!rec OR Mom, she's doing it again!

Hey *pokes you all*

Go check out raucousraven's latest Numb3rs bit here. No, don't ask me why. Just do it.

*twiddles thumbs*

*examines nails*

*talks to the Rodneyfish*

... are you still here? *sigh* Okay, then. The vital stats: it's brief, it's deep, and it's gen. It's a fantastic riff on a character much referenced and never seen, and once again she's managed to take one factoid and turn it just enough to catch a whole new spectrum of light. This time, she's set out to break your heart, and she will. Gently.

Plus, it's poetic as all getout. Convinced yet? Good. Now go read A la claire fontaine by raucousraven and tell her how soft and lovely it is.

No court in the land, I tell you.

Dear whoever it was that decided that there should be a symposium fusion (yes, Bowie, I'm looking at you),

Please do not breed.

I'm sure this seemed like a great and wonderful idea, and I'm sure it will work beautifully once the kinks are ironed out, but... I would prefer not to be among the test subjects. In particular, it would be very nice if you would check in with the science students and properly explain that this is not, in fact, a new and optional event. This is the blob that ate the science symposium; a mutant, if you will. All of which would be fine and good, no doubt fascilitating intercourse among the departments and producing cute little baby interdepartmental projects, were it not for two facts: 1) your email gave both advisors and students alike the impression that this was a separate entity only based on the first, and 2) this led to them discovering one hour in advance that their abstract was now due a full two weeks ahead of the previous schedule. And for science students, no part of this is optional. No presentation, no thesis, no honors.

Not cool. Not cool at all.

It is done, and I love my advisor to pieces for taking one look at my wide-eyed terror and saying, "So, okay, we write fast. Grab your laptop and let's toast this badboy." For future reference, though, please remember to phrase things very simply for the scientists. We deal with many dangerous chemicals, and our cognitive powers may be somewhat hindered. Small words and visual aids are advisable.

Slightly dysfunctional love,

I'm going to go take a nap now, but when I get back those missiles are so fired. Or, you know, I might just put on some good music and play with the website. I feel I've earned the right to veg.

ETA: Or maybe I'll work on that proposed moodtheme. This one is wholly inadequate.