Sunday, November 20, 2005
*woof*
One may wonder, given the recent spatterings of photos added to my posts that are mostly irrelevant to the subject matter, what the relevance is. It seems Blogger and Worldcall certainly do not get along, and up untill a couple of days ago, I thought it was just me, but Sam's [see sidebar] recent post about the same problem has enlightened me. Anyhow, given that more often than not a post ends up in digital heaven when posted at blogger directly, I've had to take more roundabout ways to getting my posts through. Flickr is one of them. However, I first have to do a quick photo search to see if there is any photo I can possibly relate to the subject matter. In this particular post, I searched for a puppy and selected the first cute one I came across. Does it even matter what the illustration is, in the long run?
Anyway, the subject of my anger today is overachiver drama queens who start bawling at the drop of a hat (or Grade Point). Get over it already, so your perfect A-average is brought down a notch, that's no reason to burst into tears and require people with other things on their minds to have to go after you because everyone else happens to be male and so eliminated from the task of comforting distraught females by virtue of their gender. Bah. Luckily, I found said person surrounded by a small audience of friends attempting to hang on to her sputtering attempt to tell them the story behind the waterworks. Excellent, that means I'm not needed, since I can barely control rolling my eyes at such blatantly public displays of emotion anyway. Grow up, people, you're in Grad school now! When faced with a problem, either go off and brood until your mood brightens up enough to make you worthy of social contact again or force yourself to be social anyway.
I like to think of myself as a fairly broody person. A friend commented upon this to her significant other, who, unfortunately, associated the word "brood" exclusively with hens laying eggs and found himself confused as to how exactly I was "brooding". Guys are so ridiculously silly sometimes, it's enough to force you to start laughing again.
Anyhow, so I'm going to start brooding again because the midnight hour is approaching, and that means soon it will be time to drive mum and sis to the airport. They like to pretend they'll be back in a month, maybe two, but I'm not exactly holding my breath here. When someone's travelling as far as the US for tests, I'm willing to bet they'll choose to stay for whatever treatment needs to be dished out as well, rather than return and make the whole trip all over again.
Misha
at Sunday, November 20, 2005
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