Motormouth's Book Quiz I result here.

You're The Bible!
by ?
One of the most controversial, misunderstood, and yet powerful
people alive, you spark extensive discourse wherever you go. People think you
hate a whole lot of things, and you probably do, but people forget about your
hatred for shrimp. Mostly, you like to tell stories and then be overwhelmed by
how many different ways people interpret the things you tell them. The older
you are, the less forgiving you become…

Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.

Happy birthday to me, November twenty-three, it's also Fibonacci day, one one two three. And many moooooore…..

Says it all.

“Better the slowest runner than the fastest walker.”

“Llamas and gourd art”

“Men don't appreciate women who call them on their shit.”

***

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: Web/SEO Results

: Plan Formulation

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***

Stupid doesn't pay. It gets paid.

Which could be considered cool by stupid people still mulling my first point, which is: Stupid doesn't pay.

'If I'm stupid, I don't have to pay. I get in free! And, I get paid. Yuh huh!” she said (point away from self).

The thing is, stupid people make us pay: Climate change. Octuplets. Anti-blowgun laws. They're stupid. But we pay.

So really, I'm wondering: Who's stupid? Who's the stupid one? Because I thought it was that guy, but apparently, he's got me paying his tab.

Whaa?

I don't want to pay for him. I don't want to buy hipwaders, or anti-blowdart toxin, or sharpie pens so he can make Obama look like a Hawaiian/African-American Hitler. But I see these people on TV, on YouTube, on Twit — uh, that's Twitter to y'all — and then I see a commercial and I realize that they think I'm stupid, too.

Like Brooke Shields. I wanted to like you, Brooke, with your quirky unapproachability and your thighs that don't meet at the top, but now, but NOW, Brookie, you're hawking prescription medication that makes eyelashes grow faster.

Eyelashes!

Now, it's my belief that if a scientist can isolate the gene, or stimulate the follicle that adds an extra eighth of a millimeter to my undergrown eyelid fringe, couldn't that scientist, or those scientists, maybe have a shot at isolating the gene, or stimulating nerve that inhibits cancer growth? Shouldn't those scientists feel a little ashamed of themselves, a little underwhelmed with their career path, a little, dare I say it, ashamed?

(And how much do those pills cost, anyway? Are they covered under single payer?)

Ultimately, the scariest part is that stupid people know how to breed. Sarah Palin's got five kids and a grandkid already. Hell, Octomom didn't even have a boyfriend — apparently, in a pinch, a stupid-ass hyperfertility doctor will do.

Can't we send these people to school, instead? My dad, himself not a dummy, always says “time spent pursuing education is never wasted.” College costs money, but in the long run, doesn't it better benefit one's immediate and outlying community?

Plus, then, stupid genes might start hooking up with smarter genes, allowing patterns of dullness and density to be erased, or at least subverted.

I met my husband when we were co-panelists at a conference of graduate students for English, and our first-born was reciting the alphabet at 20 months. Coincidence? I don't think so.

Undent the circle of life.

Plus, as I said, college costs money. You gots to pay to play.

So pay up, dumbass.

… is that you spend some time on it, and then you're maybe halfway through your first quiz — no; you've just finished taking the quiz and have/not invited other FB “friends” to take it — and pow, it loads four out of five items but never loads the rest, and hangs, and you have to hit “reload,” which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. And you get a little angry that you can't see your quiz result, or that you had to reload the page. And then you feel a gnaw of self-disgust for caring about the thing in the first place.

Sorry I haven't written but things have been massively busy out here. Last Monday, my mom broke her hip. Not the best Columbus Day as ever was. She's doing well at the rehab center, which is the only reason why you're reading about it here.

Sorry if you're one of the people I should have emailed about it. Last Monday was also Day One of two that Monstro was going to crank out his MLA job-list applications. Mail merge, letters, labels, cv, stuff, more stuff, stuff it in an envelope and then fill out the certified mail with return receipt postcard forms and paperclip each one individually and take them to the post office and spend so much time there with Postman Tyrone that you're building as much of a relationship as you have with (pretty much) anyone here.

It is amazing that in this time of recession, there are nearly fifty job opportunities for (tenure-track) professorships for Monstro, and he's such a smart cookie that it feels like God has filled us with everything and now it's just up for one (or two) esteemed colleges (in places where it doesn't snow seems almost like asking too much, especially with only one job, period, in California) to recognize his (His) gifts.

So this is where Motormouth (non-parenthetically) thanks Jesus for the solid.

In my free time, I've taken Lex candlepin bowling, have determined my art project's scope and format to make good on my promise to published-poet Anne, and set up a WordPress blog at ListenToEd.com as my father's 70th birthday gift; he didn't find out about it until he received the ListenToEd.com business cards via snail-mail, courtesy of moi via VistaPrint.

My father is the man who has pretty much everything, so when he calls a gift you've given him “fucking priceless,” you can consider that to be a massive score: Motormouth, FTW!

Can this week be over yet? Preferably WITHOUT snow? Thank you.

I think it shows the increasing depth of my training that I haven't even logged my last four runs. Last Tuesday I hit a milestone — I ran for the fun of running. I powered up the big hill at Smith and let out an amusing-to-passersby war whoop at the top. BK and I ran and ran and ran. Such a blast.

The next day I ran, too… but where? Don't remember.

Saturday I didn't run, but I hosted a baby shower here, and probably did 2.5-3.0 miles from the living room to the kitchen and back.

This week on Monday I showed up early to preschool pick-up, in hopes of running the track. Selfishly, the track was closed to everyone not on a collegiate track team. So I ran a two-mile loop around part of the campus. Very satisfying, particularly as the last time I ran on the dirt part, I had to stop to walk three times! This time, I ran it and its distance again, without stopping.

Tuesday I planned to have lunch with a friend, so I ran into town. Literally. The fortuitious part was, I started late and couldn't use my more scenic route, but my typically busy street was having its bike-lane markers repainted, so there were pylons stretched the length of my run.

When I shared this with my friend, she said, “Like you were in your own personal 10K!” Kris is so funny, I love her. Plus, she doesn't mind if her lunch date is actively perspiring until the food comes.

No running yesterday, but I did listen to a congested BK holler all day (no naps!), which kept my muscles tense, if not engaged.

Got this from a close buddy via email today: …firmly in the dark side of my 3rd decade, I have come to reflect on my luck and good fortune to have such a good friend.

Awww! Thanks & I'm glad you enjoyed your birthday gifts!

Not only did I get BK to self-soothe himself to sleep, but the Gartner quote approval came in at 8:20 and I was able to get it added to the press release I'd scheduled for 10:00 publication.

The funny thing is, I always (like, every single time) schedule press releases at 9:00 a.m., but yesterday the thought came into my head to try 10:00 publication, instead. It was the only reason why I was able to get the quote added. Amazeballs.

Press release here. Thank you, Jesus. I owe you one…. or 23,000,001. Who's counting?