January 2004 Archives
Hello, I'm a meme! If you're reading me, without even thinking, you're considering my well-being and perpetuation. If you want me to live, copy these four sentences, and paste them somewhere other people will read. Thanks!
And win the missus a Kewpie doll!
I am nearing the completion of the strangest mail-order transaction I have ever been a part of.
It started about two weeks ago when I ordered another 200 poker chips from CasinoSupply.com to round out the set Mary Alice gave me last year as an anniversary gift.
Spent most of Monday on campus attending orientation for the Software Engineering Program. It was my first time there as a student since May of 1999. I really take my familiarity with the 40 acres for granted...there are students from San Antonio, Bay City, and Tuscon, Arizona that are seeing everything for the first time.
The contrast between this orientation and the one I attended in 1994 before coming in as a freshman is just mind-boggling. There are only 30 people starting the program this year, opposed to 300+ that were in CS 304P with me. It seems I've already had more conversations with classmates and professors than I did in five years of undergraduate study. Part of that is due to me maturing and wanting to get more out of this program, but I also see a higher level of personal involvement from the faculty and staff. It is obvious that they want to help us learn and succeed. It helps that "lines of code" is no longer a foreign phrase to me, as it was 10 years ago.
Bear and I were out on our walk this morning when he began barking and growling at a foreign object on the sidewalk. The object of his rancor was an old wheelbarrow someone had discarded. It was sitting in the internationally understood position of "I'm tired of this damn thing, you take it." One of the handles was broken with the pieces thrown into the tray and the wheel was a little splayed.
Since I had been thinking about wheelbarrows moments before (I need to put down a layer of Dillo Dirt on my yard), I took the presence of the wheelbarrow as a sign. Then I took the wheelbarrow.
Walking eight blocks with a dog on a leash while maneuvering a disabled wheelbarrow is not an easy task. Fortunately we had already run quite a bit, so Bear was only tugging, not yanking. Now that I think about it, I probably could have attached his leash to the front axle and had an easier time, but hopefully I'll never have an occasion to find out.
We made it home after about 10 minutes and 10 strange looks from commuters. It will probably take me 10 weeks to finally fix up the wheelbarrow, but maybe I can get 10 years of service out of it after that.