Slack

My professors have been cutting me a lot of slack lately. Frankly, I appreciate it. Especially after that bug I got visiting my parents for the weekend. I find that whenever I visit for a holiday weekend, I always suffer through the drive home.

My niece gave my sister chocolate. She gave me a sore throat.

This never happens when there isn't a holiday, though. Any random visit back home seems to end well, but tack on a holiday, and it never fails. Take Thanksgiving for example. I was fine the entire weekend, right up until Sunday night before my drive back. The traffic was bumper to bumper in an ice storm, so pulling over wasn't a safe option.

I'll spare you the details, but it wasn't pretty. (Unless you're into postmodernism. I call it, dinner on a '98 Contour)

Holidays. Side effects may include headache, dizziness, sore throat, earache, upset stomach, vomiting, muscle aches, and the feeling of a hangover without the benefit of a night out before. Holidays may not be right for everyone. Ask your doctor before ever going home again.

The greatest gift of all (not what you think)

Note: my glow worm doesn't glow any more.

Anyhoo, I noticed something. Though tiny over in the next room has a few words to say about how often I should sleep (or rather one word, repeated ad nauseum and in varying tones and styles), he has produced something I haven't seen before.

Free food.

My sister came into town yesterday. She, with my sister in law, cooked for four hours making various foodstuffs that can be stored for months in a freezer, but only need to be put into an oven when I want it. Not just that, but over the last week, I've been on the phone with three people who called asking what time was convenient to drop by with (wait for it...) free food.

I figure I'll teach him how to cook before this dries up.

80's cartoon/toy

So... Jr's bilirubin levels are through the roof. They went down in the lights at the hospital, so we went home. They almost doubled since then. The hospital sent us some funny light pad to help. It's this really bright bulb in a projector housing, but rather than a lens, it hooks up a a bunch of fiber optic cables that lead into a pad. Said pad then rests on Jr's back, and it breaks down the bilirubin.

Ok, my kid is hooked up to a machine, and only 3 days old. What the heck! I've been waiting way longer, why am I not a cyborg yet?

...he was wrapped up and put into his crib, and the light shut off. I peeked inside, and he looks like a glow worm.

Stupid bilirubin. Get out of my kid.

+1, different category

Well, I just had a baby today. Yay, right? I am so freakin tired. Welcome aboard, kid.

Telepath comic writer

It's been a decade and I'm still having this dream about high school. I swear Randall Munroe has been watching me, reading my mind, mining my subconscious for comic material. It's not the first time he's hit something in my head I've never said out loud.

Wax. Lots of wax.

Not long ago, I found myself at a wedding reception where guests received little votive candles as a gift. There was an abundance of extras, and I found myself (like many of the other guests) bringing home more than a few.

So these candles were sitting on top of the rather large (and completely useless) mantle in my living room. (The one over the gas fireplace that's been capped off, painted over, and had a wooden floor installed into it) Female companionship dictated that candles must be lit. So they were. After she'd removed herself from the candles, I found them to be more of a liability so long as they were lit. So I go down the line, puffing them out. One at a time. *POOF* out *POOF* out, etc, until the last one. *POOF*. Still lit. *POOF!* Still lit. So I go for the gusto with a blast of air that would make a compressor hide in shame. Just as quickly, I realized that it was a candle in a shot glass, not on a stick. Wax melts, but has nowhere to go. This runny liquid wax sat in a pool with a little flame atop the whole time. Such a blast of air at it felt dictated that not only must the flame depart, but so must the wax.

It didn't burn my face, no. I just had a hard time explaining the dry wax in my eyebrows a few minutes later.

Unbalanced comodities

Overheard in Target yesterday:

Him: "They have Wii Fit here. I've never actually seen it in a store"

Her: "That's rare"

Him: "This is why we need to buy it today. Here. Now"

Her: "...it's expensive"

Him: "It's worse online. People are jacking the prices pretty bad"

Her: Clearly understanding that he'll buy it one day.. "I suppose it'll happen eventually"

Him: "So you're saying we can buy it"

Her: "I have a condition"

Him: "?"

Her: "I get new nail clippers"

Him: "Deal"

The moral of the story kids: personal hygiene paraphernalia ranks very highly with some women.