Today I drove out to the middle of nowhere–also known as Fridley–to get a used taillight to replace the old taillight on my Honda, which got broken out when someone who shall remain nameless but bears a suspicious resemblance to my husband backed into a dumpster. (The dumpster was at fault, mind you.) Continued reading “A Storm of Swords” which I hadn’t ever finished. George R. R. Martin. Good stuff. Dynastic complicated political fantasy and yet not painful, which is rare, even if I find that the character I like the most and identify with is not the array of plucky young girls and young men coming of age, but the middle-aged politicking drunken wenching and generally embittered dwarf. (As in short, not as in beard, Hi ho, hi ho.) This may say something profound about me, but I’m not sure what.

I lost a day somewhere this week. I thought it was Wednesday. It can’t be Thursday already. Time is moving so fast that I am beginning to suspect that my car gets light-years to the gallon and that I am moving in some funky relativity rift and going faster than everybody else, making time pass more rapidly for the rest of the world. Or…er…would it be the other way around? Would they be moving faster and so time would be going slower for them and…um….

Oh, that’s right…I went into the social sciences to avoid equations. Now I remember.

By the way, kids, anyone who tells you that you will use geometry in art in an effort to make you memorize pi-r-squared is lying. I remember my algebra teacher telling me this, and now that I’ve gone into art, I can safely say that I’ve never even used the Pythagorean theorem, even on my most complicated perspective pieces. In fact, the place I use higher math the most is playing Shadowrun. That’s the only time I trot out equations for anything. I’m still smarting from the time we miscarried the one, read the map wrong, and accidentally turned a gently rolling slope into a near vertical grade, which my samurai had to climb up, barehanded, while fighting off a gargoyle. Had I payed attention in geometry, I might have been spared. I have no idea what the moral of this story is, but then, I hardly ever do.