Pro Tip

When sending an email to a company to enquire whether that company is hiring for a given position, you probably want to avoid referring to the company as “you guys.”  Really.  I don’t think my response to this is overreaction to some kind of assumed verbal sexism (email appears to have been written by a woman).  Even if you knew knew from personal experience that every employee of this company has a penis (though if you did know that for a fact, you probably wouldn’t want to apply to that company for other reasons), I’d suggest avoiding that phrase and cranking up the professionalism just a smidgen.

My assvice for the day, take it or leave it.  You’re very welcome.


Thanks to fun sounding stuff like electron-positron annihilation and neutral pion decay and inverse Compton scattering

In honor of this, I give you this:

If I could hold hold out for now
With these icecaps melting down
With the transistor sound
And my Chevrolet Terraplane
Going around around around
Come on little gamma ray
Standing in a hurricane
Your brains are bored
Like a refugee from a house that’s burning
And the heat wave’s calling your name
She’s got a cactus crown
With a dot dot dot on her brow
And she speaks inside a cloud
With her countenance turning around
It hit me like a gamma ray
Standing in a hurricane
I’m pulling out thorns
Smokestack lightning out my window
I want to know what I’ve lost today
Come on little gamma ray
Standing in a hurricane
Your body’s bored
Like a refugee from a house that’s burning
And the backwater’s calling your name

Lyrics via  Album version/official video is here, but embedding is disabled.  Boo.

Grace in Small Things

  1. Meeting a friend of a friend last night, hearing him talk about going to Athens often, thinking “Wow, I hope Kate runs into him; I bet she’d more than like him,” then finding out he’s been dating Kate for several months.  Having not seen Kate in person in ten years made this a weirdly small-world moment.
  2. The descriptor “It’ll have you lost in your own backyard.”
  3. Random quotes: “What we hope ever to do with ease we may first learn to do with diligence.”  (Samuel Johnson)
  4. More:  “We all need to have a creative outlet – a window, a space – so we don’t lose track of ourselves.”  (Norman Fischer)
  5. Um, okay, dude.  Nice creative outlet (via Avitable):

Grace in Small Things

  1. Assorted miniature Hershey chocolate bars passed out by a coworker.  Mmmm, Special Dark.
  2. The godless corner of the office.  You should join us.  There’s chocolate.
  3. The trees are still on fire and it’s been quite warmish of late and the sun has been shining with shocking regularity.
  4. Returning to listening to the news on the morning commute after not doing so for a long time.  Tomorrow is Science Thursday!  I have an inexplicable yet violent affection for that theme music.  I think it might include a kazoo.
  5. She said it much better than I could.

It’s not teen spirit…

Me:  Why does it smell like blueberries in here?
Mike:  It doesn’t.

[phone call, dinner, distraction, escaping dog, etc.]

Me:  So, that must be a new air freshener thing, right?
Mike:  Yeah.
Me:  Well if it’s not blueberries, what is it supposed to be?
Mike:  I don’t know…it was pink.
Me:  Pink?
Mike:  Yes.
Me:  So….the house smells like…pink.  Awesome.

Is it terrible that I need to know what this smell is supposed to be?  If the box isn’t buried in the trash and I can read it, will I like it more or less?  What the fuck is pink and smells like blueberries?  Or like a blueberry air freshener (ew) would smell?  How can I not know what my own house smells like?  Damn you, Glade!  Or Febreze or Airwick or whatever the hell, and your vaguely fruity but non-distinguishable aromatic nonsense.