(And it sounds so much better if you say it "mash-in-air-ee"...)
Old habits are hard to break, apparently even for phone systems: Over the weekend our work telephones fell back, according to the old Daylight Saving Time rules (officially no 's' on Saving, kids).
This led to a hilarious level of internal stress within the museum since everyone was not noticing new messages until over an "hour" later. Hilarious! In all of two days, an unsentient machine made 100 people feel a bit insane. To the dystopic, I argue that we handed over control of our fears/emotions/bodies years ago...
Alas, ghosts in the machine just in time for Halloween.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Why I Love Google, Part XVII
I am a total Googlephile. They just put up street views of Chicago as part of their mapping service.
Not Meant To Last
If there's one positive aspect to lean on after learning that your landlord is planning to demolish your apartment building come spring, it's that he no longer cares about the little money he's making in rent or the final state of the apartment. We'll absolutely get every cent of our deposit back. An additional benefit is that your landlord suddenly decides to give you the garage for free, nixing the $200-per-month price tag. The garage, mind you, that is so large that it can fit oh, four economy cars and all the furniture you no longer want sitting in your living room. Expect a winter garage party for the roommates and 100 of our closest friends.
When I parked my [essentially fugitive] car with expired tags and Iowa plates within the four walls, roof, and automatic door this morning, I realized I haven't parked in a private garage since I've owned this car. Even more, I haven't parked A CAR in a garage since high school. It's sort of a privilege reserved to those with money or enough land to build one on (like the eighteen storage sheds on the farm back home). Seeing as how it affected my mood, predictably for rest of the day, I recommend parking in a garage every morning. Add to that a gigantic blueberry muffin from the farmers market and you'll be set.
When I parked my [essentially fugitive] car with expired tags and Iowa plates within the four walls, roof, and automatic door this morning, I realized I haven't parked in a private garage since I've owned this car. Even more, I haven't parked A CAR in a garage since high school. It's sort of a privilege reserved to those with money or enough land to build one on (like the eighteen storage sheds on the farm back home). Seeing as how it affected my mood, predictably for rest of the day, I recommend parking in a garage every morning. Add to that a gigantic blueberry muffin from the farmers market and you'll be set.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)