First off, happy birthday to Joel and Kevin…I think. If your birthdays were yesterday, make that happy belated birthday.
Sometime yesterday afternoon one of the hallways at work got closed off thanks to some sort of plumbing mishap that made it look (and smell) as if someone had tipped over a porta-potty.
This morning when I arrived to work out, the hallway was still closed off, meaning that I had to take the long way to get to the fitness center. Along the way I began to have concerns about whether or not the plumbing problem was also affecting the showers.
Turns out it was, and the locker rooms were closed.
This meant that I couldn’t work out, as I wouldn’t be able to wash the sweat off afterwards and that I had an hour to kill.
If I rushed, I could have driven home, taken a shower, and come back, but I really didn’t feel up to it, so I opted instead to simply wet down and gel my hair, get dressed in the handicap stall of one of the working bathrooms, and heavily deodorize myself.
I still had a lot of time to kill before work, though, so to use up part of that time I drove over to a nearby convenience store.
When I got out of my car there was a truck pulling into the parking lot. To clear up any doubt that people might have about his masculinity, the driver of the truck made sure to rev his engine several times, because, as everyone knows, having a loud vehicle proves that you’re a man and that your dick really isn’t small. And besides, size doesn’t matter anyway.
In any case, the truck’s driver and passenger looked like some parody of young rednecks that you might see in a movie. The smaller one was dressed from head to toe in camouflage chic, while the larger, fatter one, whose lips seemed to be curled up in a permanent stupefied smile, was wearing a camouflage shirt paired with jeans that were cut off just above the knee. Atop his big, round head he wore a blaze orange knitted hat that seemed have first been pulled all the way over his enormous melon, then rolled back up to the point that it looked like it was about to fall off.
Their presence made the store’s two swarthy employees quite visibly nervous.
When I left the store, I noted that the truck had “Juniors 07” written on the windows.
It was all just so randomly bizarre.
In any case, the upshot of this all is that I get to sleep in a bit tomorrow and skip my workout…although technically I could still get up early and just use the fitness center at HQ, but we’ll just l pretend that isn’t true…
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Cell Phone Bank Robber
Police Seek Cell Phone Bank Robber
Luckily, it wasn't my bank.
In the most recent heist, the woman, with sunglasses casually pushed up on
her dark hair and a mobile phone at her ear, walked up to a bank teller in
Ashburn, Virginia, on Nov. 4 and opened her purse to show a handgun and a note demanding cash, said Loudoun County sheriff's spokesman Kraig Troxell.
Luckily, it wasn't my bank.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
And The Winner Is...
Below is the undisputed winner for "Most Unintentionally Hilarious Jack T. Chick Panel Ever." It features "Bible" Bob Williams, star of 25 tracts, in a tract entitled The Outcast witnessing to a ho named Shirley whose pimp has just gotten through "witnessing" to her in an entirely different fashion with his pimp cane.
Fortunately, to keep her mind off the excrutiating pain she's going through, her friend Janet has been telling her the "wonderful" story of Rahab, a whore who helped bring about the fall of Jericho.
The story has brought hope into Shirley's long-neglected and under-nourished soul. That was just the warm up for the main event, though, and here we see Bob getting ready to bring it on home:
...
There are just SOOOO many ways I could go with this, but I think I'll just let it speak for itself.
Ah man, seeing this panel makes going to Hell totally worth it.
Ten million years into eternity I'll still be laughing my ass off about this one even while I'm burning in the Lake of Fire.
Haw-Haw-Haw-ouch!
Fortunately, to keep her mind off the excrutiating pain she's going through, her friend Janet has been telling her the "wonderful" story of Rahab, a whore who helped bring about the fall of Jericho.
The story has brought hope into Shirley's long-neglected and under-nourished soul. That was just the warm up for the main event, though, and here we see Bob getting ready to bring it on home:
...
There are just SOOOO many ways I could go with this, but I think I'll just let it speak for itself.
Ah man, seeing this panel makes going to Hell totally worth it.
Ten million years into eternity I'll still be laughing my ass off about this one even while I'm burning in the Lake of Fire.
Haw-Haw-Haw-ouch!
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Random Pictures
There are a few pictures I've taken recently with the intention of posting them here. I figured I'd finally get around to posting them, starting with this one:
This was in the parking lot at the grocery store where I do most of my shopping. What I found interesting was that the driver, who actually had a handicap permit hanging in the window, was thoughtful enough to not park across two handicapped spaces.
Up next is a shot of what I have set as my desktop wallpaper:
With a near life-size image of Rachael Leigh Cook staring back at me, it's no wonder I have difficulty actually accomplishing anything.
Next we see a shot of the new computer. Nothing too special, but I figured I'd let you all see it:
And finally, here's a shot of the Windows Media Center front end, where you can access the special tools for viewing pictures, videos, TV, and listening to music:
In the lower left-hand corner you can see the minimized album art for the mp3 I was listening to at the time. The album was Queensryche's "The Warning," and as you can see, the specific song was "Before the Storm."
This was in the parking lot at the grocery store where I do most of my shopping. What I found interesting was that the driver, who actually had a handicap permit hanging in the window, was thoughtful enough to not park across two handicapped spaces.
Up next is a shot of what I have set as my desktop wallpaper:
With a near life-size image of Rachael Leigh Cook staring back at me, it's no wonder I have difficulty actually accomplishing anything.
Next we see a shot of the new computer. Nothing too special, but I figured I'd let you all see it:
And finally, here's a shot of the Windows Media Center front end, where you can access the special tools for viewing pictures, videos, TV, and listening to music:
In the lower left-hand corner you can see the minimized album art for the mp3 I was listening to at the time. The album was Queensryche's "The Warning," and as you can see, the specific song was "Before the Storm."
Stupid Cupid
Last night, tired from having to get up early and from spending the day being fairly bored in the Excel class, I was considering going to bed a bit earlier than usual.
At around midnight I opted to go through one last channel surf before calling it quits and stumbled across “Bade: Trinity.”
I wasn’t going to watch it, figuring that I could either set the DVR to record it, or catch it during some other airing.
Not that I had any particular interest in watching it; I just figured I might as well do so at some point, given that I’d seen the other two.
Still, as I sat there feeling too tired to get up and go to bed, I found myself resolving to see how one particular scene was going to play out, and before I knew it I was halfway through the movie, and though I wasn’t actually enjoying it, having invested that much time in I figured I might as well see it through to the end.
Once it was (mercifully) over, I made my way to bed and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I woke up a bit after 8 and considered getting up, even though I’d only gotten about six hours of sleep, but decided against it. However, before I could manage to drift back to sleep the garbage truck arrived and proceeded to spend fifteen minutes getting into position, which involved a lot of backing up (and therefore a lot of beeping), followed by about five minutes of picking the dumpster up, putting it back down, and shaking it like a kid shaking the Christmas presents he’s found hidden in his parents’ closet.
Albeit briefly, I actually was a garbageman at one point in my life, so I know for a fact that it really isn’t necessary to devote that much time – and noise – to simply emptying a dumpster. These people are clearly just fucking with all of the people of the world who don’t have to be up early in the morning.
In any case, I decided to get up and get in my walk a little earlier than usual. However, I noticed that it looked pretty wet outside, with the threat of becoming even wetter looming in the heavy, gray clouds, and the forecast supported my suspicion, so I decided that I would take opportunity to work on my novel, as I only managed to write a couple hundred words yesterday.
That idea was soon thrown out the window, and I decided that I was still tired and deserved to be able to just waste a day after all the writing I did on Monday and taking the class yesterday, so I went back to bed.
Several weird dreams – including one in which I had broken my PDA – and a couple of hours later I woke up to discover that it had turned into the kind of day that was pretty much the exact opposite of what the forecast had called for and what the morning had promised, so, to avoid having to sit down and write, I decided to take advantage of the meteorological misprognostication and went for a walk.
Shortly after I got home, again, in an effort to avoid writing, I decided to walk over to Safeway to pick up some kind of dinner.
While I was in line I noticed that a guy ahead of me was buying flowers, two bottles of champagne…and a can of Reddi-wip.
Gee, I wonder what kind of plans he had for evening...
At the very least, I hope there was actually someone waiting for him at home and that he wasn’t buying these things for his own amusement.
The whole thing reminded me of a time when Eric and his then-wife Sally were attempting one of several reconciliations, and Sally had moved into the house I was sharing with Eric and another person. When they would get home from work, the two of them (Eric and Sally) would disappear into their bedroom for several hours. One day, Sally had brought home strawberries and, eventually, mashed them up for strawberry shortcake, which would be topped by the Reddi-wip she’d also brought home.
She later complained about how no one seemed to be using the mashed strawberries or the Reddi-wip, to which I responded that I’d had a piece of strawberry shortcake and had, in fact, used the Reddi-wip to top it.
At that point, Eric and Sally shared a nervous, conspiratorial glance, and Eric asked, cautiously, “Which can of Reddi-wip did you use?”
It was at that point that I realized that the strawberries and Reddi-wip had made a detour to the bedroom before finding their way into the refrigerator.
It was probably also at that point that I decided that once I was on my own again I would never, ever live with roommates.
In any case, my skillful avoidance of writing today has put me about 5,000+ words behind where I should be at this point.
Here’s hoping I’m a little more prolific tomorrow.
I’m still not certain if, like last year’s, this novel is going to be a simple exercise, something I’ve written just for the sake of participating. In conceiving of it, I had wanted to make it into something suitable for seeking publication, or at least worth posting to the Web in a much more polished form than last year’s end product.
Now I’m not so sure I even want to write it at all, so I think it’s going to be a throwaway exercise; assuming I even finish it.
Monday’s experience with “Stone Face” led me to become even more fully convinced that, in addition to having the ability to make my car’s “Check Engine” light come on (which seems to have faded), and to predict which syndicated episode of “The Simpsons” will be on (it usually manifests in the form of me thinking of a line from a particular episode at some point in the day, and then discovering that the episode that the line was from is on later that day), I have the ability to get women married.
I’m sort of an unintentional Cupid: if I’m even slightly attracted to a woman, to the point that I might consider asking her out, it’s pretty much guaranteed that within two years she will be married and/or have a kid.
To date, my unintenional matchmaking has yielded some pretty impressive results: so far as I know, every woman I’ve had more than a passing interest in over the past ten years has gotten married.
This power of mine is so strong, in fact, that I’ve even managed to make a woman who swore she would never get married settle into a life of domestic bliss as a missus and a mom.
Hell, I even managed to help my wife land herself a new husband and two kids.
If I didn’t know that it would crap out on me if I tried it, I’d consider trying to sell my services.
I could be “Jon: The Unwitting, Unwilling, and Unintentional Matchmaker,” or better yet, “Jon: The Stupid Cupid.”
I can just see the ad campaign.
“Ladies, is your biological clock ticking? Are you looking for Mr. Right or even just trying to get a ring on your finger from Mr. Right Now? Well, look no further than Jon!
“But wait, don’t run! We aren’t suggesting that you get involved with Jon. Heaven forbid! After all, we know that no one’s situation is that desperate.
“No, all you have to do is catch Jon’s eye and let his patented ‘Stupid Cupid’ system take care of the rest.
“There are only three simple steps:
1. Talk to Jon, demonstrating that you have at least half a brain.
2. Flirt with him a little (It doesn’t take much! Just touch your hair a little and flash him a smile: he’s just that desperate!)
3. Watch him fall hard and fast for you and wait for the universe to fuck him over once again!
“It’s just that easy! Once you have his interest, men will come crawling out of the woodwork! Suddenly your boyfriend will want to take things to the next level! Your pee test will come back positive! And the guys you weren’t willing to settle for before will seem so much more attractive now that you’ve found out what it’s like to have Jon interested in you!
“Satisfaction guaranteed. Void where prohibited by law.”
I could even do an infomercial with testimonials from satisfied customers.
“I had totally given up hope of ever meeting the person I wanted to spend my life with. Then I met Jon and everything changed. Suddenly, once I saw him starting to build up the courage to ask me out, all of the frogs around me began looking like princes in comparison! Jon’s ‘Stupid Cupid’ system changed my life! I’m so glad that I considered going out with Jon…and then decided not to!”
Of course, if I did try to market this ability it would fade as rapidly as my “Check Engine” power (which is probably going to return now).
Anyway, I guess I’ve wasted enough time that could have been spent working on my novel...
At around midnight I opted to go through one last channel surf before calling it quits and stumbled across “Bade: Trinity.”
I wasn’t going to watch it, figuring that I could either set the DVR to record it, or catch it during some other airing.
Not that I had any particular interest in watching it; I just figured I might as well do so at some point, given that I’d seen the other two.
Still, as I sat there feeling too tired to get up and go to bed, I found myself resolving to see how one particular scene was going to play out, and before I knew it I was halfway through the movie, and though I wasn’t actually enjoying it, having invested that much time in I figured I might as well see it through to the end.
Once it was (mercifully) over, I made my way to bed and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I woke up a bit after 8 and considered getting up, even though I’d only gotten about six hours of sleep, but decided against it. However, before I could manage to drift back to sleep the garbage truck arrived and proceeded to spend fifteen minutes getting into position, which involved a lot of backing up (and therefore a lot of beeping), followed by about five minutes of picking the dumpster up, putting it back down, and shaking it like a kid shaking the Christmas presents he’s found hidden in his parents’ closet.
Albeit briefly, I actually was a garbageman at one point in my life, so I know for a fact that it really isn’t necessary to devote that much time – and noise – to simply emptying a dumpster. These people are clearly just fucking with all of the people of the world who don’t have to be up early in the morning.
In any case, I decided to get up and get in my walk a little earlier than usual. However, I noticed that it looked pretty wet outside, with the threat of becoming even wetter looming in the heavy, gray clouds, and the forecast supported my suspicion, so I decided that I would take opportunity to work on my novel, as I only managed to write a couple hundred words yesterday.
That idea was soon thrown out the window, and I decided that I was still tired and deserved to be able to just waste a day after all the writing I did on Monday and taking the class yesterday, so I went back to bed.
Several weird dreams – including one in which I had broken my PDA – and a couple of hours later I woke up to discover that it had turned into the kind of day that was pretty much the exact opposite of what the forecast had called for and what the morning had promised, so, to avoid having to sit down and write, I decided to take advantage of the meteorological misprognostication and went for a walk.
Shortly after I got home, again, in an effort to avoid writing, I decided to walk over to Safeway to pick up some kind of dinner.
While I was in line I noticed that a guy ahead of me was buying flowers, two bottles of champagne…and a can of Reddi-wip.
Gee, I wonder what kind of plans he had for evening...
At the very least, I hope there was actually someone waiting for him at home and that he wasn’t buying these things for his own amusement.
The whole thing reminded me of a time when Eric and his then-wife Sally were attempting one of several reconciliations, and Sally had moved into the house I was sharing with Eric and another person. When they would get home from work, the two of them (Eric and Sally) would disappear into their bedroom for several hours. One day, Sally had brought home strawberries and, eventually, mashed them up for strawberry shortcake, which would be topped by the Reddi-wip she’d also brought home.
She later complained about how no one seemed to be using the mashed strawberries or the Reddi-wip, to which I responded that I’d had a piece of strawberry shortcake and had, in fact, used the Reddi-wip to top it.
At that point, Eric and Sally shared a nervous, conspiratorial glance, and Eric asked, cautiously, “Which can of Reddi-wip did you use?”
It was at that point that I realized that the strawberries and Reddi-wip had made a detour to the bedroom before finding their way into the refrigerator.
It was probably also at that point that I decided that once I was on my own again I would never, ever live with roommates.
In any case, my skillful avoidance of writing today has put me about 5,000+ words behind where I should be at this point.
Here’s hoping I’m a little more prolific tomorrow.
I’m still not certain if, like last year’s, this novel is going to be a simple exercise, something I’ve written just for the sake of participating. In conceiving of it, I had wanted to make it into something suitable for seeking publication, or at least worth posting to the Web in a much more polished form than last year’s end product.
Now I’m not so sure I even want to write it at all, so I think it’s going to be a throwaway exercise; assuming I even finish it.
Monday’s experience with “Stone Face” led me to become even more fully convinced that, in addition to having the ability to make my car’s “Check Engine” light come on (which seems to have faded), and to predict which syndicated episode of “The Simpsons” will be on (it usually manifests in the form of me thinking of a line from a particular episode at some point in the day, and then discovering that the episode that the line was from is on later that day), I have the ability to get women married.
I’m sort of an unintentional Cupid: if I’m even slightly attracted to a woman, to the point that I might consider asking her out, it’s pretty much guaranteed that within two years she will be married and/or have a kid.
To date, my unintenional matchmaking has yielded some pretty impressive results: so far as I know, every woman I’ve had more than a passing interest in over the past ten years has gotten married.
This power of mine is so strong, in fact, that I’ve even managed to make a woman who swore she would never get married settle into a life of domestic bliss as a missus and a mom.
Hell, I even managed to help my wife land herself a new husband and two kids.
If I didn’t know that it would crap out on me if I tried it, I’d consider trying to sell my services.
I could be “Jon: The Unwitting, Unwilling, and Unintentional Matchmaker,” or better yet, “Jon: The Stupid Cupid.”
I can just see the ad campaign.
“Ladies, is your biological clock ticking? Are you looking for Mr. Right or even just trying to get a ring on your finger from Mr. Right Now? Well, look no further than Jon!
“But wait, don’t run! We aren’t suggesting that you get involved with Jon. Heaven forbid! After all, we know that no one’s situation is that desperate.
“No, all you have to do is catch Jon’s eye and let his patented ‘Stupid Cupid’ system take care of the rest.
“There are only three simple steps:
1. Talk to Jon, demonstrating that you have at least half a brain.
2. Flirt with him a little (It doesn’t take much! Just touch your hair a little and flash him a smile: he’s just that desperate!)
3. Watch him fall hard and fast for you and wait for the universe to fuck him over once again!
“It’s just that easy! Once you have his interest, men will come crawling out of the woodwork! Suddenly your boyfriend will want to take things to the next level! Your pee test will come back positive! And the guys you weren’t willing to settle for before will seem so much more attractive now that you’ve found out what it’s like to have Jon interested in you!
“Satisfaction guaranteed. Void where prohibited by law.”
I could even do an infomercial with testimonials from satisfied customers.
“I had totally given up hope of ever meeting the person I wanted to spend my life with. Then I met Jon and everything changed. Suddenly, once I saw him starting to build up the courage to ask me out, all of the frogs around me began looking like princes in comparison! Jon’s ‘Stupid Cupid’ system changed my life! I’m so glad that I considered going out with Jon…and then decided not to!”
Of course, if I did try to market this ability it would fade as rapidly as my “Check Engine” power (which is probably going to return now).
Anyway, I guess I’ve wasted enough time that could have been spent working on my novel...
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Excel-sior!
Today finds me at HQ taking an intro class to Microsoft Excel.
There are three additional levels of classes that I will likely take somewhere along the line, along with some other classes on the various Microsoft Office products.
As with any training, I'm doing it not only to increase my skillset, but also to increase my bank account, as training classes are an easy way to rack up OT.
The extra bonus for me this time is that, as fate would have it, this class is scheduled at the same time as an all-day departmental "all hands" meeting.
I would have gotten OT for that, too, but it would have been a thousand times more boring than this class (which is itself pretty boring). In addition to having to spend the day listening to a bunch of executives talk about things that only have, at best, a peripheray effect on me, I would have had to put up with some kind of irritating "team-building" exercise that involved learning to work with people whom I don't actually have to work with in my regular job, and in fact, will likely never see again.
So it worked out well that this class, which I signed up for before I knew about the meeting, happened on the same day, allowing me to avoid the boredom of the meeting without having to lose the OT.
As I write this I'm on my lunch break. Ordinarily I'd meet with Kathleen for lunch, but she's off today, as she and Brian are involved in the funeral of a fire fighter from their fire company who recently passed on.
So that means I'm left to my own devices for an hour, and it doesn't take me that long to eat a slice of default pizza (I call it "default pizza," as it's the food item I usually default to at the HQ cafeteria when nothing else looks appealing).
Yesterday I did some serious work on my NaNoWriMo novel, making up the 1,000 word deficit, and bringing my total to a full ten words beyond where I should be (which puts me at 11,118 words, for those keeping track).
I have a feeling, though, that I'll be less prolific when I get home tonight and will end up falling behind once again.
Of course, the real question isn't so much whether or not I'll hit the 50,000 word mark by the end of the month, but whether or not I'll actually finish the story I want to tell. I think the answer to the word count question is a definite yes, but the other question is much more up in the air. 50,000 words probably isn't enough to tell it, and I don't think I have it in me to crank out as many words as it actually would take in the time allotted. At the very least, though, I would like to top last year's word count (which I don't remember off the top of my head).
Yesterday I ventured out into the world to get a haircut, as I'd been getting pretty shaggy, and wanted to look a little better on the off-chance that there'd be some hotties in the class today (For the record, there aren't. Well, not exactly. There is one hot-ish woman in the class, someone who used to work in the same area that I did - who has a HUGE rack - but she's married, so she doesn't count).
Because I was in the area, after getting my haircut I decided to pop into my optometrist's office and pick up a new supply of cleaning solution for my contacts.
I was surprised to see that the oft-mentioned "Stone Face," the woman that I attempted to date nearly two years ago, was actually working. For the past year and a half I haven't encountered her during any of my visits to the optometrist and had suspected that she'd moved away.
Though my last attempt at trying to kindle a romance with her ended in her telling me, though she clearly recognized me, that I had "the wrong number"and hanging up on me, she seemed pleased (as far as I could tell, at least) to see me, and was fairly friendly.
We didn't get much of a chance to talk, though, as it was pretty busy, and most of the time I was there she was on the phone.
Of course, while I didn't get a very clear look at it, there appeared to be a ring on her finger, so if I had any hopes of picking things up again (Which I didn't...well, not really. I mean, it's sort of hard not to have some amount of hope, as I do find her extremely attractive, and I am pretty desperately lonely.) were pretty effectively dashed at that point.
Ah well.
In any case, I should probably get in one last trip to the bathroom before class resumes.
There are three additional levels of classes that I will likely take somewhere along the line, along with some other classes on the various Microsoft Office products.
As with any training, I'm doing it not only to increase my skillset, but also to increase my bank account, as training classes are an easy way to rack up OT.
The extra bonus for me this time is that, as fate would have it, this class is scheduled at the same time as an all-day departmental "all hands" meeting.
I would have gotten OT for that, too, but it would have been a thousand times more boring than this class (which is itself pretty boring). In addition to having to spend the day listening to a bunch of executives talk about things that only have, at best, a peripheray effect on me, I would have had to put up with some kind of irritating "team-building" exercise that involved learning to work with people whom I don't actually have to work with in my regular job, and in fact, will likely never see again.
So it worked out well that this class, which I signed up for before I knew about the meeting, happened on the same day, allowing me to avoid the boredom of the meeting without having to lose the OT.
As I write this I'm on my lunch break. Ordinarily I'd meet with Kathleen for lunch, but she's off today, as she and Brian are involved in the funeral of a fire fighter from their fire company who recently passed on.
So that means I'm left to my own devices for an hour, and it doesn't take me that long to eat a slice of default pizza (I call it "default pizza," as it's the food item I usually default to at the HQ cafeteria when nothing else looks appealing).
Yesterday I did some serious work on my NaNoWriMo novel, making up the 1,000 word deficit, and bringing my total to a full ten words beyond where I should be (which puts me at 11,118 words, for those keeping track).
I have a feeling, though, that I'll be less prolific when I get home tonight and will end up falling behind once again.
Of course, the real question isn't so much whether or not I'll hit the 50,000 word mark by the end of the month, but whether or not I'll actually finish the story I want to tell. I think the answer to the word count question is a definite yes, but the other question is much more up in the air. 50,000 words probably isn't enough to tell it, and I don't think I have it in me to crank out as many words as it actually would take in the time allotted. At the very least, though, I would like to top last year's word count (which I don't remember off the top of my head).
Yesterday I ventured out into the world to get a haircut, as I'd been getting pretty shaggy, and wanted to look a little better on the off-chance that there'd be some hotties in the class today (For the record, there aren't. Well, not exactly. There is one hot-ish woman in the class, someone who used to work in the same area that I did - who has a HUGE rack - but she's married, so she doesn't count).
Because I was in the area, after getting my haircut I decided to pop into my optometrist's office and pick up a new supply of cleaning solution for my contacts.
I was surprised to see that the oft-mentioned "Stone Face," the woman that I attempted to date nearly two years ago, was actually working. For the past year and a half I haven't encountered her during any of my visits to the optometrist and had suspected that she'd moved away.
Though my last attempt at trying to kindle a romance with her ended in her telling me, though she clearly recognized me, that I had "the wrong number"and hanging up on me, she seemed pleased (as far as I could tell, at least) to see me, and was fairly friendly.
We didn't get much of a chance to talk, though, as it was pretty busy, and most of the time I was there she was on the phone.
Of course, while I didn't get a very clear look at it, there appeared to be a ring on her finger, so if I had any hopes of picking things up again (Which I didn't...well, not really. I mean, it's sort of hard not to have some amount of hope, as I do find her extremely attractive, and I am pretty desperately lonely.) were pretty effectively dashed at that point.
Ah well.
In any case, I should probably get in one last trip to the bathroom before class resumes.
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