What started out as a seemingly easy semester has turned into the Incredible Semester of Big Projects Assigned Two Weeks Before Exams. Hence the lack of regular writing. I apologize to my faithful readers but trust that they understand that though schoolwork isn't necessarily more important to me, I realize that it should be and strive to make it seem so. If you would like to see more writing, I encourage you to write a paper on cache replacement policies and also a socket server program. Thanks.
While I'm here and typing, I might as well write a few things of interest.
I waited on Bob Timberlake a couple of weeks ago. However, I neglected the golden opportunity of looking at his signature on the credit card slip to see if it matched the signature on his company logo. I could have totally exposed him as a fraud. A little Bob Timberlake trivia for all you big fans out there: he ordered a turkey reuben with a seabreeze, and his wife had a salad with water. They tip in the 20% range. I was a little disappointed. I think if I were a millionaire and my waitress had been oh, so charming, I would have left her a couple grand. The busboy found a quarter in his seat after he left and said excitedly, "I've got Bob Timberlake's quarter!" It's the little things that make a body happy.
It's freaking cold in Boone. The Sandra signs of impending winter have occurred. (1) I wore my big wool coat to class. (2) I wore my polyester winter work shirt to work today. (3) I turned on the heat in my room.
These are important signs, the last one especially. I'm too cheap to turn on the heat unless there is a real danger of hypothermia. Last winter, I resisted until I found myself typing in gloves, and you really get no speed or accuracy that way. Plus, it was just a bit pathetic. I'm not poor. I'm glad to start wearing the winter work shirt. I wish I could wear it all year long, but it's 100% polyester, straight from the 70s. I could serve food off of the collar. The best thing about it is that I can take it off, throw it on the floor, stomp on it all week long and still pick it up to wear the next weekend without a trace of a wrinkle. Not that I do that to my clothes.
I'll close with a little story.
A friend and fellow CS major came over last week to work on a program. I was not expecting him, so my room was only moderately clean, and this is in my loose standards. We had to look at something on the computer, so he came into my room and started looking around. After a few seconds, he enthusiastically told me I had a great room. I asked him what he meant, because, well, it's just a room. The guy, who is a total hippie and just kind of a funny guy in general, said, "It's cool that everything doesn't have to be in its place." So, he was genuinely complimenting me on the fact that my room was messy.
See, Mama, it's not messy, just free-sprited.
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