Kaymyth

Oo! Oo! Pick me!

But I've seen your English improve by leaps and bounds since you joined. Just keep working at it!

There are actually a lot of songs like that, where people come up with deep meanings and the artists say, "Um, no, I was just really, really high when I wrote that thing..." Which personally I find hilarious. Now I need to go to bed, so I'm going to drop a music video for a song that has absolutely no lyrics at all. But the imagery is really awesome and some of the pieces make me think of Mistborn steeljumps.

I actually wasn't being sarcastic. I was always good at word problems. The thing about poems is that there's always a story hiding in between the lines; that's what people are talking about when they say a poem has "depth". Of course, there's also a lot of vague wording involved so different people can wind up pulling totally different meanings out of exactly the same set of words. I can see how that would be agonizing for someone with a highly logical brain. I do prefer music to spoken poetry. I'm one of those awful people who sings to the radio in her car.

Nice one; I had another person hit me back with that one on St. Pat's. There's actually another calc limerick out there somewhere, but I'm too tired to go looking for it now. Too many words for math? Say it ain't so! What about those perfect glories of mathematical learning - word problems? Ironically, my actual job is a lot easier than teaching, and at this point pays more than I could have expected to be making. But there's a big difference between teaching college and teaching elementary. The latter would have required a level of "on" for me that would have eventually squeezed my poor little introvert soul dry.

Gods, yes. It never ceases to amaze me the sheer critical mass of childishness extant in Corporate America. It probably will someday, and on that day I will be the most jaded creature to walk the earth.

Yeh, well, it was a long time ago. I got better. I eventually got my degree in elementary education, and now I work for [Redacted], Inc. Nothing to do with teaching, though sometimes I think certain clients need to go back to grade school.

I think that if you look at everything objectively, you will find that Australia is much more dangerous than Roshar.

Very crazy. It's been 20 years since I graduated HS, and I'm still kind of bitter. Heh. It probably helps if the student taking calc hasn't just had a major emotional upheaval sending her into a period of mild depression, coupled with the fact that at that point, she had absolutely no idea how to study.

I maintain that I would have done better and gotten farther in college calc had my high school actually gone up that far in math. I wasn't even allowed to take algebra in junior high. Not for any problems on my part, but because they "didn't offer it: at that level. Stupid tiny rural school.

Admittedly, it does take a teensy bit of fudging to make the rhythm work on the last line, but here's the translation: The integral dee squared dee zee From one to the cubed root of three Times the cosine Of three pi over nine Is the log of the cubed root of e Congratulations. You have now seen exactly everything I remember from college calculus.

Hee. But limericks are more like the candy of the poetry world. Very simple sugars and easy to gulp down way more than is healthy. So here it is anyway: I hit poor Mi'ch with that, and I swear I could hear her blinking at her screen as she typed the response of, "You should've sent that to Chaos."

I definitely PM'd the wrong Admin that calculus limerick on St. Pat's.

Oh, well, today just got worse. OK, so we moved last year, but we still have ownership of the old house. It had a lot of work that needed done on it before it was ready to go on the market, much of which is MUCH easier to handle without anyone living in it. Since we paid off that house way early, there was no longer a mortgage on it, so we were able to afford these sorts of shenanigans. The foundation just got fixed, and now we're looking at getting the rest of the improvements done. The estimate came back from the first general contractor. It's...a lot more than we were expecting. And of course they didn't give us a job-by-job breakdown, so we can't do stuff like prioritize and figure out what we could probably do ourselves and know how much that'd knock off the price. Nor can we know how much the pricing might be off on a particular piece, so it's hard to just go out and do research to figure out if they're trying to rip us off without another quote on the whole dang thing. And now on the selfish front, I am already grouchy and hormonal and was REALLY looking forward to just slinking off home and getting coddled. Only now James is going to be in a horrid mood, too, and I'd feel like a total heel trying to demand that level of attention from him. EDIT: OK, James was not nearly as grouchy as I expected, so I got lots of soothing snuggles when I got home. That helped. And we're asking for a breakdown of the estimate of doom, and are gathering other companies to get estimates from. So we will figure this out. I am still highly suspicious of a company that gives you an estimate for work that needs doing without an itemized breakdown on that paperwork.

Ugh. Neck hurts. Other...bits also ache. I want to curl up someplace comfy and snarl at anyone who isn't bearing snuggles or chocolate. And I'm picky about who the snuggles come from.

You are not a brat, you are overworked. Like Twi said, people can't work that long with no breaks without starting to implode. *hugs*

Actually, the original intent of minimum wage IS supposed to be a living wage. That's what it was designed for. It just hasn't increased relative to inflation for so long that it's gotten rather pitiful. Though personally, I think it'd be much more effective solution to cap CEO wages in relation to their lowest-paid employees. You want to pay yourself millions of dollars a year? Great, but you can't be making more than so many times what they do (bonuses included).

I know the answer, but am reluctant to say it because I haven't actually seen said show. Somehow taking a win on something I've never watched seems like cheating.

We had the in-laws over on Sunday for Easterthings. I hid eggs for the niecelings. In addition to the three dozen chocolate-filled eggs, I hid brussels sprouts in two of them. Because I'm that aunt. The joke was on me. Older Niece ascertained that the prize was, indeed, a brussels sprout and then proceeded to start happily munching away on it. Yes, she's seven years old. Yes, it was raw. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised; this is the same kid who asked for a can of cranberry sauce a couple of Christmases ago and was excited when she got it. Younger Niece (who is five) just shot me a look that clearly said, "I am unimpressed by your shenanigans" and calmly handed hers to me without a word.

Never before was so much board rep coalesced into one geographical area....

Good visit with the King of Kobolds, then?

Around these parts, "cookies" is a code word for "Hemalurgical spikes". Don't eat them, you'll break a tooth. And Wayne is the best. Though his particular brand of humor isn't for everyone, I admit. Hush, you. (Really, this is the first big crush on a fictional character I've had in years. The last one was Harper on Andromeda. ...yes, I have a type.)

Welcome! Don't take the cookies. They have a distressing tendency to staple bits of other peoples' spiritwebs to yours. They're kind of poky. How much non-Stormlight Sanderson have you read? There's a ton out there, and I highly recommend Mistborn. Especially the Era 2 stuff. But that's totally not because I have a ridiculous crush on Wayne or anything...

Hee. It really was. She was astonished that it could fling that far. But more funny was the time when one of my cube neighbors managed to create a temporary geyser of soda. See, he had put his bottle of Mt. Dew into the refrigerator to keep it cold. Unbeknownst to him, it was turned down too cold and his drink started to freeze. By the time he retrieved it, it was a mix of slush and drink. As he described it to me later, he had started to untwist the cap and had just enough time to realize that something was horribly wrong when the cap was flung up into the air by a burst of pressurized carbonated beverage. It showered him, me, and everyone else around us with Mt. Dew. He even had to call the maintenance guy to mop it off of the ceiling.

Axe is death. (No, really. That stuff triggers my asthma. It's awful.)