!

he likes me

blushing

Ahh, I like having someone to like, especially when that someone presumably likes me back. Katie said she called him when she couldn't find me and got worried, and that he got worried in turn. Granted, I'm sorry to make him worry, but I'm flattered that he cares enough to be concerned. Katie said he even offered to come over to my place, to see if I had just fallen asleep.

I can't wait for class tomorrow, when I get to sit next to him for a couple hours.

My First Drabble

What's a drabble? It's a short piece of writing of exactly 100 words. Here's my first shot at it:


My desk lamp is looking at me sideways. My chair judges my weight behind my back. My computer takes quiet note of the words as I type them.

My socks cling to my feet, hugging all the improbable curves. My pants are less intimate, hanging indifferently from my hips.

My pencils lie in wait in the drawer, ready, ever ready, and waiting.

My speakers stand guard against silence, merciless sentinels that they are.

My mouse lounges by my hand. Maybe it’s asleep. I bet if I listen carefully, I can hear snoring.

But the damn lamp keeps looking at me.

I'm not done, yet

I miss the days when I used to write. My journal entries used to be long and thoughtful, and eloquent, if I do say so myself. But then I became a Scientist. Now writing is dry, consise and to the point, space-saving, time-saving, devoid of personality and finesse.

Yet one of my good friends fawned over my writing, and used a phrase I'd not heard before: that I was nerve and bone a writer, or something to that effect. I was touched. Still am.

I do not want to lose my writing chops. My precious mad skillz. But who has the time? And what a lame excuse that is.

Fine, I can find the time. Like now. I should be reading two articles for discussion tomorrow morning, but instead I'm here. But what can I write about? Pipetting? Perpetual statistical insignificance? It seems that nothing noteworthy happens, or not much, or not enough. And what authority do I have to write about things everyone knows?

What do I know that you don't know? What can I tell you?

Conundrum

My sister has her senior recital on Sunday. But the guy I like has invited me to a movie.

Penguin Haiku

penguins really fly
they just don't want you to know
they surprise their prey

I can't take credit for this one, but I thought I'd share it anyway.

Note to my future self

Assuming that I become a professor:

When writing exam questions: be clear what you mean to ask in each question. Do not penalize if students fail to read your mind.