I’m mildly disappointed that the Fifth Cylon was neither Tom Zarek nor Kara’s Mystery Raptor. However, I am amused that even Leoben is weirded out by the latest developments.
I watched the inauguration at work, on a tiny black-and-white TV with an intermittent roll that someone had set up on top of one of the mini-fridges in the lounge.
Did pretty well in this week’sljdq, getting quoted in four out of six. (I’m particularly proud of “Aragon v. Hester Prynn: Cage Match!”) However, my proudest quiz moment remains my very first.
Friday was spent proofreading with I——, which I hadn’t done for months. She’s annoying. Some of it she can’t help: the bad breath and the croak in her voice is probably caused by her acid reflux; I’m guessing there’s some family issue behind the frequent interruptions as she answers her phone, or gets up to see if it is her phone that is ringing; her tendency to rush through sentences, pause for breath in the middle of phrases, and raise or lower her voice seemingly at random...well, just because someone is being paid to read aloud doesn’t guarantee that she’ll be good at it. But then there’s the tendency to not listen, and not just while proofreading but in general. For example: we wound up sitting at the northeast table, which was bathed in the full glare of the sun shining off the East River. “Do you mind if I sit with my back to the window? I don’t want the sun in my eyes,” I said. “Oh, I love the light! You do whatever you want,” she replied — as she took the seat I had just asked for.
I did not make it to Shanghai Mermaid tonight, because it turns out that the venue, Galapagos, has moved since I was last there. This is why it never hurts to double-check little details, like the address. Fortunately, I never got around to buying an advance ticket so all the evening cost me was a half hour or so walking up and down North 6th Street with the cold settling into my marrow. Thank goodness for instant ginseng tea.