We finally watched Buffy Season 7 this weekend (and I do mean we watched it all between Saturday afternoon and Sunday evening–I felt slightly motion sick by the time we were done) and I have to admit that I came away feeling a little disappointed. Although I was pleased with the ending, I just didn’t feel that Season 7 was anywhere near as good as previous seasons, and I also had a problem with some of the things that happened–they just seemed inconsistent. (i.e. Buffy continually protects Spike, but has to kill Anya without giving her a chance.)

But besides that, we enjoyed it, and now we have Angel, seasons 1 through 3 to watch over Christmas break. (I’m hoping that it is, at least for most of it, episodic, so we don’t have those fits where we HAVE to watch six straight episodes to find out what happend. And it’s not just Buffy that did that: Deep Space Nine did the same thing at the start of Season 6 and the end of Season 7. Once you start watching you can’t quit until it’s resolved.

Unless of course you’re one of those freaks that likes suspense and waiting.

And I was really bothered by one thing: Why would you have to get your driver’s license renewed in California every year after losing an eye? There’s no such regulation here in West (by God) Virginia. At least for people who are blind in one eye, and I don’t see why there would be a difference between the two. Some I’m rather curious as to whether that is a real rule, or just something they made up. Because I can’t see any reason for that to be a rule. (And I do have a reason for saying this–I have a family member who is blind in one eye, so I really don’t understand why there would be such a regulation. But then I suppose California is weird like that.)

(Thanks Erin!)

Here’s something for Morgantownies.

Go to this Health Sciences page.

Click on the link that says Photo Tour.

Scroll through the pictures and look for the picture “Medical Center 1960”

Figure out what’s wrong?

You’d think they’d have been able to find a picture from the 1960s instead of using one that is pretty obviously from the late 70s early 80s.

The word of the year.

The Word of the Day was absinthe.

absinthe \AB-sinth\ noun
1 : wormwood; especially : a common European wormwood
(Artemisia absinthium)
2 : a green liqueur which is flavored with wormwood, anise,
and other aromatic herbs and commercial production of which is
banned in many countries for health concerns

Around here we’ve had long discussions about absinthe–it seems to come up once a year or so, and for the most part the discussion is “who would want to drink something that tastes like licorice?” Not me, as I find anise repulsive. But that doesn’t make the subject any less fascinating.

Plus, there are things like this:
The Alarming Effects of Absinthe on Guinea Pigs

I love Neil Gaiman’s weblog.

Hello Neil! Seeing as X-mas soon is here, I was wondering how you told your children that there is no real living Santa Claus. Did you tell them as soon as they popped the question? Same thing with the easterbunny and different types of man-made “stories” :) Much appreciated if you answer this, I know you are busy.
Thanks from a big fan in Sweden, Fredrik Josefsson.

My children have, on occasion, strongly suggested that there might not be a Father Christmas. They also seem very doubtful about the existence of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and the Weird Knife Lady In The Attic. I humour them by pretending to go along with all this, but I keep my own counsel on the matter.

While walking this morning I was thinking about the power that words have. And how I have never been able to use my powers for good.

The first time I noticed the power of words was when I pulled a tornado out of the clear blue sky.

We were driving through Kansas, the first visit for me. Coming from hilly West (by God) Virginia, I was amazed by the expanse of sky and the horizon that seemed to go on forever.

My comment was something like, “I can’t believe how much sky there is! Thunderstorms must be incredible out here!”

The sky immediately darkened, and within a short time the first drops of rain were falling. We turned on the radio only to hear a tornado warning.

Usually, though, what usually happens is I’ll say something like, “wouldn’t it really suck if such and such a bad thing happened?” At which point said bad thing immediately occurs.

I think I inherited this power from my mother. I have a clear memory of pulling up in front of my aunt’s house, and my mom telling my father, “be careful! You’re going to hit the curb and we’ll get a flat!” I don’t have to tell you what immediately happened, do I? The strange part, however, is that I can not ever remember my dad hitting the curb when parking. Ever. It was as if her words drew the car towards the curb and flattened the tire.

So I’m careful now with what I say. Often I’ll start a sentence and then slap my hand over my mouth to keep the words from escaping.

But I still try to use my powers for good. Hoping that one day it’ll take.

Wouldn’t it be great if I found a million dollars?

E is for our Empire
Where the sun never sets
The larger we make it
The bigger it gets

Just an astounding number of posters on everything from Cubans Welcome US Troops to “A Maid and a Million Men” to Is your washroom breeding bolsheviks?

G is the Game
We preserve with such care
To shoot, as it gracefully
Flies through the air

Thanks Bob!

I give my presentation for my Legal/Ethical Issues in Public Health today.

20 minutes for 35 slides.

Good think I talk fast.

It’s not like I didn’t try to pare things down, it’s just that there’s a lot of information that I needed to cover, and there was really very little that I could leave out. For every two slides I cut I realized there was another I needed to insert to meet the presentation requirements.

Let’s hope it goes well.

Then all I should have left is a 10 to 15 page paper on the same topic. Piece of cake. My difficulty will be in keeping it under 15 pages.

I had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and although the appointment didn’t last as long as expected, I went home anyway. Along my route home is a McDonald’s. It’s set a bit back from the road, with the parking lot out front. It’s really a terrible location for pulling in and out of traffic, but they get a lot of walk ups, as it’s located between two dorm complexes. Usually there is so much traffic that I don’t even notice the place as I drive by. But today there were no oncoming cars, so I had an unobstructed view of the store and its parking lot.

The lot was mostly empty, so it was hard not to notice the old man leaning up against his car, eating a hamburger. He was especially noteworthy because he looked like the kind of old man you always expect to see in West Virginia, but never quite do: John Deere cap, old t-shirt under an even older flannel shirt, beat-up work pants, and scuffed boots. The car was one of those old Ford Escorts you see everywhere around here, with the red paint gone dull, and rust coming through in spots. The driver’s side window was open, and through it I could see a woman.

She looked not like the stereotypical old woman, but instead was the woman you always see at Wal Mart. Straight brown hair in a large barrette on the top of her head, and then pulled back into a pony tail. A pink shirt was all I could see of her clothes—that hot pink color that no woman her size should wear. She was sitting in the passenger seat, eating her meal, staring straight through the windshield, while the man leaned against the back door, staring out at traffic.

It was a strange sight, the two of them eating like that.

Was it an argument that drove him out of the car, unwilling to remain one second more than necessary in the car with his daughter? Or were they husband and wife, on a long trip, stopping only to get a quick bite to eat. He had to get out of the car to stretch his legs, even if just for a bit, but she was tired and wanted only to eat and get back on the road?

Then they were gone and I couldn’t have seen them in my rearview mirror even if I’d looked.

For the curious, here’s what I’m listening to this week when I exercise.

There’d be even more Bob Mould, except that I no longer have any Husker Du albums. I’d thought about just listening to “Black Sheets of Rain” or “File Under Easy Listening” but decided I wanted some variety.
(more…)

Holy Cow!

I don’t understand how I, coming from a family of people who can’t spell, managed this:

“I’m feeling flabby and unattractive this evening.”
“Well you don’t look flabby and unattractive.”
“That may be so, but I feel flabby and unattractive.”
“What are you going to trust, how you feel or what I see?”
“Did you know you’re wearing two different color socks?”

Anyone interested in buying a WV school? There’s one up for sale on E-Bay.

(via S)