February 20th, 2008

LIGHTNING from my FINGERS!

Sure, Why Not?

kagur tagged me thusly:

A. List seven habits/quirks/facts about yourself.
B. Tag seven people to do the same.
C. Do not tag the person who tagged you or say that you tag "whoever wants to do it"

So here we go...

  1. My hands and feet are disproportionately small compared to my height due to a genetic condition known as "Scrivener's Palsy." It also makes my handwriting very slow, and my drawing even slower.


  2. One of my proudest moments was getting Harlan Ellison to crack up.


  3. I am very good at conceptual math (such as geometry), but terrible at arithmetic (i.e., number-crunching). However, I failed at Trigonometry in college because VCU had such a terrible math program at the time, and never went any further. (I don't know if the VCU math program ever shaped up.)


  4. My signature fedora was inspired by Indiana Jones' gray "dress hat" in Raiders of the Lost Ark (as opposed to the brown crushable that he usually wears). I have had several over the years, and gave the one I had before my current one to mammallamadevil when it "retired."


  5. I like black jellybeans and black licorice.


  6. My father was 45 years old when I was born, and my mother was 39. I am 12 years younger than my brother, and 15 years younger than my sister.


  7. The Robey coat of arms is a red stag on a yellow field. The name "Robey" derives from "Roebuck."


Lessee ... tag seven people, eh? Okay, I tag Gilligan, the Skipper too, the millionaire and his wife, the movie star, the Professor and Mary Ann.

Didn't say they had to be real people. ;)

-The Gneech
  • Current Mood
    silly silly
Scar Surrounded

From Memory

FORD: Well, I'm sure you all have lots to talk about, so if you could just drop us off on the nearest convenient planet--

CAPTAIN: Ah, well, I'm afraid we can't do that. You see, none of us are very good at that sort of thing, so our trajectory thingie was pre-programmed before we left Golgafrincham. So you're stuck with us all the way, I'm afraid.

ARTHUR: So when are you supposed to land?

CAPTAIN: Oh, any time now. Just about time for me to be getting out of this bath, I should think. But why stop now just when I'm enjoying myself? Anyway, we aren't really programmed to land on the new world, so much as crash on it.

ARTHUR AND FORD: Crash???

CAPTAIN: Yes, crash. There was a terribly good reason for it, but it seems to have slipped my mind at the moment.

FORD: You're all a load of useless, bloody loonies!

CAPTAIN: That was it! That was the reason!

*blooiee*

-The Gneech
  • Current Mood
    blah I just love my job.
Six Million Dollar Man

A Surreal End to My Day

Well, it was snowing all afternoon, which already makes things a little weird around here. Fortunately, it wasn't "OMG everybody get out and block all the ROADDSSS!!!11" snow, just white stuff blowing around in the air.

So laurie_robey and I left work at 4:00 and took me over to the Reston MRI Center, where I took off my trousers and put on a gown with weird little blue gears on it [1], and totally didn't fit into the MRI machine.

Well, part of me fit into it -- my head and neck. Once they hit my shoulders, it was "No way, José!" So they put me into the queue for the machine they put claustrophobics into. Roughly ten minutes later, I was on my back and fed feet-first into a giant yellow waffle iron, wearing not-particularly-noise-canceling headphones that were playing some "All commercials, all the time!" radio station.

The technician asked me what kind of music I wanted to hear, so I said "classical." At which point the commercials changed to romantic ballads in Spanish.

Um.

The next 13-18 minutes consisted of me doing my best to hold absolutely still, staying as relaxed as I could without letting my limbs flop around, listening to "Unchained Melody" sung in Español while somebody outside jackhammered on the building foundation they ran current through a little rack mounted over my lower abdomen and took scans of the magnetic field.

The worst part of the experience was the inevitable itchy nose you always get when you're not allowed to move. The second-worst part of the experience was the one song that was sung in English, a revolting piece of mush about "Mother, please forgive the times I made you cry, I hope you'd be proud if you could see me now, I miss you so much..." internet platitude variety. I was a little worried that I might hurl on the spot, spoiling not only my scan but the bits of my shirt not covered by the gown. Fortunately, it had been five hours since lunch and there wasn't much real danger of that.

Mainly, I spent the whole time either doing my best to meditate (not easy with BDDDDAAATTDTDAAAATTTT!!! and "Te quieroooooooooo!!!" shaking my teeth), or pondering the surreality of the situation. And wishing I had a blanket over my feet.

Anyway, my doc should have the results by Friday, and I have the intravenous ultrasound next week. So we'll see what we can see.

-The Gneech

[1] Interesting study in generic applicability: they were little blue gears, so they could seem masculine, but they were also small and from a distance looked like flowers, so they could seem feminine. The science of "offending nobody" really has jumped light-years in the past decade, hasn't it?
  • Current Mood
    amused amused