September 23rd, 2004

i am not a stuffed tiger.

not even procrastination

I just consumed an entire roll of chewy Sweet Tarts, which are twice as expensive as the regular variety but certainly worth the extra thirty-three cents, and still don't feel like doing any of the tasks that I promised myself I would do before leaving my office.
the only earth?

get me away from here

Dahlia Lithwick on the "freeing" of supposed über-terrorist / enemy combatant Yaser Esam Hamdi to Saudi Arabia:
Hamdi's name stood for the proposition that the Bush administration couldn't run roughshod over the courts and the law in its pursuit of the war on terror. It now stands for precisely the opposite: With a yawn and a shrug, the administration sidestepped the courts and the judicial process once again, abandoning this criminal prosecution altogether and erasing the episode from our national memory. [slate]
Just in case you needed another excuse to not like the Bush administration . . .
chair, apartment

small miracles

Staring at the wall finally got old and the internet was boring enough that I eventually finished editing the last couple of sentences and sent my afternoon project off to be reviewed. It's amazing how writing a few sentences and composing a couple of emails makes the day seem like much more of an accomplishment.

The possibly sugar-induced productivity left me plenty of time to bus up to the U-District for a department happy hour at The District. They really brought out their most clever people when coming up with that name, didn't they? The bar was actually pretty nice, with giant booths that made everyone look tiny, at least one tasty appetizer, and space that was easily adaptable to our large, continually reconfiguring group.

After about an hour, Carole and I went to Thaiger Room for dinner. As usual, the food was good, but I can't imagine how the employees don't get black lung from working around the cooking fumes all day.

Now, I'm home and overdosing on reality television.