10001110100110101
Hrumph. I was going to start complaining on how two weeks of relative slothness shouldn't have made me that sluggish yesterday and this sore today, but as I was driving to work, I came across an intersection where I saw an old man with a cane who was painfully (painfully for me) shuffling around the corner. Each step was slow and laboured, and it made getting out of bed for me seem like a walk in the park in comparison. (If you seen how I - try to - get out of bed in the morning, you'll understand.) Will I be like that sixty, eighty years down the road? Probably. I'm not looking forward to old age.
[0 Comments]
Ho boy, I thought I was playing recreational hockey. These guys are definitely out to WIN. They're spitting out lineups, matchups, and tactics, and here I am thinking "I just want to get on the ice and play". Doesn't anyone just play for fun?
[0 Comments]
Argh! I forgot to change pants before going to broomball yet again. This is becoming a bad habit. This time I played rather poorly. Well, I played okay actually, I just didn't get any goals.
The drive down was interesting however. I got onto the highway and was surprised that I was driving into a hail of small pellets. I thought it might've been coming from the truck ahead, (which I saw on the road before getting on the highway but was fairly far away by the time I got on) but I didn't think it could cover the entire highway with that much snow for that long. After driving for several minutes, I caught up with the truck and realized that it WAS the cause of the mini-squall. There was a good half-foot of snow covering the top of the rig and it was just coming off like a comet near the sun. It was definitely a cool effect, although quite dangerous if you're right behind the carriage since visibility was very low.
Anyhoo, by the time I passed the truck for good, most of the snow had blown off and the only mounds left on it were probably ice chunks. I'd hate to see those fall off and hit a car..
We had a lot of people show up for broomball today (around twenty-two) and while I (and the other tardies) was changing, a kid came into the room and asked us what we were playing. The answer, of course, was broomball. The kid looked at us funny and wandered off.
As I started walking to the rink, the kid was in the waiting area with a few of his friends. One of them shouted out at me:
"Hey Ing, can I have your autograph?"
Uhh.. later kid. Then they started yammering about me playing broomball and such, but I quickly shuffled off. After I got in the rink, I could've sworn I heard chanting in the background:
"Ing! Ing! Ing! Ing!"
WTF? I looked around and, lo and behold, there the kids were in the viewing area chanting my moniker. Now that's a little embarassing.
"Looks like you've got a cheering squad."
LH chortled. She asked me if I knew them. Pshaw right!
[0 Comments]
I've been working at getting the nav menu to generate automatically since I can't keep it updated by hand. I'm just about done I think, although getting the darned thing to work with the multiple style sheets is becoming quite a chore. The basic work is complete.
In other news, I've been going over the ShackNews links and found this interesting bit that being drunk can be partially psychological, and the need to learn standard. ArsTechnica has info on this cute little box (I talked about it's older brother over a year ago), and more cool pictures from the Hubble Space Telescope.
[0 Comments]
