Thursday, March 12, 2009

How to get a Harry Potter fan to do math

G (face down on her desk): Uuuuugghhhhh.
Me: Just one more problem to go. You can do it. Everyone is counting on you!
G (starting to giggle): Like in Quidditch.
Me: Yes! Grab the Golden Divisor for Gryffindor!
G (laughing so hard she can barely hold her pencil): Okay.
Me: ... And she's done it! Gryffindor wins the Improper Fractions Cup.
G: Can I go start reading Goblet of Fire now?
Me: Be my guest.

Sunday, March 01, 2009


Friday was P's thirty-ninth birthday. I can't upload my own photos right now, so I'll have to mark the occasion with an image of some blue hydrangeas like the ones I took to the cemetery for him.

Happy birthday, P. If you were here, I know you'd be telling everyone you were still twenty-five, the way you always did. And if I could have you back, just for one day, I'd let you get away with it.

Halfway point

We are finally, as of 4:15 yesterday afternoon, officially moved out of our old place. This is the result of eight hours of sweaty, backbreacking solo work that I put in throughout the week, and I would like to thank the Girl Scouts of America for giving G something else to do for four and a half of those hours, or else I'd still be over there hauling junk and mopping floors right now.

I feel like I've been beaten up, but at least I'm done.

Except that now I have to unpack everything here at the new place.

Oh God.

One thing I realize every time I move is how dirty houses and apartments get after a couple years of living in them. I do clean regularly (although not with the bacteria-annihilating zealousness that P did), but when I look at a place through the eyes of a prospective new tenant, I suddenly discover appalling filth lurking in places like the tops of appliances and the edges of cabinet doors and the floor behind the toilet. I can only assume that I never notice it because it's my own filth and I'm comfortable in it. It's like a snuggly warm coat of filth!

In other news, we still haven't got cable here at the shiny new Casa de V. I suffered through a few days with no Internet at all and then remembered that I still had AOL installed on my old laptop, so at least I have some connectivity now, if you can call being connected at 41,000 bps "connectivity." I haven't used dial-up in almost seven years, but I don't remember it being nearly this bad before. Not only does every page take 20 minutes to load, but a lot of sites won't display at all because they have Flash or are otherwise optimized for broadband users. But I have to admit it's fun to hear the beeping and hissing and sproinging of a modem dialing again; it reminds me of the exciting summer of 1996 when P and I got our first computer, and I would spend half the night going from Web page to Web page to Web page, marveling at the way it seemed never to end. Oh, techno-innocence, how sweet you were. Not as sweet as wireless broadband, though.