"good music = good party"

A blog post can mean only one thing: I have an assignment due and I'm procrastinating!

Don't worry; I'm making good progress on it. It's a two-page proposal and I'm mystifyingly half-done. "Mystifyingly" because it's hard to shoehorn a bullshit "we wanna play with toys" project into the serious form of an academic paper. Well, not hard; more like embarrassing. That's the word for an introduction that starts with "Parties are great. Everyone loves a good party."

To be honest, the only real problem with an introduction like that is finding a reference in the Association for Computing Machinery digital library to back it up.

Awful awfuller

It's Canadian Thanksgiving, or Canadian Thanksgiving Eve. I've heard both versions today. I think the lesson learned is "Regardless of whether Canadian Thanksgiving is Sunday or Monday (though I think it's Monday), it's still only a three-day weekend, whereas American Thanksgiving is a four-day weekend." I leave it up to the reader to draw conclusions, if any.

This evening I was asked if I have any plans for American Thanksgiving. I hadn't given it much thought, perhaps because it's so obvious: I'm going to cut one of my classes on American Thanksgiving so that I can go to the Exeter Dining Hall and have turkey. This plan is largely foolproof because every Thursday the Exeter Dining Hall offers turkey. I think this is to cover their bets because they know American Thanksgiving is on a Thursday, but they don't know which Thursday, and they don't want to insult the fifteen Americans on campus.

Another possibility: there are other foreign countries which celebrate turkey-based holidays on Thursdays throughout the year, and the Exeter Dining Hall does not wish to insult its richly multicultural clientele.

Really, you shoulda been there for Richly Multicultural Week last year. It was awesome. I remember musicians, chicken bones and ... not much else. I think they put something in the bubble tea.

Because it is weird, and because it is her heart

I regret nothing.

Well, maybe I regret the size of this image. But other than that? Nothing.

So hungry ... for bacon

It shouldn't be so difficult to find a bacon press in Saskatoon, should it? This is a province that caters to farmer-types, isn't it? And farmers love nothing more than bacon, don't they?

In order: No. Yes. Correct.

And yet, here I am, bacon press-less.

[For this next sentence, imagine I'm holding my hand up to my neck.]

I've had it up to here with preparing bacon the same old way.

[Hand goes down now.]

This "curled up bacon" business cannot continue. I'm considering making my own bacon press if Saskatoon's business community won't cooperate. You hear me, Saskatoon's business community?