good one

Yesterday I had to proctor another exam. I hate doing it. I just sit there (or pace the aisle) and watch 120 students to make sure they don't cheat. They usually don't, but sometimes I do catch people. That gets awkward very quickly.

Me: "Whatcha got there?"

Student: "NOTHING. WHAT? WHAT?!?!?!? THAT'S NOT MINE!!!!!!!!!"

Me: "Just give it to me."

Student: "Ok."

I digress. Yesterday it wasn't a very full room because the exam was optional. Students who chose to take it could use that grade to replace a lower one that they'd gotten earlier in the semester. Anyway, everyone was pretty spread out in the room, and I didn't think any cheating was going to happen, so I started grading some of the essay and short-answer questions that had already been turned in.

One of the questions was about Freud's "psychosexual stages of development." Most psychologists don't really use these anymore, but they're still considered an important piece of history to be learned by introductory students. Kind of like in math class how we learn about previous attempts to do math that are now known to be incorrect. Oh wait, we don't do that.

I digress. One of the stages is the "Anal" stage. Freud thought it was really important for kids (aged 18 - 36 months) to be focused on potty training because that's the most important part of their development at that time. Today, we know that other things are more important at that time, but you'd think it was important too if you were living in a society without access to modern diapers. Freud thought that people who didn't progress well through the Anal phase would get hung up on things like neatness and cleanliness. This is where the idea of an anal-retentive (or "anal") personality originated.

The question on the exam I was grading asked students to write the name of the stage (Anal) and to describe the key conflict (potty training). I was going along, grading and minding my own business, when I came across this answer.

Stage: Anal

Key Conflict: Not sticking stuff up ur butt

I, of course, immediately chuckled.The professor (who was sitting next to me, also grading) leaned over to see what I was laughing at. She started laughing. I laughed harder. She laughed harder. The whole time we were trying to be quiet because there were still about 20 students taking the exam and wondering why their professors had just gone INSANE at the front of the room. We just couldn't keep it together. After about 10 minutes of laughing, we finally gathered ourselves.

Here's to "not sticking stuff up ur butt."

rethinking my backup plan

The other day, I proctored an exam (babysat students to make sure they don't cheat) with a professor. As one of the students was leaving, the professor commented on the student's shirt. The shirt was advertising a luxury hotel in the French Quarter of New Orleans, and the professor said, "Cool shirt. I stayed at that hotel once. It was really nice!" The student proudly responded, "Yeah! It's my family's hotel."

I looked up the hotel later. It's not just a luxury hotel. It's a LUXURY hotel. Like they always say: As a psychology major, you won't make much money without going to graduate school or having some kind of backup plan. My plan was graduate school. Maybe old money and a trust fund would have been a better idea. Live and learn.

Thanksgiving

Sarah and I have had a great Thanksgiving break so far. Even though we haven't done much out of the ordinary, we've really enjoyed having a house full of guests. We've played games, watched movies, gone shopping (boo!), and eaten. We've eaten a lot. Our pets have especially enjoyed our guests. Lots of extra attention would make anyone happy, I guess.

Um... what?

I was proctoring an intro psychology exam the other day (watching students and answering questions) when I had an interesting interaction. A student raised her hand to get my attention, so I walked over to see if I could answer her question. I'd already answered a few of her questions that day, so I wasn't really expecting what happened next.

Student: Um...what? Points at question #36.
Me: I looked at her expectantly, waiting for her question.
Student: Alternates between looking blankly at me and blankly at the question.
Me: Um...could you maybe rephrase your question?
Student: Panicked look.
Me: I think this question is just asking you to explain what effect tranquilizing drugs have on your brain.
Student: But...I've never done drugs! How am I supposed to know?
Me: Um...I think this question is asking less about personal experience and more about what your book says...

Did you feel that?

Last night I watched the big LSU-Alabama football game. It was on late. Sarah was asleep. The house was quiet and still. I felt a weird sensation. Some shaking. It got a little stronger and persisted. My train of thought went like this:

1 second in: What is this, an earthquake?

3 seconds in: Interception! No!!

5 seconds in: Hey, that hanging light fixture is swaying. I think this is actually an earthquake!

7 seconds in: No!! No one is ever going to believe me!

It immediately brought me back to the only other earthquake I've experienced. I can see it vividly. I was three years old (almost four), and Mom and I were over at Grandma and Grandpa's house watering their plants because they were away. I was sitting on their stairway with my head between the rails, and I felt the stairs move underneath me.

Me: "Mom! The stairs are moving!!"

Mom: No, silly.

It turned out that I was feeling a 5.0 earthquake centered about 225 miles away in Cleveland, OH. The one I felt last night was the same distance away, and it was of a similar magnitude (5.6). But, Sarah, the light fixture WAS moving. It was!!

busyness as I see it

Here's the view of my academic to-do list from my corner of the world.

1. Thesis journal submission
2. Quals
3. Diss. proposal
4. False signaling project
5. Ovulation paper
6. Behavior change project
7. Anthro & trees project
8. Anthro & disease project
9. Self deprecation project
10. Romanian orphans project
11. Consulting
12. EP write-up for Monitor

This stuff is all due yesterday.

8 years of practice makes perf...average at best

I've been learning to play guitar for something like 8 years. I don't remember exactly when I started, but I know my first guitar was a gift from Grandma and Grandpa during the first year or two that Sarah and I were married. I always still say that I'm learning to play because I'm just ok at it, and it's been a long process. Even if it's slow, at least I keep improving.

The whole time I've been learning to play, I've also been working on my singing voice. When I started, my singing was bad. Really bad. Comically bad. Sarah's mom and sister used to poke each other and snicker at me during church. True story.

I don't really mind being bad at things. That being said, I absolutely hate being bad at something that I devote time to practicing. Like singing. Or playing the guitar. So, I toiled away for years without much improvement in the singing department and only a little improvement in the guitar department. It was very frustrating. I told you, I don't do well when I devote time to something and don't get better at it. It makes me so mad!

I don't know when it happened, but I think the musical area in my brain started to change at some point in the last year or two. I saw very modest, slow improvement. Then about a month ago, I was trying to sing "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown." I say, "trying," because I can never sing this song. Can't hit most of the notes. But I kept going anyway. And I started hitting the notes. All of them. I kept singing but moved on to other songs that I'd never been able to get quite right. And I could sing those too. Totally weird. It was like my brain and my throat finally figured out how to sing a full range of notes. Actually, I think that might be what happened.

Fast forward to last week at church. I was singing along, like usual, and trying not to annoy the people in front of me. During greeting time, the woman in front of me quickly wheeled around, took my hand, told me what a nice voice I had, and said she loves worshiping when good singers sit near her.

I told her she might want to get her hearing checked. Even so the compliment was so nice to hear. Like music to my ears. Get it? Music? Singing? Then, this week a guy next to me patted me on the shoulder as we were leaving and said, "Nice job singing!"

Eight years of practice for two compliments? Totally worth it.

I'm a confusion barometer

Yesterday I was sitting in my Structural Equation Modeling class, and I was having trouble understanding the concept the professor was teaching. It wasn't just me, either. Everyone was having trouble following along. The professor is a really smart, higher-level math kind of person, and all of us students are just regular-level math kind of people.

So anyway, he kept going and going and everybody was totally lost. Occasionally, he would pause briefly and say things like, "Does that make sense?" Or, "Is everybody following me here?" Of course the answer is, "No, not at all." But hardly anyone is ever willing to say something like that. When he asks these questions, he almost always looks directly at me. I usually ask a lot of questions in class, and I don't mind speaking up when I don't understand something, so I think he sees me as the class's confusion barometer.

That being said, I don't always immediately chime in when I don't understand something, because I like to wait and see if things get a little clearer as class goes forward and the lecture develops. Yesterday, class got about 2/3s of the way through, and it was clear at that point that I wasn't going to get it at all. Just as I was thinking this, the professor again stopped, looked directly at me, and said, "Does everyone understand what I'm saying?" He shielded his eyes from the light of the projector as he stared at me.

Me: If I was going to be totally honest...

Him: Yes...

Me: Do you remember earlier when you said "good morning"?

Him: Yes...

Me: That was the last thing I understood.

The class erupted in laughter. And not just a little bit, it took a few moments for things to calm down again. When they did, the professor (who also thought it was funny) tried to reframe things. But I think I threw him off his game, and even though he tried to simplify things further, class kind of deteriorated from there.

I saw him in the hall later and he told me he was glad that I'd spoken up. I think that means he's going to try and re-format the lecture for us dummies, which means that we get to spend another 50 minutes on Monday talking about the algorithms and matrix algebra that underlie the fit indices procedures used for testing structural equation models. Oh good.

the ALDS is killing me

The major league baseball playoffs are well underway, and the Tigers managed to make it in this year. In (my) recent memory, this has only happened once: in 2006. I feel compelled to watch. I love baseball, and who knows when the Tigers will next make the post-season. This most recent post-season drought was only 5 years, but the one before that was almost 20 years. What I'm saying is that if I don't watch them now, there's no guarantee I'll ever see them in the playoffs again.

Two problems: (1) They're playing the Yankees, a team you either love or hate. Because they're too good. Every year. Including this year. And there's a good chance the Tigers will lose. (2) ALL THE GAMES START DURING THE TIME I AM NORMALLY BRUSHING MY TEETH AND GOING TO BED.

In short, I haven't been sleeping enough. For instance, the third game of the series was very exciting. Two great pitchers were pitching for each team, and the game was neck and neck throughout. The Tigers pulled out a heartpounding victory around 11 PM, at which time I've normally been sleeping for 2 - 3 hours. Meanwhile, I'm all geeked up like I'm hooked up to a coffee IV drip, and I still have to get up at 5:15 AM. Compound this with the fact that they played games four days in a row, and I'M NOT GETTING ENOUGH SLEEP.

For better or for worse, the series will end tonight. I hope to have to lose a lot more sleep over the next few weeks. Go Tigers!

I might buy a safe

Yesterday I played basketball during lunch, as I usually do on Mondays. I ended up on a really good team, and we won a bunch of games in a row. One of the guys I was playing with was new. He was a really good athlete but not really a basketball player in the traditional sense. After the game we ran into each other in the locker room and started talking. It turned out he was a former football player (wide receiver) at my school, and he was back now to work as a staff member and to finish his degree. After some more talking, it turned out that he left just a few credits shy of his degree because he got drafted into the NFL by the Minnesota Vikings. He bounced around the league a bit and had to come back from injury a few times. He finished his career with the New England Patriots. As I was leaving, he said, "Hey, since you're a sports fan, I'm going to show you something."

He reaches into his gym bag, pulls out a Superbowl ring, and hands it to me! (I think he'd been wearing it and took it off to play basketball). It turned out that he was with the Pats in 2005, when they won the Superbowl in 2005. It was, far and away, the most impressive piece of jewelry I've ever seen. In size, it seemed like it was almost as big as a tennis ball. Heaviest ring I have ever held. White gold (or maybe platinum) encrusted with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires (the Patriots colors are red, white, and blue). The centerpiece was three giant diamonds shaped like footballs. Totally amazing. I looked it up later: It's worth about as much as my house.

Anyway, he was a really nice guy, and that was probably the most unexpected encounter I have ever had in my life. But if I were him, I don't think I'd keep that thing in my gym bag...

nothing new

I went to let the cat outside, and when I came back I caught Barney at the computer. I think he's a little sad because he didn't have any new emails.

experimental psychology speak

The new school year is almost in full swing, and I've been working on typical things. I've been learning to use a new statistics software called R. Unfortunately, it means I've had to start learning a special programming language called S that was developed just for statistics. It's really boring. I'll stop talking about it now.

Next week I'm starting a new study that's going to help figure out why modesty and false modesty are successful strategies for relating to other people. On one level, the answer is obvious. Say you're really good at tennis. If you're playing tennis with a friend and killing them, everyone knows you shouldn't say, "I'm awesome at tennis." If you want them to like you, you should say, "I got lucky today," or "You almost got me this time," or "Do you want to go get some ice cream? My treat!"

Most people intuit that this way of relating to people is successful because it makes you seem nice, or because it makes people like you. But I'm trying to get at the "why" on a deeper level. In experimental psychology speak, I'm trying to figure out the "cognitive processes that underlie this phenomenon."

I'll let you know if I ever get it figured out.

I knew it felt warm

I've been complaining about the heat down here a lot this summer. As it turns out, I had good reason. The national weather service just announced that our summer here in Texas was the hottest on record. FOR THE ENTIRE UNITED STATES. That is, no one has ever had a hotter summer. Anywhere. Ever. Not since they've been keeping records, anyway. Oh, unless you count other countries.

I'm hoping it'll be something in between

In honor of Labor Day, I'm not planning on doing any labor. Not if I can help it. Sarah and I both seem to be getting sick. I suspect she brought something home with her from school, but I can't prove it. Yet. Since I've last written, I haven't had a whole lot going on. I'm just getting back to the swing of things at school, a task that's going to be made difficult because typhoid Sarah keeps bringing back microbes that will eventually kill us both. Best case scenario my headache and sore throat turn into the plague and we both have to be euthanized. Worst case scenario we start a zombie apocalypse. I'm hoping it will be something in between.

back again

This week is the first week 'back' to school for the new school year. I say 'back' because I never really left for a long summer break. That said, I do work from home for the majority of the time in the summer, so my summer schedule is different from my typical schedule, and it's already been an adjustment being away from home 12 hours a day instead of 0.

Other than that, I'm doing lots of the same things. This semester I'm taking another statistics course (Structural Equation Modeling--I don't know what it is either). I'm working on writing up the results of some of the research I did last year, and I'm coming up with new research ideas.

One nice thing about being back on campus is that I get to play basketball twice a week. As usual, I took the summer of from competitive basketball (but still shot around in the gym a few times a week). I played on Monday. On Tuesday I realized, given the many protestations from my body, that I'm old. But that won't stop me from playing tomorrow...

man's best friend

Two evenings ago, Sarah and I were sitting on the couch watching TV. Barney was sleeping on the arm of the couch nearest to me. Everything was peaceful, but when the show ended, I said something snarky to Sarah about going to bed. She lunged at me, threatening a windmill punch. (Over-react much?). Barney sprang to my aid and starting barking at her. Thanks pal.

Yesterday, we were again watching TV. Barney was sleeping in the same spot and everything was again at peace. When the show ended, Sarah said something snarky to me about going to bed. I started tickling her, and she starting screaming and writhing on the couch (I guess because she liked it). Barney again leaped from his perch. Instead of helping Sarah in her time of need as he'd done for me the day before, he jumped on her and pawed at her armpits. Thanks pal.

I have trained you well, grasshopper.

short but sweet this year

Sarah and I finally made it home. All in all, our trip looked like this. On the first day, we drove from Texas to Knoxville, TN. We stayed in an exorbitantly priced Motel 6 just outside Great Smokey Mountains National Park. The scenery was beautiful. The Motel 6 was not. The second day, we drove from Knoxville to Princeton. It was hot, almost Texas hot (This was right in the middle of the big heat wave on the east coast.)

We stayed in Princeton for two weeks. As I've mentioned, I had a really great time at my workshop. I got to meet lots of people in my field, some from as far away as New Zealand. Others from as close by as the city next door to ours. Princeton has a great campus, and it was a lot of fun experiencing a new school for a little bit. During the two weeks, I learned a lot about how to research group behavior. I also got to take a trip to New York City and to the Jersey shore.

After leaving Princeton, Sarah, Matt, Rebekah, and I all went to Maine to visit Peter and his girlfriend Lindsay. It was a long drive, and we got stuck in a huge traffic jam in New Hampshire and Maine. It was worth it, though, because we got to see Peter and Lindsay for a few days. We all had a great time. Sarah went tent camping for the first time. She especially liked the hotdogs and s'mores that we had around the campfire. She did not like the rain and subsequent damp sleeping bags/damp everything. I think that's pretty understandable. Maine was really great also. Lots of nice scenery and mom and pop shops and restaurants. One night when we were driving back to our campsite, we almost hit a porcupine. I honked and he turned his butt toward us and put up his quills as he sauntered away.

After leaving Maine, we made the drive back to Princeton to drop off Matt and Rebekah, pick up the rest of our stuff, and sleep for one night. We said our goodbyes the next day and headed 3.5 hours down the road to Washington D.C. to visit some of our friends who just bought a rowhouse right in the middle of D.C. It was a short visit, but we had a really good time. We stayed up late talking, and then got up at 4:45 AM the next morning to start the 22 hour drive back home.

The drive home was very long. I didn't get tired until the very, very end (about 30 minutes from home). At one point I thought I saw a dinosaur walking along the side of the highway. I didn't. We finally pulled into our driveway at 2 AM. The cats and house were fine; although, they'd apparently had some sort of barfing contest while we were gone. I don't know who won, but it wasn't us.

And that's it. Sarah starts school on Monday, and I'm in the middle of getting back to work today. Goodbye summer. You were short but sweet this year.

Today is the last day of my summer program. I'll be sad to see it go. I've had a great time, and it's going to be a bummer to leave Hogwarts and head back home to regular life. Fortunately, we're going to head up to Maine to go camping and see Peter for a few days. It'll be Sarah's first time tent camping, so hopefully we'll have good weather and a great time. After that, we'll be heading back home with a quick stop in Washington D.C. to see our friends there. For now, I've got to run a catch a bus...

updates from afar

I've been having a great time at Princeton. I'm learning a lot and making new friends and contacts. It's also been really fun spending time with Matt and Rebekah. Today, the four of us are taking a day trip to New York City. It will be by Sarah and my first time there. There's lots to do, and we everyone keeps telling me that I have to put on pants before we can go, so I have to start getting ready. More to come!

I'll get right on that

Saw a job posting today for a job at an overseas university. Here's all they're looking for:

The chosen candidate will teach a general mix of Communications and Humanities and Social Sciences courses including Written Communication, Oral Communication, Technical and Corporate Communication, Research Writing, World Civilizations, International Relations, Sociology, Media Literacy, Psychology, Critical Thinking, Professional Development, Leadership & Teamwork, and Assessment Capstone Courses.

Well, when I finish this PhD, let me go out and get 7 more, and then I'll hurry up and apply.

it seems unlikely, but...

If you haven't seen the news, the heat here has been ridiculous. It was 107º yesterday, and it wasn't a dry desert heat either. It was a burn-your-butt when-you-get-in-the-car-and-drench-your-clothes-when-get-out-of-the-car-and-walk-four-steps-to-get-to-the-house kind of heat. And no one gave me any free food today, so double annoying.

I've been busying inside, trying to get all my work done before our trip to the Northeast starts next week. I hit a setback on Monday when I came down with some sort of mystery ailment. It started with some muscle cramps when I took Barney for our daily jog. Later that night, I developed a high fever, headache, and muscle cramps. I've been through all those things before, but for some weird reason, it was probably the most uncomfortable I've been in my whole life. That includes breaking my face and all of the times I've thrown out my back.

It's really weird. No one else around was sick, and I didn't seem to have passed it to anyone. The worst of it lasted for about 36 hours, but my temperature regulation is still off. I'm sweating a puddle into the couch right now, and I just feel really off. Because I got eaten alive by mosquitos while I was working outside about a week before I got sick (probably 50 - 100 bites), I kept (half) joking to Sarah about how I must have gotten Malaria.

In reality, I just figured it was the flu or food poisoning or something, but then tonight something I saw on TV that reminded me about West Nile Virus. So I looked it up. One of the variants of the virus is something called West Nile Fever. It fits my symptoms very well. Add that to the mosquito bites, the fact that West Nile been found in our area, and the fact that no one else is sick or getting sick. It really makes me wonder if I actually got it.

If I did, it's good news in a way. Sure, I was really sick and uncomfortable, but there's a pretty good chance I'm now inoculated against any future outbreaks.

there's no such thing as a free lunch

It's 6:16 PM. It's 106º. It's so hot, in fact, that I'm going insane. Let me outline the evidence for you.

1) Today is Chick-Fil-A's annual "cow appreciation day."

a) If you dress like a cow, they give you free a free meal.
b) Another way of saying this is that they give you a free meal if dress like a jackass.

2) I have a long history of refusing to be a jackass (or a cow).

a) For example, I refused to do this last year, even when Sarah went without me.

3) Today, I did not refuse.

They say the food is free, but that's not true. There's a social cost. Oh, also, a little part of your soul dies.

more adventures in manland

Before about two weeks ago, I knew approximately nothing about car maintenance. I take that back. I knew that I had to take the car in to an auto shop for regular maintenance and a wallet-emptying procedure. At the shop, manly, grease-stained men would do things to my car that I couldn't. But no more. Now, because of the internet, it is me who is grease stained.

When Sarah's car turned over 100,000 miles, I figured it was time for a major tune up. Instead of taking it to a local shop, I took it to Google. (Figuratively speaking, of course. As far as I know, search engines don't actually do the car repair for you. If you figure out how to get them to, please let me know ASAP.). Then I went to Amazon and bought a bunch of parts. Then I went to Autozone and Wal-Mart for more stuff.

All in all, I ended up changing the spark plugs, oil, transmission fluid, fuel filter, fuel pressure regulator, air filter, and accessories belt (the thing that powers the air conditioning, radio, electronics, fans, etc.). I also fixed a broken muffler strap, checked the freon level in the air conditioning, and later I'm going to flush and replace the radiator fluid.

Although I had to buy a few new tools, I probably spent less than $100 on actual parts for the car. I'd guess that the same services a shop would have cost somewhere in the neighborhood of $500-1000. So all in all, I spent (much) less than I would have at a shop, and I get to keep the tools. I love the internet.

Just as long as I did everything right that is. The day the transmission falls out of the car, I'll probably be singing (screaming) a different tune.

adventures in manhood

In addition to all my statistics calculations this week, I've been a man's man. I cleaned the garage. I replaced our kitchen faucet, again (the one I installed this spring was faulty, and we had to exchange it for a new one). I changed the spark plugs in Sarah's car. I was a man. The only reason I did these things was because I was avoiding doing the work of a real man: plumbing.

I don't think I mentioned it before, but the toilet in our guest bathroom had become completely detached from the floor about three weeks ago. How did that happen? Sarah really had to go, and there wasn't any stopping her, if you know what I mean. (Okay, I sat on it the day after the big storm and noticed it was loose. Part of the mattress had been resting on it while we were hiding from the hail. Furthermore, as I found out later, the toilet itself had been installed poorly.)

Like with most things, the problem didn't seem like it was going to be that hard to fix. Like with most things, it was hard to fix.

First I tried to work around the mistakes of the previous installation. The unpleasantness began when I was on my hands and knees peering up inside the toilet (which I had emptied and drained about 2 weeks ago). I was trying to line up some new parts on the toilet bowl with the newly exposed sewer pipe. I wanted to get it right, but I also wanted to get out of there quickly. Open sewer pipes aren't particularly pleasant. Sarah was helping me by holding the toilet steady as it rested precariously on it's front edge, tipped slightly so I could see underneath. I held the flashlight in one hand, and I used my other hand to fiddle with the new parts. My face was about an inch from the floor, and I was craning my neck to see what I was doing under there.

That's when a fist-sized ball of compacted poop slid down from it's perch on top of some sort of internal poop-holding shelf, past and against both my hands, and onto the floor next to my face. Plop.

Surprisingly, I didn't feel like vomiting immediately. But as the smell wafted over me and filled the room, some unpleasant thoughts began to collect in my head. "Hmmm... There appears to be more in there. A lot more." "Hmm... I think I'm going to have to clean it up if I'm going to finish." "Hmmm...  there's no telling how long that stuff has been collecting here. Definitely weeks. Maybe months. Maybe years. Maybe some of it isn't even ours." "Oh, the humanity!"

As I scraped it all into a box that had been sitting nearby, I pretty much lost it. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. Vomitorally.  I can still smell faintly it as I write about it. It happened 4 days ago.

It was a definite turning point in the whole operation. I took the toilet out into the yard, flushed it out with the hose, and let it sit in the 100 degree sun. Then I flushed it out with the hose again. Then I cleaned it. Meanwhile Sarah went to the store and bought bleach. When she got back, she gave all the surfaces in the bathroom a thorough cleaning.

I decided to scrap the attempt to fix the broken parts. I drilled new holes into the concrete foundation and installed a new brass closet flange (the thing that holds the toilet to the floor; the previous owners used a plastic one, and they installed it wrong, hence my current issue). Then I figured out that I could use a pair of washers to fix a design flaw in the new flange. Then I installed the new seals, put the toilet back on, and tried to forget any of it ever happened.

Unfortunately, I will never forget.

back to the grind

We were in Michigan all last week, but it's back to grind today. It was great to be there, and it was especially great to be away from here in the summer. Most days it was 20-30 degrees cooler there than here.

Despite a torrential downpour during the last hour of our trip (we even had to pull off the highway for a few minutes), we made it back safely last night around midnight. Twenty hours in the car is a long time, but it definitely could have been worse. We didn't hit any traffic or major construction delays, and the car didn't give us any trouble or anything like that.

Unfortunately, now that we're back, I have to get back to my homework.

fun with stats

All of the statistics I use as a researcher boil down to a simple equation.

outcome = model + error

Researchers come up with theories that try to explain the world (the model), but these models are always imperfect (the error). We use statistics to determine how accurately our models explain the way the world works (outcome).

Most of the statistical techniques used in psychology were invented by statisticians who are much smarter than I am. In some cases, they worked for years to make equations that would be simple enough for regular people to use. Today everything is really easy: There are computer programs that make the simple equations a snap to calculate. Instead of doing a TON of simple calculations by hand, you input your data into a program. With a few clicks of the mouse, the program tells you how accurate your model is.

The trouble, I'm told, is that to become a competent researcher, you need to understand the theory behind the complex equations. The best way to understand the theory? Hand calculations. Below are my 12 pages of calculations (each is front and back) from one assignment out of FIVE. It took me three days. The next two assignments will be much more intensive. I also did these calculations with the computer (also part of the assignment). That took less than a minute.

nice try jerk-face

We've had quite a few roofing companies stop by and offer their services in the last 10 days or so  I've gotten 3 bids so far ($4650, $4800, and $6681), but I'm waiting to hear back from the insurance company before I do anything.

The lowest bid was from a husband-and-wife team based about two miles from the house. When they came out to look at the roof, the husband drank a Slurpee from the ground while the wife went onto the roof to inspect it. Their Ford F150 had all sorts of ladders and equipment, and it looked like it had been used for a lot of jobs. They've been in business for a long time, so I figure they're probably a safe bet to do a good job. 

The highest bid was from a national company based a few towns over. Their guy came just before I got home for the day. When he came back a few minutes later to discuss the bid, he was driving a Honda Ridgeline without any equipment in the back (great driving truck, NOT a working truck). He was all about sales: from his pitch about how they use more nails than typical roofers, to the 'exact' bid of $6681 (designed to instill confidence because it is so 'precise').

When I asked him what he saw up on the roof, he gave me a stock answer about loose granules that would apply to any roof that needed replacing. Question: Given that there's nothing in the back of your fancy truck, how did you get on my roof without a ladder? Nice try, jerk-face.

glad to be okay

Tuesday night was pretty uneventful until about 7:45. After eating dinner and watching some TV, Sarah was checking her email one last time while I played a few songs on guitar. Unexpectedly, we heard our town's warning sirens begin a slow, "WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNN."

The city tests the sirens every Wednesday at noon. My first thought was, "Hey, it's not Wednes... Hey! Wait a second!" I immediately checked the weather online and saw that there was a Tornado warning for our specific city. Not just our area. Not just a 'watch.' A warning for our city.

After seeing images of the devastation in Joplin, MO, we weren't about to take any chances. We immediately headed to the only windowless room in our house: the guest bathroom. I did some more checking online and saw that the nasty stuff--including baseball-sized hail--wasn't forecasted to hit for another 15-20 minutes.

We went back out to do more preparing. We got our cell phones. I put a mattress over the tub. We turned on the TV to check the radar. In retrospect, we should have done a little more (e.g., brought food, water, and flashlights into the bathroom). Then Sarah wondered aloud if we should bring one of the cars into the garage. I quickly made room for it (all my re-modeling stuff was still spread out in there), and the hail started just as we got it inside. I parked my car in the driveway. It was partially protected by an overhang and two trees. As I ran back into the house, I got pelted by a few pieces about the size of a dime. It hurt.

You hear forecasters say a lot about softball-sized hail or golf-ball sized hail. Usually it's all hype. Not so fast. 

I collected those pieces after the big ones stopped falling. Given that they had about 15 minutes to melt in the 80-90 degree heat, I'd say we probably did have softball-sized hail. And the back yard was covered with these (and others that were smaller).

We spent most of the rest of the night in and out of the bathroom with all the pets. Things could have been a lot worse. We're thankful we still have a house. I'm working on getting somebody out to look at our roof, but I think we sustained some damage that will reduce the life of our already middle-aged roof. We hope the insurance will cover it. My car also has about 20 dents on the roof and trunk lid (the size of nickels and dimes) and a broken tail light. I don't think we'll submit a claim for that, because it's probably pretty close to our deductible in damage. I've already ordered a new tail light online, but I'm pretty bummed about driving around a dented car for the next 10 years.

isn't that 'convenient'

I bought new handles for the drawers. Worst decision so far with the kitchen. The old handles were an oddly narrow width, so I knew from the outset that I was going to have fill the original holes. I used a 'convenient' pre-mixed spackling compound made especially for filling holes in things like wood. It even came in a 'convenient' tube. About a week ago, I used it to fill the holes, beginning my descent into the abyss of 'convenience.'

Today I drilled the new holes. After I finished, I noticed that the holes on the right side of each drawer had slightly merged with the old holes because the spackle wasn't nearly as hard as the original wood. The drill bit got sucked right into the 'convenient' spackle and eviscerated it because it was so weak. The holes on the left side weren't affected because they were far from the original holes (like I said, the originals were a weird diameter). Maybe the 'convenient' pre-mixed spackle from a tube wasn't as convenient as I thought. Oh well.

I got to work putting on the handles. "Wait, why does this look like it's going to be crooked? Oh, that's because the holes on this drawer are crooked. Wait, they're crooked on ALL the drawers!?!?!" "Oh, but didn't you want crooked handles on all your drawers?" "Well, no, 'convenient' spackling compound, I didn't." Oh well.

It was then that I noticed that the screws that came with the new handles weren't long enough to go all the way through the super-thick faceplates on the drawers. Oh well, I went to work on both problems. I fixed the length problem by countersinking the holes (countersinking is a procedure in which you drill big holes partway through your piece of wood and on top of your little holes; this allows the heads of the screws to 'sink' partway into the wood in order to reach all the way through on the other side).

Unbeknownst to me, this extra drilling further compromised the 'convenient' spackling compound. And by further compromised, I mean that it destroyed it entirely and made it impossible to install these handles or any others. But I didn't notice this, of course, until after I had drilled giant new holes into all 8 drawers. I drilled them in an assembly line fashion for 'convenience,' but the destruction only became apparent when I went to re-install the first handle. Oh well.

Tomorrow I'm going to use the last of the 'convenient' spackling compound to fill the millions of holes I created in the drawers. Then I'll sand, prime, and repaint all of the newly-filled holes. Then I'll install knobs. Then I'll wish that the inventor of 'convenient' spackling compound had never been born. The end.

September it is

One coat of primer and three coats of paint later, the outside of the cabinets are done. I still have to paint the final coat inside the cabinets, and put 2-3 coats inside the drawers, but I think I'm making progress. A little: I also still have to get new pulls (or repaint the old ones, I can't decide) and put all the hardware back on (hinges, pulls, etc.).

Yesterday, I put what may be the coat of on the walls and ceiling. I still have to do some touchup and paint the trim, but that shouldn't be nearly as difficult as what I've done so far. I think I took for granted how many nooks and crannies we have in the kitchen (two levels of ceiling, several outcroppings, lots of corners, etc.). Painting the ceiling a different color (white) than the walls (light blue) may have been a little too ambitious.

I'd hoped to finish my project before I head back to school today for the start of my summer classes, but I didn't quite make it. I guess I'll have to shoot for September. Oh well, painting will be a nice distraction from statistics. Or maybe vice versa.

Home Improvement

I've been busy since Tuesday 'remodeling' the kitchen. Really all I'm doing is painting the walls, cabinets, and ceilings, but there's a lot of tricky/tedious prep work. First I had to take the cabinets apart. Then I had to remove 50-year-old wallpaper. That latter part took two days. Then I had to wash everything (walls, cabinets, ceiling, etc.). Twice. A lot of grease and grime builds up after a half-century of use. Then I had to sand everything. Then I had to wipe everything down. Then I had to fill 50 years worth of nail holes.

After three days, I've finally reached the point where I can get a stomach ache...I mean start applying primer to the walls (maybe I'm not allergic to paint anymore?).

birthdays are the worst

Somehow Sarah's birthDAY became an extended three-day-birthWEEKEND extravaganza. We went out for breakfast. We went to the zoo. We went out for ice cream. Twice. And that was just this morning. I also made homemade pizza, cake, buttercream frosting, and chocolate-and-sprinkle-covered cake balls. I had to widen the doorframe just so we could go to the store to get more food.

All this just reminds me that my birthday is coming up soon. Traditionally, what I do to celebrate is to get in a bad mood for approximately a week. It starts by chastising myself about poor career decisions and contemplating my mis-spent youth. It transisitions to fretting about my mortality, and telling Sarah that I don't want to do anything for my birthday. It ends when I realize that it's too late to actually do something, at which point I spend the rest of the day lamenting about how we didn't do anything to celebrate and vowing to do something fun the next year. Rinse and repeat.

I think the real problem is that I go into some sort of sugar-induced funk after coming down from the 'high' of Sarah's eatingfest...I mean...birthday...I mean birthmonth.

I'm flattered...but I have to go to bed

Last night I was singing and playing guitar in our spare bedroom. I was just finishing up with one of the last songs I was planning on doing when I glanced toward the window. A face was pressed up against the glass, leering at me from outside.

My brain momentarily short-circuited as I tried to process what I was seeing. Whatisthat?!?!?NO!!WHOisthat?!Ishegoingtomurderme???Isthisajoke?!NO!!It'sreal!!NO!!It'sacartoon?No, wait, it's a kid. Specifically, it was our 3-year-old neighbor. One side of our house has no fence, just a little strip of grass and some windows that face our neighbor's garage. Unbeknownst to me (but beknownst to his mother, who was watching from their driveway), he had sidled up to the window to watch, listen, and dance. And he was not pleased that I'd stopped playing.

He pressed in closer and frowned. I waved and then played a few more songs. He smiled and danced some more. Ok, kid, it's 8:30 and you (read: I) have to go to bed. Sarah and I turned off the lights and went into the other room to get ready for bed. He banged on the windows outside our bedroom in protest.

It's official. I have a fan.

alright, alright II: alright already

Thanks for the kind words. There, I said it. P.S. You are biased by genetics and love, and love caused by genetics, and genetics caused by love.

In other news, I bonked heads with a guy on the basketball court during a rough game yesterday. I was trying to steal the ball from him when the bone that protects my eye hit his head. Hey body: Good job protecting my eye, what does a guy have to do around here to get an eyebone-protecting bone?

I don't have a black eye, exactly. I would call it more of a mark that makes me look like a female model. You know, the ones who wear purple eyeshadow or mascara or whatever they use to look lusty. (Lusty? Is that a thing?). Only, because I've only got the mark on one eye, I look more like someone trying to make a fashion statement. Or a visually challenged lady of the night.

Fortunately for me, my condition is just temporary. Unfortunately for the other guy, he's afflicted by oafishness and anger that won't fade quite so quickly. At another one point during the game (before we bonked heads), he turned to me, glared down (he was a BIG guy), and screamed in my face: "If you ever do that again, I swear to *&^ that I'm going to punch you in your &*^%$%^ face, $%#$%^."

I have no idea what I did, but I did quickly discern that he needed a breath mint. Which is exactly what I told him. He didn't understand the hilarity of my response.

alright, alright

I've been bored with blogging for a while now. Maybe a year, maybe a little less, I don't really remember any more. After approximately six years of writing about what's going on in my daily life, I don't have a lot of novel things to say. And I'm pretty sure you've noticed too. I did this, I did that, blah, blah, blah.

A few years ago, I started sleeping right. Started going to bed early, getting up early. I started eating three balanced meals every day, working out every day. Gradually, Sarah and I developed a consistent routine.

Wake up at 5:21, take the dog out, feed the cats, let the dog in, work out (me)/take the dog for a walk (Sarah), eat breakfast, get ready for work, work, come home, make dinner (me)/take the dog for a walk (Sarah), eat dinner, watch TV, eat dessert, play guitar/read/watch more TV, get ready for bed, read the Bible, go to sleep. Rinse. Repeat.

I am not exaggerating. This happens every day. Saturdays and Sundays we don't go to work, but everything else still happens in the same succession. There are only so many times I can write about this without tearing my hair out. And it's going to start falling out soon eventually, so I can't really do that right now.

the beginning of the middle

I've been working on and off since last week to complete all the requirements for my upcoming 'graduation.' It's odd. They're giving me a degree. I'm graduating. But I'm not actually going anywhere, and nothing is going to change at school or elsewhere. Anyway, I'm almost done. I just have to corral a few more signatures and submit a few more documents, and then I'll be finished with a process that began around this time last year (when I started to think about doing my thesis).

When I start my dissertation, the whole process will start all over again on a much larger scale. I don't really want to think about it. Because I'll probably pee a little.

thesis defended

My thesis defense went well yesterday. There weren't really any major hiccups. I do have to make a few changes before I can turn in my official final copy to the dean's office, but it isn't something that is going to be too monumental. I should be able to get it all finished in a week or so. Then I'll have to wait for a while to get all the official signatures, paperwork, etc. And then that will be pretty much it for Master's v.2.0. Graduation isn't until the first week of May, though, so nothing is officially official until then...

back to the grind

Got back safely from Michigan last night a little before midnight, and it was balmy when I stepped out of the car. Maybe 70 degrees still. Twenty hours in the car definitely makes for a long trip, but the nice weather on our return was a pleasant surprise. The house was pretty much as we left it, with the addition of a role of paper towels knocked onto the floor and strewn about the kitchen. I guess the cats got a little bored.

I don't have too many plans for today. I think Sarah's going to do some cleaning, and I'll probably go to the store to get food so we can eat this week. I'm going to defend my thesis on Wednesday, a week earlier than I initially planned (I switched spots with someone else who needed a little more time). I'm basically ready for it, but I'm going to do a dry run with my advisor on Tuesday.

Other than that, things will go back to normal on Monday, and it will be back to the daily grind. Bummer.

so close, so far

I still have another few hours before spring break officially begins, but I'd really like to start right now. There are papers to be graded, and they're glaring at me from across my desk. It doesn't appear that they're going to grade themselves. Let me check...  Nope, I think I'm going to have to do it. Oh well, maybe next time.

the usuals

I've spent the last 10 days or so doing typical things. I've been doing a little research here and there. I've made some more revisions to my thesis. I'm on my last draft before I will defend it in front of the committee (on March 30). I also played basketball three times this week. We won our first intramural playoff game via a mercy rule (we were up by 40 with 10 minutes to go). Game two is on Monday, and I think our competition is going to be much better.

I got some more good news this week. I was accepted for that special summer program I applied to back in November or December. I'll learn some specialized methods of data analysis and some other new techniques for research, and it will look nice on my CV. More importantly, we'll get to visit Matt and Rebekah for two weeks!

Today Sarah and I are going to go to the Cheesecake Factory to use a gift card she won a while back, so that should be fun. We're also planning on stopping at Costco and running a few errands, which is slightly less fun, but what are you going to do. At some point I also have to do the all of the spring yard work (trimming, giving the grass it's first mowing, etc.), but I think I'm in the process of seeing how long that can be put off...

weekly basketball and thesis update

I finished the first draft of the final copy of my thesis document on Sunday morning. I'll probably be making changes to it in consultation with my advisor over the next few weeks or so. It's nice to have a draft done, but I've still got quite a bit of work to do if I'm going to be able to get it done and defended before the end of the semester (do-able, but quite a bit of work).

Intramural basketball was fun last night. After a pretty unimpressive first half (I only scored 2 points), I had a great run in the second half. In one 3-4 minute stretch, I had a layup, three 3-pointers in a row, and a three-point play (for a total of 14 straight points). It was just one of those days. I finished with 18 points, and we turned a close game into a blowout by the end.

It was a nice end to an otherwise uneventful day. I'll take it.

UPDATE:

Today just got a lot more eventful. Last week, I submitted a paper to Psychological Science, arguably psychology's best journal. In order to get published, the paper has to get past a cursory initial review from an editor (stage 1). It then has to get past reviews from three of the top scholars in the particular sub-subfield of the paper's topic (stage 2). It then has to get past the editor again (stage 3).

Psych Science gets almost 3,000 submissions a year from all different kinds of psychologists, and they typically reject 60-85% during stage 1. I just found out today that my paper got past stage 1. It's a miracle!

The bad news: They typically reject another 65% of the papers that get to stage 2, so the paper probably won't end up getting published. I won't find out the final decision for about two months, though, so at least I can celebrate the good news until then!

busy busy

I've been busy writing my thesis this past week. I really don't have all that much more to go. Just some polishing up to do, and then I have to make any changes that my advisor suggests. After I get done writing this first draft of the final version, it should take a few week to get it ready to defend before my committee, but I'm definitely about to enter the home stretch.

In other news, I may have broken my nose on Monday. It was, of course, during my intramural basketball game. I was playing defense, and the offensive guy was getting frustrated and slammed into me. I'm 90 % sure that it was an accident, though, that his head ended up hitting me right in the bridge of my nose. The only reason I doubt that it might have been an accident? He never apologized.

Anyway, I started to bruise immediately (so said my teammates). At halftime, I went to the bathroom to check it out in the mirror. It was definitely bruised. But it was also straighter than it used to be! Free nose jobs for everyone! Now, four days later, my nose is still purple and yellow, but it's definitely still straight. I'm not sure if it's just because of the swelling or the discoloration or what. I guess once everything goes away we'll find out.

Back to my thesis.

chalk up another one

We had freezing rain again last night, and Sarah and I both had the day off today. I was smart enough to bring home my laptop this time, though, so I was able to work all day anyway. I think that officially qualifies me as an idiot.

wintery week

Last week was a record. Sarah and I both had four days in a row of canceled school. Unfortunately, I didn't really expect it. I left my laptop at school. The roads were too dangerous to risk going in for it, so I had to work at home without a lot of my important stuff (statistics software, data, etc.). I did a lot of reading in the current issues of the psychology journals I'm supposed to keep up with, and I tried learn a little bit more about a few new topics that I'm going to have to write about in the next few months. Other than that, Sarah and I just tried to keep each other from going crazy in the absence of being able to leave the house. One of us was successful. The other of us is Sarah.

San Antonio among other things

I spent a good chunk of last week down in San Antonio. I was at the annual convention of the Society for Personality and Social Psychology. SPSP is an organization that most people in my field belong to. When you join, you give them money, and they send you journals that they may or may not let you publish your work in. If you want to go to the annual conference to hear more about the research it costs extra. But they'll let you 'publish' (put up) a poster with your research on it. I got the student discount. Only $125.

San Antonio was a lot of fun. I stayed at the Crockett Hotel, right across the street from the Alamo. The best part of the city is probably the Riverwalk. Or maybe the smell of horse droppings. No, the Riverwalk is better. The narrow river meanders through downtown, and the (concrete) banks are tightly lined with trees and 3-4 story restaurants and shops. There are no barriers between the walkway/patios and the river, so I'm sure hundreds of drunk people fall in every year. My only regret was that I didn't see it happen.

The conference was great. I got to hear a bunch of interesting talks, and I met a few of the 'celebrities' of social psychology. They acted like they didn't know who I was. Too star-struck, I guess. After spending a few days in the "hill country" and elsewhere in south-central Texas, I think I now know where all the stereotypes of Texas come from. There were cacti, mustaches, and lots of tasty Tex-Mex and BBQ. When I left San Antonio it was 75 and sunny. When I got home it was 76 and sunny. Now, three days later, Sarah and I both have snow days because of 1 - 3 inches of sleet (ice) accumulation on every major road/surface. The high today was 19. Definitely quite a change.

Fortunately, I was able to get in my intramural basketball game last night before the weather hit. It was a close game, but we ended up pulling away at the end to win. I had a good time. I scored 12 points and was able to get in some quality minutes. Next week we play a group of guys from the ROTC program. I'm sure they're going to be in great shape, so we're probably going to get run into the ground. If I survive, I'll let you know how that turns out.

first game

I had my first intramural basketball game last night. Despite being out past my bedtime, I had a good time. We were getting killed in the first half by 15 or so points, but we ended up making a comeback and winning 41 - 38. The other team had the ball with 7 seconds left and a chance to tie the game with a three-pointer, but I was able to block the attempt as time expired. All in all, I had a pretty good game: I scored 10 points, and all but 2 were in the last few minutes to help us seal the deal. I also came home with two egg-sized bumps: one on forearm and one on my knee. As a result, I'm pretty sore this morning. I think I'm old. The end is near.

it's all fun and games until someone sets a deadline

Because it's still the beginning of the semester, my work hasn't started to pile up yet. And neither has the resultant stress. This semester is set up to be the best term of all time for me (as a grad student) in terms of the potential to get work done. I've only got one class (a seminar where we just sit and talk about research ideas), and I have to skip most of it every week because I'm teaching a class that meets in the middle of it. So that leaves me with most of every day available for research and writing. If all goes well, I'll be able to defend my thesis in April or so, which will leave me on track to get my dissertation started next year, which will leave me on track to get a job in 2032.

One nice thing about the first few weeks of this semester is that I've been able to do little (or no) work on the weekends. True, there have only been two so far, but I'll take what I can get. I've been filling my time with things like rearranging our files, cleaning the garage, etc. Yesterday, I would have liked to get our taxes done, but Sarah hasn't gotten her W-2s yet, so that was out. Instead, I ended up making a big batch of granola, two homemade pizzas, and pierogies (sauteed homemade pasta filled with rosemary and garlic mashed potatoes). Then I freaked Sarah out by rearranging all the furniture in the living and dining rooms.

But that doesn't leave me with much to do in the four hours I have before church today. Maybe I'll put all of the furniture back.

don't try and text me your comments

Let me preface this story by reminding most of you that I am a generally tech-savvy kind of guy. I know about the newest gadgets and trends, and I can usually find my way around all-things electronic without any problems. One place where I've been left behind? Texting. Cell phones hit the mainstream (when almost everyone had one) about the time I was finishing college. By then, I didn't really have any friends, and I definitely didn't need text anyone on a regular basis to find the nearest party, or to say hello, or whatever, so I never really got that into it. Fast-forward to a few years later.

I was playing basketball the other day when one of the guys asked if I wanted to play on his intramural basketball team. I've played with this guy a lot, and we've gotten to know each other a little bit. I should mention that he's a few years younger than me (*ahem* almost 10).  I did want to play, although I don't know if it will work out because the games are probably all past my bedtime, so he handed me his iPhone so I could enter my number into his contact list. Then he said he would text me when he found out the schedule for this season.

Uh oh. I don't have text. What do I say?

Me: Um... I'm really old. I don't have text on my phone.

Him: Blank stare. Look on his face is a combination of confusion and anxiety. Umm...Ok...Umm...

Me: I guess a phone call would be out of the question? Perhaps you forgot, I just handed you my number approximately 1 second ago. Here, let me give you my email address. Just send it there.

Him: Looking relieved. Oh, ok. That will work.

Crisis averted. Next stop: male pattern baldness.

I'm not what you might call a noticer

Our kitchen faucet had been dripping for a while. I don't really know how long. I don't tend to notice things like that right away. When I did notice, I told Sarah, and she said it had been doing it "forever." Like I said, I'm not what you might call a noticer.

Anyway, I didn't really care all that much. Until I figured out (at 6:30 this morning) that it was the hot water that was dripping. My money! Literally going down the drain with each drip! But I wanted to keep that money!!!!

The faucet itself was really old, so instead of trying to fix it, I figured I'd just buy a new one. It's really a simple job (so long as you don't mind the second mortgage--"Oh, you want a faucet? That'll be $150,000). Famous last words. Step one, use the hot and cold water shut off valves to turn off the water to the faucet. Cold water off? Check. Hot water off? No. Turn the valve the other way. Hot water off? Still no. Turn the valve back the first way, harder this time. Hot water off? No!! Turn it until the skin comes off your hand. Hot water off? Not quite. Nooooooooooooooo!!!!! So much for a simple job.

Find a bucket? Check. Get sprinkled by slowly leaking hot water shut-off valve? Check. Get the cat out of the bucket? Check. Get the cat out of my face? Check. Get the other cat out of the bucket? Check. Let the dog out? Check. Let the dog back in? Check. Drop the pets off at the animal shelter? Tomorrow. Two hours later, I'd taken off the old faucet, gone to Lowe's, gotten a new faucet, and installed it.

Take care of the leaky faucet? Check. Take care of the leaky shut-off valve? I don't think so. Now that we have a new faucet, hopefully I won't have to shut the hot water off again before we move. Leave a funny surprise for the future owner of the house? Check.

we're back

Our trip home was pretty uneventful. It was long and uncomfortable, but it was uneventful. Surprisingly, we haven't yet had any jet lag to deal with. I think we never really got over it the first time around, so really, we're just back to our normal schedule.

The cats were really glad to see us. I don't think they like using well-used litter boxes. Barney has been asleep since I brought him home four days ago. He wakes up every once in a while to eat or to go into the backyard to sleep in the sun, but that's it. Our friends who watched him have two big dogs, and I think Barney must have tried to keep up for a little too long. Either that, or they drugged him.

This week Sarah has had to work, but I've just been hanging out at home because I don't go back to school until next week. I've done some bread baking, yard work, cleaning, and organizing. Nothing too major, but I'm trying to keep myself occupied. I've said this before, but I think I need a hobby.