Well, my site was going to look different tonight, but apparently Blogger is doing some work and I can't access my html. This does not make me happy. Folks (and by Folks, I mean Person Who Runs Blogger), if you're going to have some web based thing that a lot of people use, please, and I mean PLEASE, either have a test machine that you run your changes on, then upload all of the good stuff at once, or (because some people only have one computer (I am one of those people(because I have no use for a test machine))) do your changes in the middle of the night, not during one of the highest traffic hours of the day. OK, ranting and raving complete.
So, what did I do today?, you may ask yourself. Well, I'll tell ya. (for those of you stalking me, this would be a good time to grab a pen (or a pencil, if that's your fancy(or any type of writing implement)) and a piece of paper to make an entry in your "Stalking Ashley" journal) The day started out with me attempting to read my book. I have the top picture with the title outside of the helmet. I like that one better. My dad gave it to me for Christmas, which we celebrate Christmas Eve. So I opened the book, was very excited, then he asked if it was okay for me to leave it with him to read first. Which made me laugh. But I left it, knowing that it would be a while before I got to it. And last night was when I got to it. I was feeling pretty crappy (still coughing a lot). Actually, let me tell you about last night. I have this nasty cough. The past two mornings I have spent an hour hacking stuff up. Not pretty. My cough was pretty bad at work. I would be handling a camera, trying to sell it to a customer, then turn my head and cough (hehe, I'm a girl, and that sentence is funny to me. Fine, I'm a dumb girl) into my hand, and turn back around to the customer. It got so bad that at one point I asked Jason to take over so I could heave up my lung in the bathroom. Which I almost did. So he let me leave work 45 mins early. And I started this book. (still coughing)(have to turn my head away from the computer so I don't get spittle on my lovely laptop)(have now gotten up to get my giant jug of water)(have stopped coughing (for the moment), but will soon have to pee) It's really good. Except for this ridiculous bit of exposition and a cheesy line. My favorite time period is Middle Ages, which is when most of this book takes place. So, I don't want to put it down, but I'm really sick. So I read until 2 in the morning. Then go to bed. Then get up and start reading again. I was supposed to visit Martha today, but I'm still sick, and didn't want to get her and the baby sick again (they were just getting over it). Which I felt bad about, because the baby is making Martha lose her mind. And I love Martha's mind, and would hate for it to be lost. Back to the morning. When I first got up, I spent about an hour making frequent trips to the bathroom to spit out the chunky phlegm I had just coughed up. And by frequent I mean about every other page. It was quite annoying. So I made some hot tea and drank a lot of water, and that seemed to help. Which is why, earlier, I said, "attempting to read my book." At one point I get a call from Click asking if I could come in to work. No, I could not. One of the girls called off with the "flu". Now, I love this girl, but suspect that she was not sick. I also know that I could be wrong. Well, hopefully someone came in to cover her shift.
I finished the 450 page book around four, after making myself a meal of toast with butter and peanut butter, and bacon. I took a shower and didn't turn on the device that sucks all of the humidity out, which helped with the hacking. Then I picked up zha and went to India Palace to have dinner with Tosh, Caroline, and Ben. It was a nice, low-key dinner. I still coughed, but at least I wasn't self conscious of handing them back a germ-infested camera. I mean, would you want to buy something from someone who sounded like they were going to die? I wouldn't. Dinner was great, but I wasn't ready to go home yet. I mean, I had spent the entire day in bed, let's go do something. But nothing that involved much movement. I still feel crummy, let us remember that. So zha and I go to the coffehouse and I play on their nice T1 lines and download something that was taking way too damn long on my pathetic 57k modem. Or is it 56k? Who cares? It's slow. So now I am back home, getting ready to go to bed. I have class in the morning, then work until 9 or so tomorrow night.
Now, my class. Last quarter I absolutely loved my ASL class. This quarter, not so much. As of Friday, they didn't have anyone to teach the class. So I show up Tuesday, and the woman who is teaching it was 30 minutes late. Which was fine with me, because I was 15 minutes late. The class was supposed to be in Building 10, but it was moved to Building 9. No one was told, there was just a note written on the chalkboard of the empty room. Now, you would think that, seeing as how 10 comes directly after 9 when dealing with whole numbers, the buildings would also be located near each other. Well, no, not on the Sinclair Community College campus. They are a ten minute speed-walk apart. So I was late. The teacher. She's profoundly deaf. Which is usually fine. My teacher last quarter was deaf and didn't speak. If she needed to communicate, she wrote on the board. A bit tedious, but we didn't know any sign at all. It was the first course. Mary Ann Barth. I love her. She was so cool. She didn't grow up deaf, like this new teacher (whose name I don't even know. Joyce something). She eventually went deaf, which is sad, seeing as she was a music major and traveled in a band for a long time (reasons why she went deaf)(plus it ran in the family plus she had scarlet fever as a kid). But she was very easy to understand. I learned a ton of stuff and loved every minute of it. This new teacher. Her fingers are fat and I think she has arthritis, because her fingers are also slightly misshapen. She signs like, how can I put this? OK, say you are just learning to speak Spanish from a teacher who grew up in Spain. You first want to hear the proper pronunciation of the words before you get into local dialects. But your teacher forgets that you can only say, "My name is...I live in...I drive/walk/ride a bike/take the bus to school", and said teacher talks way too fast and isn't conscious of pronunciation. That's what this lady is like. I learned "teach" as a sign made up by your head. She did it near her stomach. Fine. If you're fluent in the language, or are at least more than a beginner. But it took me a while to figure out what she was doing. And other students weren't so lucky. About half had no idea what the hell was going on. And neither did Joyce. She hadn't even looked over the syllabus. So I think this quarter, anything I learn will have to be on my own.
Enough. I am going to go to bed now. Sweet dreams, all.
So, what did I do today?, you may ask yourself. Well, I'll tell ya. (for those of you stalking me, this would be a good time to grab a pen (or a pencil, if that's your fancy(or any type of writing implement)) and a piece of paper to make an entry in your "Stalking Ashley" journal) The day started out with me attempting to read my book. I have the top picture with the title outside of the helmet. I like that one better. My dad gave it to me for Christmas, which we celebrate Christmas Eve. So I opened the book, was very excited, then he asked if it was okay for me to leave it with him to read first. Which made me laugh. But I left it, knowing that it would be a while before I got to it. And last night was when I got to it. I was feeling pretty crappy (still coughing a lot). Actually, let me tell you about last night. I have this nasty cough. The past two mornings I have spent an hour hacking stuff up. Not pretty. My cough was pretty bad at work. I would be handling a camera, trying to sell it to a customer, then turn my head and cough (hehe, I'm a girl, and that sentence is funny to me. Fine, I'm a dumb girl) into my hand, and turn back around to the customer. It got so bad that at one point I asked Jason to take over so I could heave up my lung in the bathroom. Which I almost did. So he let me leave work 45 mins early. And I started this book. (still coughing)(have to turn my head away from the computer so I don't get spittle on my lovely laptop)(have now gotten up to get my giant jug of water)(have stopped coughing (for the moment), but will soon have to pee) It's really good. Except for this ridiculous bit of exposition and a cheesy line. My favorite time period is Middle Ages, which is when most of this book takes place. So, I don't want to put it down, but I'm really sick. So I read until 2 in the morning. Then go to bed. Then get up and start reading again. I was supposed to visit Martha today, but I'm still sick, and didn't want to get her and the baby sick again (they were just getting over it). Which I felt bad about, because the baby is making Martha lose her mind. And I love Martha's mind, and would hate for it to be lost. Back to the morning. When I first got up, I spent about an hour making frequent trips to the bathroom to spit out the chunky phlegm I had just coughed up. And by frequent I mean about every other page. It was quite annoying. So I made some hot tea and drank a lot of water, and that seemed to help. Which is why, earlier, I said, "attempting to read my book." At one point I get a call from Click asking if I could come in to work. No, I could not. One of the girls called off with the "flu". Now, I love this girl, but suspect that she was not sick. I also know that I could be wrong. Well, hopefully someone came in to cover her shift.
I finished the 450 page book around four, after making myself a meal of toast with butter and peanut butter, and bacon. I took a shower and didn't turn on the device that sucks all of the humidity out, which helped with the hacking. Then I picked up zha and went to India Palace to have dinner with Tosh, Caroline, and Ben. It was a nice, low-key dinner. I still coughed, but at least I wasn't self conscious of handing them back a germ-infested camera. I mean, would you want to buy something from someone who sounded like they were going to die? I wouldn't. Dinner was great, but I wasn't ready to go home yet. I mean, I had spent the entire day in bed, let's go do something. But nothing that involved much movement. I still feel crummy, let us remember that. So zha and I go to the coffehouse and I play on their nice T1 lines and download something that was taking way too damn long on my pathetic 57k modem. Or is it 56k? Who cares? It's slow. So now I am back home, getting ready to go to bed. I have class in the morning, then work until 9 or so tomorrow night.
Now, my class. Last quarter I absolutely loved my ASL class. This quarter, not so much. As of Friday, they didn't have anyone to teach the class. So I show up Tuesday, and the woman who is teaching it was 30 minutes late. Which was fine with me, because I was 15 minutes late. The class was supposed to be in Building 10, but it was moved to Building 9. No one was told, there was just a note written on the chalkboard of the empty room. Now, you would think that, seeing as how 10 comes directly after 9 when dealing with whole numbers, the buildings would also be located near each other. Well, no, not on the Sinclair Community College campus. They are a ten minute speed-walk apart. So I was late. The teacher. She's profoundly deaf. Which is usually fine. My teacher last quarter was deaf and didn't speak. If she needed to communicate, she wrote on the board. A bit tedious, but we didn't know any sign at all. It was the first course. Mary Ann Barth. I love her. She was so cool. She didn't grow up deaf, like this new teacher (whose name I don't even know. Joyce something). She eventually went deaf, which is sad, seeing as she was a music major and traveled in a band for a long time (reasons why she went deaf)(plus it ran in the family plus she had scarlet fever as a kid). But she was very easy to understand. I learned a ton of stuff and loved every minute of it. This new teacher. Her fingers are fat and I think she has arthritis, because her fingers are also slightly misshapen. She signs like, how can I put this? OK, say you are just learning to speak Spanish from a teacher who grew up in Spain. You first want to hear the proper pronunciation of the words before you get into local dialects. But your teacher forgets that you can only say, "My name is...I live in...I drive/walk/ride a bike/take the bus to school", and said teacher talks way too fast and isn't conscious of pronunciation. That's what this lady is like. I learned "teach" as a sign made up by your head. She did it near her stomach. Fine. If you're fluent in the language, or are at least more than a beginner. But it took me a while to figure out what she was doing. And other students weren't so lucky. About half had no idea what the hell was going on. And neither did Joyce. She hadn't even looked over the syllabus. So I think this quarter, anything I learn will have to be on my own.
Enough. I am going to go to bed now. Sweet dreams, all.
posted by a c at
8:32 PM
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