New computer build went smoothly until I actually tried using Vista drivers.  This OS rivals ME in it’s ability to frustrate people:
Computer: Hey, you connected a new device, let me get you some drivers.
Me: That’s pretty cool, XP blew at doing that, now we’re in business.
Computer: Drivers found *BSOD* IRQL_LESS_THAN_ERROR *RESTART*
Me: What caused that?
Computer: You just recovered from a severe error caused by drivers, I’ve disabled them.  Let me get you drivers.  Drivers found *BSOD* IRQL_LESS_THAN_ERROR *RESTART*
Me: Stop that!
Computer: (Tune of the smirfs) La la la la la la la la la la la.
Me: Reboot in safe mode.
Computer: Your drivers have caused some problems, let me get….
Me: NO!!!!!
Computer: Well, you’re the one who’s giving me all these bum drivers.

Some months ago I purchased a trash can to bring down recyclables rather than 20 bins of sorted crap that’s unneccessary for our commingled recycling stream.  The bin was working fine up until a month ago when my family was crippled by the new recycling folks not picking up the bin.  After a drinking contest my brother waged against himself, I put everything into a construction garbage bag, which is a normal garbage bag but much thicker and that was picked up with no problem while the green can, brimming with obvious recyclables like aluminum can and 2 liter soda bottles sat untouched.  In anger, I made a 4″ x 4″ label that said “commingled” and taped it in place.  The next day, the cans were picked up although amazingly the lettering had been rendered unintelligible by rain resulting a smear of black and blue ink.  Apparently, all you need to have recyclables picked up is some sort of polychromatic smear.  I think I’ll tape a Jackson Pollack to the bin this week and see if it works.

I want to play BioShock, NOW!  To the point where I drove to New Jersey to buy a motherboard after I realized how barebones mine was (didn’t include a God damn CMOS battery, that’s like buying a car with the pedals as an item bought separatedly.)  Anyway, I tool over to CircuitCity as they’re the only people selling it on sale for $40.00 instead of $50.00.  Faulknerian Idiot Manchild is manning the Customer Service desk who told me the following three amazing facts:
1) CircuitCity doesn’t sell video games “like that”.  WTF does that mean?
2) BioShock is a Mac game (the top 2 inches of the box say “Games for Windows”) so they don’t have it.
3) I couldn’t get a rain-check because the game was available at other stores.

My Friday schedule has four classes, three are close together, the 4th is after a two hour break, piece of cake.  Wake up at 8:10, ride the train, do a lot of stat, break, law, come home.  Easy.  I found easier,  leave at 11:00 AM after the 3rd class, sleep to 2 PM.  Notice a pattern here?

So, my new schedule has be only taking 1 Thursday class, piece of cake.  Wake up at 11:30, ride the train, do some stat, come home.  Easy.  I found easier, sleep to 2 PM.

The air conditioning in the Jeep Cherokee hasn’t been working, and with exception of the hotter days, I have no problem with it but after weeks of fiddling, the Robinsons are yet to determine the root cause of the air conditioning kartoffel.  Today at the intersection of Bridgetown Pike and a street that comes off of bridgetown pike, a truck in front of me slams on reverse.  I have a car immediately behind me so can’t really move and I got terribly excited at the concept of being hit, blaming the AC problem on him and having everyone (but the truck driver) leave happy.  In fact, I was so excited I photographed the religious iconography on the back of his truck, here’s the one side, and the other. As I’m giggling like a schoolgirl he slams the breaks, pokes his head out the window and yells “sorry!”.  You should be.

Business Ethics is now a required class for Act. Sci. and all other business majors and today was the first session of what I imagine will make a long semester.  We started what will be a two-day process of watching the “documentary” The Corporation with such unbiased notables as Howard Zinn and Noam Chompsky as commentators.  At it’s conclusion:
Instructor: Any questions?
Me: Isn’t it hypocritical to start a class on Ethics by showing a copyrighted film in its entirety?
*Silence and angry stare*
I think I’m now officially the agent of The Man, a role I’ll have no qualms fulfilling.

Act Sci 3596 is the capstone course for Actuarial Science and today we did the “hi, my name is” routine asking where everyone was in the major as well as job experience.  The teacher was very inquisitive about everything until he got to me:
Me: I’ve worked on and off for a pharmaceutical firm for the last few years and recently I’ve done some CAPA work as well.
Teacher: What division?
Me: Chronic care, making medical devices
Teacher: What type of devices?
Me: Ostomy appliances
Teacher: Like?
Me: Colostomy bags and Fecal Management Systems.
(At this point he has no idea what I’m talking about but pressed on)
Teacher: And who was your target group?
Me: People who can’t shit right.
Teacher: Oh. *Giggles from people who’ve heard this before* Okay, why did you pick Act. Sci as your major?
Me: To win a bet with my High School Calculus Teacher.
Teacher: Moving on, Kelly Roh?

At the end of the camp season, I asked for a #10 can of Rice Pudding.  Why? Because I love rice pudding.  So, after a mediocre pork dinner provided by my brother I pulled out my can of pudding eliciting gasps of awe from the other table-sitters.  I stroll, can in hand, over to the can opener and put the can in.  Nothing.  Apparently, the ChefMagic can opener wasn’t design to go through food-service grade aluminum.  The blade eventually catches and cleanly scratches the top of the can.  I could feel it with my finger so I put the can in and let the opener go nuts for 10 minutes while we watch people get hit in the junk by footballs or are pants.  The brave blade finally breaks through and lets out a blood curdling screech as the actual aluminum is cut.  The blade immediately stops again and my father, with Robinson family ingenuity goes at it with the can opener.  Shortly the blood-curdling in screech is replaced with a teeth-jarring/spine-tingling howl.  There’s good news and bad news.  The good news: The can’s open.  The bad news: My father may be arrested for appliance abuse.  Anyone know of a good can-opener?

9.5 hours of work as my last official day at work went well and was followed by a 5-Color Event where I got win my own prize.  But the part of the day that will live in my memory for eternity occurred at the diner afterwards.  The American Star Diner located on Route 63 smacks of aged management, the drinks don’t have free refills, lettuce on a burger is extra and the salad bar contains pickled beets.  I scoured the menu for value and found it: the plain omelet with cheese for $4.75.  No, not the cheese omelet, which would have cost $5.25, but the plain omelet with a side of cheese.  Also, to get four scrabbled eggs with cheese would have been $6.50 and didn’t include the hash browns or the wheat toast that I ordered, which was written down as white, and was served as rye.  So, for the first time in four years, I walked out a diner having only paid $6.00 for the meal.  This was immediately followed by standing around like tools it the parking lot trying to remember two jokes which I later recalled and insisted on calling a 1/2 dozen people at midnight to tell.

Joke 1: What’s the difference between McJagger and a Scotsman?  McJagger says “hey you, get off of my cloud!” the Scotsman says “Hey McCloud, get off of my ewe!”
Joke 2: What’s the difference between a trapeze act and a strip show? One is a cunning display of stunts, and you can figure out the rest.

Finally, Katie Wesachipwich called me while intoxicated, which isn’t terribly different from talking to her normally except I don’t get hit as much and she apologizes for grammatical errors.  We shall have to spend an enchanting evening with a fine wine-in-a-box.