Atlanta

I decided on Monday that there were several reasons why it was necessary for me to leave town for a few days. The water was going to be off all over my apartment complex, I have a promising interview later this week which might make future trips more difficult, and I just sort of felt like it.

So I went to Atlanta.

I just got home. I’m beat so I’m not going to tell any exiting stories about the trip tonight. OK, there weren’t really any REALLY exciting stories anyway, but still…

Randomly Saturday

Random thoughts for a Saturday night:

For those of you who may have been concerned about this, the secret ingredient in Wednesday’s cake, while no particular improvment to it, also proved not to be particularly detrimental either. In other words, no one (myself included) really noticed.
I spent today in Columbia with my parents, visiting an elderly cousin I hadn’t seen in a good twenty years or so. This being the south, we’re ALL cousins here, so I’m not 100% sure of the relationship. She was my grandmother’s first cousin, which makes her (I believe) my first cousin twice removed. Yes, this being the south, people also pay attention to distinctions like that. Makes it easier to keep up with who’s off limits for breeding.
Is it just me, or do truck lane restrictions actually make driving on the freeway MORE dangerous rather than less? Around here, trucks are restricted to the right two or three lanes of urban freeways. In theory, I assume it’s supposed to make drivers in the left lane feel safer. In practice, however, it just makes truckers behave like assholes in lanes where other drivers expect to be moving at a slower pace. So you end up with big rigs riding your ass at 70MPH when you’re not even IN the fast lane because (a) they CAN’T pass and (b) they WON’T slow down.
Why is every freaking freeway interchange in South Carolina NAMED for someone? And why is it always someone with a stupid nickname in quotation marks, like Jefferson C. “Buzz” Dingleberry, or something similarly idiotic? As honors go, having your own memorial onramp must rank just slightly above having a toilet in New Jersey named for you.

Mmmm. Cake.

I’m baking a cake. A carrot cake, specifically. It may be a very interesting carrot cake, because I accidentally sprinkled garlic powder into the mix rather than the ground cinnamon I thought I had in my hand. I think I managed to scoop most of it out, but you never know how much of a great new taste treat I may have developed here.

Stuff

It’s off to Greensboro tomorrow to take care of some business for a friend and to install a new printer and scanner for my mom. I wanted to do this earlier in the week, but my life is sort of on hold thanks to the leisurely pace at which so many medical professionals seem to operate these days, particularly when it involves getting in touch with patients.

Of course, my aversion to technology which facilitates people getting in touch with me may be making this all a bit more difficult, but I’m comfortable with that.

This, by the way, is hysterical, and comes to you via here.

Leave Me Alone

Three of the most decidedly low-tech aspects of my life:

I do not have a cell phone.
I do not use any instant messaging software.
My apartment does not have a doorbell.

If someone tried really hard, he might be able to make some very astute observations about me from this list…