My disorienting moment of the morning involved watching a sexual harassment video where everyone was dressed like cast members from Saved by the Bell inside a building at UNCG I hadn’t entered in eighteen years, and then hearing Jump by Kriss Kross blaring from someone’s car when I walked outside.
It almost made me want a beer and a cigarette.
Utopia
Set Me Free (1980)
Chuckle-worthy, I thought.
And thank you for joining me for this five-minute break from studying for my “stupid GIS class I shouldn’t have taken in the first place but now I’m fucked” midterm.
Eight years ago today, I met the rest of my life. I’ve had a goofy grin on my face ever since.
Happy anniversary, my love.
Every year, on the occasion of the anniversary of our first date (during which we had dinner at the Denny’s on Blackstone Avenue in Fresno), Mark and I invade some unsuspecting branch of the chain for a tradition we call “Anniversary Denny’s”. There’s usually a photo involved, although there was none that first night in 2001, and I can’t seem to find one from 2003, either. Last year’s was special, if depressing; we were o different coasts, so we sent each other solo shots from our respective Denny’s.
Anyway, here’s the whole set to date:
The surest way to get me to be domestic on a Sunday morning is to assign me a paper that has to be completed that day. I’ll do damned near anything–from vacuuming to laundry to mass production of next week’s lunches–to avoid getting started on it.
That said, I’m only two and two thirds papers and one final away from graduation.
Corey Hart
Never Surrender (1985)
I’m including this here not because I particularly like the song (I really don’t) nor even because Corey wore jeans very well (he really did), but because I was amazed at how I caught one shot out of the corner of my eye yesterday on VH-1 Classic and instantly knew that this video was filmed in Toronto. Isn’t it cute how Toronto and I are building a relationship that way?
Stress testing begins on Bay Bridge
The new fix isn’t a vast departure from the original design; rather, it includes modifications designed to keep the brace from jiggling around. On Saturday, crews ground the sides of metal holes designed for large nuts that stabilize the original repair. They installed the nuts, checked the alignment, then removed them again to make further adjustments, Ney said.
If the newest repair should break, officials said, pieces of metal have been attached to the bridge to keep the patch from falling.
A sign of the times: Now it’s R.I.P. for JFG:
“Charlotte is a place that seems to have systematically removed any evidence it existed more than 15 minutes ago,” he said Sunday after learning the sign was coming down. “It’s good to keep some old things around to remind us how people have worked to create a city.”
Hanchett, by the way, is author of this book, one of the best books on southern urban history I’ve ever read. And he’s exactly right; this is just the latest predictable step in Charlotte’s seemingly endless quest to become the most bland and sterile city in the entire southeastern United States.