April 5th, 2004

Wedding day

Stupid Visa RED....

Nothing special to report over the weekend, I suppose. Tom came into town for the Wisconsin Film Festival, and spent Saturday night on our couch. I'd given up on seeing any films, but I did go to the screenwriters' panel discussion, which, despite the presence of Lone Scherfig and some other guy involved with Dogme95, was totally useless:

Moderator: As a man, what is your main concern when writing a female character?
Some guy: Um, I dunno, but I just wanna say: H... B... O. Some of the best TV you're gonna find out there, people. Watch Oz. Now that is some nice television. Effin' art. Oh, is it okay if I say effin'?
That's unusual -- the panel discussions, especially that one, are usually worth the time.

Ellen came over in the evening. We hung out with Tom and had supper at Stillwaters. On Sunday, I went to visit evil_jim. We recently ordered stuff from Homestarrunner.com and split the shipping. It came on Friday, so I brought him his Kick-A-The-Cheat doll, Strong Bad Sings CD and Homsar t-shirt. It was nice to see that he's found a use for some of those Post-It!™ notes. He built the shrine to the swine I suggested, and his car now has eyebrows. Really noisy eyebrows. We also jump-started Jim's car. The last time I jump-started a car was quite some time ago, so it's nice to know that I can do it, should the need ever arise. I'd like to have a talk with GM about where car should go, but I guess maybe I should just be thankful that I don't drive a Japanese car which would require me to move the entire engine block first.

This morning when I got in to work, the first thing I noticed were the balloons. Everybody in my department has a red balloon floating above their desk, and the dry erase board had the words "HAPPY RED!" written on it. It took me a long time to even figure out what it meant, and when I did I felt pretty stupid for not having guessed, though there were plenty of other people who asked if I knew what the balloons meant. It's boring and work specific, and you won't be interested, but I'll place an explanation Collapse ) I sat down at my desk, checked my voicemail, and somebody had left me an eleven-minute recording of chewing, punctuated by the occasional sip of soda (or something). For eleven minutes. Somebody has too much free time on their hands. More free time than me, even.
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