not much to say
Not much to say today. Went on a 13.5 mile bike ride last night, am starving today. Well, the starving thing isn’t new, and it’d probably be alleviated if I went and got some breakfast, but I got up late and had to get into a meeting right away.
I am officially a college student again. I’ve been accepted to UAA as an art student. I wonder if I’ll be able to find time to actually take classes.
Emailing Terry Moore to ask permission to use some SiP images on LYFA.
Had an extremely surreal conversation with Deborah Lupo yesterday. The world is a strange place.
Uhm. Off to work now, I guess. Vroom.
Deborah Donoghue. Donoghue. :)
No, no, see, this is the advantage to knowing people before they got married. You get to refer to them by their maiden names for the rest of eternity. Eventually, your habit of doing this will drive your children nuts. My Mom does this all the time: “Anne Wells,” she says, then pauses, clarifies, “Tibideau,” as if, after twenty years, or in fact after eight years, which is about how old I was when I no longer needed the clarification, I don’t know that Anne Wells is Anne Tibideau, and then carries on with her sentence, much as I have done with this one, in a Dickensian fashion, with far more parenthetical statements inserted by the not-necessarily-judicious use of commas rather than actual parantheses.
Although Deborah Donoghue is a rather nice name. It sounds like a soap opera star’s name. :)
*snort* Deborah Does Dallas, Dignified-Like.
Deborah Anne Donoghue – my fear in getting married was that I’d be called Dad by everyone. Or Deedee. No one has tried it.
(That’s not an invitation to try it. :))