Random Thursday . . . On Wednesday!

(see what I did there?  I mean, how random can you get?)


The owner* of the bakery down the block from the library likes to mix it up a little with the Daily Featured Flavors.

Today he offered a strawberry-cheese danish muffin.  Good flavor, odd texture—had to try another one to make sure.

But for sheer weirdness, nothing beats the pistaschio-mocha-chocolate chunk muffin I sampled on St. Patrick’s Day.    It looked like uncured peat moss—which I guess is sort of Irish—and it tasted . . . exactly like a pistaschio-mocha-chocolate chunk muffin.


I spent three hours at work yesterday trying to find the year that the state started issuing driver’s licenses.  Managed to narrow it down to somewhen between 1903 and 1959, though examinations probably started in 1931, if I’m reading the section history of the current state codes correctly.  And that’s a toss up.

So I finally admitted defeat and offered the patron contact info for the state historical society, the nearest university law library, and the state DMV.

Sometimes, “I don’t know” is a perfectly valid answer.

Except now I want to know.

And this is why I never ask patrons why they want to know.

Because I already know.

You know?


My new favorite clean joke:**

A college professor walks into a bar.  “Bring me a martinus,” he says.

The bartender smiles politely and asks, “You mean martini?”

“If I want more than one,” snaps the professor, “I’ll order them.”



My new-found resolve is being tested: The Torchwood DVDs I reserved have all come in. But I managed 1,200 words of new material last night without the distraction of John Barrowman and Gareth David-Lloyd, so they all went back.

Besides, it was tough enough putting The Key down . . .

I did play a computer game before dinner, but I maintain that this doesn’t count because a) I was only  dragging the pointer for Sunny, who can click and move the pointer, but not at the same time; b) the game involved giving Barbie numerous fashion makeovers, and; d) I bailed as soon as my maternal instincts were overwhelmed by having to give Barbie numerous fashion makeovers.


Janie and I are going shopping for Sunny’s birthday presents tonight as soon as I post this.

We know exactly what Sunny wants and Janie is fully aware that we’re shopping for her sister and not her sister’s sister.

And I am fully aware that I’m on a budget and the peanut is having two parties and will not suffer for gift—so I don’t have to buy everything in sight lest she feel unloved.

I figure that’ll last until we reach the store—the path to Toys R Us is paved with good intentions.


*He looks like he belongs on the crossover episode of American Chopper and  Miami Ink, but he has some mad piping skills  and sells frosting shots in ice cream cones.

**My favorite dirty joke involves a penguin and a mechanic.  Nope, that’s all you get.