Because I am marking assignments...

... of course I have new (unrelated) fun links to share with you.

Currently making me laugh out loud.

GOOD NEWS, EVERYONE! (Miscellaneous Futurama reference. Don't mind me.)

Our mechanic says he can fix everything (plus some*) for $225. This is approximately a tenth of what I was expecting. How is this possible? He also said we need repairs to the driveshaft, but it's not urgent, not dangerous, and if he were us, he'd wait another year or so.

Good thing Geekman was the one who took the car in, because I would have been overcome with an inappropriate display of joy.

Coincidentally, I have a nice bottle of wine in the cupboard and a free evening with which to celebrate. Oh wait, no: I have a stack of 70 assignments in my bag and an evening with which to get caught up on marking.

Boo.
___________

* Some being the pre-existing slow leak in one of the tyres.

Random bullets of the capital city of a large country shouldn't be this small

I changed doctors recently - partly because the university clinic now charges me money since I'm no longer a student, but also partly because the random doctor they gave me last time turned out to be someone I knew socially (without realising they were a doctor) and that was a little bit odd.

The new doctor I went to (who I picked at random from a list of doctors that bulk bill Medicare) turns out to have one of my students working as his receptionist.

I went to a party hosted by someone in my department recently, and her housemate had invited a friend, who happened to be the twin sister of someone who works with Geekman. At the same party was an American guy who used to read this blog, and has since moved to Australia.

Another party I attended a couple of weeks ago was for a friend who is not and never has been at the university or connected with it. A guy at that party who I had never met before sat in the corner and picked his nose aggressively all night. The next day we went to the house of one of Geekman's colleagues for lunch and the nose-picker was there as well.

At the same lunch was someone who looked kind of familiar, and turned out to have been a colleague of Stellar_Muddle's (who sometimes comments here).

We went to a "games night" run by a colleague of Geekman's a few weeks back, and someone else she had invited was someone I know from the university rock climbing club.

Possible explanations that have occurred to me include the following:

• Maybe this is just what happens if you live in a city for long enough. (We've been here four years now, which is the longest I've lived anywhere since I was a kid.)
• The circles we move in are a lot smaller than the actual size of the city. E.g. mostly we hang out with people who have some connection to the university. That doesn't explain Nosepicker, or the doctor thing, though.
• This city only actually has 30 inhabitants. The government just claims higher figures because otherwise it's too embarrassing. (This explanation has the advantage of also explaining why downtown is always mysteriously empty).

Why I sit quietly and wait for my turn, apparently

Waiting at the Motor Registry to get new license plates, I overheard the woman next to me explaining good behaviour to her toddler.

"You have to sit on your bottom, not climb all over the seats."

"No. Sit on your bottom. Otherwise you'll have to have a time out."

"Sit. On. Your. Bottom. You see that man over there behind the counter? He'll come over and tell you off and put you in time out."

"See the lady sitting there?" (Points at me.) "SHE is sitting on HER bottom. She's afraid of the man behind the counter and doesn't want him to be angry at her and put her in time out."

Transportless

And on top of all this, when I went back today to fetch my bike from the library, where I had left it with its flat tyre, I found some fucker had destroyed the back wheel.

My current addictions on zefrank.com

...are these two toys.

Pissed off

Last night some arsehole broke into our car, ruined the front passenger side lock, stole the gearstick and the license plates, and did something nasty to the steering. Fortunately there weren't any valuables in it, although they ate the emergency chocolate stash in the glove box.

Why did they want the gearstick, for god's sake?

And my bike got another flat tyre. Gah.

Window into marriage in the 1930s

This "marital rating scale" from 1939 is amazing in all sorts of ways.

Some surprising excerpts:

The man gets points for "consulting wife about business affairs", turning over the "whole paycheck" to her, and helping with housework and childcare. He gets 20 points for making sure his wife has an orgasm whenever they have sex. He gets "demerits" for not getting dressed on Sundays, and for "writing on the tablecloth with a pencil." (Is pen better? And was this really a common problem?)

The woman gets demerits for wearing red nail polish, "wearing pajamas while cooking", failing to wash the top of the milk bottle before opening it, walking around the house in stockinged feet, and "taking dope".

She gets points for being able to "carry on an interesting conversation" (good little wifey), "keeping snacks in the refrigerator for late night eating", and being "jolly and gay".

Then there's the complaints that I've still heard people making today:

• Calls, "Where is the - " without looking for it first. (Man)
  
• Leaves dresser drawers open. (Man)
  
• Squeezes toothpaste from the top. (Man)
  
• Puts cold feet on husband at night to warm them. (Woman)
  

More free advice

When you start feeling the need to discuss your prostate problems at departmental meetings, it's time to retire.

Some free advice

If someone sends you a sensitive email about someone in your professional circles having a terminal illness, and if that email mentions that the news is top secret, you probably shouldn't print it out and leave it lying on the departmental printer all day.

Random bullets of women exist only to incubate your spawn

If there is a men's cabin and a women's cabin at a workshop/retreat, how come the couple plus (male) three-month-old baby automatically go in the women's cabin?

If a young childless/free woman mentions that she was kept awake by a crying baby, the response, "Oh well, that's good practice for later!" is just SO not appropriate. Especially if you are one of the older male academics who got to have the baby-free cabin and a good night's sleep.

Geekman once asked my mother why she cared so much about whether and when we had children. After searching a bit for an answer she finally came up with, "Because it's normal. It's what normal people do. I want you to be normal."

It's nice to know that my mother has such high ambitions for us. I think I'm probably a disappointment: normality not being high on my priority list.

Speaking of my mother, she sent me a really spectacularly sweet email on Sunday. Admittedly it started off by reminding me it was Mother's Day and I hadn't sent her anything (but damn, since she's now forgotten my birthday two years running, I thought I'd get a free pass). But then the email went into reminiscences of how excited she was when I was born and when they first brought me home and what a lovely baby I was. I feel vaguely guilty for how suspicious I am about what could possibly have motivated this.

Here is a picture of a totally unrelated garden shed: