Long Lost

Wow…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?  yeesh.

Still at PSU (future to be determined about 3/31, they say), trying to put my ducks in a row, and figure out what’s next, should things change.

No relationships on the horizon…then again, it was a decade between Jamie and Laurie (weirdly, I hope to spend time with Lori…keeps things easy to remember, I guess)…she’s had two spinal fusions, and can’t drive, but is still the oddly cynical girl I remember (other than Laurie, Lori was the only one I had a second date with))

Next up…re-doing the kitchen…no more Avacado!!!

Next term…classes until 6 or 8, depending on the day…yay?

It never changes

I’m working without a contract.  The union (I’m a member) finds out tomorrow, and I teach on Tuesday…my students need it, because it’s required to graduate, and I’ve got at least students have all the requirements finished except Diffusion In Solids.

Remembrance Day

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
— John McCrae

Another Monday, another term

Weirdly, they didn’t give me my normal teaching slot (the ‘early’ one, 10-N), putting me in with the 2-4 krew.  No worries, there.  Also, Tuesday-Thursday, so we get Tgiving off, which is nice.
So, I signed my halftime offer letter, which is being altered as we speak because it violates the union contract.  Plus much chicken being played.  I keep wondering if they expect me to work 60-70 hours a week at halftime.  Hrm.

Back to reading MSDSs.  Methanol’s is terrifying.

Throwing hand grenades in a phone booth

So, I’m talking to the Department Head tomorrow…this whole contract thing has run on two parallel paths (since no one is talking to the MSE Head)…I asked a number of questions vis a vis using my research salary to make my baseline salary high enough to have benefits (traditionally, research funding is in the hands of the faculty, not the administration), but the fundamental question I asked:

” Am I being forced from the MME department and MSE group, and if so, why? It is difficult to see continuous salary/FTE drops and *not* ask that question.”

I’ll know more tomorrow by 10.  I don’t expect anything resembling a solid answer.

W-week?

Well, it looks like this week will be the one where people figure out what my contract for next year will look like; it appears I have a fallback minimum contract, but I’m not going to sign that until the politics work their way out.

Mongo just pawn in game of life…

ooooh…pictures!!!

So, had my ultrasound on my kidneys/bladder.  “Boy, that’s a big bladder” is all I got.  No clue whether the kidneys are fucked up.  Got my blood/urine tests, and I’m still too high on Creatinine and BUN, so there’s something.  I was hoping for a “HH” on my 24 hour volume…ah, well.

The doc was supposed to be reading the US first thing in the morning…and I haven’t heard anything, so I’m guessing it’s off to the nephrologist.  woot?

But I pee so *well*!!!!

They’re emissions-related.

So, I get all gooed up tomorrow so they can ultrasound my lungs kidneys…I hope at least one of them’s a boy. I’m wearing an XL shirt, to attempt to avoid Hospital Gown Inappropriate Male Reaction.

And then the car gets to go in for DEQ. Remember when I hit the bump so hard it knocked off the hardtop…it also broke off one of the tailpipes. I think I’ll just have ’em either flange it or test it as is, as it didn’t get any louder. Plus a miss at 2000 rpm, and a really funny fluctuation of the tach. But it’s *only* 13 years old!!

Then again, I’m way older, and they’ve become interested in my exhaust pipes. Ratzenfrackin creatinine and BUN. Sadly, it’s not *my* doc, so I can’t ask about the eight liters of delicious urine I produced on command.

Meh, I say, meh.

Two years.

So, this morning, at 8:10, I took off our rings.  Originally, it was going to be one year, but it didn’t feel right.  Today, it did.  The necklace is hanging in my office at home, where I’ll see it every day, but won’t have it hanging, physically or metaphorically over me.

Two years.  Part of me feels like it’s flown by.  Part feels like it’s been forever.  But I’ll always miss her, and the light she brought to my life.  I was incredibly lucky to know her, to marry her, and to love her.  She was the most relentlessly upbeat person I have ever met…I’m still still trying to learn from her.

ticketa-tackata…sploosh.

There’s something semi-surreal about keeping a days worth of your own urine in the fridge.  I have no idea what they can learn from a 24-hour sample.  I learned a few things; my morning constitutional goes about a liter and a half, and on a ‘normal’ day, I can fill two 4-liter containers.  (I asked for a second…I’s a geeenius)

I think they just dump it all out–it’s just there to show I’m serious about medical treatment.  Either that, or very complicated practical jokes.  Haven’t heard anything about it, so all must be well.  Yes, indeedy.