Vanessa is Coming! Vanessa is Coming!

...and I'm trying to bring some semblance of order to the apartment before she gets here. This morning, the bedroom was so messy I actually had the following conversation with myself:

"Where do I start? Well, if I put on my shoes, that will be two things that aren't taking up space on the floor..."

In other news:


I finished knitting and blocking Tom's scarf. I'll add the fringe sometime in the next few days during a late-night conversation with Vanessa (fringe is kinda boring).

I went to the yarn store on Saturday, found a darning needle, and bought only a little bit of yarn (it was on sale). I spent about an hour sitting and talking to the women knitting there. One was from Canada, and she wished me luck. Turns out that if you're going to have a spell of nausea and need to sit down, a yarn store is a good store to do it in. Everyone was very nice.

Anna loves me. She sent me cookies. I've been eating them very slowly, due to the bouts of nausea. Anna, they did not melt and they're very yummy. Furthermore, you have better taste in boxes than Vanessa (We shall not discuss what kind of box Vanessa used to send me cookies last fall. I was amused.)

It turns out that, after a session alone in a room with a few professors and a chalk board, Patrick is indeed qualified to continue his pursuit of a doctorate in mathematics. If only those professors had asked me, I could have given them proof of his mathematical ability.

Exhibit A: A recipe card for Colcannon, which I was going to make for a large St. Patrick's Day dinner we threw second year.



Exhibit B: What Patrick produced when asked, "Patrick, could you write down the amounts for a doubled recipe, so we know how much to get at the store?"


As you can see, he doubled the potatoes, failed to double the cabbage, and then just...gave up. I just about died, I was laughing so hard.

Congratulations, Podraig. I knew you could do it.

Alice the roommate is my hero of the day for (after I'd spent an hour and fifteen minutes setting up our internet) dealing with the second crisis of the day, which was a blown fuse. And she brought me ginger ale for my stomach.

(The following paragraph may not be appropriate for those with great fears of blood and yucky stuff. Just to let you know, Heavens.)

In other news: it turns out that I'm allergic to latex bandages. Or something. Anyway, I have some nasty wounds around my blood-test bruise where the bandage pulled off the skin. It looks like someone spilled hydrochloric acid on my arm or something.

More stories to come, of course, after Vanessa's visit. I have plans, if she's not too busy looking at apartments. They involve both Giordano's and the Art Institute.