signals and standards

[phthalombrage]

In the final minutes of work, as I'm descending the concrete stairs of the Wean 3300 corridor, my phone rings, unwelcome. I think I must have said two words on the trip to Henry St. apart from the initial "I'm finishing work right now, on an errand, can talk." I was completely silent on the way back until I passed Cyert, and my mom asked if I was "still theyah or did you put the phone to yuh ass." She just kept going on and on, for an hour and a half, until the KGB meeting was underway, about so many awful things. Apparently my last remaining cat is running out of 1UPs. We got her when I was in first grade, and she was already supposedly two years old, so she's kinda old anyway. She was spitting up blood on my mom's pillow on Sunday, after refusing to eat any food whatsoever for over a week. And the pipes are leaking and the plumber can't find where, the water bill is too high, the plumber was hinting to her that the house was too cluttahed but when she starts to clean it triggers her asthma and makes her more depressed and it's impossible to clean this place, guess you just have to staht ovah, dad doesn't like the idea of her starting ovah in a new house by herself, my dad bought a Harley and a new phone, they found his lost phone when it was too late to cancel the contract but she didn't even check into it, they pay so much for cable and the broken huge TV he bought is still just sitting on the flo-ah, they only use three of the five boxes they pay for, all he does is work and sleep and wouldn't pick up Brian because Brian's car is broken and his friends broke a hard drive and deleted two films they had made and didn't back up, and he wouldn't look aftah Baby and he doesn't want her to come with him when he visits me ovah spring break, and he would clean things so much bettah when he was still on pot, but it's good he isn't now and has a good job even though he spends all his money and grandma may put in her eye drops herself after all, I think she wanted me to stay up theyah with her all summah and be miserable and take care of her and are you happy more than sad, Nicole? Because I am not. blah blah blah blah. The only good thing? The bird is okay. Well. Glad to hear that.

So I couldn't bring myself to do much of anything for a couple hours. It was good fun. But the rest of the evening was all right. Life's amazing self-repair capabilities, I wonder how long these will last. Made up for the sad dinner I had had earlier by eating half price with Mallory and Chris.

It's fun to be in 211 with Rauhit. Today he won a Snickers for being the first to volunteer to present his solution to a box-stacking DP problem on the board, and said, "I don't normally eat candy, but when it's given to be by Kesden, I will eat it." Kind of a questionable policy, no? Then when the next group was presenting a solution they thought was better, one of the group members silenced Rauhit's criticisms with the observation that, "you have... caramel... all over your face already." The kid bolted, calling behind him that he wants to hear out their reasoning, and quickly returns after a very brief washing-up. But it got me to thinking. It's cute when the precocious kid who's not even a teenager and can do dynamic programming has candy smeared on his face. It's kind of like a very competent boy king charged with the clockwork workings of his kingdom, but who still needs someone else to tie his shoes for him. It's less cute when glisson eats a sandwich and ends up with mayonnaise-adorned cheeks. It is very un-cute when an even older guy with a beard has rotting food matted into the beard. There are different standards.