To Bagel Or Not To Bagel, Part III

So I was hungry this morning and it's Friday. That means I deserve a bagel, right? Wrong. We're going out for lunch today, to celebrate my friend Smitha's escape from this company. (She got a job with the City). Which means I don't deserve a whole bagel, which would fill my tummy.

As a compromise, I ate a chocolate croissant from Au Bon Pain. It was freshly-baked; I could tell because the chocolate was all melty. It was tres delicious.

(no subject)

It used to be on LiveJournal that if you looked at the comments on someone's post, and then someone added another comment, the link would stay the same "you've already looked at this" color. Which meant I had to remember how many comments had been there, so that I didn't look at the same stuff twice. Today they've changed something, because when someone adds a new comment, the link turns back to the "you haven't looked at this yet" color.

Does this mean that when we try to link to entries, you'll only get to see what comments were there at the time you made the link?

And also -- I've wished that things were this way for some time. And yet, now that this glorious day is finally here . . . I feel as though something fishy is going on.

Spring cleaning

I've cleared 194 messages from my Sent and Inbox folders, and sent them RIGHT TO THE TRASH FOLDER, BABY! Rah me.

Severe lack of work ethic

I haven't had actual work to do in months. Yesterday they gave me two things to work on and . . . I don't know how. I don't know how to work anymore. I'll work for three minutes, and then go check my email, and my LiveJournal, and other stuff . . . how awful. It's their own damn fault, though.

Fern01

Last night was rather productive. I didn't go the dry cleaner's, or do laundry, or go to the food store, which are all things that I had (kind of) intended to do. But my bong is now sparkly-clean and beautiful, whereas before it was pretty-dirty and only nice-looking. And also, I LEARNED things last night. Man, how often do I do THAT these days? Not very.

Ooh!

I burnt my tongue last night on the sauce of a Freschetta pizza. It hoits!

Lift etiquette

I don't like it when I'm on the elevator next to the buttons, and someone gets on, and reaches in front of me to press their own button, instead of asking me to do it. I think it's rude. I'm obviously standing by the buttons because I like to press buttons. This person has not only denied me my only pleasure in life, he's insulted me by insinuating that I might screw up and press the wrong button.

I also don't like it when a person looks at the button for his floor, sees that it's already illuminated, and goes ahead and presses it anyway. As though the elevator is keeping track of how many people to let off on the 5th floor.

Oh, and one more thing -- I spent three months in England, and didn't pick up a sexy accent or even foreign speech patterns. I'm terribly unexotic. But the one genuine blunder I made was in Newark Airport, right when I got home: we were standing around figuring out the easiest way to get to the parking garage (damn, I can't even remember what they call "parking lot" in England, but I remember it's funny), and I pointed towards some elevators and said, "we can take the lift." Jeff looked at me and said something like "that's called an elevator in this country," I don't remember exactly, it was a while ago.