1. You're driving on the road and you pass something on the side of the road that looks suspiciously like a body wrapped in a carpet.

2. You're shopping for cereal at the grocery store and you wonder if the police will come calling one day because your fingerprints are all over a box of cereal found in the trash of a bad guy who skipped town and had to be traced by complex garbage analysis.

3. Every time you see a cable truck you wonder if it might be a bad guy on a stakeout or maybe a good guy staking out the bad guy that is staking out in the cable truck you passed a block back.

4. You pause when the light turns green in case a high speed chase might go racing by.

5. You consider collecting experimental data about on-the-fly algorithms for deciding how to get home from the yarn store in the most efficient way based on which lights are red.

Ok maybe that last one is not so much about too much tv watching and a little more about too much researching. Best to just stick with starting new knitting projects. Coincidentally I was having a last minute doubt about 'too much' vs 'to much' so I did a google search on "too much" just to make sure (the grammer by populr google opinion method) and the 4th hit was about having too much wool. Not that that can actually happen.

Ok so I know I haven't posted in a while but I've been in a bit of a funny happenings dry spell. Anyway, this afternoon I went out and bought a space heater because even though I managed to put some screws that didn't really fit into the door to hold on the metal piece that changes the space under my door from about 1/2 of an inch to -1/4 of an inch it was still cold in here. So, I came home and plugged it in and was working away and all of a sudden the lights went out. At first I thought it was a power outage, but then, thanks to my useful habit of leaving all the lights in my apartment turned on, I noticed that the lights in the bedroom and bathroom were still on. I used my powers of deduction to deduce that I must have blown a fuse. And the adventure begins.

The first hardware store I went to was closed so I went to the hardware store with the scary parking lot - desperate times call for desperate measures. I managed to sneak my car into a parking spot without mishap and got into the store and bought some fuses but then when I was walking out I noticed a woman in a large station wagon who was moving back and forth about 3 feet at a time at an odd sort of angle in the spot next to the one my car was in. Apparently she couldn't figure out how to fit her car into this spot, perhaps her steering wheel doesn't go all the way around - either metaphorically or literally.

So, I came home and took out the fuse marked "living room" where all the lights are out, and took a new fuse out of the box. Oh look it's the wrong size. I bought the fuses that have threads at the same width as the fuse part and the fuses I need are actually narrower at the bottom. Back to the hardware store. Noting this time that the station wagon is parked in such a way as to take up three parking spots and is accompanied by a car parked half in a snow bank and another one parked half on the curb. Anyway, I grabbed the correct sized fuses and exchanged them for the ones I bought only moments before and on my way out of the parking lot I was nearly run over by someone under the impression that the most convenient lane is the one she ought to drive in regardless of its side.

Ok, back home again. Replace the fuse. Nothing. Hmmm. After much walking back and forth and plugging and unplugging and screwing and unscrewing I discovered that the fuse labeled "living room" is actually one outlet located near the air conditioner that isn't even three prong. The rest of the living room (including the air conditioner) is on the same fuse as the kitchen. It is also interesting to note that this single plug with no ground is on a 20 amp fuse and the shared fuse for the rest of the outlets is only 15 amps.

So finally after much traveling back and forth and fiddling in the dark I managed to get it all fixed all by myself :).

Ok so today was a beautiful, warm, fall day and I have lots of reading to do so I thought to myself, "I should stroll out to a coffee shop and sit and sip a latte and do some reading." Not that I need to bribe myself to keep up with the reading, "Computational Complexity Theory," "Introduction to the Theory of Computation" and "Theory of Computational Complexity" (theorists are nothing if not creative) are obviously riveting texts. So I headed out and over to the nearest shopping center to find that the "cafe" is actually a sandwich shop with less ambiance than the laundry room. Next! The next nearest establishment which purports to serve cappuccino according to the large lettering painted in the window (in a not exactly serene but friendly way) turned out to be a noisy diner looking sort of place - also not exactly conducive to sipping and reading. Next!

Well, I live in a mostly residential area and having exhausted the nearby shopping centers I decided to start walking towards central campus, surely there will be coffee down there. So I walked, and walked, and walked some more, and all I passed were houses. Finally I arrived downtown and I was distracted from my coffee search (partly because I was now quite warm and, admittedly, partly because I wasn't really that interested in reading in the first place) by a bookstore that I passed. I have several patches on my book bag and I've been wanting to get a UM patch to add to the collection. Well, the first bookstore was a bust. They had a few random t-shirts and a guy shopping with his girlfriend, "it's going to shrink [insert trailing off voice]" "are you sure? it says preshrunk" "it will shrink." Now can I just point out that if the guy was telling the girl that it was going to shrink there would then ensue a lengthy discussion about whether or not he was trying to insinuate that she was fat. I decided it was best to make my exit before he figured that out.

After all that walking and the inevitable wait for the bus to get to north campus for my class, I decided it would be best to just go to the official campus book store - surely they would have plenty of UM paraphernalia. So, I whipped out my map and made my way to the Student Union which is an impressively large, stone building with lots of people coming in and out - "this looks promising" I thought to myself. So I went up the steps, opened the door, walked in, and ... nothing. Big empty hallways. Echoing sounds coming from around a corner. Not exactly the warm welcome I was hoping for. So I wandered around and found a map attached to a wall in a sort of this is the union so we have to admit that there are useful things here but we don't want to interfere with the posh, albeit cold decor. Ahhh, the store is on the first floor.

So I went down to the first floor and into the bookstore. To be confronted with a pitiful section of t shirts and baby socks. Where is the school spirit? "show your support for blue by wearing maize" [brief pause while we all wonder which flighty freshman won the school spirit contest with that winning phrase]. Where is the maize? And more importantly where are all the novelty items like patches and key chains? I walked all the way there and nothing! Apparently I am meant to wander in and out of the shops around town looking for such items since the book store appears to be devoted mostly to the selling of actual books. I got out my map again (this time slightly less enthusiastically) and made my way to the nearest bus stop. When I did finally make it to north campus I had a peanut butter mocha (which really does taste like a liquid peanut butter cup). I recommend it highly to anyone having a bad day. Or even anyone having a pretty good day who just wandered all over town only to be discouraged by capitalism. Governmentally located coffee shops and the mandated selling of more stuff with big M's on it!

Ok so Friday started out as a pretty normal day. Laying in bed thinking in that half sleep sort of logical way "if I'm awake but still laying in bed it doesn't really count as sleeping in and it won't mess up my sleep patterns because I really did `get up' when my alarm went off - at least in mind if not also in body." So I did stuff in the morning and early afternoon (obviously productive sorts of things that I can quite remember or I would enumerate them now) and went to the ultra informative definition listing discussion for computational complexity in the afternoon. Really, copying definitions from the chalk board as the TA writes them and then reads them to us is a perfect Friday 3rd grade nostalgia sort of experience. To bad I forgot that lined paper with the two top and bottom solid lines and the dashed one in the middle for the short letters, at least that way I could have worked on my penmanship. Anyway, during all of my productiveness and packing to go to the 'rents for the weekend (for celebratory chocolate cake :) ) I did not get much lunch.

I stopped for gas on the way home and when I went into the "convenience store" I discovered that there was a line for both the restroom and to buy snacks so instead I decided to run across the parking lot to the Arby's. The people in the Arby's were both friendly and entertaining - there was a kid just finishing his "dude, that was a long day dude, I mean what a day dude, nonstop!" shift. So I ordered some curly fries and a drink and the man who appeared to be in charge "accidentally" gave me a shake instead of a soda. Wow, what a nice way to officially start the weekend - with a coffee/chocolate flavored shake. So, I grabbed a straw and my food and went back to the car. A few minutes later when I went to take a slurp of my shake I noticed that the straw felt a little odd in my mouth, "hmmm that's strange - this straw feels a bit smaller than usual." I think I must have grabbed some kind of wrapped coffee stirrer disguised as a straw. Oh man! The torture of having a shake right there with no way to get it into my mouth. I slurped really hard but not having had to suck my drinks out of my cup since graduating from sippy cups to cups without lids as a child my sucking muscles seem to be a bit out of shape. I waited a while and drank a bit of the melted part but it really wasn't the same. Obviously this is a lesson in what happens when you don't keep backup dessert eating utensils in the glove box.

Well I have no funny stories at this time, there was an incident involving a large book and a small sandwich but I think you can all figure out how that ended. I did finally finish up my masters up on Monday but unfortunately my magic wand (the one that causes homework do itself or makes dirty dishes disappear - scientifically of course) seems to be on back order. I suppose that means that I will have to keep taking theorem proving naps rather than entering the one tap thinking theorem thoughts mode that such a wand should certainly come equipped to provide. I do however have a letter opener that I found when I was moving - if you are not using a letter opener to open your mail you are missing out! I know that many of you were unenthused by my (non-mechanical) pencil campaign, but I assure you this one is even better. There is a satisfying slicing/tearing sound as you open the letter, kind of like the satisfying thwack sound that comes from hitting annoying people over the head with a hollow cardboard tube, only much more socially acceptable. Not that I have had much experience hitting people (annoying or otherwise) over the head with hollow cardboard tubes but I am quite sure the thwacking sound would be satisfying. Plus, the envelope stays in a useful envelope shape and is akin to a useful put to put things in, although probably not pre-equipped with a broken balloon. Anyway, rather than sitting and staring into space while waiting for more funny stories you should all dig out your letter openers and open some letters! Well, without any flailing about, we don't want any Mr Green in the drawing room with the letter opener incidents.

Michigan Time is an interesting scheduling phenomenon whereby all classes start 10 minutes after their published starting time. Officially. So, for example, if your class is from 10 to 11 it's actually from 10:10 to 11. On Friday I had a computational complexity lab from 3:30 to 4:30 (or so I thought) . I got home from the grocery store at about 2:15 and I was having a snack and I was planning to catch the 2:50 bus which would get me to school at about 3:15 in plenty of time for class. At about 2:40 I decided to glance at the syllabus to see where the class was and I noticed that it said lab is from 3 to 4. 3! Oh man, there's no time to ride the bus, I better ride my bike! So I jumped on my bike and peddled about half way to school (at least this time I rode on the side of the street that's shady, which, surprisingly enough, makes the hill not that bad, but which also has huge 'construction ahead' signs that you either have to duck under or swerve around (those of you who know my record are probably thinking to yourselves "this is a disaster waiting to happen" but fear not, it was an accident free commute)) when I realized that if the class starts at 3, it really starts at 3:10 which means I probably could have ridden the bus and gotten off at an earlier stop (it's only the TA run lab after all) or at least peddled at a more leisurely pace. Anyway, I got there at about 2:59 and went up to class via the water fountain and when I got there, the room was empty. So I sat down and started reading my book when finally another student came in and said "this lab is at 3:30, right?" (meaning it's actually at 3:40). So I pulled out the schedule that I printed from the registrars office, oh look at that, class is at 3:30 just like I originally thought.

Ok, so I was out running errands and I thought to myself, my phone hasn't been working quite right for a while, plus I need a michigan number (after all I finally memorized my apartment address, so I need a new scrap of paper floating around with my cell number on it to replace the address scrap that I finally lost), so I should stop and get that fixed. I stopped at the kiosk in the mall (where the sales people seem to be more interested in testing the technology than actually selling it) and they told me where the nearest store with a customer service center is. So, I drove across town, went into the store and stood in line for about half an hour. I explained to they nice man behind the counter that whenever I dial a number or try to send a text message my phone has a brief identity crisis and looses contact with the outside world (or the nearest tower as the case may be). I've tried making encouraging comments about triangulating and meditating on the signal - ET phone home, but it doesn't seem to work. So, the nice man behind the counter explains to me that I am using old software on my phone, he can upgrade it but the computer is busy now (flossing? crafting poetry? we're not sure). He will get me a new number first. He types some stuff, scribbles some stuff on paper, types, clicks, types, asks me for my number half a dozen times and eventually gives me the number of "ez move" so that I can call and take care of it myself. Ok, so back to the "upgrade." I offered to leave my phone and go do some shopping (at the conveniently located Super K-Mart in the adjacent parking lot with a surprisingly long sleeved / cheap t-shirt section). An hour later I stroll back into the phone store and wait in line for another half hour. The other friendly gentlemen behind the counter grabs my phone "I have some bad news." Oh dear. "We finished the upgrade but now your screen is messed up." Messed up being the technical term for the screen being a scrambled mess of black and white pixels which are successfully encrypting any information that would normally be displayed. So, after lots more typing and clicking and asking me for my number I got a replacement phone. And now all is well, except that I think I might have lost the scrap with my apartment phone number on it and I definitely haven't memorized that one yet.