An Open Letter to My Homegirls Who Are About to Get Married

Dear Randi Knott and Missy/Melissa/Mimi/Mittens Pringle,

So you're getting married. I'm truly happy for each of you! But, before you take the plunge there is something I would like for you to consider: Please, PLEASE keep your maiden names. More than just feminists are doing it these days. You two make the best candidates imaginable. You each have something great to lose.

Randi with an "i" is a woman's name, I agree. R. Knott. Hehe. I would definitely miss that. It always makes me smile. You wouldn't want to make me frown, would you? Please keep the R. Knott!

Missy, the way you purchase a mini-sized can of Pringles on road trips is comic genius. Those of us who know you now get the joke. But what about the friends you haven't met yet? For the sake of your future friends, please keep the Pringle.

In closing, I urge you to be a trend setter. I suppose this request only applies to the first one of you to decide to keep your maiden name. The other, I urge to follow. You don't want people to think you're weird, do you?

Sincerely,
Patti Yager

Curious Day

Lab started this morning at 8:30. I woke up at 9. Apparently, my phone (I use it as an alarm clock) needs to be turned off occasionally rather than being left on 24/7 for months at a time. I quickly pulled myself together, and scooted off to class. I walked in the door of Malott at 9:13. That has to be a record!

About an hour later, as I was going down the ramp to Haworth in a wheelchair (lab), I saw the year's first snow flakes. It somehow looked both blustery and tranquil at the same time.

Then this afternoon the funniest thing that ever happened in class went down. We were learning about Tourette's Syndrome and the instructor had a video for us to watch. Tourette's is the infamous disease in which 25% of the sufferers yell obscenities. They often have both physical and verbal tics. The purpose of the video was to show us what Tourette's patients go through on a daily basis. It featured several patients being interviewed about their disease. It was interesting. The first patient was a young woman who was quietly and respectfully answering a question asked by the interviewer. BUT her sentences were sprinkled with the F word at a high volume. That was strange enough, but then a white haired professor peeked his head in the door of our lecture hall. He said that the audio was being broadcast in his room as well. I laugh just picturing how that class must have gone. There was uproar for about 5 minutes. Hilarious.

Lost Mittens

No, this has nothing to do with Missy unless of course she knows where my mittens are. Sometime between Saturday night and Monday morning I lost my beloved mittens. I meant, these are the the PERFECT mittens. I had them pictured in my mind before I ever saw them. Navy blue polar fleece mittens with Thinsulate. They match my coat. I shopped many places looking for them and then one day I spotted them where I would least expect to find such a pair of mittens: at Aldi as I was buying cheap groceries. We endured two harsh winters together and were very happy.

The point: I lost my mittens to which I have an unhealthy attachment. Please let me know if you find them. I would probably be willing to pay a small ransom. It's cold scootin'.

Falling Leaves

Think of them as confetti.

OR, alternatively

Think of them as weapons of assault which target two-wheeled vehicles.

I was struck by leaves twice in my first autumn as a scooter chick. The first happened as I sped down Emery towards 9th Street. Emery is very steep and winds a lot in that area. A leaf fell in just such a way that it lodged between my face and the right lens of my glasses, partially obstructing my vision and scaring the crap out of me. The second incident involved a wet pile of leaves. As I turned the corner, I slid on the pile and then softly landed on it.

Leaves: friend or foe? You decide.

Halloween!!

These are some pictures from this weekend. We went to Worlds of Fun in costume, only to find out that you are not allowed to wear a costume into the park if you're over a certain age. Oops. Actually, my angel costume wasn't a costume at all according to their standards. Neither was Annie's. Her jailbird costume "could just have been a shirt." They made Travis turn in his saber, Nick had to loose his creepy Scream mask, and Martha had to totally ditch her cop uniform. But my halo and wings were given the go ahead. Whatever. Oh, and Huck Finn is Annie's little bro, also named Nick. My favorite part was the Carnival of Carnivorous Clowns: a fun house that is creepy in name, but true to its role as a fun house. We got 3D glasses and enjoyed shapes and characters popping out at us. It really messes with your depth perception. The best part of the fun house was this little bridge thing with a tunnel of spinning lights around it. Trippy.

Another highlight was convincing Annie to ride the Mamba with me. She had only ridden 2 roller coasters before and is afraid of heights. What is it about human nature that compels us to build enormous scary rides and wait in line for hours on end for the sole purpose of scaring the crap out of ourselves? Somehow I convinced Annie that that Mamba would be perfect for her, a newby. After we were strapped in, I told her that we would be going 75 miles per hour, and that it's the tallest coaster in the park. She covered her eyes and screamed through the entire ride. Somewhere in the universe there is a picture of me laughing hysterically with Annie next to me scared out of her mind. I'm soo mean.