RTM

I'm studying on the bed. Anna is asleep. She has worked 32 hours in the last 24 hours and is exhausted. As I just glanced at her I noticed that she is in deep REM. But her little toes are twitching up and down just as fast as her eyes are scrolling left to right. Anna has a case of Rapid Toe Movement (RTM).

Am I rubbing off?

I've always been the clutzy one, from awkward injuries to gravity issues, I'm pretty much the epitome of accident prone. I've been pretty good about accepting it--even embracing it. But I have a new struggle: I think it's rubbing off on my husband!
Tuesday I got out of class to a phone call from Spencer, saying, "Hun, I lit the apartment on fire." Turns out he had wanted to make a sheet cake. He thought a "sheet cake" must be baked in a cookie sheet. So he mixed up not one, but TWO boxes of cake batter, dumped them into a cookie sheet and put it in the oven. Of course, as the batter baked, it rose and dripped all over the bottom of the oven, eventually catching fire! With smoke pouring out of the apartment and the alarms going off like crazy, neighbors gathered around to see what the big deal was. I came home to Spencer scraping the bottom of the oven (he offered me the pieces of what he scraped off, sweet thing) and a masses of black strewn through the kitchen (frosted). It was too cute...A for effort/for not burning down the whole apartment/for cleaning it up/and for letting me be the onlooker, rather than victim, for once!

Genius Bar

This morning I noticed a crack on my macbook casing. It was an open wound, awaiting the next spill of diet coke. I told Anna about a protection plan I purchased with the original transaction over a year and a half ago. You know that feeling you get when you want everyone to feel exactly how you feel at that moment? That was the urge I felt, and still feel, when I calmly rode my bike up Campbell Avenue against "red flag" wind (I'm not familiar with this weather term, but the Tucson weathermen use it often) to the Apple Store. I walked in, straight back to the Genius Bar and handed my laptop over with nothing more than my name. No ID required. No proof of purchase required. Just a body, computer, name, and time to pick up. To make a long story short, which is what Apple is so good at in the first place, my laptop is back on my lap. All of this, hassle free, in one afternoon. Actually, I don't want everyone to feel how I feel at this moment, because all the mac users feel this way all the time anyway, but it makes me kind of want to create a home video of the experience and send it to Dell Corporation Customer Service. Why the rage? Just ask Anna how much fun we had setting up her new Dell these past few weeks. Sorry, I have to go now and figure out how to run "Activex" so I can get rid of the nagging fear that Anna's Dell is under constant threat of a virus. If that were a wise virus, however, it would house itself as far away from a Dell as possible because at any given moment that house of a laptop might go flying off a third-story balcony. Happy April Fools!!