....I just caught the last couple minutes of whatever that "America's Tribal Council" thing was, and I have to admit that I was pleased to see this guy get the big "second-fiddle" prize (with the prize being the same as that of the actual winner, so, you know).
(Don't click if you don't want to know before you watch the show.)
The personal blog of author Kelly Sedinger, chronicling the adventures of one overalls-clad wanderer.
Thursday, May 13, 2004
Man, that Abe fellow could write!
Lynn Sislo links a Terry Teachout post that contrasts two bits of writing, both from the exact same source. The first is from Abraham Lincoln's first Inaugural Address, as originally written by William Seward:
"I close. We are not we must not be aliens or enemies but fellow countrymen and brethren….The mystic chords which proceeding from so many battle fields and so many patriot graves pass through all the hearts and all the hearths in this broad continent of ours will yet again harmonize in their ancient music when breathed upon by the guardian angel of the nation."
Then, Terry gives the actual version as rewritten by President Lincoln himself:
"I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies….The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."
Terry says that Lincoln's formulation is more elegant while Seward's is clunky; Lynn feels it's the reverse, referring to Lincoln's version as a "dumbed-down" variation of Seward's. For my part, I agree with Terry, and here are a couple of reasons why.
1. The difference in the first sentences. Seward writes, "I close", but Lincoln says "I am loth to close". This is essential to the theme of the whole speech; if we truly are "not enemies, but friends" -- or "fellow countrymen and brethren" -- then by making this simple alteration Lincoln is saying, "You are my friends, my brothers, my countrymen, and I do not want to leave your company." What Lincoln has done by changing Seward's words is to strengthen the overall theme of the address (i.e., that the United States is a Union that must not be pulled apart).
2. By pulling "We must not be enemies" into its own sentence, Lincoln amplifies the moral imperative implied by the preceding "We are not enemies, but friends". In one sentence he states what is the case; in the next, he states what must continue to be the case. This is missed in Seward's awkward formulation.
3. Seward takes a stab at a musical metaphor in that long blow of a sentence ending things, but it doesn't quite work. What "mystic chords" are these? What is this "ancient music" those chords produce? It's very unclear, but Lincoln strongly ties that metaphor back into his theme of Union.
4. Lincoln adds small clauses like "as they surely will be" which create a mood of optimism not present in the Seward.
5. The phrase "the better angels of our nature" implies a more active role for the citizenry in preserving the Union; Seward's formulation is a pretty passive one in which we rely on "the guardian angel of our nation". Lincoln preserves the image of angelic providence, but aligns it with the people whom he has already called "friends".
6. Finally, this is hard to gauge, but Lincoln's rewrite has better cadence for a bit of writing that is intended to be read aloud. That long sentence of Seward's has no natural breaking points, no obvious places where one thought ends and another begins, and it contains one clause that could seriously trip up a speaker ("...through all the hearts and all the hearths in this broad continent..."). Lincoln fixes this by changing that clause to add a single syllable (..."to every living heart and hearthstone...")
So, in Lincoln's formulation, I find a stronger statement of theme and a stronger relation of that theme to his intended audience, I find the imagery likewise recast to better reflect the theme of the address, and I find a better sense of rhythm and cadence. And all that in just three fewer words than in Seward's original, which is really a remarkable thing: just reading the two versions back-to-back, I got the impression that Seward's was significantly longer than Lincoln's. Not so.
In his post, Terry Teachout makes a musical metaphor to what Lincoln has done here, and I'd like to make another one. Any trained musician knows that a complex passage of fast music will actually sound faster if played cleanly at a slower tempo than if it is played sloppily at a brisker tempo. Here, Abraham Lincoln accomplishes the literary equivalent.
"I close. We are not we must not be aliens or enemies but fellow countrymen and brethren….The mystic chords which proceeding from so many battle fields and so many patriot graves pass through all the hearts and all the hearths in this broad continent of ours will yet again harmonize in their ancient music when breathed upon by the guardian angel of the nation."
Then, Terry gives the actual version as rewritten by President Lincoln himself:
"I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies….The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."
Terry says that Lincoln's formulation is more elegant while Seward's is clunky; Lynn feels it's the reverse, referring to Lincoln's version as a "dumbed-down" variation of Seward's. For my part, I agree with Terry, and here are a couple of reasons why.
1. The difference in the first sentences. Seward writes, "I close", but Lincoln says "I am loth to close". This is essential to the theme of the whole speech; if we truly are "not enemies, but friends" -- or "fellow countrymen and brethren" -- then by making this simple alteration Lincoln is saying, "You are my friends, my brothers, my countrymen, and I do not want to leave your company." What Lincoln has done by changing Seward's words is to strengthen the overall theme of the address (i.e., that the United States is a Union that must not be pulled apart).
2. By pulling "We must not be enemies" into its own sentence, Lincoln amplifies the moral imperative implied by the preceding "We are not enemies, but friends". In one sentence he states what is the case; in the next, he states what must continue to be the case. This is missed in Seward's awkward formulation.
3. Seward takes a stab at a musical metaphor in that long blow of a sentence ending things, but it doesn't quite work. What "mystic chords" are these? What is this "ancient music" those chords produce? It's very unclear, but Lincoln strongly ties that metaphor back into his theme of Union.
4. Lincoln adds small clauses like "as they surely will be" which create a mood of optimism not present in the Seward.
5. The phrase "the better angels of our nature" implies a more active role for the citizenry in preserving the Union; Seward's formulation is a pretty passive one in which we rely on "the guardian angel of our nation". Lincoln preserves the image of angelic providence, but aligns it with the people whom he has already called "friends".
6. Finally, this is hard to gauge, but Lincoln's rewrite has better cadence for a bit of writing that is intended to be read aloud. That long sentence of Seward's has no natural breaking points, no obvious places where one thought ends and another begins, and it contains one clause that could seriously trip up a speaker ("...through all the hearts and all the hearths in this broad continent..."). Lincoln fixes this by changing that clause to add a single syllable (..."to every living heart and hearthstone...")
So, in Lincoln's formulation, I find a stronger statement of theme and a stronger relation of that theme to his intended audience, I find the imagery likewise recast to better reflect the theme of the address, and I find a better sense of rhythm and cadence. And all that in just three fewer words than in Seward's original, which is really a remarkable thing: just reading the two versions back-to-back, I got the impression that Seward's was significantly longer than Lincoln's. Not so.
In his post, Terry Teachout makes a musical metaphor to what Lincoln has done here, and I'd like to make another one. Any trained musician knows that a complex passage of fast music will actually sound faster if played cleanly at a slower tempo than if it is played sloppily at a brisker tempo. Here, Abraham Lincoln accomplishes the literary equivalent.
The New Worst Euphemism EVER!
Hoo-boy, Morat's got a good one:
"Every story I've seen calls it 'forced sex'. Why not call it what it is? Rape.."
Oy.
"Every story I've seen calls it 'forced sex'. Why not call it what it is? Rape.."
Oy.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
No. Way. No. FREAKING. Way.
The Not-so-ancient Marriner
Norman Lebrecht on Sir Neville Marriner, on the occasion of Marriner's eightieth birthday:
"Ask him for his greatest thrill, and it might be seeing his daughter married in the church of St-Martin-in-the-Fields, or playing in the back desk of the Philharmonia with Toscanini on the rostrum. Neville Marriner is a rare specimen in the musical jungle, a maestro without enemies. He took hold of a tradition, improved it beyond previous recognition and preserved it in transmissible form for all eternity."
Marriner is a very self-effacing conductor: he is responsible for a number of my very favorite recordings -- this Vaughan Williams disc of his is one of favorite recordings ever, in any musical genre -- but I don't know much about him at all. Reading Lebrecht's tribute, it seems this is at least partly by Marriner's own design.
Mainstream audiences will most likely have encountered Marriner's work via the film Amadeus, for which Marriner recorded all of the music with his orchestra, the Academy of St-Martin-in-the-Fields. I used to read articles that lamented the passing of the age when a single conductor was indelibly associated with a single orchestra -- Stokowski with Philadelphia, say, or Koussevitzky with Boston -- but it still does happen. Marriner and the ASMTF is a prime example.
"Ask him for his greatest thrill, and it might be seeing his daughter married in the church of St-Martin-in-the-Fields, or playing in the back desk of the Philharmonia with Toscanini on the rostrum. Neville Marriner is a rare specimen in the musical jungle, a maestro without enemies. He took hold of a tradition, improved it beyond previous recognition and preserved it in transmissible form for all eternity."
Marriner is a very self-effacing conductor: he is responsible for a number of my very favorite recordings -- this Vaughan Williams disc of his is one of favorite recordings ever, in any musical genre -- but I don't know much about him at all. Reading Lebrecht's tribute, it seems this is at least partly by Marriner's own design.
Mainstream audiences will most likely have encountered Marriner's work via the film Amadeus, for which Marriner recorded all of the music with his orchestra, the Academy of St-Martin-in-the-Fields. I used to read articles that lamented the passing of the age when a single conductor was indelibly associated with a single orchestra -- Stokowski with Philadelphia, say, or Koussevitzky with Boston -- but it still does happen. Marriner and the ASMTF is a prime example.
Yes, it happens, believe it or not
TBogg makes a little fun of Rush Limbaugh for using what sounds like a really weird metaphor:
"The left howl like they were bit in the head by a sex crazed horse...."
Except, well....it can happen.
(Horse link via Warren Ellis. No, I'm not defending Rush Limbaugh.)
"The left howl like they were bit in the head by a sex crazed horse...."
Except, well....it can happen.
(Horse link via Warren Ellis. No, I'm not defending Rush Limbaugh.)
Nick Berg's Murder
Overnight I had a bunch of search engine hits about the beheading of Nick Berg in Iraq. Presumably people are looking for the video of the event. Yes, I have seen it; yes, I believe such things should be made public; yes, it is ghastly and horrifying. I got the video from Ogrish.com (warning: if you haven't seen this site before, it is neither safe for work nor for those who are in any way squeamish).
Also, Oliver Willis linked another blog that was hosting the video (as of yesterday, at least).
If you do watch this, remember: that's a real human being there, and he's been murdered by other real human beings. This isn't an outtake from 24.
Also, Oliver Willis linked another blog that was hosting the video (as of yesterday, at least).
If you do watch this, remember: that's a real human being there, and he's been murdered by other real human beings. This isn't an outtake from 24.
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Where's the outrage?
Via Pandagon, I see that apparently a blogger named Vodkapundit (whom I have never read until just a few minutes ago) has decided that insufficient outrage has been expressed over today's beheading of an American citizen at the hands of Al Qaeda.
Well, for one thing, it seems to me that he might wait a bit for the outrage. I mean, I didn't even learn about this incident until I got home from work around 4:00, and even then, blogging wasn't the top thing on my plate, and even considering all that, I rarely blog an emotion the second I feel it. (Regular readers will note that I have yet to say anything about the business in the Iraqi prisons, mainly because there's damned little that I can say that hasn't been said by anyone else. The world just doesn't need one more blogger expressing sorrow and disappointment in our leaders, in whom I would really rather feel pride and admiration.)
But my larger point is this: I'm not really outraged by this. At least, not in the sense of being shocked by this event. Sad to say, but the murder of hostages really doesn't strike me as something unexpected from Al Qaeda. Nor is there a sense of disappointment, in the way I'm keenly disappointed in our own leaders for allowing the Iraqi prison abuse to happen. Let's face it, folks: Al Qaeda can do many things, but they have long since lost the ability to disappoint me.
So what do I feel about this? Anger, mostly -- fierce anger at these cowards who strike a pose in their video as if to say, "Look at us, the Big! Bad! Militant! Terrorists!", who don't even have the guts to pose without hoods. And there's a bit of hatred toward that small subset of Islam that has allowed such people to find each other, feed off each other, and pool their disgusting resources for their own disgusting ends that I suspect have far less to do with furthering the will of Allah and far more to do with just a bunch of guys getting kicks off murdering people (Americans preferred, generic Westerners acceptable).
I don't know if that qualifies as "outrage", but it seems to me that "outrage" better describes what I feel about us acting like the bad guys than what I feel about the bad guys acting like the bad guys.
Well, for one thing, it seems to me that he might wait a bit for the outrage. I mean, I didn't even learn about this incident until I got home from work around 4:00, and even then, blogging wasn't the top thing on my plate, and even considering all that, I rarely blog an emotion the second I feel it. (Regular readers will note that I have yet to say anything about the business in the Iraqi prisons, mainly because there's damned little that I can say that hasn't been said by anyone else. The world just doesn't need one more blogger expressing sorrow and disappointment in our leaders, in whom I would really rather feel pride and admiration.)
But my larger point is this: I'm not really outraged by this. At least, not in the sense of being shocked by this event. Sad to say, but the murder of hostages really doesn't strike me as something unexpected from Al Qaeda. Nor is there a sense of disappointment, in the way I'm keenly disappointed in our own leaders for allowing the Iraqi prison abuse to happen. Let's face it, folks: Al Qaeda can do many things, but they have long since lost the ability to disappoint me.
So what do I feel about this? Anger, mostly -- fierce anger at these cowards who strike a pose in their video as if to say, "Look at us, the Big! Bad! Militant! Terrorists!", who don't even have the guts to pose without hoods. And there's a bit of hatred toward that small subset of Islam that has allowed such people to find each other, feed off each other, and pool their disgusting resources for their own disgusting ends that I suspect have far less to do with furthering the will of Allah and far more to do with just a bunch of guys getting kicks off murdering people (Americans preferred, generic Westerners acceptable).
I don't know if that qualifies as "outrage", but it seems to me that "outrage" better describes what I feel about us acting like the bad guys than what I feel about the bad guys acting like the bad guys.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, revisited
OK, in my best mercurial nature, I have reinstated YACCS as my commenting system. Things will once again look hinky until I can get the entire blog to republish.
So there.
(And, once again, any comments that were left in the interim have once again been scotched, but the older comments have been restored. I promise that sooner or later, all this navel-gaze posting will stop.)
So there.
(And, once again, any comments that were left in the interim have once again been scotched, but the older comments have been restored. I promise that sooner or later, all this navel-gaze posting will stop.)
Yeah, yeah, more "New Blogger" stuff
OK, as long as I'm pretty much talking about nothing but the new version of Blogger (God, this blog must be dull right now), what happened to the feature of being able to change a post's date and time? Has that vanished or been superseded somehow?
UPDATE: OK, I found it. Directly underneath the posting box, a small bar says "More Post Options...", but I was thrown off because there's nothing else there. It turns out that by clicking this, a drop-down menu containing the Time/Date change tool appears. This is really not obvious, though. (Something I've noticed about Blogger over the years is that they often don't make things very clear.)
UPDATE: OK, I found it. Directly underneath the posting box, a small bar says "More Post Options...", but I was thrown off because there's nothing else there. It turns out that by clicking this, a drop-down menu containing the Time/Date change tool appears. This is really not obvious, though. (Something I've noticed about Blogger over the years is that they often don't make things very clear.)
OK, this one's annoying.
Can anyone offer any suggestions as to why suddenly it is that whenever I hit the "Back" button on my browser (I use Internet Explorer), the program crashes and has to close? What on Earth is this about?
Open Thread
Apropos of the post immediately below this one, since the YACCS comments are no longer available here and since the new Blogger interface apparently won't afix commenting to posts that existed prior to the launch, feel free to use this thread to say anything about any previous posts that you might have missed offering comment upon. Excellent.
On Comments.
OK, I'm not sure what to do about comments right now. I confess that I'm not totally happy with the way Blogger's new commenting system works. The biggest bugaboo is obviously that "Anonymous" thing, which requires every one who wishes to comment to either (a) sign into their Blogger profile or (b) sign anonymously, with no link to homepage. I was rather hoping that Blogger's commenting system would mirror Movable Type's, but instead they apparently chose to mirror LiveJournal's. I've noted in the past that I find LiveJournal's comments a bit cumbersome to use (or outright impossible, if the journal owner hasn't enabled anonymous comments), so I'm not too thrilled to see Blogger go that route. My view is that commenting on a blog should be an easy thing to do, with as little "hoop-jumping" as possible. I'm not wild about the fact that when I comment on a LiveJournal, I have to manually sign my comment so that the journal owner knows who I am. So I can't give Blogger's new system a total thumbs-up yet. (It could be worse: to leave a comment on AOL Journals, you have to have an AOL screen name. No ifs, ands, or buts.)
However, I do really like the fact that the comments appear with the body of the post, and not in an extra window; and I also really like the fact that with Blogger's system I wouldn't be in the position of relying on an externally-running script for comments. When YACCS was running slow, the load time here would suffer; and when YACCS was down entirely, the load time here was interminable. That, to me, is a pretty big deal. I'm on a 56K dial-up connection, and the not-infrequent glacial pace of a blog that's mostly text always annoyed me. (It was a prime reason why I dumped BlogRolling, for example.) Also, YACCS archives comments once they're more than three months old; I assume that with Blogger's system, comments on a post are always active. (But thus far there seems to be no way to "retrofit" older posts from before the update to include Blogger comments. That would be a nice thing to do, guys.)
So: I found YACCS slightly easier to use, there are other things I like about the new Blogger system. Therefore, I am currently leaning slightly toward keeping the Blogger system in place, but it's not a very strong lean. I'll leave the Blogger system up for a period of time -- probably a week or two -- and gauge how things are going. We'll see.
However, I do really like the fact that the comments appear with the body of the post, and not in an extra window; and I also really like the fact that with Blogger's system I wouldn't be in the position of relying on an externally-running script for comments. When YACCS was running slow, the load time here would suffer; and when YACCS was down entirely, the load time here was interminable. That, to me, is a pretty big deal. I'm on a 56K dial-up connection, and the not-infrequent glacial pace of a blog that's mostly text always annoyed me. (It was a prime reason why I dumped BlogRolling, for example.) Also, YACCS archives comments once they're more than three months old; I assume that with Blogger's system, comments on a post are always active. (But thus far there seems to be no way to "retrofit" older posts from before the update to include Blogger comments. That would be a nice thing to do, guys.)
So: I found YACCS slightly easier to use, there are other things I like about the new Blogger system. Therefore, I am currently leaning slightly toward keeping the Blogger system in place, but it's not a very strong lean. I'll leave the Blogger system up for a period of time -- probably a week or two -- and gauge how things are going. We'll see.
The Price of Gas
I consider myself lucky that I'd never actually seen regular unleaded gas hit the $2.00 per gallon mark until just the other day. (The SuperDuperPremiumWithACherryOnTop, yes, but the regular stuff, no.) I dunno, but this really doesn't hit me all that hard. My wife has a lengthy commute to work (about 35 miles), whereas I do not (about 4), so it evens out; and in the non-work periods, I'm not doing that much driving around anyway. So, yes, that high price sucks, but it's not an item of colossal suckage for me. Especially since we're not in any position to upgrade to a vehicle of better mileage, barring a disastrous breakdown of either vehicle, and since our current mileage isn't great but not horrifyingly bad (roughly 26 mpg for each vehicle).
I'm actually more vexed by the fact that the price of milk has jumped by nearly fifty cents a gallon here. That sucks. Maybe we should start giving dirty looks to those Wisconsin milk barons? Something like, "We stormed Baghdad, so don't think we can't do the same thing to Eau Claire!"
I'm actually more vexed by the fact that the price of milk has jumped by nearly fifty cents a gallon here. That sucks. Maybe we should start giving dirty looks to those Wisconsin milk barons? Something like, "We stormed Baghdad, so don't think we can't do the same thing to Eau Claire!"
Monday, May 10, 2004
No! Don't tell me how it ends!
I was poking about AICN a bit ago, and I noticed that they have a couple of advance reviews of the new movie Troy posted. Nothing remarkable there, except the reviews also had spoiler warnings.
That seems to me a pretty sad state of affairs, when the outcome of the Trojan War is a potential movie spoiler.
That seems to me a pretty sad state of affairs, when the outcome of the Trojan War is a potential movie spoiler.
Good Lord!
Heading over to Lynn Sislo's blog for my daily visit, I see she's a bit put out that apparently Byzantium's Shores holds a series of spots on the Technorati search results for "classical music", each of which outranks her. This hardly seems fair, since posting about classical music is far more her thing than mine.
Checking this out, I see that she's right: but more than that, I don't see why I should be listed so many times under that, since every listing seems to be generated on the basis of my front-page link to an omnibus review I wrote for GMR of five "introductory" books about classical music. This is, well, strange. I can see appearing once, but why so many? If a bunch of different posts of mine involving classical music had somehow percolated to the top, that would be one thing, but as far as I can tell, this is the same exact citation, repeated over two-dozen times in the search results.
And then I see that Lynn takes exception to an article by critic David Hurwitz (I read that at first as "Horowitz"), in which Hurwitz purports to lay out classical music's ten dirtiest secrets. Lynn explodes most of them, so you can read what she has to say on the subject -- mostly it's just the incredibly tired critical game of pretending that the critic's opinion is actually an objective fact -- but one of the couple she didn't touch made my eyes pop:
4. No one cares about the first three movements of Berlioz’ Symphonie fantastique.
To which I say, what staggering horse-shit. Really and truly. I care very damned deeply about those three movements. I care about the long, dreamy passage that opens the Symphonie, before the allegro kicks in with the first statement of the idee fixe, and I care about the wonderful recapitulation of the idee fixe for the entire orchestra toward the end of the first movement, and I care about those solemn, religioso chords that close out the movement.
I care very deeply about that wonderfully graceful waltz in the second movement: its haunting opening with arpeggiated tremolos in the strings, the long and graceful waltz melody (long melodies being so typical of Berlioz), the obliggato part for solo cornet.
And I care immensely for the third movement, the pastoral movement, for its musical depiction of a distant thunderstorm, for the duet between English horn and offstage oboe, again for a long melody that when it recurs is suddenly doubled a third higher by the first violins, and the amazing spot at the end when the idee fize is quoted by four different woodwind instruments in four successive measures.
Maybe that was meant to read, "No one cares what David Hurwitz cares about." I wonder if Lynn omitted that one on purpose, knowing I'd follow the link and end up spitting all over my computer. She's a devilish one.
Checking this out, I see that she's right: but more than that, I don't see why I should be listed so many times under that, since every listing seems to be generated on the basis of my front-page link to an omnibus review I wrote for GMR of five "introductory" books about classical music. This is, well, strange. I can see appearing once, but why so many? If a bunch of different posts of mine involving classical music had somehow percolated to the top, that would be one thing, but as far as I can tell, this is the same exact citation, repeated over two-dozen times in the search results.
And then I see that Lynn takes exception to an article by critic David Hurwitz (I read that at first as "Horowitz"), in which Hurwitz purports to lay out classical music's ten dirtiest secrets. Lynn explodes most of them, so you can read what she has to say on the subject -- mostly it's just the incredibly tired critical game of pretending that the critic's opinion is actually an objective fact -- but one of the couple she didn't touch made my eyes pop:
4. No one cares about the first three movements of Berlioz’ Symphonie fantastique.
To which I say, what staggering horse-shit. Really and truly. I care very damned deeply about those three movements. I care about the long, dreamy passage that opens the Symphonie, before the allegro kicks in with the first statement of the idee fixe, and I care about the wonderful recapitulation of the idee fixe for the entire orchestra toward the end of the first movement, and I care about those solemn, religioso chords that close out the movement.
I care very deeply about that wonderfully graceful waltz in the second movement: its haunting opening with arpeggiated tremolos in the strings, the long and graceful waltz melody (long melodies being so typical of Berlioz), the obliggato part for solo cornet.
And I care immensely for the third movement, the pastoral movement, for its musical depiction of a distant thunderstorm, for the duet between English horn and offstage oboe, again for a long melody that when it recurs is suddenly doubled a third higher by the first violins, and the amazing spot at the end when the idee fize is quoted by four different woodwind instruments in four successive measures.
Maybe that was meant to read, "No one cares what David Hurwitz cares about." I wonder if Lynn omitted that one on purpose, knowing I'd follow the link and end up spitting all over my computer. She's a devilish one.
High Ickiness At Work
In the various places I've worked in my life, I've discovered an article-of-faith that the men's bathroom is always dirtier than the women's. This widespread belief runs counter to my own experience, unfortunately -- just in the time I've worked for The Store, every one of the nasty messes I've had to clean in the bathrooms occurred in the women's room. I'm not at all sure why this should be the case, since it seems to me that the Law of Averages would work it out fairly evenly.
Anyhoo, the worst was today. I simply do not want to have to handle someone's used pregnancy test, OK? That's just not right.
(It was negative, for those wondering. No, I did not hear the concurrent sigh of relief. I'd assume it was relief, anyway, given that this person chose to test herself in a grocery store's bathroom and left the test for the cleaning guy for proper disposal.)
Anyhoo, the worst was today. I simply do not want to have to handle someone's used pregnancy test, OK? That's just not right.
(It was negative, for those wondering. No, I did not hear the concurrent sigh of relief. I'd assume it was relief, anyway, given that this person chose to test herself in a grocery store's bathroom and left the test for the cleaning guy for proper disposal.)
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