Tip for walking on ice: Baby Steps.
Seriously. Just take very short steps so that you’re never off-balance or ‘reaching’ with a foot that might decide to keep doing when it hits the ground.
No, a pace of 3-6 inches per step on glare ice is not ridiculous. It’s safer.
My husband and I were supposed to fly back home through DFW (from Orlando), and our flight was cancelled due to the icy conditions. We were fortunate enough to get booked on another airline, but it made for an extra 2 hours of flight time. And he lost his keys somewhere. Ugh. 
I have to park outside w/car exposed to all the elements - spent over two hours chipping ice-like-concrete off my car over the weekend. Also, we lost power* for over a day: no coming inside to warm up over a cuppa tea … or anywhere warm at all, really.
Also: the real danger isn’t you, it’s all the other assholes on the road. 
I’m next door in Essex County. We like to head to Morris primarily for the fabulous Trader Joe’s in Florham Park and the apple picking over at Hillview Farms. Sorry about your backside, lol. I was just mocking the weather forecasters for being so panicky. I have to admit after Hurricane Sandy and the October snowstorm, a little December ice and snow really doesn’t strike me as all that bad. I keep trying to convince my husband to move to Florida but he hates the heat so here we stay.
Try commuting via public transit in this. 
LOL, but at least the bus started, right?
After we got the car started and I was finally driving my son to school, I was very sorry for everyone waiting at the bus stops. Buses are infrequent in our neighborhood, and basically only go downtown.
OK, yeah, buses involved in my trip were running, but as usual, RT’s schedule really belongs under Fiction.
It really does.
You all just have to read the comments here. It’s from my friend Dorit Reiss’s Facebook page commenting on Katie Couric’s show where she recently implied the Gardasil vaccine is controversial. I was laughing myself silly. An anti-vax nut showed up to accuse me of being a) a man b) an Aussie c) a prostitute and writing the skeptical raptor blog. She then explained how stupid I am.
FYI, Dorit is a law professor at UC Hastings law school. I am a writer and published author. Oh and I am neither a man nor an Aussie nor a prostitute nor the writer of the most excellent Skeptical Raptor blog. I, like Dorit, do not get paid to write about vaccines. I am passionate about the subject because it is one of the truly effective medical procedures we have. I hate pap smears. The thought that my daughters will have decreased worries about a potentially bad pap thrills me to no end. I remain baffled that anyone could fear a vaccine more than cancer but I suppose that’s what you get from people who think I’m an Australian man.
I give up. I have to get grad school apps in by Wednesday (actual deadline is Sunday, but…). I just think I’m not going to do it. I’ve been trying to write my essay for well over a month. There’s nothing unique, special, or even good about me. There is literally no reason any program should admit me. Even after exhaustive searching I can barely even find schools doing what I want to do, save the ones that even if I could write a damn essay I wouldn’t get into (Berkeley and such caliber).
I guess I just have to accept I can’t go to grad school.
Okay I finally managed to log into healthcare.gov on Sunday and finish filling out my application so I could see what the plans were. Even with my subsidy they all cost more than my existing, non-Exchange, direct pay plan (which is being continued next year). Also they had higher deductibles and less favourable cost sharing. I didn’t even bother looking at Gold or Platinum. So screw that.
All right, so the UTI I mentioned in post 45 apparently was due to a kidney stone that lodged in one of my tubes sometime during summer 2012 and has been there ever since. It finally came out this afternoon. 1/4 by 1/2 inch :eek::eek::eek:
[Roseanne Rosannadanna]
Did that come out of ME?!?!
[/RR]
That sounds itty bitty until one thinks of it as being in a very small tube in one’s body. Then it sounds like OMG please let me just die!
Two inches of snow tomorrow. Fuck it.
This is important, you can do this. Here’s some advice I heard from someone in admissions: instead of writing an essay about what makes you so special, write one about what makes you a really good fit for their program. Where do your interests and experience intersect with what you would be learning? What is it about the professors in that program that speaks to you as a student? Why is this school and this program the best one for you as a student? How is your passion for the subject going to serve as motivation for pushing through the hideous and grueling slog of grad school?
Answer those questions honestly and you’ve got your essay. BAM!
Good luck to you, you deserve to get what you want.
Dude! As a member of the distaff sex, I have had my share of UTIs and they are never fun.
One time, a male delivery driver that I saw often came to my desk to drop off the daily deliveries. He was sweating and trembling, so I asked him what was wrong. He said he was passing a stone and asked me for some asprin. Of course I scampered off to get him some water and give him some asprin for now and some for later.
I had never before seen a man in so much pain who was still up and walking and I hope to never see it again.
A couple of days later, he showed up with flowers and told me that he had been in so much pain that he couldn’t think about anything but the next step he had to take. He said he was hurting so badly that he couldn’t think to ask anyone for help and I was the only one who had noticed that something was wrong. Once the asprin had kicked in, he was able to think well enough to realize that he shouldn’t be driving.
That’s got to be some serious pain.
Lynn, I know I’m late at the party yet again, but I really hope that things are getting better.
That’s plain old nonsense. You, my friend, are a frikkin’ DOPER. There have only EVER been 155k* of us in the history of the Universe.
I’m not going to try to write your resume for you; I don’t have the resources for that. But you at least have a starting point.
Best of luck to you; you have it within you to do this.
*give or take
Half are bots, so make it 75K. Take out the socks, 60K. And only 6K active ones!
Time for my Decemberrant/shameful confession:
I like the non-stop Christmas music programming at this time of year.
There are some things I cannot abide hearing on the radio, however. We’ll start with Gene Autry, singing “Up on the Housetop.” In the bridge, where you and your singing cowboy choir sing: Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn’t go? the notes you sing are (in solfege) mi, mi, so; fa, fa la re. But the REAL notes are fa, fa, la; so, so, so, mi.
And the REAL notes for “click, click, click” are “fa, so, la” and NOT “do, mi, so”!
I keep trying to correct you when they play the record on the radio, but YOU KEEP SINGING IT WRONG!!!
And to EVERYBODY who performs “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”:
*BLAH, BLAH, BLAH
YADDA, YADDA, YADDA
I’m telling you why
SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN
He’s making a list
And checking it twice
(etc.)*
There are NOT three iterations of that
SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN line.
I just don’t know where to assign the blame for that. (The oldest version I’m familiar with is by Ronnie Spektor and the Ronettes, so I get a little twinge of hatred for Phil whenever I hear someone doing it the WRONG way.) But Michael Jackson, Bruce Springsteen and ANYONE ELSE who gives that ABOMINATION the slightest scintilla of validation, you’re going to the same music Hell that Phil is, barring your repentance and atonement.
I recognize that it’s too late for Michael, but he was probably going there just for “Ben” anyway.
Insert standard demand for the immediate removal of “The Christmas Shoes” and “Feliz Navidad” from all playlists, and we’re done here.
Oy. My property taxes are due tomorrow. I mailed them in a week ago, usually the check clears in like 3 days, but nothing yet. That means I have to try to call them tomorrow to see if they have the payment. City government, number 3 on my list of things to avoid (after the phone company and cable company). Postmarked on time is ok, and the mailbox I use has always been picked up from reliably, but if the PO screwed up, I’m the one who has to pay the penalty. Og help me.
Roddy
p.s. an ex of mine once called me and begged me to come and take him to the ER. When I got there he was grayish-green and shaking. So we hied to the hospital, where it turned out he was passing a stone. They gave him meds or something and sent him home (this was like 25 years ago). He said he passed it that night and was shocked at how small it was - he could barely see it in the bowl. I hope and pray I never get one.