Sunspace,
No matter what forum/thread I see you in, no matter what you’re saying, I always think of you as:
“That poster that got in the fight with the calamari/Tentacle Monster/ and lost.”
I am so sorry. I will try and fit a different image of you in my head.
I think you mean Sir Laurence Olivier.
“The new dentist, Dr. Malone,
Got a charming young patient alone,
And in his depravity
He filled the wrong cavity—
Just see how his practice has grown!” 
Thanks, I’ll see if I can implore one to put me on his waiting list; it’s a relief to know that I don’t really have to worry about out-and-out quacks. Glad you had such a great, um, experience with yours, and see you whenever at the NetherDope!
Woo-hoo, it’s 12:01 and we made it through Black Monday! Happy end-of-Valentine’s-Day to all,
Love,
Kimstu
Um …
I was coming in here to say the exact same thing. I actually told my English professor, “And a happy Dies Irae!” when she wished me a happy…that other holiday celebrated today.
I’m just that much of a geek, I guess.
Hey, Kythereia, I’m in the same position as you except with the sexes reversed and three years younger. Want to go out? And I’m less than a day’s drive away too.
I should have put a smiley in that. 
There we go.
This holiday is an oozing hemmorrhoid in the rectum of the best (read: shortest) month of the year. First day of the spring semester, thousands of couples wearing cutesy shit to campus. In boycott of this commercialized crapola - well, who am I kidding, in boycott of it being offensive to my bitter lonely loser sensibilities - I cut out every composer in my collection who ever hinted at love for today. That left Shostakovich.
Incidentally, someone at college apparently misunderstood the concept and wore an “I <3 Jesus” T-shirt.
Latitude 61 sweetie, latitude 61…
We Alaskan girls just LUUUUUUV sweet men.
The Highlight of this wretched day was finding a little bag of candy on my desk. The chocolate was fairly good, considering its brand was Palmer. I gave the conversation hearts to my coworker.
I hate those things, they taste like lightly sweetened chalk.
I wore an black tank top, black jeans and a white crocheted poncho. Screw Hallmark.
One of my cow-orker had a garish ballon bouquet that played some SONG. I say it like that, because i could not discern a rhythm just a demented electronic tweetling moan. IN A GODDAMN CALL CENTRE, CUBE FARM, AND HOW THAT SHIT COULD BE HEARD THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE BUILDING!!!
If I’d darts available i would have thrown them.
That’s pretty damn funny, imho. I’m not much of a diamond girl. Or a “precious stones” kinda girl either for that matter.
I just can’t get past the idea that a tiny (relatively speaking of course) sparkly little rock COSTS what it does. To me, that’s just nuts. I don’t care how pretty they are, or how “big”, thousands, or hundreds of thousands of dollars for a little shiny rock? Naaaah, that’s just crazy.
I got stuck working until 11pm troubleshooting a problem that turned out to be a configuration error caused by someone else. I thought that sucked and then found out my coworker’s grandmother died that day.
His grandfather died last Christmas. They’re running out of holidays to celebrate.
Somehow being single this VD didn’t seem so bad by comparison.
It’s all part of the DeBeers conspiricy to convince the world that highly compressed and renormalized graphite is worth something more than carbon in any other configuration. Gold? Silver? Platinum? These I can understand. Diamonds? Meh. I’d rather look at rubies, emeralds, and sapphires.
My grandfather was a jeweler and he knew exactly what these things were worth. They were worth whatever a woman could gouge her fiancee/husband into paying to demonstrate his value. It used to be how big of a bear skin you could bring back to line the cave floor. Now it’s how much assets you can morgage to purchase a piece of mugger-bait in order to impress other, equally vain, women. Ugh.
Kudos to you ladies out there who refused to play along with that stupid game.
Stranger
I’m not interested in a diamond as a diamond, and I think big diamonds look tacky from an aesthetic POV, but in pre-credit-card days it showed that a man had the financial discipline and maturity to save for a major purchase.
To be fair, before the present dual-income era it made sense to choose a guy who can acually afford to support a family. A ring is simply a symbol of that.
That’s an after-the-fact rationalization, IMHO. If I were a chick (and every time I walk into the bathroom and can pee without sitting on some germ-infested, piss-soaked toliet I thank whichever gods are responsible that I’m not) I’d be more impressed with a down-payment on a house, or even a lavish honeymoon. But a rock? Pffft. More useless than a mink stole.
Once you’ve read about the creation and maintainence of the diamond trade by DeBeers and that racist bastard Cecil Rhodes you’ll never look at diamonds with desire again.
Diamonds, a girl’s best friend? Girlfriend needs to get herself a beagle.
Stranger
Sheesh. One little incident with a cephalopod and I never hear the end of it.
ITA. A guy who tried to give me a diamond ring but still had thousands of dollars of student-loan debt would be laughed out of the room.
Rubies and so on are certainly prettier imho.
As to how a man can “show his worth” to me? While I do require that a man earn his own keep (I’ve had a few VERY unpleasant experiences with worthless beer guzzling unemployed couch potatoes), in my book, a man proves his worth through his heart and the TIME and attention he spends, not things, money, and jewelry.
:: applause ::
And those are words we should all remember.
You’re a precious jewel, CanvasShoes.
Stranger