Well. Just had my third paper assigned in two weeks, plus I’ve got a presentation to slap together to boot.

Looks like Trent McHugh’s murder is going to to have to go unsolved. Pity, I was so enjoying myself.

Part of me wants to say fuck it, libraries don’t want to look at your transcripts anyhow. I could just glide though getting Cs and write for fun in every spare moment.

Alas, I am anal retentive.

In more cheerful news, Mr. Husband got a new job. After two years of driving jerkasses around in his taxi, he is going to work behind a desk for eight hours a day. Salaried work is a great improvement over driving for twelve hours a day, sometimes making less than minimum wage. No more day-to-day stress. How much did you bring home today? Only eighty? Only forty? We’re out of diapers again? Fuck.

Now, like ordinary people, we will have the stress of living paycheck-to-paycheck.

Yakov Smirnoff: What a country!

In his honor, I’m going to start dragging over NorthEnd Taxi stuff from my old archiving spot.

In Other News

I met the Japanese translator that my presentation group is using for interviews. He is so adorable; if I could, I’d but him in my pocket.

I think he is nineteen or so. His name is Kentaro and he has only been here for a year, but he was immersed right into dorm life with a bunch of white kids, so he is really fluent.

When we were emailing back and forth I told him I couldn’t pay him, but I could write him a letter of recommendation and that our group would take him out to lunch. When I met him in person, he said, “Really? Lunch?” He was very excited.

I thought that maybe a person with such a valuable skill would be a little cutthroat about it. But he was just like, “YAY! Food!” He has a lot to learn. I refuse to take advantage of him though, even though I had to resist asking him to recite some of the French he’s been taking with EVERY BONE IN MY BODY. How cute is that? French with a Japanese accent. Oh I shouldn’t even be let out of the house.