Blog of Billy

Gotta look smart. Gotta keep posting. Too many weekends to report on, so everything is going to look thin.

Likely the most important, though actually the oldest, news is that the prodigal son has returned. Pvt. Matthew Steenson is not dead, nor even an expatriate. Instead, he is fixing Jeeps for the Man. Much celebration, joyousness, and even a nip of the finest on his return. Talk about a fatted calf.

Also good times at Andrea Morgan's dinner party. Feminist conversation with strangers can be both fun and engaging. I ended up spending that entire weekend in Norman town. Scary for my gas bill, but good times otherwise.

Live-action Transformers movie. Is this another sign of the glorious end-times? Since the original voices of Optimus and Megatron are involved, it just may be. The trailer makes me wonder though...there are no clouds on Mars.

Sprint has removed my spending limit after 5 years of late payments and occasional shut-offs, citing my "loyalty and good payment history." This either bodes very well for my credit rating, or very poorly for the naivety of corporate America. I'm going with the latter.

Random other thing I don't like about my new cell phone: if I set an alarm and then power cycle the phone, it forgets the alarm. You'd think that of the 50 MB or so that I have for music that survives reboots with no problem, they could spare 100 bytes or so to hold on to my wake-up call.

Al McAffrey won. Good for him, and good for Oklahoma.

Happy Birthy to Neisy. Her party was really fun, just the right size, and included the circle-couch thing at the Mont that I've never gotten to sit at before. I really hope that I didn't cause too much drama at the party, but I honestly don't remember the last hour or so of it. I do, however, remember having the better birthday present of the two of us that were competing, wittingly or not.

Other birthday greetings to Tomo. I know that Doug does not remember hanging out at my apartment, or eating cake with red icing, but I do.

Look, dude, you're rationalistic. You have a view of logic and truth that would look better on an eighteenth-century Deist. It only figures that you'd have a romantic side to match.