Trip. We’re leaving Thursday night for SD. We should be back in town on Wednesday. With luck, we’ll get to stop at the Omaha Zoo on the way back. So? You say. Omaha. “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.” Omaha. They have a great zoo.

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Interview. First interview today. No further information until the last week of March. Sigh. I think it went well; I’m hyped. The general idea is to get someone to research procedures, write them up, and get best practices from the three sites that do the same work. What has been my big bitch at work

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Beware. Depo shot yesterday. Kicking in today. Please disregard anything insightful I say today: it’s a lie, I tell you, a lie. Three months of hormones are coursing through my body. Lee said, “You look like you need a hug all the time.” Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Mabye I should go find some chocolate and kill it. Viciously.

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Sitch. I’m still waiting for the first gorram interview for the tech position, by the way. Things crawl. Also posted for a QC position. My supervisor is a…not a saint, but you can see why there are such things as saints when you understand her situation here. She’s not a patient woman. She’s freaking out.

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Swan Palace. From the menu of my favorite Chinese place in town: Honey Glazed Walnut Shrimp: Shimp in a light batter in snow-white sarcastic lemon, in comination with mayonnaise, surrounding with honey glazed roasted walnut and topped wtih sesame seeds. What a tantalizing combination! –I haven’t been brave enough to try it yet. Canton Steamed

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Thoughts on Writing. Talking to Lee last night, here are some things that I know: When you sit down to write a story, you should ask yourself “Why?” If all you’re trying to do is entertain someone, that’s good but probably not honest. If you’re trying to “make people think” by telling them your opinion,

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Another cute kid moment. In the grocery store. For some reasons, bananas are still pronounced “mnans,” even though Rachael can say “beautiful” clearly. “Mnans! Mnans!” Since bananas are her favorite fruit in the world, I give her a couple. Mind you, she still thinks tomatoes are apples, but she’s a good kid nonetheless. She clutches

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Poor, Poor Marilyn Manson. It’s pretty bad, poor guy. I’m drivin’ along, listening to a rock station, when the MM version of “Sweet Dreams” comes on. Ray’s with me. She starts howling. Then she growls. Then she howls some more. We both crack up.

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