It's getting close to bedtime here, and the three of us are all curled up here, Zoe sprawled across my sleeping bag in front, DJ tucked between my knees behind me. So I just reached over carefully and started gently petting DJ, and she didn't jump off the bed and run away as she's done so many times before when I'd reach my hand to her. Instead, she let me pet, and scratch her ears, and pet under her chin, and licked my hand clean.
I think we're getting somewhere. :)
That said, today was fun. I met up with whytraven
, and after going the wrong way on 580, we ended up on 680, and went around to 24. The scenic route, I suppose. :) Then we ended up eating Thai food and wandering around the campus hitting up as many historical landmarks as possible. I know the place well because I've spent several years there, and I've picked up a thing or two about workings around the campus, and thus I was able to provide informed chatter about the different buildings. The best part of the trip, though, was the ride up to the top of the Campanile, a trip that is worth the two bucks if you're ever in the area. We hung around for fifteen minutes so that whytraven
could hear the hourly bong. :) Also, we snarfed Room 307 Gilman Hall, which whytraven
says is the first room she's ever snarfed.
(In that room, Professor Glenn Seaborg synthesized plutonium for the first time. To this day, it's still a working lab. I got to meet Professor Seaborg about 52 or 53 years after the event that would change the world, after he had won his Nobel Prize and became the first living man to have an element named after him (106, which is Seaborgium.) He came to talk to my History of Cal DeCal class, and I ran his slide projector for him. Later, I shook his hand, and somewhere in my piles, I may still have his signature. Unfortunately, Professor Seaborg passed away a few years ago, and the Berkeley campus is less without the man whose name was an anagram for 'Go Bears.")
Then we came back here, and Zoe wouldn't leave whytraven
alone, and after she'd headed on her way, I wandered into the living room and watched Eight Men Out, which is about the 1919 Black Sox. (They're the ones that threw the Series.) It wasn't a bad movie. And if Christopher Lloyd didn't have a distinct way of speaking, I'd have sworn he wasn't in the movie.
Tomorrow is a down day. Other than maybe running to the grocery store, there's not much to do, and so I'll probably do a bit of studying and other work.
I really need to get spitgirl
together long enough to figure out when we're all going to have dinner. I still have Thursday tentatively marked, but I don't know if that's going to hold.
Other than that, we're all fine and happy. And while I should get under the covers, I don't want to disturb two resting dogs. Plus, I still have the light on. :(