Things of note: I got me a donorcycle (as named by one who thinks horses are other than ferocious, murderous beasts that like to maim little girls) this weekend. It ran just enough to tease me, dying after a few seconds or minutes of erratic idling. I knew it had this problem when I got it from a coworker, but I still couldn't resist trying to start it every time I went by. I took off the side covers, installed a new battery, new gas with some fuel system cleaner, and took apart the top of one carbeurator. Then put it back together, because I have no idea what I was looking at. I actually got it to run for about 4 minutes once - that was big excitement. But, as all things do, it died. Happily, there is a bike repair shop across the street from my office. Here it is in the morning dew, waiting for the experts to tinker with it and bring it back from the dead. Speaking of which, my Betta (rhymes with wetta - credit Kingfisher for the correctitude) has bit the dust. I came home from work Friday to find the poor fishy floating near the bottom, colors fading and fins still. He (she? I didn't look between its fins) never did eat any of the bettafood, even though I followed the directions exactly. Sadly, it expired before I could do the christening - so he (or she) has returned to the earth via the Grand Rapids Wastewater Treatment System. Speaking of which, I had one job which required me to visit that facility. I was an outside plant engineer for a telecom engineering firm, who handled all the fiber optic cabling for the city. Interesting place, that. Miles of underground tunnels and a very unusual smell - not terribly unpleasant, and not sewage-like. More like a combination of bakelite (pegboard, or the back of an old teevee) and toasted marshmallows. The part that really skeeved me out was the presence of emergency boxes along the length of the tunnels, much like a fire extinguisher box. These boxes, however, contained SCUBA gear. A mask, a tank, and the very sickening realization of the possibility of needing such a thing. Jibblies. Grossed me out far worse than the sign in the lobby which read: "The water you drink tomorrow could be the water you drank yesterday." A final thought before I must go work work work: Wordsmiths Unlimited is back!! I can't tell you how exciting this is. My presence on the innerwebs is due to that institution; up until then I thought blogs were things for people with dread diseases or political agendas. Or both. Had no idea they were such interesting and diverse fun. You can see my first story here, then go write one of your own!