Someone totally copied part of my online dating profile. With attribution. But still. That is strange. I don't know him, and part of his profile says "I shamelessly stole this part from [my username]'s profile:....." I feel very strange about this. Not sure what to do about it. Nothing.

I have had so little computer time in the last several weeks that I started writing things down in a notebook that fits in my back pocket. Oldfangled style.

My weekend in Florida was not what I expected. At first I thought I'd just be on the beach for 3 days straight, with brief seafood interludes. Then it turned out that my father needed me to drive him around from place to place for 2 of those days. Then, once I was there, the president's plane crashed, and we didn't go anywhere.

My weekend in Delaware was stressful on different levels. Basically because I'm really good at what was expected of me there. But I don't really enjoy it. Or, at least, I don't want to appear committed to doing it forever.

My Easter weekend was more about trying to give stuff away than about hunting for eggs.

My weekend in Waterloo/Toronto was also novelty-and-action-packed.

The main thing is that these were all 4-day weekends, so I only spent sets of 3 consecutive days in New York for the past month, and those were working days, so I had very little time to do basic things like laundry and blogging. And one of those basic things turned out to be more important than the other.

March was a pretty low-activity month.

On my run today while being passed by a pair of skinny runner boys I was thinking to myself about how I really do not have a runner's body. It is no wonder that I run so slow, because I am clearly just not built for it. It's ridiculous that I run at all. And then I started thinking about how I am really not built for any sport. There is no sport that is better when one is short and has boobs. Even swimming, in which an evenly-spread layer of fat can be helpful for increasing hydrodynamics, does not reward concentrated fat protrusions. Even reggaeton -- as good a dance for my booty as they've ever produced -- is better when one doesn't have noticeable breasts. So then I started thinking about what things my body *was* built for. And I came up with this: giving birth and nursing infants. Too bad that's harder to arrange than joining a soccer team.

Aaaaaaaaaahhh muscle cramps aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Today on the subway I rode with a man who made magical gestures to slow down the train and open the doors. Accompanied with appropriate sound effects.

I cannot believe how irritating my interactions with [an unnamed insurance company] online have been. I don't know what the point of having an online contact form is if basically they always eventually tell You that You have to call them. They sent me a reply to my message from the online form, which is great except that the reply suggested I try something that wasn't an answer to the question I asked. And I couldn't even reply to that! I had to copy that message into the same online contact form so that I could respond to it with the appropriate context. And received yet another response that is entirely unhelpful. I gave up. It was an academic point anyway, because in order to get insured asap I had to ask K to go to their office in person.

Also, today's lemon-crusted tempeh cubes were DISGUSTING!!! I can't even believe it. I will consume almost anything. Almost anything. And this, I threw out.