Title? I don't need no stinkin' title!

More tattoo-related news. Yesterday evening I went to get my hair cut. I noticed that one of the stylists had a tattoo on her leg of a pair of scissors. I complimented it, and told her about my recent experience with a bus-tattoo-sporting bus driver. The stylist told me that her friend who works at a pizza place said he was going to get a tattoo of a pizza slice on his leg, but was actually just making fun of her. This all made me think that maybe I should think about getting a math tattoo. (As a side note, it turns out that if you do a Google search for "math tattoo", you get some very interesting pictures.) There was once a period of several days where I was seriously considering getting a small tattoo on my arm of the Green Lantern symbol, but my sister eventually convinced me not to do it. I had forgotten, you see, that I don't like getting jabbed with needles.

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This morning I went with some friends to get some coffee to fuel our "work". We went to the Manndible Cafe on campus. I ordered a "Dragonfly", which is a peppermint-mocha-type coffee drink. This is why the image at the top of this entry came from. My friend ordered a "Wooly Bear", which I believe is something with mocha and orange in it. It occurred to me that "Wooly Bear" might make a great nickname for this friend of mine, although she might disagree. I'll have to try it out and see what happens. If I never write another entry, I guess you'll know.

On the other hand, I think I could be quite happy with the nickname "Dragonfly". (Did you know that, according to Wikipedia, despite the fact that they have six legs, dragonflies are incapable of walking?) I don't think I've ever had a really great nickname, except of course "Tim" instead of "Timothy". (Not that I mind my full name. People just seem to gravitate towards the shorter version. For a period of time I preferred the full version, but now I am quite happy with "Tim". I think it has connotations of both dependability and fun.)

I do have a friend who still sometimes calls me "Kiki", (or "Kiks", or "Kikster"), after a particular anime film, whose title happens to sound not just a little bit like that of a porno flick. A couple of girls in high school very occasionally called me "Teggy", after my full initials. A different girl in high school called me "Tim-who-mothed-he", or something like that, based on an elongated and distorted pronunciation of "Timothy". Finally, when they were little little little, both my brother and sister used to call me just "T". I think my grandmother did, too, come to think of it.

I ought to know by now.

I ought to know by now not to listen to comedy on my iPod while commuting by bus, or waiting for the bus, especially not if I'm listening to it for the first time. It's very embarrassing when I laugh out loud, especially when it escalates to the "guffaw" level. I'm sure people can figure out that I'm listening to something funny, but they still give me weird looks. Even weirder than usual, I mean. I think there's something about the mornings especially that makes me much more susceptible to streams of hysterical laughter. It's probably either the altered mental state associated with sleep deprivation, or the giddiness I sometimes get at my first glimpse of and whiff at a particularly beautiful and fragrant morning.

This morning I was listening to the comedian Gabriel Iglesias. He's an excellent mimic, and an extremely funny man. I highly recommend his work.

Follow the white rabbit.

When I got on the bus this morning, I noticed that the bus driver had a tattoo on her calf of a little bus. It kind of looked like a school bus, but I couldn't tell for sure because it was just an outline, and not colored in yellow or anything. It was flesh-colored. I wonder if she became a bus driver before or after getting the tattoo. (Notice that, logically speaking, this last sentence is true no matter what.)

When I saw the tattoo, the phrase "Follow the white rabbit" popped into my head. Despite the fact that I hadn't received a mysterious message on my computer that morning telling me to "Follow the flesh-colored school bus", I guess I did end up doing just that, since I rode the bus to school. Nothing extraordinary happened there, though. In particular, no Trinity. Not yet, anyway. Hope springs eternal.

My new favorite.

I just found and bought what is now my new favorite birthday card ever. On the outside is a black and white picture of two children on an amusement park ride, with a top and bottom trim in shades of blue. Red print near the top reads, "Hope your birthday is somewhere on a scale between 'totally freaked out' and 'I may have just wet my pants.'" The inside is orange, and contains only the following words, in white.

Happy! Birthday! to! You!

I absolutely love this card.

It reminds me of another old favorite card. This one is a Halloween card. The outside reads something like, "If in the middle of the night you hear a scritch-scratch sound at your window, don't worry. It's just a tree branch." Inside, it reads something like, "That's how zombies open windows." The original writing was better, but I don't remember it. Somewhat surprisingly, it appears that I actually sent that card to someone, instead of keeping it for myself.

Last year when I was on the job market, my sister sent me a great card, which is still hanging over my desk. On the front is a hand sticking out of a shark's mouth, making an "okay" sign with its fingers. The top of the card reads simply "POSITIVE ATTITUDE". The bottom reads, "...the difference between being eaten alive by a shark and being okey-dokey." Many of my students have noticed that card, and think it's hysterical.

Many years ago, in high school, my best friend's family gave me a birthday card that still makes me chuckle. On the outside it reads, "When they made you, they really broke the mold." It continues inside with, "Rumor has it they beat the hell out of the mold-maker, too."

Even more years ago, when I was in elementary school, I bought a great Valentine's Day card for this girl I had a huge crush on. On the front was a guy holding bunch of flowers, looking excitedly up at the reader and confirming, "You'll be my Valentine, you'll bestill my beating heart?" Inside, the guy has fallen on his face, with an accompanying "thump". Awesome. I love onomatopeia.

Actually, I recall that there is a super-villain named Onomatopeia, originally appearing in a Green Arrow comic book. He's awesome, because he repeats out loud any sounds that occur near him (except speech). So in the comic book, you might see the text "THWACK" representing a sound effect, and then a beat later a word balloon coming from this guy, representing him saying "Thwack". My favorite thing that I remember about this guy is when he was hiding behind a doorway waiting to sneak attack Connor Hawke. Connor hears a SQUEAK from the door, then hears Onomatopeia say "Squeak". Then Conner says, "Squeak?", realizes something is up, and ducks, all just in time to avoid Onomatopeia's attack.

Incidentally, that character, as well as that scene I described, were created by artist Phil Hester and writer Kevin Smith. That's right, Silent Bob himself.

You're my main sandwich.

Yesterday in class, my students and I talked about the Squeeze Theorem for limits. This is also sometimes called the Sandwich Theorem; indeed this is how their huge and extremely heavy textbook calls it. I pointed out that although the Squeeze and Sandwich Theorems are the same, in general a squeeze and a sandwich are quite different. For instance, you wouldn't want to refer to your "main squeeze" as your "main sandwich".

This got a great laugh in both of my classes, not the least of which was from me. I suggested that, on second thought, perhaps you would want to call him or her your "main sandwich", because that would be HYSTERICAL.

One of my students asked what "main squeeze" means, and I answered that it refers to one's boyfriend or girlfriend, or something close to that. Another student objected, and claimed that it's a much more general term, and often just means your best friend or the person you hang out with the most. I was, and remain, highly dubious. No one else I have talked to agrees with this objecting student of mine, although opinions seem to vary on the level of commitment and exclusivity implied by being a "main squeeze".

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I love sandwiches, always have. It's hard for me to identify the best sandwich I ever had, because besides being subjective from person to person, I find that the quality of food depends so much on my state at the time, particularly on how hungry I am. For instance, it may be that the best thing you ever taste is a plain cheese sandwich, simply because it's the first thing you get to eat after being ill for several days.

The weirdest sandwich I ever made, and ate, was a grilled cheddar cheese sandwich with peanut butter. No contest. And it was not especially tasty, although it may have been under different, and extreme, circumstances. The recipe came from a list of progressively stranger and more complicated recipes for different cheese sandwiches I found online at some point. I think it was titled something like "The Journey of a Cheese Sandwich", but I can't seem to find it anymore. Just as well. I probably don't have to mention that the peanut butter one was the last cheese sandwich recipe I tried from that list.

Speaking of sandwiches, did you know that there is a french fry sandwich? And that it has its own song? I confess that I have been known to add a couple of french fries to a pre-existing meat sandwich, on occasion, but I never tried it without the meet. Hmmmm...