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There've been too many silly incidents with Linguistics teachers and random people on campus to maintain any respectable level of birthday angst for long.

Dr. Bowern, with her unmistakable British/Australian combo accent, declared this morning, erasing a reconstruction problem on the board, that we must "rid ourselves of these turbulent gammas!" This morning, in a discussion of the intervocalic rhotic shift at the ends of Latin words like flos, she noted the exception "formosus", a word Catullus uses, so she says, "in the sense of 'hot chick', 'together bloke', or 'hoopy frood'." And then, after a slightly discouraging Aural Skills, Dr. Englebretson informed us calmly that the answer to the homework question as to whether Indonisian has a copula is not just "no," but "Hell, no!"

Then, walking home, there were two professor-looking guys tending a solar oven on the grass next to the dumpster entrance. They greeted me enthusiastically as I walked by, and I asked them what they were cooking. Just water, for practice, but cool!

And now I have SG-1 season 9! Plus about six new Bobs albums and two different performances of The Hour-Glass and Barber's Reincarnations and the anthology of sheet music to the King's Singers Christmas album. No studio this afternoon, so maybe I can take my computer to the Apple Store and get Garageband to work so I can record all the parts to every song in there and fulfill my lifelong dream of becoming the King's Singers. Who, by the way, are performing in Stude on November 14th! I can't wait to get tickets.

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One set of proto-calluses later, and I know how to weave Byzantine chain, and I have a sterling silver bracelet. Two projects left in the kit mama gave me, but this is the only one I'd learn anything from, so I may just use the fancy rings and make an aran or something, instead of two more bracelets.

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Dan showed up and graciously took us to the Apple Store (where I discovered I ought to reinstall my OS, again), and then to Hungry's, where I drank some water because I was full despite not having eaten anything real all day.

The orchestra concert was lovely. Berlioz Roman Carnival Overture was cute, and as far as I could tell Bryan was tremendous in the Ravel Rapsodie Espagnole. He came and sat with us after intermission, and bobbed and wove and made vague conducting gestures as he is wont to do, but I managed to ignore most of it and enjoy the Shostakovich. though I'd agree with Ben that the audience should get an F for the night; there was coughing, unwrapping, two separate crystal-clear, quiet-moment Nokia rings, and a monumental amount of sneezing.

There's apparently a wine and cheese thing the boys are going to, at the house of Ariella Perlman (daughter of Itzhak), with med students, but I don't really know her, so I'm going to sleep instead to prepare mightily for my meeting in the morning with Stuart Hinds, king of ego.