Well, I met the inestimatable Dr. Chompers last night, and Dr. Y and I made three at Cockeysville's premier faux Irish pub/restaurant. I ordered the spinach salad, which came generously topped with ham, turkey, and provolone cheese, served in a crispy tortilla shell.

I proceeded to pick off the meats and cheese, and eat about two cups of spinach leaves. I didn't touch the tortilla shell, either.

I was so pround of myself until this morning when I realized I paid $8 for two cups of spinach leaves.

And then I remembered Dr. Chompers picked up the tab.

Sweeeeet.

Well, the stink from those egg jokes has roused me from my blogging sabatical. Phee-eew.

Things are humming along here in the Petard-i-verse. The Professor is my new best friend, and he is very funny. Work SUCKs. I'm thinking about a change of scenery. Any suggestions?

Also, I am on spring break, but didn't go anywhere 'cause I'm saving my money for HONDURAS this summer, so I am bo-o-o-red. I'm actually about to make a Jello mold. That's how bored.

Well the world keep turning in the Petard-i-verse. I spent a lovely weekend with the Professor. At church on Sunday, the usher asked us to bring up the gifts (communion wafers, wine, and water). So we walked up the aisle together. I was TERRIFIED of dropping and breaking the crystal decanters so the obvious joke escaped me...

Atlas called it on Monday when he said, "When you got up to the alter you should have looked at him and whispered 'I do'."

Oh 20/20 hindsight.

Well, dear readers, my romance with the Professor continues on a pace. This weekend, he took me to a FACULTY MIXER. I was very, very apprehensive. I felt like a lamb among mutton (for lack of a semi-decent analogy). But it was okay. Not my idea of fun, mind, but okay. I will say that faculty are considerably less pretentious than grad students. Go figure.

Also this weekend, the Professor and I played Scrabble, and I won by a landslide despite Dr. Y's not-so-very-helpfulness. I say "atoil" is too a word, OED be damned!

I have had a sneeze that refuses to come for almost 48 hours. This is torture. Oh what can I do?

Well, I suppose you are all waiting with bated breath to hear about my dinner date with the Professor. It was entirely lovely, except for one part.

You see, after dinner, I had a hankering for gum or a mint. I had noticed a basket of mints in the bathroom. I mentioned the mints, and like a gentleman, the Professor went to procure one for me. As soon as he left the table, the waitress brought the check. Now, I knew that the Professor intended to pay. But some perverse - I mean utterly, utterly PERVERSE - part of me thought, "Wouldn't it be funny if he came back, and I'd paid the check?" So I did.

Funny? I am a FLIPPING IDIOT. The check was $91 with tip. Why did I do that? Am I such a man hater that I can't allow them even the pleasure of chivalry? Am I some sort of financial masochist? Was the expression of bewilderment worth $91? Is there any expression the human face can make that's worth $91?

Did anyone notice the Astronomy Picture of the Day today? Did you see how the BLG-109 Planetary System has a QUESTION MARK-SHAPED planet???

Chompers and Yakalumpf, drop your research and get on this immediately. I smell a Nobel.