stgulik

This picture keeps appearing on my Facebook feed. For those of you on mobile, it's a little picture of a person (man?) with long black hair, wearing a dark-colored suit with cuffs, holding hands over eyes. The caption says, "You deserve to be happy." It's an ad for inexpensive therapy.



Let's leave aside the disturbing fact that Facebook's algorithm has diagnosed me as needing inexpensive therapy. Whenever I spot this ad out of the corner of my eye, it reminds me of young Severus Snape. Well, no, the hair's too good. It reminds me of a cosplaying young Severus Snape. And who deserves to be happy more than Severus Snape?

So if you feel like it, in the comments, write a 100-word drabble about Severus Snape in therapy. Bonus points if he doesn't exactly want to be there.

Artwork by the lovely and talented Makani.

6) Only one more year of her borrowing my sweaters, stretching them (or worse, washing them in hot water) and dropping them on the floor of her room.

5) What if she moves out by this time next year? What if she doesn't?

4) We're going to need a second mortgage to pay for all the senior year stuff. And that's before college.

3) Why do all the boys in her circle douse themselves in Axe body spray? Axe body spray should be a government-controlled substance, the kind you have to sign for at the pharmacy.

2) Her boyfriend will soon have his license and can drive her to school, so I won't have to. This is only slightly less disturbing than the prospect of her getting her own driver's license and borrowing my car and washing it in hot water and dropping it on the floor of her room. Oh wait. That doesn't happen.

And the Number One reaction to my baby being a senior in high school:

1) How did she get so old when I haven't changed a bit?

It really did seem like my last post was an April Fool's joke, didn't it? I thought so, too, until I looked into it. Sure enough, Oregon has introduced a bill (HB 2638, Thompson) that will start a pilot project designed to improve the health of state workers by installing treadmills at their desks.

As a public employee who sits at a desk all day, I'm here to say, it's impossible to type with sweaty fingers. But far be it from me to deprive other state workers the chance to exercise.

The one thing that's ever improved my health at work is taking a mile-long walk every morning with a few select coworkers. We would goad each other to put on sneakers and come out for some exercise. Those were good days. And it also proved peer pressure can be a positive motivating force for better health ... hey! I should write a bill! I'll call it the Positive Peer Pressure Physical Phitness Pilot Project (P7 for short). Isn't that catchy?

A co-worker today has huge stacks of dusty-looking old library books on her desk.

Me: You look like a real researcher today - like Indiana Jones hitting the books, looking for the Holy Grail.

Co-worker: I've always wanted to know how an academic professor got so good with a whip.

Me: [Before I could stop myself] Ooh, fan fiction!

Hey, just add it to my cumbersome list of fanfic ideas for 2013.

Via my mother, I give you the nude men clock. (SFW unless your boss is standing very, verrry close to the screen.) You have to watch until you see the minute-hand men tapping their feet impatiently, and then release balloons when the second-hand men finally reach twelve. And I haven't been able to catch them at it yet, but I think whenever you click away, they laze around and read fanfiction.

Seen everywhere, but most recently on George Takai's FB page.

Dramione is definitely far from my OTP, but my spare time (I think I already told you) I am a validator for Hawthorn & Vine so I spend part of every other week in that world.

There are some interesting eighth-year themes that are common to that pairing. One I keep running into is Head Boy Must Room With Head Girl. Usually, the excuse is that Hermione and Draco have returned to finish their education, but oh no! What to do? All the beds are full! Before you know it, they are thrown together in their own cozy suite, where sparks fly and hilarity ensues.

To my way of thinking, this idea is almost as implausible as the Marriage Law.
(  Conspiracy theory and bodacious story idea inside! )

Wow! I didn't see this when it was posted. Even though it's somebody's idea of an April Fool's joke, I would totally watch it.

Via shyfoxling: The Who meme:

Your job is now your Time Lord name.
"The Researcher"! I think it's brilliant. Because you never know what a researcher is really researching, especially when one is staring at you with somewhat myopic fascination. There's a vaguely sinister  quality to the name.

The last digit of your phone number is the current regeneration you are in.
Which phone number? I think I'll use my work number, since it's the lowest: 2.

The nearest clothing item to your right is now the most notable item in your current wardrobe.
Here at work, my nearest clothing item is a long, maroon cashmere shawl. I wear it to staff meetings because the meeting room is notoriously cold. It's draped fetchingly over the back of the guest chair when not in use. It sheds and it smells like an old pet. I love it. It will be terribly useful when braving the vagaries of time and space.

The last person you texted is your current companion.
My daughter. She's about to learn how to drive a car, but would switch to a TARDIS in a heartbeat. This could be trouble.

Your favorite word is now your catchphrase.
 My catchphrase is "Not that I'm bitter." It's how I end all my tales of woe. I think it could come in useful as the galaxy's newest Time Lord.

EDIT: I've been asking around, and people say my actual favorite word is "excellent." As in, "Hey, St. Gulik, there's a ticket on your car." "Excellent."