Do you remember when the dentists would come visit your elementary school? (Did this happen at anyone else's school?) At our school, they'd bring toothbrushes and small tubes of toothpaste for each kid, and talk about the importance of brushing and flossing regularly. But the thing I remember the most is those pink disclosing tablets. (Warning: the link takes you to a relatively gross photo.) Remember those? You'd chew them up, swirl them around in your mouth, and then the pink would show up on your teeth wherever you hadn't brushed thoroughly enough. I can still remember exactly how those things tasted. Ahh, memories!

We dropped Zack off at the airport last night, and this morning the house feels strangely empty. It's always that way after a guest leaves, but somehow it's more palpable this time. Maybe that's because, from Friday through Monday, our house was filled with nonstop chatter and laughter from these two guys. They had the best time, and I don't think I'm overstating it by saying it was John's Best Birthday Weekend EVER. Both Friday night and Saturday night, John and Zack sat hunched over our coffee table, putting together... putting together... well, to be frank, I'm not sure what it was. All I know is that at one point, a faint electrical fire smell filled the room, prompting John to say, "well, that didn't work!" And both nights I slipped off to bed, completely unnoticed and unmissed, which is exactly what I'd hoped would happen, Scout's Honor. At one point on Friday night I looked over at them while they were working furiously on The Gadget, and I couldn't stop smiling. I would have taken a photo of the two of them, but I thought that would interrupt their brainwavery, so I opted not to. Sunday, The Gadget having been finished, we took Zack to Blue Highway Pizza, otherwise known as The Best Pizza In Gainesville (Well, Except That It's Not In Gainesville). That evening we hung out and talked, and I was none too surprised when the evening slowly devolved into hysterical giggling about the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (whose acronym is PNAS... I'll let that stew for a minute). Monday was mostly focused on getting Zack to the airport, and everyone was understandably subdued. We'd had an awesome weekend, but we all wanted it to last longer. (Right, Zack? ...Zack?) Once we got to the airport, I couldn't help remarking out loud that it felt like Zack had just gotten here, and everyone agreed. John and I had a quiet drive home, talking every now and again about how nice it was to see Zack. When John remarked that he'd forgotten to tell Zack something, that he just didn't have enough time, I knew exactly what he meant.

I've got lots to say about John's birthday weekend with Zack, but right now I'm grading a mountain of papers. So instead, I'll leave you with a LolCat, courtesy of I Can Haz Cheezburger.

About four years ago, when we'd lived in Gainesville only a few months, I made an appointment with a... erm... lady doctor for a checkup. Since I was a new patient, she had a number of basic questions for me, starting with occupation. When I told her I was a graduate student working towards my PhD, she snorted and said, "well, if you think that's best!" I smiled politely and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt; she probably thought she was being clever, not rude. Ahem. When she asked my age (26 at the time), she also asked if John and I had kids yet. I told her we didn't and her eyebrows shot up. She then went on to lecture me that we should start having kids if we ever wanted them, that my chances were slip-slip-slipping away (while, it went without saying, I wasted my time in graduate school), and she suggested I start taking folic acid in preparation.

What strikes me now, years after the incident, is that I didn't say anything to this woman. At the time, I decided not to make an issue of it because she probably thought she was being helpful. But I think it's important to speak your mind when you feel strongly about something. In this case, I feel strongly about my right to decide if and when I want children, and this woman-- whether she knew it or not-- was badgering me. So why didn't I speak up? Was it shock? Social etiquette? Shyness? It still puzzles me.

"Isolated showers" versus "scattered showers": is there a legitimate difference?

There's a line in Working Girl that says, essentially, "Never underestimate what the American people will put in their mouths." And perhaps that was never more true than today. Please look, won't you, at an item I saw in the grocery store earlier this week: Batter Blaster. If you can't get to the link, or can't be bothered to click on the link, allow me to describe it to you. It's pancake mix in a can, a can much like a Reddi Wip can or even-- dare I make the comparison-- an Easy Cheese can. (HORK) When you go to the website, a 1950's-esque jingle sings out, "Make a better breakfast faster: Batter Blaster!" And what's that? It's organic! That means it's good for you, right? As long as you can get over the stomach-churningness of it all, that is.

We were talking about Communism in class yesterday and I got the students talking about freedom of speech. I asked if freedom of speech was always protected, or if the government would consider certain speech incendiary (which, of course, it does). One of my students raised his hand and said, "well, sure, you can take anything somebody says and twist it to see it a certain way, just like girls do." To which I said, "...what?" "Yeah," he said, "girls are always twisting guys' words around." And I had no choice but to say, "are you calling me fat?!?" You see how versatile the phrase is, then.