I am feeling a little guilty about eating in with microwaved frozen entrees and carrots and olives and a nice but unexpectedly garlicky cheese. But why go out to eat? It's dark here before 6 pm, as well, which removes my usual woodland walks as an evening outing.
I'm in a flare, with various bits of my dermis screaming, "Itch, itch, itch," or at least presenting small swollen lumps of discomfort. Is that an excuse? (Or is staying in introducing too much temptation that i will go scratch scratch scratch?)
I was called upon to make a presentation today, a bit unexpected. Poor voice: i was trying to project to the large room, and i felt i was straining it a good bit. That and public speaking nerves. I feel i did well, so i'll pat myself on the back for that. One particular colleague engaged in a bit of eye-rolling around a particular response. This particular person seems to have an issue with our team or our team's work or something. And unfortunately, he's pretty highly placed in the organization.
Christine and i had a very enjoyable long conversation last night. The topic itself was not very enjoyable, starting from the violence of Friday night in Paris. Christine's favorite contemporary philosopher, Slavoj Žižek, had been part of a round table discussing the film Children of Men, and she had just finished marking up her transcription of the discussion for her blog. (I don't see it at http://ideaspeak.us/2015/11/ ... maybe it's going up in an undated section?) Ten years out and the discussion (and presumably the film) is remarkably pertinent, she notes. I never watched the film -- it looked depressing, and i don't need help in that direction -- but i might read the book.
 It took a number of attempts at a phonetic spelling before Bing figured out which "philosopher and social critic" my following jumble of letters was supposed to mean.