One of the impulses behind Emmett's decision to play baseball this year was working out with his friends over the last six weeks (and getting really buff). But it reminded him of how much he enjoyed being with other people.

And I kind of want to throw this notion out to the Buffistas for comment, because this is something I've discussed with him. I've said to him: "You really enjoy being social with other people, but you don't naturally tend to choose to be around others. You'll choose your own company and then start to miss being around other humans."

Anybody have any affinity or insight with that notion?

As I was showing Matilda Whitney Houston's "I Want To Dance With Somebody" --

Aww. I was out dancing, and a friend texted me right after someone came up and said 'Did you hear??" Later in the evening they played a medley of some of her hits.

"You really enjoy being social with other people, but you don't naturally tend to choose to be around others. You'll choose your own company and then start to miss being around other humans."

Anybody have any affinity or insight with that notion?

I'm not sure that I am wired exactly that way, but I have a similar extroverted-introvert thing going on. I don't know that I actually miss being around other humans so much as sometimes I feel lonely in my apartment. But that's more a being-single thing, really.

Anybody have any affinity or insight with that notion?

He'll choose to be around them when he's low on human time, and needs them. It's not unhealthy, and trying to be any other way would be bad for him. Barring brain issues, people do pretty well figuring out what they need in terms of social time.

I choose to be by myself, because it's all I can handle consistently and responsibly. You makes yer choices and you takes yer chances.

I am currently being creepy by going through the work intranet and linkedin and putting co-workers photos in my contact book.

But they're publicly available!

It's only mildly disturbing, right? Right?

It just ups the usability so greatly.

Skipping (as much as it's possible, with this huge piles of exams to grade all over me. And yes, I do have this silly picture in my head of a bouncy skippy little thing underneath all these spread out notebookes and papers and the like, raising them a wee bit with each bounce, like a tiny moving dirt-under-the-rug. Um, where was I?) first and foremost, to apologize to -t, who, according to the Buffista Calendar, had a birthday yesterday, and I didn't get to get to a computer to send her all the wishes she so deserves, on time.

Happy second-day-of-your-new-age, -t! With lots of wishes for a wonderful year!

Also, today is a double Buffista event, with the borthdays of both Pix and MFNlaw.

Happy birthday, Pix! Happy birthday, Maria! With lots of wishes for a great day and a wonderful year!

Yay, middle of the night working!

The first hour went unremarkably, the second hour was spent on a conference call fixing stuff, well within schedule, and the third hour seems to have been unremarkable. I am able to watch Running Scared inbetween, and it looks like we'll be done at 3:15 or so, and I'm off to the ER!

Please please let this happen!

Happy birthday, ladies---t, Pix, and Maria! Much celebrations for you.

Happy Birthday, Maria and Pix!

ita, I hope the ER visit goes smoothly.

Happy Birthday Pix! Happy Birthday Maria!

"You really enjoy being social with other people, but you don't naturally tend to choose to be around others. You'll choose your own company and then start to miss being around other humans."

I have to say, I really relate to that. I am fine on my own, and sometimes I feel put out by social invitations. But I do really love hanging out with people and feel much happier when I do. For me, there's often social anxiety that isn't really outwardly noticeable that keeps me from avoiding invites at times, or reaching out when I want more company.

I spent yesterday watching series one of Downton Abbey feeling slightly headachy and very blah. I suspect it's the height (or depth) of the Winter Blues.