Here’s the story.
I”ve been a bit ‘sensitive’ today what with all the late nights, early mornings and constant frank talks with myself that the late nights and early mornings would be more productive if I didn’t procrastinate so durn much. It’s more than the blogging…the blogging is actually a short break to get a thought out of my head. It’s the aimless wandering, it’s the facebook (god, its the facebook), it’s the staring into space, it’s the starting a sentence and……
About an hour ago, I decided I needed a change of venue, so I ran across the street to Starbucks with a gazillion articles in hand and a whack of highlighters and pens. I was gonna read the eff out of those papers! I actually got halfway through a rather interesting paper that fit in with a bunch of awesome, so I was patting myself on the back for doing that last minute search at Rutger’s OT archive (no, I couldn’t hear about the Imus story without thinking of OT) and this group of two men and a little boy sat down beside me.
They started talking and I was still interested in cluster formants (turns out /tl/ and /dl/ are perceptually alot like /kl/ and /gl/ so that’s why we’ve got that phonotactic gap in English…at least according to this guy who’s name is somewhere in my bag). Slowly, though, their conversation started to sink in.
One guy was telling the other about speaking at his wife’s funeral. Jesus. The little boy was there with them. It sounded recent. Annnnd…I had to leave ’cause my eyes were starting to tear up.
Poor guy. Poor kid. Poor me.
(kidding about the poor me part)