I think I'll go for a walk.
I must have some of the coolest friends in the world.
I went back to the Cliché and Collusion with 30s Gangster, and oh the fun. We (she--I just stood there looking happy) even got to be interviewed by the girl with the clipboard. Last time I did that I got like a $15 gift certificate to the MOA souvenir shop thing.
School's going pretty great, except that Theoretical Syntax is evil. As far as I can figure out, we're learning to understand language in the same way computers do. There's a reason people beat supercomputers at chess, people. Why the heck am I trying to emulate one?
Apparently, I may have some Canadian Native American in me. By this I mean America the continent, Canada the country, by which I mean some great grandpa RCMP or something went out and found him a nice native girl, eh?
Problem is that all of the names I know on that side of the family are the grandparents still kicking old age's trash. I mean, it's a good thing they're still around, but it doesn't help me to identify my grandma Veda Pilling LeBaron's parentals. Her records don't emerge until she's buried. I'll have to ask my dad to send me a family tree, and so forth.
Other than Eskimos, I have unfortunately never heard of a Native...Canadian before. And apparently Canada shares the honor of Eskimos with Greenland -- today in Phonology we learned about the phonological structure of the Greenlandic Eskimo tongue (language). I hear there's even a picture of my Non-Indo-European foremother and her husband. That would be cool, eh?
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