Over the past week, I’ve been called “Stephen” in two separate professional contexts by two people who ought to know my name. Starting to wonder if there’s something they know that I don’t.
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I hurt myself on a pizza cutter last night—but not even on the blade? Somehow that last detail is absurd enough that I’m more upset about that than the injury itself.
It’s been a long day at the end of a long week, but it ended with an “are you working on anything interesting so I can write about it?” message from a reporter and a kind compliment from a grad school friend, so all in all, not too bad.
Going through old things and found a letter from my grandfather. It’s all typed except for a signature and a handwritten line at the very top: “All errors, be it spelling, grammar, etc., are fault of computer!!”
help us find a new Director for our School of Information Science!
I’m currently on a search committee for the new director of our School of Information Science, and it’s kind of neat that academics get to hire their own bosses. My students’ minds were blown yesterday when I explaned this.
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