Ack, I was returning my realtor's call (basically, she'd been playing phone tag with the seller all day but expected to get the counter from him tomorrow and wanted to let me know) when the other line rang and it was the seller.

Why do I think I'm going to be wired again tonight?

When I lived in Australia, the kids thought PBJs were PBJello sandwiches. No wonder they all thought AMericans were nusto for eating them.

This, from the country that gave the world vegemite.

Until they start putting HFCS in vegemite, I'm still claiming moral high ground.

FTR, I was always aware that PBJs involved jam rather than jelly. I still regard it as merely a product of America's unhealthy fascination with putting peanut butter in places where it patently does not belong.

You're telling me there's something worse than - gasp - marmite?

It's basically an Aussie version thereof. Its original name was Parwill, with the slogan "If Marmite, Parwill".

I was always aware that PBJs involved jam rather than jelly

You thought it stood for peanut butter and jam?

JZ, thanks! How did I miss that plagiarism brouhaha? Buffistas fell down on the job of keeping me up to date.

I am so pissed. Slowly I realise which software bits are missing from my rebuilt PC, and I realise that my licensed copy of Typograf is nowhere to be seen for reinstallation. So I have no decent Windows font manager. On the upside I finally found my copy of Adobe Professional 8, but still. I don't need to print anything to PDF right now, and I do want to evaluate fonts.

You thought it stood for peanut butter and jam?

No, I knew it stood for jelly, but that what Americans call jelly, we call jam, and what we call jelly, they call jell-o.

I keep thinking it was something like wecanseeyou.blogspot.com or the like.

That rings a bell. I think you're thinking of you thought we wouldn't notice....

I found it! You thought we wouldn't notice!.

that what Americans call jelly, we call jam, and what we call jelly, they call jell-o.

Aha. That. I can hardly keep track these days.

Y'all, I think it's on.

He's agreed to the roof. He's agreed to the plumbing and electrical stuff. He agreed to 1/2 what I asked for the deck (keep in mind, we based it off 1/2 of what the neighbor's ginormous deck cost and that's maybe 3x what I'll probably do-she's got a finished ground-floor area with fence et al.) He volunteered to pay for replacing the water damaged doors, but I'll be stuck with the cost of the main front and back, whatever I decide to do there.

That works for me. I go sign the agreement to the counter probably tomorrow. EeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE uh EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEuh EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Now let's hope there aren't too many bumps in the next while and they do a decent job.

Jill Price: The Woman Who Can’t Forget

The three UC Irvine scientists who studied her decided that her case deserved its own name—hyperthymestic syndrome, academic Greek for "exceptional memory"—and it’s not hard to see why.

I come prepared with a stack of questionnaires, and when we return to her house, Price is kind enough to let me administer my tests, easily blowing through the first few. I ask, for example, if she can tell me some dates of famous accidents and airline crashes; she’s all but unstoppable. She instantly retrieves from memory the exact dates of the explosions of space shuttle Challenger and Pan Am flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland. She remembers not just that September 25, 1978, was when a PSA flight crashed in San Diego but also that the jet collided with a Cessna. She can go in either direction, disaster to date or date to disaster. When I say "January 13, 1982," Price has no trouble recalling the Air Florida flight that plummeted into the Potomac.

According to McGaugh’s Neurocase article, Price is even more astounding on the events of her own life. At the scientists’ behest, for example, she recalled—without warning and in just 10 minutes—what she’d done on every Easter since 1980. "April 6, 1980: 9th grade, Easter vacation ends. April 19, 1981: 10th grade, new boyfriend, H. April 11, 1982: 11th grade, grandparents visiting for Passover ..

x-post with tommy. That feels better, having gotten that out of the way.

Congrats, sara!

Yay, Sara! Someone is anxious to get this off his hands and done with.