In massively trite news, I was back on the Harvard site looking at tests, and this one is supposed to predict your age: [link]. I'm going to take that as a compliment.

I took the test last night using the touchpad of my netbook and my lefthand. It estimated my age at 50. Today using my wrong hand on a mouse, it estimated my age at 31.

My father's old upholstery shop was donated for a training burn. Old wooden structure that had decades of lint in it, on top of having been a garage and gas station for decades before then. The fire department was all giddy about it, especially as one of the firemen was my BIL, so he knew all about the conditions of the place. They said beforehand that they knew it would go fast, so they were practicing keeping it from being a fireball and catching the rest of the area on fire. But looking at the pictures hurt.

I was back on the Harvard site looking at tests, and this one is supposed to predict your age: [link]. I'm going to take that as a compliment.

Hmm, they were very complimentary to me too, either that or their algorithm is off. I'm not that dexterous.

No test burns, but if you catch an episode of Chicago Fire in the next few weeks with a porch collapse, that's on my block.

That test was one year off; said 39, and I'm 40. But I used my numb hand, on painkillers, so I'll take that as a win.

I was back on the Harvard site looking at tests, and this one is supposed to predict your age: [link]. I'm going to take that as a compliment.

Hmm, they were very complimentary to me too, either that or their algorithm is off. I'm not that dexterous.

I feel pretty good. It guessed I was 29. I click like a 20-something! Woo!

I am the only one that is about as decrepit as I'm supposed to be? Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Y'all have youthful pixels, too.

Test thought I was twenty eight, and it can't even see my preternaturally perky breasts.

Actually, I'm in an email chain with my sister and another anthropologist at the university--li'l sis was asked to appear on a women's radio show about "fake women". And, because she is my sister (I think it can all be traced back to that) she came down on the side of "No, who are *you* to attribute virtue or lack thereof to shaved legs or horsehair weaves." I would have called in (to Jamaica) if I hadn't been working too hard during that half hour. But part of her point was "are you saying we shouldn't wear bras, then?"

Even the Rastas, who have a metric of "real" for women are still making aesthetic choices. Very few don't train their dreads.

I'm not done reading this either, but it's so beautiful it makes me sad: the mythology of homeless Miami pre-teens. That's some hardcore shit, man.

I'm pretty sure taking the click test would just make me depressed, so I'm not gonna.

Here's a FB status you don't see everyday:

Moonlighting as a primate surgeon this am

Cholecystectomy on a Francois Langur monkey.

ETA: and I just looked up what that is. Strix has some company this week.

ETAA: Friend posting is actually a transplant surgeon in La Jolla, so it's for real.