Oh, and on the subway I had a surprise. Actually, it was a surprise getting onto the subway: my old Metrocard had expired. I was getting ready to curse the need to buy a new one, but the vending machine was happy to issue me a replacement card with the old value still on it. This seems to raise the question of why have the old Metrocard expire. I guess once they've gone to the work of having cards expire it'd be a shame to just let that drop.
Odd feline quirks, a potentially limitless file: when I am wearing my dress shoes and enter the house, the cats run eagerly up to me and act eager to see me. When I am wearing my sandals and enter the house, the cats cannot be bothered to wake up. This means something, and I don't know what.
And not an update in my life but surely an update of something, somewhere: an Iranian group assembled what was intended to be the longest sandwich in the world. The 1.5-kilometer-long sandwich was made with 700 kilograms of chicken and 700 kilograms of ostrich meat. However, the sandwich was eaten before it could be officially measured for the Guinness Book of World Records. Organizers hope that the videotaped evidence of the sandwich's existence and length will suffice, and also that this will boost Iran's ostrich-farming business. Somehow even reading compatible reports on this from two news services doesn't make it sound less like a prank someone's trying to play on someone else.
Trivia: From 20 October 1907 through 27 June 1908, the total traffic between the Marconi company's stations at Clifden, Ireland, and Glace Bay, Nova Scotia, was 225,010 words, or about 896 words per day. Source: Thunderstruck, Erik Larson. (Transatlantic commercial wireless service began the 17th of October.)
Currently Reading: Forests Of The Night, S Andrew Swann. I did read this back around when it first came out, although at the time I didn't appreciate the Hardboiled Detective bits as much as I do now. I do remember thinking the punch line to the story was practically standing up and shouting, begging for attention and being obvious to people reading adjacent books, though, and it doesn't seem more subtle nowadays. The striking thing ot me is that at one point the protagonist does an Internet search, in all but name, and gets back pretty swiftly a near-enough Googlewhack (two hits, both --- what are the odds --- relevant to the plot) to his considerable surprise. He has to do this through the public library's systems rather than a private company, but on the other hand the library's search site has cutified icons so intense he wants to punch the screen out, foreshadowing both Google and Microsoft Bob.