That is better. Of course nothing worked on my dad the control freak...sometimes estranged isn't all bad.

Getting rolled up in a towel is just good fun until someone tries to put drops in your eye.

This is SO true.

And, er, timelies! I have a bank check for the realtors for a craxy amount of money, in anticipation of the P&S tomorrow. Weird!

Oh, Plei, Lily is beautiful. And the pictures themselves are just exquisite, dreamy and lovely and suffused with grace.

In the color picture of you and Lily in bed, the one where she looks like a fat flannel burrito with a serene face peeping out at the top, you remind me a bit of Frida Kahlo -- the bed, the pulled-back hair, the direct and knowing gaze.

::bookmarks Lilypics forever::

Hopefully she isn't like my Psycho!Girlfriend in college and physically assaults people when awaken.

I had a Psycho!Boyfriend who did that. Now I want to hook them up and drop a box of clattery pots and pans outside the bedroom door just to see what happens next. Merely in the spirit of scientific inquiry, of course.

Hec was upstaged by a puppet at the reading in Chicago -- the puppeteer just sent him a tape of the reading and we all watched it last night. Much as I love Hec, my biggest squee was when the camera panned around to the audience and I saw Tom Scola.

Mom's phrase for dealing with unwanted advice (especially at her old job) was "You're probably right." or "You could be right." And then let it go. I've used that a couple of times and she's knows to back off.

She gets especially freaky when I talk about taking trips by myself (which I rarely if ever do), and when she treats me like I'm in capable I do end up doubting my abilities. That works better than "christ! you don't treat my brother like this!"

At 51 I just say "Yes, Mother" when she gives me advice. It cracks her up every time. This way she is allowed to do her motherly duty and tell me how to fix my life while not actually expecting me to follow said advice.

ometimes, it's hard for DH to take ME to Home Depot

You have to drag me out of Home Depot kicking and screaming. I just want to go up and down the aisles with multiple carts and bring it all home. Tools!

Lily is wee and beautiful and perfect looking.

Much as I love Hec, my biggest squee was when the camera panned around to the audience and I saw Tom Scola.

Because Scola is a ROCK STAR, duh.

(I seem to be abusing ASSCAPS across all threads and my LJ today. I feel so daring.)

Home Depot is so overwhelming. It exhausts me.

I took my bath and I finally feeling better. Let me bore you all with an example of my relationship with my mother: I still have about a dozen boxes of books that I haven't unpacked from my move a few months ago. I was so exhausted, sore, and stressed the week of the move that I never was able to finish the unpacking of the books, and I haven't found the motivation to finish the project since. Rarely do I have a conversation with my mother that she doesn't mention at least three times that I need to unpack those books or beg me to let her unpack them for me (beg is not an exaggeration). The more she hounds me about it the less inclined I feel to do it because it stresses me out to think about it. I have explained this to my mother, who doesn't care. So the books remain, and I am not looking forward to the day I finally unpack them so she can smugly say "now isn't that so much better".

I like home improvement stores in theory. The stuff looks great and I could bring it all home with me. But then I'd have to do the work.