I'm just shocked (!) that shrift hasn't conned a gullible cow-orker into pushing the button yet.

Too busy ogling the Fug. And, shockingly, working.

Too busy ogling the Fug. And, shockingly, working.

3) Oh, honey, we've already seen your plumage.

We have teh winnar!

Hi there!

Poor Franny just had a new outbreak, so I'm gonna need to stay home with her tomorrow. It kind of feels like my spring break started early. I'm even ignoring my grading, just to celebrate.

PS, toddlers on benedryl = fun. nee.

burrell! poor Franny. hey, also? please to read my LJ. thanks.

I have conquered teh scary NYU library of doom! Well, at least I found books, made copies, and took books out. And did not kill myself. I did have to scurry back to my own school to dick around in a computer lab, though -- I swear to god everyone over there was doing actual work on the computers. I must have been in the wrong area or something.

Visit lovely New Ephemera (PDF):

New Ephemera was founded in 1624 by British explorer jeremiah van Wessel who was on his way to chart the coast of Australia but got lost. van Wessel fell in love with the natural beauty of the island, and he and most of his crew decided to settle there to conduct natural philosophical experiments.

Most of the Fug is marvelous, but it makes me incredibly sad that the Fug girls are dissing ballgowns with pockets. Pockets rule!

Though admittedly I may be unusually susceptible to the combination of extremely formal formalwear and the jauntiness of hands in pockets. This morning before work Hec and I were watching an extremely minor late 30s screwball comedy in which Lew Ayres plays a rich and spoiled college boy who falls in with taxi dancer Lana Turner and finds out what's really important in life, and every time he slounged in a doorway in his white-tie tux with his hands jammed in his pockets, I wibbled hard.

Not as hard as I wibbled at the way he danced with Lana, his not-small hand against the naked small of her back (black satin backless gown), but there was definite wibblage.

I'm not wibbling at the photos posted by the Fuggers due to incorrect sexual orientation, but still -- can they not see how unbearably stylish and jaunty Sandra Bullock and Amy Adams look? The jaunt is right before their eyes; how can they deny it?

I read your LJ, msbelle, but I'm a Mac girl. But maybe tonight. I can see if my DH's PC is seaworthy.

I saw, thanks.

Though admittedly I may be unusually susceptible to the combination of extremely formal formalwear and the jauntiness of hands in pockets.

Well, guys -- yes. Women -- no. Formal gowns should not have pockets. One might as well wear jeans.