A work environment should not contain visible belly buttons, navel jewelry, cleavage, or the top of your thong. Unless you work on a pole.
Beverly is so very much me. I'd like to go ahead and extend it to my alma mater's campus as well. And, well, the whole world, but that's another day.
I have a really unnattractive navel. Seconding the wish for that trend to vanish.
Rice
Why does it have the name of a food?
(And my inner-Jewish-mommy wants to know if they have enough soup there, of course, too, to go with it.)
But, seriously - I think it's great that the new-for-you city has people that you're already comfortable with. Especially if other elements in it are still insane. I hope things will work out for you, regardless, too. You've already taken several strong and brave steps, in both the family and the job/future departments, IIRC, so I'm sure you're in the right path, at least, even with the obstacles along it.
Although, sometimes cleavage is hard to contain depending on your endowment. I have found that tops that would have looked modest on me when I was a size 6 or even a ten make me look like a hooker in a size 18.
Usually I just wear a scarf if I wear a v-neck shirt, though.
A work environment should not contain visible belly buttons, navel jewelry, cleavage, or the top of your thong.
"Tut, tut!" Beverly exclaimed. "The very notion!"
Why does it have the name of a food?
Because of William Marsh Rice.
You've already taken several strong and brave steps, in both the family and the job/future departments, IIRC, so I'm sure you're in the right path, at least, even with the obstacles along it.
Thanks. Me too.
Why does it have the name of a food?
I'm mostly sure it's named after a person, not a starch. Mostly.
I have a really unnattractive navel. Seconding the wish for that trend to vanish.
There's a trend towards unattractive navels?
t runs away
I'm mostly sure it's named after a person, not a starch.
[link]
On May 13, 1891, Massachusetts-born businessman William Marsh Rice chartered the William Marsh Rice Institute for the Advancement of Literature, Science, and Art as a gift to the city of Houston, where he made his fortune. The terms of the charter required that work on the new institute would begin only after Rice's death.
On September 23, 1900, Rice was chloroformed to death by his valet, Charlie Jones, who had conspired with an unscrupulous lawyer, Albert Patrick, to murder the aging millionaire and claim his estate using a forged will. When an autopsy ordered by Rice's attorney, Captain James A. Baker, revealed evidence of poisoning, Jones agreed to provide state's evidence in return for immunity from prosecution. Patrick was convicted of murder and sent to Sing Sing. He was pardoned in 1912, the same year that classes began at the Rice Institute.
I think more universities need something like that second paragraph. Chloroformed-to-death-by-valet definitely spices up the usual "rich dude wants his name immortalized" story.
(And I'm in the middle of rereading Anne of Green Gables, and remembering how Marilla made Anne three dresses and thought that was plenty, while I've got probably thirty shirts, six or seven pairs of pants, four dresses, and about eight skirts. She had less laundry, but considering the difference in laundry technology, it was probably more work.)
(I'm totally rereading it now, too!! Bwahahaha!)