Oh yes! Gah! I meant to say the same: good luck and congrats and GOOD FOR YOU for making the very smart and difficult choice of waiting to decided whether or not you want to get married.

The ones that are so obviously fake just make me sad.

That's why when we decided to go the fake tree route, we just went with the most artificial-looking tree we could find. Sparkly sparkly white tinsel! (At the time, I didn't know of the existance of pink sparkly trees. But I don't think I could have talked Pete into a pink tree, anyway.)

Congratulations, Kalshane!

Deena, I'm still having problems believing Nick is 21 now.

The ones that are so obviously fake just make me sad.

I take that to mean you passed on the upside down one?

Dear SUV driving asstard. I recognized you from last week when I parked next to you in the Safeway parking lot today. I'm now ranting here to make up for biting my lip earlier this afternoon. Yes, your monster may be able to travel faster on ice than my roller skate of a car. (though I see plenty of SUVs in our local ditches.) But when I'm in front of you, I am not driving faster than my car will safely travel; that is a slower speed on ice than on asphalt or concrete. I will pull to the right to let you pass at first opportunity. In the meantime neither honking nor tailgating will cause my car to go faster.

Fuck you very much

Gar

I think I'm going to go get my first fake tree tomorrow morning. (allergies make real an absolute impossibility). The pink sparkly tree is appealing.

Daisy, I hope, most of all, that you are having a smashing time tonight. That's what I notice most when i'm out with friends.

Aww. Thank you. I hope so too! I love this band. Southern Fried versions of the Pixies and Emenim? All over that. Plus, hanging out with old/new friends? Cherry on top.

We did wash the regular pair of jeans that fit me, which I'm wearing with a fitted denim button down, white t-shirt underneath, boots and a brown suede jacket.

Congratulations Kashlane! (I just read Beep Me to figure out what all the kudos were for) Seconding the "go you" for waiting to decide on getting married. My cousin and her son's father are doing the same, and that seems to be working out really well.

Congrats, Kalshane! (And, er, the mother is the woman I met, right? With whom we shared many stories? I liked her.)

Thread's dead, so I'm gonna emo on it.

You know how there are things you hate bitching about, because know you should be off counting your blessings re: things surrounding those things, which just makes you all the more cranky, because then you've whipped guilt into the mix?

But then they just sort of fester and grow, a big black oozing pile of ick under the skin, in serious need of emotional lancing?

The reduction of the Emergency Babysitting Forces by half as a result of Mother's cancer is one of those things.

I almost made this a Where I Am Not LJ Entry, except I'm sick of those, and anyhow, it's not about the specific location or event that I'm not at or attending. It's mostly about the frustration of occasionally needing/desiring to get out of the house, without the kidlet, for something other than work or an appointment, and the frustration of how impossible that seems to be. I mean, it was hard enough when we could suck it up and ask both sets of grandparents, but now that we're down to an Only Option*, and our Only Option is usually pretty well scheduled, I'm feeling tied down and screwed, and not in a good way.

I can count on one hand, after 19 and a half months, how many times we've gone anywhere together as Adults rather than Parents, and two of those times were birthday dinners for one person (and of the other two, one was Placebo, the other Serenity). And while I get that that's part of the gig, and that it'll get easier as the girl gets older and we feel more comfortable leaving her with anyone other than a grandparent, right now neither of those things is making me feel better.

The inner fox, on seeing that the grapes are too high up, and that the ladder's AWOL, is attempting the cold comfort of, "Well, you're feeling cranky and anti-social, anyhow, so going out to Dray's party probably would have sucked, even if you'd been able to get a sitter!" The inner fox, of course, is attempting to ignore two things: a, that I would probably be feeling less cranky, and therefore less anti-social, if I had hot and cold running childcare; and b: when moody and anti-social, hanging out with your snarky, sarcastic, and generally entertaining work buds is actually a hell of a lot easier than attempting to put on a happy face while you entertain a toddler who finds the word "no" to be utterly hilarious.

I just had to call Paul up from the basement, to his dismay, because I needed to go off and find some new rope, being at the end of mine. Ah, tag-team parenting.

And I've gone and made footnotes again. I ought to break myself of that habit.

* Other people have offered, but I don't yet feel like it's fair to them or the kidlet to take them up on it, and besides, they wouldn't be the "call in a pinch and beg" sort, so it wouldn't do any good when I suddenly remember, that, hell, the thing I was going to try to arrange sitting for a few weeks ago, but didn't, what with the cancer drama and the interviewing stress and the holidays and all, is only a day away, as happened yesterday.

Deena, I'm still having problems believing Nick is 21 now.

So am I. He had just turned 17 when I joined the board. I can't believe it's been so long. It seems like no time at all.

The reduction of the Emergency Babysitting Forces...

Ah, Plei. I'm sorry. Nick is our only emergency babysitter, and we can't leave the kids with him long enough for them to need a change of diaper. It sucks a lot. In the last two years, we've been out to see two movies, Serenity and PoTC2, and that's it. No dinners, no dates, no time. It's really brain-deadening. I'm so sorry. I don't even have all the attendant upset that you do. I can't imagine. I hope you find someone you can trust to call up in a pinch.