katefate! It's so good to see you here!

Greetings, all. I'm still in the post-holiday daze, surrounded by the kids' new toys and the remnants of Christmas cookies. It's back to work (writing) today for me, but at least I can do it in my jammies if I please.

A few minutes. An hour. Whatever. Cindy 3 -- Anxiety 0 [link]

Amy, you know how the expectation used to be that women wear a lot of restrictive clothing, whether or not they wanted to, and that they'd never wear trousers in public? You know how that relaxed, to the point where there are even trouser-options in women's formal-wear? You know how women can wear jeans, and even sweats, to any number of public places, now?

I think we need to start a movement to relax the standard once again, such that jammies become acceptable public attire. Wanna start a movement?

Bah, just got word that my grandmother was in the hospital since Saturday with a heart problem. She is OK now, though, it seems, and will be released today.

I feel a bit flail-y and proto-sick. Am at work but I think I'll be leaving soon and be sick tomorrow too.

I think it's already begun, Cin, at least with teens. I see girls all the time at the mall in pajama pants. And sometimes slippers.

Comfy as they are, they're not the most flattering things, you know? With the big stretched out knees and all? Also, being in my jammies reduces me to a state of not wanting to go outside at all, if I can help it.

Go, Cindy!!!

{{{Nora}}} I'm sorry. Much ~ma to your grandmother.

I was woken up at 8:30 by a phone call (TCG's friends haven't caught on the the fact that calling me in the morning whether I am awake or not is never a good idea), but I decided that at least maybe I could be productive. So far, I am still in my pj's drinking tea.

Aimée's still there.

HEY!

KATE!! t tacklehug

Nora, do it. Go home and be you.

Hi, Amy and Aimee!

Aww, Cindy! "Who's a little fear demon?" I do that one all the time now, and it really works! They are so small and pathetic when they are conjured out into the open.

I know that urge to bolt. Hell I know the paralysis that keeps me at home, and inside and safe from the urge to bolt, and how many fun and interesting experiences have I missed because of them?

Good on you for toughing your way through it. (Is it appropriate to comment here? Should I do it offline? I feel like I'm relearning how to live in polite society.)

Before, when I didn't know the answer to "What's the point?" my quote was Natalie Wood from Miracle on 34th Street: "I believe... I believe... It's silly, but I believe." Because little demons made me not believe there was a point, but I still did, somehow, sometimes.

Not many people knew why I withdrew - depression robbed me of my words. Even answering a simple email was intimidating - all that blank white space and no words to fill them, even to say "I'll meet you at 7:00 on Saturday." I was ashamed of it, quite frankly. When I got my words back, I filled pages and pages. I've lost a lot of my old style; it may or may not come back. What I write feels honest, though, and the words are there; sometimes struggling mightily to come out. I'll take it.

SA, for what it's worth, I think you're approaching this in just the right way. When I look at the people in my life who most love what they do, and are most successful at what they do, the common thread I see in their lives is that they've always just done what they wanted to do, and then found more stuff they wanted to do, while they were doing stuff they wanted to do.

Thanks. That's kind of what I'm hoping for. Also, it's the first thing I've been excited about in eight months--well, longer, really, more like a fifteen months--so I figure I'm probably moving in the right direction.

Not the first to say it, but KATEFATE!! Missed you, hon!

Well... the girlfriend was institutionalized and the marriage broke up but I don't think you can blame that on Kokomo. At least not all of it!

I've been to Kokomo--a lot and I think you can.

I'm having trouble keeping Owen off the kitchen counter today. he just opened up a ziplock bag with the biscuits left over from breakfast. I'll bet it's lunch time.