You know the annoying co-worker that I was glad had given notice? Well, she just told me she got into the program that I'm in at school for next year. Yay.

Ugh. That deserves a face palm if anything ever did.

Man, juliana's going to have fun with you.

Oh I'm a total trip pushover.

I'm full of lies and Ginger has facts.

Man, juliana's going to have fun with you.

Mine is an evil laugh....

Related to the chicken discussion - am I correct in thinking that it's legal to own up to 3 chickens in SF if you have a yard?

I have a several cookbooks from the 40s/50s and there are recipes for "City Chicken" where chunks of meat are cut in different sizes, skewered and rolled in crumbs to look like a chicken leg and then fried.

Hello! (((Sean and S))). So sorry that she has to deal with people who don't understand that BROTH is MEAT! Seriously.

And Steph, a pox on the Asshead President.

Everyone's hair looks wonderful, btw!

And... Night of the Lepus is one of my all time favorite movies. I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Super-whiney first-world mommy sniveling ahead:

Ah, fuck. I mean, not exactly fuck, but...fuck. Matilda's been hitting a growth spurt and has gone back up to nursing every 2 1/2 to 3 hours for the past couple of days; I'm having no trouble keeping up when I'm feeding her in person, but my mom just reported that she's wolfed down two separate 5 oz. feeds so far today and would probably have taken 6.

Which is fine for the actual nursing, but there's no way I can pump that much; I'm barely squeezing out 3 oz. per pumping session, and I just absolutely utterly can't do three 6-oz. sessions, or even one. I've never pumped more than 4 oz. at a time, and not even that much for almost two weeks.

Bleah. I'm fine with supplementing and/or weaning in theory, and the rational part of my brain knows that lots of babies don't even get five months of pure breast, but the irrational part feels shitty that my stupid breasts can't supply enough to make it to six.

Not even asking for hairpats or anything, really. Just venting and kicking the furniture and shaking shaky fists at my milk ducts.

but the irrational part feels shitty that my stupid breasts can't supply enough to make it to six.

If it makes you feel any better, I think that your breasts are great.

Well, sure, they're decorative, but I was getting very attached to them in their new incarnation. They had a lovely sort of late 19th century Arts and Crafts aesthetic -- visually pleasing and beautiful and functional. Now they're just some crazy-ass rococo froufrou.

shaking shaky fists at my milk ducts

not to take away from your rant, but this visual makes me laugh.

2 things. 1) Mr. Jane just called. The funeral will be on Thurs. so he won't be back until Friday this means not only will he be gone for nearly a week, but we won't have that income from Sunday, Monday, Tuesday or Friday. They do need him though. He's doing chores and stuff around the house. He's going to call again tonight.

2) The goddess Yesca? The one Virginia's dad tried to sacrifice her to in Guise will be Guise. My coworker just informed me that yesca is Spanish slang for marijuana.

Related to the chicken discussion - am I correct in thinking that it's legal to own up to 3 chickens in SF if you have a yard?

I think so, but my "knowledge" is based on that movie about chickens in SF. I'm pretty sure you can't have roosters inside the city limits. I know that's the case in Portland.

Dunno, but most of the population was still in the countryside during WWII.

Nah, urban population surpassed rural sometime before 1920. [link]