"Ohhh, so they don't see us with no Santa suits on."

Now someone gets to find her sneaking into their room with presents and no clothes on.

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Jilli! Congrats! My blind date last night is all into steampunk, and I was like "you must meet my friend Jilli!"

Also, I want to meet your apocalypse skill set friend. I love her idea. And have often thought of it myself. But then I figured in reality, I would probably get killed shortly after the apocalypse, after I lost my glasses and was blind. Or failed to believe in the apocalypse being an actual apocalypse until it was too late.

I think post-apocalypse, Teppy and I will be the pharmacists, if there are no actual pharmacists around. And with chemistry textbooks and supplies looted from places, I could make a lot of chemicals?

I've got living off the land pretty much covered. I know what plants to forage for, the best ways to plant and process crops, how to skin and tan hides, brew beer, and how to store foods over winter. This is all assuming that we have no technology or power, of course, because once that comes along I'm pretty useless. Go prehistoric skills!

Sweet, I wanna be near Jars when the apocalypse comes!

I am unsure of what size to ask after because how they to order it is not how you experienced corset buyers say you should buy them.

Aimee, their ordering instructions make no sense, but also, that is a soft-boned corset, so it's not going to suck it in like the steel boning. So you wouldn't order hte same, anyway.

"an evening of entertainment and inspiration...to celebrate the achievements of the Feminist Majority Foundation and Ms. magazine"? I'm thinking dressy (it's an evening event in an LA theatre), but I'm not sure exactly how dressy. Any ideas?

Technically, I believe one wears one of those often strange flowy pantsuit things. I mean, Ms. and the Feminist Majority? Do you REALLY want to wear a skirt to that? :)

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For a coming apocalypse we'd need a bunker not unlike the one Tom Cruise was rumored to be building about a month ago.

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Jilli! Awesome news! I was just thinking that really, you ought to be in kids' books - something somewhere between The Magic Schoolbus and Petshop of Horrors. (I'd be tempted to write them myself, in fact, were it not for the fact that you probably don't want to appear to be cosplaying yourself.)

Emmett found out there was no Santa Claus tonight. There were tears. And more tears.

Oh noes!!!

Poor kid! God!

...although I do think the whole Santa Conspiracy is an important life lesson for kids. Yes, impossible though it seems, all the adults in the Western World are conspiring together to lie to you, and going to great and elaborate lengths. Authority Figures: Often Not To Be Trusted!

But, aw. Poor little guy.

Mind you, I have fond memories of the first Christmas where I was In On The Secret, and got to feel very grown up going through the motions for the benefit of my little sister. And after she'd gone to bed, Mum and Dad got a glass of sherry and a home-made mince pie or truffle or something, and a carrot, and I got to join in the ritual sipping and biting thing, to leave Evidence Of Santa. (I can't even remember whether we usually left out said things - I think Mum and Dad may just have said "yes, yes, we left out a mince pie for him, of course we did" when I was wee. But I vividly remember THAT occasion. It was very special and rites of passage-ish.)

Meanwhile, have just been reduced to tears (God, I cry so easily) by Cindy (of Blinvisible Sandwich Fame). Because she was weeping so heartbrokenly - and, you know, it was about something stupid - one of the other wee girls had told another wee girl that Cindy did something mean. And Cindy, with both other girls now departed, was in the loos weeping her heart out and denying it. She just takes things SO to heart - and although on the one hand I'm all - jings, get over it, kid! OtherKid will have forgotten all about it by now, and you're letting her remark wreck your day while she's off being happy somewhere. But on the other hand - you know, she's six, and it DOES feel huge to her. Poor mite.

I'm really quite Personal Bubble-ish, and don't tend to be very huggy/tactile with the kids (because in the UK you're not allowed to touch your students, point blank. Cuddling them is just opening yourself up to a whole lot of potential for law suits), but on this occasion I had to get down and give her a hug. Which just killed me. Poor little bugger. Gah. Cheer up, kid! It's the weekend! You're going home!

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omg I just caught up on 160+ posts. And trying to pull a Meara on the iPod, yikes not easy. Can I just say please look at bigD's post about 10 upthread.

And I'm rather surprised none of the mr potato head strings made it to COMM. I was dying over here.

Bonny, thanks for the remedy. Funny I've done similiar with plain old vitamin c tablets. I'll send that doc tomorrow (hopefully)

Ok time to turn in. Tomorrow I scout out location fun for next years Orange County Fair. Woot.

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'morning, Bitches. I'm spending my day packing my house . . . just me alone with the boxes and all our crap. I already feel sorry for my DH when he gets home tonight because of the mood I'll be in.

JZ, what everyone else has already said. Your time in the public employees' retirement fund and a significantly higher salary are solid reasons for telling the architects that you cannot sign on the dotted line. It's a language we all speak.

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'morning! I've been here since 7am, because [nonprofit] wanted to send a news post out. They'd wanted to do it yesterday evening too. So I was working then. Which was fine, except that they couldn't decide whether they really wanted to send it out. So they didn't. Guess what I'm not doing so far this morning either?

Grumble.

Related: I have really beautiful antique roses on my desk from DH via the Superfresh (which, because I grew up in PA, I can't help calling the smACME) And coffee. A lot of coffee.

and someone just called me irascible.

I am pleased.

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I've been madly working on a presentation all morning. I was supposed to be giving it at one o'clock, and only started it at nine this morning. But! The data projector has gone missing, so it's postponed until Monday! Yay! Saved by incompetence, once again.

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sniff

Poor Emmett. I would say that's a hard one to learn, but I don't remember how (if) I ever found out Santa wasn't "real". Then again, I live in a perpetual state of denial, so maybe I'm still blocking it.

Example?

I refuse to believe that Emeline is THREE YEARS OLD TODAY!!

Three years ago RIGHT NOW, I was dialated 9 cm, 80% effaced, in the middle of active labor with my pitocin, epidural, and demerol.

I was also fast asleep and felt none of it.

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(which, because I grew up in PA, I can't help calling the smACME)

Bwahaha!

Happy Birthday, Emeline! And Happy Not In Labor anymore Day to Aimee!

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