I skipped and skimmed so hugs for all what needs them.

I have a question for the hivemind: How much trouble can you get in for opening a bank account with an incorrect address? I suspect that my roommate's dad is using our address on a new account since an envelope from a bank and a box that is shaped like checks arrived on the same day addressed to him. Can I get in any trouble for not reporting that he doesn't live here?

...6pm. Hangover gone.

To be fair, it's been gone for several hours now - I pretty much just slept and drank water this morning, and that did the trick. Still, I do find that I'm far less willing/ready/able to cope with the horror of the morning after these days than when I was a wee slip of a student.

Ngah.

So after being very Ascot Lady in the daytime, last night I was a vicar, and then something of a tart (inasmuchas there was shirtlessness). Happily, though, it was within a context in which the stunning tartiness of my various friends utterly overshadowed any modicum of tartiness I might myself be displaying, so that's good. Although I still slightly fear Facebook and the inevitable photographs...

Anyhoo, yes - this afternoon we had our cast party for A Christmas Carol. Since the cast comprises such a range of ages, it was far more sedate and seemly than cast parties usually are. I now have a DVD of our production, and can witness for myself how very, very, very, VERY much I need to cut back on the carbs and get the hell back to the gym.

Gosh. That was depressing.

laga, I don't think the bank thing would be a problem for him or you, unless there's some requirement that he doesn't meet (like the bank requires that he live in a particular city, or he's an illegal immigrant or something.)

Laga, I wonder if he opened an "emergency" account for your roomie. Talk to him first. I think the only conflict would be taxes on interest earned. Unless the father is going thru a divorce or thinking about it and will use the account to hide money, but if its in his name, its likely his SS# is attatched to the account. So I dunno.

ION this being my only day off for the past 7, I was hoping to sleep in. I even turned off all alarms. But no!! Not even 8am & I'm awake. Granted I did pass out before midnight. But still! Not fair I say (like a 5 year old). Plus I had some wicked ass vivid dreams that woke me up during the night. The recurring one was grad school was wanting me to teach a class on set design. And a class on climbing. I'm NOT graphical. AAND I can't climb!!! Ya, brought out a lot of anxiety of "I can't teach this". Did I mention I'm nearly 12 years out of grad school?!?!

Thanks guys I'll stop worrying now.

This is what my darling Kristin just said to Seamus our kitten, "You feet smell like litter box, go sit on Dad."

Gee. Thanks honey.

What? That's a problem?

our goofiest xmas tradition is lox & bagels with mimosas. One year Dad was in Israel over Christmas so we waited to celebrate until he came home. He brought lox & bagels with him and we had them with mimosas for breakfast. The best thing is that you can make yourself a sandwich and get right to the presents.

We were allowed to open one present on xmas eve but it was always our xmas morning outfits- robes & slippers, footie pjs, the year Dad went to Japan we all got kimonos. We stayed up xmas eve watching home movies and in the morning we had to wait for Dad to set up the camera before we were allowed to walk single-file down the hall. We have years of home movie footage that is so very similar. The scene opens on the angel on top of the tree, pans down to a resigned-looking irish wolfhound, then down the hall cue the kids! and you see three or four (depending on how old I am) similarly clad children march oh-so-impatiently towards the tree. Nothing was wrapped, just grouped together according to child.

We were much more focused on Santa than Jesus. My parents never really talked about religion with us aside from telling us it was our decision to make. We ended up as atheists and agnositcs and when my brother discovered that his son was of the idea that christmas was all about baby cheeses he did nothing to disabuse him of that notion.

I also have a good Santa story. One day my brother was playing with the big kids on the big kids playground and they started telling him there's no such thing as Santa. James argued with them but they said if he went home and asked his mother she would tell him the truth. So James went running home and up to Mom crying, "Mom! Is there a Santa Claus?" "Of course there is, sweetie!" Mom replied. So James ran back to big kids playground and announced, "you were wrong!"

I'm the youngest and it dawned on me gradually that Santa wasn't really bringing our toys. As a final test I left a note for Santa on Christmas Eve telling him that I was very sorry but that I forgot to ask for a Barbie Dream House. I knew I had been good so in the morning when the note was gone and there was no Barbie Dream House I felt my theory had been confirmed.

I just asked Jon Voigt to move outta way so I could get to the rest room.

Ha, I was watching him on my television last night (National Treasure).

Annabel on her trike

Dude, I've been in Minearverse too much, I was expecting to see a toddler on a picket line.

Me too.