Emeline has decided she does not like pants. She screamed and whined for a half hour this morning about her severe dislike of pants.

Apparently Aunt Jilli has corrupted her....

Gods, it's been a bit, let me see...

Cost Basis is the amount of money on which taxes have already been paid. With stocks it would most likely be the price of the stocks when they were purchased. You would be taxed on the difference if they're worth more.

For example: On Day X when Relative purchased the stocks, he paid $1000.00 for them. He paid for it out of his own pocket, presumably with money from a paycheck on which he had already paid taxes.

On Day Y when they get cashed in (either by Relative or by Heir) they are worth $3000.00. Relative (or Heir) will owe taxes on $2000.00 worth of assets.

The rule is more or less this: The IRS *will* get their bite, but they only get to bite once.

Susan! Crumbs, that would be fabulous. Fingers crossed!

Meara, I'm wishing you Less Irritating But Equally Hot Womenfolk right now and they're fucking great. (And great at fucking.)

Emeline has decided she does not like pants. She screamed and whined for a half hour this morning about her severe dislike of pants.

It's been a long day, so initially I failed to translate this in my head into US-speak, and was nodding in an unsurprised way about Em going commando as I recalled the Empress impressively whisking off her knickers in front of me (whilst wearing PJs, iirc).

But that's NOT what you meant. Okay. Carry on.

So, 2nd day of parent conferences and so far, so good. There are a few stragglers I need to mop up, but mostly we're done. Yay! And one of them brought me a random bottle of wine! Jacob's Creek Cabernet Sauvignon - ie wine I would totally drink! (...were I not following Atkins). Yay for that!

the Empress impressively whisking off her knickers in front of me

Bwah!!

Oh, the pants battles. I'm sorry, Aimee; apparently Matilda has been secretly precocious and has stolen my phone to call Em and coach her behind both our backs. Nine times out of ten over the past month or so, she screams during the getting-dressed process as if her pants (er, trousers?) were lined with fire ants and sandpaper.

Unemployment: Day 3. Plans for the day include bagel-eating, a thorough rewatch of the Wire finale, sucking it up and calling my dad, emailing my beloved ex-boss with a list of other university positions I'm applying for so he can visit the people involved and use his emeritus status as a very superior pimp, going to a very-likely-to-be-fruitless-but-shouldn't-pass-it-up-anyway interview downtown, dinner at Deb's for mutual "People who fire people SUCK ASS AND SHOULD BE BURNINATED" pissing and moaning and incidental food and bellini consumption.

It's really a very busy day. I sure am glad I don't have a goddamn job to go to; it'd really put a crimp in my schedule.

I love JZ's plan for the day!

My day includes going to the dentist in a bit and complaining about how tired I am and how my throat is all raspy.

JZ's day is way better than mine, plan-wise.

But someone could always send me a pony, I guess.

My plan for today involved working through this *terrific* headache I've got for no apparent reason.

Mine includes explaining the different kinds of steel, learning about crystalline structures, and figuring out how to cut open the stomach.

JZ, sounds like a good plan for the day. Good luck!

So...it's been an interesting morning around here. Apparently, the electricity went off at some point during the night, so I blissfully slept until 10:18 a.m., when I rolled over, saw how light it was, and checked the time--blinking 8:41 a.m. SHIT! Run to cell phone to see what actual time it is. Shit! 10:18 a.m. Exam started 18 minutes ago! PANIC! Start calling people in the WoSt department to see what I should do. No one is answering their phones (my prof is out dealing with a family emergency). Decide to take a deep breath and walk Toto on a quick walk. Run into a very nice group of Jehovah's Witnesses. Tell them all about my morning, say, "Lovely to meet you all, but I must get in the shower," run into my apartment, and ignore the doorbell. Let Toto calm down, then try calling the department one last time. Get transferred to the prof who proctored the exam. It's someone I know! Yay! Leave her a voice mail and an e-mail. She calls back within five minutes and says everything will be fine. I can take exam tomorrow when I am on campus. She told me to have a nice calming cup of tea and try to have a better day.