FWIW, sanitary napkins were invented by WWI nurses who adapted it from the bandages they used -- and tampons were reinvented with the same material. So using them as bandages means they've come full circle.

Announcement: I just got assigned a non-rush research project that involves a scientific term I've never heard of and it's making me gleeful.

Analysis: I am a ginourmous geek, AIFG.

Speaking of tampons, when we babysat a ferret for the summer, he'd steal wrapped tampax out of our bags, peel off the wrapper, hit it in the bedside drawer, and tuck the tampax in the boxspring with all his other treasure (including wrapped cough drops and orange peels.) We didn't discover this until we upended the mattress when we moved out. He was a trip. He also liked to bathe in the toilet. Except he couldn't get out. He got peed on once. We had to put toilet locks on it.

OBs are popular cat toys around here.

FWIW, sanitary napkins were invented by WWI nurses who adapted it from the bandages they used -- and tampons were reinvented with the same material. So using them as bandages means they've come full circle.

That's so cool.

Hee!!

That reminds me of the story one of my managers at the bookstore told me. Several years ago, she and her hubby took in a feral mamacat and her litter, and since they only had a loft apartment, they had no choice but to put them into their only bathroom, since ferals don't do well in open indoor spaces. Whenever they had to go to the bathroom, they would slip through the barely-opened door, talking very softly all the while to let them know it was just them coming in, nothing to be scared of.

Well, one of the kittens took a fascination in her husband's urine stream while he was going early one morning. From their bedroom upstairs, she heard, "What the...NO, DON'T DO THAT!! OOOOWWW!!!!", then the shower was turned on briefly, soon followed by a wet, naked hubby, carrying a wrapped-up-in-a-towel wet hissing kitten. She had leaped for the yellow stream, missed, clawed him on his, well you can guess where, as she then tumbled into the toilet. He had to rescue her, stick her under the shower while trying to clean her off, and then brought her up for Leslie to tend while he took care of himself.

I've heard variations on that scenario so frequently, it makes me glad to be a sit & peeer.

I love my brother because a mere mention that one of my friends has MS sends him off (after he made me list the meds she's on) on a week long fishing expedition into the studies when he's got plenty of other work and his wife is out of town, so he's got 2 kids vs one adult.

I know research gives him energy, but it was above an beyond. And he can translate into english.

I've been way behind but I skipped into the middle of Kat's book list and wanted to throw in my theatre-centric 2¢.

It also occurs to me I have no African-American writers.

Pearl Cleage

Tom Stoppard is one of my faves. Indian Ink could easily be included in the Romances.

For American comedy Sarah Ruhl is interesting. I wonder if Dead Man's Cell Phone is in print yet.

ION I had to reassure my mother that I was not on the Red Line in Chinatown today.

ION I had to reassure my mother that I was not on the Red Line in Chinatown today.

I was at that stop just the other day for a concert, and I never take the Red Line that far south. And I can't quite figure out the geometry of how that even happened.

I saw one really high angle photo (probably from a helicopter) that looked more plausible than I could figure out otherwise. I don't quite get how the truck made it between the support pillars though.