two velvet camisoles and black silk pants from Coldwater Creek.

I got my cool red beaded shirt, red sweater, and denim skirt Monday. Denim skirt is too big and has to go back, alas. I've been searching for my ideal denim skirt for ~6 months, to no avail.

The shirt and sweater are rocking, though.

Cool.

I have a denim skirt which fits perfectly everywhere except the waist, which needs to be taken in, and the silk pants are a couple of inches too long. So, I need to get myself to a tailor soon. I'm sure there are more things lingering in my closet waiting to be altered.

I just heard a reverend on Oprah say that being gay is a gift from God.

Oprah was impressed too. I liked how they expanded on the thought as well. Although the middle lady didn't contribute to that discussion.

I'm making soup and it smells awesome. DH is low carbing and I want him to have something other that just meat. Soup has chicken, spinach, cauliflower, spices and some soy sauce. Yum.

The cat Harvey continually amazes me. At ten and a half years old, he gets up on an eight-inch wide ledge, five feet from the ground, and chases his tail. Not quite as swiftly as he does it while on the floor, but still....

Erin, I feel your pain, although you have it far worse than me. The day before yesterday, I passed out right after dinner, but then woke to go to bed, and then couldn't sleep all night, so I had about 3 hours sleep, most of which was the late evening. So yesterday I was draggin butt all day, I figured I'd pass out in the chair again. Nope. Wired all night. Finally passed out at about 4am. My problem is just getting to sleep. Once asleep, it's great, except for when I have to wake to go to work.

Speaking of waking. I'm kind of jealous of all these wake up calls. I had an alarm clock. First a "Big Ben" with a hideous bell. And then later various flip or digital alarm clocks with hideous buzzers. But no mom singing me awake or opening blinds or anything. Not that I'd want my mom singing.. yikes, she can make the deaf cry with her off key singing.

But still. I do recall one summer at sleepaway camp, where the counselor woke folks in various methods. Since I was the worst at getting up, he tried to pull some nasty ways of getting me out of bed. One morning he lifted the foot of the bed to about a 30º angle and then dropped it. Most jarring. Then screamed some nonsense of get your butt in gear or something. I got up, got dressed and was waiting a good 20 minutes for everyone else in the cabin to get ready. I gave him the stink eye and let him know I'm faster then everyone else at getting ready, and if he pulls that shit again he would have to remember I prowl the night when he sleeps. He never did that again.

I think my favorite ever was the morning my girlfriend at the time got up, snuggled me for a minute, and told me to go back to sleep. She took her dog out for a walk...and came back with a breakfast sandwich and a mocha for me, and then more snuggles. Sigh...I hate mornings.

I also hate that I am getting sick. I woke up this morning with a migraine, but after taking my meds, I realized the reason I felt like I"d been run over by a truck was because I was sniffly and sneezy and oh, right, getting a cold. BOO.

Aw, meara, get better soon.

Here's hoping the insomnia fairy falls asleep, and completely misses her rounds tonight.

"Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning?"

My mom used to sing this to my dad, along with taking in a wet washcloth and plopping it on his face. She was a little more gentle with me, it was "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine!"

I hope the insomnia fairy passes everyone by tonight. I resorted to half an Ambien last night myself. I'm willing to go one or two sleepless nights, but any more than that and it affects my mood too much. Better living through chemistry!

mandated remedial reading class that I could not get out of

!!!

What's the bloody point of that? Insane! Surely REMEDIAL implies that it's for the people who aren't achieving the expected level? Rather than standard?

!!!

Meanwhile, can the Minister for Kill The Stupid People please smite the guy who lives in my building whom I've now met for the second time, in that share-the-elevator-and-walk-in-the-same-direction-and-make-polite-conversation kind of way? Because I cannot cope with any more of his xenophobic bullshit. Seriously. Go home to North America, whitey. Do not stay here in Thailand and slag off the entire population of the country, and go off on one about how they are all profoundly immoral to the core, and how they are all liars, and untrustworthy, and how you hate the kids in your class. Really. Just fuck off back home, if you're so unhappy here.

And then he adds that his wife is Thai, and that she's a liar too, and that she lies to his face - although at least she's not as bad as most Thais. And I'm just standing there like a goldfish. Because, really? This geeky looking, pasty, skinny white boy is HERE IN THAILAND, marrying a Thai girl, because he knows that just by being a farang he can pull girls who would never give him a second glance at home - girls who wouldn't touch him with a bargepole, if they had economic parity with him. That is why he is here. And yet he has the gall to spew all this bullshit about the culture he's taking advantage of?

I don't think so.