Turns out a little yoga eases the problem, so yeah. Probably a trapped nerve, and maybe I need a new desk chair. Better a pinched nerve than the world's slowest cardiac event, anyway.

I had bought what I thought was a pork roast, but it was "picnic sliced", so kind of like a bunch of large chops. I took one of them today, cubed it up. I trimmed the fat, then rendered it in a pot. I diced half an onion, a few cloves of garlic, a stalk of celery and half of a carrot, then added them to the rendered fat. I browned the cubed pork, then added about 1/2 a cup of wine and a cup of chicken stock. I threw in a bay leaf, then put it on to simmer for two hours. It made the most lovely ragu. I made papparadelle (if I'm going through the trouble of making a great sauce, it deserves fresh pasta). I added some butter to silken and thicken the sauce, then tossed it with papparadelle and parmesan.

fucking amazing, if I do say so myself.

Holy crap, that does sound amazing.

The bottom part of the corset -- the part that went down in front of the general pants-zipper area -- is ALSO not part of a rope corset; I just had leftover rope and wanted to do something decorative with it.

That's some fine work, there. But I thought those hangy bits were meant to be connected under the groin area.

Actually, the skinny clothesline did loop back to the rope in back, and then back to the front, and THEN I did the weave-y thing.

What I did Friday night: rope corset, front; rope corset, back, rope gauntlet.

I think I saw that on Martha!

She learned it in prison, I hear.

Martha was keepin' it real.

fucking amazing, if I do say so myself.

Oh wow. That does sound like something special. Feel free to pour any leftovers through the interpipes.

This afternoon Matilda and I stopped by P-C's place running errands in the middle of a long, long day that ended with our poor car crammed to the gills with boxes of things for eBay and/or Half Price Books, but the brief stop was like a fun little holiday into a land of awesome toys and graphic novels and craziness (one wall is crooked and the kitchen looks like an abandoned Escher sketch! there's a real honest-to-God attic with a ladder that pulls down from the ceiling, and musty-smelling warm air with dust motes dancing in the light from the single window, and bare roof beams, and mysterious boxes!). She was quite thoroughly charmed and charming.

As, per example:

Me (picking up an Avatar stuffed animal): Look, Matilda, P-C has a Momo! We've never seen one before!

Matilda: Oooh, you know who else has a Momo?

Me: I don't think anyone we know does, honey. That's why this is so special.

Matilda: No, Mommy, no. You know who else has a Momo? Aang!

Then, in the car on the way to Half Price Books, she kept wondering where Uncle Neil had gone, and if he could go for a ride in the car with us once we cleared out the books. But maybe Uncle Neil was tired, or he had to go to work (which is a frequent thing with her; we were reading a Little Golden Book of Bambi, and when the gun went off and Bambi ran wild in the forest calling for his mother, she said sagely, "I think his mommy had to go to work").

Anyhow, the car is now clean and Uncle Neil can ride around in it anytime he wants.

Hey everyone,

This is from a locked post in my LJ. I don't really want to make it public, but I'd really like any ideas/thoughts anyone here might have:

Remember that friend that I met last month/ and had lunch with on Friday? Well, lunch was nice and pretty normal and I was glad I went. I enjoyed talking with her, even though I felt a few small hints were dropped that perhaps I should give them some money. But those hints were vague and could have been nothing.

This afternoon I got a text form her saying that she had been admitted to the hospital for pre-term labor. (Baby isn't due until March 15 or so.) This also happened right after I met her. Anyway, a few hours after the text, her boyfriend calls saying that she was being released but that she'd had a seizure and was somewhat incoherent. He works nights (he tells me) and doesn't want her to stay alone overnight. Well, I said yes because I'm not going to say no to a pregnant woman in her situation. So, I gave him our address and explained that we were on the mountain, the roads are very icy, and she might have to walk half a block or so because of road conditions. Then he tells me they might not come because she has a dr. appointment in the morning and he probably can't make it here and back to the dr in time.

So, basically I gave our address to people I don't trust and was trying to keep my distance from to begin with. I'm not sorry I said she could stay or gave him our address. I'm not going to say no to people in need, even if it makes me a dupe. But now I'm a bit uneasy. I'm not really worried - we have dogs, and guns, in the house and Joe is very capable of taking care of us. As am I, but I have a lot of faith in Joe when it comes to physical protection.

Still, what is a bit eery to me is how this played out exactly that I suspected weeks ago. I have tried to keep a polite distance and yet suddenly, they have our address and she might be spending the night. Honestly, I don't think they are thieves or murderers. I think they are people in a rough situation and they might be just a bit off, or odd, or something. But I don't really think they are harmful. Still, I'm not happy about the situation and I'm just a teeny bit worried about leaving the house empty tomorrow. Or being here alone.

Basically, am I a terrible evil person or am I gullible and stupid?

Basically, am I a terrible evil person or am I gullible and stupid?

Neither. But there were enough red flags that I wouldn't have extended an open invite. There's some place in between that would've worked better for you, I think.

Like, "I'm willing to help but not take on the brunt of the responsibility."

Because, frankly, these people read as if they'll exploit the situation. Not that they're necessarily malign or evil, but they've got that manipulativeness thing that I associate with addicts and certain other personality disorders. (People who take take take!)

eta: Basically they sound like a lot of people in Cash's extended family. She could give better advice at how to deal with the chronically You Owe Me Every Break (or, Save Me From Our Poor Choices) people

Wow. That's a toughie, Stephanie.