60 pages! That was my goal for Friday, and I just got there! Which means that I wrote five pages in two and a half days, with one day spent not doing much, which means that my goal of ten pages a week is totally workable.

That's awesome, Hil. Now you can goof off for a couple days.

My BMI accurately says I am obese. I am not healthy or happy at my current weight. I am doing well with my diet and exercise plan to change this in a healthy fashion. It is an accurate enough measure for my tiny frame, not so much for DH. He is also obese, but absolutely in great shape at about 275 which the BMI would never recognize. Short story, BMI should be banned, or at least shunned.

I went to the doctor today. THEIR SCALE IS EVIL. It told me I weight a full five pounds more than my scale at home (which is also being evil today and telling me I weigh more than EVER. EVIL!!!!!!!!!!)

Sigh. Perhaps I can convince myself to pack the exercise clothes tonight?

Sephora/Urban Decay fans. WANTZ! [link]

Because I really haven't had anyone to say this to. The funeral yesterday was AWFUL! My friend had told me his ex-wife was crazy, but I thought it was just an expression ex-husbands use. Woman is seriously CRAXY!

1) She officiated. She says she's a Shaman. She wore a graduation robe which she then took off to reveal a shiny shiny shirt/jacket thing. You know that material that is slightly rubbery/spandex feeling and is sort of rainbow and reflective all at the same time? It was that.

2) They had apparently agreed on what was to be said, but once she got up there, she threw away the page and deemed it "inappropriate" and then kept calling him by the name his druggie friends used "Tweak."

3) There was a creeptastic animated thing (like when you use a photo of yourself to do that elf dancing thing) with HER DEAD SON'S Face dancing to some techno music and then eventually becoming an angel and flying away.

4) His friends all told stories about partying with him all the time and how he liked to be extreme which is basically how he died, right in front of the family.

5) They did a balloon release and because they didn't think about the location, the balloons all went into the power lines.

6) Crazy mom went off to do drugs with her dead kid's friends.

The only good was hanging with our friends after at Mr. Jane's bar.

Dude. DUDE!

Sephora/Urban Decay fans. WANTZ! [link]

Me wantz too.

DJ, that is beyond awful. That is execrable.

DJ, dude. That's pretty much all I got. Dude.

Good grief, DJ. Words fail.

That sounds appalling, DJ.

I hate to criticize anyone for how they memorialize their son, but the animated thing nearly made me run screaming from the room. My friend thought it was going to be an actual slide show. (She actually did do that at the reception type thing).

{{DJ and less crazy/drugged family of the kid}}

And, ION: real talk that happened today.

Dear Friend: Oh, and I also duplicated 50% of my DNA. Well, less than 50%, because of the mitochondria. And it has a pulse!
Me (bearing in mind this guy is very into science, and for all I know, might work on cloning himself, so quite shocked): WHY?
DF, mumbling: moral debt to the society...?
Me: Uh. Whatever. But... how? And where? Which lab let you... And how do you...
(DF looks confuse, trying to answer delicately the "how" and "where" questions)
Me: Oh wait! Mitochondria, duh! Dude, congratulations!

Moral of the story: we live in an age where cloning oneself is not so much sci-fi anymore. When you're coming out pregnant, mind the details.