(okay, here's the thing. I first wrote "giant-ass meara" and then realized how that sounded. Followed with "large meara," "long-assed meara," and finally conceded that there's no adjective I can use on the term without somehow indirectly, unintentionally, and incorrectly applying it to the person the term was coined after. So.) meara-ing:
Comfy sox. Er, wishing comfort to sox.
I want to just quote Laura's whole post here. And then give her enormous hugs for being silly and wonderful.
Oh, let us not even discuss gaining weight on a 1200 calorie diet. Done it, documented it, and invited the doctor to follow me around to prove it. Where're my magic nutrient pills, again? Food, such a trial.
OMG, I hid under the bed when the high school reunion people came calling. DNW, ever, under any circumstances. High school IS hell, and I want no reminders. College? Enh. I've moved on. Yes, I keep in touch with a couple of people and keep tabs on classmates that actually worked in the business. But it's a mild interest at best. Why would I want to "reconnect"? I guess it's good H and I wound up together, as he has declined personal reunions with his college roommate and a close college friend--"We're not the same people, and why now?"--and his Battalion reunion. I'd have been up for that one, but he would not be moved even to take the phone calls. Nostalgia is better for being wrapped in rosy mists, I think.
Happy Birthday, Cass! Man, my forties were fabulous. I'd like those forties back again, please. I fell apart at 29, but 30 was easy--early thirties were pretty good, but 33-39 were a hell I'd never want to relive. Forties? Man, the brakes were off and I was lovin' life. H hit a good period then too, and it was a long halcyon period for the marriage. Nice. Fear not the forties!
Vortex, I can smack'em for you if you don't want to bother. Fidiots.
I can raise my left eyebrow, does one count? Can't do the other. Can wink either eye, though. I always wanted to be able to cross one eye at a time, like Nanette Fabray.
Impolite people asking intrusive questions: I usually hope I know them well enough to deflect their question by asking them something hideously embarrassing instead. In a politely interested tone, of course. With one raised eyebrow. I never claimed to be a nice person.
My heirs and assigns have been expressly forbidden to care for me directly in my dotage. Been on the other side of that equation and wouldn't wish it on my dearest.
Yay, Trudy feet! And also yay! cable resolution for smonster!