'Heart Of Gold'
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, nail polish, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
I still chuckle at the idea of the reactions you'd get. Hey, you got my itinerary, right?
I'm getting nutty about the shirt. It HAS to be in my bedding. Otherwise, I have to imagine a burglar who stole one 10 year old shirt. And I don't think I washed it with my bedding last. It's nuts. The only outside place it could be lost is the Y, and I think I'd notice if I left shirtless.
We have missed an opportunity this year to have her go as Darth Vader. It would have been perfect.
hah!
Where is my family, folks? I'm sure the kids have eaten, but I haven't, and Cody hasn't, and I'm hungry.
Sara, I once found a shirt that had fallen under the couch cushions and into the crack of the chair over a year after I lost it.
My clothes only come off upstairs and there ain't much furniture up there! Sorry, I am a little crazed.
I did, sara! We are so excited!
I'm going down with some teammates though and we're only staying Saturday.
Aww. I'm gone that weekend.
Just wanted to make sure I hadn't typo'd something. Been doing that a lot lately.
trunk and treat
What is that?
My mom took my sister and I out to dinner. Got more exposure to how entitled my has-never-moved-away-or-paid-her-own-bills sister is so I had to bite my tongue. But it was nice spending time with my mom. And good to get some fried chicken that didn't come from a fast food place (I made myself eat some greens to sorta compensate).
I showed my mom several gorgeous color pics from Rosalind Creasy's Edible Landscaping book so she can see that edible gardening does NOT have to be ugly. She agrees that those pictures, at least, were not of ugly gardens.
Forced myself to be productive and now I'll take a bath and go to bed early and then I'll make myself get up at 6:30 am again tomorrow. New schedule, dammit.
Really interesting article on the evolution of the hipster: [link] It's pretty thoughtful on how the culture came about. But man, this passage is such a burn:
One could say, exaggerating only slightly, that the hipster moment did not produce artists, but tattoo artists, who gained an entire generation’s arms, sternums, napes, ankles, and lower backs as their canvas. It did not produce photographers, but snapshot and party photographers: Last Night’s Party, Terry Richardson, the Cobra Snake. It did not produce painters, but graphic designers. It did not yield a great literature, but it made good use of fonts. And hipsterism did not make an avant-garde; it made communities of early adopters.
