"but her husband is perfectly normal"

Gee, I noticed that too. Then again I think you are both normal, so it could just be me.

sj, I hope you are taking lots of transformation pictures of your new home. Remember that you have lots of handy people here that love to give advice.

Laura, I should take more. I took one of TCG taking down wallpaper yesterday, but mostly because he just looked adorable. Also, the world would be a much better place if more people were like you.

I need to get moving soon because I am supposed to be meeting my father-in-law at the house. I'm tired and don't want to move.

The one time I asked, I found out the woman's ex-husband beat her so badly, she was paralyzed.Not exactly the getting-to-know-you-through-shared-adversity gambit I was searching for. I never ask now. Because if it's awful like that, what do you say? "Sucks to be you?" "What must the other guy look like?" Sometimes I wonder what knowing that about me tells people. But then, sometimes I think I imagine a big, goofy, relieved exhale when I say "Something happened when I was born," or "cerebral palsy,"(depending on the audience) and then that kind of pisses me off, but then I'm a suspicious freak with no magic in my heart or cripple wisdom. Right now, the hardest thing for me is people's babies. You know, the best wishes thing. Because, on one hand, the culture has shifted enough, in theory(We have laws, ramps, and Murderball, right?) that I'm often expected to act as if that thing that happened at my birth is, like, no big deal. Left-handedness, with equipment. But we all know that it is a, to use Biden's phrase, big f---n' deal, and that when I'm wishing good fortune to somebody's baby, what I'm really saying is that I hope they don't turn out like me. Which is not good for how I feel about my life, but I'm not going to be like my more militant friends and hijack well-wishing for a lecture about diversity, and I have to admit, it hasn't been easy. Or "Murderball" glamourous. But I don't think it's quite as horrible as people imagine, either.

I continue my campaign of getting in people's faces when they jovially say to Hubby, "Dude, you shouldn't let your wife hit you so hard!" when he's obviously impaired. Dear Hubby, he tends to smile proudly when I go all she-wolf on these people.

I would like to eat All The Chocolate today, please. Augmented judiciously with caramel and peanut butter (but not *combined* caramel and peanut butter).

I think a trip to the store to refill the Editorial Dept.'s trough o' chocolate is in order.

The Editorial Department's trough o' chocolate is refilled! There was audible rejoicing.

Mmmm, chocolate. I think I'm going to have to make chocolate chip cookies from scratch very soon. Except I don't have a mixer any more. Shit. Hmm.

I just had an interview for a job very similar to my next-to-last job. I didn't ask for ~ma because I'm not sure I want it if it's offered to me. It's another non-profit with uncertain funding, it's hourly and less than I made at the others, and no health insurance until maybe July. If the job lasts that long.

Wow, I sound really enthusiastic, huh? Also, they have an internal candidate, so I don't know how good my chances are anyway.

But hey - always good to practice interviewing, and not a bad thing to get to know this ED better in case she hears of something else.

Off to have a mini-potluck with a neighbor. And she's lending me her extra bike indefinitely! Woo hoo! So that's good. And I was very productive today, so yay me.

In a spirit of optimism, I give you Curtis Mayfield - [link]

Excellent Song!

I really fucking hate this goddamned roller coaster. I'm bawling because I just watched a fictional character on TV give birth, and I am so very angry because that will not be me. I won't have that, and it's not fair. It's all not fair, and I just want it to stop.

I thought I had made peace with the idea. Guess not.

{{{{{Maria}}}}} I'm sorry.