I've managed to never get lice, and my sister got them at least twice. We never worked out how, since she's not supposed to be able to get the same lice as the other kids in her class, as far as we were informed. Maybe she has had secret white people hair this whole time...

I am putting off sending an email to the CIO, even though we've been exchanging them all morning.

Okay, now I'm smart-assing with a different friend on FB, which makes me feel much better. (Friend #1 said that wearing Spanx is bullshit and keeps women down. So I said we *have* to wear them or our reproductive organs will just fall right out. Friend #2 said that no, Spanx holds our uterus in place so it doesn't wander around the abdominal cavity.)

what is your protection against crazies, though?

Since a pickup truck only has two seats, it's considered fully occupied with two people in it and can use the carpool lane. But lots of women won't choose to get into a pickup alone, so they'll pass on that and let the next person down the line take that.

Also, there's a commuter board where they warn about drivers they don't like. (Specifying by car and license plate.)

But generally, it's been going on for 30 years with no crimes reported. Just occasional bouts of "that driver was too aggressive and/or chatty."

Everybody I've picked up so far has been perfectly polite. They're veteran commuters. They know the drill.

Because the sandy soil in SF is a perfect breeding ground for lice and fleas it's impossible to get through school here without your kid getting it at least once.

Emmett and Matilda have both had it twice.

I had the worst time with fleas in my place in sf.

Spanx hold your uturus in place so the gov't can find it easily to be able to get all up in there!

I am not sure why some people are so sure Spanx are the Tool of The Man. Some things, apparently, can never be women's choices, never ever. And the category of compressing your torso falls into this danger danger Wilhemina Robinson zone.

Yeah, I don't think Spanx are the Tool of the Man, but I needed to snark. Hence the comment about holding in the internal bits. (And what do I know? They might fall out. THEY MIGHT.)

I think there's societal pressure to look the way Spanx makes a body look, but that pressure comes from women as well as men. So: bad society! No cookie.

In the Mission, you see the men's clothing stores with the spanx-like undershirts advertised in the windows to tuck that magnificent gut up into a barrel chest.

Wow. Twenty-five year old cold case solved by DNA testing. It was the butler! No, actually, it was a cop in a lover's triangle.

It was Lazarus' own colleagues in the LAPD who resurrected the cold case killing and connected her with a combination of scientific evidence and old fashioned police work. Once they learned that the DNA was from a woman, they eliminated all other possible female suspects and began following Lazarus surreptitiously to collect her DNA.

On a shopping trip, they saw her discard a cup from which she had been drinking. They collected it and the DNA comparison convinced them. They had only to cross the hall and confront her. After a lengthy interview in which she denied guilt, they arrested her and took another DNA sample.

Her sterling police career and her life as she knew it were over.

Dude. And her name was Lazarus. How anvilicious.

One of my early lessons in class or something: Lice went around like crazy in the academic-class circles I traveled in as a kid, and almost not at all in the more working-class ones. So who knows what's up with lice? NOT ME, MAN.

Now I have to scratch my head.