Or is she using high femme to mean higher maintenance with an excuse?

Oh Kat. I am usually horrible about remembering my dreams but occasionally a thought or a picture lingers when I wake up. Today it was Grace, very forcefully, telling me that we needed to sell CJ's toes for celery.

This is hilarious!

Two nights ago, I dreamt the end of Downtown Abbey. It included a massacre where all inhabitants died because of some monster. Seriously. Then when I woke, I remembered that the current policy zero population growth and I had to think to remember who had died and who had been born. Then I began to speculate that perhaps they were going to set up Mary and Tom which seems improbable. But still possible. Also was Mary's baby a boy?

I think on GP, I would choose a doctor with gauges in his/her ear.

No way. Nose piercings on a doc? No problem. But gauges, like Ed Hardy clothes, are a good douchebag indicator. Perhaps because of the student population I work with.

(laughing out loud)

Kat, you probably aren't wrong. But I would be so startled that a medical doctor would have dramatic piercings that I would need to investigate.

my brother swears that even very sedate facial piercings are off-limits in a medical (patient-care) context for doctors

I can see that, most times. I have one doctor relative with her nose pierced, but she's in the sort of role where people go to their dermatologist to have rogue tampons removed, so it's all about devotion and not conventional selection processes.

Tj's has just informed me that the Ezekiel people make a low glycemic raisin cinnamon bread, so my snacking needs may be ALL covered. I was enjoying the whole wheat raisin cinnamon bread from Sprouts, but this is live to boot.

And, good lord, my elevenses nectarine could not have been more ambrosic. Nngnargh. For the first time I waved off a guy holding a door for me because I wanted to stand still and finish my snack.

I got dinged in the elevator for not taking advantage of the relaxed dress code--cited as "the girl wearing boots"--I showed them they were Mary Janes, which they were willing to describe as Docs, but whatEVs. Standards, people, standards.

I do continually comment to the other J'can woman that she's always impeccably dressed--even jeans are part of an outfit for her, but she swears sometimes she even wears baseball caps. If she saw people ribbing me for what I'm wearing she'd laugh harder.

JFC, my father didn't make it to his day program today, because my grandmother didn't make sure he got in the cab. He was home safe and they hung out, but fuck. I don't think either one of them should be home alone at this point. My grandmother's too dizzy to do her PT exercises, but still thinks she might walk to the store. Yeah, no.

Timesheet submitted. No work until Monday. Even turning off my work e-mail on my cell phone (actually just did that so I didn't forget).

We don't have any real plans for tomorrow, but we are going up to a friend's cabin in Wyoming for the weekend. And my foot is feeling better so I might be able to go hike even!

That sounds excellent, Suzi. And it reminds me to reserve a forest service cabin. I desperately want to reserve one of the fire towers, but it seems like a disaster to do with Grace.

I just had an excellent baguette. I wish there were more consistent, better baguettes more regularly in my life.

Jesse, how frustrating. By the way, when he went on his walk on Sunday, had he just taken off? Or was that a usual routine walk he'd take for himself and this time it just didn't work out?

So I realized that my quick acceptance of a temporary 4-day work week with raise starts next week (three day weekend, hello Boston!) and that ED isn't in this Friday, and I don't know if he told boss lady of the new sitch. I'll text him later, but now I'm wondering if it's his responsibility or mine to inform boss lady that I'll be absent a day longer than she might normally expect. (I'd like for him to do it, since he has more authority, but I want to be able to pose the query so that that responsibility is made clear that it is his job, and not mine. But I'm not sure and need a little validation [for being a chicken shit].

I wonder what your friend distinguishes as merely femme.