My BiL posts enough to keep me aware of what's going on in their household (or at least what cute stuff their cats are doing), for which I am duly grateful.

My primary means of communication with my sister in Pennsylvania is Facebook.

Fake pockets should be outlawed. It's fraud.

Fake pockets are at least honest in their fakedness. In boot camp, our pants had pockets, but we were not allowed to use them or put our hands in them. If anyone was caught with their hands in their pockets more than once, they had to sew them up. I believe the reasoning was that if you stood around with your hands in your pockets, you would be unable to provide an appropriate salute if required. In which case, why pockets?

I really wish I could get into a credit union, but the ones around here are for public employees.

I'm not sure exactly where you are, but you might check into credit unions affiliated with universities. It might only be unique to my own, but the UW credit union allows anyone who lives within a 5 mile radius of a branch join, which effectively covers the entire city.

Timelies all!

My parents are barely online. I get email from them every so often, but mostly we communicate by phone. I think my brother is on Facebook, but I'm not.

Consuela, there are a number of credit unions around here that are community-based rather than employer-based. I'd be really surprised if that was more common where I am than where you are. I know my credit union used to be strictly for employees of Shell but is now open to anyone in the community (who lives there, works there, or goes to school there, I believe, it's pretty broad (I actually wouldn't qualify under that but I joined as an employee's dependent back in the day)) so you might want to recheck your options.

Fake pockets are at least honest in their fakedness.

No, I will not grant that. They are tricksy and out to deceive. And I include the too-small-to-hold-anything pockets in my definition of fake pockets.

Having pockets and being prohibited from using them is a whole different ball of wax.

So this whole week has been instance after instance of fuckery. Or at least two of them.

I needed to take 2 periods off on Thursday so we could go and get a marriage license at the registrar's office. Usually at a school there is an SAA who handles it and makes someone cover. My school is particularly small, so it's harder. And it was. She asked me to call the sub desk, so I did. Requesting specific subs who subsequently weren't available. Thursday AM, I go to work. My sub had shown up at my old school. Um. Oh no.

So I had to go and ask my own coworkers to work for me. I felt like a big giant imposition.

The whole thing was just too much.

My plantar fasciitis is flaring up as is my ITB (PF from running and ITB from swimming with fins). It'll be okay, but it's extremely uncomfortable.

Sorry for the discomfort and the difficulty with work coverage, but marriage license? May I congratulate?

Thanks, -t. I mean, the horses have rather left the barn on this, but...thanks!

Like -t I am going to focus on the congrats part!

Also, poor extremities! I am wearing thick socks and cushy crocs today because of being stupid about walking on tile floors barefoot. My feet starting yelling loudly this morning.

Marriage is fun regardless! I mean the act, not necessarily the living.....

I have never been so mad that the temperature went above freezing! A good chunk of my sidewalk that was packed snow is now slippery ice. I just spent a a half hour whacking at it, but that was all I could take. More later, I guess. And sand. We need lots of sand.