I have a ton of stuff I could work on, but I have, like, zero brain because allergies. I'm leading a meeting in 15 minutes. I hope I don't just drift off and stare at a wall.

My name was #1 the year I was born. My today name would be Emma and my name from the 1950s back would have been Mary. Boring!

I love my silver hair, I wish I had more of it, and I think some dudes can totally rock a beard! Also, I really loathe the use of the word "hipster" as an insult. It's used by so many people to mean "person who likes things I don't understand or like."

-t, you are so not a Debbie.

The oncology office surprised me by switching me from an infusion that takes more than an hour to one that takes 15 minutes, so I had enough spoons left to spend all the money at Target. I even managed to stand and read all the sunscreen to find one I'm not allergic to. I also bought a straw fedora. Sadly, it is not red.

My hair has gone almost completely white. Which ... well, once I started coloring it, it took about ten years off my appearance. I enjoy the now auburn color (although an ISSUE with the colorist last time has left me with sort of light sandy-brown-slightly-auburnish hair). The good thing about white hair, as opposed to grey, is that it grabs the color and holds it. Grey hair, as I understand it, tends to resist color.

Hah...if I had been born in the 70's my name would be the same as my daughter's name. Alas, my name now would be Charlotte. Which, no...that is my dad's third (and current) wife. And K-Bug's name, had she been born in the 50's, would be a variant of my name.

I checked and it looks like my name today (going by my first name) would be Ava ... not bad.

Oy. I'm taking over the presentation of what our department does. My boss has a vision that I will be great at it. We'll see.

Thank you, Ginger, that's what I think. Hooray spoons! And fedora!

Hooray spoons, Ginger, and you might do something festive with a scarf or possibly sponge-dye for the fedora.

Also wishing your sister and mom (and you, always) fast healing, and you especially, sense-making with the baffling billing.

We do know the difference between Robert Mitchum's fedora and the hipster trilby, yes? A lot of hipsters don't.

I have always wanted white hair, failing that, even iron grey hair. I'm still stubbornly brown, though the thyroid issues and the meds thereby have thinned what was a gloriously, often problematically thick head of fine, cobwebby hair to a much more sparse crop--which without the aid of product would be woeful and sad. Yes, still mousy brown, but there is a streaking of silver-grey right on top of my head. As most of the world is taller than I, they can see it. I cannot.

My name today would be Alessandra. I like that.

For my next job interview, I'm going to have to do a 10-15 minute "lesson" on an introductory calculus topic, while pretending that the audience is students who have never seen it before, but the audience is actually professors. I really hate these things. When I'm teaching, I need to get feedback from the students, either by asking questions or by just watching to see if they're paying attention or if they look confused or whatever. I never have any idea how to do these things.