It's so true.

I've been pondering doing something like Lasic

I got it done in 1999 and never regretted it. I need readers now, but it’s a lot easier than juggling spectacles or, god forbid, progressive lenses.

When my dad worked as a printer her ended up with trifocals. He looked like a bobble head reading the newspaper. And he kept losing his ATM card because it timed out before he could focus and enter his PIN. He was reduced to my mom pulling out a cash allowance for him weekly. Man, I miss him.

So far progressives seem to be meeting my vision needs. No cadaver parts that I know of. Maybe I’ll be the eventual cadaver—hopefully a ways in the future.

Since I don’t have to fly anywhere for Christmas, I’m only taking the official holiday days off and covering for the coworkers who’ve been covering for me for years. I have a new CRM to learn, and I’m hoping for several quiet days where I can go through their online ed stuff.

Tonight is a party with my sister’s marina buddies. I’ve assembled my char-booze-erie plate. I took a bunch of mini booze bottles and tied them together with gold ribbons. There’s bourbon, cognac, lemon vodka, tequila, spiced rum, and some new-to-me root beer-flavored thing that will either be terrible or surprisingly yummy—I can’t imagine a middle ground with that one. Tomorrow my sister and BiL will be coming over for dinner. And Sunday I’m going over to make Christmas cookies with two of my grandnephews. One of them is under a year old, so I expect he’ll be mostly supervising. It’s all very festive.

My niece’s family won’t be over until the following weekend, so we’re putting off presents until then. And my nephew had invited me to their annual New Years Eve gaming fest. My sister and I are talking about seeing Wicked on Christmas. So starting tonight holiday cheer will be an ongoing thing for about a week and a half straight.

That sound lovely, Calli!

I've been pondering doing something like Lasic on my eyes. I'm juggling so many pairs of glasses at this point. I've got an eye appointment next month and I'm going to ask about options there.

I've thought about it from time to time, but I'm too scared of something going wrong and fucking up my vision worse than it is now.

We used to be all "Check out my new corset!" and now we're all "Hey, I too have cadaver parts to try to shore up my crumbling body!"

The Buffy Summers to Harrowhark Nonagesimus pipeline is real.

DH got lasik surgery in Vietnam just before we met (so lots of people knew him as a glasses-wearer, and I didn't until he recently got his readers). He recommend it.

The Buffy Summers to Harrowhark Nonagesimus pipeline is real.

Steve_Rogers_Got_That_Reference.gif

The Buffy Summers to Harrowhark Nonagesimus pipeline is real.

I have got to read those books.

You really must. I wouldn't recommend them to everyone (maybe to everyone here) but I feel pretty certain you will enjoy them, Tep

Jess and Debet made me llol

Tonight is a party with my sister’s marina buddies. I’ve assembled my char-booze-erie plate. I took a bunch of mini booze bottles and tied them together with gold ribbons. There’s bourbon, cognac, lemon vodka, tequila, spiced rum, and some new-to-me root beer-flavored thing that will either be terrible or surprisingly yummy—I can’t imagine a middle ground with that one. Tomorrow my sister and BiL will be coming over for dinner. And Sunday I’m going over to make Christmas cookies with two of my grandnephews. One of them is under a year old, so I expect he’ll be mostly supervising. It’s all very festive.

That sounds Festive As Fuck! I need to cultivate some marina buddies.

The Buffy Summers to Harrowhark Nonagesimus pipeline is real.

I did not get that reference, but I'm way behind in corpsifyin' body part fiction.

I have tasks to do today which mostly require filling out forms (which I hate so much that my executive function seizes up like a Mini Cooper's uncoddled engine block), and communicating with people.

And I don't want to!

{stamps foot petulantly}

The other day I did see somebody literally do a petulant foot stomp, and the perpetrator was not a toddler but a 70+ y.o. man.

I was at the German bakery getting getting fancy cake slices for friends, and also threw in a mini-Berliner, taking one of the last four. And this old fart came in right behind me and stomped his foot in peeved annoyance that he couldn't have FOUR mini Berliners which was his regular order.

I almost gave him my mini-Berliner but he was being such a fucking baby about it I decided not to reward that behavior.

I did mean to say, excellent sounding plans, Calli!

Mmm, cake and especially Berliner with the extra zing of righteous spite