1. First of all, it turns out that some people, such as Leah’s dad, actually DO call 9-volt batteries “E” batteries, it’s not just my deluded, old-timey and now publicly-shamed husband. So if you’re a senile old Mormon, or a rustic nineteenth-century beaver trapper, my apologies. “E” battery is part of a dying vernacular, but while it still has a breath in its lungs we’ll cease and desist the mockery. For the most part. (“E” battery! *snik*)
2. I am reversing myself on the discount jeans celebration. After spending fifteen minutes and $40.00 at the Levi’s outlet I realized that my ass belongs to Mr. Strauss and that my flirtation with those other brands just left me feeling dirty and used. Lees are just too high-waisted for the taste that Levi’s has deeply instilled in me; the only thing that feels right on my hips now are low-riders that let my “muffin top” settle over the edge and breathe free. And those Lucky Brand dungarees in the baggy “boyfriend” cut, it turns out that they’re actually just too big. Once I read the size label (imagine!) I realized that size 14 is comfy but rather unflattering on my already ample cheekage; putting baggy on TOP of big just looks sloppy.
So, instead of abandoning them on a tree somewhere, if anyone wants a pair of size 10 long Lee bootcuts or a pair of size 14 (Euro 32) Luckys, e-mail me and I’ll provide photos. If you like ‘em you can PayPal me five bucks for shipping and they’re yours.
[UPDATE: both pairs have been claimed.]
3. Finally, the man who sent me the (previously unlinked but now I’m caving) medicine flavors, along with the blue plush rhinovirus that my dog, Cookie, ate, turned out to be a beyond-the-call-of-duty type of guy. He sent me TWO MORE rhinovirii, which are now being kept well out of harm’s way. Keen observation of my son has revealed that they are just right for snurgling when you just want a little soft something to cheek-snurgle and not a great, big fluffy hugging thing.