I Got Fitted

I got fitted for a bra today. I’ve lost weight and I was having the world’s worst time trying to find one that fit. So I went to Lane Bryant (the store for cool & trendy fat chick clothes) and got a free fitting. The verdict? Are you sitting down? 42G or 44F (whichever I found more comfortable)!! What kind of crazy is that? I told the fitter that I seriously doubt any store would carry such a freakish size. (A few months ago I wore a 46DD comfortably.) And yes, I do have an extraordinary set of kahoonies to be stating all this publicly! Thanks for asking.

Sorry for the lack of being-aroundness. I’ve been getting one interruption after another while trying to set up the next issue of

Notice Regarding RTV and Other Stuff

In recent weeks, my personal life has been very stressful. This includes reaching a critical period in food vs starvation, food rationing and so forth. I’ve been in eat-once-every-two-days mode for a while; the one time I had an abundance of food my body went into OMG-MUST-EAT and I was so hungry that I thought my stomach was going to eat its way through my back. Going without food = being less hungry. Suddenly having food = sudden intense hunger that won’t stfu. I prefer the former. heh.

The food situation is stable again for the time being since I was able to borrow funds from my mother. That’s not the point of this post, but it illustrates the worries I’ve been dealing with. It’s all dominoed now, to the

Expansion of Intent

Things are busy around here for the next few days. I’ve got to get the next issue of Rending the Veil done, I’m profoundly behind on my domestic duties, there’s a therapist appointment and a need to buy groceries, and I’ve received a new editing assignment from Immanion Press. So I’ve got a full plate, but since I like to keep busy and I’m in dire need of more income, I’m signing up to hopefully do some paid posts. I want to assure you that I will be honest in these posts and won’t sell a product for the sake of selling the product; I intend to accept paid assignments for products and services that I believe in and personally like. I’ll tell you more about that

Sob Story, Move Along

Because I’m feeling a little whiny, and because I want to try out the Wordpress 2.5 gallery feature, I’m going to share with you the pathetic state of my pantry. I wrote an email to my mom, earlier:

My cupboards are seriously bare. I’m down to odd bits like jello, margarine, and pickles, and one or two items that don’t go together – like stew meat and sloppy joe mix. Tonight I used the stew meat and made the weirdest “beef stew” you’ve ever seen. Recipe: brown 2 lbs stew meat in too much oil (to make more broth), onion, a jar of mushrooms. Add handful of bullion cubes and water. Add 1/4 bag of old frozen veggies and some old frozen-into-a-rock carrots Jesi left. Add last can green beans

Faux Pas of the Written Word, or Please Don’t Mar the Grammar

I suppose it was inevitable. I’m an editor by preferred trade, stemming from a natural capacity for grammatical snobbery. This evening as I surfed EntreCards, I happened upon a post on grammatical pet peeves, rekindling my own irritation toward a number of written mistakes. Bluntly put, certain errors of written expression can make a person look like an idiot and leave a reader with a negative impression. After six years of online journaling and 10 of forum interaction, I have seen more ridiculous mangles of the English language than I ever dreamed possible. The grammar Nazi in me rarely lets a consistent mistake go without eventually commenting on it, and it has always made me wonder just what sort of twisted pride is involved in a person’s stubborn refusal