Archive for August, 2012

These are pretty unrelated and tend toward the silly. I blame society and the fact that I am in a silly mood. The fact that I am in a silly mood and not a sour, irritable mood can be ascribed to my lovely new supplements which are making my brain much nicer. Be sure to take a look at Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes.


For the last couple of weeks I’ve been feeling tired. Very, very tired. The brain has been foggy, the get up and go  non-existent. I chalked it up to making people. Turns out, my iron levels are super low. Baby Cubbedge has been sucking my life force right out of me. Le sigh. Fortunately, my iron supplements aren’t upsetting anything, and I thought I saw color in my lips this morning. Hurrah!


My daughter loves Jamiroquai. She says that Jaykay is her buddy. I’m not worried about her love for Jamiroquai, but am unsure if Jaykay is the best buddy figure for a four year old, though I can see the appeal. Particularly the hats.


Speaking of Philomena, a couple of days ago, in what I imagine to be an attempt to get in touch with her roots,  painted herself blue and took off most of her clothes.


It took a while to clean up.


My bury my head campaign on Facebook and blogs is working. I pay attention to the news and talk about it with Will, but I have studiously avoided all bloggy things that are poorly thought out and basically exercises in know-it-all-ism. My stress levels are down and when I do stumble across something really stupid or mean I utter a mild(ish) oath or two and move on.


Who steals French tip nail pens out of manicure kits? My lovely husband, sacrificing a substantial amount of man-cred, purchased a kit for me last night and brought it home. I got all my nail stuff out when I noticed the pen wasn’t there! Quel domage. While I recognize this is clearly a problem white people have, I was still pretty upset. Where will the madness end?


I do think it’s pretty awesome that Gloria Steinem herself is annoyed that the powers that be are making it as hard as possible for Democratic delegates to keep their children on the Democratic National Convention floor. Apparently, the babies must be issued credentials. The problem is that when the mothers try to get credentials for their nursing infants and tots they get the runaround. Granted, Ms. Steinem is fairly cynical in her take on it, but it was a refreshing bit of sense from an otherwise played out ideologue.







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