Shedding the extra insulation.

September 22, 2008

I’ve  been dieting, and it sucks and doesn’t suck all at the same time.  I’m not going to go into details, ’cause nobody’s interested and I don’t want to jinx myself.  But hey, it’s thus far successful, and my boobs don’t fit in my bra anymore.

Which is a good thing.  ‘Cause that was a big ‘ole bra.


Have you ever flashed on a conversation (or a look, or a feeling) from earlier in your day and realized that your perception at the time was completely wrong?  In less than a second, you factor in all of the actual context – the tone of voice, the thing-previously-said, the mood of the other person – and come to the real conclusion?

Just did that.  And though I now think I missed out on a dinner invitation from a person I’d really like to have dinner with, it’s completely okay – I would have had to turn her down anyhow, and I was able to stick to the plan and have freshly-caught salmon with my folks.  Hurrah!


I’m watching Jon and Kate + 8 in the background here, and I can’t imagine.  What a lark, what a plunge.  What a mess.  How many babies does one girl need?


I’ve decided what I want for my next tattoo.  But I want to put it on my wrist, and that means it is perpetually visible.  Everything else can hide – I can take out my nosering, and I can wear shoes that disguise my foot garden (and who looks at feet anyway?) and generally I’ve just got private artsy stuff going on.  That’s a line I’d have to deliberately cross, and there’s no way to go back.  But how much of the perception of professionalism is truly compromised with a visible tattoo – especially in one who plans to be an arts administrator?  Would it be a liability, or would it be a selling point – a little nudge to viewers to say, “She’s got her shit together, but she’s artsy too!


Enough.  Reading for class, then bed.  Nine-forty-one, and all’s well!

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