Of course it moves at night, no one is looking at it then.
Oh, this is so much fun!
Once upon a time, there was a young girl who married a charming young boy, who everyone said was great and perfect for her. He turned out to be a jerk, and left her six months later.
The girl moved back home, and met a man who everyone said was all wrong for her and inappropriately older. She ignored that advice because the man treated her with kindness and respect and made her feel beautiful every day. 23 years later, he still does.
A few years ago, I was at my Dad's wedding to a lovely lady (so happy!). The whole crew on that side of the family is ultra-conservative religious, nice people, but I have to bite my tongue a lot so as to get along.
My partner did not attend with me, but relatives know about him, and I guess Dad had told them about me and my "husband". We're not "really" married, never did the official thing, but we have been living in sin together for 22 years, so no one is going anywhere.
So, I'm having a conversation with an elderly relative who I hadn't met before, and we exchange emails, he's an interesting guy. He asks me to put my name down too, so he doesn't lose track in all the contacts from the party. I put down my name- Myfirstname Mylastname.
He is so surprised- "but that's your Dad's last name, what does your husband say, why didn't you take his name . . . .!!!"
So, now I have to decide if I say, no, I kept my own name, I'm one of those feminist types, which is one sort of deviance; or do I say, no, Dad actually lied, we're not married at all, which is a whole other level of badness.
I went with the feminist thing, so as to not out Dad in his little white face-saving lie at his own wedding. The ironic thing is that I rarely even use my last name at all, I have an unusual first name and am the only person with that name that most people know. I bet 3/4 of my friends don't even know my last name.
So many layers of social complexity in just those few minutes, whew.
Oh, the Castellani theft breaks my heart! I work in granulation, not nearly at that level, and their work is an inspiration to me. I want to cry at the loss of such beauty, it sadly probably will get melted at some point, too hard to sell as is.
"When you first started watching Justified, did you imagine that some day you'd be thinking: "Man, that Boyd Crowder knows how to treat a woman right?"
No, actually, when I first started watching Justified, all my thoughts were about The Marshall. And this is not an appropriate place to share any of those thoughts. And that picture demonstrates exactly why this is so. And DAMN.
Yay! Washed Ashore art project near Bandon! I see that on my way to the store each week!
Pro tip: February is the loveliest month here on the southern Oregon coast. No, really. It's not any colder than summer, honestly, and it's not windy yet. Although it looks pretty lovely out there today, too.
These totally reminds me of this toy that I loved when I was little!
@iceberg My husband is an absolute nutcase for Coogi sweaters, he has dozens of them. I don't know what to think about that, they look really dorky in a way, but then the patterns are beautiful, and they suit him somehow, he loves them so much that I think his sheer confidence makes it all work. And I love him, and am probably stuck with the sweaters as part of the whole package, anyway.
@stonefruit In my mind, that's not even the weirdest part. The truly skin-crawling fact is that (at least in the church I grew up in) the people who are physically baptized to retroactively baptize the dead people are the church youth groups. Seriously, whole buses of us were carted off to Salt Lake every year to get dunked on behalf of dead people who had avoided becoming Mormon during their time on earth.
Like Ms. Alex, I have lots of feelings about this as well, many of them revolving around the concept of taking on someone else's karma and having made a really, really big and wrong decision on behalf of probably hundreds of people due to being a teenager and wanting to please all the Mormon adults around me. It's ridiculously screwed up, and the last time I went, I saw how screwed up it was in epic, freaking out kinds of ways, which was the beginning of my break with the church. (I am fine now, except for resentment over all this past ickiness, really!)
When my little sister was a kid, and driving my little brothers crazy, they invented the Far Game. Here's how it goes:
Sister stands by brothers, saying "am I far yet?". Brothers say "no!"
Sister goes into next room, and yells "am I far yet?". Answer- "no!"
Sister goes out into yard .... and so on until she is out of earshot. Then, sister comes running back, happy she won.
She thought it was a blast, until she figured it out years later.