h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

3 classes down.....6 to go.

But you have to do it... It's "For them chillins".

7 through sheer....wonderfulness! *whisper* guessing...

[fg]

Errands are run. Now for some paying work.

A large brandy, please, Matina.

*A glass of brandy is whisked infront of Hyp asap, complete with a small plate of comforty munchy food*

How's the child invasion going then?

Lil*, I have to pass on the juried exhibition. I've been thinking a lot about it but have no time to write it down.

There is a second round with fewer paintings, right? Maybe I'll be sorted out then.

The manager of 15's school is not going to like my latest mail. He has refused to meet me. He is really condescending in his dialogue with me (and 15, he tells me) - and I told the manager that was how I experienced it (left 15 out) and that I don't find it constructive.

[Mr. D ]

kelli, you and my mum could commiserate. My dad's mum was a dreadfully mean person (no insult meant, Mr. D!). When my mum got pregnant, she offered her $$ to go away and not bother my dad again. She constantly refered to my mother by names that are not repeatable here, and constantly questioned my parentage in front of me. (I have my dad's nose, ears, skin tone...kinda obvious that I'm my dad's kid)...just awful, she was.

And you know what? Both her sons moved as far from her as they could as soon as they could. She died still pissed off at the universe from breast cancer that had spread because she refused to allow a doctor to examine her breasts.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly generous, I feel sorry for her. My mum, who considers herself a Christian, actually believes that she's in hell for having been such a mean person.

So I sympathize! My suggestion is what other people have said, and it worked for my mom. Realize she's unhappy and bitter and that YOU, dear, are so much better than she is. And show it. More flies with honey and all that.

{Courtesy}

*sips brandy and munches munchies*

191 five year olds today. Tomorrow morning I'll have about 230 six year olds and 210 seven year olds.

Do you realize that a five year old will raise his hand regardless of the question? We read a story called "When Pigs Fly" about a cow who wants a bicycle and is told he can have one when pigs fly. So he goes to the airport, learns how to fly a helicopter, takes his friend pigs for a ride and gets the bike. Cute story. I asked one of the classes if any of them knew how to fly a helicopter. Most of them raised their hands.

* from a 713-post blog*

and also at the junior helicopter pilots ...

I've missed so much good conversation! And B's birthday! And new people (hello new people)

Shoes: I have size 8 feet. Shoe sizes in the UK are also quoted in European sizes. Many manufacturers label the shoe "8" and I become terribly excited at the prospect of a lovely lovely shoe which I can afford and which will fit me ... only to find that in fact it's a European 41, which is actually *smaller* than a 7½, and not a great deal of use to me.

This did not stop me buying the most gorgeous pair of kitten-heel mules today ... size 41 ... but c'mon, open-toed, how big do they need to be?

Names: Full name Deborah. Family call me Debbie. Schoolfriends call me Debs. In my gap year, I worked in London as a secretary and felt that Debs was a bit Sharon and Trace (I'm afraid I can't think of a modern or non-UK equivalent so that explanation will be a bit meaningless to many Salonistas). So when I arrived at my first assignment, I said "Call me Molly". And they did.

Nine weeks later I met the man who is now my Darling Husband.

So, pretty much everybody who has met me since 1988 calls me Molly, and everybody who has known me longer calls me Debbie or Debs. When my parents moved up to this part of the world, and started mixing socially in the same circles, I attempted to re-educate my friends and neighbours into calling me Debbie. I failed miserably, and then Mum said that actually it didn't really matter anyway. Sometimes she even calls me Molly herself (which is a bit weird).

I think now that in making that decision to change my name, I was attempting to change the person. I did it again last year, when I changed jobs, and asked to be known as Deborah. I was in the middle of a complex crisis, and not sure of who I was any more. Taking a new name suddenly seemed very important in that context.

I took DH's surname when we married. Only reason I married him, really, to acquire a more interesting surname

to those that need it. Hot buttered toast and hot chocolate with a dash of something, please, Matina - for me, and anybody currently under the weather.

Mol

Kelli - It's true that your mum-in-law is a very bitter, sad person - but don't think that you have to be the saint in this situation. J needs to say something to his mother about her behavior. He can't continue to dodge the issue by not speaking to her. As difficult as that can be... sigh...

My own mom is fortunately not one of those bitter mean in-laws - my husband gets along with her just fine. But as she gets older, she's less tactful about what she wants to say. She seems to come right out and say just what she's thinking at the time - whether anybody else is having a conversation with me or not. I might be talking to my pop, but mom will start talking to me right in the middle of my conversation with dad - and continue talking until I turn around and talk to her. I think she's going a bit crazy, actually, and I'm afraid to confront her with it. She's getting more and more absent-minded. She's not at all stupid - when she's right, she's right - but more and more often she's making bad decisions. Dad's afraid to let her drive anywhere any more.

On a happier note, I've planted more stuff in the yard. More Texas native perennials, because I'm tired of planting new stuff every year. I'm trying a new plant called salsify, which I've never heard of before. R. took one look at the picture and said 'Those look like those poisonous carrots we aren't supposed to eat.' I just laughed. I've got three Swiss chard plants, and some lettuce seeds planted. Rosemary is in the flowerbed, as well as oregano, peppermint and lavender. Now the only issue is keeping everything watered.

Weather report time!

Updated Apr 13 06:25 p.m. MT
Partly Cloudy and Windy
73°F

Wind: From SSE at 24 mph gusting to 33 mph
Humidity: 15%
Pressure: 29.53 in.
Dew Point: 23°F


Personally, I think the wind speed is a bit low, it's enough to nearly blow me over and I weigh 170lbs.

All those copter pilots! I bet they're going to do fine in Los Angeles as traffic reporters.

I have taken Hypatia's critique into account after I created the shortlist, and found that ... well, I'll explain in the juried show thread, where I am now going to post the link to the shortlisted paintings.

*heads out of the salon toward the exhibition area*

http://www.asterlil.com/h2g2/juryshow/shortlist.htm
been there done that wheres the t shirt

As long as everybody reports their critique on the other thread -- it will be a headache to hunt down the scoring across more than one conversation.

Penny Whistle is da bomb -- I received notes by email this evening, despite a week of crashed computer, poor thing. I hope to do something with her scribing tomorrow. Or the next day.

I was about to take off my running shoes but then I saw the smilie. I think I'll keep them on for now.

Why did it take 12+ hours for my arm to get sore from the tetanus shot? It doesn't usually take that long.

Perhaps you're less allergic than usual... Or maybe the nurse didn't jab you quite as hard. I remember my TB shot - she stuck that thing in, lifted the needle up, and then injected me. Ouch!