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Post by Karen on Sept 29, 2009 12:59:57 GMT -5
Also, if anyone was interested, Karen is now my favourite, as she provides me with pretty pictures of sexy Slayers/Actives. Mmmm, Eliza. AW, shucks. Twernt nothin'. I am so happy to have a tasty morsel nice girl to chew on converse with and entice with pretties welcome to the S3. *evil grin* *my devious plan to snag a minion (before Spring or Monnie gets their greedy little paws on her) has succeeded!* |
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Post by Rachael on Sept 29, 2009 13:01:38 GMT -5
Ooooo, pretty bear! *tries desperately not to look like she totally just sauntered in here for the first time, what?* Hey! Avrilys! Nice saunter.  Welcome to the board. Stay a while....We have cookies. Or are cookies. Or maybe we are only half-baked...at times... At times? *sigh* I've been trying to write ONE PAGE of my research statement for job applications for three days now. Why must academic job application deadlines coincide with my maternity leave? And WHY must my PILs be here? I'm sorry, I know they mean well, but it is NOT HELPING ME. It's making me insane. Between having her rearrange my kitchen organization to suit herself (and re-rearranging it after I put it right), the apparently genetic inability to get dishes actually CLEAN when they're washed, the constant ridiculous advice about my baby (she was NOT cold in just a onesie in the 90 degree weather, okay?), the insistence that if I take my daughter outside she'll drop dead of whatever this mysterious Vietnamese plague is that takes babies less than a month old. (Does she think, incidentally, that my home and the hospital/pediatrician's office are connected by subterranean tunnels?) I'm just counting the days until they go home. I really appreciate the cooking, I do, but it's not worth the constant invasion of my privacy. Having my MIL walk in while my boobs are exposed? Not something I signed up for. Not that I have a lot of modesty, inherently, but really. My anatomy is now apparently a matter of public inspection. |
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Post by Karen on Sept 29, 2009 13:08:48 GMT -5
Hey! Avrilys! Nice saunter. Welcome to the board. Stay a while....We have cookies. Or are cookies. Or maybe we are only half-baked...at times... At times? *sigh* I've been trying to write ONE PAGE of my research statement for job applications for three days now. Why must academic job application deadlines coincide with my maternity leave? And WHY must my PILs be here? I'm sorry, I know they mean well, but it is NOT HELPING ME. It's making me insane. Between having her rearrange my kitchen organization to suit herself (and re-rearranging it after I put it right), the apparently genetic inability to get dishes actually CLEAN when they're washed, the constant ridiculous advice about my baby (she was NOT cold in just a onesie in the 90 degree weather, okay?), the insistence that if I take my daughter outside she'll drop dead of whatever this mysterious Vietnamese plague is that takes babies less than a month old. (Does she think, incidentally, that my home and the hospital/pediatrician's office are connected by subterranean tunnels?) I'm just counting the days until they go home. I really appreciate the cooking, I do, but it's not worth the constant invasion of my privacy. Having my MIL walk in while my boobs are exposed? Not something I signed up for. Not that I have a lot of modesty, inherently, but really. My anatomy is now apparently a matter of public inspection. Ah, sweetie. I sympathize. I used a light receiving blanket thrown over the baby when I nursed around relatives. Of course, that didn't do anything for the slurping noises that were just as embarrassing.  You knew your MIL would be a pain in your backside. Smiling and nodding and gritting teeth might help get you through the next few days. I hope days, not weeks. Can you leave and go to a local library/tea shop to take a breather and work on your application?  |
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Post by Matthew on Sept 29, 2009 13:09:08 GMT -5
Also, if anyone was interested, Karen is now my favourite, as she provides me with pretty pictures of sexy Slayers/Actives. Mmmm, Eliza. Edit: To conserve space and not be all posty-spam-happy, I'll mention here that I've got to go be a grownup for a few hours *whinewhinewhine* so I will see you lot LATER. No, really. I'm leaving the tab open so all's I have to do is refresh! *is smrt* Presents are traditional when one makes a milestone like achieving Master S'cubie status (id est, at 200 posts) or when one has an odometer rollover after that point, generally every thousand posts, or birthdays, or special achievments. I suspect Karen of nefarious curry-favoring, because we normally don't celebrate the lesser levels before one ascends to Master status. But as I like the taste of the favor curry, I'll cheerfully endorse it. And we encourage posty spamminess. The sooner you hit 200, the sooner you get loads more presents. |
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Post by Anne, Old S'cubie Cat on Sept 29, 2009 13:12:52 GMT -5
Hey! Avrilys! Nice saunter. Welcome to the board. Stay a while....We have cookies. Or are cookies. Or maybe we are only half-baked...at times... At times? *sigh* I've been trying to write ONE PAGE of my research statement for job applications for three days now. Why must academic job application deadlines coincide with my maternity leave? And WHY must my PILs be here? I'm sorry, I know they mean well, but it is NOT HELPING ME. It's making me insane. Between having her rearrange my kitchen organization to suit herself (and re-rearranging it after I put it right), the apparently genetic inability to get dishes actually CLEAN when they're washed, the constant ridiculous advice about my baby (she was NOT cold in just a onesie in the 90 degree weather, okay?), the insistence that if I take my daughter outside she'll drop dead of whatever this mysterious Vietnamese plague is that takes babies less than a month old. (Does she think, incidentally, that my home and the hospital/pediatrician's office are connected by subterranean tunnels?) I'm just counting the days until they go home. I really appreciate the cooking, I do, but it's not worth the constant invasion of my privacy. Having my MIL walk in while my boobs are exposed? Not something I signed up for. Not that I have a lot of modesty, inherently, but really. My anatomy is now apparently a matter of public inspection. This too, shall pass. You and Dave and Emily are all well, yes? So, when do we get more beautiful baby pictures? |
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Post by Sue on Sept 29, 2009 13:13:56 GMT -5
Oh, and Sue: "XD" is (unless I'm smoking something: still and always entirely possible) an emoticon to indicate a big grin and scrunched-close (with smiling) eyes. Thanks Matthew. then DX is me smiling with squinchy eyes while standing on my head? |
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Post by Sue on Sept 29, 2009 13:16:19 GMT -5
I have found quite a few Gems in fandom. Also a surprising number of Virgos and Libras... totally beside the point. Yes, I think that the geminis alone make up fully one-twelfth of fandom. EDIT: Come to think of it, with the Virgos and the Libras, I'd be willing to say that we collectively make up as much as a quarter of fandom as a whole. hmm. ;D Love it, Matthew. Check this out: www.nytimes.com/2009/09/27/books/review/Holt-t.html?pagewanted=1&em |
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Post by Julia, wrought iron-y on Sept 29, 2009 13:18:28 GMT -5
Hey! Avrilys! Nice saunter. Welcome to the board. Stay a while....We have cookies. Or are cookies. Or maybe we are only half-baked...at times... At times? *sigh* I've been trying to write ONE PAGE of my research statement for job applications for three days now. Why must academic job application deadlines coincide with my maternity leave? And WHY must my PILs be here? I'm sorry, I know they mean well, but it is NOT HELPING ME. It's making me insane. Between having her rearrange my kitchen organization to suit herself (and re-rearranging it after I put it right), the apparently genetic inability to get dishes actually CLEAN when they're washed, the constant ridiculous advice about my baby (she was NOT cold in just a onesie in the 90 degree weather, okay?), the insistence that if I take my daughter outside she'll drop dead of whatever this mysterious Vietnamese plague is that takes babies less than a month old. (Does she think, incidentally, that my home and the hospital/pediatrician's office are connected by subterranean tunnels?) I'm just counting the days until they go home. I really appreciate the cooking, I do, but it's not worth the constant invasion of my privacy. Having my MIL walk in while my boobs are exposed? Not something I signed up for. Not that I have a lot of modesty, inherently, but really. My anatomy is now apparently a matter of public inspection. I expect the fact that Sam went to the grocery store on the way home from the hospital and both of mine went to the library before they were a week old would send her into a syncope or other outdated fugue state, eh? Julia, my condolences on the kitchen; Franklin and Anna are in active conflict about where about half of the cooking stuff goes. |
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Post by Julia, wrought iron-y on Sept 29, 2009 13:20:29 GMT -5
Oh, and Sue: "XD" is (unless I'm smoking something: still and always entirely possible) an emoticon to indicate a big grin and scrunched-close (with smiling) eyes. Thanks Matthew. then DX is me smiling with squinchy eyes while standing on my head? Nah, that's the OH, NO face in anime smileys. I always have to think about those, though. Julia, anime emoticons do not mix well with deep reversals. |
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Post by Sue on Sept 29, 2009 13:22:19 GMT -5
So, aside from your utility in oxygen transfer, why are you and yours pulling up stakes and moving from the lower left to the upper right? (he inquired quite nosily) Arizona is just as miserable as it was when I was growing up, the heat has made it nearly impossible for AJ (the wifey-poo) to stand up without getting dizzy, and... well, we just sorta hate big spread-out places. We're both City girls at heart (and by "City", I mean " New York City" - it's the only city that gets a capital.) and we know people up in Ithaca and it's not TOO horrifically far away from Home, so... up we go, with our cliché lesbian u-haul, and our Master-turned-auto (I named my jeep Koschei. He is, predictably, a fickle bitch. But I love him.) full of animal goodness. I'm also overly fond of parenthetical asides, if no one had caught that yet.I, on the other hand, am a transplanted Pittsburgher who has spent the past 30 years in Nashville. Closest I ever got to AZ was 9 months in Denver. Where is Erin currently? Is she in AZ? |
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Post by Sue on Sept 29, 2009 13:25:07 GMT -5
 I don't have to go to college tomorrow  Except I kind of do, because even though there's no class there is a library as could prove useful  But I mostly don't, cause I'm going in to Norwich on Friday again anyway, and could go then This would all be simpler if I could move to Norwich  Ah well. Eventually I will get the exactly perfectly place to live. I mean the place I live now is exactly where I wanted with the wallpaper I wanted without the money I didn't have, so that worked out pretty good for a whole bunch of years. I watched Moonlight. It is very much worse than Angel. It's not just that it's not as well written, it is that it has that thing where the vampire is a stalker and murdered his last long term relationship but hey, he makes her feel safe! And rescues her! And she forgives him and loves him! And doesn't mind that he kept it all secret! And of course he'd never hurt her! Except for the thing where he's hurting everyone else in view. On Angel we could see that Angel solved his problems with violence, expressed his feelings with violence, and sometimes nearly killed his friends too, because he had an imperfect safety switch. Not just the soul/less thing either, just that he was like that. And his friends remembered it and watched out for it. You never got that destructive thing where the path to personal freedom was to find a violent man and hide behind him. I'm really sick of shows full of damsels in distress. Time to really mobilize the S'cubie vibes to find becca an apt. to trade for in Norwich. |
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Post by Michelle on Sept 29, 2009 13:29:07 GMT -5
Cool! I'm ordering this for the library. |
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Post by Sue on Sept 29, 2009 13:30:17 GMT -5
Also, if anyone was interested, Karen is now my favourite, as she provides me with pretty pictures of sexy Slayers/Actives. Mmmm, Eliza. AW, shucks. Twernt nothin'. I am so happy to have a tasty morsel nice girl to chew on converse with and entice with pretties welcome to the S3. *evil grin* *my devious plan to snag a minion (before Spring or Monnie gets their greedy little paws on her) has succeeded!*GENIUS! |
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Post by Karen on Sept 29, 2009 13:31:18 GMT -5
Also, if anyone was interested, Karen is now my favourite, as she provides me with pretty pictures of sexy Slayers/Actives. Mmmm, Eliza. Edit: To conserve space and not be all posty-spam-happy, I'll mention here that I've got to go be a grownup for a few hours *whinewhinewhine* so I will see you lot LATER. No, really. I'm leaving the tab open so all's I have to do is refresh! *is smrt* Presents are traditional when one makes a milestone like achieving Master S'cubie status (id est, at 200 posts) or when one has an odometer rollover after that point, generally every thousand posts, or birthdays, or special achievments. I suspect Karen of nefarious curry-favoring, because we normally don't celebrate the lesser levels before one ascends to Master status. But as I like the taste of the favor curry, I'll cheerfully endorse it. And we encourage posty spamminess. The sooner you hit 200, the sooner you get loads more presents. Ha! Actually, back in the day, we used to celebrate the lessor status achieving of Junior, because it felt like giving birth (in my case) to post even one post. I didn't think I would ever make it to 200 - Master. And 1000 seemed like an insane amount. (31,000 + IS an insane amount) So, I am not so much curry-favoring, as I am bored out of my mind here at work and like to see pretties on the board and have the time at the moment to do the gathering and coding....which is not always the case. But thanks for the endorsement, nonetheless. For you:  |
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Post by Sue on Sept 29, 2009 13:31:45 GMT -5
Hey! Avrilys! Nice saunter. Welcome to the board. Stay a while....We have cookies. Or are cookies. Or maybe we are only half-baked...at times... At times? *sigh* I've been trying to write ONE PAGE of my research statement for job applications for three days now. Why must academic job application deadlines coincide with my maternity leave? And WHY must my PILs be here? I'm sorry, I know they mean well, but it is NOT HELPING ME. It's making me insane. Between having her rearrange my kitchen organization to suit herself (and re-rearranging it after I put it right), the apparently genetic inability to get dishes actually CLEAN when they're washed, the constant ridiculous advice about my baby (she was NOT cold in just a onesie in the 90 degree weather, okay?), the insistence that if I take my daughter outside she'll drop dead of whatever this mysterious Vietnamese plague is that takes babies less than a month old. (Does she think, incidentally, that my home and the hospital/pediatrician's office are connected by subterranean tunnels?) I'm just counting the days until they go home. I really appreciate the cooking, I do, but it's not worth the constant invasion of my privacy. Having my MIL walk in while my boobs are exposed? Not something I signed up for. Not that I have a lot of modesty, inherently, but really. My anatomy is now apparently a matter of public inspection. Mega-sympathy. |
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