As reported by Amy over at The Unexamined Life, I have been cajoled into participating in a 30 day plan for ye olde blogge.  I think many much other people on the internets will be participating, but the only two I really care about are the aforementioned Amy (ha! best superhero name ever!) and madame Katieface at Twelve Days Old.  However, I do not wish to tell you what you’re getting into, because that means typing.  Or, at the very least, it means cutting and pasting.  I will not stand for it!



yup, I keep my mirror in the kitchen.

OBVIOUSLY this is a picture of me yesterday, gallivanting off to a costume party in my cheerleading outfit from yesteryear, commonly known as damn high school.  Anyone who claims to have had an only good high school experience is either lying, or peaked there.  Both are sad options.

Anyway, my today was the first day of my new job.  I sat next to my trainer (also my friend) who went about her day, narrating her activities as I took notes in the pretty pink notebook she got for me.  I mostly took file path notes, though.  It was kinda fun, except for the part where I didn’t get to take a nap after lunch.  And there was no recess.  There was clear nail polish in the bathroom to stop the five or so runs in my BRAND NEW PANTYHOSE that I kinda sorta cut up this morning. . . look, they weren’t comfortable.  The waistband always, always digs into my tummy and that either just hurts my skin or makes me nauseated and stomachachey, so I cut the legs off and hooked them on with my garter belt I got for my wedding.  White and lacy, yes it was.  Also, I was a tetch smaller at my wedding, so le garter belt didn’t attempt to disappear into the flesh covering my hips on that day.  Today, it did.  Ouch.  Ew.  I need to formulate a new plan for Wednesday.  Hose aren’t a must, but . . .they just seem so grown up.  And unpleasant.  End of the day saw me happy, and thinking I have a good possibility of being happy at work.  Because it’s grown up work.