<picks up Sattua’s fallen torch>
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.
Yes both, but not in the same cycle. Baking soda in the wash, and vinegar in the rinse. Works best if you have a fabric softener dispenser of some kind so you don’t have to remember to add the vinegar at the rinse cycle.
<protip>Also vinegar will get your towels fluffy without waxy dryer sheet residue. </protip>
This is genius. I should really get a custom shirt for events like that. Just go to them with an “If I stink, TELL ME DAMMIT” t-shirt.
Being a big fat chick, I have to have excellent grooming and wear neat, clean and more mainstream clothing or I get called a fat slob. I could have been freshly showered, but wearing sweats and a tshirt, slob. I could be wearing great clothing, but my hair not neat, and smelling slightly sweaty, slob. It has to be both.
Many big hairy guys don’t groom well - unkempt beards, sloppy hair. Does not reflect well. If you figure ‘it’s a video game tournament in a dude’s basement, let it all hang out, nobody but us guys here’ you are very wrong. Groom like you are going to an appointment with someone you do not want to insult - neat, tidy, antiperspirant/deodorant, perhaps cologne. Groom your hair, wear tidy clothing. Great time to invest in a specific con wardrobe - 3 or 4 great SF/fantasy/gamer t-shirts that fit, 2 pair of good comfortable pants - khaki slacks are great. 4 sets underwear/socks and keep them clean and not smelly. If your feet sweat, get odor eater insoles, and toss a few black tea teabags [dry, unused] into them to soak up and neutralize any random smells. You can use antiperspirant on the soles of your feet, by the way.
The ten pages includes the frontispiece, title page, acknowledgements (be sure to thank Tabitha King for her input), glossary, ex libris, etc, right?
There’s some great advice for all of us in there, aruvqan. Since I retired it’s hard for me to remember not to go out in public looking like I just got up, even if I did. Rumpled and too-big clothes are my downfall; I hate to iron and I like to be comfy, but just putting on clothes that actually fit and aren’t wrinkled makes a big difference in how sales clerks, for example, treat me.
I hate open casket funerals. Today is going to be hard enough without seeing my father laid out. Not my decision, though.
Oh, yeah. My dad died. Last Thursday. I’m the only one here representing that he had a pretty full life **before ** he met my stepmom and her family. Which means I am speaking at my own father’s memorial service. The past 5 days have been stress and suck, and today is not an improvement. I can’t sleep anymore, and I don’t need to be up for at least another 90 minutes.
I’m not ranting about Dad dying; with his health it wasn’t totally unexpected. But having to deal with all the arrangements, that I’ll complain about.
I finally got my glasses from Zenni Optical in the mail yesterday after TWO WEEKS. The problem is that they are too tight on my head. Seriously. They pinch my nose and hurt my temples so bad that I don’t want to wear them. My old pair are four years old and are scratched all to hell. So now I have to find a place that will adjust glasses that they didn’t make without charging an arm and a leg. Or breaking them.
(snerk) Unfortunately, I think that ten only counts actual content.
Good default actions, but if at all possible try to get some idea of how cologne or particularly fragrant deodorant will go over on who you will be with. If you don’t know, TAKE IT EASY on how much you use. Some people (not me, but a couple of my friends, as I mentioned upthread) are very sensitive to the stuff.
I’m sorry for your loss, Indyellen. I hope you are able to get through the service by keeping your mind on the good times with your dad. Losing a parent is like nothing else and I hope you have someone to talk to and someone to comfort you, in person. Of course we are here for you if you need to vent.
Thanks, kayT.
I’m sorry for your loss, Indyellen.
Mini-whine: I. Want. A. Shamrock. Shake.
I cannot have one. Well, I can, but I would pay for it dearly. Last week I had a single scoop of ice cream, took my phosphate pill beforehand, and still scratched behind my left knee bloody. I have dropped the Diet Coke. I haven’t had a glass of milk in almost two years. No chocolate. I have itsy bitsy pieces of cheese, like a friggin mouse, maybe once a week, because I know I will pay. I have walked past the damn Girl Scout cookies like a pro.
But I cannot crack this craving.
Really? I thought McDonald’s shakes were pretty much made from sugar, carrageenan, and food coloring.
Neosporin. Try Neosporin.
I used to have a job where part of my work was maintaining all of the hardware in the office. I would get regularly called to one co-worker’s office to vacuum her keyboard because she always ate sandwiches in her office and spilled crumbs into the keys.
This is a mini-rant / pit that might have a bonus add-on.
Roommate went to the hospital yesterday while I was at work because he said his heart was racing and he couldn’t “hold” his food. While he’s describing his symptoms, the doctor suggests it might be an issue with his pancreas. They run a few tests, and also advise that he see a psychiatrist, as he’s been going through a lot lately - bad break-up, hates his job, our impending move, his cat was rushed to the vet last week, etc.
He comes home last night and we watch tv. At 9:45, he gets a call. It’s the doctor, informing him of his test results - an enlarged liver and a spot on his kidney. (The liver isn’t a surprise, but that’s a story for another day)
So, he went in for additional tests today, and should hear back fairly soon. I called him to check in on him (a mutual friend drove him to the hospital and is staying with him while they wait, back at our apartment). Well, I was an idiot and called him from my work phone. Now I worry that I made him anxious when he saw an unknown number pop up on his caller ID. Not only that, but there’s still no news.
In the interim, my amazing boyfriend just won tickets to a sporting event tonight and is trying to pressure me to go. I’m trying to stress to him that it might be more important that I spend time with the roommate, depending on the test results, but he keeps giving me a guilt trip about it.
And milk. Milk is the problem. Stupid body.
The good news? Eldest is a bookworm with a huge love of books.
The bad? She lost a library book. Ugh. Twenty bucks in replacement costs. It’s a good thing she’s cute. She’s now my maid for a week.