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Saturday, March 06, 2004

For some reason I had 2 yards of this stripey denim from years ago when I attempted to make Ms. C a purse. Why I bought so damn much of it is beyond me. So I made a skirt. Now all I want to do is shop fabric and make myself an entire spring wardrobe.
Question: Why would someone with mediocre sewing skills want to wear homemade clothes?
Got me. But I have the bug.
Hancock Fabrics, here I come!

In a few weeks you'll recognize me in the bunchy, poorly hemmed fruits of my labors.

Friday, March 05, 2004

Today, one of my students drew himself a handlebar mustache, a goatee and a unibrow and fashioned an eye patch out of black constuction paper and electrical tape. He insisted that he was going to wear it all day and then out to dinner at Joe's Crab Shack with his family tonight.
I saw him about an hour after class and it was all gone.
Even the eye patch...

Bring it on
I have never welcomed the early signs of spring with such a warm embrace. Two weeks ago my main priority was staying in my flannel pajamas as much as possible. Today, it's margaritas, margaritas, margaritas.
I think Ms. Comrade put it best when said "I saw my first daffodil and almost shit my pants."
Well put.

Wednesday, March 03, 2004

My name is Jane...Jane...
I'm having one of those days where my tongue feels too big for my mouth, like it won't close properly without having to sandwich my tongue between two rows of teeth.

I've been sick for almost a week and today is the first day I feel like a human being again. It's the little things like being able to breathe out of both nostrils or not having to clamp your hands on your temples to keep your head from exploding that make all the difference.

Also, as Ms. C pointed out, the sun has returned and so has the temperate weather so I'm officially off suicide watch.
Over and out.

Sunday, February 29, 2004

You know the tides are shifting when the best night out you've had in a long time includes not just your best friends but your parents too.
Ms. Comrade, SS, Big Gray and I drove into Atlanta last night to meet my parents, had fabulous dinner (cute waiter, good wine, perfectly proportioned and delicious food) and an ABBA inspired show at the Fox Theater.
By the end of the night I had never felt so sick, but it didn't matter. My folks sent us on our way: me with a mug of Theraflu and Ms. C with a SOLO cup full of Diet Dr. Pepper for the ride home.
God bless'm.

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