The Stars and the Cookie Jar

Hi, LJ!

*waves*

I am so tired. But I am awake! For purposes of packing and cleaning because damn, damn do I want to leave here on Thursday. I know there's some kind of big, foolish party on Thursday where I'm going, but I am flying into an airport that puts the moat in remote, really. So.

*packety packs*

....er, well, I guess up here in the liberal North it's the Salvation Army pile, but whatever. In the Goodwill Pile so far:

- pair of black pants that would be capris on anyone with legs, which have resisted altering by any
conventional means

- sleeveless blue cotton shirt from opera camp in eighth grade

- white 'crinkle cotton' summer workshirt from AL; let me tell you how crinkle cotton is a mistake in
management sartorial selections, even when it's 105F behind the bar

- sage green linen pants from high school

- salmon-and-tan um, I think it's a shirt, size mismarked, tags still on boldly proclaiming it a 3x, but I
think it's more about a 10 really

- blue, lavendar and aqua push-up bra belonging to Superdestructive College Ex; that's three exes ago

- peppermint, posy-pink, white and orange striped shirt, birthday gift from mother

- olive green shirt and matching(!!) jeans, birthday gift from grandparents in high school; what was everyone
thinking with me and martial shades of green?

- blue linen shirt with two moth cocoons

- periwinkle cotton shirt, actually rather nice, which we had to rush into a Lane Bryant on State Street to
buy when the pigeon crapped on my shoulder; the humiliation of having pigeon crap on my shirt on
State Street all the way to Wabash Ave kind of burns in my mind too strongly

- pair of ivory cotton shorts. I own shorts? Are these my shorts? WTF shorts?

The scene: a taverna, with charming little plates of mezes, and delicious hot pita bread, even if the seats were scrunchy.

Two women in love discuss world travel, suck on olive stones, daub at hummus with pine nuts, and ponder the T'ien Shan mummies.

strange_selkie: *gesticulates with a fragment of pita* If they were genetically Scythian, it wouldn't be so exciting!

darthrami: *placid* I know, dear.

strange_selkie: What's the matter with the Scythians?

darthrami: There's nothing the matter with the Scythians, dear...

Anyway, that led to the short story I'm working on for the lesbian fairy tale anthology. Don't ask! I don't know. My muses are strange, and enjoy hummus.

( In which I steal an ABC meme from everyone else... )

Oh. My aunt Deborah bought me seven pairs of pants. Hee!