Sooo, today I have a very special and slightly disturbing secret, much like the businessman on the bus you see, wearing a nice suit. But, look closer, and there is the subtle shoulder indents that can only be caused by a Cross-Your-Heart bra.
Can you even get those anymore? I refuse to google that up.
Anyway, I am wearing a nursing bra today. I am not all, SURPRISE BABY! again like I was when I got off my court-ordered blog “hiatus,” either. I just can’t find my exercise bras today. And these are cloth and comfortable, but they have little flaps. So I am slightly trepidatious that I will be doing Sideways Buttweasel and SPROING, one of my flaps will pop open. And the boobs, they don’t look the same when one flap is down. They may escape and smother one of my fellow practitioners. I try to be optimistic, but I have seen too many people lost to the boob smothering to be a total pollyanna.
Okay, I’m done.
No, I’m not.
“It’s just one of the risks of this extreme sport,” she said affectedly, like Jeff Goldblum.
In Other News
Yesterday I had a really useful meeting with a person who has run previous auctions. It was like boot camp. She tore me down and completely rebuilt me again. I am a different person today.
The first thing she said, when she saw my list of items was, “Oh, you guys are about 75 items short. Wow.” This was followed by, “If you pull this off, it will be a miracle.”
What happened this year isn’t really anyone’s fault. We lost our old chair because her child aged out of the school. I didn’t feel right about picking up the gauntlet, because I have never run an auction, or you know, even been to one. And no one else picked it up either.
But here I am now. I kind of became the official chair last week. Understandably, it is too late to get volunteers in to bail me out in any significant way at this point, so I am doing a lot of things myself. I was sitting at my kitchen table working on the catalogue text last night wondering if I should include a “letter from the chair” that was actually signed by me. I opted just to make it a general acknowledgments section. I am feeling wussy in that this late in the game I didn’t want to take the blame or the dubious glory.
The person doing decorations called me to chat. “Do you want me to thank any of the people who helped you with decorations? I’m writing that part now,” I said. “You’re the only one who helped me, besides the teachers,” she said.
Ugh, what a dud year. People are burned out, or busy. I am trying to focus on the fact that next year will be easier and probably more profitable.
Is there really a male equivalant to wearing the ‘milk bar’ bra? Maybe wearing a jock instead of underwear, but with the advent of spandex and underarmour, no one wears jocks any more.. at least no one I know.
Sideways Buttweasel caused me to hork latte into my lung. Thanks, jerk.
Oh helo J.B., now with a URL. :D
What can I say, all the cool kids are doin’ it.
Your site still hates me!
Eh, my site hates me too. I have to go in and approve my own comments now. Well, I would moderate myself, too, I guess.
Randomly:
“We lost our old chair because her child aged out of the school.”
I had a job interview today where the person interviewing me made several references to how she used to have the job I was applying for but has since been promoted to, “supporting the chair,” or “direct support of the chair,” or, my personal favorite, “directly under the chair.”
Somehow I managed to avoid making a single joke about this during an hour-long conversation.
You may now be impressed.
I totally am!
While watching bad TV late last night, a commercial for the 18 Hour Bra came on. I think those are the same as Cross-Your-Heart bras, or at least similar enough. Weird.
YAY! Well atlast I feel like I’m really commenting if I know it’s here! Did that make sense? Cuz I totally know what I meant.
“directly under the chair” is where the cat pees, at least in my mind. Like that old British children’s poem:
Listen! Listen!
The cat is pissing.
Where? Where?
Under the Chair.
Quick! Quick! Get a stick!
Don’t run. He’s all done.
Or something like that. It’s been a few decades.