Heated Onesie

My apartment is cold, and what I want more than anything in the world, right now, is a onesie made with panels of magical self-heating fabric. I would never take it off: not in the shower, not when I journey into the outside world to hunt for rations, not for the nocturnal mating call of my lovelorn man-friend, not ever.

I'm sure the heated sections could be placed more helpfully, but I guess I was going for an aesthetically pleasing effect. I realized only afterwards that I gave it a heated crotch. Ahem.

Home from the sea

San Fransisco had a store that sold only macarons. It was like all my money was already printed and watermarked in their name, and why even bother carrying it around pretending I might spend it on something else.

Dirty Cups

Good Sisters and Bad Sissies

My sister, being generally a model of sisterly perfection, sent me a package of tasty things from Lancaster, where she's been staying this last month. Best sister ever.