IRRATIONAL ANGER

I just had a moment of irrational anger at a coworker. I know it was/is irrational, and yet....

I got the new Bravissimo catalogue, and I brought it in to work to look at on my lunch hour. It was only a matter of time, of course, before two men in my office picked it up to look at it.

One of them, whose wife is an a-cup, said, "these are all rubbish. Anna wouldn't wear any of these."

All right, so in general, I am ticked off at a world in which the only cute bras are made for women who don't even need to wear them. At all. But I think that Bravissimo has done a *great* job of talking bra manufacturers into making relatively cute ones in sizes for women who, you know, actually need them.

So why I'm just furious at this coworker for acting all superior about the fact that HIS GIRLFRIEND HAS NO BREASTS (and would never be caught *dead* in a bra that actually serves a function) is beyond me, but I am.

GOLD CUP AND GREEN FAIRIES

Evidently, today is a horse race called the Gold Cup, and a friend of mine had a tip on a horse! Not only have I never bet on a horse before, I've never had a tip on a horse, so a friend of mine taught me how to bet on horses today and yes, that is exactly what I did.

I am so excited, I could die.

Also, I haven't talked all that much about the fact that I have two friends coming over here and I am incredibly happy and excited about it. But that happens to be the case. We have been finalising our orders for robes/cloaks/whathaveyou, and they are going to be stunning!

I am fairly certain that we are going to have an official cloakmaker for the cult at this point, and we are conscious of the fact that we are establishing the future look for all cloaks. I secretly want one in a cow print. Later, I will get one. But for now, I am going to go with something a bit more subdued.

I also bought three different types of absinthe because they want to try it while they are here. They actually want to try it in a disreputable bar, but it appears to only be served in very very yuppie places. So I figure, I will try to find a disreputable bar, and if I do, they can just take this stuff home with them. Otherwise, we can have a tasting at my house or something.

Incidentally, absinthe is over 50% alcohol. Wow. I will have to be careful and make sure nobody gets poisoning.

HELL FIRE CAVES AND TEAROOM

Let's see.

Friday, I went home, and didn't do a heck of a lot. I may have watched a DVD or napped. I am *that* cool.

Saturday, I went into my backyard and tried to come up with the most diplomatic way to phrase something to my neighbors. So far, this is what I have:

Option #1

Could we try not to kill any more of my plants, or break any more plant pots? Thanks. That would really work for me.

Option #2

If one more of my plants dies, it is taking some building contractors with it.

Option #3

My fuschias are not going to be the only ones losing limbs out here.

I also decided that I am not going to tell the construction workers, "I wish you hadn't destroyed my clematis."

You would not believe the carnage. It's horrible. They UPROOTED plants. They completely smashed plant pots. The plants that have not had these indignities forced upon them have huge chunks of brick that fell from the third floor onto them, killing them. I don't know if I have mentioned this, but I sort of have a thing for gardening, and have a few thousand dollars' worth of plants on my back patio. Scratch that--had. I now have maybe $1.50 worth of plants. I am upset.

I also cleaned house and watched DVDs. Woo.

Sunday, I picked up Andrew and we went to Hell Fire Caves and Tearoom. Yes, that is what I said. These are these caves that were dug out under a mausoleum, and then had super-secret meetings of the Hell Fire Club in them. It's cool. Why Hell Fire Club? In the words of Andrew, "The St. Francis Men's Association was too long and didn't have 'Hell' in it."

We also visited the graveyard and mausoleum, and a garden nursery, where I picked up a few tiny fuschias to make myself feel better, and Andrew bought a giant wicker chicken. He is going to put a tiny real chicken inside the wicker chicken, and set it alight while the little chicken recites Bible verses. If you have never seen The Wicker Man, you have no idea what I'm talking about.

After that, I went back to Andrew's house and hung out with Keith and Neil while Andrew wandered off to fix someone's laptop. Pizza and the Simpsons. I find myself empathising with the people who want to eliminate Family Privileges.

The end.