Sewing at 120 BPM

So, the fabric for the jacket I am working on has a very large and obvious pattern. So instead of being able to just double the fabric and cut two of each piece at a time, I have to lay out each piece individually making sure that each one is a mirror of the other. Very VERY tedious.

While laying out the patterns, a few dance songs came on back-to-back randomly on my iTunes, and they actually flowed together pretty smoothly. It suddenly dawned on me what I was doing.

I've been beatmatching fabric. Ha! :)

Will someone please photoshop a picture of a dj, head pressed into the headphones on his/her shoulder, Scratching a turntable, except that instead of vinyl, its a huge spool of thread? Please?!? I'd do it, but I'm too busy right now, and Google laughed at me when I tried an image search.

Blast(s) From the Past

So, somehow or another, my email got hacked last night. Husband figures I probably used a computer at school that has some sort of password reading bug on it. Friends started emailing me to make sure I knew that something was wrong. Anyhow, after changing my password and spamming everyone who got spammed with a message saying it should be fixed, I'm hoping its all taken care of and is resolved.

But I'm continuing to get emails, just of a different kind. I've got handfuls of people on my address book that frankly I haven't talked to in forever, or had written off for some reason or another, and now they're starting to write me. Got an email from a guy I hadn't spoken to since before Mags was born, and two others I haven't spoken to in at least 2 years. Actually, now that I think about it, *all* of the emails I've gotten are from guys I used to know. I guess most of them I'm pleaseantly surprised to hear from, but there's one that I'm a little less than thrilled about. Oh well.

Its making me sit down and think about what I mights say to these folks, though. How would I sound if I was reading my life update of the last several years? Things have changed so, so much (as life is wont to do.) Mostly I guess I wonder if these people will still be interested in talking to me if I tell the truth. Ah, the fragile ego....

Nice.

Offspring Story of the Day

The pastor began the service. 250 guests sat quietly watching in the cathedral. Mags smiled and surrepticiously waved from the altar where she stood with the other wedding attendants. Suddenly, a concerned look crossed her face.

Mags: (mouths something unintelligible yet seemingly important. Gestures at face.)

Me: (puzzled look, hand to ear)

Mags: (slow, exaggerated mouthing, more pointing)

Me: (still puzzled, then light dawns. Quickly give the thumbs-up sign.)

Mags: (happy smile, turns back to the altar)

Is. My. Lip. Gloss. Still. On.