Good things that have happened or are happening that I have not previously bothered to mention:

  1. My little brother, Fidridge, is getting married. This just seems insane to me, because he's my little brother. I have this idea in my head that I am not thirty-three and that he is not twenty-seven. Alternately, he's supposed to be this little fat kid in a polyester T-ball uniform or a gangly twenty-one year old busking with a guitar and dating some white-girl-dreadlocked crazy woman named after a medieval musical instrument.

    But, no. He's twenty-seven, finishing up a degree in Education, and is going to marry a lovely young woman who was just crazy enough to say yes to a marriage proposal.

    The only wedding I've attended in the last ten years was my own, because they make anxiety like bees do honey. Having to play nice for hours on end with not only my own relatives but a slew of other people I have never met makes my skin itch. Introductions, speeches, toasts, gift openings: it all means either plastering a smile over my fight or flight reflex or quietly drinking wine at the back of the room until my fingertips are numb and I start buddying up with the strange in-law aunt with the bizarre carnival rouge.

    Despite this, I am guessing that I will enjoy this particular wedding, because it is my brother after all, and his fiancé is fabulous. I will have to remember to wear a nametag to it, though, because no one is going to recognize me if I'm not my snide, anti-social self with a tragically dislocated sense of familial fealty.

  2. The Fiery One and I were offered a free ride to and from Cosmopolis on Friday, so we spent the weekend there visiting with friends and family.

    As usual, it was a whirlwind of social engagements, because we always try to fit everyone into a day-and-a-half: we had lunch on Saturday with Starcat and K at our traditional Cosmopolian lunch spot, Norm's; we hung out with Frances and Ira and Ira's pappy that afternoon; Batty and Mr. MacDonald joined most of the preceding folks and us for drinks on Saturday night, we stayed out much too late for too many pints, and I floated home on a blissful current after I threw some cold medication in on top of the ale; and then, on Sunday, the Fiery One and I had lunch with my mother and went for a walk along the riverbank while having our usual conversation about the latest state of general crapitude that has befallen our extended family.

    It was a fine weekend with fine weather and fine people, but I fear that most of it has been lost in a mental fog resulting from my exhausting struggle against mucus and fever over the last few days, which brings me to point number three...

  3. I have been engaged in an exhausting struggle against mucus and fever over the last few days, and I place the blame squarely on Cindy, the shoe saleperson. Her hacking, coughing, phlegm-swallowing, snurgling, "I am supposedly not contagious anymore" disease leapt from one host body (hers) to another host body (mine) somewhere between the size 7s aisle and the garden clogs display. She should be so thankful that that was her last shift at P@yless and that I don't know where to track her down, because I would corner her in whatever retail outlet she migrated to and share with her my graphic descriptions of mouth pain and how my lungs are like two sodden bricks.

  4. The Fiery One found us an apartment for $185 less rent a month that allows cats! This is beyond good news. Except for the part where we actually have to pack up all our stuff and move said stuff to a new apartment. And except for the part where we have to convince people that they do really want to help us move because we'll buy them beer at the end. And except for the part where we have to do it over the Canada Day long weekend.

    But still! This means that we won't have to go looking for a dumpster in a quiet alley or have to use our boxes to fashion a temporary shelter from the rain and feral alley cats. Sweet.

And now for a few links:
Just call me Author Function. (via Bitch Ph.D.)

Watch "The G Spot" (flash and audio warning) for an excellent explanation of how conception happens and how long it can for a woman to actually wind up pregnant after having sex.

Girlbomb is a good read. (via Mimi Smartypants)

I'll Have Some Shoes With a Side of Phlegm, Please