Looky here. Emptiness. No November blog posts.

Oh how sad.

Especially as it’s NANO… something. National Novel Writing Month. Yeah, I don’t do that. I don’t do that because I seem to require a decade to write a novel.

Ah well. (Fortunately this particular decade is coming to a close? In January. But who’s counting? Not me.)

So I haven’t been writing. Well, I’ve been writing a lot of papers for school, but not a lot of creative anything, other than a batch of poems. I think I might even like the poems. Poems are so friendly and all (except that they aren’t, really. Couple of them might be a little cranky, but I like them anyway.)

But a blog post. What about a blog post? I was thinking about a blog post the other day while I was changing the sheets and it had something to do with underwear and laundry and how my daughters get totally “grossed out” (for reasons utterly beyond my comprehension) when I make them stand there while I contemplate buying new bras at Target which I know will not fit me and will drive me insane for the next six months until I decide that I just can’t take it anymore and fling them into the trash, but it will have been worth it because the purchasing process allowed me to torture said daughters by not only mortifying them in the bra section, but then continuing to talk about BRAS loudly (and I’m not terribly loud so it’s really not all that offensive) while we shop for t-shirts (to wear on top of BRAS) and laundry detergent (to wash the BRAS) and Scotch tape (which will not work as a BRA) and washcloths (to use before wearing a BRA) and toilet paper (Mom! Don’t say that either!) and printer cartridges (to print out blog posts about BRAS) and juice boxes (yeah, those have nothing to do with BRAS) and all the other random miscellany (all of which will be used while wearing a BRA) that ultimately constitutes the $150 that is inevitably spent every time I walk into Target. Then I was thinking about the day before when my husband was at Old Navy and he said that N said she needed new underwear and I said I don’t think so and he said are you sure? and I said no I’m not sure because every girl always needs new underwear—in fact I think every person probably always needs new underwear—but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you actually have a small quantity of underwear, it only means that it would be awfully nice to have some new underwear (which is an entirely different thing). A friend of mine in college said once that if she ever got really rich she would never wear the same pair of underwear twice, which strikes me as an awful lot of underwear, which is really not a thing you can hand down like gloves or shoes or even, you know, BRAS, which, if they’re those really expensive dress up things that double as body armor, can definitely be shared among friends.

And looky there. A blog post. A weird one, perhaps, but a blog post nonetheless.

Happy Turkey day everyone!

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