Nutcracker Market this weekend, but alas, this is my week to drive up to College Station, so I’ll have to skip it this year. It’s okay, though—I’m sure I’ve experienced enough rhinestone-studded camo Jesus-wear over the last three years to last me until 2009. I wouldn’t mind sampling a few more of those cherry-everythings, though.

In related news, we’re going to try to make it out to the Texas Renaissance Festival for its last weekend two weeks from now. I’ve hatched the ambitious plan of making myself a skirt to go with the fabtastic green corset I bought in San Francisco this summer. My outfit won’t be anything near authentically Renaissance-y, but what better chance to wear a corset in public?

I’ve bought the skirt fabric, but most of the construction will have to wait until after next Friday, when my final memo is due. MEMO MEMO MEMO. Pretty much all of my motivatable spare time between now and then will be spent memo-ing. MEMO.

Today You Look Nice Today released a Very Special episode with guest stars—I’m not even kidding, you guys—John Hodgman and Jonathan Coulton. Squeee! Those guys are two of my biggest heroes ever. EVER. I mean, throw in a little Tina Fey and Anderson Cooper, and I would eat that mix for breakfast every day of my life.

I think five people at once might be too many for this style of show, but whatever. I just finished listening, and I’m taking a quick break here before I queue it up again. I’m also drinking a bottle of Coke I opened last week (the flavor has improved, IMO), watching that bucket of wriggly puppies from yesterday, snuggling with my own precious pup, ringing in the holiday season with a “mulled cider” candle, and admiring the orange lilies John brought me last weekend. AND I’m wearing slippers. AND I just got back from taiko practice. BOO-YAH. Life is good.

Having a rough day? Need an injection of cheer into your stressful life? Try puppies!

Here’s a litter of six Shiba Inu puppies (I’ve never heard of a Shiba Inu, either; link via byrneunit) that someone has generously shared with the internets. They sleep a lot; usually five puppies are sleeping and the sixth is wriggling over/nuzzling/chewing on them.

I’ve been popping out the window and keeping it in the background for the last three days. The puppies aren’t active enough to keep ALL my attention, but it’s nice to peek at them from time to time in class or while I’m working. Keeps my mood up. Cuteness on demand!

If these fluffy, innocent little sweethearts don’t bring a smile to your face, I don’t know what will.

EDIT. An important tip I forgot to mention earlier: puppies are cuter with the sound off.

I went to bed at 10:00 last night and fell asleep within twenty minutes. I slept straight through the night, except for a brief bit of thunderstorming at 12:45. And yet somehow it still took me fifty minutes to get out of bed when my alarm went off at 7:00 this morning. Somebody explain this to me.

Every day that I have a 9:00 class (Contracts — MTTh), I walk into class between one and four minutes late. EVERY DAY. I think there was one day last week or the week before that I was a minute early, but otherwise I been just that weensy bit late every day since the middle of the semester. Frustration. If I could push my mornings back only FIVE MINUTES, I’d be on time every day. No matter when I wake up, it seems I manage to waste just enough time to get past that magic moment.

I sound angry today, but I’m not. Life’s little frustrations, you know.

Today was a sleepy day. It’s 9:40, I’ve just woken up from an evening nap, and I’m about to go to bed. Sam had a poop emergency at 5:00 this morning; John was the first to wake up and was wonderful enough to take him out, but I think I still lost some deep sleep on that one.

This morning I had a conference with my Writing professor about my memo. I thought signing myself up for one of the earlier conferences would motivate me to have a draft done by now, but I’m still going through the research. I had plenty of questions, but I feel like I kind of wasted a good opportunity.

We had another taiko performance yesterday afternoon, this time at the new Discovery Green park downtown. Real quick, just twenty minutes . . . part of some arts showcase, I think.

Yup, that’s the news from today. I didn’t promise quality, remember.

No post yesterday. I forgot. We went to the opera last night, got back pretty late, and went straight to bed. I remembered as I was lying in bed, but by then it was after midnight. Oh well.

But next year! I have a plan for next year already. I hope I still remember it then.

I’m going to keep posting for the rest of November. It’s still a useful exercise…in tedium? Something. I’m sure you’re all thrilled.

Almost forgot about the ol’ ‘PoMo today, but here I am! Twenty minutes left in the day.

Today I took Grethe in for her 5000-mile checkup. There’s a knob on my dashboard for some special A/C vent that’s been stuck closed ever since I got the car, so I asked the service folks to look at it. A couple hours later the guy called me back and tried to get me to pay fifty bucks for them to take the console apart and look at it. It wasn’t under warranty, he said, because that bit had been taken off and painted.

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When I asked it how to sew godets*, Google pointed me to this article on skirt fitting from 1942, which contains the following charming paragraph.

These proportions would vary in patterns used for larger size garments. Manufacturers of specially sized “stouts” use special slopers which provide for abnormal deposits of flesh and imperfect posture. It is interesting to know that most irregular size, stout women would not have abnormal flesh distribution if good posture had been maintained!

Ha! Imagine if today’s “plus size” section were named “irregular size, stout women with abnormal flesh distribution.”

I wonder whether “abnormal deposits of flesh” was actually considered a euphemism in 1942 (like “love handles” is today) or whether our grandparents just enjoyed frank discussions of body types.

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* to which I was introduced by this video

Did California seriously just vote yes on Prop. 8? Seriously? I thought you were better than that, Cali.

Yesterday at lunch I learned how to dress for the gauntlet of interviews I’ll run in January. Women MUST wear skirt suits—apparently that’s rule in appellate court or something, so it’s the rule in interviews. All the women’s suits in the mini fashion show were black, but I didn’t think until later to ask if they absolutely had to be. I don’t think black (or white) suits my coloring much, but maybe that’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make.

Shirts have to be white, or at least a conservative solid color. We must wear skin-toned pantyhose and closed-toed shoes. No slingbacks. No flashy jewelry or makeup. Hair neatly pulled back. Clear nail polish.

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West Coast polls have just closed, and the media outlets have now allowed themselves to call the election for Obama.

Will my grandkids be disappointed that I don’t have a lot to say right now? Grandma cried a little bit, kids, but then she cries at TV commercials. Heck, she’s crying extra watching John McCain’s concession speech, partly because it’s a great speech and partly because he himself looks, if not quite about to cry, at least brimming with emotion.

Beyond that I’m not much for political commentary, so I think I’ll just watch the tremendous crowds in Chicago, wait for Obama’s speech, and revel in the historic-ness of the moment.