Going MIA is totally the way to create a sexy aura of mystery about you.

First off, I have to say that I have no idea how I missed this [okay, that's a lie, I live under a rock and never have much of a clue what's going on outside of my head], but on August 24th, the FDA approved Plan B as an OTC drug for women over the age of 18. From what I've been able to tell it won't be available until later on this year or in the beginning of 2007, but this is such excellent news. This approval makes me feel a little more secure in regards to aspects of the future as it pertains to women in this country. How nice to hear about things that allow women to continue to have control over their bodies, as opposed to legislation working to do just the opposite! As I see it, this is such a positive step.

FDA Press Release - FDA Approves Over-the-Counter Access for Plan B for Women 18 and Older


Moving on, today was just a really, really great day. After being sick and feeling fairly crappy for the past week [fridge died and I swear I ate something that'd gone bad in it, who knows], I was back in class and feeling good today. Ballet and pointe went wonderfully and I just felt well all around. Had a doctor's appointment to establish myself with a primary care group here and had an excellent experience with the folks I met there. West Penn Medical Associates, everyone. DO IT. [Haha. Honestly though, if you're in the P.burgh and need a doctor, I highly recommend it.]

In addition to all that, I came across a flyer on the PBTS bulletin board today after class...ballet teacher needed for advanced level @ Pitt. adjf;iewarjfajfesjrlwedre!!!! [Something along the lines of that came into my head.] I've been looking around a little bit for a potential teaching job in the 'burgh but I hadn't come across anything. AND HERE was my ideal teaching situation- advanced dancers, college level, yadda yadda. Communicated with the girl in charge and it looks like I've got the job. I'll obviously do a trial class and see how I work with her and the girls[/guys?] in class, but if all goes well I'll have a weekly hour and a half ballet class all to myself to teach! For a whole year! And they'd pay me! SQUEEEEE! Hearing back from the girl just was another excellent addition to my day. I am really effing excited.

Matt was here for the weekend, which of course was wonderful. Deirdre and I have been hanging out a lot because we're hella awesome like that. And I'm just so happy to be feeling well and all that good stuff.


And some photographic ridiculousness so as not to disappoint my dear fans. *cough*

Me rocking out. [Clearly.]


Oh yeah I also got a new Wilco sticker so now both of my Nalgenes have Wilco stickers on them. Which makes me deliriously happy.


And me being highly excited about eating some tasty, still-warm, lightly toasted whole wheat pita. [Booyah.]



Now to pass the hell out because I'm ridiculously tired for only dancing part of the day today.

I am so glad I invested in a bathrobe.

About a week ago I very intelligently locked myself out of my apartment. There I was, nice and cozy in bed, very much asleep, when I heard my door'bell' BUZZZZ and bam, I was up, stumbling around, running into stuff. My poorly-formed, non-caffeinated thoughts went immediately to UPS and the fact that I've had NO luck in connecting with them so somewhere in my still-asleep brain I thought that maybe this was the UPS guy at 8am.

I run downstairs, blinking oddly [I'd fallen asleep with my contacts in], saw there was noone at the door, ran out onto the porch, and waved at a man getting back into his truck. Apparently it was some guy from the gas company looking to get into the basement, and since the 1st-floor neighbors weren't home, he decided to just go ahead and ring everyone else's buzzers. Because, y'know, that made perfect sense.

I then ended up apologizing to him, for not having magic basement access and for -I kid you not- my "haggard appearance." wtf? Who, besides the guy in the first 5 minutes of the animated Beauty and the Beast uses the phrase "haggard appearance"?

So I got back up to my door and yes, it's locked.

Upside to all of this is that I met my neighbors on my floor. They're pretty cool too, thank god. I used the girl's cell phone to call our landlady in-between crawling out her window onto the fire escape in an attempt to get into my apartment. Yes, there I was, on our fire escape in a nightdress and a bathrobe. I e-mailed Matt a 'GAH HELP I LOCKED MYSELF OUT OF MY APARTMENT' e-mail and then sat down on the couch with the aforementioned neighbor and harassed her furry cat while watching The Price is Right and Saved By the Bell. [Somehow the SBTB episode was one I'd seen before...and recalled disgustingly well...god help me]

Matt e-mails me back something along the lines of 'dummy, use a credit card or a butterknife to get back into your apartment.' Neighbor digs up an old credit card, I fiddle around with my door a minute, and VOILA! UNLOCKED! I jumped up and down and hugged her and was too busy doing a Yay I'm Back In My Apartment happydance to feel like too much of an idiot.


And then TODAY, I awoke at 2:30pm [yeah shut up, I don't know how I slept that late] to someone knocking on my door. Again, stumble around, run into crap, throw on bathrobe. I open the door and it's a dorky-looking man with long curly red hair and thick-rimmed rectangular glasses and workboots. [The plumber.] He apologizes for waking me up, and I don't feel like too much of an idiot until I turn my phone on and realize it's, yes, 2:30pm. While he's back outside grabbing stuff from his truck I throw on a shirt and sweatpants and go about making coffee. omgwtfbbq.


If I could offer one piece of advice to anyone and everyone, own a bathrobe. A nice one is a plus, because if you're anything like me a number of people will unexpectedly have the chance to see you in it, and you sure as hell don't want to look like a complete ragamuffin.


The Comcast guys will be here again tomorrow, and I vow that I will be wearing something other than a bathrobe when they show up.

oh. em. eff. gee.

So last night the cats discovered how to pry open the under the sink cabinet door in the kitchen and knocked over the garbage can, chewed holes in the box of swiffer cloths, ate who knows what out of the garbage, took eggshells and chewed them up and batted eggshelly bits all over the apartment, and finally one of them decided to just crap on the floor in the bathroom.

OH MY GOD I HAVE FURRY LITTLE ILL-BEHAVED NOCTURNAL TODDLERS. WITH LARGE TALONS.

I of course had no idea for the first minutes as I was waking up so I spent that part of my morning rubbing Magellan's belly and cooing to Quigley about how cute he was. Damnit.

I'd lock them in the bathroom while I clean up this whole mess except they'd probably figure a way to open the medicine cabinet and take a crap on my toothbrush.

MEANINGFUL POST. [aka. Death To Pointe Shoe Ribbons.]

And by "meaningful" I mean "not introductory blah-blah."

After much procrastinating and far too much sewing, I now have large hunks of elastic sewn into my ribbons and amazingly it seems to be a success. Here is a picture montage with the brightness turned up so that the photos are reminsicent of those oldskool cheesy ballet calendars. [We're also ignoring the fact that until I get a real camera I have 3.1 megapixel 1.3 megapixel** cellphone photos with poor lighting.]

NO BUCKLING OF THE RIBBONS LIEK WHOA.


It's amazing, I'm wearing ribbons and I can actually demi-pointe. Crazytalk.


Because I had to take these pictures tilted over and half upside-down, the angle makes it look like I have cankles. Which I do not, please take note. [Not that there's anything, er, wrong with cankles.]


Quigley approves of the development.



----

Yesterday, in a burst of creative energy, I made a ballet skirt. It's a bit wonky because I don't tend to believe in measuring things.


If I get around to actually taking anything resembling measurements, I'm going to attempt to sell some snazzy skirtage. The girls @ PBTS are skirt CRAZY.



Recent polls* show that the garment looks arguably just as stunning when worn as a babushka.




*no such polls actually exist, recent or otherwise.
**thanks to Mattymoo for correcting my lysdexic mistake.

Aw geez, where to start?

I'VE DONE IT. I have a tasty blog that I will share with the world and I will thusly entertain the masses. [In theory.]

Also, as much of a fan as I may be of general awkwardness, awkward introductions are not a favorite of mine so I'm going to stop this obligatory first post right here.