Event Horizon

And just like that, my world changes.

This past week has been a whirlwind of phone calls, stress, coughing, and knitting.

Nate had two phone interviews, both with the same company. The job is perfect for him and he's very excited about the possibility of getting it. He's amazing at what he does and they'd be lucky to have him. And stupid not to hire him. Very, very stupid.

My boss and friend from my previous job called and asked me if I'd be interested in resuming my position in Athens. I called her back the next day and accepted. (Insert big fucking WOOT right here. Ahem. YAY!) We. Are. Moving.

The lovely Stacy called on Thursday (in tears, oy) to say she had taken two pregnancy tests. Both are positive. She then demanded that I get pregnant immediately so she doesn't have to do it alone. Um...I can think of a few reasons to have kids (not the least of which is to have someone to brainwash into helping me take over the world, but I digress), but that one is NOT on the list. Though we did agree to be obnoxious moms together, so maybe I'll catch her next time. But being the Supergirl of Doom means my kids will have super powers also. Do I really want to unleash that sort of hell onto the planet? I must think of mankind.

So, I'm doing all sorts of job mojo dances in my occassional bouts of wellness. I usually stop when the asthma kicks in. Turns out "Melanie, Supergirl of Doom" has mortal weaknesses. Damn it. The coughing, the asthma, the allergies. They. Must. Stop. (Kryptonite anyone?) Seriously, couldn't I have something a little less life threatening? Not breathing is hazardous to my health and junk. Could I have leprosy instead? Amoebic dysentery? Bird Flu? I could survive bird flu. Work with me here universe, I have some world conquering to do.

Oh, and that pesky mole?



Hello! I am (was) a mole!

Had it removed this afternoon. Not by choice. There were needles and scalpels involved. I most definitely panicked. I plead in the mole's defense, even. "Please," I cried, "it's kinda easy on the eyes! Can't we consider the cuteness factor of the offending mole? It doesn't mean to offend, I'm sure of it!" All to no avail. Now that the local anesthetic is wearing off, I say "ow".

Of course I had to have a picture of it, seeing as how it now sits in a little petrie dish somewhere and is soon to be poked and prodded and abused in ways a cute little mole should not ever be abused. Especially one that used to live on my body.

Also, Prairie Tunic is finished. Pictures later.