When was your birthday?

My father fell out of a tree last week. Don't let your age stop you from trying improbable things.

Except, well, he fell. I didn't check to see the last time he'd achieved tree safely, but bully for him at 70 DOING STUPID PHYSICAL THINGS.

The tree doesn't fall far from the apple, does it?

I have a question of standards. I have a linen pants suit that I'm planning on wearing to work tomorrow. I've worn it once since it came from the cleaners, so it's wrinkled, as linen does. I could iron it tonight, but I'm pretty sure it will be exactly as wrinkled as it is now by the time I get to work in the morning, no matter what. I mean, right?

Am I just making lazy excuses?

Yes, dear.

I would also wear the suit, which is probably the pertinent answer. Maybe hang it in the bathroom when you shower for the steamy.

Yeah, my usual anti-iron tricks don't work for linen. And it just occured to me that I can iron in the newly air-conditioned bedroom, so I guess I'll give it a shot.

I hate two-suit weeks at work.

Apparently he's sworn off climbing trees. And then there's my mother and her exercise bike issue--my god, they're both insane.

I am wearing the coolest krav top. It's so cool that even though I should be off doing laundry I'm here talking about it instead. It's both racerback and halter (ooh! more vibrating!) with two sets of straps going over the shoulders. And it's long--plenty long enough to cover the top of low rise jeans.

WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP GANKING MY TIME??? Okay, not my time exactly. But I have this one friend that's really popular, and I can't spend time alone with him, it seems, since other people continually invite themselves along when we do stuff.

Okay, laundry and Best Buy.

A couple of years ago I called my mom just to chat. In the course of the conversation, she mentioned that my dad had purchased a chainsaw and was going to be climbing the palm tree in the yard and trimming it. I was like, "ARE YOU CRAZY??? I hope Dad isn't too fond of his arm/leg/etc." She hadn't given it a second's thought but she did agree when I said I pictured him doing that like he paints in the house - with a Bud in one hand and the saw in the other.

That was indeed some tennis. And I also watched it on time delay and can I say that I am one lucky girl? I was leaving the house around 10ish and set to tape for six hours starting at ten (the final started after 8 am my time) and I did that but I forgot to change the tape speed from sp to slp so it only taped 2 hours - - my tape ended just after the final ended.

Whew. And now nobody can say that Federer can't play a five-setter. And could you have a more perfectly matched pair of opponents than Federer and Nadal?

I don't think so. Now to go find out what happened in Mixed Doubles.

Bostonistas:

The local rag reports there are no good vegan restaurants in Boston. (The main human character in the comic Get Fuzzy wears a shirt featuring a vegetarian cafe in Olympia. The cartoonist claims this was at the request of a friend who complained that Boston has no decent vegan eateries.) This just strikes me as really unlikely. We are talking a major city... So is this just ignorance on the part the cartoonist? (My ignorance is more pardonable as I live thousands of miles from Boston.) Or does Boston actually lack restaurants that cater to vegans?

So, good news and bad news. I gave the suit a fairly half-assed ironing. Maybe three-quarters-assed. Anyway, I remembered that there was a seam that needed repairing, so I did that, which is good, but then there was some kind of stain on them! WTF? So I dabbed it with water, and am now hoping that doesn't do more harm than good.

I used to not like Nadal. Watching him today--okay, I don't love him, but I can't not like him. That was some excellent quality tennis all round.

White spice pound cake is glazed.

My stomach still hates me, so although I passed Cheetos in the supermarket, I dared not make eye contact. I'm trying to bribe it with wholesome (and not junk) food, but it's not feeling (or giving) the love.

On the upside, I'm self-medicating by impulse purchasing technology. It's something.

DH learned to iron by googling "learn how to iron" a long time ago. The best instructions he found were on a transgender website. He's much, much better at ironing than I am.

I usually just go wrinkled.

Jesse, water won't usually ruin linen. True linen can be machine-washed, but the ironing is usually a bitch.

I have to go back to napping now.