Ah, thank you for explaining. I'm very sorry for her losses.

MY BODY IS READY.

I have to ask this, and I'm asking without judgment, but because I literally cannot think of a single reason to have not one but two children when one bears a mitochondrial defect... unless she didn't know? Twice? I just don't understand.

You can adjust just how yellow you want it to be— I don't like it too yellow either, so I just move the slider down until it's comfortably not-white, sort of an ivory shade, about 1/3 down the scale. And I set it to long fade, which takes an hour, to make the transition— you don't even know it's happening.

This has upset me and I will never be able to enjoy Mr. Bates' brooding intensity ever again. :(

I can't seem to get over it, either. I couldn't even finish watching that night at the museum movie because I kept crying.

It was pastina in our house— pastina and ginger ale, no matter what. Common cold? Pastina and ginger ale. Broken arm? Pastina and ginger ale. Cancer? Pastina and ginger ale. (no, really— the day my brother was diagnosed with cancer, we came home from the hospital to find my grandmother had been cooking enough pastina…

That's the way to do it!

Me too! Red-wearing brides, unite!

I get, "Is that the look you were going for?"

It's easier to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. Don't tell your mother jack-shit about any of the details (or lie outright) and get what you like. If you tell her your colors are pea-green and maroon, even if she hates your actual colors, she'll be ecstatic that it's not the alternative; same with the…

Nope, me neither!

He looks like one of the Hobbit actors. Or an actual Hobbit.

Pandora's Reggae station. All day, every day.

Edit: I suck at counting. FOUR of these beautiful women, if Jia is in fact Asian (she looks like a Filipina I know, so I'm guessing). Even if she's not, my comment stands.

Come with me, and be my love, because referring to the new testament as an expansion pack has won you my heart 4-EVA. [gazes at you starry-eyed, besotted]

My BFF is sporting this exact same look right now, except that she's 45 and has no excuse besides being insanely impatient.

God, I hope not; with all the crying I've done (I'm a cryer), I'd have a passel to rival the Duggars. /shiver

Polyester sheets are Of The Devil.

You're the one who's going for a stroll with a few straw men. Reread your prior post, which accused me of all sorts of repulsive things, none of which I have ever engaged it, in a breathtaking amount of assumption about my life and work history.