Bataan Death March of Sewing report

or, How I Spent My Weekend, What Am I, Some Kind Of Retard?

( The Job: make an outfit in 18 hours )

Final product: our little princess, Angelina. (warning: colors are bad due to crappy disposable camera.)

We, of course, saw a grand and brilliant project carried out in our usual haphazard half-assed fashion. However, that's not what the judges nor the populace saw. They saw a SOOOO CUUUUUTE! (and she is...that girl knows how to work a crowd, I'm here to tell you) three-year-old in a velvet and gold and pearled glitzy dress. We didn't win the competition--nor did we deserve to; Daria's bottega made one of their usual perfect 15th c. Italian outfits, with a BRICK of documentation to go with it--but we did win the popular vote award. Go Us.

( A few musings. )

We staggered home in a daze; I woke up around noon Sunday feeling like hammered shit, which feeling only got worse during the day, til I was down with a mild fever, sore throat, and fairly debilitating exhaustion, which continued into Monday. And when I say exhaustion, I mean I was too tired to sit at the computer. Goddammit, if I have to blow a sick day, I at least want to get some CoH out of it.

A definition of "upgrade" with which I was previously unfamiliar

User: Hi, I'd like to upgrade our service from Cheap Web to Corporate Web
Me; OK, what's your domain name?
User: foo.com
[look up foo.com in our service records]
Me: Hm. You don't seem to have service with us on that domain.
User: How can you tell? I haven't told you who I am yet!
Me: *boggle* ...Because you told me the domain, and I looked it up, and it isn't hosted here and never has been.
User: Well of course not! I want to add it to our account.