"all that a woman of forty-three need do to become invisible is to go without makeup, leave her hair uncolored, and wear ordinary clothes" -from an article in the New Yorker about Daphne Guinness.
At the Burger King at the bus station in Prague, you can get 10 Kc off your meal if you first have a ticket from the bathroom proving that you paid 10 Kc to use it. The rule used to be that BK would give you a ticket that you could take to the bathroom, and get in for free, but now it's reversed. No signs anywhere to explain this to you of course, which resulted in the BK employee getting all mad at me, and me reminding him that it wasn't my rule, etc. It was necessary to ring up each order separately in order to get the full available discount (10% of the total, so it seems worth fighting for). I have nothing more to say on that except obviously one should never use public bathrooms or eat in restaurant chains and then be surprised to need to argue other concepts of "fairness" with anybody.
On Facebook this week, Squire was inadvertently signed up for a group of "Let's show the atheists how much better it is to be Christian!" Uhm. Also a friend of mine posted a "One nation UNDER GOD; Love it or leave it!" thing. And another person went on a rant against feminists. What this proves is that Facebook is the devil. No, but I should probably not take things so seriously. Still, it is hard to look at people the same way when they are so clearly putting a blanket of hatred over me, even if they didn't know I was standing there. Not that I can't hate with the best of them, but my hatreds tend to be either specific individuals or are targeted at some behavior. I don't know, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't it feel like --and isn't it meant to feel like-- a punch in the stomach when somebody hates a group you belong to? And so why are people stomach punching? What does that get done?
You know how when you dream of home it's often the same house, and it's not the one where you actually live? For years I have lived in the stairwell of a large apartment building, but lately I have also been inhabiting a small room hidden under the floorboards in a house downtown. It is a very nice room, kind of nest-like in its coziness.
What else? It's fall. My parents came to visit for a few days and we managed to not see a whole bunch of things. We did drink a fair bit of booze, though. And I tracked down the cabbage they wanted. So: mission accomplished. I got a box of chocolates with a pretty orange ribbon around them.