Dear Danskin,

Why U put such big ugly tags on the OUTSIDE of your dance skirts? ARGH.

PS: I do love this, though: When you tear open a garment and find a little memento of it's construction frozen in time, like this chalk mark at the CB waistline. Makes me feel a little closer to the other hands that have worked on it:

I Obviously Have An Opinion About Running

I bought running shoes. RUNNING shoes. UGH. No, no, before you ask I will not be running in them. Ever. Under any circumstances that don't involve being chased by a zombie.
Uck.
But, I keep reading about how you need really supportive shoes to correct for shin splints. And at this point, after the completely wretched week I have had, I will try anything.
But I hate them. There is no such thing as an attractive running shoe. Or a quick-to-put-on running shoe. Or a running shoe that doesn't make your feet look like they're the size of a tractor.
Sigh...

All of the shin splint information out there seems to assume that you have acquired them through running and attendant sports. Marathon... stuff. Whatever. Bleh. So, I have been reading a whole lot more about running than I ever wanted to. All the things I have learned! For instance: apparently people are in to running now. As a ... sport? Kind of thing? Not just jogging around the block in the morning for your cardio workout, but... actually running. For "fun".
Also, did you know that running skirts are a thing? An actual thing that actually exists? You can buy them at Target, even. Why, there are even people who run in tutus. For reals, guys. I just don't even know.

Skirts, Wrists, Boredom Setting In...

Apologies in advance if you get a ton of random and pointless posts for a while. This sprained wrist is driving me totally insane. I can't drive (motorcycle or car). Can't work particularly well (I have just spent three days pushing my hand to the very limit of it's ability, and I managed to finish one tiny little top with no closures or handwork. This SUCKS). Can't wash dishes (my male doctors may laugh it off when I say it, but for reals, guys. If I don't do the dishes they just won't get done. I think my husband has washed a plate and a couple of forks in the past two weeks). Can't read actual books because I can't hold them, even using my little clamp device (totally for old people, but it has saved my life). And having to do everything with my right hand has basically made the arthritis-y business on that side go crazy, so it hurts almost as bad as the sprained one!
ARGH!

And now for something completely different...
So. I have always been pretty resistant to the wrap-skirt-in-dance-class thing. I am not sure why, exactly, it just never rang my bells. About a year ago I made myself some little georgette tap pants to wear to class when I was feeling particularly in need of a little cover-up. But my big fat booty-boo has expanded so much recently that I no longer fit the silly things! I'm sure it's the Zoloft that is making me gain this weight, but if my choices are extra-booty-fat-but-hey-I-can make-it-through-most-days-without-crying or my-butt-is-still-pretty-big-and-I-want-to-beat-my-face-against-a-wall-all-night then I will take the Zolft, thanks. Anyway. So I figured something new (and more adjustable) was in order. A few weeks ago I ended up with a small stretch of black chiffon left over from another project (more on that later) and decided to piece it in to a wrap skirt and give skirt-wearing a shot.
This is how it turned out (or at least how it looks while I am improperly dressed and standing crookedly in front of my bathroom door with no lights on:

(As an aside, I saw this picture and had to do a little double take. 

Ballet has, apparently, given me some actual muscular definition, there. 

Hey! That is pretty cool.)

 Which isn't bad considering I was just winging it and my piece of fabric was way too freaking small and oddly shaped to use as-is. Honestly, it's okay. But if I tie it so it stays put I have to cinch it in super tight and then I can't port de corps forward all the way, and if I tie it loose enough to let me bend at the waist then it goes all flubbaly and bothers me to bits. I don't know. It's an experiment, I guess.