I Do Not Heart Fasting, and A Contest

That sucked. I hate fasting. Really. It gets you at both ends, literally and figuratively. By the time we had dinner, my mouth was so dry my tongue was stuck to my front teeth. Ew. And I was dizzy, and cranky. Actually, I was way beyond cranky. Let's just say that the young teenaged kids selling...oh, I don't even know what they were selling, because I didn't let them get that far in the spiel...won't be coming back to my house any time soon. If the "oh, you are so barking up the wrong tree today, kids," didn't do it, the shouted-at-their-retreating-backs, "come back some time when I'm actually able to eat!" likely freaked them out for good. It wasn't so much the ferocity--though I was mighty ferocious--as the fact that we're probably the only Jews in the entire neighborhood, so these kids undoubtedly had no idea whatsoever why I was behaving like a complete lunatic.

And then, when I did eat...OW! Apparently, you can't go for 20 hours without food and then grab large handfulls of grapes, shovel herring into your mouth, and then rapidly down two bowls of matzoh ball soup without paying the price. My price? Gas pains that were so intense I was hobbling around the house, unable to straighten up. Woohoo! Fun at the Coconuts' home! (On the other hand...yum. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. My matzoh ball soup? Best in the frickin' world.)

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I need some sig lines. It has been brought to my attention (and that's the nice way of putting it) that the sig line I've been using on my non-TC-related email (i.e., the one with my real name associated with it) is getting old. Hmph. OK, yeah, I've had it for at least five years, but it's a good one! (It was sent to me by a science-writer friend of mine, and says: It might look like I'm doing nothing, but at the cellular level I'm really quite busy.)

So while I'm somewhat reluctant to change it--partly because I still love it, and partly because I hate to give my brother-in-law the complainer the satisfaction of actually responding to his comments about it (TC, thy name is Passive Aggression)--I do realize that I need to at least consider it, and at the very least to come up with something to put on my TC-related mail as well. Which leads me to: A Contest. Send me a great quote (with attribution) or some other perfect-for-my-sig-line suggestion, and if I decide to use it, I'll send you...um...something or other. You name it, and I'll definitely consider it.

One, two, three...go. You have...let's see, what completely arbitrary deadline shall I set?...until Wednesday at noon, PST. Have fun. Be creative. Send something! (Because won't I be embarrassed when I get absolutely no responses to this post?)