Went through my wardrobe this weekend, culling the stuff I don't wear. I'll take some of it to a clothes swap, after which I'll take the rest to a charity shop. I've been meaning to do this since - well, since I last moved house. I can be quite ruthless when doing clearouts, but I was a bit soft-hearted yesterday and still got rid of a ton of stuff. Clearly it was about time. I might have to have a phase 2.

As well as the old and decrepit and the looked-better-on-the-hangar, I'm letting go of all those if-I-just-drop-a-couple-of-dress-sizes clothes. Well, except for one - I let myself keep one: a blue flower print dress, embroidered with unicorns and lightning bolts and skull & crossbones and pills and stars and locks and rainbows... I had to keep that one. And when I drop a couple of dress sizes, and my magnificent but rather cumbersome bosom no longer forces the buttons down the front to gape, I will wear the hell out of it! :)

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I decided against reading the rest of the Twilight saga. Instead, I've read the SparkLife Blogging Twilight, which is just hilarious. A sample:

EDWARD: Bella, you need to get some rest. Brush your teeth and moisturize your skin. And don't forget to floss.
BELLA: OK.
JACOB: Why do you tell Bella what to do all the time?
EDWARD: Because if I don't, she'll die.
JACOB: You're not giving her a chance.
EDWARD: Fine. You think she can survive on her own? Check this out. [To Bella] Lamb, Jake and I are going to step outside of the tent for a minute. You'll be fine on your own, right?
BELLA: Yeppers!

[Jacob and Edward leave for one minute and then return to find Bella covered in blood and missing a foot]

EDWARD: What happened?
BELLA: Well, I wasn't sure if I should cut off my own foot or not. And Eddie wasn't around to tell me to stop. So…
JACOB: But…but…but…
BELLA: It's all good. My foot doesn't hurt. Just the part where my foot connected to my leg hurts. So I don't think I need to see a doctor.
JACOB: But…but…but…
BELLA: And I brushed the wound with toothpaste because the bone looked like a tooth to me. Then I used your cellphone to wire all my money to some needy man named SpAMFILE.
JACOB: But…I…
BELLA: I may have also become addicted to opiates. Not really sure yet.
JACOB: We were only gone for a minute!
BELLA: Wait. Hold on. Um…yep. I'm addicted to opiates. Weird, right?
EDWARD: [Turns to Jacob] Now do you understand?
JACOB: I…but…
BELLA: Do you have any opiates? Or foot glue?

Next, I'll read Cleolinda's posts. Hoorah!

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ETA: Hey. Has Sam / anyone invented a remote dialling device, like they have on the ships, only one they can port around with them? So, like, when they need to report back to the SGC, instead of schlepping back to the SGC, they can just dial in the co-ordinates on a nifty armpiece, and tell Gen. Hammond they're okay and need another couple of hours to look at some important ruins? Because, were I in charge of SG-1, that would be my first order. "Make something that means we don't have to keep walking back and forth from the Gate or rely on the SGC dialling in. My feet hurt." Of course, I am quite lazy, plus sometimes I wear impractical shoes (but only if they REALLY go with my outfit), so.

I can't remember if that exists outside of the ships. Am I being really forgetful? If not, Sam should get right on it - after the hoverbikes.