Fiddle-Dee-Dee, Said Scarlett

The only thing I don't like about historical clothing is trying to use the bathroom in them.

No, seriously. How did they do it? It's cold, and since we're going to the Dicken's of a Christmas later, I'm wearing my Victorian Christmas outfit. Complete with pantaloons and petticoats - of the plain undergarment variety, not the frilly variety. My skirt is huge. My pettis are huge. The pantaloons are...comfy and warm, but they lace and tie closed.

I can barely even maneuver in my own bathroom. Trying to gather everything up and undo the pantaloons? An exercise in epic contortion! It takes me a good five minutes at best. I end up holding my skirts and whatnot on my lap, and I can barely even see over them.

I need to get used to this. I've finally decided to say 'fuck what people think' completely, and intend to wear period style clothing essentially every day. I have a Regency gown nearly done for Christmas, and I adore the Victorian style, and with getting better at sewing and so many reproduction places around here, I can. And I want to. So I will. Underthings and all.

You know, it's a good thing I don't date or have sex. My girlfriend would kill me, simply for making it so damn impossible to actually get to any remotely fun bits. Historical underthings: the anti-sex!

Apparently, without my knowledge or any effort on my part whatsoever, I became a mother last month.

I never would have known if my Health Insurance hadn't just sent me my updated information, a new bill, and new insurance cards for me and my one month old son. Along with a little congratulations card.

This isn't the first time my insurance has screwed up - not by a long shot. But it's the first time the screw up has been quite so hilarious. I got the whole mess straightened out quickly - it was a minor error in ID numbers - but I'm still laughing.

There's nothing quite like seeing 'Baby Boy My Last Name' and the little card with 'congratulations on your new baby!' on the inside. Apparently the little bugger doesn't even have a name yet. I ought to get around to doing that.

Suggestions, anyone? I was thinking Hohenheim.

(No, this joke isn't going to die for a while.)