West Hollywood? Heyoooh?

I love college.  I love Textiles.  I love Sociology.  There is a trip to New York City for a Fashion Convention and another in Las Vegas, called Magic.  I can NOT afford all of these!  However, the Gods smiled down, and there IS a road trip to LA in March.  THAT, is swingable.  So, LA, here I come with my crew of 15 women and 4 gay guys.  Yes, I am sorry, but I swear that there are NO straight men in Fashion.  Or at least in my cramped class of Design and Merchandising students. 

I don't know why, probably my demenor, however the Professors on first sight are asking what year in Design I'm in. Really. Do I look like a Designer or are they trying to put it nicely that I dress like a weirdo?  Merchandising baby! Merchandising, merchandising, merchandising. May the Schwartz be wit chu!....

A joke, since I'm all hyped up on Caramel Coffee and I have to hide from my boss to read my sociology book.

PS. Borderlands. Siren. Easiest character EVER!

THE MIRACLE OF TOILET PAPER 
 
 Fresh from my shower, I stand in front of the mirror complaining to my 
 husband that my breasts are too small. Instead of characteristically 
 telling me it's not so, he uncharacteristically comes up with a  suggestion. 

 'If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of  toilet 
 paper and rub it between them for a few seconds.' Willing to try 
 anything, I fetch a piece of toilet paper and stand in front of the 
 mirror, rubbing it between my breasts. 'How long will this take?' I  asked. 
 
 They will grow larger over a period of years,' my husband replies. I 
 stopped. 'Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my 
 breasts every day will make my breasts larger over the years?' Without 
 missing a beat he says, 'Worked for your butt, didn't it?' 
 
 He's still alive, and with a great deal of therapy, he may even walk 
 again, although he will probably continue to take his meals through a  straw. 
 Stupid, stupid man.