I’ve come to that time of the evening when I paint “NERD” across my forehead, put on my jammies, turn on “Whose Line Is It, Anyway?” and get into bed with my laptop. (All of the aforementioned really happens except the forehead painting part….)

Julia and I often chat on AIM and watch “Whose Line” together (well, as together as you can from several states apart) at this time of night, and I kind of wind down from the day, and all is grand.

Tonight I’m feeling a little jittery. First of all, Waldo is still at large, and as my bathroom is connected to my bedroom and I can no longer find him in the bathroom, I’m just a tiny bit worried that he may kill me in my sleep. In addition, the Monkey is having a rare difficult night and has already been up to tell me he’s “wone-wy” at least four times (I get the good mommy award for not once snapping back “Yeah, I’m lonely too, but I’m not bothering you when I should be sleeping!”). It’s hard to relax under the certain knowledge that you won’t know when, but at some point in the night a flailing bedhog will be upon you. (But on the plus side, he might scare Waldo away.) And last, tomorrow is likely to be a Very Sucky Day and the only thing I’m even better at than wallowing is anticipating a good wallow.

Anyway. What’s a girl to do with all this on her mind? Read weird crap on the web, of course. I’m still trying to wrap my head around this article about a prison in Indiana which is instituting a dress code for visitors. Among the various edicts listed in the article is this gem: “underwear is required to remain invisible.”

I’ve long suspected that I lack many of the feminine wiles of my sexier counterparts. Now I’m really stunned. There’s a way to make underwear invisible?? There are hours, nay, days of my life, cumulatively, that I’ve spent shopping for undergarments that won’t leave panty lines. If any readers know the Underwear Invisibility Incantation, please enlighten me. (Thank goodness there’s no one in prison I need to visit. Yet.)