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Some people are a symphony in color.

I am a discordant jug-and-tin-whistle band (played by enthusiastic 5-year-olds without much training) in blue and green. Hunter green swirl skirt. Invisibly grass-green shorts. Powder blue long-sleeve company shirt under (thankfully black) short-sleeved light sweater.

The ordering of the company shirts for the staff photo today did not take into account anything like the actual sizing of the staff. I'm sure that tiny staff got huge shirts. Large staff ... well, this shirt I am wearing right now is a size large. It technically fits onto my body and covers all necessary parts.

I just look like a (very) plump Hooters girl.

There is obnoxiously brilliant green glitter in my hair. I'm not going down without a fight.

(I have to take the sweater off for the photo. After the photo, the sweater goes back on, I disappear in the bathroom, and then the damned company shirt comes OFF.)
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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