underwear extremities

I just confirmed that the onliest bra that ever works on my body -- fits and doesn't make me scream after half an hour of wear and doesn't wear out in three minutes -- has indeed been discontinued by Vanity Fair. I've been wearing that bra for twenty years, maybe twenty-five. It's not that I refuse to wear another bra on principle -- I try them on sometimes -- but I'm not willing to be uncomfortable around my tender mammaries, okay? Not to mention armpits, back and shoulders.

I found a place that was selling them for $13 (they used to be more than twice that except I only ever bought them on sale). I ordered a dozen. Yep. A dozen. I might change size, but not enough to make a difference (experience shows)

For the record, they are the Vanity Fair Cotton Lace Piquant, out of which I studiously cut the underwires and then they are as comfortable as a comfortable thing.

On other fronts:

"Rubaiyyat of Omar Camacho" to Iris Print.

The rewritten "Tasmanian Flower Basket" to Fantasy Magazine.

My new submission tracker is set up: now I must spend way too much time reconstructing the information that was garbled away from the old one. Which is why I mention submissions here, by the way, it is a failsafe in case I lose the information elsewhere.

Zoom.