The "D" standing for "DAR," of course.
In precisely 57 minutes, I have an appointment with my local DAR chapter's registrar. Right now the priority is a shower, something suitable to wear, and making a decision about what to order at Starbucks when I meet her there. I'm thinking definitely hot chocolate (even though it's death in a cup) and possibly a piece of buttermilk coffee cake (ditto).
Cute Bri had it in his head that the meeting today would be interview-ish. How they would interview someone about joining DAR, I don't know. "Are you sure you have a patriot ancestor? Are you sure? ARE YOU SURE?" I told him, it says right on their website that any woman who is 18 or older and can prove her lineage to a patriot ancestor can join DAR, so even if it's Trailer Trash Trixie with eight missing teeth, an off-center pony tail, Daisy Dukes and 75 illegitimate kids... she's still in like Flynn.
Although... the fact that this is a genealogical society might put someone like TTT off. This is more or less a geeky endeavor - an OLD LADY endeavor, even. So not only will I fit right in, being a geeky old lady of almost 38, but I imagine people like Trixie would run screaming the other way from the idea of demurely sipping tea (in my case, hot chocolate) while wearing white gloves.
Which is pretty much what I'll be doing from now till the age of 90, now that I'm joining DAR.
Have a fantastic Saturday, and think of me as I'm signing my young life away this morning. I hope we can still be friends after this.