Is there a correspondingly pretentious word (for a school you are about to attend) to alma mater? I’d like to start using it, if there is. Also, it would save me the hassle of deciding whether or not to publicly declare where I intend to enroll and save any privacy hassles.
I find it almost physically impossible these days to not round out a meal with a cup of tea. Breakfast just isn’t the same without (in the absence of coffee). Perhaps a cup of Earl Grey. After lunch, a cup of English Breakfast it nice for clearing the palate. And what is a slice of wacky cake (studded with chocolate chips) without a cup of decaf Irish Breakfast? (I choose to ignore the strangeness of drinking “breakfast” teas after noon.)
The one nice side effect to your pregnant friend suffering from back problems is that her daughter becomes much more eager for you to pick her up. Q likes to ignore me in church these days, or limit herself to casting icy glances in my direction. In her own home, it’s another story. Read her Fox in Socks and Goodnight Moon and The Maggie B. Swing her around the room. Cuddle her. Play catch with a stuffed cat. Make her laugh by swiveling around her baby doll’s head to face the wrong direction. Get a couple kisses as I leave.
I remain on pins and needles about what they will choose to name the baby currently residing in an alleged three cups of amniotic fluid.
On Tuesday I dropped some books off at my neighborhood library (not my place of employment) and just kept walking until I was at my friendly neighborhood used book store, an exceedingly dangerous little house stuffed full of books. I have this problem where I only buy books I know and love. I don’t like to take chances. But, I did manage to pick up Motherless Brooklyn – which had better live up to all the glowing praises of bloggers – as well as The Thief in a cheapo paperback and Beauty in a gorgeous hardcover, identical to the copy I first read at the library as a wee thing.
I would rather keep blogging than go to work.