all changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy

    If you're reading this post through a feed of some sort, do me a favor and click through to the blog itself. I've made some template changes for the first time in a couple of years, and I'm curious for reactions from the faithful (and the unfaithful, and those just stopping by).

January 24: redound

It is impossible to know which of the actions that we make on behalf of others will redound in positive ways. The best we can do is the best we can do at the time, in hopes that it will be taken that way.

February 24: Rubicon

I was relieved to learn that my personal decision, which has an impact on my professional life, will not cross the Rubicon of any of the close friends whose opinions about such an issue would matter to me.

 

     As planned, The Mumbler and I spent the day in Suburbia. We started at American Science & Surplus, and had a good time but didn't spend a penny. I think the biggest hit was the giant hip flask, though we poked and prodded through the entire store.
     Next, we ate an extremely leisurely lunch at the Irish place. Our waiter (who could have been in a boy band or possibly modeling for J.Crew after his shift--he was more beautiful than the most beautiful woman I've seen in the past year, by 10%) was arrogant but skilled, and delivered our drinks and food effectively and without undue spillage. The more-brisk-than-expected (thanks to the probably 25° windchill) walk to Crate and Barrel did us no harm; the bar had been over-warm, and a little sobering up prior to the temptations of C&B is not a bad thing. Despite some surprisingly pushy customer service personnel, we enjoyed our time there very much as well. This was the (ostensible) object of our trip:

The Atwood frame and headboard

(In person, the headboard did not have that odd, two-toned appearance.) He was happy with the entire bedroom suite but not with the price, so we may continue our shopping for a while (at least until they have a sale). I, for what it's worth, LOVEDLOVEDLOVED this tall bookcase:

The Elevate bookcase

and this matching shorter piece:

The Elevate low bookcase

    St. Patrick's Day and Easter are coming, y'all!
     Instead, I bought a couple of things for my collections, and off we went, heading across town in the opposite direction. The 'burbia is...awkward, I guess, to drive, since where we wanted to go turned out to be in quite disparate areas. If we started at the compass point S, and Am Sci & Surplus is N, the Irish place and Crate & Barrel are sort of E, and World Market, our last destination, is, essentially, W. Sort of. It was a lot of driving, and a lot of traffic. Neither of which either of us is used to. So that was a trial. But we survived. Anyway....
     Am Sci & Surplus is for geeks, nerds, dorks, and scientists. Crate and Barrel is for yuppies and hipsters. World Market, on the other hand, is for all of them and the rest of us. Weird, wonderful, bizarre, a little scary, deadly when you're hungry or bored or desperately need a gift, there's literally something for everyone. M. bought some olives the size of my thumb and a jar of pesto, and I spent ~$50 on....

The spoils.

Several packages of scone mix (surprise! they're not from scratch); lemon cookies; a set of napkins, since mine have seen better days - and, oddly, all of mine are blue; a couple of sets of chopsticks (which, locally, are used for swizzle sticks), and two chopstick rests (black origami swan and a blue fan, which is actually an incense holder but who's going to know?). Also pictured are the shot glass and saki cup that I got from C&B

January 25: periphrasis

I would like to say that one of my coworkers suffers from periphrasis, but I'm afraid it is the others of us, those who listen to the endless stories packed with $20/lb. words, who truly must endure.

February 25: diapause
(Oh, God, I'm snorting with laughter as I type....)

My young male friend, experiencing a sort of romantic dry spell, compared himself (like a martyr) to a sort of relationship dromedary, suffering through a diapause that felt like crossing an emotional desert.

[the title quotation is by Anatole France, and reads in its entirety: "All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."]