2.04.2012

and see, no longer blinded by our eyes

January 4: causerie, meaning "an informal conversation : chat", or "a short informal essay".
One of my good friends has a very hard time pronouncing the word 'blog'; she tries too hard, making it come out closer to "blahhhg" or "blowggg" rather than the word "log" with a "b at the start." Do you think she'd find it easier to call this my causerie?

February 5: arduous, meaning "hard to accomplish or achieve", "marked by great labor or effort", or "steep".
Yesterday's trials began before I woke, when I turned off Alarm Clock #1 (next to the bed) during my sleep. That led to me being awakened by Alarm Clock #2, which is located across the room--inconveniently, intentionally. I sprang out of bed to turn off the damned thing before its droning burst my skull open, discovering mid-spring that my feet were extra-slippery because I'd lotioned them during the night (which I sometimes do, hating the feel of dry skin on flannel sheets). When the smooth soles of my feet hit the Scotch-Guarded carpeting, my lead foot slipped out from beneath me. I performed something akin to a right split, only with my back knee bent--and smashing against the floor when I landed. (I also rugburnt both hands trying to break my fall.) I knew then that it would be an arduous day.


Further proof that 'sophisticated' and 'intellectual' are relative terms.

Gift, Point (part I): Kindle Keyboard.
I'd never really thought that I would have an e-reader. Never really saw what all the fuss was about. It came as a complete surprise that I got one, for sure. Now that I have it, what do I think?
...I'll save that for a future post.
Gift, Point (part II): red leather cover for Kindle Keyboard.
SO cool! I was leery of carrying it anywhere, because my book bag is unstructured in the extreme, but now that it has its own little case, I feel like it's as safe as any other book.
Gift, Counterpoint:
Jeremiah Weed Sweet-Tea (sweet-tea flavored vodka, 70 proof),
and "Junk Drunk" shot glass actually purchased from Antique Archeology (American Pickers). 

[the title quotation is by Rupert Brooke - one of the most underrated and lovely English poets of all time]

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