I'm a woman of few words. I really don't talk that much. You get the picture. This is the place where I blab, blab, blabbity-blab.
When I teach classes for work and talk for 1.5 hours straight I get so damn hoarse it takes me a day to recover! I don't understand. It's like I have a cold. Only no drippy nose. Drippy. It's perhaps the grossest word describing a nasal symptom. Also, the word reminds me of this book. Read to me as a youngster by who else? My grandpa.
I'm planning a bridal shower that's not a bridal shower . A happy hour for a bride that just wants to 'hang out' at my house with friends and wine (no gifts wanted; no games wanted; must obey bride's wishes or yours truly will be kicked to the curb). I am the worst party planner, even though I am addicted to reading about entertaining in magazines and books (see Fête Accompli, Shriftman & Harrison, 2005). There's not much more to add, other than the thought of it is keeping me preoccupied.
4 comments:
My dad always says fete accompli. And I'm gonna buy him that kids book to read to my kids. love it.
I don't even know how that would sound. FEET accompli? FET accompli? I suck at Latin.
I thought it sounded like the word fate. But I don't know where I got that idea.
You are terrific for throwing a giftless shower. I hate showers, but got them for both wedding and baby. I would have loved a happy hour sans gifts!
I had a dream last night that you were the TA type person in a class I was taking (that happened to be kindergarten, but I was an adult!) and you were basically evil!
NOOOO! I have started yelling at the wild youths of Wellington, though, to shut their yaps at the library.
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