Making New Friends
At the ALA Conference.
I think they were friends. Or maybe they were there to guard the merchandise. All those fabulous freebies. Well, they didn't frighten me away.

Today? Finding room for the books...
So much good stuff. Such as...
this, this (with a protagonist born in Milledgeville, how could I pass it by?) or this.

St. Isidore, Pray for Us!
Just as the drama of the past weeks fades into the past...Rick's cell phone rung at 10:30 last night. Fire at the warehouse!!!

I stayed up until about 3:00, so I don't have all the details yet. Fran and Bridget came home around 2:30 to get the keys to the shop so they could get the names and numbers of all the employees past and present. Looks like the police found clues pointing to some sort of robbery before the fire, which may not have been accidental. Things get curiouser and curiouser.

Rick is scheduled tomorrow for his yearly stress test. The fact that he made it through last night's ordeal should win him a reprieve of a week or two.

In Praise of the Bubble
or
the Touchy Touchee
About a week after it appeared, allow me to draw your attention to this WSJ article on touching in the workplace.
My family has a strong appreciation of the invisible bubble that each one of us is born with. [No...a bubble. Not a caul. A) a caul is not invisible. B) if any of my children had been born in a caul you certainly would have heard about it before.] Some of us are more sensitive than others. Martha, for example, was deeply interested in defining the perimeters of her bubble while still in utero. This was not comfortable. Not for me.

So, anyway, this is a very interesting article about defining and protecting one's bubble (and the bubbles of others) in the workplace.

“There aren’t standards about what touching is nonsexual other than handshakes,” says Larry Stybel, a Boston management consultant. “If we are sitting alongside each other and I put my hand on your knee, is that a friendly sign of affection or a sexual come-on? I don’t know, and I don’t know how you will perceive it. So let’s not even go there.”

The same issue also had a fascinating article that I have printed out and intend to take with me to my internist next month. She doesn't mind that sort of thing. (And I have promised to use the GOOGLE responsibly in health matters.) Perhaps this article could shed a little light on the familial (all girls!), multi-generational extreme early onset hypertension: The Rare Disease that Isn't Which is, of course, exacerbated by having our bubbles impinged upon. That was a double-whammy for Fran - when she was twelve and had to undergo all sorts of kidney/adrenal tests because of her elevated blood pressure. Before they could get to her kidneys...they had to invade her bubble!

Taurodontic Strawberry!

This would only be better if Dr. Big Ed had come to the door on a scavenger hunt!

...for when I am weak, then I am strong.
and there you have it. Another weekend when I'm kicking myself for not resigning from the lectors' queue. It shouldn't make a difference; I'm going to Mass anyway. But the (perceived) pressure - the expectation of ultra-punctuality, good grooming beyond simple cleanliness, preparation. It casts a certain pall over the joyful anticipation of Mass. And this week-end...with my Jeep in the UP and my transportation options limited to Bridget's Buick with the squeaky brakes and the St. Isidore Foundation panel van (with the mismatched doors and the 4SALE OBO still visible on the sides) which looks like any good citizen would report it as a 'suspicious vehicle.'

Then, as always, all is well when I look over the readings for the day. Sufficient grace. Sufficient for the Independence Day irritations, the vehicular limitations. And sufficient to sustain me through Mass - through the sinus headache, the tilting server's candle, the processional cross not quite stabilized...(do I attempt to remedy the situation? Or do I risk more harm and distraction by trying to reposition it with my already proven clumsy fingers?) Sufficient.

Brothers and sisters:
That I, Paul, might not become too elated,
because of the abundance of the revelations,
a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan,
to beat me, to keep me from being too elated.
Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me,
but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you,
for power is made perfect in weakness."
I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses,
in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.
Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults,
hardships, persecutions, and constraints,
for the sake of Christ;
for when I am weak, then I am strong.

Freebird!
It's like you want to ask the guy who yelled it, 'What are you -- 45?' I hate those people, but not the song.
So - my age is showing. I thought I was really funny yelling "Freebird" every time I heard someone in the family room whomping away with Guitar Hero. And the favor was returned on the night when I grabbed the mic and sang a long, painful rendition of Do It Again. (the two minute video clip has blessedly disappeared)

My sister and I once made a list of absurd places to yell "Freebird." My number 1 entry - a Papal audience.

La-a
The dash is not silent.
This is not the product of our collective imaginations. Dr. Big Ed had a patient by that name. We wonder if it is the same La-a who orders carry-out pizza at the Silo.
Rick has decided to change his name to P@.
The world continues to deteriorate.

Placentophagy
Like the Sears Tower ledge, just one of those places I could not go.
Although I do have a rather amusing placenta story from Eddie's birth. No time to go into it now. Perhaps I should just save it for a special occasion - maybe I could work it into a toast for his wedding...

Of the many things which I don't fear...
this ain't one of them.
Looking up at the Sears Tower makes me dizzy. This would make me hysterical.

I might do it as part of a reality show stunt (i.e. should there be some sort of payoff involved) but otherwise ...no. The one story glass elevator at Northbrook Court gives me the willies.

UPDATE: This has further interesting information. But I still don't think I'd take that big little step. Intense elevator fear being a primary consideration...