Need for Caution: Contrition

I've become abruptly aware recently that many of the sayings and metaphorical phrases which I grew up hearing and using in a clean and witty sense may be understood in an unclean, perverted sense. I shall have to exercise much caution if I mean to keep my communication as clear as my thought.

To all my friends and readers: Forgive me if I have unintentionally said something offensive, suggestive, or improper. If it occurs again, please correct me and clarify. Apologies in advance.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, that's ok too.

It's Time to Go Home

When your 1st metacarpal-phalange joint is swollen, red, and too tender to move, you know it's time to stop studying and go home.

And when you call the thumb joint by it's anatomical name, it's time for a full night's sleep.

Slightly lonely and subconsciously fatigued,
TQ

Because I am an Epistemophiliac...

Reader,

I crave this book. I found it in the library yesterday and it is amazing:

Mrs. Byrne's Dictionary of Unusual, Obscure, and Preposterous Words.

From this book, my friend and I learned yesterday that we are both "epistemophiliacs" and have since used that word rather randomly.

Is rediscovering her love for words and language, philosophy and debate. ARG.

Revelation

I just had a revelation. I have a whole 6 hours until 12 pm. A whole 6 hours I can use to finish a nutrition project! What ho! The wonder o' it.

Let's get 'er done.

B-day

Last evening through today have together composed the nicest birthday I think I have ever had. Simple, no fanfare, relaxing, are effective descripters. I did what I wanted to do.

Last night I came home to a nice, homecooked stirfry complete with vegetables, mushrooms, and onions. Instead of cake, we had apple pie at my request. Mom even bought cider. It was a very cozy meal - just the family, nothing elaborate. After dinner I received a few gifts - beautiful writing from my youngest sister, a CD of Handel's Messiah from my Grandparents, and a cell phone from my parents. Best of all, Dad brought out the guitar. He hasn't played since...I don't know when - probably at least a year. We drug out the old "Word of God" community song books and sang the beautiful charismatic semi-liturgical songs I used to love as a wee lass. The Te Deum setting in Daddy's book is still one of my favorite songs.

Instead of going to sleep or forcing homework down my gullet or even socializing online, I took up a book - the first fiction book I've cracked this semester. George MacDonald regaled me with his narrative of "wee Sir Gibbie" till nigh on 1:30am. It was delightfully satisfying and seemed a combination of several styles of writing I've appreciated in the past. The young, dumb, gentle-hearted orphan overcomes the odds with simplicity and forgiveness, wins the maiden, and in poetic justice inherits the house of his forbears, all in (relative) Scottish dialect.

The day of me birth I spent wi' me ain bonnie lad and some other friends. I would not have had the day any other way. It was relaxing, low key, and not "me focused" at all. I may safely say that in all my -- years, I've had ne'er a more pleasant birthday, nor received it sae gratefully as a day of rest.

Sunday Night's Addition: A note on the makeup. I'm going off of it. I've been wearing it off and on for the past week and a half because of acne severity. I hate acne: I hate the blotches on my face. I also abhore a mask, particularly clay, especially clay connected by association with coquettish behaviors. But I put it on because I hated the unnatural physiologic more than the unnatural cosmetic. Tomorrow, however, I'm done. I will not be ashamed of my face. If it causes unpleasantness to others, I will hide it again, but not till then.

Goodnight, dear reader. Tomorrow I begin my clinical work in Geriatrics. I don't have to get up at 4am, but I do need to rise at 5, and hence I shall now turn in. Here ends another post with no particularly deep point.