The Spinanes
Strand
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Donna Tartt
The Secret History
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Ranier cherries;
"Kris";
pedicures;
5 by Friday;
showers that use every last drop of the hot water;
smelling the tissue paper
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The USPS's fake Express Mail guarantees and the inadequacy of Administaff's
mailroom
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Laine and I are still trying to figure out what we did to deserve
a couple of bright shining sunny hours on Sunday afternoon to drive around
Manhattan with the top down in-between all the melancholy rain and gloom of the
rest of the weekend.
She thinks my weekend horoscope may have had something to do with it:
"Be a pleasure seeker this weekend in your best Epicurean tradition. Heed
your inner hedonist to find howls and hoots in novel pursuits. If you don't
visit a theme park, make one! You contain multitudes of laughs -- with the
right company. Spend the weekend with someone whose reckless smile you
can't resist."
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One that I forgot on Monday's list: 1 Pacific Princess spotted on the
Hudson River.
Laine: "My God, Kristen, it's The Love Boat!"
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So the other day Brandon used the phrase "baited breath"
and then paused to wonder exactly what that meant. And of course for me, this meant a trip to the
American Heritage Dictionary. And the AHD rocks so hard that it lists under the word "bait"
a little usage hint that reads: "The word bait is sometimes used improperly for bate in
the phrase bated breath.
Well this girl loves a dictionary that can actually read her mind. And so I flipped through a few more
pages to the word "bate" to find it means: "To flap the wings wildly in
impatience."
And I just gotta say, that the best part of the whole thing was the oooohs and ahhhs and bated breath
that came from Brandon as I related this all to him. I have to love a guy who indulges and delights
in my dictionary adventures. Simple as that.
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Brandon sent Todd a conspiratorial message about how to win
white rabbit this month. As if.
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