Ida
Will You Find Me
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Ayn Rand
Atlas Shrugged |
a mass of tangled, wind-blown curls
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coffee |
Laine called on Wednesday in need of a plan of action if her stalker happened to show up on
her doorstep while she was working out on her treadmill next to her open window. We came up with a strategy
involving a few closed shudders and a mantra that's not just for kindergarten fire drills anymore.
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Cover Girl finally makes a lip cover that stays on through breakfast, lunch, dinner, a shower, two glasses
of wine, and a night's sleep. Miraculous.
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I'm such a fan of the long seasons that Washington DC has to offer... months and months
of spring that offer beach walks and tempting days with the sun streaming through the windows. Now I just
need some tulip and daffodil bulbs for my flower box.
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Laine wrote to tell me that the best unexpected consequence from reading the last
whirlygirl entry was, "turning around in an empty office in Atlanta to find a paperback Webster's
dictionary sitting on top of an empty cabinet. Despite not having 'noumenal' in its pages, being urged
to look it up from whirlygirl was worth it for the musty smell of childhood that came rushing back when I
opened its pages. It smelled just like the green paperback dictionary I used since 7th grade and that I
still have, though its cover is long gone and it's missing a few pages."
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Lots of my fellow late-night allies wrote to tell me that they loved the entry about
not being able to wake up early. Deb: "You must get the same phone calls we do, 'You're STILL sleeping?'
This comes from people who actually can get to bed by a reasonable hour. I always tell them I'm going to call them
right before I go to sleep and see if they are still UP."
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13 days-- but who is counting?
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