First, let me offer my apologies to all regarding the laxness with which I've been updating. As I may have mentioned a while ago, I just received tenure this summer, so after six years of working like a mad fool, I am taking some time to travel a bit and relax like an exhausted one.
Second, allow me to relate a small story: Over the Fourth of July holiday, my wife, M.F., and I visited her family for some swimming and some drinking and some drunken swimming (margaritas, it turns out, make you extra buoyant -- who knew?). During one particularly salt-encrusted, lime-soaked, and chlorine-hazed evening, M.F.'s father told us a story about M.F.'s younger sister, Sister-Woman.
When M.F. and Sister-Woman were around the ages of 13 and 12, respectively, the family was invited to a friend of the family's wedding. Sister-Woman was particularly excited about going and asked question after question about the ceremony and celebration to come.
Unfortunately, this wedding was held back in the mid-1970s in a liberal Catholic church, so the ceremony turned out to be interminable, what with the bride and groom adding their own vows to the Church's vows, earnest-young-former-hippies-turned-solemn-adults reading pithy Biblical passage after pithy Biblical passage, and, toward the end, a barbaric onslaught of religious hymns masquerading as folk music.
The twelve-year-old Sister-Woman apparently became more and more disgruntled as the ceremony continued to drag along and actually disappeared near the end. The frantic family found her, looking peeved and impatient, out in the Church's parking lot near the family car with her hands on her slender hips and her foot tapping.
"So," she barked, "Are we going to go back to the hotel and swim, or were we invited to the darn conception, too?"
Second, allow me to relate a small story: Over the Fourth of July holiday, my wife, M.F., and I visited her family for some swimming and some drinking and some drunken swimming (margaritas, it turns out, make you extra buoyant -- who knew?). During one particularly salt-encrusted, lime-soaked, and chlorine-hazed evening, M.F.'s father told us a story about M.F.'s younger sister, Sister-Woman.
When M.F. and Sister-Woman were around the ages of 13 and 12, respectively, the family was invited to a friend of the family's wedding. Sister-Woman was particularly excited about going and asked question after question about the ceremony and celebration to come.
Unfortunately, this wedding was held back in the mid-1970s in a liberal Catholic church, so the ceremony turned out to be interminable, what with the bride and groom adding their own vows to the Church's vows, earnest-young-former-hippies-turned-solemn-adults reading pithy Biblical passage after pithy Biblical passage, and, toward the end, a barbaric onslaught of religious hymns masquerading as folk music.
The twelve-year-old Sister-Woman apparently became more and more disgruntled as the ceremony continued to drag along and actually disappeared near the end. The frantic family found her, looking peeved and impatient, out in the Church's parking lot near the family car with her hands on her slender hips and her foot tapping.
"So," she barked, "Are we going to go back to the hotel and swim, or were we invited to the darn conception, too?"
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So you may or may not have noticed that all the members were removed from the Librarians group by its former owner recently.
I'm the new owner of the group, and you are invited to come join the group again. Whether you think librarians are hot or you enjoy a round of Name that Dewey Decimal Number, good times are sure to be had!
~cheers