Water Water Everywhere

It has been storming all day in Houston and I have come home to a very wet kitchen. It was completely soaked. Thank you leaky roof. I am now employed in emtyping the ever filling buckets every hour or so. WTF mates. This really sucks.

I am participating in a middle school’s celebration of National Book Week by presenting my favorite book to the kids. I have chosen Little Women, which was my favorite book until about half-way through high school and Eragon, a new favorite. I have a lot of favorite books, but these seemed the most appropriate. I considered Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging, but I had a feeling it might not go over well. Loony bin.

The dripping will surely drive me bonkers by the end of the evening. I am going to drink a beer and watch Buffy. (I am now on season 5)

Word Smiths

Yesterday, Mr. Rochester and his sister K got into an email battle over the existence of three words. K insisted that while “undesired” was a word “undesire” was not. Mr. Rochester believed “undesire” was not a word but that “indesire” was a word. Then, he proceeded to throw “irregardless” into the mix. At this point, knowing my penchant for fun words and word games, Mr. R copied me into the email so that I, being the librarian goddess that I am, could resolve the argument. After this point, all hilarity ensued. This is what I initially found:

According to the OED (the Oxford English Dictionary for the uninitiated):

Irregardless can be an adjective or an adverb and is the non-standard use of the word regardless used mainly in North America. So basically, this is another word we Americans have bastardized. It is still a word.

Undesire is also a word. It can be a noun, first appearing in 1880, or a verb, appearing in 1395. So this also turned out to be an actual word.

Now for the good part. According to the OED, which in my mind equals god of the English language, “indesire” does not exist.

I broke the news to Mr. Rochester that he was wrong, an incident which rarely occurs, which I, as his loving partner, lorded over him. He pouted and asserted that he was right anyway and I could take my “nancy-boy” dictionary and…….you know. I checked Merriam-Webster Online and it did not exist there either, so I called him a “magnificent pouf”.

Unfortunately, later in the afternoon, a coworker, hearing my retelling of the argument, amid much gloating, looked “indesire” up on Dictionary.com. He says he found it but today I can not locate the word. I appear to still be the victor. Besides, even if I had found it in some online dictionary, I would not admit defeat unless the source were actually something that could stand up to the OED.

Really, Mr. R should know better than to challenge me regarding diction and the English language.

The Tuesdays

Nothing tops off a so-so day with a good ending like a call from an old friend. The old friend in this case was my roommate and partner in crime while I lived in Dallas. B is funny and talks more than I do which is a great feat. I got caught up on all the news from my old group. Today is Tuesday, which means they are all at home sleeping soundly after consuming too many beers at our favorite bar. Every week for almost two years we have been going to the same bar, with the same tired old crowd, to discuss the week and drink our troubles away or celebrate, as the case may be. This is one of the things I miss the most about Dallas. One of the group has started a weekly “Bostonian” update which B has promised to send my way. What is not fun about the combination of friends, beer, great bartenders, and food? Nothing, I say.

After a dreary few days, the clouds finally let loose and it has rained a bit. I made a chocolate flan cake for work tomorrow and I watched the two penultimate* episodes of the fourth season of Buffy. Did I mention my lack of life? I had more drinking outings in Dallas.

It occurs to me that I am now simply typing without real purpose. This means I should go to bed. Sweet dreams to all.

*I have been waiting days to use that word. Anyone else having Monty Python flashbacks?


Maybe this Forbes article will explain why I can not control myself around alcohol. “I’m sorry officer. I am genetically predisposed to like and consume alcoholic beverages.”

-posted by Jane who wished she had a flask in her pocket

Bathroom Etiquette

At my library, the staff bathrooms are unisex, which I usually do not mind, but I have one complaint. Is it really too much to ask that the men not pee all over the floor? I am not talking about splashing here, I am talking large puddles where my feet and pants’ legs touch the floor. This must stop. Men, aim for the large hole in front of you.


The visit with Mr. R’s parents went great. It is always nice to see family. There was some nagging; I was happy.

The Aggies beat Texas Tech in OT, so I had at least one reason to smile this weekend. We moved up one spot to 21 in the BCS poll. Now if we can just beat Texas in two weeks, I’ll be a happy girl.

I am fighting a sinus infection. I can never decide what is the worst thing about having a sinus infection: the pressure in my forehead and cheekbones? The headache that comes from the pressure? The floatiness that comes from the two above? The irritated stomach from the copious amounts of snot? It all sucks. Oh, and about a week from now I will have a cold sore on my nose from blowing it so often. Crap.

On a somewhat lighter note, due to Netflix I have no life. You heard me, Netflix. I am a firm believer in the genius of Joss Whedon, but I have never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer from the beginning. I got Netflix for the sole purpose of watching them all. It is sad, I know. There is the added reason that there is almost nothing good left on TV thanks to reality shows and idiot executives, must I say it…. Angel and Firefly? But I digress. I come home at night and end up watching about one disc, 4 episodes, a night. I have almost stopped reading! I have stopped meaningless surfing on the net! I just get sucked in. I am now on season 4, so in a couple more weeks, this craziness will be over.

Moving on to Books
I finished Emma last week and I am now going to start The Book Shop, by Penelope Fitzgerald. I have repeatedly seen her name on lists of “books you should read ‘cuz they are good”. I will let you know what I think. Of course, Emma was great. It was Austen.

Parental Advisory

Mr. Rochester – aka the Boyfriend (but only when he is in the dog house) – has the supreme pleasure of having his parents visit this weekend. They live, much to his current relief, in Annapolis, but they frequently find occasions, or none at all, to come and visit their dear children here in Houston. I hold the firm belief that Mr. R only dreads these visits because it gives his mother and sister, K, the opportunity to group nag him. I, of course, never join in (this is me cackling in the background). I actually find a perverse pleasure in hearing someone else nag him on topics on which I can not sometimes help giving my opinion. It is like when you were younger and you would be unable to stop laughing hysterically as your sibling was severely upbraided by your mother. Why was this so funny? Ok, it still makes me laugh, but I am a cold hearted bitch. Time and age have not changed that.

In conclusion, please wish me many happy moments in which I sit back and gloat as Mr. R is nagged by someone other than his sweet Jane.


An Epitaph for Delilah, sugar glider of unknown age:

Delilah had a hard life before we got her, full of people who did not know how to house, keep, or feed a sugar glider. When she first came to us, she did not like us at all, but time and love won her over. Delilah had a funny habit of never jumping anywhere but rather flinging herself from place to place. She used to nibble my fingers to verify that I had not spontaneously become cantaloupe or grapes. On Delilah’s last night, she curled up in my lap and went to sleep. She was with us for almost 5 years. Good-bye my sweet, dainty girl.

Delilah is survived by her partner Samson, their son Puck, and her loving parents, Jane and Mr. Rochester.

On a lighter note

I have got to learn to not drink coffee while I walk. I am unable to accomplish this feat without spilling some of it on my shirt in embarrassing places. You know, they stick out and catch things.