Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

You just bought yourself another Saturday.

Congratulations to my friends graduating this fine spring. No one but you can know what it took to get you here.
Sometimes it was probably easier than people thought, and then there were other things that likely did you in. But you finished.

I've finished in a stroll and I've finished hobbling. All of 'em count.

It's been a year and half since I finished my last degree, and I've had no urge to go back.

There are plenty of wise words to pass along, but I'm sure you have lots of people being serious with you. May I humbly submit some high school wisdom from the '80s, via Brian, Andrew, Allison, Claire, and John:

"Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did *was* wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain... and an athlete... and a basket case... and a princess... and a criminal. Does that answer your question?... Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club"

And in other news:

I bought this lovely item:

1) I love maps. I have them all over my apt. A world map. Multiple city maps from places I've lived. If left to my own devices, I will stare for hours.

2) This is not so much a map to navigate by, as one by which to mark place. "You are here." I am here. Between two small 'a's and a large 'u'. Between three large bookshelves and a small kitchen.

3) The last single dwelling I lived in as long as I've been in this apartment: my parents' house, before college.

No, I am not fully unpacked.