This past weekend marked another Valentine’s Day – Mr. Dressed and I celebrated with our usual flare: getting fancy, a dinner at Manna (one of our favorite restaurants in town), followed by presents back at the homestead. And as we are barreling towards our 10 year wedding anniversary, I can’t help but marvel at how lucky I am to have found someone with whom I simply fit.
I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve been binging on The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel ever since the new season aired. And while swooning over the costumes and reveling in the glitz and the glam, I particularly appreciate how sassy Midge always has the perfect comeback. She has an uncanny knack for getting on stage and going off the cuff. Always ready with the appropriate one liner to zing the hecklers. Now, I’m sure having a screen writer doesn’t hurt, but there are way too many moments in life where I think of the perfect thing to say far too…
The other week I met with an industrious, charming group of freshman who were assigned to interview a faculty member whose research aligned with their career interests. We arranged a time to meet and they sat around the table, smiling politely in my direction, pens poised. One assumed the role of the scribe, another the interviewer, the others fiddled with their notebooks. And I remembered so poignantly being them, nervously shaking hands with a professor and seeing nothing but the space between where I was and where they sat.
This has been a very odd week. Our University has reopened, which brings with it the positives of getting back to a routine and seeing for myself that my students are alright and that my campus community is slowly rebuilding. But, the stress around me is palpable, as we all wander around in a stupor of coming to terms with our new reality and our new surroundings. Trying to stay positive, but falling victim to the shock and subsequent guilt (at how lucky I was) in equal measure. This, coupled with an emotionally charged week where I realized just how…
There really is nothing like the classics. This is true of literature and of vintage. I think I first read Romeo and Juliet back in high school. We all know the famous story by that cheeky Bard: The warring families, the unrequited love. The heartbreaking ending where the star crossed lovers can only find each other in death. Gah. Only in fair Verona.