flibbertigibbet - word of the week

Here I sit. My feet are cold from the hardwood floor. I listen, almost ostentatiously to Bach's cello suite no.1 humming into my headphones. The book I'm reading is nearly finished. It's over 500 pages. My next book should be rather different. Something like Gogol or Tolstoy. Maybe an autobiography would be nice. I would like to ask for recommendations, but my inbox is already flooded with fan mail from well-wishers and busy-body bloggers, I simply don't have time to sort through hundreds of opinionated emails from zealous readers about what book to read next. So, I'll just have to decide of my own accord.

Recently at dinner dad made an interesting announcement. After some (questionable) research, he has concluded that our surname is Jewish. We immediately determined that he has been watching too much Fiddler on the Roof, and then Stephen piped, "Well Dad if we're Jewish you owe me bar mitzvah money." That seems to have settled the discussion. I'm indifferent. First we were Scottish, then Swedish, now we're Jewish. What's tomorrow?

Tonight I'm not planning to sleep much. There are some issues that demand resolution, and today I received notice that the "Admissions Committee has recommended you for admission for the MAcc Program at the University of Georgia." Graduate school, it formerly seemed to be foreign, daunting, distant, uninviting. Now I'm accepted and it seems like just another step down this long wearisome road. The novelty of it is inarticulately fleeting. It's a huge relief, honestly.