If I had balls, EMS could suck them

KW, she of the very extended French vacation, is in town, and I met her for tea and pastries today near the LNFU. She was appropriately excited about the things I showed her at the LNFU, including the super-great trash can from the 50s, the rickety staircase, the gleaming laboratory, and the mushroom display. It felt good to have someone totally geek out over the same things I do.

A couple of days ago at the LNFU I took a mandatory tour of the stacks of one of the LNFU's non-circulating libraries. I felt terrified and exhilarated because I was sharing space-and not a very big space, considering-with one hundred million dollars worth of books. Then that night before bed I read an article about the library at the Vatican and it was grand.

Anyhoo, I have been having a LOT of trouble ignoring the supreme court justice who has built a lean-to on my soul. I judge myself all day long. I can't lose myself in writing, for all the gavel-banging.

(Regarding the title: the Eastern Mountain Sports in Harvard Square has one incompetent self-aggrandizing little weasel working there; I tried to return some yoga pants today and had an unfortunate encounter with him. I shan't be shopping there again.)