When Kristin invited me to call in to her book club, I immediately recognized the area code of my youth. I just had never heard of the town, Williston Park. Imagine my surprise when her book club informed me it was only 10 minutes southeast of Great Neck, where they knew I grew up. (They did make me feel better by explaining it's a "tiny" town and most people have never heard of it. I bet that's pretty nice. And, after looking at the town's website, I'd also bet that keeping the place a well-kept secret is something they strive to do.)

back: Kris Pepper, Lucy Benjamin, Marge Mahoney, Margaret Knapp, Nina Gonzalez, Ann Weinblad, Cynthia Allan

front: Carolyn Eikhard, Jane Davey, Peggy Abad, Stephanie Blake

As usual, library book clubs make for very lively discussions, which, if you think about it, is rather counterintuitive. I mean, it's not like they're serving drinks. (Or, if they are, I really must get on the board of the Boulder Public Library and change a bylaw or two.)

Ladies, thanks again for a lovely discussion. Even though we spoke weeks ago, I still find myself nostalgic for the accents of my youth.

Queen On!

Josie, whose cell phone I called for this book club, informed me that Cafe du Jour is "the best little cafe in Pittsburgh." We'll have to trust her on this (unless any of you have been there), but the place is certainly tolerant! Usually when I call into book clubs, they're at someone's home. But, there's apparently more than just food that goes into being the best little cafe in Pittsburgh. (I bet they make a fab Pittsburgher, too. Groan. Oh, what do you want from me?)

This utterly adorable group of 20- to 30-somethings love reading memoirs. One member of the group, Lori, even traveled across the country in an RV.

Ladies, it was lovely being your book du jour at the Cafe. If you've read any more memoirs you'd recommend, please let me know in the comments. Same to anyone else! I'm hankering for a good one...

Well, OK. One Nerd in particular. But, the other day, I had the following, thoroughly entertaining interaction with a gaggle of 'em, and then total confirmation (through the Nerd of my own) of why they're so darn fabulous.

Tim was in line at the food court in the mall (we were there for my annual, January, slippy sock discount trek at the Nordstrom Rack) while I tried to grab a table. The place was packed, but I finally saw a group of four, 30ish year-old young men, all in white shirts and pocket protectors, starting to clean up their lunch. I ran over.

Me: Are you leaving? May I grab this table? (Contrary to what you all might think, I tend to be polite.)

Nerd: (And, if you're objecting to my stereotypically identifying these young lads as "nerds," or even using that term, what do you want from me? Just read on.)
Very good! We've noticed it takes an average of 8 seconds for someone to get a table after it's vacated. (See? Told ya. Nerds.)

Me: Well, I've always been an overachiever. (And, yes, they laughed.)

So, here's why I love nerds - especially mine: What is the smartest thing a husband could possibly say when told this story?

Tim: They were probably just trying to hit on you.

Sigh.