Fancy Pants

I am officially a published author as of Friday in the Journal of Language Policy (September 2008) 7, 217-235 . I realize that it is likely that not a single person not forced by me will actually read what I have written, but I don't care. I got a giddy feelings when I saw my name on the author line and I may have squealed, but only Skippy can confirm or deny that. I have walked around the planet feeling really special since then.

One might ask, how does a published author who lives alone in the burbs pass her leisure time? She eats bruschetta made with basil from her herb garden, fancy fresh mozzarella cheese from Whole Foods wrapped in prosciutto, and sips Pinot Noir a she listens to world music night on NPR. I would guess some of you think I'm completely obnoxious and maybe just a little snotty for telling you this. Don't judge me just yet. What you don't know is that the bread the bruschetta is on came from Sam's Club (I KNOW, I know the evils of Walmart, but I'm an Army wife and a grad student so back off), the Pinot Noir cost less than $9 a bottle, and my dog regularly pisses on the herbs in my herb garden. So as you can see I'm really not that fancy pants at all. I simply have a lot of time on my hands since my husband is off fighting the global war on terror and I'm procrastinating. I'm just trying demonstrate that in this post-modern society all is not what it seems.