Joy.

Well, I am certainly feeling very chipper today. I surely love the opportunity to blither at people about my research, indeed I do. Blither blither blee! It combines the things I love best, yammering and myself.

So cheerful am I that I am going to post a picture of myself in which you can see both my 30-week-pregnant torso and my shining face.

 

Am I not radiantly replete with beatific enthusiasm? Does not my entire person proclaim, "I am an avatar of the miracle of life"? Is it any wonder that no one dares to touch my bump?

(I really am feeling cheerful, though, I promise.)

Comments

[jessamyn]

I would totally touch your bump.

[ben]

It sounds very enticing.

[Amy]

The only time I ever touched someone's bump was when a coworker grabbed my hand and pressed it against her, exclaiming, "There! She's kicking!". I snatched my hand back as quickly as possibly. You're safe from me.

In this picture you are the image of glowing, beatnik motherhood. Get thee to a coffeehouse.

[Ray Davis]

I would totally listen to you blither about your research.

[Iheartfashion]

Be thankful no one's touching your bump! I couldn't go to the store or ride the train without a total stranger laying an unwelcome hand on my pregnant midsection and cooing. Very unnerving.

[redfox]

Jessamyn: Big talk!

Ben: Yammering? Being an avatar of the miracle of life? Torso touching?

Amy: I promise never ever to grab your hand and press it against me.

Ray: Hooray. I would happily have you blither back at me.

Iheartfashion: Oh, believe me, I am very thankful indeed. So very thankful.

[Drew]

Touching of bumps immediately triggered this in my mind:
"He showed us his stump, Victoria. Ever see a man's stump? Guy's like, 'Go on, man. I want you to know how it feels. Touch it. Touch my stump.' Disgusting! So don't tell us that Bucky Haight wasn't shot, cause we were there. We touched his stump."