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I think I read Marian Keyes' first book, Watermelon, about 13 years ago. The book was released in 1995, and I discovered it 9 years later.

I can't stop thinking about this photo she posted on Instagram last month. She just now translated this book - a book that was released 22 years ago - into Icelandic and released it last month.

It was a good reminder that fiction never goes out of style!

5 things I've learned this week - March 25-29

Hey there, good lookin. How's it where you are? Still winter? If so, can I get a resounding "ugh"?! This is always the time of year when I'm like, "Winter, you've had your fun. Now kindly GTFO," but it so rarely listens. Anyways, I could dwell on this shoddy hand we've been dealt at the tail end of March, or I could focus on all I've learned this week! I choose the latter:

1. I now count belly rubbing as a preferred past time. In my prior baby-less existence I thought of fondling one's belly as an intimate experience, one best reserved for private time, but that was before I understood the function of a well-timed belly rub. Once you have the sort of gut that can *just* about balance a mug of tea, then belly rubbing takes on a different function. Suddenly, it lets you send a message to the world that you're deep in thought. The sort of deep thought it now takes to push past that baby fog and remember words like "street" and "shoe" that you used to just take for granted. I liken it to stroking a beard, and this week I learned just how enjoyable it can be. 

She's trying to remember the word "soup." I know the feeling.

She's trying to remember the word "soup." I know the feeling.

2. My husband is an otter-phobe. I thought he was an open-minded individual, but then I proposed getting a pet otter due to a particularly enjoyable meme that came across one of the several million pet Instagram accounts I follow. He tried to disguise his intolerance by pointing out that domesticating otters is "dangerous" and "illegal," but this was all while looking into this otter's wittle face! The only explanation is that my husband has a deep seeded intolerance for otters, which I just learned this week.

That wittle face!

That wittle face!

3. Paper/plastic crinkling is my Kryptonite as a preggo. Want to strip me of all my pregnancy powers, ie my wolf-like sense of smell? Then go ahead and crinkle some paper or plastic for more than the customary 0.5 seconds you're allowed to free whatever snack or food item you have within that papery or plasticky package. I learned this on the bus during what I thought would be an inoffensive commute, but then some people just have to crinkle their paper and/or plastic for a gratuitous amount of time and test the very limits of my patience. Infuriating.

0.5 seconds. No more.

0.5 seconds. No more.

4. Ewan McGregor's midwestern accent sounds Irish. Anyone else watching Fargo season 3? I can appreciate it's tough to get the Minnesota accent just right, but he seems to have started with the accent of his native home - Scotland - and then gone midway down the UK then out to the west for his accent. He, of course, landed on Ireland, since that's the "midwest" compared with where Scotland is, but that's really not how people from Minnesota sound. I feel vindicated y'all. After spending years defending Dick Van Dyke's "British" accent from Mary Poppins to native Brits, I feel as though I finally have the equivalent of someone from Great Britain getting it so very wrong. I learned that this week.

5. And, finally, I learned that the Les Mis soundtrack is not appropriate work music. It creates a level of tension and drama that very few expect on a Monday morning, but I had to find out firsthand. I craved "On my own" by Eponine, and I've heard that pregnant women should indulge in their cravings. Maybe this time I should have abstained. I learned that this week.

Until next time...