A tribute. A congratulations. A loving virtual hug. A bunch of roses and a bottle of champagne (Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame and nothing less. Classy is what matters today.). And general happiness and overwhelming joy.
This morning I received an email from one of my very bestest friends in the world, Ph.D. Mommy. She knows me too well and decided to write to me because she gets how passé Facebook has become for us cool kids who blog, and she has yet to discover my actual other lifelines, Twitter and lately Flickr.
Are you telling me she is smart, alive and has a computer, but she's still not blogging, and she's not on Twitter either? What the fok? How can that be? I bet Appadurai and Dasgupta are bloggers and totally viral on Twitter too...
She wrote to me like you can only write to those people you know are your closest and most authentic of friends, giving me the news of her earth-moving (if you didn't feel it, you are obviously not familiar with post-colonial literature studies, which is just too bad for you, because there was a nice sway felt even all the way in South Africa) accomplishment, without a hint of that all-too-common Scandinavian need for self-deprecation in the face of great accomplishments and deeds.
Well. It's not much, and there's just so much else wrong with my life... and it was a total fluke too.
She wrote to me to tell me how happy she was, and I can honestly say that I am incredibly happy for her, and feel honored to have such an intelligence, among her other good qualities like never giving me a hard time for coming off as practically avoiding staying in touch (My bad. I know. But I don't mean to go underground. Really, I don't.), so close to the core of my life.
As for her accomplishment, it is certainly not the first time she has shone, and I know it will not be the last. There are great things to follow. And if there is anyone who deserves the result she has gotten, it is her. Not simply because the way she has worked on this specific project warrants it, but also because there have been obstacles that would have made anyone with less of a drive quit long ago.
So here's to my quiet, yet fierce friend Ph.D. Mommy, all raise your glasses now, I'm going the way of ancient Romans and Greeks (because I too am smart that way, and know stuff. I do!) and giving you a crown something made out of laurel leaves.
Now the bay leaves are out. I'll have to get the Hubs to make soup, I guess...
You are a true scholar.