Juniors Birthday Quotes

Me: ‘Isn’t there another midwife who can do it?’ Midwife: ‘She’s on her break.’ Me: ‘I’m on my break.’ (Untrue.) Midwife: ‘You don’t get breaks.’ (Depressing but true.) Me: (pleading, in a tone of voice I’ve never managed before, like I’ve unlocked a secret level of my vocal cords) ‘But it’s my birthday.’ (Depressing but true.) Midwife: ‘It’s labour ward – it’s always someone’s birthday.

Having buck teeth in junior high,” she rounded up unsteadily, “must be ideal preparation for getting old. For pretty people, aging is a dumb shock. It’s like, what’s going on? Why doesn’t anyone smile at me at checkout anymore? But it won’t be a shock for me. It’ll be, oh that. That again. Teeth.

Aaron Copland, whom Bernstein had met when he was in his junior year at Harvard and who would become a lifelong friend and mentor, wrote him encouraging letters. “Don’t expect miracles,” Copland advised the young man, “and don’t get depressed if nothing happens for a while. That’s NY.” But on August 25, 1943, his twenty-fifth birthday, Bernstein got his first professional break when Artur Rodzinski, then the music director of the New York Philharmonic, chose him to become his conducting assistant. “I have gone through all the conductors I know of in my mind,” Rodzinski explained to his new assistant, “and I finally asked God whom I should take, and God said, ‘Take Bernstein.

I review her back on the ward in the evening and on leafing through her notes I see that her birthday is in two days’ time and she’ll most likely still be in hospital. I commiserate, despite the fact that I, too, will very likely be in a hospital for every single one of my birthdays until I’m too weak to blow out the candles, but she tells me that Jehovah’s Witnesses don’t celebrate birthdays or even receive presents.

Activity pouch on airplanes Buttons and pins Crayons and coloring place mats from restaurants Disposable sample cup from the grocery store Erasers and pencils with eraser tops Fireman hat from a visit to the fire station Goodie bags from county fairs and festivals Hair comb from picture day at school Infant goods from the maternity ward Junior ranger badge from the ranger station and Smokey the Bear Kids’ meal toys Lollipops and candy from various locations, such as the bank Medals and trophies for simply participating in (versus winning) a sporting activity Noisemakers to celebrate New Year’s Eve OTC samples from the doctor’s office Party favors and balloons from birthday parties Queen’s Jubilee freebies (for overseas travelers) Reusable plastic “souvenir” cup and straw from a diner Stickers from the doctor’s office Toothbrushes and floss from the dentist’s office United States flags on national holidays Viewing glasses for a 3-D movie (why not keep one pair and reuse them instead?) Water bottles at sporting events XYZ, etc.: The big foam hand at a football or baseball game or Band-Aids after a vaccination or various newspapers, prospectuses, and booklets from school, museums, national parks . . .

Entertaining is a way of life for the Southern girl. We’ve been doing it for over three hundred years now, and we’re not too shy to say we’re just about the best in the world at it. There really doesn’t have to be an occasion to entertain in the South. Just about any excuse will do, from the anniversary of your friend’s divorce (a “comfort” party) to national flag day (Southern girls are always eager to show the flag the respect it’s due). Parties in the South have always been big affairs. In pre--Civil War days, it was a long way between plantations on bad roads (or no roads at all), so parties lasted for days on end. The hostess spared no expense, with lavish dances, beautiful dresses, and meals that went on and on, with all the best dishes the South had to offer: from whole roast pig to wild game stew. After all, plantation parties were a circuit. You might go to twenty parties a year, but you were only going to throw one--so you better make it memorable, darlin’. Grits work hard to keep this tradition alive. The Junior League and Debutante balls are not just coming out parties for our daughters, god bless them, they are the modern version of old Southern plantation balls. The same is true of graduation, important birthdays, yearly seasonal galas, and of course our weddings.

apprentice, but to Obi-Wan, it was confirmation that he would become a Jedi Knight. And if anyone appreciated the opportunity to become a Jedi, it was Obi-Wan. Less than a year earlier, when he was still just a few weeks shy of his thirteenth birthday, he was nearly convinced that no Jedi Knight or Master would ever choose him as an apprentice. But those days were behind him now. The Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn, with some encouragement from Master Yoda, had taken Obi-Wan as his Padawan. Granted, they had gotten off to a rough start, and it only became rougher when Obi-Wan temporarily renounced the Jedi Order to join the revolution on the planet Melida/

If you can cast a fifth-tier spell before your eighteenth birthday, no matter how you got there, you’re qualified to be a junior squire.

Renesme Fractures Nickname: Ness or Ren girl age: 16 Junior black hair rainbow eyes Heterosexual Personality: Fun, smart, but quiet, sticks to drawing and her books. siblings: deceased Parents: deceased father: power of storm mother: power of fire Wolf shifter Powers: to summon and control fire, earth, and storm. Familiar: wolf named luca Loves art, reading, and music History: Lost her parents and brothers when she was 5, she was the youngest of 5. In foster care til she got a letter on her birthday inviting her here completely paid for. Luca appeared when she 5 shortly after she lost here family. She also skipped 7th grade. Friends: Comet Royce Relationship: (Saved for Cameron Augustine)

he sang dramatically, “Happy birthday, Anna, I love you!

Cocooned in his pillowy red snowsuit, Steve came whisking down the hallway, his overstuffed school bag flopping between his shoulder blades. Though he wasn’t a big fan of school, the little guy was excited about it today. His junior kindergarten teacher always made a fuss about the kids’ birthdays, and Steve had been chattering about it all morning.

The world is lit by pink and blue birthday candles. Your heart is a three-tiered white-frosted cake studded with Junior Mints.

That June, in the summer before my senior year in high school, I reported to Scripps as a junior trainee for a series of three excursions. I celebrated my 17th birthday at sea. Our initial work was part of a study looking at why sardines—immortalized in John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row—had disappeared off the California coast.

Junior is the best fighter out of all my siblings,” Gilly said. “He’s won the Dragon Port Invitational Arms Competition for three years running.” He gave a serrated grin, “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.” “He also has a habit of getting drunk and taking a shit in the garden,” she continued blithely. For a split second, I was afraid Cresis was going to have a stroke. Garlin dryly chuckled. Junior just laughed. “You do something twice --” “Three times,” Gilly countered. “I heard about Uncle Marth’s birthday party.

Who was I? I played so many roles: daughter, friend, babysitter, runner, girlfriend. I'd been proud when I was elected team captain, but now I wondered who my teammates had thought they'd voted for. And who my classmates had thought they'd elected Homecoming Queen. Sam had said that I was someone who smiled at people in the hallways. In my birthday card just a month ago, Vee had thanked me for always being there to listen. My junior yearbook had been full of notes using words like nice and sweet. But if that was who I was, how had people turned on me so quickly? Take away the people around me and who was I? Just another smiling face? There had to be more.

James settled down to the film. He got a shock when he noticed Nicole and Junior had their arms around each other and an even bigger one a minute later when they started snogging. They were all over each other. Nicole’s leg was up in the air and James kept getting kicked. He got up and moved down two seats so he was sitting on the opposite side of April, away from any flailing limbs. “They’re getting on well,” April grinned. She grinned for a long time. James watched half a minute of the film and she was still grinning at him. He realized the girls had planned an ambush. Nicole already knew Junior fancied her because he’d asked her out before. James felt like he’d been hooked on a line and reeled in, but he checked April out and realized that as traps go, it wasn’t a bad one. April was decent-looking, with long brown hair and fit legs. James slid his hand under the armrest and put it on top of April’s. She twisted in her seat, so she could rest her head on James’s shoulder. James turned around, breathed April’s smell and kissed her on the cheek while she grabbed a few of his Maltesers. They stayed that way for a couple of minutes, until April moved away and blew chocolate breath over him. “So,” she whispered. “Are you gonna snog me or what?” James figured, “What the hell, it’s my birthday.” They snogged for ten minutes, breaking up when the movie got near the end and turned into a big car chase and punch-up that was actually worth watching.

45. Remember that advanced placement doesn’t necessarily have to mean early graduation. Our two older children were talented in math and science, and easily completed more than the required number of secondary credits in sciences and humanities well before their peers. We drove our oldest son two hours away to live in a dorm at a state university the week before his 18th birthday, and our second-born graduated from high school when she was 15. Her college adviser mapped a plan where she could have finished her PhD in nursing by the time she was 21! Academically, they were fine. But socially and emotionally, it was tough to transition to the rigors of full-time college life (even junior college) one or two years before their traditionally-schooled friends. Because of that, their younger brother, a scholar in his own right, was not given the option to graduate early. Although he was frustrated with this limitation, it has alleviated a lot of pressure the other kids were forced to deal with before they had reached appropriate emotional maturity.

There is no question that Master Alighieri’s work is a faithful account of a proper institution. The inscription, “All hope abandon, ye who enter in!” is reprinted in colour in every volume of institutional art history—not merely because gate inscriptions are among the discipline’s most characteristic styles of opus framing. Far beyond that, the appearance of this institution marks a moment akin to Bach’s transformation of composition or Shakespeare’s of the plot. For institutional arts, there is a definitive “before” and “after” the sombre gate flung open. On that point, our correspondent was correct. But, Wholly Spiders, what of the dating? If a 29th-century poet fancied to rhyme a verse about the Nile, should we date the river’s origin to the birthday of his poem? Did the ticket booths of the Ministry of Dreams emptied for the first time only in 2024, when our modest account was published? More bizarre ideas are difficult to encounter. Hasn’t the institution faithfully recorded by the Florentine poet been in operation ever since that poor fool, Adam, failed to exercise independent judgement? To evidence that this occurred well before 1321 is a typical assignment, an average junior historian handles with ease by their second year of study.