Names on a Map: A Novel (P.S.)

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If it had been anybody else. He pulls me to his side. Peter loves attention, and I hate to be another girl who gives it to him, but he makes it really hard sometimes. Besides, it was kind of romantic. He plants a kiss on my cheek, nuzzles against my face. I beg off the lacrosse party I was supposed to go to with Peter tonight. It is an activity that requires very little from you—you just follow the directions, and then at the end you have created something.

From ingredients to an actual dessert. Poof, deliciousness. I push the window up. What are you doing here? He buries his head in my stomach like a little boy. I sink down on the bed next to him and put my head on his shoulder. I hope the minutes go slow. He slides his arm around me, safe and secure.

This is brand-new. I shove him in the shoulder. He snuggles his chin into the hollow between my neck and my shoulder. I want to close my eyes but I keep them trained on my clock. At the fifteen-minute mark, I sit up so fast he jumps. I clap him on the shoulder. She shrugs. The residents have figured out Netflix. Like, more special? Just simple little touches will make all the difference. Like we could make a jacket mandatory for the men. Janette is thinking this all sounds like too much trouble, I can tell.

That would make it feel even more special. Build the anticipation and then really do it right. Leave it all to me. Before I can remind her of this, she goes on. I fucking hate those groupies. Like a band? Oh my God, I would be so good at being a groupie for an actual, important band. Like being a muse, you know?

Hey, do you want to drive to DC tomorrow night and see this band Felt Tip? A, my dad would never let me go to DC on a school night. C, I have a feeling Felt Tip is not my kind of music. Is it my kind of music? We settle onto the floor and get down to the business of manis. Chris grabs one of my gold nail pens and starts painting tiny stars on her thumbnail. Who are you talking to here? What if we started doing manicures at Belleview? The residents would love that. You could think of it like community service but not mandatory. Out of the goodness of your heart. Their hands get really gnarled.

Toes, too. The nails get thick and. Get your booty in here! I was in the middle of something. Chris counts with her fingers. Then she sighs a wistful sigh. I would be amazing at bossing her around. Kitty used to look up to Genevieve, too. She was sort of in awe of her. Everything all right? Chris peers at me. Are you still stressing over your sex tape? Lucky me! The kind who breaks hearts and the kind who gets her heart broken.

One guess as to which kind of girl Stormy is. I have several piles going. Stormy: the early years; her teenagehood; her first, second, and fourth weddings—no pictures from her third wedding, because they eloped. I think she forgot to pencil them in today. I mull this over. Drive-in on Friday with Burt and cotillion with Sam on Saturday. We kept our options open. Otherwise what was the point in ending all the fun? A glint in his eye.

About your age. She taps her red fingernail on the picture. We all called him Walt. He was a real charmer. It was quite the scandale. I got to ride home in a police car in nothing but a blanket. Then I tell her about the hot tub, and the video, and all the fallout. I have to explain to her what a meme is. A girl with a reputation is so much more interesting than a Goody Two-shoes. The Internet is forever. And also, I kind of am a Goody Two-shoes. I mean, really, every Friday night at a nursing home! Excuse my French, darling.

My son Stanley is a frightful bore. Not that I had any say in it. My mother-in-law insisted we name him after her dead husband. Good Lord, she was a crone. You and I, we have that in common. I was hoping you were getting into trouble. Sounds like I was right.

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We could use some fresh blood around here. Give the place a jolt. Is he handsome?

Stormy claps her hands together. Give me advance notice, though, so I look my absolute best. Who else have you got waiting in the wings? I told you, I have a boyfriend. I open my mouth to say no thank you, but she waves me off with a shh. Or Stormy Weather. Picture it, Lara Jean. You in a tuxedo. Me in a slinky red dress draped over the piano. Morales a heart attack.

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Maybe just a tremor. Kennedy died. I was baking a pineapple upside-down cake for my bridge club. I put it in the oven and then I saw the news and I forgot all about the cake and nearly burned the house down. We had to have the kitchen repainted because of all the soot. A prince.

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You know, I flirted with a Kennedy once at an airport. He sidled up to me at the bar and bought me a very dry gin martini. Airports used to be so very much more glamorous. People got dressed up to travel. He had the Kennedy chin, anyway. Stormy and her escapades. Just make sure you get the rings and not the chunks. I try to nod in a diplomatic way, but Stormy is onto me. Get me some Tylenol PM, would you? Covertly, I throw the banana in the trash. Is there anywhere else it could be? I want a cocktail.

Morales, who I think has a crush on Stormy. Or Alicia. Very romantic. Did you ever meet Hemingway? With my black felt tip calligraphy pen, she writes descriptions in Japanese underneath each picture. Alicia smiles. Alicia never left his side. I quickly go over to the speakers and turn up the volume to lighten the mood. Stormy points at me with her hot-pink manicured nail. He visits with me every Sunday. Margot, probably.

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Where does that leave me, the middle Song girl? I wish I could know for sure. Margot might. But if, say, they were both drowning and I could only throw one a life jacket, it would probably have to be Kitty. Margot would never forgive me otherwise. I have bags of cookie dough in the freezer, frozen into perfect cylindrical balls so that when any of us gets a taste for cookies, we can have them in twenty minutes flat. We are at Starbucks doing homework after school.

I dump two raw sugar packets into my plastic cup and stir it all up with my straw. I take a long sip, and sugar granules crunch satisfyingly against my teeth. Like one night Burt might take you to a drive-in movie, and the next night Walter might take you to a sock hop or something.

It was on TV last night. Never mind. So do you want to go on dates with other guys? I just. I think it would be cool to bring back casual dating. You said yourself how you hated how serious it got with Genevieve. I want to still be friends no matter what. What did I say? No girl wants to hear what he just said. No girl. Are you mad? I hesitate. The clouds in his face clear away instantly, and he is sunny and bright again. He gulps at his tea. You just get it. He leaves a little earlier for school now, comes home a little later.

He never reached out to me when all the video stuff happened either, though part of me was relieved for that. I back out my driveway, and at the last second I open the window and lean toward it. His eyes widen in surprise. You only know you can do something if you keep on doing it. Just tell me so I have a general idea.

But you and Margot have been broken up less than a month. She decided she wanted to get back together three weeks ago, and I said no. Was it just the distance? The biggest know-it-all I ever met, besides my sister. He really is. Who is she talking to? Not Peter. Her friends Emily and Judith burst out the doors then, and she abruptly hangs up. They exchange a look. Are you waiting for Kavinsky? Why did I nod? What is wrong with me? He slides onto the bench beside me and slings his arm around my shoulders. Peter yelps and jumps away from me.

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I let him buy me a hot chocolate and I even share it with him. I take off my headphones and pick it up. What about you? I just called to say good night. I guess I never thought of it. Do you want me to? You put it in the contract. You said that Genevieve insisted that she be your last call every night, and it was annoying. Also, why is your memory so good?

You remember everything. Someone from the hospital, probably. Whoever it is, this sounds like a good thing. As soon as he leaves, I turn to Kitty, who is lying on the couch watching TV and licking the sour off sour gummies. Jamie lies asleep next to her. Would you be okay with that? So you can quit making your concerned-big-sister face at me, all right? I change the subject. With spikes. A treadmill. Scratch the treadmill. I also want night-vision goggles. A tartan kilt. What else. Loch Ness monster paraphernalia. A Loch Ness T-shirt. Maybe a glow-in-the-dark poster.

I went to the symphony with my colleague Marjorie. Any interest, Lara Jean? I make myself a stack of snickerdoodles, and I run up to my room and sit down at my desk. I start drafting a profile. I start going through the photos of him on my computer. There are hardly any of him alone. The dim dining room light makes him look hardly wrinkled at all, just some crinkles around the eyes. Which reminds me: I should get on him about wearing sunscreen every day. I make a note of it in my Reminders. Daddy is only in his early forties.

We got out all the paints and craft supplies, and Grandma got annoyed because there was a big mess to clean in the kitchen, colors dripping all over the floor, handprints everywhere. We have a picture of Mommy standing underneath the sign holding Kitty that very first day, eyes tired but bright. For breakfast I make her a muenster-cheese omelet.

With a ketchup bottle I squeeze out a cat face with a heart around it. I take out the paper hats and put one on my head, jauntily to the side. A Brie sandwich and chips, plus a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting. Kitty delights in the place settings and in her cat face omelet. I glance at the clock. Waiting for us on the street in front of his car is Peter with a bouquet of cellophane-wrapped pink carnations.

Hurry and get in the car. Gallantly, he opens the door for her. He shuts it and turns and winks at me. He calls it the house specialty. Usually a potato in some form as the side. Chutney for Margot if she were here. We both look at Daddy, who is checking on the chicken. Well, I know she liked balsamic vinegar. A lot. A lot a lot. Avocados, with butter on toast, tomatoes, steak. Facts about M.

Kitty springs into action. She comes back with Ms. Rothschild from across the street. Her mahogany brown hair is half up, half down. Rothschild lets out an awkward laugh. Kitty invited me when she was over with Jamie today. Rothschild says, giving her a look, which Kitty pretends not to see. Rothschild sticks her knee out and Jamie settles down immediately. Daddy and I exchange an impressed look. Clearly Jamie needs to continue under Ms. All of that does sound good. Plus she lives across the street, which is convenient.

Rothschild watches documentaries? He can watch them with you or Margot. The important thing is chemistry. Personally, I like the thigh. When Ms. I make note of the way Ms. I also appreciate the way she goes wild for my snickerdoodles. I threw some frozen ones in the oven when Daddy put the coffee on. I know my strengths, and baking is not one of them. She only shows up for the fun parts, the decorating and eating. I sneak a look at Daddy, who is placidly sipping his coffee. I sigh.

We all do the washing up and wrapping up of leftovers together, and it feels very natural. Without anyone telling her, Ms. Rothschild knows to hand-wash the wineglasses and not put them in the dishwasher, and on the first try she finds the aluminum foil and plastic wrap drawer. I think I could see her fitting in with us pretty seamlessly. And, as I said, she does live across the street, which is convenient. As soon as Ms. She has Jamie Fox-Pickle in her arms.

I mean, did you think he seemed interested? Daddy hates that. You think so? She seems pretty nice. Remember how she and her ex-husband used to get into those screaming matches in their yard?

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He needs to be with someone mature, someone with wisdom in her eyes. A grandma? If so, I know a few from Belleview I could set him up with. She should be sophisticated, but also enjoy nature and hiking and that kind of thing. Keep him active, physically and mentally. If Ms. And at Thanksgiving, Grandma was bugging him about dating more. Gogo, I hate to think of him being lonely. Rothschild plays out? Does that mean she dresses too young or I dress too old? Red tartan, maybe with a big safety pin button?

Actually, the four of us. He can put his money where his mouth is. I met a cute boy. Does he have a posh accent? We both giggle. Wish me luck. I like seeing Margot like this, so light and happy and unserious.

Lipid classification

Point one for Kitty. You needed my little push. You know you did it out of spite. The neck is my weak spot, which everyone in my family knows. I fall to my knees, laughing so hard it hurts. My first impulse is to say no, but maybe we would have kept going down different paths and converged at some other fork in the road. She was the only one to show up for Scrapbooking to the Oldies today, so we moved it over to her apartment.

All the better. I like him in sweaters. I get the urge to cuddle and pet him like a stuffed animal. Stormy looks at it closely. My grandson looks like a young Robert Redford. Any other grandmother at Belleview would already have a picture of her beloved grandson on display. Framed, above the TV or on the mantel.

Not Stormy. The only pictures she has framed are pictures of herself. Though I suppose if I was once that beautiful, I would want to show it off too. She puts her legs up on the ottoman. Not that I even have much juice to offer her. She starts to cut up some trimmings. Ken Newbery. He drove a Chevy Impala. God, the thrill of a boy putting his hands on you for the first time. We should do something with those, too. I get a shivery feeling in my stomach. I do know that thrill.

Boys think with their you-know-whats. Nothing of significance changes for the boy. All those boys are worthless. A lady always brings her own. Every man that ever got to touch me was afforded an honor. A privilege. Not just any young fool can approach the throne. Remember my words, Lara Jean. You decide who, how far, and how often, if ever. Really, Lara Jean! All it means is that you believe men and women are equal, and should have equal rights. In fact you should probably be writing it down for my memoirs.

But I see now how fast things can change without you even realizing it. And then the next second I want to grow up faster, more, now. To be as ready as everyone else is. How is everyone else so ready? I still find it very surprising, having a boy in my personal space. I still get nervous when he puts his arm around my waist or reaches for my hand.

I want something different. During the submission process, structures are validated for uniqueness using a search on the current database. Questions regarding the submission of structures should be submitted via our Contact page. The main differences involve a clarification of the use of core structures to simplify systematic naming of some of the more complex lipids, and b provision of systematic names for recently discovered lipid classes. Key features of our lipid nomenclature scheme are as follows: a The use of the stereospecific numbering sn method to describe glycerolipids and glycerophospholipids.

In molecules containing stereochemistries other than the 2S,3R configuration, the full systematic names are to be used instead e. The exceptions are those describing substituents on glycerol sn and sterol core structures, and anomeric carbons on sugar residues. By default, R stereochemistry at the C2 carbon of glycerol and attachment of the headgroup at the sn3 position. For molecules with opposite S stereochemistry at C2 of the glycerol group and attachment of the headgroup at the sn1 position, the stereochemistry specification of [S] is appended to the abbreviation.

For molecules with unknown stereochemistry at the C2 carbon of the glycerol group, the stereochemistry specification of [U] is appended to the abbreviation and the structure is drawn with C2 stereochemistry unspecified. The same rules apply to the headgroup classes within the Glycerophospholipids category. Boston: Addison-Wesley. Better Software Magazine : 16—22, User story mapping. Retrieved 8 February Agile Advice. Retrieved 29 April Mountain Goat Software. Retrieved 27 April Mountain Goat Software blog.

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Views Read Edit View history. By using this site, you agree to the Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. Artificial intelligence Computer science Electrical and electronics engineering. Generally formulated in users' everyday language. They should help the reader understand what the software should accomplish. Written in users' everyday business language, to facilitate stakeholder communications.

Provide a small-scale and easy-to-use presentation of information, with little detail, thus remaining open to interpretation, through conversations with on-site customers. Use cases organize requirements to form a narrative of how users relate to and use a system. Hence they focus on user goals and how interacting with a system satisfies the goals. A use case is intended to provide sufficient detail for it to be understood on its own. Title: "goal the use case is trying to satisfy" Main Success Scenario: numbered list of steps Step: "a simple statement of the interaction between the actor and a system" Extensions: separately numbered lists, one per Extension Extension: "a condition that results in different interactions from..

An extension from main step 3 is numbered 3a, etc.