It's hard to say whether she's shallow or not. Most people seem shallow most of the time. It's even shallow to talk about whether another person might be shallow.

But, and we don't talk often, I'm left with the same impression again and again. Nothing breaks it.

She asked whether I ever go to Starbuck's. Does she know what a red flag that is for me? With a straight face, I say that I'm not a coffee drinker but I like their hot chocolate. She claims to go there every morning for her coffee. Can that be literally possible ... for her ... for anyone?

She wants a new car. She's bored with her car. She rattled off her previous makes: Lexus, Mercedes, Volvo ... she would try BMW next. She flipped through Glamour as we visited. No one would ever wear that in Manhattan, she attested. Influenced by the teenage model, I said that I could see a young person wearing it. Did I say the wrong thing?

She asked whether my sons are involved on sports teams. No. Her daughter has joined cheerleading.

She said that there's a stigma in moving to New Jersey from New York, from Long Island. I know of New Jersey's negative image; I am also from New York.

Jeff says she's a consumer. Well, we all are. She's a conspicuous consumer, then.

Is it better to hide consumption like some twisted addiction? Most everyone has their indulgences but she isn't guilted by hers. She enjoys hers.

It's usually when I allow myself to enjoy life's pleasures that my husband announces that he may be out of a job soon.

So, I've learned to sneak them: some new books or clothes for the kids. Because if I ever catch myself saying, "This is ok. We can afford this", the roof caves in.

Pure, Irish Melancholy ... or is this what Lewis meant when he was surprised by joy?