October 14, 2014
Please indicate your highest education level
I have issues. I mean, this is not news to anyone who knows me, but the issues that I’m talking about go beyond my normal insanity. As if garden-variety craziness isn’t enough.
• • •
October 13, 2014
Do elephants lay eggs?
• • •
October 10, 2014
A little tune-up
When we bought Zoe’s piano last year, it came with a tuning upon delivery, and one for a month or two later, after it acclimated to our house. Which I think is funny since we had been in the house for eight months and we were still acclimating ourselves.
• • •
October 9, 2014
Where I confess my drinking problem
I have a problem that I think might be shared with other
writers who spend much of their days at a desk, pecking away at a keyboard. I
tend to accumulate a lot of drinks (non-alcoholic, mind you), or drink-holders (i.e. cups and mugs and bottles and the like), at my desk throughout the
course of a day. Usually by the end of a single day at my desk I have a used
coffee cup, an empty can of sparkling water, and a plastic water bottle. At
minimum, I have at least three different drinks on my desk. Sometimes there is
more.
• • •
October 8, 2014
Sometimes I do know what to write, but it’s all fragmented
I knew what to write this morning. I had two great ideas.
And then I came to work, and worked, and got busy, and learned that I have a
new cousin, and now I can’t remember what I was going to write.
• • •
October 7, 2014
What happens when I don’t know what to write
I don’t know what to write.
I don’t know what to write.
I DO NOT FUCKING KNOW WHAT TO WRITE.
And therein lies the problem. I want to write. I want to
write oh so badly. But the words…they aren’t coming. Or rather, the words would
come (they always come) if I just knew what to write about.
write oh so badly. But the words…they aren’t coming. Or rather, the words would
come (they always come) if I just knew what to write about.
I started trying to write about me and my mother, and I got
a lot out, but then I waffled on whether to publish it on the blog and in the
end I was a huge pansy and decided not to. Or in one case, I published it, laid
awake for two hours, then got up in the middle of the night and took it down.
Wimp.
a lot out, but then I waffled on whether to publish it on the blog and in the
end I was a huge pansy and decided not to. Or in one case, I published it, laid
awake for two hours, then got up in the middle of the night and took it down.
Wimp.
I have about forty women coming to my house this evening.
They are women who served on the retreat team with me, and women who came to
the retreat as guests. It will be a wonderful night. And I will run around
panicked right before they arrive, making sure clean hand towels are in the
downstairs bath, and the blankets neatly stacked on the floor in that bathroom
waiting for the next storm siren are removed. And in those few hours of rushing
around trying to get ready for my guests I will not think continually about writing.
It will hover under the surface, though. Pulsing.
They are women who served on the retreat team with me, and women who came to
the retreat as guests. It will be a wonderful night. And I will run around
panicked right before they arrive, making sure clean hand towels are in the
downstairs bath, and the blankets neatly stacked on the floor in that bathroom
waiting for the next storm siren are removed. And in those few hours of rushing
around trying to get ready for my guests I will not think continually about writing.
It will hover under the surface, though. Pulsing.
This weekend is Homecoming at the school where I work. The
student council is sponsoring a bunch of fun themes each day this week. Today
is Hawaiian Shirt Day. The faculty and staff are much more interested in this
than the students. Nearly all of us are sporting some sort of Hawaiian shirt. A
relatively small percentage of the student population is participating.
Thursday is Steve Jobs Day, where we are all supposed to wear black turtlenecks
and “dad jeans.” I am curious to see whether this will go over better than
Hawaiian Shirt Day.
student council is sponsoring a bunch of fun themes each day this week. Today
is Hawaiian Shirt Day. The faculty and staff are much more interested in this
than the students. Nearly all of us are sporting some sort of Hawaiian shirt. A
relatively small percentage of the student population is participating.
Thursday is Steve Jobs Day, where we are all supposed to wear black turtlenecks
and “dad jeans.” I am curious to see whether this will go over better than
Hawaiian Shirt Day.
I saw a black bug in the women’s restroom yesterday. It was
smaller than a cockroach. Maybe it was a baby cockroach, although I don’t think
so because it didn’t have those disgustingly long antennae that give me the
willies. I almost squashed it, but at the last minute thought, “Meh, he’s not
hurting anyone.” I left him be. Then I realized that he really had no place to
go. He was wandering up and down the tile where the floor meets the wall, which
is the same kind of white, square tile only it’s curved instead of flat. He
kept trying to climb up the corner, then would go back down the wall after
learning he couldn’t go up. I thought about what it must looks like from his
perspective. A sea of white, square tile in every direction. It’s a
surprisingly large bathroom even for a human. Lots of wasted space. For a bug
it’s a universe. I wondered where he came from, and if he’d eventually find his
way back. Later, I had to use the bathroom again and found that someone else
squashed him, right there where the floor meets the wall with the same white,
square tile that is curved instead of flat.
smaller than a cockroach. Maybe it was a baby cockroach, although I don’t think
so because it didn’t have those disgustingly long antennae that give me the
willies. I almost squashed it, but at the last minute thought, “Meh, he’s not
hurting anyone.” I left him be. Then I realized that he really had no place to
go. He was wandering up and down the tile where the floor meets the wall, which
is the same kind of white, square tile only it’s curved instead of flat. He
kept trying to climb up the corner, then would go back down the wall after
learning he couldn’t go up. I thought about what it must looks like from his
perspective. A sea of white, square tile in every direction. It’s a
surprisingly large bathroom even for a human. Lots of wasted space. For a bug
it’s a universe. I wondered where he came from, and if he’d eventually find his
way back. Later, I had to use the bathroom again and found that someone else
squashed him, right there where the floor meets the wall with the same white,
square tile that is curved instead of flat.
• • •
October 3, 2014
The mess
Two people I love are dying, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
• • •
September 27, 2014
A sign…or many, actually
I gave a speech today on values. It was about 22 minutes long and it came with a reflection song at the end and a list of four discussion questions that I heard sparked much animated talk (speakers are sent off to pray and reflect themselves after their talks so we don’t get to participate in the group discussion). It was much like the talk I gave at the last retreat, only that one was on forgiveness. Two very different stories.
• • •
September 25, 2014
The calm before…
Serving on a retreat team this weekend and I have a few moments to be still and reflect before our guests arrive. My form of reflection is to write.
Things I’ve done today:
• • •
September 24, 2014
The Bargeman
I stopped by Target on the way to work this morning, to pick up some last-minute supplies for the retreat I’m on this weekend (we’re to wear, under our really sexy denim oxfords with the retreat logo stitched on the breast, a white t-shirt the first day, a blue t-shirt the second day, and a red t-shirt the third day. I had none. Well, at least none that are short sleeved and didn’t have Corvette graphics plastered all over.). After I checked out with my new t-shirts and a couple bottles of laundry detergent for delicates, I headed over to the Starbucks kiosk. I stood in line behind two Catholic school girls in plaid skirts and a little old man in a plaid button-down and jeans, catching up on emails and texts on my phone. The girls finished with their order and left, giggling. The man turned to me and said, “I bet you’re going to work after this.” I smiled, “I am!” He said, “I understand people who have to go to work. Why don’t you go first?” I tried to refuse, but he was having none of it. “I’m good,” he said. “I just float around.”
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