I had a lovely lunch today...in my room...with my best girlfriend...getting some last minute work done...with nothing to eat because I forgot to bring a lunch. It wasn't all that bad because I had just inhaled some Fig Newtons a few hours earlier. So we spent our thirty minutes swapping stories of what crappy moods we were both in yesterday and venting about the injustices of being thirty-ish and either unmarried or childless. (Ironically...or not so ironically...they are evoke similar emotions.) I hate feeling this way--edgy and irritable. A look...a mishap...a dog drooling on my leg...dropping a washcloth coming out of the dryer...not finding anything decent on t.v....can send me into a tailspin from which I swear I can never recover. The truth is that when my petunias die because I failed to water them, I really want to cry. But I feel silly crying over dead petunias, so instead, I stomp around the house, madly scrub the tub, and say "what?" when I answer the telephone

So I’ve added to my “about me” list this obsession for foreign films. It all started back in my college Spanish class when I first viewed “Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown.” This was later followed by “Run Lola Run.” The love affair was rekindled several months ago when I found a copy of “Lucia, Lucia” in Big Lots for $2. Foreign films carry a different perspective on life than American films. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve seen one. They have a way of wrapping around your brain and not letting go. I had an idea several months ago to start a foreign film festival in my livingroom. My television loves the idea. It gives it a purpose for more than just football season (and I DO love my football!). So, today, Nadia and I parked ourselves on the couch surrounded by four dogs and read subtitles until we were cross-eyed. We watched Tortilla Soup, Good-Bye Lenin, Sexo, Pudor y Lagrimas, and Hable con Ella. Each was good…each was unique…each left an imprint on me. My afte

Part of teaching 8th grade, I'm told, is that I am required to do a unit on the WW2 Holocaust. I put this off until the very end of the year because I had a difficult time deciding just how to present the topic in an unbiased way. The heart of my teaching method is showing my students how to find facts in emotionally charged arguments and form their opinions based on the facts. I finally decided to let them read "The Diary of Anne Frank." The play presents a perfect opportunity to discuss how dramatizations are adapted. We've watched interviews with survivors and will be reading some of Anne's essays that are not part of the diary. Next week we will wrap it all up with a exploration of genocide around the world and more discussions about free speech. We all really needed a break the last few days; this topic is draining. Yesterday and today I showed them the black and white "Diary of Anne Frank" movie. You know the one. I have quite a personal history wi

My school is the zoned school for our local children’s home. I actually tried to get a job there before I started teaching, but it wasn’t meant to be. Instead, I’ve worked with several of the kids in the classroom. They are interesting children from some challenging backgrounds. Some have been placed long-term by parents who could not or would not accept the responsibility of parenting. Others are there temporarily due to parental abuse or neglect or incarceration. Still more are living their lives in a group home, waiting for adoptions that may never happen because the parents wait too long to relinquish their rights. It’s a rough life. Many of the children there have learning disabilities and emotional handicaps that impair their ability to function in society. They struggle with learning and practicing what most of us find routine and this results in a world where physical fights abound, the meal table is a battlefield, and the question, “Is it my turn to go home yet?” hover

In the middle of my discussion with my therapist today, I blurted out, “I just want to enjoy my life.” He looked at me, slightly stunned (not an unusual look for him when he talks with me…I tend to be witty and charming there), and asked, “You’ve never really had the chance, have you?” This was my turn to look stunned (not an usual look for me there). I looked around the room, searching my brain for an answer. My reply was feeble, “no.” I’ve always felt this need to push myself…a “set a goal and drain the life from you body to reach it” mentality. When I finally made it home, I pulled out my old journals and started reading. Journals are interesting creatures. I’ve used them to vent…to sort out ideas…to record my food for the day. What struck me was how often I wrote about wanting to live and experience life…and my frustration at not doing just that. I’ve sucked some marrow out of my life. Although few and far between, I see those moments in North American travels…front porch

My dear friend Becky posted a blog that has me thinking this morning. (You can read her blog and my comments here.) I’m thinking back to the recent bomb threat and full evacuation at my school. I had no problem jumping in, corralling students, rising above the pain in my feet from walking miles in heels, and still being able to laugh in the midst of that chaos. When three hurricanes cut across my state just a few miles from where I live, I methodically dealt with FEMA and our insurance company, dragged tree limbs away from my yard, and stoically lived through 10 days in August with no electricity at my house. I’ve battled with the state mental health system to get treatment for my bipolar mother while simultaneously working through my first year of marriage, finishing my bachelor’s degree, and working full-time. Oh, I know how to deal with the crap life slings at me sometimes. Yet, something like misreading a sign and discovering at the checkout register that I just purchased

I read somewhere about taking a photo each day and keeping track of the year that way. I think I even posted about that on here. Although I know I probably won't get around to this each day, I do want to take more photos. In that thought, I created a new Photo of the Day blog. Check it out. Frabjous Photos

When did I miss the day God was bestowing upon us the ability to read minds? I've been trudging through a fog lately, desperately trying to figure out when reality shifted and we were all suddenly accountable for not knowing the inner workings of someone's mind. Too few of us understand what the hell is running around in our OWN minds! I look at the Virginia Tech shooting, the bomb threat at my school, my incommunicado relative, mandates passed on to me by state lawmakers and parents, and even my own chastisements for myself. The bells all sound the same tune: why didn't you do something before it was too late? You know, we all have limitations. Yet, we push and argue and berate and punish each other merely for being human. We all screw up. We all miss warning signals. We all fall short of the glory. Sigh. I know I'm being vague. There's just too much jumbled in my head for me to sort it all out in a short, readable post. Perhaps that's part of my fixation on th

This is pretty much how I've felt the last few days. I guess it's rough sometimes for Winnipeg, too!

You really are able to judge a man by his character during times of conflict. That's a scary thought considering how many of us respond to challenge. I have my own little habits that rear their ugly head when I'm stressed...and often even when I'm not stressed. Today started out as any other day, and things were looking a little hopeful. My team won field day. I had visions of completing and turning in lesson plans. They were not meant to be. During 3rd period this morning, the fire alarm went off, and I trotted out to the field muttering obsenities about how unfair it was to pull me away from my oh-so-productive planning time. (In case you failed to catch the drop of sarcasm there, just keep in mind that most of my co-workers thought I had gone off campus to get coffee when they couldn't find me.) By 3:00, we circled the fence of the school, walked on a traffic-stopped road to a nearby park, loaded 1800 middle schoolers on buses, dropped them off at a local high school

Text Message: We need *** to pay the bills this month. Phone call: "So when do we need the money by?" "Um, sometime before the end of the month." "Okay." "And you're giving me your credit cards, and I'm hiding them. We're a cash family now." "Okay." "And you're reading this book ." "Why?" "Because you need to know what this guy says. I agree with him." This is the part of life that I love and hate. I love the fact that I feel like I'm living purposefully. I have a goal. It terrifies the snot out of me because it means that I have to give up my weekly shopping sprees on shoes and hats and makeup. I will have to finally master the art of snipping away the dead skin around my toenails. There are worse consequences in life. I hate the fact that we had to reach this point for me to finally rouse the sleeping tiger within me to get some control over my life decisions. My tendency is to let peo

That's it. I'm dumping all my plans and ideas to push through some new legislation. It's time to make numbers easier to read. Who knew they were so confusing? Just go down to your local Wal-Mart and you can see first hand how those rascally numerical figures mix up the synapses in the brain. My Wal-Mart has 30 registers. At any given time, no more than 10 of them are open. Of the 10 that are open, 2 are for 20 items or less, and one is for 10 items or less. Still following me? I ran into Wal-Mart to pick up brackets for the shade I bought last week. I walked up to the registers with my $.87 item and scanned the battlefront. The 10 items or less lane seemed the most ideal for me, since I have the aforementioned 1 item in hand. I quickly counted on my fingers. Yes, less than 10. I am greeted by the backside of a woman and her son...and their shopping cart. One...two...seven...twenty-eight. Perhaps I was in the wrong line. I checked the sign above. "10 Items or Less. Ciga

He says: "You know, I had something that I never thought I'd like." She says: "Oh yeah?" He says: "Yes, sausage gravy and biscuits. " She thinks: "Okay, where is this coming from?" He says: "*** made them the other night for dinner." She thinks: "What? He pitches a fit when I make breakfast food for dinner!" He says: "You've made them, but these had more sausage in them." She thinks: "I can't believe him. He's complimenting her on the same food that he complains to me about!" She says: "Yeah, well, maybe you should have married ***." He says: "What's that supposed to mean?" She says: "Whatever you want it to mean!" She says: "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything because now I guess you'll stop talking to me because I might say something wrong like this again!" He says: "No."

I did manage to finally come up with the logo for my new website. It's been a good day today... * The corn is planted. * The herb garden is planted. * The garden walk now goes to the patio door. * My car is clean. * I managed to dry papaya strips. * We're having pizza for dinner.

Brace yourself! This may be most bumful day yet. Here are my accomplishments for the day: * Grocery shopping while the sun was up. * Remembering to take out the trash...and bring the cans back up. * Baking my own pita chips for lunch. * Reading the entire blogs of 2 total strangers in Michigan. * Creating the front page for my website. * Screwing up the front page for my website. * Giving up on web design for the day. * Writing a letter to my grandmother. * Taking several random online quizzes. * Packaging the extra copies of my short story to be mailed off. * Writing out tomorrow's to do list. * Updating my myspace profile. * Journaling. * Revitalizing leftovers for a dinner I ate myself. * Talking with some dear friends about my writing career. All in all, it was a beautiful day. My windows are still open, and the curtains are dancing in the breeze. The t.v. has been off, so I have focused on the sounds of the world (which mostly includes dog barks and lizards scurrying). Now I&#

I came across the man's blog while doing a search for a song. I've since bookmarked his page and check it from time to time. This particular entry really spoke to me, perhaps because I'm feeling similar pulls in my own life (and have for some time now). http://labairi.wordpress.com/2007/03/29/i-am-trying-to-break-your-heart/

For My Daughter Who Exists in My Dreams I've seen you in my dreams golden curls eyes like mine the color of the sky in summer I held you so close to me that I could smell the strawberry scented shampoo and soap and sweat lingering around your head I whispered that I love you and would protect you so you never have to be afraid of ghosts hiding in our history I cried for you in the darkness of the night when I was painfully aware of your absence from my life I dream of you still and the moment when I hope to finally see you face to face and realize a dream come true ©2007, A.B.

I'm totally exhausted after today! This is my backyard at noon today. This is my backyard at 5:00 today. Tomorrow I hope to finish this project. Here's what else I did. That's squash, peppers, and tomatoes...and I just realized I forgot to plant the corn! And I just felt the need for some petunias.

Waking up today, I discovered a rare event...I actually tried to force myself to sleep in! But I had a busy day planned, so I forced myself to peel away the layers of covers. I'm so glad I did...perhaps you are, too. I watched "The Plague" on The History Channel while I colored my hair. That was fascinating, believe it or not. Yes, I know I'm such a history geek. Then I tried on each of my new t-shirts before choosing my typical black shirt. I drove to Lakeland, drinking horchata on the way. It was worth the drive so I could see this little one... Rachel and I talked and laughed and I changed a diaper. Makaylah likes to sleep when I'm around (hmm...maybe I could hire myself out for somnambulists). So I held her and rocked her and watched her sleep. And Rachel and I talked. We seem to do that well. The time was too short, and I had to go visit with some dear old friends. We had a delightful time, swapping a few stories about our loved ones and getting caught up to

Okay, so I did take a few pictures today, but I don't feel like getting them off the camera right now. Although not as exciting as yesterday, this was still blissful. I woke up again with the sky bright with the sunrise. (This is delightful for me since I usually drive to work in the dark.) I realized that I needed some short sleeve t-shirts, so I stopped by my favorite GAP Outlet. I love this place. What's better than getting GAP t-shirts for $6 each? I washed the sheets from my bed, straightened around the house, put away my shoes and the clothes that were washed last week, played with the dogs, picked up my computer cord, listened to my iPod, talked to my mother and grandmother, and tried to find out what soap is best for eczema. I did manage to write 2500 words of my new short story. The working title is now, "In Search of Mandrakes." It's still evolving. The sisters are starting to reveal themselves to me. They are all faced with lives they wish were differe

I finally crawled into bed around 3 a.m... my muse giving way to my falling eyelids. I woke up to the sun shining through my bedroom window... ready to head to one of my favorite places--the beach. My camera was ready and batteries charged. I stretched out on my brand new plastic beach chair and watched the life around me These people were interesting because they held hands in the water. Even sun-bathing Nadia counts as life. We took a walk and collected shells and rocks and watched a fisherman reel in a striped fish. It was a long walk, and I would have snapped more shots, but my hands were overflowing with my sea treasures. The beach was a bit busier when we found our spot again. I moved my brand new plastic beach chair under my not so new green beach umbrella. Then it blew away and the guy one spot over interrupted his Jose Conseco (sp?) biography to help me put the umbrella together again. We laughed. And it was time to go. So we packed up. Ate a slice of pizza. Drove home. I ate

I'm diligently (at least for me) working on my current short story about the messiness of life. My muse for this story is a Rich Mullins tribute album, and so far, the story is taking the form of three songs from that album. Jacob and 2 Women , Calling Out Your Name, and If I Stand . (Perhaps I'll divulge their inspiration later.) These songs are stuck in my head, and as I've been singing them today, pieces of the story appear alongside them. I pulled out my old trusty CD player and CD (the iPod seemed inappropriate for this task), thinking that listening to them would be a stronger experience. Sure enough. It's so exciting to see the ideas finally piecing themselves together. As I listened to "Calling Out Your Name," I just burst into tears at the line, How the Lord takes by its corners this old world and shakes us forward and shakes us free to run wild with the hope. In that moment, just as sure as I was sitting in my livingroom, I was filled with an overw

I've been behind on posting anything here because I've had so many thoughts and ideas running through my mind that I wasn't able to effectively categorize them into posts. It finally dawned on me that I wasn't going to sort them, so I'll just make this my little "thought potpourri". Here goes... Pain . I'll start with the easy stuff. :) One of the more prominent thoughts I've been working through is the concept of pain. I look around me and see hurting people. Loss. Waiting. Wanting. Emptiness. It's funny how I can reduce the pain around me into one of these categories. In my own life, I was stunned to see myself and two other people dear to me struggling with the pain of loss, each in our own way. Unfortunately, instead of recognizing this, we battled each other, each striking at each other, mired in the frustration of feeling unnoticed. There is still a part of me that aches daily over the situation and my own pain. After all, we're still