In an effort to be more social, I agreed to participate in the first annual cookie exchange at work this morning. I've never done an cookie exchange before, and that fact alone didn't bode well for my social phobia, perfectionist tendencies, and leeriness about eating food from other people's kitchens. But I persevered. My grandmother recommended her favorite cookie recipe (which is actually a cake recipe--cut into bars). Last night I whipped up a delightful batch and licked the icing bowl clean...after I spread the bulk of it on the cookies. I wrapped everything in some plastic bowls and topped them with a Christmas bow. All was well until I was 1 dozen cookies short. At 10:45 last night I drove 7 miles to the nearest store (Walgreens) and then drove another mile to the Winn-Dixie for powdered sugar. I washed dishes as I listened to Letterman, and I was finally in bed around 12:30. And up again at 4:45. The cookie exchange was DELIGHTFUL. I laughed as I sipped black coffee

I'm feeling just a tad bit overwhelmed right now. So much is going on that I'm struggling to keep it all going.

I recently read in a biography of Thomas Jefferson that he taught himself Spanish with a copy of Don Quixote and a Spanish-English dictionary. I figured if it worked for him it would work for me, and I at least have a basic working knowledge of the pronunciation, simple vocabulary, and grammar structure from my 2 years of Spanish in college. So last weekend during my weekly library trip, I picked up some books in Spanish. I have read "The Berenstain Bears y la Ninera" and "Nancy Elegante" this week. I thoroughly enjoyed them. I'm not sure I've learned more words through this method, but I have seriously worked on thinking in Spanish while I'm reading. That was a tough job. If nothing else, it's a great excuse to read some of my favorite children's books. This has also been a good exercise for me as a teacher. I think I'll scrounge up a book in German or French this week and see what it's like to attempt a completely "blind" rea

Hmm. I just spent the last 30 minutes composing and debating and erasing a brief update. I guess I wasn't suppose to share that even though it's been a long time since anyone's heard from me. And I still have nothing of value to say. My mind is spinning like a slot machine these days, and I never know if it will stop on the cherry 7's or the suffocating depression that has me in it's grip. Um, yeah, it's that bad. But I knew I was here in this miserable waiting place the moment I realized I was a bit too afraid to share what's really weighing on me. I want to, but I can't, mostly because I haven't been able to distance myself enough from it to get an objective view. It's moments like this when I miss my therapist and my dear friends who know that sometimes the best piece of advice/support you can get is the silent presence of warm body who loves you.

Check it out! The Lucky Monkeys? That's my fantasy football team. I am #1 this week. Ah, I'll enjoy this while it lasts. Fantasy football standings change every week.

I discovered the most delightful medicine last night for my "tune out" blues. A HIGH SCHOOL HOMECOMING FOOTBALL GAME! We still had 4 buckets of carnations left over and decided to sell them at the homecoming game last night. One of my dear colleagues volunteered to stay and help. We had an amazing enchilada dinner at my favorite Mexican restaurant in town. (Mexican food is sort of like barbeque...the best food is always at the smallest, low-key joints.) Then we peddled our wares at the gates. I saw several of my students from last year, each of whom called out my name and ran over with their arms wide open. We laughed and cooed over babies and gave away the broken flowers to little Mexican pre-schoolers. Two girls who aren't even members of our club offered to sell flowers for us. We gave them the last 30 flowers and told them they could do whatever they wanted with them. (They sold most of them!) We stayed through the half-time show to see the crowning of the homecoming

I'm the faculty sponsor of my school's International Club, and we have been working on our big fundraiser for the last month. Homecoming carnations. This pretty much just means that I haven't had lunch in two weeks. Instead I oversee teenagers in my classroom making notecards, attaching ribbon to notecards, sorting notecards, and collecting money. We spend 2 1/2 hours this afternoon attaching notecards to the flowers and sorting them for tomorrow afternoon's delivery. Folks, it's almost done. And I cannot wait. I drove home tonight in the dark, and drove right past my street. I didn't realize what I did until I was at the light a few miles down the road. That's when it dawned on me that everything about the afternoon was a complete blur. I have an incredible ability to tune out the world. All on my own. I've been like this since I was a kid, and it comes in handy sometimes. Like this afternoon. Sometimes it's a hindrance. Like the past few weeks. Oft

I thought I'd share my thoughts on this year's Biggest Loser blue team. ! Hmm, that's the only part of my commentary that I am comfortable sharing here. Seriously, I have loved this show. In fact, it is the only reality show I can even attempt to endure. And that devotion hangs by a thin thread. I spent most of last season screaming at the t.v. and felt completely vindicated when Ali won the finale. This season is even worse. The alliances. The bickering. The lies. The crazy, psychotic blue team women! This show is about WEIGHT LOSS people. It's about CHANGING YOUR LIFE! The blue team needs to learn that sometimes that change requires more than an adjustment on the scale. I was so angry tonight at the injustice I saw that my blood pressure was through the roof. It dawned on me just how invasive hatred and vindictiveness can be. From my couch I could feel the cold black hand of ugliness shadow my body. I didn't like the feeling. If Brady had not been voted off tonigh

Sometimes I'm amazed at the information my students share with me. (Just this week one asked me if it was true that "a lot of pimples on your face means you're horny all the time".) One of my students this year is an amazing poet. He truly has a gift for words, and I am daily stunned by his ability to take a language that he has been studying for only two years and craft poems that move you. This week he shared with me his two latest. The first one starts: "Bury me a poet." He goes on to explain that no matter anyone thinks of his passion for poetry and no matter how fruitless his dream of writing may seem, he is compelled to write. I so get that feeling. The second poem was about the feeling of desperation that goes hand in hand with poverty. That one made me cry. I understand that feeling, too. Let me tell you, this kid has talent. He and his siblings often keep me going throughout the day. I know what they're facing at home, and I'm always amazed

My nephew is 14 years old today. I cannot believe how time has completely flown. In typical teenage fashion he informed me tonight, "Yeah, everyone keeps talking about how it seems like yesterday I was just a little baby." I laughed and told him that people are saying that because IT'S TRUE! He was the sweetest baby I've ever known, and he has grown to be a fine young man. Bright. Compassionate. Friendly. Creative. And he thinks rap and hip-hop lyrics make no sense. Our world can use more people like him.

As much as I hated to do it, we had to mortgage our property. Alan desperately needs a building out here for storage and a workshop, and we just didn't have the reserves to pay for the permits and concrete and steel beams with cash. We signed the closing documents Friday evening. This whole process has me thinking. Over the summer we sold our other house and had to wipe out our savings to cover the difference between our loan and the sale price. We did the responsible thing because we the bank gave us the loan in good faith, and it was just the right thing to do. Then we found out that we had to pay additional interest and paid the bank more than the loan value (even though we had already paid down the principal). We're supposed to get this back when we deduct the mortgage insurance on our taxes. That just makes me angry because we could have just as easily walked away from the loan. We still would have had our new place AND the money in our savings account. But we don't. S

We had a parent conference last week. Sort of. We--four teachers and a parent--were all there. Unfortunately, we spoke no Creole, she spoke little English, and we had no translator. So we sat around a round table in the small conference room and smiled at each other for 20 minutes. And asked repeatedly if the parent could understand ANY English. She smiled each time and squinted her eyes as she pressed her forefinger and thumb together to show us. "Um...no." We finally gave up looking for a translator and asked the woman if she could reschedule. This was all, of course, with many apologies. She stopped each one of us at the door, wrapped her arms around us, and kissed us on the cheek. This is why I love my school.

Last night's t.v. time was a complete delight. Sigh. I so needed that, especially when I realized this afternoon that sitting on the toilet was the highlight of the day because a) I was home; b) It was quiet; c) I didn't have to think about anything at all. Sigh. I caught a glimpse of my ever-expanding waistline in the mirror last night, and it dawned on me that I have to stop this trend. In the last 18 months I've managed to gain back the 40 pounds I lost 2 years ago. This summer I joined a local gym, and we were going fairly regularly. I bring my gym clothes with me each day with the hopes of stopping by on the way home. I just can't seem to get into a routine. I know that once I have an exercise routine down, the weight will come off fairly easily. That seems to be the trick for me. I can eat a diet of lettuce or ice cream and see the same results, but some time of the treadmill works wonders. If I can ever get there. My back seat is still stocked with this week'

I'm stealing a quick minute before I surrender the computer over to my husband and get intimate with the couch for what I hope will be an entertaining Thursday night in front of the t.v. It's been a long day for me. Teaching at a struggling school is so much more work than I ever dreamed. Representatives from Tallahassee will be in our school next week to make sure we are doing what we are supposed to do. Since I teach non-English speakers, they WILL be in my classroom. My students count up to five times in the formula that determines school grades. I don't take that fact lightly. Neither does anyone else. My principal was in my room earlier this week. An administrative from the District was in today. This afternoon. On the day when I didn't get to eat lunch because I had to go to a "mandatory" insurance session. On the day when I had to scrap ALL my lesson plans because my students weren't ready for them. On the day when I had two girls in tears telling m

My dear friend, Vic , and I have been having a most excellent conversation over the last week weaving through the web of politics and core values. Although outwardly we seem to be on opposite ends of the spectrum, our core beliefs are so similar that I started to think we shared a brain. Or more appropriately, a heart. I've been thinking abouth the values of service to the greater good and authenticity, and I'm sure I'll share them in more depth in the near future. For now, I want to share with you a song I first fell in love with 13 years ago. This song was the catalyst for my journey of questioning the brand of Christianity I grew up with, and it perfectly states the core of what I believe and the way I want to live my life. I'm feeling a bit distant from it these days, and I needed the reminder of why I am here and the way I hope I live my life each day. I am only included the lines that seem the most pertinent to me now. You can check out the full lyrics here . I am

Let me preface this by pointing out that we have a deaf, epileptic Great Dane, a one-eyed cat, and a slew of young cats outside that we just haven't been able to part with. Love for animals abounds here. It seems we have a critter fest going on around here lately. In mid-September there was the Great Goose Massacre courtesy of a visiting alligator. Two weeks ago we had the Invasion of the Bees that left nearly 100 dead bees in its wake. Last week was the Demise of the Rattler. Alan heard a strange sound when he walked out on the porch last Sunday. He thought at first that it was a large dragonfly caught in the screen. It turns out that it was a rattle snake, coiled up and ready to strike. He says that he will never get the rattling sound out of his head, but I think he was a bit more freaked out at the thought of watching one of the kittens get struck by the snake. (Bonsai was apparently completely willing to risk his life to investigate the snake.) His first words to me when he pi

We had state testing today. This is rather insignificant except for the fact that my classroom was unreasonably cold and one student wanted her jacket. Since it was in her bookbag, I had to get it for her. I found her jacket nested beneath plastic bags filled with hair. My only thought was, "Hmm, so this explains why no one ever has paper in class and why it can take twenty minutes to find a pen." We may never get our classwork done or homework turned in. But thank God, we have extra hair!

Thursday night I flew to Ohio to help my grandmother with a yard sale. It's been an absolutely gorgeous weekend so far with bright blue skies, a light breeze, and changing autumn leaves. I love the 70/50 temperatures, especially since my dear husband is at home fighting mosquitoes and fog and soaking humidity. We went over to my cousin's house last night for an outdoor fire party. It was a blast. I love watching burning embers dancing in the night sky and the smell of smoke in the air. I still haven't decided if it's the lure of the weather or comraderie among friends and family, but I can't help but wonder why people ever leave this behind for Florida. But they do, and I'm certainly the result of such decisions. I'm having fun with my cousin's kids who found great joy in playing catch with me. This fun game involves me standing at one end of the yard and having two soccer balls and a football thrown at me at once. I wish I had a video of me trying to ca

Okay, it's been so long now since I've posted anything significant here that it just feels a bit weird to even touch the keyboard. I don't know where to begin. I don't know when to stop. Ugh. I want to tell you about the untimely end of our pet geese. At the hands of a small alligator that showed up just long enough to help himself to a free dinner. And how it all happened right after we finally trained them to go back in their pen at night. And I really want to share about walking into my kitchen one afternoon and discovering more than 30 bees flying around. For three days I felt like I was living in a bad horror film. I wouldn't want to leave out some classroom anecdotes and story ideas. Then there's the excitement I felt seeing Three Rivers Stadium from a plane tonight. My mind is churning regularly even if my typing isn't.

While I collect my thoughts and finishing working on my new and improved site design, I thought I'd share a fun little story that happened last Friday in class. Keep in mind, these are high school juniors. Student 1: Miss, you look like a kid today. Me: I do? Student 2: (shaking head) Your hair. Me: Oh yeah? So you think I can pass for 17? Student 2: (in deep thought) Hmmm, no, but I think you could pass for 36. Student 1: Yeah, 36. Me: 36? I'm not even 36 yet? Student 2: (eyes wide open) You're not? What about 26? Is that good?

My life seems to be finally circling back toward normalcy. I was a bit unprepared for the process of getting my balance back. I finished the last of my extra work Monday. By Thursday I was knocked out with a cold, complete with a low-grade fever and overwhelming need for extra sleep. In fact, my dear husband had to entertain himself with the t.v. and internet for the last three nights while I snored in between hacking coughs on the couch. I'm finally starting to feel better, thank you. But I think I will be firmly planted on the couch again tomorrow. At least I'll have football to watch instead of PBS documentaries.

I had a haunting conversation with Nadia Friday afternoon about a very difficult decision I had to make this week. I had to quit my part-time job. Since last spring, I've been writing internet marketing materials. This work paid for my new computer and my summer travel, but it also sapped much of my free time. That's not quite true. It sapped ALL of my free time. It was a painful decision for me. Do you know how hard it was for me to admit that I couldn't do it all? I couldn't work from 7:00 to 3:30 in the classroom, plan lessons, score papers and give feedback, keep my laundry clean, wash the dishes, cook dinner, talk to my family and friends, blog, work on my own writing projects, spend time with my husband, enjoy the breezes outside, and keep up a frantic writing pace for someone else. I couldn't do it. Something had to give, and I feared it would be my sanity or my ever-growing waistline. So I called Nadia and poured out my heart, complete with my burning frustr

Sometimes I'm really surprised that the kind folks over at Waterbrook Press/Multnomah still let me participate in their new release blog tours. I'm notoriously late getting my reviews posted. In my defense, I could very easily post the summary they provide me. But if you know me (and you should know me by now if you read this) you know that I generally don't care for that level of ingenuineness. When I agreed to be part of the blog tour for " Wild Goose Chase " I couldn't wait to read this book. The book's title comes from the Celtic word for the Holy Spirit. Loosely translated it is "wild goose". I think you get the idea. With such a hectic schedule these days, I didn't have much spare time for reading. I forced myself to read it this week. The week the review was due. But I knew that this book deserved at least my own impressions. I'm glad I read it. The book is about following the leading of the Holy Spirit. You know...the raw, passion

Everyone keeps asking me how I like working with high school students. The best way to describe it is that last Friday during 8th period, I asked the kids to be quiet. And they did. On the first request. In middle school that request would have been followed by several more requests, each louder than the previous one, and then the threats of phone calls home. It's night and day, people. And now I tell everyone with a middle schooler that it really does get better. I had no intentions of being a teacher, and I really don't believe I'll be doing this for the rest of my life. My passions lie in other areas, but I do believe that God placed me in this field for a reason. I spent 4 years working with 7th graders, and even though they were some of the toughest years, they were also healing for me. It was a place I needed to be to connect some dots and gain some perspective to heal some long-standing wounds I incurred during my own 7th grade year. I firmly believe my high school e

Growing up in Florida means having an intimate knowledge of the inner workings of tropical storms and hurricanes. My poor husband has accepted the fact that we will always have a cupboard designated for canned ravioli and potatoes and tuna that we will throw out and restock once a year. Living near the coast, though, requires more than just some food in the pantry and a few extra candles. We bought a weather radio to keep us company just in case the power went out and we had no more batteries for the portable t.v. And then we waited for Tropical Storm/Possibly Hurricane Fay. I stayed awake for most of the night because my heart jumped out of my chest every time the radio siren went off. Learning about a tornado warning in Palm Beach County (across the state from me) at 2 a.m. doesn't exactly make for great sleep. But I did stay out of the tornado's way. In all seriousness, I was petrified at the thought of a tornado. I asked everyone who called me that night to pray that we w

Alan: You already got some canned foods and we will have to eat what's in the freezer if the power goes out. We have water. Anything else? Me: Hold on. (I disappear into an aisle and pop out with two boxes in hand.) Alan: What's that? Me: Hair color. Alan: Hair color? There's a storm coming and you're worried about coloring your hair? Me: We all have our priorities, dear.

I am grateful... for my dentist and the way he smiles after he's done working inside my mouth and how that simple smile tells me, "see, it really wasn't as bad as you thought it would be" I am grateful... for my husband and the way he makes inappropriate gestures with canned goods in the grocery store and how I spontaneously burst into giggles for the rest of the shopping trip I am grateful... for my friend and the way she left for me a phone message and how that message reminded me that I'm not the only person in the world who thinks the story of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes meeting was romantic I am grateful... for my new school and the way the staff has welcomed me and how much it reminds me of another school where I worked and felt loved and accepted and appreciated I am grateful... for OPI "You Otta Wear Purple" and the way it shines on my toes and how it makes me feel like a million bucks even when I wear plastic Wal-Mart flip flops I am gratef

I haven’t felt this betrayed by a story line since Neo learned that not only was he not the first person to challenge the Matrix, but he was part of the plan all along. Even though I was sorely disappointed in what appeared to be a cop-out story line, I can understand the logic in that disappointing plot twist. I can’t say the same for Stephenie Meyer’s conclusion to her wildly popular “Twilight” series. Look, I’ve read each of the first three books at least twice, and my grad school entrance paper was a character analysis of Edward Cullen. I loved these books. I read “New Moon” and “Eclipse” in a single day. I’ve been discussing the plot lines and characters with my students for the last two years. It was a long wait for this final book. And a huge part of me wishes I was still waiting. It was that much of a letdown. I’m still debating just how to tiptoe through my inevitable conversations with students about this part of the “Twilight” saga. My students were embarrassed enough by th

A recurring theme in my life right now is how our lives collide at any given moment with the lives of those around us, often in inconvenient times and methods. Promotions can be granted while someone loses a job. A miscarriage can be mourned while a birth is celebrated. Couples break up while weddings are planned. Choices are altered by circumstances within and beyond our control. What amazes me is how often we're all dealing with our own degrees of pain and joy at any given moment. Today I learned that someone very dear to me has been carrying a burden for at least the last 4 years. I'm directly connected to that burden, through no malice on either side. It's just life at work. Our lives collided, leaving both of us feeling pretty bruised and bloody and lost in the silence of the unspeakable. I want to wrap my arms around this person. And cry. And apologize. And mourn the shift in our lives' paths. Perhaps that day will arrive at some point. Until then, I still need to

Over the last two weeks, I read Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein . If you can set aside your prejudices toward science fiction and can appreciate theories even if you don't agree with them, this book is a must read. I thoroughly enjoyed the characters and the plot. (When I told my father last night that I read the book, he said, "Oooohh, I remember that book. My high school French teacher recommended it.) One idea that has stuck with me is the fact that the "Man from Mars" withdraws into himself after he experiences any great emotion or struggles to learn a new concept. He has to have time alone away from the world to process what's happening around him. Once he does this, he's able to move on. I get that. Right now there's nothing I want to do more than crawl under a blanket and sleep. Or run across the country ala Forrest Gump. A remote cabin in northern Canada sounds divine. So much has happened lately. So many ideas are flooding my brain

I'm having some trouble stringing together a coherent thought tonight, but I will try to finish this post and not relegate it to the graveyard of drafts I've saved for the last few weeks. I have lots of ideas to share. I also have a very slow dial up system at home and very little free time right now. So much has happened and not much has happened, and like usual, I'm not entirely sure what to share and what to tuck away into my memory. I haven't even journaled much to record at least a sketch of the thoughts and feelings roaming within me. The month of July has been a whirlwind of travel for me: a week in South Carolina with one side of the family, a week in Ohio with the other, and a very long weekend in the Bahamas and West Palm Beach with my dear friend. My sweet husband deserves some props for keeping together our bustling homestead and the animals who share it with us. Tonight we're dealing with our puppy who was spayed today. I hear her stirring, and my heart

I think that had my darling husband realized that my innocent visit to South Carolina would lead to my renewed addictions to anime and sci-fi fiction and a severe reduction in his spare time, he might not have been so quick to agree to my little vacation. Then again, he has known me 9 years now, during which he's held my hand and rolled his eyes and tossed me a few verbal barbs about my various obsessions with Robert Downey, Jr., The Matrix, medieval literature, and Mexican culture. And those were just the ones that made the most sense to him. This trip was an adventure for me because it was the first time I have ever ridden on a train (except for the Metro in D.C., but I don't count that). Let's just say that I am now a walking Amtrak commercial. The ride was comfortable. The crew was a delight. The food was better than a school cafeteria. The price was unbeatable. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with my family, and I am still processing each moment as they become part of my

Last Thursday I made a special visit to see the burial site of my paternal grandfather. Since he died before I was born I never had the chance to know him in this life. Yet I have carried his eyes and mouth and head shape and name my entire life, physical proof that we all leave something behind when we leave this world. It was a beautiful moment as I stood looking at the copper plate bearing his name and birth and death years. Here I was as face to face as I could possibly be with him for the first time in my life. I was acutely aware of how much I wish I could have known this church pastor and father and friend. I even whispered, "Hi Grandpa. It took me 31 years, but I'm here now" and couldn't help but wonder if there's a protocol for spirits meeting the living. My hopes were high before we reached the cemetary, although I didn't know exactly what I expected from a plot of skeletons. Just before we left, though, I stood and took one last look at the length

Right now, I'm feverishly trying to meet a writing deadline for today. I've known about it all week, but the diversions of life (like a trip to the only pharmacy in the county that will fill my dog's prescription, a successful search for a new computer bag, and an irritated piriformis) have a way of sapping my inspiration. This magazine article is about a fascinating real estate company in Tuscany. In fact, if I had the money, I would buy one of their properties tomorrow just so I could go out for myself and wander the ancient cobblestone streets of Italian villages. And that's just what I'm trying to convey in this article. So far, I have 162 of 1000 words finished. Thinking that some wine might push along the creative process, I opened the closest thing I had to an Italian wine. It's a German auslese: very, very sweet, and it's from a region far closer to Italy than the Argentine wines on my shelf. So here I am molding the words in my head like modeling cl

It's been quite a day around here. I woke up this morning and did my usual visualization/motivation activity. That just means I lie in bed with my eyes closed picturing what I want to get accomplished during the day and telling myself with all the gusto of a cheerleader, "Okay, you're going to get 3 loads of laundry done, write for 2 hours, and pay the bills today. PAY THOSE BILLS!" It's hokey, I know, but it seems to work for me.

I had one of those dreams last night that was so vivid and emotionally consuming for me that I can still picture it at noon. There's no doubt in my mind just what issues my brain was working through. They were pretty much spraypainted all over my subconsious mind. The funny thing is that I woke this morning with a new sense of hope, something I haven't felt in a long time. I don't know if it was God or just my own mind reassuring me that everything is okay, but I KNOW that it will all be okay. In fact, one part of the dream was very specific about certain issues that have bothered me lately. I know I'm not the only person who thinks about dreams and what they may or may not mean. A quick internet search for "dream meaning" proves this. Personally, I believe that dreams are a venue for our brains to play around with images, ideas, and emotions that we might normally filter out during the day. That said, I also believe they are place where God, our bodies, and o

I yelled at God the other night. I sat on my porch soaking up the damp night air and poured out my heart to Him. My frustrations and fears came gushing out amidst the sobs and gut-wrenching pain deep within my soul. The pain was physically real. At one point, I lashed out with something about how angry I was at Him. Yes, at Him. After all, He's the great creator of everything. He holds in His power the ability to anything...ANYTHING in my life. And yet, for now, he's chosen not to do one thing that I want more than anything else right now. I swear, I could see Him smile at me that knowing smile as He listened to my great display of bitching and moaning. His response was just as clear as could be. "Yeah, you're right. So if I'm the one who can do ANYTHING and knows EVERYTHING, don't you think I would if it was the right time?" This certainly was not the answer I really expected. Nor is it the one I really deserved. Yet, I can say I walked away from that exp

As I sat at my computer working on a writing project and waiting for the goose to finish his bath, I heard a bump outside. I don’t startle easily, but my dogs do, and they proceeded to go berserk, running from window to window letting me know that SOMETHING is outside. Something that could be dangerous or at least fun to sniff. There was, in fact, a couple outside. My dogs and I watched them pull out a piece of aluminum and then stomp on it until it was flattened. They folded it over. As I’m writing this, they’re trying to figure out how it will fit in their van. I gotta tell ya, that kind of ingenuity simply amazes me, and it’s one of the reasons I get so angry when someone tries to tell me the government is the only salvation for people. I come from the school of thought that if you want something, you go for it. Period. There’s always a way out there. Health insurance? My slightly overweight husband with a history of back and ear surgeries qualified for health, dental, vision, a

I am so completely in love with the public library right now. Just the thought of the place makes me blush. It is the most perfect concept ever created. Right after techno music and 400-thread count sheets. I've known for a while now that the library carries DVDs and CDs in addition to ALL THOSE BOOKS about ancient wars and alcoholic writers. I just didn't realize exactly what they had until I was frantically searching for Charlie Chaplin's "The Gold Rush" to show to my students. Today I picked up a movie they had on hold for me. (See how great this is, I can request a specific title that they have anywhere in the county. They have it waiting for me at the location I choose!) I also came home with the entire second season of "Family Ties". I sat down to watch some it a little while ago. Other than Big Bang Theory and The Office, I can't think of the last show that made me giggle quite like this one. The whole experience was such a delight. I so neede

It took me several years to finally admit it, but I struggle with depression from time to time. This was a frightening realization for me because I didn't quite understand the difference between my mother's bipolar cycles of depression and the everyday, run-of-the-mill variety. In fact, depression is considered the "common cold" of psychology/psychiatry. No one is completely immune to it, but some of us are more susceptible than others. I can't say that I've figured out the perfect solution yet. Just this morning I had one of those "just-want-to-crawl-under-the-covers-and-stay-in-bed-all-day" feelings wash over me with the first rays of the sun. Fortunately, I suspected this was coming, and last night I tool some 5-HTP before I went to bed. Here's my little pitch for this wonder product. 5-HTP helps balance the seratonin in your brain. When seratonin gets too low (like with depression), you don't sleep well. If you suffer from depression, you

I finally got around to getting some pictures off my camera to share. My car reached 200,000 miles last week. I went in last weekend to have my hair colored blonde. Um, well, it just didn't look right. My dear stylist suggested a copper glaze, and it's just perfect. I think I finally found the right red, and I think I might be able to recreate this one on my own. (Although my hair pretty much turns this color even when I just use a regular brown.) Even my dear husband said he liked the color . He just isn't that kind of man, so he must really like it. I'm also growing my hair a bit longer for now...until I decide to chop it off again. I've been on a shoe binge lately. Between the Beall's and JC Penny clearance sales, I've added a few more pairs to my collection. (The bow shoes were only $9!)

I've really been craving some Cool Cafe Blues coffee from Barnie's, and I set out to the one Barnies store in town. It just happens to be at an outlet mall, so I did my usual stop in Gap Outlet (love that store) and then popped in to the swim suit shop. I'm not picky about swimsuits. Right now I'm wearing a pair of boardshorts with a tankini top to the beach. That's perfectly fine with me, but the top is really a size too big. Every time I go in the water, I end up with breasts floating around OUTSIDE MY TOP. Getting out of the water intact takes this whole procedure that involves contorting and pulling and...well, it makes me feel like I have OCD. So as I was trying on a brown with aqua polka dots skirt/suit, I noticed a little poster on the wall. It was some sort of guide for finding the perfect suit for your body. You know, if you have a bulging stomach, look for this or long torso, look for that. That's great if you have just one body issue. I don't thin

I had a simple plan for the summer. Basically, I want to get up each morning and walk 3 miles, write for a few hours, and do some stupid little project around the house like fold the clothes in the third drawer. Um, it hasn't happened. While I was at the library Monday working on the writing project I just finished at 5 this morning, I found out my niece was going to come down for her visit that day. After a frantic house cleaning session which more resembled making sure I picked all the bras out from between the couch cushions and at least lined up my shoes by the front door, I only had 9 of my 25 articles outlined. Despite my best efforts to write in the morning before she woke, I found myself writing for six hours last night, stopping three times to set my cell phone alarm clock for 10 minute naps in my desk chair. They're done. Right now I wouldn't trade the dark circles under my eyes or that sickly feeling in my stomach. My niece had never seen the Gulf of Mexico. She

When I go to bed tonight, I'm still setting my alarm clock for 5:15 a.m. For one thing, June 2 means no more to the dogs in this house than October 15. For another, just because I'm not driving 24 miles to my classroom, doesn't mean I don't have work to do. No one tells you when you go into teaching that you have no real life from August to June. None. Being gone from 6:20-6:00 each day doesn't leave much time for scrubbing the kitchen sink (sorry Flylady ) or putting away clothes. And let's just stay away from the topic of closet space. Rest assured that I'm not a clean freak or anything (far from it). It's just that I won't be able to cook a full meal or critique Einstein's theory of relativity until I've moved the assorted boxes and crates filled with young adult novels and paper trays to somewhere other than the middle of my guest room. So even though I'm on "vacation", I already have a schedule for the week that includes ti

Hallelujah! Summer is almost here. In a mere 2 1/2 days, I will once again be a full-time writer. The content of this site will also change slightly as I shift into writer mode and begin sharing more about the process and work. Is my excitement shooting out from the computer screen? I am SO flipping ecstatic about working on my 3 pet projects: two massage therapy books and my novel. Thanks to Nadia, the novel now has a new working title: Life on Hold. My protagonist, Sarah Manning, is really starting to take shape. I still have no idea what she does for a living, but she has revealed more about her relationship with her husband. That's where I finally realized the main theme of the story. It's all about the expectations we encounter in our lives. Sarah and her sisters have each placed their lives on hold in an attempt to meet the expectations of their spouses, family, and themselves. Who knows how my foray into fiction will turn out, but I will post some excerpts from the novel

For the last 2 weeks I've been reading a biography on Scott Fitzgerald . At the moment, I'm completely wrapped up in his wreckless, genuine, extravagant, and tragic life story. I'm at the point when his wife had her first mental breakdown, and Fitzgerald is entering a period of both his best and worst work, but certainly not his most popular phase. (Funny how life works in those extremes.) I suppose if someone wrote my biography they would describe this last as my busiest non-productive years, but the one that shaped me into the woman I became. So much has happened, and I tend to feel like there's been no rest, but I know I've changed. My dear husband mentioned something to me the other day about applying for some grants so I can pursue writing full-time. I love the fact that he knows that nothing would make me happier, and he believes in my talent. That conversation along with the fact that everything Fitzgerald wrote was completely autobiographical has inspired m

Maybe I've been spending too much time with early teenagers lately, but I've had a lot of thoughts rumbling through my head lately that sound way too much like my journal from 1990. When you're in the middle of that teenage angst, there's always any number of adults around telling you that it will all make sense one day. That eventually you will be at peace with yourself. That "this, too, will pass". And they do. I see now from my vantage point of 31 (Wow...31? Really?) that perspective comes only with experience. I wrote in my journal the other day that sometimes I want to "crawl into my 12 year old skin". It's not that I really want to live through those days again. It's just that I miss the simplicity of knowing my daily goal was to learn how to solve equations and the gross domestic product of Brazil, to write some notes to friends, to watch my favorite t.v. shows, and go to sleep knowing that my life was just one great big bundle of poss

I made a deal with myself last week that if I could eat clean Monday through Friday, I would buy myself Urban Decay's Deviant eyeliner. I could barely contain myself as I ran into Ulta and straight for the Urban Decay display. This stuff is electric blue with just the right hint of glitter, and I really want to just color my entire body with it or inject it directly into my veins. I am so in love with this eyeliner right now. My sweetie says I'm only a frayed jean skirt and can of hairspray away from 1987. That's okay with me; I kind of liked that year.

I arrived home Wednesday just in time to wrap one of my baby geese in a towel before she gasped for her last few breaths. As she lay in my arms dying, I cried and prayed the only words that came to my mind: “Dear Jesus, please carry Your creature to Your kingdom.” I placed her inside a shoe box and my sweetie buried her near the fence in a hole deep enough to keep our hunting cats from digging her up. I so wish someone from The Publisher’s Clearinghouse had been videotaping me yesterday afternoon when I walked in to check on the remaining goose. Inside his makeshift pen were two new geese. One looks just like the other geese did when I brought them home, except he has hamster-like chubby cheeks. The other one is a delicate yellow. Apparently, my dear one decided to go to the feed store this morning on a day when we didn't need dog food or an assortment of John Deere toys. This is no small feat that required a 1 hour round trip drive into town. When we have a baby, I hope it’s a gir

I was so impressed by my last post that I shared it with my grandmother who immediately said, "Just remember to hold on to that faith when bad things happen." That was fair enough, and I've been through enough rough moments in my life to know there's always something waiting around the bend with the potential to shake my core. Little did I know just how quickly it would rear its ugly head. A few years ago I first noticed a weird little scar on my back. I have no recollection of how I got it. It just suddenly was there. The only spot on my very red, sunburned back. I never thought much of it until I went to the dermatologist a few weeks ago. Names have an interesting way of taking over. Until the doctor spoke the word, I didn't think of the spot as anything more than an entity named Bob or Herman or Frankie with a made up a story about how we met up during our time in the Peace Corp in Bolivia. No such luck for me. It turns out that my weird little scar is actually

I had entire post written about my shopping trip to Ulta this afternoon. I had planned to share about the turquoise nail polish I bought and my newfound love of Urban Decay makeup. I had set aside the camera for a picture of my new headband that doesn't cut off circulation to my ears. And I deleted it. Another thought entered my mind, and this one seemed just a bit more important. We're closing on our old house sometime in the next three weeks. The whole thing just hit me at once, and I'm not completely sure how I'm going to handle this. That's not entirely true. At this time last year, my life was a jumbled chaos. I honestly thought I was headed for a divorce and a stint in the hospital, not entirely sure which one would come first. All I knew was that something had to give, or I was giving up. So I prayed. I opened my calendar and picked a date. I needed an answer by that date. By the time July rolled around, I thought I was supposed to spend another year. Alone

I just finished writing one of those off the top of my head emails to a friend about choices and consequences. My own words have me thinking now. Just because you're in the middle of a very different situation than what you based your decision on doesn't change your original decision. This haunts me. How many times have I made a choice only to have the situation change or morph into something I never expected? Or berated myself for not being omniscient enough to see the future? Or let someone else make me feel scatterbrained or fickle when I wanted to back out of something I clearly didn't want in the first place? The sad truth is far too many times. We make choices based on the information before us. Sometimes it's factual. Sometimes it's not. Sometimes it changes when someone else changes their mind. But that still doesn't change the truth alive in me. That doesn't change the drive I feel in my spirit or the passions in my soul. Learning to see myself...to

My sister and I hosted a baby shower for our sister-in-law today. It was one of those deals that dominated our daily drive-home-from-work-calls for the last 6 weeks. Then we scratched all our plans last week and ended up sprint shopping this morning and were still putting the finishing touches on everything as the first guests arrived. The shower was beautiful, and we all had a great time decorating the pages for the baby book, chillin' with some Jack Johnson, and munching on the most amazing rolls my mouth has ever tasted. My brilliant idea for the day was something I call the "paciflower". I put these together last night, and we used them as center pieces for the tables. Aren't they adorable? I'm totally exhausted now since I've been up since 5:30 and have driven a total of 6 hours today and had to drive over more bridges than I care to count. Last summer I developed a bridge phobia. My heart pounds as I go over any bridge. My mind races with thoughts li

A few years ago I discovered Burberry Brit on the counter at Dillards. I was instantly in love with the woody scent, but for some reason, I didn't buy it. I've thought about it since then, but by the time I actually wanted to buy it for my sweetie, I couldn't remember the name. I finally bought it this weekend and couldn't contain my enthusiasm when I asked my dear sweet manly husband to close his eyes and hold out his hands. He rolled them at me and smirked. That reaction shot flames out my ears and I waved him off with a, "I don't even want to deal with you right now." Moments later I was apologizing for snapping and embarrassing him. I gave him the cologne. He immediately said something about how he much he wouldn't get a chance to wear it, and it was all over. He licked his wounds. I was deflated. The next night, I crawled into bed and leaned over to kiss him goodnight. I couldn't help but notice the scent of cologne along the base of his neck

My dearest friend, Nadia, and I went to the beach yesterday. It's a delightful little gem about 30 minutes away from my house with squeaky-white sand and countless shells. We've been beach partners throughout our friendship, so this was a fun way to spend the last day of our weekend together. We chose our spot and set up. Nadia opened her beach chair with 2 clicks, tossed her towel on top, and slapped on another layer of SPF 30 sunscreen. She had this all done before I had even unwrapped my umbrella. She's such a beach pro. We're such beach opposites, but we're both drawn to the lure of the ocean. My favorite moment of the day was when I saw Nadia's eyes open and a smile crease her face as she looked over at me. What a pair we were. She stretched out on her chair with her swimsuit positioned just right so the sun would paint all the right places. I was wrapped in a blanket sized beach towel under an umbrella still wearing my hat and sunglasses. Yeah, I'm a r

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In case you've ever wondered, baby geese can very easily become spoiled. It is also now very apparent that I will be the kind of mother who rocks her baby and holds them whenever they cry. The geese are now trained to squeak wildly whenever a human enters a room or when they hear a human voice. Said humans immediately take them out of their cage and hold them wrapped in a towel or let them run around in their "playpen". It's all my fault. I'm okay with that. They make me laugh.

Look what I brought home today. I think we've named them Scout and Jem. The dogs seem to approve. I had a bad experience with geese around Lake Morton when I was seven, so this was certainly not my idea. The guy at the feed store assured me that they would not attack me since they will have been around me their entire lives. And he said they could keep away bobcats. I'm hoping they can protect my vegetable garden.

I found $6 today on the sidewalk. I picked it up, looked around for anyone who may have lost it, and slipped it in my pocket. I've never been the kind of person who views lost money as my own lottery. My found money is someone else's lost money. I can never shake from my mind what someone else had planned for the money. This was especially true today because this money belonged to a student who probably doesn't have much to begin with. By the end of the day, the $6 was still folded in my pocket. No one claimed it. No one complained about losing money. In a little while, I'll be stopping at Target to pick up some educational games. That $6 will go toward one of them. It's the only way to ease my conscience.

My sister and I were talking last night about moments that changed us. The idea is that we all have experiences that change the core of our beings. We each shared only one last night, partly because we ran out of time as our conversation meandered, but mostly because it's just difficult to sort through our memories for those that really transformed us. Here's my Moment That Changed Me, #1 I grew up in a home with 2 mentally ill parents: a bipolar mother and clinically depressed father. By the time I was a teenager, I was filled with an unexpressed rage at my life's circumstances. I placed all the blame on my mother's shoulders and reached a point where I could barely speak to her. During the last night of a church revival when I was 15, I sat in the choir loft half listening to the sermon and half watching my mother in the congregation. I remember the pure rage boiling within me, questiong just what God had in mind when he placed me in that environment. There was no cho

It's 3 a.m. I just sent the last of the articles I've been writing to their new owner, and mixed with my relief that it's over is mixed with a gnawing feeling. So much of my time and mental power has been wrapped up in this project that I'm not sure I know what to do now. I have floors to sweep and papers to shred and laundry to fold and put away. There are lesson plans and a Powerpoint waiting to be completed. And I can't forget the *fun* stuff like crafts and business and more writing. It's just that the project has been a delightful excuse for neglecting my life. So I'm done and ready to move on to the next idea. Tomorrow I will be at a birthday party and shopping with my sister for the shower we're throwing. The invitations will go out tomorrow along with this treasure: It's still less than a month since the baby was born, so I feel like I'm ahead of schedule for a change. And I'm very proud of this work since it is my own design. So that