I'm having a hard time lately rising above the rage that seems to be seething just below the surface of my skin. Even right now, I can feel it burning, ready to escape as soon I unleash it. Such a lovely picture, right? I want to rage against the night right now. I want to scream and punch holes in walls and kick the nearest living being. I want to push and rip and bite chunks out of anything that seems too whole or perfect. I. Want. To. Lose. It. In the middle of this primitive desire is my knowledge that I'm really just feeling overwhelmed and don't know how to let something slide. I worked for two days this week with a low grade fever. I'm not sleeping through my coughing spells. My floors are layered with dirt. I have a five inch stack of papers to grade and way too much writing work to do. Now I have to go to a training tomorrow that I took last summer. Each weekend for the month of March is already booked with weekend guests, parties, and even the GRE. My head is ...

We went to see Charlie Bartlett this weekend. I think the last movie we saw together in the theater was the first National Treasure movie. Wow, that was a long time ago, especially since we don't have the excuses of traveling jobs or kids. I was pleasantly surprised and delighted by this gem of a film. As we sat in our seats watching the scrolling credits, I breathed, " Robert Downey, Jr. was so awesome that I want to rent everything he's ever been in and watch it all." My sweetie gave me a crooked smile which means he knows me well enough to accept that I won't ever have time to do that anytime soon, but he doesn't want to issue me a dare by voicing that out loud. But, really, he was AWESOME. I've never before watched a movie and thought, "What a brilliant performance." Oh, it was. His performance was the only thing that got me through the one sex scene in the movie. I mean, for the record, teenage sex scenes are just plain creepy. Right? I sat...

I feel the need to preface this post with the disclaimer that I don't read much fiction. (My shelves are filled with history and alternative medicine books.) I read even less Christian fiction, so Death of a Six Foot Teddy Bear was a small adventure for me. As I expected, Christian fiction (and, I suppose, secular popular fiction) has some slightly different elements from my usual literary fare. (Parts of the dialogue sound like they were taken directly from my youth leader's mouth.) This is the second book in Susan Dunn's Bargain Hunters series, and the story is centralized around Ginger and friends in the Bargain Hunter's Network. In this adventure, they go to Calamity, Nevada for a convention, outlet shopping, and the world's largest yard sale. They end up in the middle of a murder investigation repleat with some rather outlandish moments. Overall, this book was a delightful read. I am character driven in my fiction, and I need a book to have memorable character...

Looks like I'm a vegetarian once again. Or at least mostly vegetarian. Or more vegetarian than I was before. The first time I swore off meat products was during a college ethics class. In the middle of a lecture on Immanuel Kant, I suddenly realized that eating a steak was eating a muscle. From then on, when I thought of meat, all I could picture was someone with a fork and knife sawing away at my arms and legs. My poor husband met me not long after that experience, and that meat-and-potatoes man was such a good sport about tofu and soy cheese. It still makes me smile. I slowly started eating meat again a year after we were married when we both wanted to try the Atkins diet. It really was no big deal. Like most everything else I do, there's some logical reason inside my head that has little to do with what anyone else on the planet thinks. Today's sudden dietary change is the result of two experiences I had today that are completely unrelated to getting my teeth x-rayed. On...

People fascinate me. I think I've mentioned this before, but it's still true. We have a bit of a shake-up at work which is leaving many of us--me included--unsure about whether we will have a job next year. Sure it's a little disconcerting to think about facing another change, but we're teachers. For the most part, as long as you aren't arrested for a felony, you can get a job. That's pretty much my mantra. Someone threw out at me one of my favorite barbs this week: "Oh, you don't have anything to worry about because you don't have kids." In my book, that's right up there with saying, "Oh, you wore green today; I guess you don't like blue." The fact of the matter is that I'm just *not* a worrier. At least about the big stuff. I'm much more likely to lose sleep about suddenly losing a limb to gangrene. Or being knocked off a bridge by a large seagull. It kind of cracks me up sometimes how we all find excuses for what we...

Don't you just love lightbulb moments that blindside you? Those never-saw-it-coming epiphanies? I had one today. It still stings. Although I tend to be an open book, this epiphany was just a tad bit too personal for me to write about here. Let's just say that my twelve years of weight struggle suddenly became crystal clear while I drove home today. And I still ate a leftover breadstick well after dinner when I wasn't really hungry. In a somewhat related note, I decided that I want to follow some of the Christian traditions this year that always fascinated me, but didn't fit in with my Southern Baptist upbringing. It looks like I'll be starting with Ash Wednesday and Lent. Lent scares me, but I'm giving it a valiant effort. For the next few months I am giving up shopping for non-necessities. This is really a sacrifice for me, and it actually fits in with my epiphany. This scares me. Ugh, I have some shopping to do tomorrow. I've got to find some placemats tha...

So what's better than a new pair of impractical fushia shoes? A library card! I finally made it to the library during operating hours and have officially checked out my first books in the county. I've had a library card since I was 8 years no matter where I have lived. Since I am officially banned from buying books (a decree from my dear husband who finds my reading pace obscene), I must have that lovely piece of plastic that gives me entrance to the world of books. Today's treasures are a book by Chris Kuzneski (He's adorable and answers his emails!) and book about Bosnia. I recently found out that one of the sisters in the novel I am writing is married to a Bosnian refugee. (I just love when the characters spring things like this on me.) Now I need to do some catch up on the history of the region. My to-do list is growing, and my receipts don't really look anything like the shopping list I took with me this morning. I did pick up the bok choy and trouser socks. I ...

Every woman should have at least one pair of entirely impractical shoes. I don't care if you only put them on to go to the bathroom. They should be there in your closet to remind you of your dress-up roots. (We all have them buried somewhere within us; it's part of the female DNA.) I bought another pair of impractical shoes today. They are fushia. Stiletto sandals. (Not too tall.) I'm in love with them. I found them in a small shoe store filled with all sorts of unpronounciable Brazilian brand names. I've only worn them to the bathroom so far. My purchase today got me thinking about my wandering roots. I'm not much of a shopper because I equate shopping with hunting. There'a s purpose in mind, and purpose doesn't usually bring me the refuge from the world that I crave. Wandering, on the other hand, has no purpose. There's no time frame. I'm not obligated to load plastic bags in my car. I wander more than I realized. Sometimes I hop in the car and dri...