Category Archive

I am somewhat out of sorts today. I had odd dreams all night (did you know Ellen and Portia are coming to my hometown for their honeymoon, and that Ellen is wearing a light pink chiffon dress in their wedding?) and the phone startled me awake, and I was up until two in the morning finishing a book. Oh, you might be thinking, two in the morning. That’s obviously your problem. Really, though, it’s the book that’s causing me to stop typing every few minutes and stare with a furrowed brow at the two Rose of Sharon trees in my yard until I realize I am staring and continue typing.

I just re-read The Time Traveler’s Wife because a friend was reading it for the first time and I thought it would be cool to discuss it in real time, sort of like a mini book club. And also, because it’s an amazing feat of genius, and if you have read it you know why I am out of sorts. And if you haven’t you will either go buy it, or you will be the first to tell me in the comments and I will send you this copy. Anyway. I re-read this book, and it is brilliant, and brilliant novels often lead me to conduct marathon finishes because I just can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. When the rising action of a story is crafted just right it has that effect on me, and putting the book down would mean breaking this frantic uphill climb, this frenzied momentum. I have to keep reading.

Reading in this fast and furious fashion leaves me mentally and emotionally spent, to say nothing of physically, since most of my read-a-thons now occur after Mia’s Very Late Bedtime. But it’s the emptying out and filling up of my brain that wipes me. I just want to sit and stare, to be with the characters a little longer and absorb the things they did, the things that happened to them. This is one of the reasons I like re-reading books: if I loved the characters, and I miss them when the last page is turned, it’s so easy to visit them again, because they are inside there living their lives and all I have to do is turn to page one and it’s like a little reunion. I don’t re-read many books, mind you, only a select few, and this was only my second round with The Time Traveler’s Wife. It probably won’t be my last.

Like I said, any good work of literary genius leaves me wistfully staring into space the morning after. It’s almost like I am still IN the book, and there are no other books in the universe but the one I just read, and to attempt to use my brain for any other task (like writing or, God forbid, starting another book!) would be a mere waste of my mental energy. But this book is different. The effect is deeper, more profound, and yet here I sit at the keyboard trying to explain it to you, which probably won’t happen, because every time I stop to ponder a word or work out a phrase my mind immediately fills with vignettes and characters and scenes from The Time Traveler’s Wife. It has left me (again, only more so) awed and dumbfounded, overwhelmingly bereft and more than a little confused. I also feel a great sense of amazement and possibility. And now I’m starting to feel a little vague, because what I really want to do is talk about what actually happens in this book, but I can’t–I wouldn’t dare give away any of the details you will want to savor at two in the morning when you read it yourself. 

What have you read recently (or ever, I’m not picky) that affected you profoundly?

I have four–FOUR!–drafts saved in WordPress right now. I could be working on any of them.

I have eaten half a bowl of cereal and my coffee is tepid. I could be finishing my breakfast.

Mia is binge-eating Cheerios in the high chair. I could be cleaning up the morning meal disaster area, wiping down the tray, and combing the banana out of my kid’s hair.

Instead I am recovering from a Really Big Cry that, while most likely tied to my Very Frustrating Evening yesterday (one of the drafts in progress), was actually incited by the internet.

I was reading the morning’s headlines and saw the story about the 911 operator who hung up on a 5-year old boy. Have you seen it? The kid had called to get help for his mom, who was unconscious on the floor, and the operator didn’t believe him, so she disconnected. He eventually called back, but the second operator also thought he was kidding and sent police instead of EMS. His mom died. While he was sitting there next to her.

We are listening to Robbie Schaeffer on XMKids online via AOL while I am reading this story, and in my already saddened state I listen as Robbie takes a call from a kid in Kentucky. He always asks his miniature callers what they are doing, and this kid says, “We’re going to pick up my dad.” Robbie jokingly says, “Why? Did he fall down?” and the little girl says, “He’s coming home from Iraq.” I think I could actually hear Robbie Schaeffer’s intake of breath, or maybe that was me, but as I listened to the rest of the conversation I came completely unglued. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard Robbie Schaeffer’s voice–whether speaking or singing, his voice is filled with a mellow, gentle kindness. The combination of his kindness and the inherent sadness of this child seeing her dad for the first time in a year and the 911 story was just too much for me. And then the little girl requested, and Robbie Schaeffer played, this:

Can you see me? I am wiping my eyes with a dish towel.

What? I’m supposed to have WORDS?

Okay: Read Catherine Newman’s Waiting for Birdy. Very funny, and so, so true. And so much more interesting than ANYTHING I might crank out here tonight.

I could have written this. 

I’ve been taking a young adult literature class for my master’s degree. We’ve read a little of everything–problem novels, poetry, historical fiction, mystery and horror, romance, adventure. My current required reading list includes a graphic novel of my choice. I don’t like graphic novels. They are too busy for me, too much on the page, and it’s sometimes hard to tell if you’re supposed to read across the page or down. That being said, I’ve enjoyed many of the titles I’ve read for the class, but It’s been a long time since I was so captivated by a book that I wanted to miss work to read it. Until now. And that book, the one I wanted to spend my day with, is a graphic novel. If you are a fan of graphic novels (this one is actually an autobiography), or if you love Alison Bechdel, do not delay–go now and find a copy of Fun Home.

 ~~~

I watched Charlotte’s Weblast weekend, and while it was as wonderful as I’d expected it to be, the spider scared the bejesus out of me. It’s just a computer-generated graphic, I know, but it LOOKS. SO. REAL. After a few minutes I got past my revulsion, but the movie made me think of something most unpleasant. Spiders like dark, cool corners where they can be creepy and eat bugs in peace. My desk, which is in a building which happens to be in the woods, is just such a place. Because it is hotter than the earth’s core in my classroom, the outside door is open most of the day. Things can crawl in if they wish to do so. Now I am freaked out about sitting at my desk. Even now, just thinking about that vast expanse of spider-friendly darkness where my legs are makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. To make matters worse, I am wearing a pair of capri pants with ties at the calf, and they keep brushing against my ankles, and if I get through the day without cracking a kneecap on the desk or falling down, it will be a freakin’ miracle.

 ~~~

I might have a new job, but I don’t want to talk about it. I’m experiencing a heightened state of superstition. A red superstition alert, you might say. Just keep your fingers crossed.

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Speaking of work, the man who is to be our New Principal next year has joined our staff for the remainder of the year. He and Acting Principal are wonderful, and you can almost imagine that, given some time, this place might someday be good again, the way it used to be when I started working here. The really weird thing is that no one talks about Old Principal anymore. It is as if she never existed. It’s strange.

 ~~~

And also speaking of work, the School Formerly Known as My Workplace has been leveled, and preparations are being made for the temporary buildings that will serve as a school for the next 3-4 years. On Saturday we had the opportunity to go collect whatever was recovered from the building before they destroyed it. I actually had 6 boxes of stuff, most of which I will toss in the trash due to mold, or because it’s useless (the stuff I used was out in the open, so I’m sure it was destroyed by smoke and water). But one of the boxes contained a hanging folder full of notes and pictures students had given me over a 10 year period, and another contained a ceramic coffee mug I bought at Eddie Bauer my first year of teaching. It is wide at the base, very sturdy with rubber on the bottom, and on the side it says “Never confuse having a career with having a life.” I once unknowingly drove all the way to work with it on top of my car, full of coffee, and when I got there it was still sitting there, not a drop of the still-hot coffee spilled. It is not even dusty after its time in the destroyed building. I am certain that mug could survive nuclear halocaust. I am glad to have it back.

My spring break officially begins at 3:45 p.m. today. I’m not going out of town, but I’m looking forward to having no schedule and being at home and sleeping late. And reading. I’m planning to lie around on my screened porch and read. A lot. It should come as no surprise that I have a huge pile of books at the ready, which makes me wonder what you’re reading. What’s on your beside table? What can’t you put down? What do you think everyone else on the planet (or at least on your bloglist) should read? Leave me a comment and recommend a book; tell me why I should read it; include the Dewey number and an annotated bibliography. Kidding. Ha. Ha ha.

I’ll start. I think you all should read The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver.

I have read The Bean Trees six times, the first as a junior in college, and I could easily pick it up right now and start reading it again. It is heartbreaking, haunting, uplifting, inspiring. It makes me want to write, and it makes me want to love. Every time I read it I see new angles and turns of phrase. Most recently I read it as someone who hopes to be a parent soon, and the mother-child images and themes made me weep. The Bean Trees is Kingsolver’s first novel, and one of her best. It is certainly one of the most beautiful stories I’ve ever read.

So…who’s next?

I just finished watching one of the best reality music shows ever created, CMT’s “Crossroads.” If you call yourself a music fan and you’ve never watched this show…well, I’m just going to assume it’s becuase you don’t get CMT in your town. “Crossroads” is 1-2 hours of candid backstage banter and both behind-the-scenes and on-stage collaboration between a country music artist and a well-known artist from another musical genre. Tonight’s episode featured Kenny Rogers with Lionel Richie, and my real point in bringing this up in the first place is to make the following important statements:

1. Now that John Cash is gone, Kenny Rogers is the only old man on the planet who can pull off black leather pants.
2. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Lionel Richie and Kenny Rogers sing “Ruby” and “The Gambler.” I tell you, it was better than “Islands in the Stream.” Yeah, Calliope, I said it. But be advised that on Wednesday, March 15 at 11 p.m. “Crossroads” features Dolly Parton and Melissa Etheridge, and THEY sing “9 to 5″ and “Somebody Bring Me Some Water,” and THAT trumps Kenny and Lionel hands down.

I just discovered this event, the North Carolina Festival of the Book, is taking place just down the road in April, and it’s free. FREE!!! Check out the speaker list! Normally I hear about events like this occurring in places far, far away, but I can be in Durham in 45 minutes. I’m so pumped!

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. On Sunday around 10 a.m. I opened The DaVinci Code and was not seen or heard from again for almost eight hours. If you’ve read it–and you liked it–you know of which I speak. I couldn’t stop. It was as if an unseen force was turning the pages. Eventually I became hungry and thirsty, but the book was relentless. I had to deal dirty: “Okay, okay, I’ll read ten more chapters. Then can I have a snack? I’ll just grab a box of Cheez-its, nothing fancy or time consuming.” And the book agreed to my conditions. I warmed up leftovers for lunch, but I do not recall eating anything after my 6:30 p.m. crackers and soda, which I ate one-handed. My other hand was chained to the book. I felt I owed it to the characters to stick it out and stay the distance–what they endured lasted less than 24 hours, after all, and I just couldn’t see stopping the action for, say, a meal, or laundry.

So that’s why I didn’t blog on Sunday. I know, I know, what about the previous THREE DAYS? That’s right, I am at work after a four-day weekend. You’ll recall my, er, concern about the impending winter weather from last Wednesday, and it did come–freezing rain and regular rain and temperatures hovering between 30 and 32 all day Thursday, and Thursday was a glorious day–no school, no kids, no work, no contact with the greater public. I knew we would have to make up the day on one of the two workdays built into Christmas vacation. Fine, I didn’t mind losing one day. It was worth it.

But when my alarm went off at 6 on Friday morning I flipped on the television to confirm that we had a 2-hour delay, and why not?–the temperature was already 34 and the rain had stopped the night before. I saw all of the other school systems scroll by, all 2-hour delays, and I ALMOST turned off the TV and reset my alarm for an hour later, but I am an audio/visual learner and I needed to see and/or hear about the delay before I proceeded. There was no delay. In fact, THERE WAS NO SCHOOL AT ALL. I was furious. I went immediately to the window, sure that 6 feet of snow must have fallen unbeknownst to me during the night. But the ground was clear. The gradually lightening sky was BLUE. I could see SUNLIGHT. There was ice on the trees, yes, but it was melting. I could see and hear it melting. I later learned the reason for the cancellation: the bus parking lots were icy. I have always believed that the buses went to the kids, not the other way around, so I’m not sure why they couldn’t salt the parking lots and send the buses out onto the clear streets. By 9:30 the sun was shining, the sky was blue, and it was 45 degrees.

I ended up going to work for a few hours on Friday, and because I got so much done I am able to sit here at work, at my desk, and blog on a Monday morning. I guess I shouldn’t complain, even though my Christmas break is now TWO days shorter. If you are thinking, “well, not really, you just got those two days a little early,” you should stop it right now. If you are a teacher you understand that a “true” vacation does not really begin until you know you do not have to go back to those sniveling immature excuses for–I mean, children–for several days. Long weekends are pleasant, but they are not “breaks.” Hence, Thursday and Friday could not possibly be considered part of Christmas vacation because I was well aware that I’d be right back here today. In fact, I consider Thursday simply a recovery day from the plague of days that preceded it. As soon as I saw the cancellation notice Thursday morning I became semi-comatose. For a list of things I did NOT do on my snow day go here. What I did do would not constitute an entire post: I slept really late, watched “Little House on the Prairie” and “Magnum P.I.” reruns, and ate. My brain and my body needed the maintenance time, like when websites shut down for several hours and are not operable. I was definitely not operable. By the time I finally became operable it was time to come back to work. See? NOT a vacation at all.

And so the real vacation will begin on Thursday, and then there will be plenty of time to do vacation-like things–shopping, cooking, my annual Christmas craft all-nighter. And if I’m lucky I’ll be abducted again…there’s quite a lineup of suspects on my nightstand, and I’m such an easy target.

I listened to this on the way to work today. It might seem odd, but as soon as the first note of the first song began to play I knew it was a good move. Now if only the weather would cooperate….

What are you listening to?

Item 1: I have been having strange dreams. REALLY strange dreams. You know the kind: when you wake up in that “WTF?” state, and there’s still a little crazy on your face, and you want to tell someone–anyone–what just transpired in the dark abyss of your skull, but you have too much on your to-do list and involuntary committal is just not something you have time for today.

Item 2: My neighbor across the cul-de-sac speaks another language. Well, at least she does when she’s on the phone at 11 p.m. taking her cute dog for a walk within my earshot while I am also taking my cute dog for a walk. I have lived across from this woman for almost four years; we have waved and exchanged hellos on a regular basis. Why, then, have I not noticed until just a few nights ago that she is, as we say here in the South, not from these parts? It is easy to remain oblivious to your neighbors down the street, the ones to the far right and left whose houses you pass each day, and to whom you wave when you drive by them working in their yards, but who do not share a property border or a view of your house. But it’s hard to miss people right across the street, and so I am in wonder that I have never had enough conversation with this woman to realize that English is not her first language. Makes me wonder what else I’ve missed on this quiet little street.

Item 3: I am listening to Sarah Vowell’s Assassination Vacation, and I highly recommend it. But you should definitely listen to it. I’m sure it’s a great print work, but Vowell’s voice is wonderful, her delivery so deadpan, and many of the historical figures who feature in the book are voiced by the likes of Stephen King and Jon Stewart. Great for a long car ride.

Item 4: “Shall We Dance” (the newer Gere/Sarandon version) is an excellent movie. So is “Hitch” with Will Smith.

Item 5: Ice cream sandwiches are SO good. So are tomatoes ripened in the sun, and cucumbers, and raspberries right off the bush, or vine, or whatever. But given the choice–say, I’m on “Survivor” and I can only have one or the other–I think I’d have to go with ice cream sandwiches.

1. Row, Row, Row Your Boat (Schoolchildren of Wanseko, Uganda–2005 Oxford American Southern Music CD)
2. Perfect World (Indigo Girls–All That We Let In)
3. Times Like These (Jack Johnson–On and On)
4. Snow is Gone (Josh Ritter–Hello Starling)
5. Little Black Crow (Divine Maggees–Love Me Like the Roses)
6. John Llewellyn (Annie Gallup–Backbone)
7. Echoes (Dar Williams–My Better Self)
8. Ode to Common Things (John McCutcheon–Mightier Than the Sword)
9. Living in the Moment (Mason Jennings–Century Spring)
10. Show Me the River (Eastmountainsouth–Eastmountainsouth)
11. One Small Heart (Mary Chapin Carpenter–Between Here and Gone)
12. Better Together (Jack Johnson–In Between Dreams)
13. Lost and Found (Patty Larkin–Regrooving the Dreams)
14. I’m Looking Through You (The Wallflowers–”I Am Sam” Original Soundtrack)
15. Dear Mary (Linda Thompson–Songbirds: The Essential Album Volume 2)
16. Dewey Dell (Mason Jennings–Century Spring)
17. Constellations (Jack Johnson–In Between Dreams)
18. At the Moment (John McCutcheon–Stand Up)
19. Eyes of God (Tret Fure–Anytime, Anywhere)
20. Camera (Annie Gallup–Backbone)
21. Song for the Fireflies (Josh Ritter–Golden Age of Radio)
22. Love and Happiness for You (Kimmie Rhodes–Love Me Like a Song)
23. 2 Dollar Shoes (Rosie Thomas–When We Were Small)
24. Untitled (Patty Larkin–Regrooving the Dream)

1. Red=Luck–Patty Larkin
2. A Thousand Beautiful Things–Annie Lennox
3. Oh What a World–Rufus Wainwright
4. My Back Pages–The Byrds
5. Love Throw a Line–Patty Griffin
6. Solsbury Hill–Peter Gabriel
7. Someone’s Daughter–Beth Orton
8. Invisible Girl–Minnie Driver
9. Flood–The Mosquitos
10. Sunday Morning–Maroon 5
11. Inside Your Painting–Patty Larkin
12. Open–Bruce Cockburn
13. The Truth About Disguise–Annie Gallup
14. Sleeper–Joan Baez
15. Uncle John’s Band–Indigo Girls
16. River–Mary Chapin Carpenter
17. Good People–Jack Johnson
18. Window on the World–John Hiatt
19. When the Wind Blows–Tret Fure
20. Hand Full of Water–Patty Larkin

1. Bad Moon Rising–Thea Gilmore
2. The Revolution Starts Now–Steve Earle
3. I Saved the World Today–Annie Lennox
4. The Times They Are A-Changin–Bob Dylan
5. Let it Be Me–Indigo Girls
6. Across the Universe–Rufus Wainwright
7. Imagine–Joan Baez
8. Amaze Me–Girlyman
9. All That Innocence–Patty Larkin
10. Hawk and the Dove–Tret Fure
11. Land of the Free–Thea Gilmore
12. Goodnight America–Mary Chapin Carpenter
13. Pennsylvania Avenue–Erika Luckett
14. Beg to Differ–Patty Larkin
15. Strange Rivers–Joan Baez
16. All That We Let In–Indigo Girls
17. Peace Train–Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam)
18. Jerusalem–Steve Earle
19. Hard Times–Eastmountainsouth

1. Gabriel’s Message–Sting
2. Children of Abraham–John McCutcheon
3. It’s Christmas Time–The Carpenters
4. Happy Christmas (War is Over)–Melissa Etheridge
5. The 12 Days of Christmas–John Denver and the Muppets
6. Children Go Where I Send Thee–Natalie Merchant
7. River–Joni Mitchell
8. Linus and Lucy–Vince Guaraldi Trio
9. Il Est Ne Le Divin Enfant–Cris Williamson and Tret Fure
10. Mary’s Boy Child–Boney M
11. Winter Wonderland–The Eurythmics
12. Light of the Stable–Emmylou Harris
13. The Christians and the Pagans–Dar Williams
14. Hard Candy Christmas–Dolly Parton
15. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/We Three Kings–Sarah McLachlan and Barenaked Ladies
16. Ho, Ho, Ho and a Bottle of Rum–Jimmy Buffet
17. Christmas–Blues Traveler
18. Christmas Day–Dido

One of my favorite things to do is make mix CDs for friends and family (and occasionally just myself). For no particular reason I decided that I’d really like to start preserving my playlists, but I didn’t want them to be current posts. Fortunately I can backdate my posts, thereby creating a fake archive in which to store my playlists. Who knew blogging allowed time travel?