i'll let you know when i get there

A consistent urge to utter forgive me forgive me forgive me And a consistent whisper in return of course of course of course A source of exoneration. A place to adore and to repent. Something like a bow. the desire to confess to be known utterly and to still hear yes.

 Seems legit. One girl's contribution to the class potluck:

me: -That place was magic to us.  Magnetic, still. -And ordered pizza?  I think that was the first day I tried on skinny jeans. -Took 3 naps today.  Ate two corndogs.  Gonna go read about wolves for awhile.  LIVING. -Is this what will become of us?  These concerns?  These fixations? -And bouncing around in slow motion!  It's almost unbelievable.  Almost. -Are you thriving or surviving? -Yeah, ouch.  It hurts.  Sorry in advance.  Proceed with caution. -Little by little.  maybe maybe.  Try try try. them: -Lightning strikes. -There is no such thing as growing out of a mole. -We will come back to this place. -Do you want a banana?  I've seen you eat a lot of bananas. -If your farts were visible would you still fart in public? -Deal -Don't leave without hotdogs. -Yeah.  Struck a nerve.

loving is a dangerous thing to do even in small amounts every expansion and every release comes with a stronger contraction of doubt this is the best that i can do- considering all (considering all) words that have been rehearsed and said are very easy to say again and the deeds, they speak for themselves but then an uncomfortable descent (Morrison knew) a reckoning with some rusted memory box an urge to apologize  incessant chattering, clarifying nothing lonely for the lie for all of my attempts my best won't be enough again the offering is exhausting   giving away your tells opening up your insides to an unforgiving, harsh light scrutiny (repulsive) it's hard to remember what it feels like, now to have laid it all bare and to still be there or how it ever felt right before rusted rust and grey- a winter array you knew that this was coming resting consuming investing clothing stepping growing s...

Seems like everyone's feeling a little defeated around this time of year.  A pressure cooker of obligations in every walk of life.  The students are two scantron bubbles away from insane, and I'm about one cafeteria meal away from joining them. Today I had to exercise my Mandated Reporter title based on what a student wrote in her warm-up exercises.  I can't remember ever having to do that before- at least not to this extent.  When I read it, everything slowed right down for a second- and then everything sped up.  A rush.  A life saver thrown to sea.  Please, don't be too late. I'm not sure how to even feel.  I feel a lot.  I don't know what that means.  I could have identified a bit of melancholy, but I had no idea of the extent.  Some people bear the weight so silently.   I thought of her for the rest of the day.  And on the drive home.  And throughout the evening. I wonder if she's ok right now.  W...

Throw yourself into an all-giving ocean. Name it after a hurricane. Drift awhile on some new wetness. Thrash around longer than you should just to defy the drown. The tide comes and goes. It'll always go. Linger Longer Then less and less Sn  a  p Ssssssssssnake $79.99 Sssssssssshhhh Esssssssssssss No need to Ssssswallllooww Hisssssssssssssss Hollow words Coiled somewhere snug Safe, stifled and starving Release it up my sleeve. You've really got a Hold on Hollow Is it me (you're looking) PLAY Come on. the past is prologue he said that once, to her and now there's a baby baby and some could have but didn't. A prolonged production of the most important part.  Proper then primal. Prepare. Postpone. Perform. paddle paddle paddle. Process, perhaps. This is all foreplay. This is all foreplay. This is all.

i have a sense for poison, now. a recognition in a tone. a calculated mystery. a silence where there should be sharing. a rush of words to cover some shame. an eagerness to be pleased. an excuse for not pleasing. those voids- - - black holes of adoration. even now, finishing arguments. honest conversations with the walls and a fist locked firm around some old vial. riots in some middle state. people losing lives and friendship and security. we watch from the coast with eager, hungry eyes. follow the minute-by-minute just to know how safe we are. my blood runs too- safe and contained watching smaller dramas unfold watching from some safe seat like a voyeur for heart violence there is a draft in here in need of an edit this doesn't deserve another grappling poem romancing the poison exonerating the pain it all feeds the vacancy that should be left to starve dry the cycle the magnetic shift, i want to be separate from it. another swearing off- - - ...

"Wild Geese" You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the  prairies  and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the c lean  blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the  wild geese , harsh and exciting - over and over announcing your place in the family of things. -Mary Oliver "the kind steeped in books, with a curious eye, a digger, someone unfond of the common question.  a rarity, not a kind of person at all, but a singular example of personhood."

i found this gem in the back of a student's notebook left behind from last year.

when you let international students choose their own poem to recite, and you include Bukowski on the list of author options...

there is all this to do at the start who am I who am I not who might I be for you with you to you after you where does the line of the I stand firm and where does it topple over to stretch to something wider and when does a stretch mean a break? (threaded bare tears streaming down the sides bring the pain bring the pleasure two's company THREE's company I'm ready for anything prepared for nothing you'll have to take me as I am take me take) "until there's one you can't ignore" what is wanted here? what do any of us truly want that we can even name? acronyms to infinity cut to the chase dial it back double check before you send there are no promises to make (There was never time. That was always the reason offered. Never time for old and new.  But now there seems to be. Now there's time and now you do. There wasn't time for me and you. You must have been done long before I knew.  And there I was still trying. St...

"i always feel like such an outsider when i walk down the streets here" she says almost every time she visits it's after labor day and she's wearing white.  she has no idea that there are rules. on a grey tuesday, we go to the museum of tolerance this was her only real goal for her visit- the only place she knew she wanted to go fifteen minutes into the tour,  she leans over to me "what does antisemitism mean?" she asks the part of me that, three years ago, would have judged her so harshly for being so out of touch with the world- for her inexperience- would have been so embarrassed about her ignorance- now burst at the seams with a sort of compassion that is new Her voice was so curious.  So genuine in her desire to understand.  So innocent. She's aging.  We both know.  She says.  I watch. She is slower to react.  Slower to acclimate to her surroundings.  Slower to recover from a coughing fit. And also Slower to judge....

They say that in dreams, teeth represent control. Last night I was in the backseat, my dad was driving me to the B's. Three of my teeth came out.  They came out easily, all at once. There was a lack of panic in my reaction. I wasn't upset. In fact, I felt relieved that we could turn around and go to the dentist instead of the B's because I didn't want to go visit them anyway.  I sat patiently during the drive, holding my teeth in my hand.  My dad, the worrier, was more concerned, but even he didn't seen too bothered. He knew a good dentist.  I later noticed that some of my bottom teeth were loose and wiggling too. When we stopped at the house and I looked in the mirror, I didn't think the gap from the teeth looked all that bad. Maybe even cute in a quirky way. I figured the other teeth would eventually shift over and make up for the absence. This bodes well for letting go gracefully. This bodes well for making peace with the gaps. Grow grow grow.

1.   Can the English writing people of Earth please agree to stop using "dat" for "that"?  When did that become a thing? It makes my innards shriek. 2.  2 chocolate chip cookies for dinner. Feeling myself lately. 3. This weekend I got out of my head and into my body, and it's astonishing how easily all that anger melted away. All that was boiling was caused by a speck.  All that incited has been dissolved. 4. Who are these instagram wonders who eat fancy eggs and drink the fanciest coffee served on perfectly crisp tabletops and linen every goddamn day? Who are they, where are they, and how do I get there? 5.  AND ALSO, let's just clarify that a moment is generally an ephemeral, very brief occurrence.  Let's stop saying "that moment when" you worked a 70 hour week or "that moment when" you try and try and nothing ever works.  Those are not moments.  Stop. 6.  and also too- man, the little hiccups of rage.  the little wishes t...

nobody's surprised when patterns repeat sad, maybe but not surprised there were lessons learned there and there are lessons i'm learning still

I don't really understand how gummy vitamins work. How is it all in there? How can we be sure that it is real at all? A cup of broccoli in a fruit chew. I do this thing. A perceived good. From a fear of unwellness and unknown terror I buy supplies. "you should date him," she says and it feels like a choice between never and forever a web wound tight, a comfort or a crime should maybe a label is a promise that takes a sort of faith but I've seen eyes gazing out from behind the curtain starved and full of shit looking for that easy swallow

I HAVE come to bury Love                  Beneath a tree,  everyone's best friend died today, In the forest tall and black      Where none can see. apparently.  he died in a hotel in mexico I shall put no flowers at his head,      Nor stone at his feet, while i am toe to toe with my own grief.   my hollow haunt. My real life ghost For the mouth I loved so much      Was bittersweet. deletedeletedeletedelete I shall go no more to his grave,      For the woods are cold. who stopped midsentence and left abruptly  I shall gather as much of joy      As my hands can hold. when something young and shiny stumbled by on the other side of the road I shall stay all day in the sun      Where the wide winds blow, -- and i'm heade...

  I need to leave these here.  We open tonight, and the impact that that process of the past few weeks has had on me just starting to sink in. I feel very... grateful.  And vulnerable.  And appreciated.  And emotional. I want to live always in this state of flow. Deliberately and engaged.

The vision nearly stopped me in my tracks.  Aesthetic excellence enough  to worship. And then she spoke.  Oh my god, when she spoke.  All spells were undone.  All magic, lost.  The youthfulness that poets praise, she warped to disaster.  Hardly recognizable.  Sloppy.  Something not brimming with curious yearning but fraught with gross need.  Falling all over herself.  Slurring words at 9:30 pm.  A spectacle.  An embarrassment to beauty.  Something to tolerate, rather than to adore. The ghosts have all gone hollow.  Nothing to fear and so little to envy- a quiet sadness in the graveyard.  I'm learning yearning anew.  An older longing.  A controlled draw. Steady, now. Steady.

Full brimming full.  Moved with the pulls of a thousand magnets, a thousand crests all beating to that same tide, graceful swings between delight and desire- sex and solitude.  The same streets, a year later- the same squalor sans the desperation.  Streets are directions, not deserts, and faces are curiosities, no longer lethal.  (Sometimes they even glow.) Old men remain old men.  I'm afraid there is no cure.  They were once young, just as desperate but less pathetic.  To find, after all the experience, that the most you can hope for is pity.  Maybe a kind look or a lucky gust of wind.  But to find yourself in that state with the same mad desires of youth.  Burning without fodder.  (I accepted the gift, a necklace, out of confusion and naivete.  The idea that he had bought it with intention,  for me.  The idea.) I saw her ex last night.  Thin.  Haunted.  Tortured like he was from the start. Balding...

We knew so many couples over the years through shared ceilings or floors or walls.  It seemed that some never made love, others never fought at all. At times we would bring the balance with carelessly loud love and sobbing, urgent arguments. Over time, we quieted too. Love became quieter, fighting gave way to silence. Careful acts of keeping words back. I saw - last night with a new passenger. Probably going somewhere that I wouldn't even want to be. But regardless, it left me feeling vulnerable. Replaceable. Uncomfortably human. Replaceable, despite my knowing better. But also, too, in truth. Anxious dreams. Undone deeds. Unspoken words. Unknown ends. Uncontrollable others. "so nothing's changed," - would say. maybe. probably. i'm losing that voice now. "come on, i'm not that bad. i'm not as callused as all that," - might say. maybe.  perhaps. I am losing my arm mass.  I suppose there is strength in definition. define me sometimes....

break a man by filling him up. a quiet mind and an absence of comparison talk to me talk to me talk to me this changes everything changes nothing heart handles & novelty men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men men man (maybe it's too late to say goodbye. can i try again?  another chance to say the end?) let's talk about leagues.  leagues and degrees of separation. talk to me talk to me talk to me (& a quiet mind) the truth is a moving target resist or qualify superlatives.  you are my favorite (right now).  you are the best (in that one particular way and in my limited experience).  the most and the least and never forever always will take on a grey state with a few years' blur.  most less most.  least more than least.  never retracted.  reversed.  the whole pedestal aflame.  the whole mounta...

A few weeks ago when I walked up to my car and realized someone had dented the side without leaving a note, I was surprised at how quickly I reached acceptance.  It was almost instant.  There was nothing I could do to undo it, and no one to blame.  I patted myself on the back for such perspective with special satisfaction. It's getting harder, though. I dropped my phone and cracked the screen a few weeks ago.  Got it replaced for $80.  Then a week later, I dropped it again. It's less shattered, but it wrecked whatever's below the glass.  The color fades in and out as weird lines appear at random. It'll cost close to $200 to replace. Sherman got into his second (and last) fight requiring a VET visit.  $500 later... He's back to ok. Bought a $400 ac unit and leave it on constantly out of necessity.  The bill is $200 a month and it's still 90 degrees in the middle of the day. Pour $400 into the car at the start of summer to keep it going. ...

And to think that after all that time and concern, that they were lessons I didn't really need.  To think that experience would amount to the same ennui.  To think that, even at finest offering, it would be revealed as even more secondary than I already knew it to be.  It's not the skin that stays. Sometimes some other magnetism remains. But the skin, the skin is all the same. A temporary escape. A moment of drowning. A panic and a relief.  Seeing, in an instant, the entire story play out. Anticipating the end even at the inception.  Your face full of disgust when it's me at your door (the last time). The regularity of a back turned toward me (i looked for you, but could not find you). All bound up in the same moment when you're pulling me in for those first times.  The deep taking in of scent.  The words we say in the beginning that feel new every time (they are all the same).  The calculated energy required to remain aloof and yet immersed. ...

Girls like us all cut our hair.  You could strike a match off of those new-found cheek bones.  You could drop a quarter down those eyes and never hear it hit bottom. Girls like us, we all cut our hair.  We're all the same.  You can find us anywhere and our worlds are always entirely brand-new.  We've all got some quirk or need or fragile point of view.  Some animal or affinity for fine wine.  Accidentally independent and asking without asking. And we'll grow it back eventually.  Out of rebellion or defeat or some holy combination.  We'll grow it back to disappear into.  Grow it back  when it's not good enough to be ourselves anymore.  Grow it back so there's more to play with, more to tease, more to pull when he doesn't seem to see you anymore.  It will be a long, drawn out resignation and, in the end, a victory. Girls like us all cut our hair.  You can look for it like a marker.  Some flag of readiness. ...

Then- Feet intertwined under sheets A desperate plea Reading, half clothed, in the living room An embrace, a racing heart, a release Caves The green light and misplaced longing Now- A glimmer and a glean Halls full of adulation, hours full of purpose Long walks home Mouth full of drought Lost weight Found strength There is no shortage But there is still that loss Then- A gallery of Places you are not Europe again, but through a lens A face on the border of your special day Paid More and more and less and less

Bare limbs and a cold wind howl. A winter vacancy. In a land covered in seeds Branches still reach for old leaves.

S:  So, I just found out that our groom today is the brother of Bradley Nowell. me:  I don't know who that is. S:  The lead singer of Sublime. me:  Oh, so he'll probably be here. S:  No.  He's dead.

I go walking After midnight Lord knows what I'm searching for But it's not where I left In my bed In my head And the stillness doesn't stick, Not yet.

As of today, I'm four hours stronger.  Which means I've taken 4 hour-long classes at Barre Releve.  Which means I have spent four hours staring at my body making awkward, ungraceful shapes in the mirror.  Four hours of frantic motion in absolute disbelief that I am that person in the mirror. How did it happen? I have an immense capacity for incredible fidelity to illusion.  Maybe it's my religious background.  My imagination.  My parents' divorce.  Who knows, but I tend to believe the BEST about myself and others until it becomes undeniably false.  In my mind, I was only a few 20 minute work-outs away from the racquetball shape I rocked in undergrad.  In my mind, the fact that none of my pants from a year and a half ago fit was just some accident of the laundry or a big dinner. But being forced to look at myself for an hour- lost like a chubby buoy in a sea of other bodies in yoga pants- made it impossible to deny that the best self I ...

heavy tonight pull of melancholy from no source just some echo from a distant surface there is no why and nothing pleases in a turn all that can excite suddenly will not after experience is a quiet hour or two a fruitless reckoning a necessary pause

Remember when I used to be comfortable taking selfies?  I think the last few years have brought in a bit of confusion for me there.  When I got the DSLR, phone quality photos just didn't do it for me anymore... and it's nearly impossible to take a decent self portrait with the Nikons without some serious forethought and set up.  So I just sort of stopped.  I disappeared behind the lens and documented to excess the rest of my world.  It sort of came in conjunction with a disdain for the way that so many women use selfies.  In my mind, selfies became directly related to cries for attention and a gross desperation for affirmation.  Even now, when people write flattering things on a profile picture, I feel weird about it.  As if affirmation of my looks points to my insecurities.  I don't know if that makes sense outside my head.  What I do know is that it's quite a bit distorted at its core, and I'm hoping to get it sorted eventually. ...

4 .

i went to the city.  i didn't find that picture and the ache felt far away.  now i'm in the country & there's some comfort in the rain. i'm hanging up my well-worn badge. i've looked and found for my last time. now i know that i can say never with utter peace of mind.

grief. deep. goodbye goodbye goodbye

like breaking a plate already cracked it came with little surprise in the space in between there is room for poetic sentiment and the pieces that are where the whole once was will find a new reason to be piece of time piece of heart piece of mind

1. i'm watching "her" for the third time and it still matter so much in so many ways.  it's so hard to watch.  and so comforting and true, too.  "the past is a story we tell ourselves" and the way it feels to be the only one in the world for awhile the reason and the purpose and how that changes inevitably. 2.  i quit my 3 day juice cleanse early. i felt awful yesterday.  today- day 3- i was holding out hope that i would feel that "radiant" glow that was supposed to kick in.  but i didn't.  i felt miserable and unfocused and fatigued.  and i wasn't sure why i was doing it anymore.  i have 3 more full bottles in the fridge, and i just stopped.  i just stopped and ate nachos with my friends. i was all set on finishing regardless of my miserable state, come hell or high water, because i'd spent so much money on the damn things.  it was a really hard reality to accept that something i'd spent so much on could maybe not be th...

you will get older every year find yourself repeating the same phrase patterns you picked up somewhere once and kept "seems like we were just here" and i'll say that again next year standing in that office with keys in my hand even though you're older and your life is full -nearly shining of full- there will still be nights when the whole world is asleep and you are not times when you need to work and you can't find the drive times when you need to stop working and you can't remember how some things you never get right with age today i finished watching the final episode of cheers.   began at the beginning and just watched on through napped through some only listened at times but i was there and when the ending came, it almost surprised me.   it took a sudden reflective turn old characters returned and left again and then the credits rolled a final time.   i had gotten so used to next episodes. i ...

1.  My life is full to the brim and I'm happy as a clam.  I could, however, use a nap.  Tired this week.  Excited for the year to come, though I wonder how I'll juggle a busier photog life with the usual school gig.  One more year. 2.  I picked up A BOOK this week.  Power to me.   The Elegance of the Hedgehog .  It's just right. 3.  A humble opinion whisper-screamed toward the world of photography:  ENOUGH WITH THE FLOWER CROWNS.  They've had their day.  Over em. 4.  The cultural shifts I've witnessed even since teaching here are pretty incredible.  I'm thinking especially in terms of sexual/gender stereotypes.  I wonder if the ubiquitous presence of social media in the lives of my students' generation has the effect of speeding up social conversation and, therefore, change.  It's hard to stay as isolated and ignorant to larger social dialogues if you're plugged in.  Makes me feel hopeful. ...

A few thoughts in a row: 1.  I listened to a This American Life podcast about France, and was pleasantly surprised to find out that I'm not the only one who doesn't get what's the big deal about Paris.  I don't get it. 2.  One year old crawler shoots with new clients-> exhausting. nerve-wracking, knee-bruising, non-favorite, hopefully satisfying. 3.  The whole idea of taking a bunch of pictures posed with the camera holding little signs with quippy or cutesy messages -> stop it. 4.  Robert Downs gave me permission to not get set in a particular style.  & he has that permission to grant.  i like his life... and i think i can have that too. 5.  only 5 more days with each class.  and 90 research papers to grade in between.  everlong. 6.  neighbor toni and i seem to have come to some sort of treaty agreement regarding cat turf. 7.  throw backs because i'm too lazy to upload the other ones from my phone right ...

this rant was all much longer in my head in the shower rant 1: there's this whole video called "Look Up" about how everyone is obsessed with their phones and as a result, family structures and the ability for people to make eye contact in real life are all rushing toward obsolete.  because of phones.  because people aren't really living  when they're on their phones all the time. hold up. these articles or videos or whatthefuckever almost ALWAYS make have a good chuckle with themselves for pointing out the irony of their medium.  "look! i'm chastising you for using social media ON social media!" please refrain from handing out clever badges quite yet.  you are not the first to note this irony  (thrilling word, isn't it?).  instead, you are like a smug pack of right wingers who hire Santa to bring the christ back in to christmas.  just stop already.  your dinosaur best friend is dead.  technology is here to stay.  stop telling...

1.  passed the pasta 2.  weeds:  season 7 3.

well, swell.  yesterday I shot my second (first-time-bigger-scale) wedding. 10 hours, 4,008 pictures, and 3 deodorant applications later- i'd say i did alright. :-/ = -unrealistic expectations.  i really should have had a second shooter.  it's hard to do anything well when you are expected to do everything. -"photo booth" shots are quickly becoming my least favorite request.  hire a friggin photo booth if you want someone to stand in one place and take pictures of the exact same thing for a few hours.  plus- in a wedding type context where there's so much going on, getting a pic of every single couple in that setting is stressful and impossible.  even if it's only 30 couples.  it's like herding cats and it takes my time and attention away from the couple.  never again without some serious conversation about expectations first. -uncomfortable and intoxicated older men.  they get grabby.  they get vocal.  they seem to feel e...

quick and unthoughtthrough state of the union. business is booming and i love it.  there are times during event shooting where i could just set down my camera for a few minutes and weep for joy.  i've had experiences like this before, but they are rare and have never been this definitive.  to feel like i am doing exactly what i want to be.  what i'm good at.  doing something that makes me feel most me.  it's powerful. after all of the changes of the last decade, i don't claim to know myself if definite terms anymore.  but i KNOW photography.  i know it to my core. so a helluva resounding YAY and weepy joy tears to all that.  enough to get me through these annoyances: 1.  because i have yet to make the leap to full time photog, i'm essentially working 2 full time jobs. frustrating and exhausting.  i'm handling it well, but i can't help but day dream about how much more i could do with all those extra hours and surges of energy...

the keys to the kingdom looks like a 30 day trial of amazon prime.  the sky opened up and the glory shone down in the form of scandal (season 3) and mad men (season 6).  technology, i praise your name.  goodbye world of people productive and brunching before noon.  hello, weeks of emotive entertainment.  alleluia.

It's hard to say exactly where the pain is felt- a phantom limb of sorts. It feels like a physical ache, but only after. To place the pain would be fix it on memory or hope something not inside or outside mixed up in past and futures and felt presently in no real way that can be identified so as to mend.

1.  i took a very long walk today.   i thought it was strange that the birds seemed to separate themselves by color.   2.  new neighbors  3.   4.

i do not believe that the act of giving is always to be praised. to give up. to give in. to give when you should not. to bend in ways that do not allow for straightening out again.  these days when every punctuation mark takes on some 20 layers of meaning.  the  presence or the absence of a particular inflection can be devastating. (She is speaking in codes again, she is speaking in that way.)  And this is no game of madlibs with some other voice filling in the cues for reconciliation or destruction, this is a game of One.  This is a game of one, and a page quietly turning. this is important. feel it all. 

chatty cathy asian eighth grader taking her placement test who, during the break, informed me all about her figure skating career who, during the math test, had to ask me what a can of tuna looks like who, at the end, asked permission to make her math scratch paper into origami you go right ahead 

1.  things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; mere anarchy is loosed upon the world; whatever, i'm going dancing.  went saturday.  danced a little last night.  would again if i could again.  i dare say it is impossible to be overwhelmed or unhappy while dancing.  you just wiggle it all away.  and on that note,  i REALLY want to work for myself sometime in the not too distant future so that i can maybe sleep in a little after my 31 year old body wiggles past midnight. 2.  i think Don't Trust the B... in Apt 23 is so great.  just really so great. 3.  saw "her" again.  laughed and cried still... sometimes my eyes welled up at just how beautiful the shots were.  that movie makes me want to take photos. 4.  last night james and lauren gifted me with a DELICIOSO jar of spicy pickles that i set on the passenger seat floor of my car while i went to j's holiday work party.  when i returned in a heavily alcohol ...

Camp Patton following little ol' ME?  day = made  i am not a mother and i am not catholic, but i just LOVE grace and her family and her writing voice.  i snortle at Conversations with Julia and Julia Styles every single time.  They just couldn't justify springing for the whole roll of border?  Is this evidence of the tight budget?  A faculty room mystery. true dat (remember when people used to say that?  it's uncomfortable). another faculty room mystery.  this little gem showed up after christmas break on the give-away/free table in a package.  no takers.  today i took it out of the box to inspect it a little more closely.  it makes my brain hurt so bad.  i just really don't understand.