i'll let you know when i get there

and it's been happening where i get unstuck in time... where all of the sudden i start feeling  intensely.  all the voices around blur into very distant sounds like something whispered over a hill.  I read "But she did look back, and I love her for that because it is so human" and that just gets me every time- what is it, 4 times now?  5?- and all of the sudden the feeling  of it is all i can do.  want to dwell in it and burst out of it and share it and keep it for myself.  vonnegut's nearly got me in tears.  who cries  reading vonnegut? i do. i could.  i nearly did. in the fall after a few million dollar weeks when i'm feeling so strong and vulnerable.

So I guess my brother earned a spot in some sort of sharp shooter competition.   He'll be competing against 3 other guys for some sort of Top Gun recognition. top gun and i am supposed to feel proud of his accomplishment, but i keep thinking that that sharp shooting may one day be used to potentially end another living, breathing, feeling, thinking person's life and that he will be praised for it and that he is being trained right now with that knowledge in mind and how far away from your own beating heart do you have to step in order to look at spilled guts and feel pride and i am supposed to feel proud and thankful and patriotic but  i do not.  i do not.   something in me rebels.   during night class before a discussion on gods go begging , i noted that you know a novel's really got you when you start cursing in the margins.  the more i think about that phrase, the more truth i find in the idea. i find myself cursing in the margins of the gene...

A Short Cautionary Tale of Broken English and Agitation Once upon a time, a broke teacher answered an email from her college requesting editing help on a nursing student's thesis.  The teacher quickly googled going rates for editors, pitched a rate and landed the position.  The nursing student was to send her 60 page documents for revision on such a such a day, and it was to be completed by such and such a day.   The day came and the nursing student sent a document as well as a request that the teacher construct a few complex diagrams to accompany the report.  The teacher upped her rate, was approved, and spent five hours on a beautiful Sunday editing the work of a grown-ass supposedly educated college student whose writing would have earned a C (maybe) in her high school class.  The experience was painful, (containing gems such as "not only in the U.S, but nation wide), but the teacher consoled herself with the promise of a paycheck and the fact t...

I had a brief conversation with a three year old boy who didn't speak English.  He sat beside me and swung his legs on the bench.  We just looked at each other and told our own stories and derived our own meaning. Every experience of my life has led up to this exact moment. That is the thought that came to me on a Friday afternoon, while I was watching Judge Judy at the laundromat.

These weeks have been going just so quickly.  I just reached another end to another moleskine last night.  Before I retire it to the collection, I'm going to send some of the randomness from the last few weeks of thought out into the cyberspacial world.  So, bullets: the super duper weird way that all couples are:  the weird language & way of speaking to/at each other full of codes and signals and little things that mean big things and big things avoided.  patronizing or coddling or loving or joking-but-not-really-joking or joking-with-a-full-heart.  being on a pair is the oddest thing. "It's always everything at once" Sprinkling like a quiet cloud passing:  25 pencils and pens beginning to take a quiz Things that bug meeting people you think are interesting only to realize they're crazy mismanaged time everyone in the world's goddamned needs elitists that guy at open mic nights.  STOP COMMUNICATING WITH ME.  THERE IS NO REASO...

"You have to know that your life is empty before you can begin to fill it." i know nothing about war.  i was in a movie about a war once ( Wicked Spring ), but that taught me next to nothing.  i was the fiance who stayed behind while my man went and got himself killed in war. i learned about corsets and craft services.  nothing about real (or even movie) war. and then came gods go begging . this novel offered no solution.  the novel looks at the results of living in a patriarchal hierarchy that forces desire and domination into an inseparable definition.  a hierarchy that excludes the possibility of desire existing in a way that does not in some way take .  what i loved most was that it focuses on the  devastating effects this culture has on men.  sometimes it's easy to forget that women aren't the only ones who suffer consequences from the societal expectations we swim in.  this novel moved me to see th...

"What, baby?" "She left me." "Aw, girl.  Don't cry." "She was my best thing." Paul D sits down in the rocking chair and examines the quilt patched in carnival colors.  His hands are limp between his knees.  There are too many things to feel about this woman.  His head hurts.  Suddenly he remembers Sixo trying to describe the Thirty-Mile Woman.  "She is a friend of my mind.  She gather me, man.  The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order.  It's good, you know, when you got a woman who is a friend of your mind." He is staring at the quilt but he is thinking about her wrought-iron back...  Only this woman Sethe could have left him his manhood like that.  He wants to put his story next to hers. "Sethe," he says, "me and you, we got more yesterday than anybody.  We need some kind of tomorrow." He leans over and takes her hand.  With the other he touches her face.  ...