O Mighty Crisis Stories

Wazzat? 18

Wazzat?

I recently had an email exchange with a college friend who reads this blog. The exchange started when she messaged to josh me, semi-accusingly, about the point in my previous post where I mentioned road tripping to The Alamo in Texas–yet I had not called or visited her (she lives...

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Narrative 17

Narrative

At my college, we offer regular, semester-length classes (sixteen weeks) along with a different option: the eight-week class. The eight-week option was created to help our students pack as much learnin’ as possible into the shortest reasonable time frame. One would be justified in having reservations about the eight-week classes,...

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Thirteen Years Since the Blue Moon 10

Thirteen Years Since the Blue Moon

You better believe I’m trotting out this old chestnut for its yearly airing. If there are any new readers out there, this’ll be a new one, but for many of you, it will be cause to muse, “Wow, another year’s gone by already?” For me, I like to re-run it...

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A Time to Every Purpose 17

A Time to Every Purpose

In the last weeks of his life, I would talk to my dad on the phone frequently. He was in Montana. I was in Minnesota. It was January, and at the same time his heart and lungs were deteriorating, my body was busy helping those same organs grow inside the...

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Feel Like Whistling Even With a Shoe Full of Slush 19

Feel Like Whistling Even With a Shoe Full of Slush

Didn’t February last about seventeen weeks? And then Daylight Savings slammed into our bodies–which were already trying to figure out how to get through a day without drooping. What’s more, we’re in the midst of a snowstorm here today, currently racking up 6-10″ new inches on top of the existing...

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My Rider Demands No Brown M & Ms, Imported Versace Towels, and Awesome Entrees 13

My Rider Demands No Brown M & Ms, Imported Versace Towels, and Awesome Entrees

This will be overkill for those of you with whom I’m friended on Facebook. Apologies. Feel free to shift into Long-Suffering Mode here. However, since there are still twelve people on the planet who don’t have Facebook accounts, I thought I’d share one of my recent happinesses here, too. A...

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Do Not Embellish Your Temple 16

Do Not Embellish Your Temple

Apparently, it’s International Women’s Day, which means I should be posting pre-packaged sentiments on Facebook that urge the world to treat dames better. I get that. Let me assure you I am made legitimately irate by the ongoing, centuries-old maltreatment of women. See how I made a sign, even? Feel...

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As God Is My Witness, Each Individual Shall Tote His Own Weary Load 12

As God Is My Witness, Each Individual Shall Tote His Own Weary Load

Behind our house, across the alley, there lives a cohort of quasi-charming renters. Moving in after several disastrous previous occupancies, this group of young men demonstrates that young folk renting a house together don’t have to be feral beasts lacking even the most basic notion of boundaries. I mean, seriously,...

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Hope All Your Tricks Are Good Ones 20

Hope All Your Tricks Are Good Ones

In line with my dislike of holidays and “planned happiness” is my aversion to greeting cards. For me, a pre-packaged sentiment drummed up for pay by someone who hates her job isn’t heartwarming. Nor is the fact that the sender found himself so unable to frame an original thought that...

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Ode an die Freude 13

Ode an die Freude

By the time I finished my first decade of life, I had learned to walk, run, ride a bike; play piano and flute; jeté like a big-boned ballerina possessed; babysit; and play Boggle. Also, I had boobies and was on the cusp of menstruation. By the time I finished my second decade...

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