O Mighty Crisis Stories

I Never Can Say Quite As Much As I Know 19

I Never Can Say Quite As Much As I Know

“I Never Can Say Quite As Much As I Know” –Robert Olen Butler The thing about attending an academic conference is that the days are packed so full of sessions and readings and “plenaries” that participants find their time booked from early morning until dusk. When attendees have taken several flights...

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Northern Ascendancy:  The Moxie of the Imperfect 19

Northern Ascendancy: The Moxie of the Imperfect

  I crossed a border yesterday. For a passport-toting white woman nowhere near Arizona, this should have been a straightforward endeavor. However, I failed to factor in that the airplane slotted to fly me out of Duluth was to have come from Chicago, and Chicago is windy and foggy and muggy and corrupt. Plus,...

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The Rare Photo That Captures Perfectly Each Kid’s Personality 19

The Rare Photo That Captures Perfectly Each Kid’s Personality

  One of these kids will grow up to teach in an elementary school classroom, run a human resources office, or become a sociological researcher. The other one will grow up to work as a Lego masterbuilder or–even better–a mad scientist. One of these kids passes spare moments sawing out...

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One of My Favorite ‘It Ain’t Over ‘Til It’s Over’ Examples 17

One of My Favorite ‘It Ain’t Over ‘Til It’s Over’ Examples

  While it always saddens me when my virtual life is neglected, I can’t mourn it too much when the neglect stems from a flurry of activity in my here-and-now life.  That is to say:  we have visitors this weekend, as we did last weekend. This time, our pals Virginia and...

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Just Read the Eudora Welty Story Already 17

Just Read the Eudora Welty Story Already

Summer session began last week, and I was immediately reminded that the nub of my job is closing gaps.  For everyone, college does some bridging:  from past to future; from who one was to who one wants to be; from never having had a beer to imbibing a twelve-pack every Monday (“Rock ON,...

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My Breast Hath All Those Pieces Still 19

My Breast Hath All Those Pieces Still

  A brief summary, in case you’ve been spending so many hours cruising awkwardfamilyphotos.com and bluntcard.com that you were too pressed for time to read the last few posts: So I had a break-up, and it took the stuffing out of me, and I cried a lot; and then I...

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Nothing Can to Nothing Fall (Part III of III) 18

Nothing Can to Nothing Fall (Part III of III)

(continued from the last post): Once I was plainly dumped, all the energy that hadn’t known where to land during the course of our relationship stopped spinning around up in the air. It came crashing down, thundering in like a freight train. I couldn’t fall asleep at night; to feel...

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Nothing Can to Nothing Fall (Part II of III) 12

Nothing Can to Nothing Fall (Part II of III)

  Continuing where the last post left off: Essential to my ultimate disintegration was the beauty of our beginning. For the next few months, I drove to his house—nearly two hours away—at least once a week. He made me feel doted upon, as though I was the final piece to...

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Nothing Can to Nothing Fall (Part I of III) 13

Nothing Can to Nothing Fall (Part I of III)

Even as it was happening, I didn’t realize we were breaking up. This time, I missed it because I was too busy cataloguing evidence that we were “together.” Certainly, I had acted the part. I drove once, twice, each week the two hours to his place. Once there, I shared...

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At One First Blow Did Shiver It As Glass 28

At One First Blow Did Shiver It As Glass

  Even as it was happening, I didn’t know we were breaking up. What I did know was that my guts roiled whenever I thought about him coming home. I’d had four months alone, living in that house, making new friends, starting a new job—while he lived an hour and...

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