-
Blind-sided and Gobsmacked
It was just a regular day, suddenly sucking. Very fatigued that morning, I managed to dress myself, even hooking my bra–not just letting The Ladies dangle and flap in the wind. I even managed to apply a little slap and hairspray, getting in costume to mimic an adult. Exiting the house, the door slammed
-
Ashen, Ashen, I Bawl and Fall Down
For the event of Niblet’s birth, we bartered for the services of a local doula (if you can’t buy the time of a lesbian who works at the Environmental Protection Agency for the price of a gallon bag of frozen pesto and a six-course feast including hand-made butternut ravioli…then it’s time to kvetch about the
-
Una Mas Mindy
The new semester looms, and while I attempt to ramp up the performance energy that is required to stand up in front of 25 dull-eyed under-the-table texters and actually get them to look towards the front of the room occasionally, I find myself missing last semester’s crop of students already. I mean, I was used
-
Surprisingly Inferior Tamales
I intend to type short, declarative statements. We just got back from 12 days in southern California. I had virtually no Internet access there. So I missed blogging and reading and such. But I put my feet in the Pacific and watched whales leap and had a ginger lemon mojito. I got by. Now
-
Who’s Your Daddy?
Back in the 1980s, I did the college gig all traditional-like. Squirming and chafing in Montana, I hit eighteen and began the countdown to flight. When the time came to start college, I viewed the 1,000 miles separating my new campus and my hometown as “a headstart on a life where I don’t work in
-
She Had Eight Weeks to Work on Her Final Essay, a Period of Intense Craftsmanship That Resulted in This Opening: ‘Are kids still talking to their parents? Well, some are but most don’t talk the old fashion way or the way they should, they now talk to their parents through texting and emails and once in a while, if you are lucky, a phone call (most likely from a cell phone)’
Gasping, flailing, wiping gunk from my eyes, I’m surfacing, turning my face up from the mass of research papers that has consumed my energies in recent days. Students have told me that Americans are obese; water is scarce; language is overly casual; music should be freely downloadable; smoking bans are good; coral reefs are dying;
-
Safety in Popsicles
I love winter for ninety-eleven reasons: 1) When I wear snowshoes, my size 10 hooves actually feel petite in comparison. This is also why I sometimes sport a pair of huge “We’re #1” foam hands when I teach sign language. 2) Scarves are the accessory that can never go wrong. I read this in
-
Boot Camp
I’m clearly not cut out for the military. I’m legally blind, poor in attitude, and slumpy in posture. The world is a safer place with me firmly installed behind a podium and a latte. However. Even though I have no desire to be broken down so that I can be built back up again in
-
Can’t Read a Face by Its Book
I’ve considered getting myself all Facebooked. Heaps of folks whom I like and admire, from George Will to Pat Buchanan to Ann Coulter, are on Facebook, and the idea of being able to poke them before spreading graffitti all over their walls holds no small appeal. But then I remember I have a blog
