because you've missed her
A Monday morning photo of the girl:
Does it get ANY cuter than the girl with crosspaw? She'd just finished reading Cheryl Strayed's "The Love of My Life" and was thinking hard about how to respond.
Distraction number one from other more scholarly pursuits.
A Monday morning photo of the girl:
He's been bugging me for a while now to post pictures of his Don Ho souvenir from Hawai'i. See, we'd been planning our trip to Hawai'i for months before we learned of Don Ho's death in April. S. really wanted to see him on our trip. It would be untrue to say that that was S.'s entire goal for the trip, but close. He couldn't find a Don Ho bobblehead, so he settled for the next best thing:
This morning S. and I made pancakes together for the first time. Usually we just have separate breakfasts, mine a bowl of cereal, his an English muffin. Boring. But today we got out the griddle and made two kinds of pancakes: blueberry for me, pecan for him. Yummers.
I teach two sections of Advanced Exposition devoted to the personal essay. This is the third semester I've taught the course, but the first time I've had two sections. On Monday, I wrote here about how excited I was to be teaching Cheryl Strayed's essay, "The Love of My Life." And in the morning class, it was fantastic. It was essentially a love fest, all of us sitting around talking about what we loved about it. Sure, there were a few students who didn't quite love it, but they were able to see what she was doing and why she was doing it. The theme of that morning class became, in reference to the essay "how much honesty can we take?"
1. new Wild Blueberry Twist Trident--it'll knock your socks off.
Two days left of being 34. Once I hit 35, something happens. I become what is, in my mind, an official adult.
Monday afternoons are supposed to be writing time for me, before I go to my grad class at 5:30. I'm having a hell of a time. Not. fun.
Jesus H. I've been eating a lot of sugar lately. It just sort of creeps in.
Last night I resisted watching Grey's Anatomy. I read instead. A novel, not anything for school. I was so proud of myself. See, a couple weeks ago I renounced it for being so stupid, but last week I switched it on anyway cuz I was too tired to do anything else. It only confirmed for me how ridiculous it's become.
He composed this on Sunday, the morning after the Cubs collapsed. He recited it to me Sunday night, and I had to smile and have a meta-moment: how fun it is to live with someone with such a great sense of humor. I offer it here, unedited, for your pleasure.
Happy about Scrabulous on Facebook. This is why I joined Facebook. I have four friends and I feel like I'm 13 years old again, wondering if I'll ever get more friends. And what I have to do to get more friends. Of course, when I was 13 I wasn't stepping back and wondering whether quantity of friends really mattered. Cuz, you know, four's a nice round number.
Yesterday I put in an order for some fall weather. Um, hello, I like hot weather and all, but not at the beginning of October for days on end. The reason I love October (aside from the obvious reason of PRESENTS! for my birthday) is the cool, crisp weather and the crunchy leaves. Pittin' out in class is not fun in August, never mind 8 weeks in.
I feel a little bit like I've lost a good friend with the Cubs no longer on every day. Worked and worked all day yesterday while S. did manual labor downstairs installing parquet flooring in the hallway. A test-run for the parquet we want to install in the kitchen. Not bad, not bad. Not great, mind you, but that's what accent rugs are for.
Game 3, Saturday evening, over a frozen California Pizza Kitchen pizza (holy shitters, was it good. The Margherita, people. Get it. Crispy crispy):
S. and I have recently made a pact to stop spending money on stupid shit that only clutters up the house. But when we went to Target the other day and spent a few minutes in the Halloween aisle (always a bad idea, what with all that chocolate), and we got a glimpse of Trick or Tater, we could not resist. I shelled out the $5 for him happily. Here he is dressed up in one of his outfits, my favorite:
Last night I watched our taped version of Grey's Anatomy, and Jesus H. on a popsicle stick, I almost turned it off halfway through. Come on with the deer and shit. Why didn't I turn it off? I wanted to see what happened with Meredith and her "sister." But I really do have better ways to spend my time. Even Katherine Heigl looked ridiculous as her character was trying to find out what George did on his vacation. Come on. Grey's, I renounce you. Set the DVR to not record from now on. Lordie pie.