tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38740072011-04-21T22:06:31.861-05:00life is a bento box. eat it up.A.noreply@blogger.comBlogger551100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1648734123145572702007-10-01T13:30:00.000-05:002007-10-01T13:35:41.083-05:00

A mound of basil leaves are sitting in a bag atop my fridge just waiting to become pesto. Today is not the day. Maybe tomorrow.I am also pondering the possibility of making my own cultured butter. Several food bloggers tout the relative simplicity of this endeavour. Does this seem like madness?Maybe, but it tastes soooooo good.

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-76463178065204317672007-09-26T11:03:00.000-05:002007-09-26T11:44:07.066-05:00

I feel a bit like a paisley dress-wearing woman from the 1940s as the thought sighs in my mind: What a handsome young man!The young man being the 24-year-old reservist from Calgary, Cpl. Nathan Hornburg, who died Monday in a mortar attack as he stepped out of his tank to repair the protective vehicle, his only armour in the dangerous terrain.The old-fashioned thought leapt into my mind unbidden

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-91882915936986277642007-09-24T11:43:00.000-05:002007-09-24T12:08:30.203-05:00

My oh my. How long it's been since I sat down and recorded my thoughts on this ole blog.I sometimes wish I could be more devoted to it. Writing free of the newsroom restraints would do me good. The cliches of news writing, I fear, have taken a heel to my creativity, grinding it into the ground. Sometimes I write in my journal and find that the only words that pop into my head are ones more

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-39211952938264253932007-09-24T11:22:00.002-05:002007-09-24T12:13:40.516-05:00

You too can spell with Flickr images: http://metaatem.net/words/

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-30732942444791132322007-04-08T13:52:00.000-05:002007-04-08T14:16:15.525-05:00

Is there an internet addictions anonymous group? Because I may have to sign up.Facebook, iTunes, three e-mail accounts, MSN Messenger and a host of blogs: the list of oft visited sites is lengthy and increasing by the day. Checking all these sites is eating up all my free time. Is that wrong?I decided to spend a little extra time online and fill out a questionnaire about whether I am indeed

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-77130802499503034832007-04-01T17:26:00.000-05:002007-04-01T17:41:51.249-05:00

Am I too old for Easter egg hunts?Why is it children have the drive to spend countless hours searching for little chocolate eggs and hollow chocolate bunnies? Perhaps it's their inability financially to purchase those treats. As an adult, I can just grab one of the shelf and pay for it.And yet ... there is a certain delight in finding hidden treasures.The Easter egg hunt is one tradition my

A.noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-70667431684923922172007-03-14T21:57:00.000-05:002007-03-14T22:06:50.762-05:00

There are things that amuse me ... endlessly ... for no particular reason.I present you with "Mansbridge Heat Vision." Perhaps it's the word choice or the fact that it was the No. 1 search according to Cbc.ca's homepage.Or just maybe it was the comic relief I was desperate for in a day thick with sad stories: A three-year-old bitten in the face by a dog, a mother sentenced for leaving her toddler

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-15082594423903936552007-03-11T20:32:00.000-05:002007-03-11T20:44:27.690-05:00

It's been awhile since I've written here. My excuse: my laptop was being problematic, and then my laptop got stolen out of my apartment.Now, I've got a swanky new iMac with no such problems ... yet.Anyways, I'm not even sure how to do this. I feel like it's an awkward reintroduction. So instead, I'll leap into something else.I've discovered the nicest little (somewhat healthy) treat in my

A.noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1161399342498925122006-10-20T21:31:00.000-05:002006-10-20T21:55:42.513-05:00

A TV-less state is not one without news, pop culture and entertainment, as one might assume.Since I moved to Toronto more than four months ago, I have been one of the few TV-less. (There are others out there. You need not fear them.)One might wonder, what is it like, to be without a boob tube? How do you get your daily minimum of one-hour of after work mindless entertainment? How do you get your

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1161298650280017472006-10-19T17:56:00.000-05:002006-10-19T17:57:30.293-05:00

I sit beside a veteran journalist who was formerly a TV reporter. He knows politics, all politics, and spews decades-old facts and stories like he's telling you what he had for lunch.But there is a thick air of bitterness he exudes from time to time. It comes from the perception -- some real, some perceived -- of becoming sidelined in a media industry obsessed with the younger and younger.It

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1161044943324390922006-10-16T19:02:00.000-05:002006-10-16T19:29:03.340-05:00

I was grumpy when my boss saddled me with the heavy responsibility of manning a municipal election site.Who cares about municipal politics? I thought.Then I thought, why the hell don't people care about municipal politics?If there is anything we were taught in journalism school, it was that people are most interested and passionate about whatever is happening in the vicinity of their home. The

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1160965523207696752006-10-15T20:48:00.000-05:002006-10-15T21:25:23.216-05:00

3 things that could induce slight madness:1. Gobs-MAC-edTo all Mac users, God forbid your much-loved, much-admired computer go on the fritz. Call the Help Centre, it's $59.99, thank you very much for an over-the-phone session that may or may not help.Not your technology of choice? Want a human? Make an appointment. But, here's the catch: No advance booking. It's day-by-day baby.Check out our

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1160617553305730412006-10-11T19:16:00.000-05:002006-10-11T20:45:53.323-05:00

Why is it every time I mention that I plan to go to India people quirk their head and twist their eyebrows out of shape?It's starting to make me feel like I'm missing out on a big secret.Everytime I tell someone, I pull my head back, waiting and expecting that nose-scruncher of a face. I have to fight an impulse to peak behind their back, as if it could reveal the secret.India, in my mind, is not

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1160533714867242752006-10-10T20:50:00.000-05:002006-10-10T21:28:34.876-05:00

If anyone remembers Labour Day weekend, it was dreary and depressing. Everyone came away disappointed that Mother Nature had spoiled the last good weekend of the summer.Well, she redeemed herself this Thanksgiving weekend when she doled out three generously warm fall days.I soaked it in with a long, lovely walk from the Annex to the lake, where I sat and stared and thought for over an hour. In

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1160410569247567542006-10-09T11:07:00.000-05:002006-10-09T11:16:09.260-05:00

My computer, lovingly named Ralphie after the Simpsons' character (not for their mutual social ineptitude but for my own amusement), is ill and dying a slow death. He is four years old.J. dropped off his turqouise Toshiba laptop last night. I promptly set up the Internet. It's only for a week. And mostly because I'm getting my wisdom teeth out on Friday, and to be without a television or a

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1159399576958392712006-09-27T18:11:00.000-05:002006-10-02T19:58:46.826-05:00

Sometimes work days are painfully dull or painfully busy. Then again, sometimes work days are just painful. Today was one of those days.I toppled on my way back to the office from lunch today. I say toppled because my knees buckled and slammed into the tiled floor with a bruising thud. Some cleaner, instead of mopping up a soupy mess just outside the doors of an exit, just put up a bright yellow

A.noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1159233861348549172006-09-25T20:05:00.000-05:002006-09-25T20:24:21.363-05:00

Thing I learned on Sunday #1: If you want to get ahold of the elusive A., try accidentally calling her.I have spent days trying to track down that girl to no avail. That's despite her having a cell phone. Yet, the day I'm shopping and my purse does some impromptu dialing without my knowledge and she actually answers her phone ... to hear me talking and walking and going about my day. I somehow

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1158889442662243992006-09-21T20:39:00.000-05:002006-09-21T20:44:02.676-05:00

I have to admit feeling more than a little thrilled at the fact that I was hobnobbing with G&Mers and listening to reporters and copy editors chitchat about how various papers deal with Blatchford and other star reporters who seem to think they're beyond reproach.Basically, it comes down to the inside gossip and all reporters like to feel like they're in the know.Tee hee. ;)

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1158804061729993472006-09-20T20:19:00.000-05:002006-09-21T20:07:10.876-05:00

In the past six days, I've had four cancellations of scheduled plans to meet up with friends.Because my first impression of the T-dot was it was a land of schedulers, I put my faith in having inked in a brunch or a cocktail or two. But as with any stereotype, it's eventually proven hard to stick in a box.Fortunately, I still have friends and met up with two in the last two days. Both spontaneous,

A.noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1158620654273593772006-09-18T17:43:00.000-05:002006-09-18T18:08:51.033-05:00

Apparently I am physically the "twin" of my sister, B., according to my closest friends who delight in telling me it over and over again.We also have a similar sock-it-to-you, no-nonsense humour and the ability to reduce each other to giggles.Yet our career interests couldn't be further apart. Me, the journalist; she, the dentist-to-be.I write about gruesome murders but can't bear more than a

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1158187298371327592006-09-13T17:22:00.000-05:002006-09-13T17:41:38.433-05:00

Even in my fuzzy sick state, I am obsessed with absorbing every minute detail about the big news of the day -- the shooting at Dawson College in the heart of Montreal.It's horrific and unimaginable and I have to admit that when I first saw an alert on the wires, I wondered if it was even true.But it is confirmed. Police shot dead one gunman after he critically wounded at least eight people and

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1157818496686764912006-09-09T09:19:00.000-05:002006-09-09T11:14:56.750-05:00

Japan scared the fear of embarrassment right out of me, or at least most of it.Scared to sound foolish speaking a foreign language? Tough.Worried about acting the clown in front of a class of jittery kindergarteners? Suck it up.Made a major cultural boo-boo like forgetting to slurp your noodles or even worse trudging out of the bathroom in the dirty plastic bathroom slippers? Whatever.It was loud

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1157680590861404092006-09-07T20:32:00.000-05:002006-09-07T20:56:30.940-05:00

Exhaustion does not become me. Nor is it conducive to my work.But I have to say, the worst part about being insanely tired is waking up after a 15-minute nap that accidentally turns into two hours and you're covered in a pattern of red sleep lines, your throat is as parched as a Sunday morning after the bar, your eyelids are two heavy velvet curtains and daylight is fading into night.I don't like

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1157506101399709672006-09-05T19:53:00.000-05:002006-09-05T20:28:24.126-05:00

I like cooking. It's cathartic and tasty. A great combination.And I like that as with most things in life, the end result depends heavily on the quality of your ingredients.Tonight, with a few fine fresh ingredients, I impressed my own picky taste buds with a homemade marinara sauce. It was so simple, just the way I like my recipes. Those that make it into my repertoire must be simple enough to

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1157423339410591452006-09-04T17:50:00.000-05:002006-09-04T21:28:59.480-05:00

I woke up Monday morning feeling like a hungover wreck. I blame oversleeping.My weekend was spent in the lap of relaxation -- sleeping, eating, swimming, and lying around at a cottage on Lake Muskoka. All with the heady scent of nature drugging me, making me drowsy.This summer seemed to stretch on forever, and the weekend retreat to the countryside served as a nice bookend to a summer full of

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1156905942330009182006-08-29T21:36:00.000-05:002006-08-29T21:45:42.346-05:00

I'm exhausted. Hamburgers, wine and some good ole ice cream will do that to you.I went to an impromptu barbeque at a friend's house, and in doing so had some barbeque style fixings I'd never have associated with a big hunk of meat before.The bun was made of something not wheat. I can't remember the name of it -- sounded like spittle or spectle or something. (somebody please tell me!) And the

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1156818033073561442006-08-28T20:51:00.000-05:002006-08-28T21:20:33.170-05:00

I was over scrutinizing hair products in the 24-hour Shoppers Drug Mart near my apartment when I heard it: the familiar hum of Japanese.Two teens chatting as they weaved in and out of the aisles. They stopped to pick up a few Herbal Essences bottles, commenting on how popular they are.Then, as they passed me by, they remarked how small I was. Likely, they were talking about my face.In Japan, they

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1156387125007528232006-08-23T21:22:00.000-05:002006-08-23T21:38:48.973-05:00

My birthday began yesterday with a birthday wish from A. She said it was so I could carry the wish through the next 24 hours.I also bought myself a massive pink daisy and placed it in my favourite vase, a small cylinder one that hangs by a string on the wall.There are few things I need for a good birthday: flowers (preferably hand-picked from a field), brownies (preferably homemade by my

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1156302539370621432006-08-22T21:52:00.000-05:002006-08-22T22:08:59.436-05:00

My family is a little bizarre, in a sweet way. Nothing demonstrates this fact more than birthdays, Christmases, or really any excuse for presents.Tonight I ripped open my two birthday parcels from the homeland the night before my actual birthday. Honestly, I expected books, clothes, gift certificates.Here's a glimpse of my actual birthday haul: A set of steak knifes. A nightgown. A

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1156216978492157142006-08-21T22:06:00.000-05:002006-08-22T22:09:57.086-05:00

I once got hit in the stomach with a baseball bat.Needless to say, I do not have an affinity for the game.Tonight, I joined a group of friends for dinner at Casey's, hiked a few blocks over to Rogers Centre, and sat through five innings of the Blue Jays against the Oakland Athletics. Or the A's as they were referred to in one newspaper story... hence me thinking that was actually their

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1156033113432769162006-08-19T18:37:00.000-05:002006-08-19T19:18:33.503-05:00

If I was a plant, I would be a jade plant.No, I wouldn't. But what a concept. What if we were plants? An easy how-to guide for each plant would be right at our fingertips.One of the books that makes it to my bedside most often is my Encyclopedia of Container Gardening. It was a steal in the Chapters bargain section for a mere $12.99.The best section is a summary of each common container plant and

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1155770645709648932006-08-16T18:19:00.000-05:002006-08-16T18:24:05.723-05:00

thank you for the flourish of text about my blog, K. (check out her insightful blog Relishing the Fray) I now feel the pressure to perform. Perhaps with a poem or two. about food, no less, or even better, the lack thereof.funny how a fridgefull of foodlooks empty on a ravenous stomach,like nothing could possiblygarble itself togetherinto something presentablequickly enough to feed it beforeit

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1155603532921170562006-08-14T19:40:00.000-05:002006-08-14T19:58:54.590-05:00

Pardon me for a second while I think of all the things I can't really say....You know, I would almost rather ponder, mull around the ribbons of thought streaming in my head than write some inane post I can barely concentrate on.That is the problem with this blog. If I were to truly let go, imagine the things you would read. Actually, I think one can get quite boring tossing ideas egocentrically

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1155352547304948902006-08-11T22:00:00.000-05:002006-08-14T19:59:53.806-05:00

There is something refreshing about reading poetry cross-legged on a balcony, the chill of a cool summer breeze goosebumping your arms. Especially when you're reading Irving Layton.He is honest, brutally so. And not so verbose as to seem falsely poetic. The words in his poems punctuate every feeling, punching you in the gut with vivid emotion.And he even advises as much in his poem 'After

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1154872485994812562006-08-06T08:27:00.000-05:002006-08-06T08:54:46.080-05:00

I was waiting for my friend who was in the bathroom when I witnessed a prime example of our bomb plot fears playing out.A security guard swaggered over to a black bag sitting on the floor, no owner in sight. He grabbed a newspaper, rolled it up, then began shaking the bag open with it. A group of employees gathered for their lunch at the next table laughed and said, "Should we be leaving?""Nah,"

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1154734896161659002006-08-04T18:02:00.000-05:002006-08-04T18:41:36.223-05:00

What is it about beauty that paralyzes us, swirls around our head like a heady waft of laughing gas, makes us foolish?And sometimes, if it's beauty in the same sex, makes our heart droop until its tingling uneasily in the acidic pit of our stomach...It doesn't even make sense for me to feel that way, not really. I'm cute, I'm successful (or so people seem to think), I'm quite confident in who I

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1154299827253787332006-07-30T17:20:00.000-05:002006-07-30T17:50:50.440-05:00

I love the sound of silence, or rather to be more accurate, the sounds of life, of movement, of the moment. Unplugged, I listen to the droning of a lawnmower, the chirps of a swallow and her chick, the tap-tap of shoes on sidewalks as I walk home. Recently, I purchased a cell phone, a leap for me considering I've shunned the technology for the past two years. So, when I made the decision to leap

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1154189935460043742006-07-29T10:53:00.000-05:002006-08-14T20:00:42.300-05:00

I went to a keg party last night. I am way too old to go to keg parties.My friend S. and I knocked on the pulsating door, then swung it open and walked in (because who really knocks at a keg party). I felt like a spy, wondered if my outfit, my hair, my attitude might tip them off I wasn't one of them.A guy came up to us, said, "You guys looking to buy a cup? Ten dollars."After filling up on beer,

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1154041887577799442006-07-27T17:57:00.000-05:002006-07-27T18:11:27.623-05:00

Wet city, much like wet dog, smells bad. It's the kind of stink that fills your nose with its musty, rotten scent. And rain in the city is definitely not refreshing, not in the way raindrops on grass and trees clears your nostrils and brightens your brain.I imagine the smell of wet garbage juice does much to put one in a foul mood, as I was this morning.But that's the case most mornings. It

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1153102911706734022006-07-16T21:07:00.000-05:002006-07-16T21:21:51.730-05:00

From noon to 4 p.m., Torontonians were enduring a temperature of 40 degrees with the humidex. At 10 p.m. as I write this, it's at 37 with the humidex.I'm glad I didn't look at those numbers until now. My cranky mood would have cranked up to unbearable at the smallest suggestion it was justified.The hot weather was enough to prompt my sluggish ass out of my bachelor and onto the streets of Toronto

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1153028200641879692006-07-16T00:27:00.000-05:002006-07-16T00:40:08.506-05:00

I hesitate. My writing never hesitates so much as when I write this blog. At work, it is the reporting of facts, though sometimes I employ my sound judgment. But at home, in the uneasy comfort of my blogger page, I hesitate. And in that minute second, I lose my creativity, my inner muse. After all, what is creative writing if not the instantaneous discharge of thoughts through fingers?So, what is

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1152665885313341712006-07-11T19:44:00.000-05:002006-07-11T19:58:05.326-05:00

there are book consumption droughts i suffer from time to time. actually, most of the time. whereas in my youth i gobbled books with an insatiable appetite, now i nibble, and often discard.i think it comes with higher expectation and stems from the thinking that i should be consuming thought-provoking books, which often manifests itself in the form of non-fiction. or is it a case of an appetite

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1152421732546984322006-07-08T23:30:00.000-05:002006-07-09T00:08:55.146-05:00

There was a summer sale at Chapter's on maps. I'd been meaning to buy a map of the area since the day I arrived. The two combined led me to purchase a 2006 Perly's Toronto and Area Map Book -- my comprehensive guide to this bohemoth of a city. Hundreds of non-glossy pages awaiting my perusal. I flip the hundreds of pages under my nose. It smells like the beginning of a road trip -- all new and

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1152053773389493622006-07-04T17:55:00.000-05:002006-07-08T23:29:33.543-05:00

ode to coronatopped and popped with a lime wedgeI flip it, hand clasped firmly on the lidletting it fizz and spit in ragea foamy oasis spouting water in a dusty desertI gulp itlifting my face to the sunit slips easily down my throatlight dew of the summerleaves me heavy in its wake

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1151981112697268722006-07-03T21:14:00.000-05:002006-07-03T21:45:12.760-05:00

Pride Parade: the Quintessential Toronto ExperienceThe sticker on his ass says "No Queen Left Behind." And yes, I zoomed in on it.Bride-to-be... on stilts... fallingRainbow brite queenUnfortunately my batteries died, and therefore did not get pictures of the elderly naked men with cockrings (and balls); the RCMP newlyweds (with the sign 'Mounties always get their men' on their backs); the dozen

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1151979089558353422006-07-03T20:52:00.000-05:002006-07-03T21:11:29.593-05:00

the inaugural barbequei went to jeff's new house tonite. it involved travelling to a new part of the city of Toronto... my new home. funny that this blog, as few posts as it has, has included posts from four different homes: kuriyama, japan, manitoba, ottawa and finally toronto. so, as with any outing in toronto, tonite was an adventure. it was one of many firsts. i travelled east on the subway,

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1151960527703027162006-07-03T15:15:00.000-05:002006-07-05T20:46:14.996-05:00

indulgencesi can't even describe it. i tried. but all i could think of was every cliche, every metaphor you've heard a million times. "it" being the taste of strawberries. three pints of them. three pints of miniature balls of taste explosions. andrea, jeff and i spent one hour saturday crouched in a field in the bright noon-time sun, on a treasure hunt for strawberries. plucking them from the

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1133674191338059152005-12-03T23:04:00.000-06:002005-12-03T23:32:13.156-06:00

the bars beckon me tonight.i hear it in a high-pitched scream outside my window and the faint and frenzied music humming through my ceiling.life is good. i want to celebrate. at least that is what i think in the moments when i sit back and mull over the happenstances of the last week. the help of a friend and some seriously bold moves landed me in the newsrooms of a daily for a few contract

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1130651130671373662005-10-30T00:36:00.000-05:002005-10-30T00:46:58.430-05:00

Pensive

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1130650037314207792005-10-30T00:16:00.000-05:002005-10-30T00:29:17.166-05:00

For the last two years, the following poem struck me to the core. I sympathized with its very mood & message. Here is a bite of Canadian poet Endre Farkas' poem "Old Country Talk":There are times like alwayswhen we feel as if we are immigrants in ourselvesWhy we left Wherewe do not knowand even if we didthere is no choice about arrivingWe are given a threadbare shapeinto which we

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1128344460333274042005-10-03T07:48:00.001-05:002005-10-03T08:01:00.340-05:00

someday I will look upon these days and i will sigh at my ridiculousness for never thinking they would pass.i know they'll pass but right now the world is a very dreary place and i'm running in circles in the downpour looking for the best place to shelter myself -- paralyzed by the idea that the safety niche i find is just that and not my dream house. i don't mind the onslaught of rain, being

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1127308563444749232005-09-21T08:13:00.000-05:002006-08-21T21:11:48.503-05:00

i don't know why they expect me to function fully so early in the morning.i arrive at 8:38. i e-mail. i drink my medium coffee (one sugar, two creams) and i blank out in front of the screen. there will be no work done until 9:30. but then i will work madly, frenzied by the coffee pumping through my system.i do not know why they expect me to work right away.i do not know why they expect me to work.

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1127247698412048112005-09-20T15:09:00.000-05:002006-08-21T21:15:22.766-05:00

In the world of the bento box, there is a place for everything, and everything has its place.We are brought up to believe that the same is true for life. Everyone has a destiny, and every destiny has its place in the big wide world scheme of things.At the same time, we are taught to believe that we choose our destiny. But it is either one or another. It cannot be both. The choice haunts me. It

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-1081299050942791672004-04-06T19:50:00.000-05:002004-04-06T19:54:30.936-05:00

I had totally forgotten about how I'd set up this blog almost a year ago. Then I was looking at old e-mails trying to clean out my account to accept some big files and voila there it was, sitting almost at the bottom of the bucket that is my hotmail account. Well, in a way, I suppose not much has changed since I wrote my first blog. I'm still teaching ankle-biters, elementary schoolers and

A.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874007.post-832838262002-10-21T00:35:00.000-05:002002-10-21T00:37:05.000-05:00

My first blog. How exciting. Right now, though I don't much feel like writing since I've had six hours of sleep and spent the morning running around with 20+ ankle-biters. All I want to do is curl up in front of the TV with a hot chocolate and watch Amelie. But instead, I am typing with my numb fingers in my Board of Education, just waiting, waiting for 4:15 to roll around. Alright. That'll be

A.noreply@blogger.com0