writing

Journal entry for August 6

One week ago, August 6, was my first time taking part in an event called Do Nothing But Read Day. Sounds right up my alley, right? Of course it is. But sometime during the afternoon, my mood took an extreme downward turn. Later in the evening, after a nap, I tried to capture my thoughts

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An apology of sorts

On March 2, I started writing something that I expected would be a blog post. It’s now March 13, and that piece still isn’t done, and I’ve neglected to post anything else here in the interim. The conundrum is that I’ve really been wanting to do more writing, but no matter how many ideas I

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Short health update, in longhand

I recently decided to keep an old notebook (actually a cool “blank book” I’ve had for quite a while) close by me, and hope to jot down activities and thoughts as they happen. I wrote these pages yesterday morning before my radiology tests, and early this morning. More to follow, I hope sooner than later.

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What I would write if I had time, and quiet:

An essay on Lost, with a focus on the finale. Yeah, that’s the big one, if ever I might get to it. But also:a post for FreeVerse this coming Wednesday;a reading update, in which I’m stretched in at least four directions;a review of On Beauty by Zadie Smith, with nods to E. M. Forster and

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List of things to do… Write a book?!?!?

Last Saturday, I made a list of things I needed to do on Sunday. It looked like this:–> call Grandma A.–> update checkbook (did I get paid this week?) & pay bills–> update Google calendar with game & picture changes–> housecleaning–> switch purse back to black one On Sunday, I saw that Jeff had added

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A blah blah blog post

So I have a little bit of “home alone” time, and so many things that I could do, and a few that I probably should do, like walk on the treadmill (and that would also mean watching Lost from two nights ago, and it’s supposed to be an amazing episode, but yeah, I don’t think

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Of Paper, and Its Work

For weeks now, Jeff has had piles of paperwork and folders set aside in an area of our bedroom, waiting for me to sort through them and determine what can be recycled. This morning, after sleeping in, I woke to a few inches of snow, which immediately pushed away any ambition I might have had

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Article on Roger Ebert brings me to tears. (What’s new?)

I’ve already been on the computer too long, need to get myself changed and on the treadmill and ready for Lost (wahoo!), but I just read this WHOLE article and it’s just fantastic. It’s a feature article about Roger Ebert in Esquire, and dammit, it made me cry in a few different places! The article

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Reading, writing, and breathing

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.—Henry David Thoreau (Walden, 1854) I am thinking this evening about quiet desperation. My feeling tonight is not quiet, but angry and restless and relentless desperation.—written by me, on Sept. 24, 2009 This past Thursday evening, I slid into a terrible dark mood. I wrote a blog,

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I can’t find the time to tell you

When I was young, maybe six or seven, I remember one time I was sitting on my dad’s lap, listening to records with him. A song came on that I didn’t recognize, and I asked him what it was. He said, “I Can’t Find the Time to Tell You.” I was quiet for a few

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