Kids Have the Worst Timing

So it's my first week in the new office right? Wouldn't you know one of the kids would get sick? My oldest started to run a fever Sunday morning. Monday the hubby stayed home with him but I had to stay home today. The doctor has said he won't be able to go back to school until he's been fever-free for 24 hrs, so the hubby is planning on staying home tomorrow.

Fun stuff.

And That's That

I had envisioned my last day in the office to be one where my giddiness would drive everyone else to distraction. Instead, I worked my tail off and hardly socialized with anyone. I know my efforts will make a difference in the coming week but it sucked having to closet myself away in my office.

Once I finished burdening my already overwhelmed coworkers with the last of my various duties, I turned off my computer and the lights in my office. How empty the room looked. No pictures or childish artwork on the walls. Nothing remained of me. My lava lamp, my plant, my radio...all gone. Just as I would be in a few minutes.

I hugged everyone goodbye, determined not to cry (sSaying goodbye is never easy, not even when you're excited and anxious to begin anew elsewhere). Then I walked out the door with the last of my posessions tucked safely in my tote.

Monday begins a whole new adventure. Wish me luck!

The Difference in Paper

I own a HP Photo printer and I love it. But you know when the manufacturer tells you buying their paper really does makes a difference in print quality? Well, you really should heed the warning.

I wanted to print two five-by-seven prints on a piece of 8.5 x 11 paper. Unfortunately, the only paper I had in that size was not HP photo paper; it was Kodak. What a waste of ink! The difference in quality is amazing. I love how the printer works with HP photo paper but it totally sucks with non-HP brands of paper.

Looks like I'm going to have to order some HP photo paper. Now, what do I do with all the Kodak and off-brand photo paper I have laying around? Ideas anyone?

Checking In

I don't really have anything to say. Hubby is watching football, kidlets are in bed, and I'm left with some time to myself.

Today I managed to get the laundry down to manageable piles. I'd like to say it's all done but I can't. It's going to take more than one Sunday afternoon to catch up. I'll just have to be satisfied with clean towels and a variety of clean clothes to choose from for the upcoming week.

I also mopped the floor. May not sound like much but believe me when I say you can't believe the difference!

Once I had the house in order, I decided it was time to catch up on my journaling. I've been scrapbooking steadily over the last few weeks but none of the pages were complete because they were missing journaling blocks. I am a firm believer in journaling when it comes to my scrapbooks and do very few pages without at least a token entry to explain the who, where, when, and why depicted in my pictures.

Historically this hasn't been much of a problem because I tend to do most of my scrapping at home. Well, that's not necessary true anymore. My Tuesday night scrapbooking date with my mom is at her house, not mine. So I often do the pages and leave room for journaling. The problem is I don't come right home and complete the pages. I set them aside with good intentions I usually fail to follow through on.

Well, today I did journaling for my oldest son's first year of basketball, a fishing trip, and Halloween. Quite a wide range of topics there but I think I managed to pull it off.

Now I just need to get the pages of my desk and into their respective albums...


There are very few poems I like. The fault in many cases is not the author's but mine as a reader. How does one learn to read poetry? How to analyze it? Critique it? Appreciate it? Is it a developed skill or an instinctual one?

The art of conveying so much with so few words is awe-insipiring. Of course, that feeling only occurs on those rare instances where a poem resonates deep within me. Most of the time I'm simply baffled by the meaning, the hidden agenda buried deep beneath the surface. Am I trying to search out what's not there? Or am I blind to references others would find obvious?

I know very few poets. I tend to migrate toward other novel or short-story writers. These people speak to me on a level I can not only admire, but one I understand. While we may see things differently, I'm confident in my instincts. I know what good prose sounds and feels like, how it flows and ebbs. I can discuss point-of-view, themes, dialogue, monologues, plotlines, motivation, and a number of other writerly topics with some level of confidence.

Change the subject to poetry and I'm done talking. I'll listen but rarely do I comprehend. I have no insights to offer. My incompetence is vast and glaring when poetry is introduced.

Even when I recognize something compelling in a poem, I couldn't begin to tell you why it works. I don't understand the rules, of which there seems to be many. I've heard of them, been forced to study them, but I don't instinctively recognize errors more proficent readers would identify.

Now, this being said, I do read poetry on rare occassions. For my Latina writers class I have read several poems already. I also try to read my friend's poetry; I don't always have a comment but occassionally one will strike me as outstanding and I'll let them know. Today was such a day. I think this is one of the best poems I've seen Crystal write and I hope she's not offended if I point you in her direction.

Lily by Crystal (she's my babysitter! And already has a poem published in an anthology(?) I believe.)

Once again, well done, Crystal! I don't know why it works but it does.


Let's see...I hate mornings but not as much as I used to. Over the weekend I got my hair permed. Yes, you heard me, permed. I've had straight hair for several years now and I've liked it, but the truth is it takes me fives times as long to get ready in the morning when my hair is straight. I have to blow dry it and curl the ends if I want to look presentable. Because my hair is so thick, it takes 15-20 minutes just to blow dry. When it's curly, five minutes is all I need. Wash, gel, scrunch, bobby-pin, and go! 'Tis fabulous!

While we're talking about getting ready for work in the morning, I should mention I recently cleaned out my closet. I cleaned it so well, I threw away most of my wardrobe. (I still have the 40 gallon garbage you think there's a way to get these perfectly fine but out-dated clothes down to the Katrina victims?) I have a few pairs of pants and several shirts left but the pickings are pretty slim. I need more variety. Thus, I intend to slowly replenish. I'm thinking slacks will be the first thing I focus on.

Jumping to a new topic.

I've been training my coworkers on how to do my job. It's going well but I'm feeling a tad bit stressed by how long the process is taking. There's so much that needs to be done before I leave and I'm beginning to wonder how much I'll actually be able to accomplish. I don't like leaving a mess...and this job is a mess, especially when you consider it's the beginning of our busiest semester.

I also need to clean out my office. In five years I've accumulated quite a bit. Pictures of the kids. Artwork courtsey of the kids. Books. A plant. My radio. A lava lamp. A clock. Food. I intend to start bringing it all home next week.

Well, it's almost time to start the workday (I get here a half-hour early thanks to the bus route).


Over the last couple weeks I've heard so many disturbing stories and seen such unbelievable footage. My heart aches for the men, women, children, and pets whose lives were lost or destroyed. I can only imagine what it must have been like to survive the storm only to discover the danger hadn't yet passed. And even though I can imagine, I'm sure reality far exceeds my imagination.

I can't watch the news without becoming irate. Between the government, the rapists, the looters, the prejudice, and the racism, I find myself ranting and raving at the television. I also find myself questioning the nature of our civilization. The answers I'm coming up with are ugly.

Yet, despite the depravity and incompetence, there are also stories of hope and happy endings. I try to weigh the good against the bad, to think of the people who have given money or supplies to help those in need.

Writing Update


Updated enough?

The Job Hunt Ends

I gave my bos my two week notice this afternoon. I accepted a position in another office on campus today. The pay is slighty more than that of my current position but the best thing is going to be the change in job duties. I'm so relieved that I won't be dealing with the things I've been dealing with for the last four and half years (November would be my 5 year anniversay if I stayed).

In my new position as an Administrative Assistant Senior I will be responsible for a variety things. Budget, project management, back-up to the help-desk employees, web pages, reconciling credit card expenditures, and much more will fall under my purview. I expect to be busy but I can't imagine the level of stress will be anywhere near what it has been over the last few years.

My last day in my current office is September 23. I'll begin the new job the following Monday.

Yay, me!

I think it's Monday.

I know it's Tuesday but it sure doesn't feel like it! My oldest son had a headache on and off all weekend. Although I'm not sure I believe him (he's acting fine at the moment), he didn't think he could handle going to school. Now, if he were the type to pull this stunt all the time, his little butt would be at school instead of upstairs in his bedroom.

I did take him to the doctor, though, and I set up an appointment with the eye doctor.

Now I'm waiting on the hubby to show up so I can go to work. I told my boss I would be there by 1:00-1:30. Oh, joy.

Blogroll down?

I'm assuming none of my links are appearing because of a glitch on their end and not mine. Hopefully the problem will be fixed soon.

Katrina - Another way to Help

While I'd rather give money to help the relief effort, there are other ways people can make a difference. As anyone who owns a television, radio, or computer knows there are thousands who have been left homeless due to Katrina's merciless fury. Organizations are attempting to offer assistance in any way possible.

This website provides a means for communicating a willingness to house individuals or families who have lost everything: I realize this isn't something most people would be comfortable doing but if you can find it in your heart or means to help, please do.

They're Going Home

My sister and her three children are moving back to North Carolina. They've been living with my dad for the last 11 months and we've enjoyed having them so close. Of course, it's been difficult living with dad the clean-freak, putting up with Nutty, and not having their own space. Many nights my sister had to sleep in a bed with one or more of her kids.

More difficult was the actual separation of their family. My sister had left her husband in North Carolina. Thousands of miles separated husband and wife, father and children. The problems they face as a couple and as a family cannot be fixed over thousands of miles. It's just not possible. So, after much deliberation and no small amount of emotional energy, my sister and her husband have agreed its time to work on their issues and give their family a chance. Thus, the move home.

After work tonight I took my boys over to my dad's house so we could say goodbye to my niece and nephew. Over the holiday weekend my dad will be driving my sister and her kids down to North Carolina. The two oldest children are going to stay there with their dad but my sister and the baby will be coming back up here--my sister has agreed to finish out her two weeks at work and needs to finish packing up their belongings for the final trip home.

How sad to say goodbye. I am going to miss them and I think they'll miss us just as much.

While I'm saddened by the trouble in my sister's marriage, I have to say the one good thing that came out of all this is that her children finally know our family. We're not just people in pictures anymore. We're aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins.

I imagine the phone bills will be tripled after they move. It won't just be me talking to my sister any more. Each of the kids will no doubt want their turn to reconnect.