It's been forever, I know. And I've got the post-vacation blues to boot. I always feel so lost when I return from far away.

Where to start....oh, here:


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it will never, ever cease to make me laugh until i cry.

I taught Borges (The Library of Babel) to a fourteen year old today, then Stephen Millhauser's new story from Harper's. It turned into an impromptu lesson about black holes, event horizons, and space-time continuums. I love my job.

Goodbye, 26. You were an infinitely trying year, saved only by Will Oldham and The People of Paper, really. Phil Collins announced his retirement from the music industry yesterday, and I can't help but consider the coincidental timing and believe we are perhaps both turning over new leafs (leaves?) in regards to a 20 year trend of heartbreak. 2008 ( Read more... )

of poems, short stories, essays and novels for the English curriculum I am writing:

Jorge Luis Borges:: Tlon, Ugbar, Orbis Tertius and Funes, His Memory
Ray Bradbury:: The Fog Horn (thx Davi!)*
Harold Brodkey:: First Love and Other Sorrows
Ian Buruma:: The Freedom to Offend
Albert Camus:: Selections from The Myth of Sisyphus
Raymond Carver:: Cathedral ( ( Read more... )

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last night i drank sherry and ate butterscotches in a victorian parlor, followed by german food. wearing the same marigold sundress with brown boots and cranberry cardigan two days in row because i want to, because no one wears enough yellow, really. trying to eke out these last bits of san francisco that i haven't tired of yet. it is a gray spring ( Read more... )

i. I miss waking up to ancient redwoods right outside my window. I've been so lucky, in some ways. Two summers spent swimming in rivers, building fires, kissing boys, watching the sun come up. J and I glowed with health, tanned and well-fed, happy. Pulling each other down drunkenly into the midnight ocean because we couldn't stand up, we were ( Read more... )

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