The Blog Does Its Phoenix Routine

I completely overhauled the old blog today. Part of that was driven by the fact that I feel terrible today in the wake of last night's migraine, so I'm mostly just lying here on the couch today with the netbook in my lap. In an effort to accomplish something like usefulness today, I decided I would take care of that other blog template.

The other thing that led me to this was the absolute non-functionality of that other template. While I loved the colors and the design at the top, the notebook design itself had always bothered me, as had the little tabs down the side that read "Undefined." Too much of my life is actually undefined without every blog entry being labeled as such. It also made all the photos that I import from various sources MUCH too large. Regular Blogger templates are supposed to help put a size limit on them without the author having to download, resize, upload, etc. Then there was the fact that there was no blogger bar at the top for navigation/ease of creation of new entries. That aspect of the old template drove me crazy from the moment I installed it. I've just been too lazy and/or occupied to try to fix it or replace it until today.

This template is a return to something much simpler, I suppose, but with blogs, simple is better. Most of the templates I looked at were so over-designed that one couldn't even read the posts. I want a little pizazz down the sides, but I still want the words to be clear. I think this one might be a good blend of those two things...at least until I get bored again and redecorate.

Anyway, all the traditional accoutrement of bloggage is back, at least as far as I know, anyway. I added a couple of new widgets for you to toy with if you have the time. The Magic 8 Ball is a perennial favorite of mine in all its many forms, so I hope you'll forgive its presence here. Smile indulgently. You might as well....

Geek Flags Flying

I've been tweeting tonight with some of my twitter friends about the joys of "geekery." The prompt for this was the fact that on a Monday night, I was trying to decide between watching Sci-Fi's Star Trek: TNG marathon or the new box set of vintage Dr. Who I just got from amazon. It struck me as funny that all my viewing choices (or the only ones I was interested in, anyway) were those that would settle that Geek Queen crown more firmly on my head.

You know what? The heck with it. I'm a geek. I claim it. I even have little black stud earrings with the word "geek" on them in tiny green letters. I like computers, Twitter, Star Wars and Dr. Who. I know who Elric, Harry Dresden, and Gandalf are. Somewhere, in the back of my house, are a bag of polyhedron dice, a box holding my painted Warhammer 40K army, and several books related to various and sundry RPGs I played "back in the day." I have electronics named after deities from the Norse and Egyptian pantheon, epithets I gave because the gods and the tools matched up. I use words like "epithet" in blogs. I could go on, but I think this is probably enough evidence to convict in a court of law....

The thing about geekery is that it's a whole lot of fun, but it makes you mostly unmarriable. I love the things I'm interested in, the things I read, the friends I have. I enjoy "flying that geek flag." I just know that being this way has ensured that I'm going to live the rest of my days single. It's a real pain.

I have this fantasy guy in mind. He's intelligent, he's tall, he's funny, and most of all, he's as big a geek as me. We go do geek stuff together. He's even willing to load up and go to things like the Elvis Festival for the sheer geeky goodness that can be had. We go to the movies, enjoy the good ones, and MST3K the bad ones together (he knows what that is because he's a geek like me). He has odd collections, and he doesn't mind the fact that I have PEZ all over the walls of my office. He does, in fact, find this charming and not odd. Above all, he's not threatened by the fact that I'm independent and capable since he is, too. In my most secret fantasies, his computer gear is better than mine, and he's willing to share. Mmm.....

Okay, so I'm hamming it up just a bit. It just seems sometimes that the things I like are so different for some reason than the interests of most of the people I know. Maybe they're all secret geeks, too. Wouldn't that be funny? Of course, I guess they might be something worse.... I'm just going to keep on with what works for me, even if that means it's just me. As my friend C always used to say, "I gotta be me." That's all I know how to do.

Wood Brothers

During those last hectic days of school, one of my students was in my classroom working on something, and he happened to recommend a CD to me, Ways Not to Lose by the Wood Brothers. Those last few days, we were all furiously working away on laptops, he on his, another student on hers, I on one loaned to me by Technology since mine had died an inconvenient death, and he played me a brief sample of their music. I liked what I heard well enough to write down the title on one of my ever-present Post-Its and stick it to the back of my Seagate case.

The other day when I was moving files from my resurrected school laptop to my Seagate, I found the Post-It, and I looked up the album on Grooveshark. It's great. I love the stripped down Southern sound of it, but what I like even more is the craft of the lyrics. If you've ever read any of my other blogs about music, you know I'm a sucker for a good songwriter, and whoever is writing these knows what he's about. The songs are original and intelligent without being pretentious.

I downloaded the mP3 album from amazon last night, and I already have favorites. I love "Luckiest Man" and "Chocolate on My Tongue," and of course any band than can pull off a respectable version of one of my favorite old hymns, "Angel Band," is going to get my respect. Another that I love the lyrics to is "The Truth Is the Light." The words and imagery in that song resonate with me.

I foresee this one going into heavy rotation with me. I'm glad I followed up on that recommendation. I'm going to link four songs here with Grooveshark. If you haven't heard it yet, you might want to check it out for yourself.

The Moon

I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day. ~Vincent Van Gogh

As usual during the nights of the waxing moon, I haven't been able to sleep very much. The last two nights, though, the moon has been amazing in its beauty. Its color and size have made it look like a luscious piece of fruit laid on a bed of blue velvet as it has risen.

Nights like this make me want to go walking in the pasture and in the woods, trailing my fingers through the long grasses and across the leaves. There are deer in the pasture, and on nights silvered like this, the angle of the light makes me feel as though I could run with them, fleet-footed and graceful.

I wish I were at the Red Field, at our shack in the pasture, tonight, so I could see the sky unobstructed. I think there is no better place to observe than the porch there. It's so peaceful and lovely.

No matter how far we come into this technological age, we cannot escape the old magic of the moon. Maybe something in our blood surges in response to it just as the tides are pulled by it. We're fascinated by it. It shows up in our songs, in our poems, even in advertising and decoration.

Maybe it's just the change in perspective it lends to everyday scenery. Even things that are not at their best (and I guess even we ourselves can fall into that category) are somehow made lovely again. What a wonderful gift to receive every month.

Kicking, Just Not Very High

Today was my first active session of PT, and it really kicked my tail. Most of the activities were fairly easy to do, more about stretching and repetitions than about any real weight-bearing or force, but at the end of the session, the therapist, who reminds me a bit of a pixie for some odd reason, peeled the backing off three adhesive electrodes, and hooked them to the long muscle on the top of my thigh leading down to my knee. That's when all the real fun began.

The electrodes were hooked to a battery pack which released a charge every ten seconds. The charge fired for ten seconds and rested for ten seconds. The therapist adjusted the intensity to something just under pain and told me how to perform a set of exercises using the electric shock as an extra stimulant to pull the leg muscle and therefore the knee tight.

Unlike some of my electrical engineering friends, I have never had a deep personal affection for electrocution. I never stuck a fork in a wall socket (D -- you know you did it, if you're reading), I don't work with electronics and come home with arc burns in my hands (Dad), and I've never felt the need to tinker around inside my home computer or electronics to see what "that wire there does" (that one applies to so many of my friends that I will just let it hit whomever is appropriate). The feeling of electricity coursing through that big muscle in my leg was a brand-new thing for me.

The pixie therapist asked me several times if I was in pain, and I wasn't exactly. Pain wasn't the right word. I don't really have a word for what it was. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't like something you'd want to have going on all the time, either. Maybe it was like a million little things dancing a jig with a million little pointed metal feet inside my skin. My main answer when asked how I was feeling was, "Strange. Bizarre." I think this must not have been the standard answer she was used to receiving for this treatment because she looked at me a little oddly. I'm almost immune to that, though. After all, it's not like that's the first time I've gotten an odd look.

When the session was over, she took measurements again for how far the knee can bend and straighten, and I was thrilled to hear her say that it has come remarkably far since even Monday. I reduced the numbers that needed reducing and increased the ones that needed increasing, and although I'm still not able to do simple things like drive or be crutch-free, I have taken some important steps toward getting there. I left feeling buoyant. I may not be kicking very high, but at least I'm kicking.

Baby Steps

I went to PT for the first time Monday. The therapist did an assessment, took basic measurements, and checked to see how much progress I had made since surgery. The news was mostly good. I still have a lot of work to do, but I felt quietly optimistic when I left. She confirmed several things I had thought might be true about pushing myself further with exercises, weight-bearing, and so forth, and at no point did I want to cry or fall down, so I felt like it was another small victory. Any visit to the hospital where I don't want to do one of those two things is a small victory....

Today, I got my hair cut. It needed doing badly. I hate the cowlick in my bangs that starts to curl like horns whenever it gets the slightest bit too long, and I was already way past that point. After the haircut, Mom, my constant chauffeur, and I went to eat at an Italian restaurant for lunch. It was the first sit-down restaurant meal I've had in a very long time, and one of the first non-microwave meals in a while. It was a delightful eggplant florentine calzone, and along with the tiramisu for dessert (I was NOT missing that), it was a feast.

After lunch, I still felt mostly energetic and Mom needed birdseed, so we decided to go to Big Lots. I haven't been to any kind of store in months. The last time I went was just dreadful. I tried to do some Wal-Mart shopping myself, and the pain in my pre-surgery leg was excruciating. Today, I crutched around the store for about 30 minutes before I started hurting and wore myself completely out.

I only bought one or two small things, a laptop riser and some Pirouline, but just being able to get out and be mildly independent was very nice. Granted, I can't drive myself yet, and I had to ask Mom to bring the cart to the things I wanted, but at least I wasn't sitting in my big chair or lying on the couch. Motion felt liberating, even if the feeling was something of a self-deception. Sometimes the lies we tell ourselves are the most important ones....

Well, I still have to do my last set of exercises for today and crank on the knee one good last time tonight. I also want to read some more of this really good biography of the six wives of Henry VIII I'm working on right now, so I'll draw this to a close. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I'm going to trust that it will be more progress, and not a very, very ANGRY knee.

Summer

Today is the second day of my summer vacation. It's just now starting to register that I don't have to go to school tomorrow, and that giddiness of unexpected freedom is just now starting to flow through my veins.

Tomorrow I have to go to physical therapy for the first time, and I know that's not going to be fun. I am, however, looking forward to starting on the serious road to recovery with my knee. I'm already able to walk/hobble for short distances, and although it's a small thing, I'm proud of it.

I wanted to travel this summer here in Mississippi, to go to Clarksdale and to Natchez and do some simple tourism, but I don't know if I'm going to be able to get back on my feet fast enough. What I will be doing is spending time up at our shack in the woods on the porch with my Kindle reading. Just the thought of being able to do that without a pile of papers waiting on me is a luxury like sliding into a hot bubble bath. I can't wait.

Huginn Arrives

"Every morning the two ravens Huginn and Muninn, are loosed and fly over Midgard; I always fear that Thought may not wing his way home, but my fear for Memory is greater."
-- Odin, From Grímnismál

Earlier this year, I was named STAR teacher by one of my wonderful students, and I was surprised to learn that there was a check that came with that. I pondered for quite some time as to what I should use that money for. I wanted it to be something lasting and something that I could use in relation to school as befitted an award given for teaching. Since my school laptop weighs a ton and has started dying at intervals, I decided to explore netbooks. The result currently perches on my lap, sleek, black, light, and lovely.

In keeping with my tendency to name things either literarily or mythologically, I chose to name it Huginn. Paired with my 500 G Seagate Freeagent Muninn, I now have both Thought and Memory working together, and what a pair they are. The netbook is an MSI Wind, and it's wonderfully fast. I am still in the process of updating everything and getting all my programs loaded on, but so far, I love it. I can't believe how nice it is not to have all that weight sitting on my lap! This is what computing should be, light, portable, and simple. If I need a workhorse, I have a desktop in the back for big stuff.

The keyboard is taking a little getting-used-to, but to be honest, it's not all that much smaller than usual. I had a wireless mouse, and I attached it. It's much better than the touchpad for most things. I ordered a skin from skinit, so when it gets here Huginn will look good, too.

I'm looking forward to a pleasant summer of recovery and convenient computing. It will be a nice change.

Seven Days After

It's the one-week anniversary of the day they re-threaded my knee. Is there a Hallmark card for that? No? Slackers. I can't believe they haven't hit that one yet....

The knee itself is UG-LY. Sometimes it swells, but even when it doesn't, it's kind of a science-fiction-ish thing. The sutures are small, so this set of six scars will not be too bad. My knee is mostly still shaped like a knee, also pretty good. Right now, the worst part of any of it is the bruising. It looks like they hit me with a hammer all the way down my shin. Maybe they did. What do I know about it? The very cute anesthesiologist (a Dr. Luke) and/or his nurse anesthetist gave me some Very Good Drugs indeed, and I was gone long before I knew more than that the tile in this operating room, too, was blue. (Is it blue in all of them?)

I tried to go to school yesterday to take care of finalizing senior grades and closing out other things, but that was a mistake of epic proportions. I was okay for about the first hour, and then I started to have pain and disorientation. I made it through until about 1:30, and then I had to leave.

There were a few good moments, though. I got to see several of my seniors. I already miss that class. They were, for the most part, very sweet. Two of our very best brought me an arrangement of yellow roses. The roses are lovely, and once Mom and I found a spot here in the house where the cats won't snack on them, they brighten up my exercises.

I will try to express my gratitude to everyone for all that they've done in some nice thank you cards here soon because I know I haven't been able to express it verbally in my typical fashion. So many people have done so much, been so kind. I am humbled. There are some that I'm simply never going to be able to repay, like my mom and my friends at school who are picking up all the loose ends and keeping them from unraveling. Those debts go too deep.

I will have to sleep again soon. That's mostly what I do now. I am trying very hard not to get frustrated, but as you know if you read much here, I am not a patient person. My Wonder Woman complex tells me that I should be leaping tall buildings, blah, blah, blah, and my poor human body just laughs and laughs, demands a Vicodin and dozes off. I am trying to look at this philosophically as a patience-building exercise, but really, there is only so much sophistry my mind will let me get away with.

This, too, shall pass, I know. In the meantime, I think a nap on a rainy afternoon sounds about the right speed. I think there's a cryocuff full of ice waiting, too. This, right now, is my definition of bliss.

Dead and Gone (Sookie 9)

Here there be spoilers....

Friday, I ordered the ninth book in the Sookie Stackhouse series on my Kindle, and I finished it about midnight that night. I've been turning it over in my mind for the past two days, and I think now I'm ready to write about it a bit.

I have a mixed reaction to this book. The fact that Sookie is back with Eric in any way, form, or fashion makes me happy. I love the big blond vampire. I think he and Sookie fit each other very nicely. There is more tenderness between them in this book than in any of the previous ones, in fact more just simple contact time, and that was very satisfying. I was getting very tired of everything between them always having to be put off until later. I liked that they talked, that they spent time together not fighting, not being jerked around by higher powers, and that they actually shared some things other than blood or sex with each other.

I like that Eric is being more direct with his feelings. He's still sneaky, though. The bit with the bonding knife was classically him. I wish Harris would write a short story sometime from his POV. It would be nice to know what's going on inside that clever and calculating mind.

I did NOT like what happened at the end. It felt like something I've seen other authors do whenever they suddenly realize they have too many characters on their plates, a "housecleaning" of sorts. Claudine, in particular, bothered me. Maybe more than any other character in the whole thing.

I also have to say that I hate the fact that there is any ambiguity about Bill remaining. I don't think I'm going to be able to keep reading this series if Sookie goes back to Bill, even temporarily. I know there are probably die-hard Bill fans out there who swooned and cheered at the end of this one, but to me, Sookie and Bill were never a good match. He doesn't have the fire to keep up with her.

Also, really, really, really, I don't want Sam to declare how much he loves Sookie. I mean, yeah, we all know that he does, but if he makes that declaration, it's going to stink to high heaven. I like Sam, but I don't think he belongs with Sookie, either.

Ultimately, I did like the book. I love the series as a whole, so I was bound to, I suppose. I hope that someday soon we'll see Sookie be able to be happy with one guy. I don't think the series would have to suffer if that were true. Harris has created such a rich world that there are other plot lines to explore other than the perpetual dance of guys around Sookie's front porch. In fact, I think it might be a lot more interesting if that weren't the only thing or the main thing going on.

Scorpions and Starlings

This past week was filled with lots of animal oddness. It started with Roux injuring herself in a bizarre way last Saturday. She was outside to play for awhile during the afternoon, and when she came back to the house, she had two pencil-sized pieces of cedar impaled through her paw crossways. I still don't know how she managed to get the first one in, much less continue on to get the second one sideways.

I called Dad, he came down and picked us up, and we took her to the vet for emergency surgery. I stayed with her while the vet rendered her unconscious and cut the wood from her poor paw. She has stitches between most of her toes, but she, in her typical pit bull manner, doesn't seem to notice it much. She stayed at the vet for the weekend, and now I'm cleaning the sutures each day with peroxide and shoving an antibiotic down her throat twice a day, but other than that, she's doing okay.

The next fun with nature moment came Tuesday. My TA was building boxes to help pack up my classroom for my big move at the end of the year, and she suddenly stepped away and said, "I think I just saw a scorpion." My TA is an extremely level-headed and reliable individual, and if she says she saw a scorpion, I believe her. I got up and limped around to the pile of flat boxes and began to lift them gingerly to see if I could locate the insect. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes, a brown scorpion about two inches long fell out of the flat box as I tilted it.

My TA, the student taking a makeup test, and I just kind of looked at it for a minute. Scorpions just aren't common here. However, I wasn't awed enough not to know what to do with a crawling nasty. My trusty Crocs flops smashed it flat. I do have to say though, that they're not very easy to kill. I had to step on it several times before it crushed. I am also glad it was a small one. Otherwise, I'm not sure a flip-flop would have been sufficient.

Since then, I've been surreptitiously looking around on the floor for "friends" of his/hers and praying that one was both male and alone. The thought of it having laid eggs in those boxes as little "surprises" for me to find when I open all those boxes in August is just shudder-inducing. I think I'll get some Raid before then. Surely Raid works on scorpions, too?

Anyway, Friday afternoon right before the last bell, I started hearing high-pitched shrieking in the stairwell outside my room. I stepped out to see what merriment prompted this, and I saw a poor little starling just crouched in a puddle of sunlight on the landing. The kids were backing away from it like it was rabid Bengal tiger. I knew with the bell about to ring, the next thing to happen would be that someone would harm it, either accidentally or on purpose, so I grabbed the first thing that came to hand, and empty file folder box, and eased my damaged knee down the stairs.

The little bird is one of the many that nests in the nooks and crannies of our old building. Occasionally, they come inside our building when one of the upstairs doors gets left open. They flutter around in a pitiful fashion, and of course, they are terribly distressed every time the classes change because of the noise and motion of several hundred active teenagers moving around.

As I approached it, it didn't move at all. I just placed half of the empty box over it. A student brought me a file folder and I slid it under the box, and then I slid a ring binder under that allowing me to lift the box with the bird safely contained in it. I got it up the stairs and took it out on the upstairs walkway. I opened the box. I was afraid that it was injured or shocked, but when I removed the lid, it flew away straight and true. My heart lifted with it as it soared away. It was a good ending to a bad animal week.

I hope next week will have less of a menagerie in it. I think I have had enough of bird and beast to last me for awhile. If not, well, I guess I will just have to continue to be creative with my solutions....

Moldova

Why aren't more people paying attention to what's going on in Moldova right now? Except for a random drop here and there, I hear nothing about the situation in our media. Perhaps the general public is unaware of what's going on, that people are being put in jail, being threatened, even being killed there. I think everyone needs to know this. I'm posting a link to a blog that is keeping track of news stories related to the ongoing situation in Moldova. I hope you'll check this situation out and spread the information about the shocking conditions there via Twitter and other social feeds since the major media doesn't seem to be noticing. True Moldova

Scars

My knee is going to require surgery; the depth of cutting is the only mystery left. The nurse practitioner, once I finally hacked my way through the Nurse Nazi front-desk personnel to get to her, was sort of astonished that I had not known how bad it was. Apparently I tore out one of the damaged ligaments a long time ago. "Old damage," she called it. "Are you really athletic? 'Cause we usually see this type of damage in people who are..."

It's amazing how much I had hoped that it was all in my head instead of lurking in my knee. Now I'm facing at least six more weeks of crutches, other people doing even the simplest tasks, ever-multiplying medical bills, and another stupid set of scars. It's impossible for me to tell right now which aspect of it is worst.

I can't begin to express how tired I am of people cutting on me. It seems that every epoch of my life has to be marked by a trip to a cold tile room where people made anonymous and sinister by sterile masks and gloves treat me with a certain condescending kindness, render me unconscious, and then hurt me for my own good. How tired I am of waking up with a drip in my arm in rooms with generic art that doesn't quite make "soothing" or "cheerful" despite a lackluster effort. Tired of presurgery paperwork, tired of mean and indifferent nurses, tired of postsurgery checkups, tired of bloodwork, backless gowns, the little barcode I become once I hit the surgery ward the day I check in at whatever ungodly hour I have to report for my "procedure."

Maybe the scars are the worst. Of all of it, the scars don't go away. I've seen the scars that accompany serious knee surgery, too. I just can't wait to add those to my freakshow collection. The set I have on my knee now is not noticeable at all unless you really look hard for them. They're the small old scars of a scope, and they get lost in the freckles that appear on my fair skin with the lightest touch of the sun. Who knows what I'll have to look forward to after this?

I'm trying to put all this in the proper perspective. After all, at least I will get it fixed. I can still walk. I have both limbs. I am alive and can see the tops of the cherry tree outside my classroom glistening in the sun. Life is not ungood. I am just struggling right now with the knowledge that in my future a scalpel is waiting for me like a thin finger of ice tracing its way down my spine.

Missing Yoga

I haven't been able to do yoga in about a month. It's ridiculous how much I miss it. My gear bag is in the back of my car still, and every time I open the back door of the Cruiser to throw my school bags and crutches in, I see the black canvas with its white moon and bamboo design and I yearn. I want to unroll the pretty striped Tappas mat and go into down dog to feel that incredible stretch rolling up the back of my legs. I want to go through the ritual of the sun salutations and raise my hands to the sky. I want to know the stillness of tree pose, find my balance, feel my breath calm and my mind relax.

I can't do any of it right now. I can't even walk for long enough to push a cart through the grocery store without wanting to grit my teeth. It's beyond frustrating. Just when I found something that I really loved and that I felt good doing, my knee came apart on me.

Wednesday's MRI should give me some answers. I only hope that the answers it brings will be ones that will allow me to get back to yoga someday. I have to believe that I will. Anything else is just unacceptable.

Poetry Contest 09

I won! The poem I submitted, "Teaching the Death of Ophelia," won first prize in our local competition. I am so proud. The poem was written about something personal, and I believed in its strength, so I am more gratified than I can say that others thought it was worthy, too. I really want to start trying to see if any of my work is publishable in larger forums, too, but maybe I can start that process this summer. Even though I don't have a lot of time and energy for writing right now, this is an inspiration to try to find the time.

Kindle2

I finally got a Kindle2. I have been looking at the Kindles since they first came out, but I kept putting off getting one for a variety of reasons. The first generation ones were a little bulky and new technology, which is always scary, and I am always broke, which was another powerful inducement to wait. When the K2s came out, though, I had a much harder time waiting. They are sleek and many of the complaints early users had were gone. I went so far as to place one in my amazon cart several times, but I didn't get one until Saturday of last week.

It came Wednesday. It's already one of my favorite pieces of technology. I have read two books on it and am about halfway through a third. I have about 25 books downloaded onto it including some of my very favorite rereads. Almost all of the books I've found so far have been free, too, since they are old enough to be out of copyright protection. It's amazing.

There are so many people and sites out there putting out literature for free. I find that to be a wonderful thing. It's like having a huge free bookstore with thousands of titles for the asking. Granted, the latest best-sellers are not free, but that's not a big deal to me. I pay less to download the ones of those I'm interested in that I would pay to buy them from my local bookstore. Plus, I can get them when I want them, something I can't always say about my local book store.

I've also noticed that with my Kindle I read much faster. I don't know why that should be true, but it is. It may be because of the adjustable print size or the ease of use, but even though I've always been a fast reader, I'm really flying now. The day I got my Kindle, I read the 8th Sookie Stackhouse novel and half of a Lauren Willig book, too. I'm now working on rereading Beloved.

Are there things they could do better? Absolutely. Sure. It's a device in development. I know that future models will just get better and better. I love the one I have now, though, for what it is: the integration of literacy and technology. It's time the two met and were friendly.

Sookie Stackhouse Novels

I have become addicted to the Sookie Stackhouse novels by Charlaine Harris lately. I started reading them last weekend, and so far I'm up to book 7. I am ripping through them with great gusto, and I can't wait until my Kindle gets here so I can download the last two. The series is nothing like I thought it would be.

It's really quite beyond genre classification. There are elements of horror, mystery, "chick lit" (whatever that is), and a healthy dollop of good old fashioned romance novel thrown in for makeweight. The heroine is admirable, strong-willed, and thoroughly Southern. The guys (and I guess I have to use that term rather loosely, all things considered) who pursue and woo her are interesting and exotic. My personal favorite is Eric. Despite his shortcomings, he's just...well...let's say he's the type one wouldn't kick out of bed for eating crackers (not that he would, again, all things considered).

Once I finish with this series, I think I'm going to start her Lily Bard series. I have one of them on the shelf, in fact, and now that I know how much I enjoy her writing, I think I'll explore other avenues to see if they're as pleasurable to stroll. In the meantime, I will go see what else I have on the "to read" shelf now that Spring Break is allowing me to indulge my voracious literary appetites.

Waiting on My Kindle

I have been drooling over the Kindle2 on amazon for a long time now, but I have resisted temptation successfully until yesterday. I finally gave in after several days of having one in my cart and bought it. Now I'm just waiting for my favorite UPS driver to roll up the driveway with it so the real fun can begin.

I love pretty gadgets, to be sure, but that's not the only reason why I wanted to get one. I have thought long and hard about the way I read, and it really made sense to me to get a Kindle. I tend to rip through pulp fiction very, very fast. I can destroy a novel in a day, two if I get really ambitious and nothing else is pressing. It's very tiring to have to try to guess whether or not I'm going to like a new series enough to purchase all the books for it in order to have them on-hand for a big reading spree.

I also ALWAYS have at least one book in my bag. I never go anywhere without a book in case a moment opens up to read. Long trips mean even more books need to be packed, and sometimes I just have the wild urge to read something random. The Kindle weighs less and will be like a portable library in my bag. I'm pretty excited about that. So many of my favorite books are public domain and therefore downloadable as free e-books. The cost of others is less than it would take to get them from our local bookstore, and they'll come instantly.

I made a custom skin for it on this awesome site called skinit.com. I uploaded a pastiche of bookcovers from some of my favorite books to make the skin, so my Kindle will be protected, literary, and colorful. One of my least favorite features of it is the plain whiteness, but that was a fairly easy fix. I always have to customize everything I own, anyway, so I would have skinned it no matter what color it came in. I actually looked at the skins on this site, iStyles, too, but I wanted to make my own, so I did it on the other one.

I got a nifty Janine King carrying case from eBay. The style is really funky in a fabric called Geisha Fans, and I liked it way more than any of the cases on amazon. I decided that it had a lot of personality, and I enjoyed that more than the basic black or leather ones I was seeing elsewhere. I don't know why designers don't understand that people like to tweak things. Is it just me?

I have been surfing for free e-books, and I've been thoroughly astonished by how much good stuff there is. I already have 11 free titles ready to download from the Project Gutenberg offshoot site when I get the Kindle Wednesday including the complete Emily Dickinson Poems, something I often turn to for solace, and a collection of Jeeves and Wooster stories, one of my "feel good" standbys. I haven't even dug around very much yet, either.

Well, I think it's time to start digging for more stuff. My Twitter tweeple have been really awesome pointing out tips. I think this was a good investment in something that I'm going to enjoy for a long time to come.

And Another Thing...

I am in a permanent state of song-stuck-in-the-head, except I have a whole album stuck in mine. Chris Thile's How to Grow a Woman from the Ground won't get out of my head. If I'm concentrating on something else, I always start to hum abstractedly, and lately, it's been tunes off that particular disc that have always been the running soundtrack waiting to pounce. It's not that I don't listen to other things, either. I have tried to drive it out with ZZ Top, the Stones, Howlin Wolf, Ella Fitzgerald, Third Day, TobyMac, good disco, and Bach. That mandolin won't go, though. How does he do that? It's not annoying, just weird, but if it goes on much longer, I think I'm going to start getting worried....

Late Nights

Well, with the time change, I'm back to my late night routines. I love daylight saving time. I like the way the light hovers in the trees and the sky glows that greenish blue for a long time after the sun has dropped. It makes me feel like going outside and dancing in the pastures.

Of course, this also means that once again, I am not getting my work done. Grr... I am now, deluded soul that I am, feeling that it is only 10:00, when in fact it is now 11:00. I am frantically throwing together the last preparations for tomorrow's work day despite the fact that I really want to be bopping around the house cleaning, reading, and well....playing for lack of a more adult term. I feel playful, sort of like a big cat with some string being dangled before it. Maybe I have spring fever?

Oh well. One more week to get through until I can have some legitimate late nights with Spring Break. I can do this. I know I can.