Day 1, 2025

A quiet and cozy start to the year... 

Nu's guests are still camped out in the rumpus room, their ukuleles and guitars around them.

Back to work for real--but I hang on to emails so as to not be the weirdo who sends out emails when others are still on break. 

I take walks with Max and later with Big A. Everything is grey and leaden. Unrealistically, as soon as Christmas and the NYE have been celebrated, I expect the world to switch into Spring. This despite having lived in the midwest for close to two decades now. Climate change is making this happen sometimes, but that is a different kind of panic. 

I catch up with people on text and WhatsApp and calls. When the kids were younger, it was important to me that we were all in a family group hug at midnight. These days, it's important that I get some quality conversation in with everyone.... Yoga with Julie/Adrienne, some reading, some Arabic practice, some soaking in the tub, some putting Christmas away... I took care of seven (out of my million plants) and experimented with a couple of new thrift-shop projects...

I make lentil soup for dinner; the bakery croissants that people have been ignoring all week went on the dinner table nicely toasted... and thankfully vanished. The round shapes of the lentils are supposed to represent prosperity, and Nu decided to pretend that each circle is a million dollars coming their way. Everyone should start sending their wishlists to Nu. 

Pic: Early in the morning, out with Max.

"Bitch, don't kill my vibe"

I was there for my family, friends, and community over the holidays...

but...

Gaza was never far from my thoughts. This is the second winter many families are spending in emergency tents that are falling apart. Many GoFundMes started for escape have now been reduced to appeals for tent repair or food. Israel bombed Kamal Adwan, the last functioning hospital, and arrested its medical director, Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya, when he wouldn't desert his critically ill patients. More World Central Kitchen workers have died, and more U.N. workers have died. Amnesty International, the U.N., the International Criminal Court (ICC), and the International Court of Justice (ICJ) have all concluded that this is against international law, but people continue to be killed every day, and infants are freezing or starving to death. It all feels too much. They say Reagan was able to end the bombing in Beirut with a single phone call, where is the political will to end the bombing in Gaza? Incidentally, President Carter, who died today, was a real one for correctly calling the situation in Palestine apartheid. (I am grateful for all his anti-racist work, especially post-presidency, and at dinner today, we were saying how he embodied the best aspects of Christianity--service and love.)

I kept muttering Kendrick's song title to myself so I wouldn't say anything inadvertently because I knew people were just trying to get through a difficult year for themselves. For many of my friends, the US elections have left a pall, my MIL broke her foot on Christmas day, and Big A's cousin's wife died on Christmas Day after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just three months ago. Big A hasn't seen his cousin in decades, but they used to spend summers together. Reading the eulogies about MS, I wish I had known her--she seems to have been a wonderful person who was a master gardener and friend to the unhoused. 

Anyway, I'll save my disquiet so I can fight another day. 

Pic: Today's rainy weather didn't help my mood or anything; but here's a memory of yesterday's blue sky. 

from the other side of Christmas

I'm not sure how it happened, but when Nu came down for Christmas--and while I was still listening to carols and checking on the Christmas breakfast pudding--Big A decided to tell them how much baking soda you'd need to mix with cocaine to make crack. 

But the rest of Christmas was more traditional (for us, anyway). Big A was off Thanksgiving this year, so he's working over Christmas--this is the standard E.R. scheduling tradeoff. But the kids have learned to accommodate celebrations around his schedule over the years. I started to wake the kids up when A was on his way home from work after his night shift so when he got home and decompressed for a bit, we could go to cider, stockings, presents, and then Christmas pudding brunch, lazing around, snuggles, napping, movies, biriyani, and so on.

It kind of felt like the nicest Christmas in a few years. The kids have had a couple of rocky years recently, but we're on the other side of that now one way or the other. It's also our second year of Christmas without Scout--no one approaches his level of enthusiasm for Christmas, which will always be bittersweet. 

I put LifeStraws in everyone's stockings including my own (during an anxiety-prone week is my guess). I'd wrapped everyone's presents long before I left for Greece. That was a while ago and I lowkey forgot some of the details, so I was nicely surprised as people opened their presents too. Ha. As for myself, my massage budget has been replenished, and I've been promised a trip to the Grand Canyon in October! I'd mentioned to Big A that I had poetry accepted to three anthologies this year and that I'd like to maybe get a book of poetry out into the world in the coming year--and I got a stack of autographed books of poetry including Mosab Abu Toha's for inspiration. That was the sweetest present.

Pic: Nu being a silly Christmas elf, and all of their siblings--Max, Huck, At--looking at them adoringly. There's a sliver of Big A still in scrubs in the corner and the clutter of opened and unopened presents all around them. 

P.S. In the comments to yesterday's post, Nance used the term "sanitation worker." I'm not sure if it was intended as a gentle correction, but it worked as one. It immediately sounded like a more courteous term, and when I looked up how the relevant union refered to themselves, it seemed the term of choice. So it will be what I will use going forward. As the better Maya said, "Now that I know better, I [can] do better."

2/3 I am meandering; 2/3 a.m. meandering

I've heard that depression is worrying about the past, anxiety is worrying about the future, and happiness is living in the moment. 2/3 isn't so bad, right? 

I think I have anxiety and moments of happiness/joy. I feel fairly done with the past. And also really lucky to have escaped without major trauma given how naive and gullible I used to be. Big A and my sister, who know all the stuff I used to get up to, marvel at this all the time.

I think I get by because I am blessed in my family and friends--I couldn't wait till Friday's book club meeting to see L so I swung by for a chat and hugs (and also got roses because she'd been at the supermarket and they were on sale). Later, LV was in town to run errands and stayed for dinner and we dug out the tiny bottle of prosecco chilling in the fridge to celebrate his tenure. (It was perfect because Big A was working that night and couldn't drink, so LV and I could polish it off ourselves.)

Now it's 2:25 a.m.: Big A is at work; I'm wide awake. It could be worse, it could be 4:00 a.m., he could be home and we could be goofing off. Big A can sleep during the day to even things out, but I won't because my work happens during the day. 

At told me the other day that I'm going to get dementia if I don't get enough sleep. 

I worry about that. 

But then sometimes I think I'm channeling the spirit of my great-grandfather who, according to my mother, would wake in the middle of the night to light an oil lamp and write poems about Hanuman, the god he was passionately devoted to. 

I'm not as religious, but I write? Right?

Pic: Our Christmas tree in the light. Oof, we really are running out of space.  

Surprise Pizza!

We headed to Ohio this morning for Thanksgiving #2 with my lovely MIL. When we got there, we were a bit confused that all was calm and really relaxed with no signs or smells of cooking. Indeed, there were no signs of Thanksgiving at all. 

So we hung out and chatted and ordered pizza when it was time for dinner and all was well. I'm kind of glad my MIL didn't have to go to all the trouble of starting a big meal all by herself.

Pic: Max and Huck have always been suspicious of the robot vacuum, and it didn't help matters that it seems to be making off with Nu's ukulele here.

Some Thanksgiving Ubuntu

At the end of Thanksgiving dinner when everyone was saying what we were thankful for, I said I was so thankful for all the people we had around the table. This was true. We had a very full table. 

But the table was also full of a staggering amount of leftovers. I made 12 dishes not counting the pies (which I did not make) or the appetizers (which I did assemble/make)... and people loved the appetizers and the soup and then seemed to run out of steam for the meal itself. Even after people rallied and took leftovers home, there was still A LOT on the table. 

I'd really worked my butt off all day and I wanted people to enjoy it today instead of stockpiling leftovers forever, so I offered it on a local Facebook group. Then there were like 200 people blessing me (just for donating extras!?!) and quite a few takers. I had to take food to my grandbaby's family and drop At off anyway, so I loaded up the car and set off. And then At said they'd like to go with me to drop off food, so I got so much extra chatting time with my older lovey. (Jenny--see what I mean about my older one being a bit like yours?)  

At the end of the evening, as I dropped At off and headed home, I felt so satisfied: as though I was flying home, as though every traffic light in my way was green... I realized later that it could have just been because this was a day when the roads were empty... but it still felt pretty awesome.

It reminded me of my Ubuntu Canteen days.

Pic: A reasonably vague shot of the table when Big A and I got up to set up the dessert station.

flowers, food, and "face-wrestling"

I decided to do the flowers for the Thanksgiving table myself and that reminded me of Mrs. Dalloway saying she'd get the flowers herself. Then I briefly wondered if I was like her in surrounding myself with events as a way of avoiding the void.

Anyway, the day before an event is always suspenseful for me. I tend to make a lot of food, but we have just the one fridge and freezer, so I can't overshop or cook in advance, and it's a gamble if I'll find everything on my list. I didn't find parsnips today. But I suspect no one cares about the parsnips but me.

Pic: Max and Huck in a post-dinner "face-wrestle." There's a lot of groaning-growling-baring of teeth and positioning of jaws in scary ways... and they seem to be having so much fun. It reminds me of my two boy cousins--whoever arrived first at my grandmother's place for the weekend would wait anxiously for the other one, and the minute he arrived, he'd be greeted with the affectionate invitation, "Let's go fight, da!" And then my baby cousins would kinda fight like Max and Huck do now.

last day feels

We had our last class today. We're on Thanksgiving break now, and when we come back, it'll be Finals Week. There's no way I can be missing my students already... But I kind of do. And for the second semester in a row, I forgot to take the customary end-of-semester group pics. So I really do want to get them back together again one last time to take that photo.

In my first class this morning, one kind student began to thank me for a "great" class... and before I could say thank you, everyone in the class was thanking me and then they clapped for me! That has NEVER happened to me in a classroom before! It felt so sweet and supportive in the moment, I wasn't even thinking about what actual evaluations or the stability of the work environment might look like.

Speaking of which, I'm reading Unsheltered--an older Barbara Kingsolver I found on my shelves--perhaps it's not the best time to read about someone who lost their tenured job and is anticipating living in an age of President Orange (the first time around), but that's where I am anyway. 

Now on to big decisions... Should I squeeze all our Thanksgiving guests around our existing table by adding an extra chair on each side, or should I use a card table to rig an extension? Does apple cider go well in a hot toddy? Do I have enough rosemary in my herb garden or do I need to buy some?

Pic: I think I got a picture of an Eastern Bluebird in the tree. In any case, there's a bird in a tree and it's decidedly blue. LB was so indulgent and patient waiting for me while I waited for the bird to settle.

other things I was told this week

You told me I had two very different reactions to the separations of two people I was close to. That's so true! I guess I was basing my own response on how the person I was close to was responding to the event. 

The produce person told me by the banana stand that I should "mix and match" bananas from different bunches--some for now, and some for later. I don't know why I've never thought to do that before. I always thought of the bunches as an inviolate collective entity. 

Big A and my massage therapist told me I've been losing weight. I feel like I look the same, but my appetite has been off. Whether it's because of new anti-anxiety meds or because I'm listening to the news, I don't know. 

Pic: Hartrick Trail Wetlands. New to me. Nu's driving instructor told me to check it out when I said I was going to walk in the school parking lot to kill time. It's adjacent to the school grounds and I can kind of see the school buildings in the distance. The high school in 10 Things I Hate About You still rates as the best school building with the best view of all time (Stadium High School, Tacoma, WA; it looks out over the waters of the bay--swoon.).

everything (three things) everywhere (in three places) all at once (and all tomorrow)

It's not quite at the same volume as the movie, but it does feel like I have to be in three places tomorrow: Nu is sick and has to stay home, it's my big NWSA day in Detroit, and BL is in labor in a Lansing hospital.

Today a coach at Nu's school died in a car accident. Apparently, he had been saddened by the student's suicide last week, so the community is wondering if he'd been distracted by that when the accident happened. He was a basketball coach and Nu is... decidedly not on the basketball team. So when I first got the email from the school informing me, I didn't even know if Nu knew him. But when I got home, Nu was full-on crying, their face swollen and snotty, and they were really quite inconsolable. And they felt warm to the touch, and sure enough they were running a temperature. Aaron will be home from work around the time I have to leave for Detroit tomorrow, so I think I'll be able to leave as planned...

... for NWSA! As it is, I'm not going for the whole four-day affair. And as it is, I've already gotten texts from friends I see only at conferences asking if I want to have dinner with them, etc. Alas. But both my panels and my caucus meetings are tomorrow, so my day trip tomorrow will have to do. Perhaps I could go in on Saturday too, if Nu is better and I have the energy and I'm not needed...

...At the hospital where BL is laboring to give birth to my honorary grandchild! I won't be in the delivery room, but I can at least be in town, right? I'm SO EXCITED!!

Pic: I was full of nervous energy + Nu felt like cake, so I baked some banana-pumpkin muffins. It turns out this was the project I'd been holding on to the hibiscus-sugar (that SD brought me when she visited in 2022) for.

gifts

JV and I were having the nerdiest discussion over breakfast about our favorite fonts under the amused and indulgent gaze of the people who love us anyway. Then she showed me an amazing tik-tok from this guy called Wisdom Kaye who dresses like various fonts. All the outfits are designer-sourced, and they are exactly as though those fonts--Times New Roman, Impact, Papyrus--came to life. It's incredible. This is why they say you should have a mentor who is in the under-thirty age range. This is something I would never have chanced upon by myself.

So many of yesterday's guests were incredibly generous. When people asked what they could bring, I said perhaps fireworks, because I don't know anything beyond sparklers. But people also came bearing gifts because Google told them gifts were appropriate for Diwali? My friend SD who wore a headlamp to last year's party (because Diwali is a festival of light, get it?) gift-wrapped a box of LED lightbulbs this time 😂. And there were so many fragrant candles, and candies, and a salt lamp--so, so perfect because those are not things I would buy for myself.

Then there are the gifts that were completely unexpected and packed an emotional punch: Like the bunch of chrysanthemums from someone who was in youth group with Nu and is now at MSU for college. I know they don't drive, so the flowers were probably an extra stop somewhere in their busy college-student day... Like the carefully gift-wrapped set of glasses from an international student, which reminded me of my own international student days and how I would translate everything via currency exchange rates into what it would cost back home... Like the canisters of tea two lovely young people handed me, which I was already looking forward to enjoying, but totally saved me this morning when I realized I was all out of Earl Grey and my in-laws asked if I had something with caffeine in it... Like the paintings my baby cousin made for me... like the mini-poster of Jennifer Bloomer's motto, which I take quite literally apparently and now lives on our fridge...

Yesterday, the henna artist told me at the end of the evening that she'd been eavesdropping on people's conversations as she worked and that I was lucky that I know so many nice people who love me. (I hope that's true and I wish I'd heard these conversations!) But I do know lovely people and I feel absolutely lucky to be in the world with them. If the whole world was filled with the people who filled my home yesterday, I would not be worried about the elections like at all.

Pic: The world is so beautiful. (And I prefer this sunset to yesterday's smoky fireworks.)

right to party

I spent weeks prepping, and everything went really well (I think!)!!  There was a photo booth, a henna artist, a craft table, a cards table (it's traditional to gamble, I set out dominoes for people to stake), some dupattas for those who wanted to add some desi flair, and a banging playlist. I wish there had been more dancing. 

I'm not sure we'll be in a house this big next year, so might as well use it, right? And our house was FULL. Still is in a way--all the bedrooms are occupied, and poor Nu is sleeping in the rumpus room. (It's an Indian kid rite of passage-- giving up your room to assorted "cousins.") 

The afterparty was curling up with Big A on the sofa and finally eating some food and getting waited on by the fam; having Nu request that I share the playlist with them (WIN); and seeing At's text saying it was an "incredible party." (We stayed on text to talk about Sally Rooney. Do they have stellar politics? Absolutely. Are they a good writer? Maybe? At: "sometimes I feel like they really are capturing something though" "there's this beautifully understatedly marxist scene in a church later in the book that has stayed in my mind forever." I'm not at that part yet... Ok then. )

Anyway, the party is over. I spent weeks prepping, and it was such a nice distraction when I found myself slipping into a funk. Now I have nothing to distract myself with, and have only serious, scary, and sad things to think about...  c'est la vie.)

Pic: Fireworks. I'm happy to see all my people having a good time. (Can we pretend that the smoke is an aurora borealis or something?)

try me twice

Not Trying: 

The 15-year-old radio/CD/I-Pod (I know!) dock that lived in the kitchen and provided the soundtrack to our lives, especially to the puppy kids while we were at school/work.

The online work-related interface, which kept locking me out claiming the confirmation email I provided did not match although I was copy-pasting!

Trying Hard: 

My 17-year-old who has finally decided to take driver education classes and finds themselves in a class full of freshmen and sophomores.

The three green tomatoes I found in the veggie plot who seem to have decided, despite the lateness of the year, that they'd give it a shot.

To Try: 

Plant lasagna. or how to layer bulbs in planters for year-round blooms. I mean, I already do something like this when I press hyacinth bulbs into planters and forget until they begin to bloom and scent the whole room (and then it's such a delightful surprise) but this is for the outside.

Honey-Harissa Chickpeas and then if it didn't already sound awesome, the rec is that you top it with Greek yogurt and mint.

Pic: Three green tomatoes at the end of October.

Athithi Deivo Bhava

I looked up from gathering my things to see the host's father talking to his daughter, pointing at me from across the room accusingly, and saying something about "that girl..." My crime? I was trying to leave without taking food home with me. So I was properly chastised and packed up with leftovers.

It was lovely to take a break and celebrate an early Diwali with the girlfriends, play with some delicious babies, eat some delicious food, and celebrate life and light today.

The thing with the food reminds me that according to legend, Alexander the Great is supposed to have said that in all his conquests, he'd never encountered hospitality as pronounced as that in India. And that always made me wonder (1) how can you tell if the people you conquered are acting hospitable or servile (2) the Greeks and Persians whom Alexander conquered before he got to the Indians also make a big deal of hospitality in my experience (to this day), so I'm not sure what he was talking about. 

The title of this post is from the Sanskrit saying "the guest is (like a) God," which people like to drop into conversation. 

Pic: A crop of me from a group photo today--I tried a thing with bangs, my first time since giving myself pandemic bangs early in 2020.

going on 17

Nu turns 17 tomorrow and they have plans with friends, so we had our family celebration today with pizza, cake, and presents. Nu rarely wants things, so we collaborated on a list of 70 songs about 17-year-olds that they loved. Steph, did something like this for North, I think? We weeded out the more letchy ones (there are so many songs about adult men checking out 17-year-old girls!) and tried to find songs that described being 17. The top ones: "Seventeen without a purpose or direction, we don't owe anyone a fucking explanation" (The Rock Show, Blink-182); "You won't be seventeen forever and we can get away with this tonight" (Seventeen Forever, Metro Station); "Pack me up and put me in a time machine, so I can remember when we were seventeen" (Seventeen, Four Year Strong). There are so many songs about being 17, and Nu thinks it has something to do with the number of syllables in "seventeen," rather than the age itself. Also: The grandparents sent gift cards and cash, this Pack Rat puppet who carries a knapsack might be their new purse, they have a new speaker for their room, and a snack box from Japan. 

Big A is working tonight, so he headed to bed after dinner while the kids and I headed out to see The Substance. It was a bit heavy-handed and the body horror was extreme enough to make me want to retch--but the kids thought it was all hilarious. What on earth have I wrought?! 

After we dropped At off, Nu started to play Imogen Heap on the car stereo. I don't even know how Nu found this music that's now nearly 20 years old... I internally debated whether I should tell them that I had always thought of "Goodnight and Go" as my song for A (not the stalker-y bits, but the "must you make me laugh so much" section and also the oops missed the train home part). I ended up telling them, and then they earnestly asked me if I would be okay "sharing" the song with them. I guess the kids are alright after all. 

(Whom am I kidding? I love my little humans to bits... I can't believe this may be Nu's last birthday at home.)

Pic: Nu's delicious (pumpkin cheese)cake looks like it has a hundred candles because there are candles spelling out "Happy Birthday" in addition to their 17 candles.

comments and connections

Because of Nance's exhortation to vote hard for Langston Hughes, I found the work of Bruce Weigl through her comments. Here's his amazing and timely poem Autumn Leaves.

In other news, the Gaza course, which was supposed to start yesterday has been postponed to next week. StephLove had voiced concerns about internet connectivity in Gaza when I first mentioned it--and that's one of the reasons.  I hope they are able to resolve that issue. I also hope they're able to give me a little bit of a heads-up about which course I'll be teaching, so I can prep classes ahead of time.

I was so amused that Baby Engie's go-to fib for her hand injury in high school was apparently to claim it happened in a bar fight, according to a comment yesterday. While I didn't get into a fight, our team (Big A, me, + our friends SD and AH) handily (heh) won first prize at our local bar trivia (25$$$$$$), which we promptly used for our pizza and drinks.

Pic: We are the champions! Pictured here with our prize gift card before we spent it.

And on we go...

As Alice Walker says: "The way forward is with a broken heart..."

I woke up early to spend some quality time walking with Max and Huckie and being silly with Big A, and went in to work a little later (it's not a teaching day). I also prepped dinner as I'd be home at 6 and that's too late to start prepping. That extra time I took for myself in the morning was so good for me. I saw a little red Corvette on the way to work and got there on a song. 

(Not to jinx it, but) My class prep is always meticulous, so yesterday's teaching went fine, but there were other things I had been too distracted to do in the last couple of days (make arrangements to observe a colleague's class for their portfolio, finalize calendar invites for a couple of work meetings, materials for the prison class, materials for the Gaza University folks, progress surveys for all my classes, etc.). I did all of that today. And I wrote the Dems about the death penalty.

And I focused on some life-affirming stuff: Wished my cousin T for their birthday, designed the invite for our Diwali gathering (Nov 2), and ordered the cupcakes for the baby shower (this Saturday!). 

Pic: While at the bakery for the baby shower cupcakes, I picked up these adorable cutout cookies for Nu. I could hear my mom's voice in my head--"First take care of the ones at home."

flickers from other places...

Max is a goofball whereas Scout was a sentimental intellectual-savant, but they do look a lot alike and have some very similar habits. Like Scout, Max loves to be with me when I light the oil lamps in the evening, and sighs the same way Scout did when he settles himself for a nap across my legs, he even plays catch in the same silly way. 

Every morning when we wake up, the first thing Max and I do is go out to the corner where we made a Scout memorial. I ring the wind chimes, while Max (less sentimentally) pees. The other day I was playing catch with Max and he came around the corner just as Scout used to and as I mussed his ears and face, the solar lantern flickered awake although it was not at all close to darkness. It truly felt like Scout was laughing in the moment alongside us. 

*

I woke up from an intense dream last night in which my dad was asking why I hadn't placed a "pottu" on him. For the most part, this is a benign request--you'd place a pottu (the vermillion mark) as a blessing; I put one on myself every time I leave the house, or on the kids when they join me in meditation. But in Tamil slang, "putting a pottu on someone" can signify they have passed away and you're paying your respects to their portrait by putting a pottu on it. So obviously, I woke up dreading the day. Thankfully, it turns out I have no prophetic qualities, and the day passed uneventfully.

*

We had our annual Ganesha seek-and-find today (postponed from Friday). The kids found all 32 Ganeshas, showered them with rosewater, anointed them with turmeric and vermillion, and decorated them with flowers. I translated some Sanskrit slokas for them to enjoy, and they insisted on singing "Happy Birthday" in English as well. They heard about our adventure from yesterday, had so many follow-up questions, and were suitably celebratory not to wake up as orphans today.

Pic: The fam at brunch... Big A, Max, At, and Nu with Huckie underfoot. (I'm trying so hard to ignore the giant pile of napkins waiting to be folded behind A.)

Friday vibe

This week seems to have gone by in a rush, but today went quietly. Today is Ganesha Chaturthi, but everyone had work/school so we'll celebrate properly on Sunday.

I worked with my serious independent studies students and took meetings and sat on committee meetings... and yet somehow managed to miss the English department meeting (new time)! It was embarrassing, but my colleagues were very kind about it.

At the end of the day, I printed out the flyer for the book from the publisher's website and plugged my forthcoming publication to the marketing team. My voice has been hoarse for a week, and a former student at the event thought it was hilarious and kept pretending it was because I'd been partying too hard. If only.

Back home, Nu was partying hard--they were out to the football game, senior paint party, and dinner with friends, so Big A and I fed Max and Huckie and made ourselves dinner. I made a very pretty matchstick salad of peppers, carrots, cucumbers, basil, and mint as a bed for the dumplings Big A was frying up. We missed Nu, but I guess this is us on the reg from next year. 

One of the girlfriends sent me a picture of the game, and Nu was in it! I shared it on family chat and claimed I had spies everywhere, but Nu was unfazed and rolled their eyes. When Nu got home at midnight, they shared a compliment they'd been hugging to themselves all day. Their English teacher had told them that they saved Nu's work to read last because it always gave them something to think about. Aw!

Pic: I took some new colleagues an "office-warming" gift. The "ribbons" are in our college's signature plaid and are actually shoelaces.

Thursday things

It has been an absolutely brutal day in the news. Between the French spousal rape case, the French soft right-wing appointment/coup, the latest hindu-fundamentalist accidental same-side lynching, the Ugandan Olympian dying after being set on fire by her boyfriend, the Internet Archive losing its case and the constant drip, drip, drip, of the rising Palestinian death toll... Knowing as we rightly denounce the latest U.S. school shooting that U.S. weapons have destroyed every school in Gaza.

The small habits that save my Thursdays are an early morning walk with KPB around campus before classes start, a chat with my mom on my way home from work, and Subway for dinner that Big A picks up after his shift at the clinic. Also, my last class of the week is surprisingly high-energy and just so joyfully silly and good-natured. They're prone to doing things like bringing up Eminem's "The Real Slim Shady" to argue "logos" or spontaneously quizzing each other on where I went to school. I truly feel like I lucked out with this class and hope we keep this energy all semester long.

Pic: When I was 15 I started a poem with, "Every day for breakfast, I had a spoonful of sky..." It remains one of my favorite lines although it was secretly coded to refer to my E.D. This is that sky.  Taken on my walk with KPB this morning.