Currently The Vicious Circle: Mystery and Crime Stories by Members of the Algonquin Round Table (Reprint) see related

I'm Thankful For (A Partial List)

"I am thankful for..." (a partial list)

...music that touches my soul; the ability to hear it, play it, and create it. Musicians like Tracy Chapman, Ryan Adams, Billy Joel, who find words and melodies for those restless feelings trying to hitchhike from my heart to my mouth.

...public libraries, which put a wealth of excellent books and other materials at my fingertips for free.

...a job that pays my bills without having to work 40-50 hours a week (which is huge in itself, right?), so that I also have time and energy for things that are more intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually important to me.

...the way technology can help me keep in touch with family members who live hours away, far better than would have been possible in decades past.

...having people in my life who care about me.

...a nice, comfy bed that makes sleeping a lot more satisfying.

...digital cameras, and how mine's made taking decent photos even more accessible than my ol' 35mm Nikon (which I really enjoyed, by the way).

...TV shows on DVD/Internet and news on the Internet, so I needn't have TV service to watch the shows I like and stay informed.

...people who make a commitment to being socially and environmentally responsible with their businesses (and shame on those who fake it for advertising purposes only!)

...my friend Christine -- we go back to elementary school, and we've been writing letters back and forth since she moved to South Carolina in 1997. Wow, that's 12 years ago.

...books that make me smarter, more compassionate, more understanding, or a better debater on whatever topic.

I'm even thankful for the burden of attempting to be a conscientious consumer -- for knowledge that allows me to protect my body and any potential child it might carry someday (way down the line...), to protect the environment of which I am a part, and of which my neighbors (all of you) are a part.

This is a Featured Grownups entry, my first. As Thanksgiving Day approaches, what are you thankful for?

Magnetic Poetry, Part III

Currently Clouds By Joni Mitchell see related

a mite overwhelmed

Grad school decisions recommendations personal statements transcripts application fees short on time

Automobile decisions repair trade in finances short on time

Working editing making gifts housework slipping slipped social life tenuous trying unbalanced

Residency decisions car taxes permanent address permits and short on time

Bureaucracy frustrations

Missing him away loneliness desires and short on time

Even sentences are too much

Sometimes I just stop

Wanted

Seeking: music and people without sharp edges. Tonight, I am all made of nerve endings.

Currently Roswell: Season 2 By Jason Behr see related

Love-Cracked Nut, Incarnate

These feelings come as the residue of a dream... though I'm now awake, they lie in a part of my consciousness, gazing out at me -- through me -- with their harlequin eyes. Self-examining, other-examining, neither intimate nor remote, they evade entanglements with rational questions and answers. Perhaps they are influenced by the things I have been watching, by a pattern of clarity-confusion that oft repeats when I visit home, by the recent reemergence of people I used to love... but they also contain a seeming consciousness unto themselves, independent of me, my thoughts, or my desires.

Love... the appropriate metaphors are not what come, but rather: love is a nutcracker, and you're a nut to be in it. Like someone tied to the tracks, you've struggled, lost, grieved, and accepted; now, you relax your muscles and watch with disinterest the train as it comes. Was this how it was meant to be? I have lived the analogies multiple times, died on the tracks to wake up in a traincar. Who does it please that it should be so? 

In part, I envy those who have loved once, those who have never died and seen themselves come back just a little different. I don't believe in literal reincarnation, like dying and coming back as a cow, but at times it feels as though I am a reincarnation of my former selves; the eyes looking out on the landscape are not the same as those into which you, or he, looked years ago. And so, I have come to understand, as useless as it is to compare dissimilar objects in this, it's more so for dissimilar people.

But I fell in love again; I broke myself again and lost a few of the pieces; I came a little more awake. I don't know how long or how many times the cycle goes. The train moves on, and though I fear it may derail or crash altogether, crushing me or sending me maimed into the next, I keep riding it. I want to see where it goes. How it all ends.