Month: September, 2012

home state

It is 5:30 AM, the sky a dark blanket tossed upon the city, and I am hurtling via the regional rail towards the airport. Towards home.

I was awake by three, seized by the fear of waking up at nine, blissfully rested but with my flight above Texas and without me. I flitted about packing and passed the remaining time making breakfast.


Sunny side up eggs flecked with Parmesan slivers and drizzled with white truffle oil; warmed pancetta and sun dried tomato toast on the side. I’ve never bought a wedge of Parmesan before but this one is robust, almost meaty in its flavor. ‘Twas delicious. As for pancetta, I deem it glorified ham. It is good..but nothing more.

Can I say how excited I am to enter the welcoming arms of my home state? It sounds sacrilegious to call Texas home after being born and bred in Louisiana. (Yes, they are neighboring states but decidedly different.) Louisiana gave me excellent grammar and a propensity to use Tabasco like people use salt but Texas raised me. It harbored me through teen angst, watched over my college years, accepted me in my fumbling post-grad years. Its men open doors, its food comforts. And, of course, my family, friends and darling other half is there.

See you in a few hours, y’all.

the beginning


For the past few days I’ve been wanting to write here but my mind has been challenged daily with new things that it has been wrangled into a silent stupor. Long dreamy posts are a thing of the past, friends, but with some luck posts will still be had.

See, my class of one hundred and twenty eight has been scooped up and tossed into an ocean of material and I, dear readers, am treading furiously to keep afloat. What has flustered me the most has been the overwhelming assumption that we should just know. Complaints are useless, rebutted with stories of someone who had it worse and how first year is the easiest. They are wearing us down with three hour lectures and constant testing so that we crumble and can be remolded into their liking; professional schools must be the geniuses behind hazing.

While the complaints are there, the excitement is as well. Perhaps not in the sixth hour of back-to-back lectures but, when I hunch over a nub of a plastic tooth, spending hours building it up, tearing it down, tweaking and fixing, taking two days to complete it and wait, petrified, for a particularly difficult professor to grade it.. When he signs off and praises me, I am electrified.

*The picture above is of my glass terrarium atop a latticework furnace hugging my small bay window; it holds two things: a marimo and a tiny boxwood tree.



Earlier today I was scolded for bringing Chibi into a high rise UPS store and, as I was apologizing profusely, my beloved pet began to feverishly bark at the reprimander. [sigh] Since moving, I thought it ingenious to combine running errands with dog walking. To the convenience store. The hardware store. Gap. I have become that lady who totes her dog with her everywhere, which wouldn’t be so terrible if she was more accommodating. Her dislikes thus far:

dogs larger than her,
subway grates,
postal service workers,
people with canes,
people in wheelchairs,
sudden movement,
loud noises,
and lettuce

I do believe my dog is crotchety.



This was before. Here was a time of thrice daily strolls and leisurely meals, unfettered.

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