I’m not sure if it was a dead animal or just cheese grits.
tweet thisFiled under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, family, life, writing
They’ve got something with doors, around here. It’s the oddest thing: no double doors are both unlocked, at the same time. Only one side is. Ever. And you never know which side because it’s never the same side. This causes no end of embarrassment, as you can imagine. Especially for me, a new faculty member. Call me crazy but it really is a blow to your credibility when you can’t even open a door properly. It’s happened to me twice already today. This morning as I went to deliver the receipts from my conference trip, I turned back to tell the secretary, “Have a good...
I died a little, right then, when he said that.
Someone, a long time ago like before I was born probably, once said, "Times, they are a-changin'." This person was either buying a new watch, replacing the battery in an old watch, or just given to random outbursts of speaking the painfully obvious. Also, they might have been Bob Dylan. Whoever it was, I tip my hat to them, and secretly, I call them a Philosopher. (Unless that person is Bob Dylan; I don't call him a Philosopher since his Oscar win). My deepest wish is that Time had a NASDAQ code. Because it is, I believe, the only thing on this earth that...
And, for the record, I really like my shower curtain.
Last night. Oh, my, last night... Full house. Standing ovation. Sheer exhaustion. After party. Kudos. The usuals. Totally worth it...all the rehearsals, which in this case were rather tightly thrown together and quickly so, and the lines...oh god, the lines...I've never been that close to Shakespeare (he seems standoffish like my cousin Jonathan - sure, sure, he'll speak, he'll pass you the potato salad if you ask him, but he won't really like doing it, and you'll be able to tell from the look on his face, but it'll be a private thing, not broadcast to the whole dinner table). But, last night, Shakespeare...
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