August 13th, 2010


Friday Five

You would think being unemployed would lead to TONS of free time to write inspiring posts.  Well, it has not. My schedule is all kinds of topsy-turvy.  I will try my darndest to write another post on fear as a motivator for antagonists this weekend.  But enough belly aching, let the celebrating begin . . .


I got a teaching gig at the community college in the city.  It started with a request to teach two classes and swelled into three classes. I am a bit nervous about toturing . . . erm I mean, teaching three courses. I’m capable—I taught 120 students in one HUGE lecture hall when I was a pup of a graduate student. My future victims . . . I mean, students will total about 90 over the three courses. My concern rests with: 1) it’s three hours back to back of me saying the SAME thing and 2) learning all the names (I like to know my students in small classes.)  It will all work out. Whooohoo! Bring on the torture whips . . . I mean, the Power Point presentations. J


Numera Una Beta’s birthday is Saturday. I and the Twilight Ladies are going to watch the movie version of Eat Pray Love, which is a FABULOUS book in IMHO.  Happy Birthday Numera Una Beta!


I made my Perfect Oatmeal Cookies this week. No, that is not the fabulous thing . . . well it is, but not the thing I’m celebrating. I’m celebrating the fact that it took me one week to eat them instead of 24 hours.


I’m getting the third season of Dexter in the mail today. I LOVE Dexter. I mean, come on! He’s a serial killer, who kills serial killers. (I’m noticing a theme in this Friday Five.)


I’ve been editing The Collector while my friends bleed on The Diyari Chronicles. I am a smidge over one-third of the way through the hardcopy edits.  Below is the first paragraph of the story. After you read it you should check out yesterday’s discussion on jmeadows  blog regarding the challenges of writing in first person, present.  Olivia Kingsley, the protagonist of The Collector, will not let me write in any other tense. Interestingly, I don’t find it challenging. (Of course, I may be delusional regarding my skill.)


I died on my sixteenth birthday, December 21, 2009.  My parents died the same day.  They died a physical death. I died a spiritual death. I think they got the better deal. I know I’m being morbid and dramatic. Or at least, that’s what my mom will say. I mean, what she would have said.


Hugs and Encouragement!