february

a new semester, first publications, and a nephew--february was a fairly filled month. funny how that works out, what with it having the fewest days of all the months.

ray andrew galatioto, my nephew, was born today. actually, he was born in japan on february 27 (which was feb 26 here), so we kind of get to celebrate his birthday again tomorrow. he's the first of the next generation in my family, the start of another branch on the family tree. i can't wait to begin fulfilling the new role of aunt.

the march issue of grand rapids magazine went out this week, and it was the first issue my work showed up in. i have heard mixed stories about people's "first publishing" experiences. a week ago my supervisor had actually came to my desk and handed me the issue--she could tell I was fairly excited. my first publishing experience was definitely memorable. seeing my name in glossy print (a few times in this issue) made that spot right below my sternum well up with a kind of thrill. at the same time though, i experienced something i've heard in nearly every other "first publishing" story. looking at my articles, all i could think of was, "i want to do it again, and i want to do it better."

i like the periodical publishing industry--a lot. time to step it up.

writer's block

An honest pen is hard to come by. A block often wedges itself between mind and pen. It catches the raw and revealing insight mustered from the core of our being. Until I find a way through it, I am incapable of writing.

No, I am not at a loss for words. Moreover, a million words are wrestling in my conscience at any given moment. I think it’s more a matter of my words being lost—lost, or perhaps cowering in some obscure corner of my thoughts. Clearly, it’s a case of page fright. My reputation—my very identity—is being held up at ballpoint. No words want to be forged under such pressure.

Yet it is a writing exercise like this that reminds me there is no reason to be pun-shy—where there is a quill, there is a way.

Huzzah! I’ve found the gap in the block. It is time to write.

[live] animal sighting

When the coyote trotted up, all I could manage was a wide-eyed stare. It heard her. “Lindsey. Lindsey. Lindsey, look!” My roommate, who had jokingly howled not but ten minutes earlier, was still in the tent while I melted some snow for hot chocolate. I must have startled it as much as it me—he darted back the way he came. Part of me had wanted to lure him over for a game of fetch; another part of me wanted to run screaming into the tent for cover. Though the coyote was gone, I resorted to the latter, but with more a squeal of delight in the wild I just witnessed.

dinner time

After 8 o’clock, dinner options dwindle. The pot roast requires too much time, ratatouille takes too much work, and ordering yet another pizza costs too much money. Peanut butter and jelly is a quick fix; however, why have for dinner what was for breakfast and lunch? Most give up by now. Indecision will undoubtedly lead to starvation. That’s when the desperate raiding of the fridge happens; if it can be microwaved in a minute or less, it’s dinner.