my office chair

I spent 4 hours yesterday working my my office chair of my groovy office. I will post photos someday. My bottom got sore and my legs fell asleep. Maybe I need a proper office chair?

Also, I am still plagued by the idea that blogs need focus, and that mine doesn’t have one. I don’t know what to make the focus. Maybe I will start a new blog, and that will be where I exercise focus, but on what? I change my mind all the time.

Haha. Maybe I’ll make one called Feminist Stories and write a new feminist story every day.

My sister likes my blog. I’m glad. I don’t know if anybody else does.

The last day

This is the last day of my work vacation before the last week of my work for the place at which I work.

I would like little more than to hang out all day and waste my mind on reruns of Law & Order: Criminal Intent, CSI, Criminal Minds, and whatever else I can scare up to lose my critical thinking abilities in.

Instead, I have a million loose ends to fasten. I am going to be delivering the paper the last week I work where I do, and so I will be fairly exhausted over May 2-6, I imagine, so any deadline I have during that time I’m filling prior to the hell week.

So I will finish up a couple of pieces for various news outlets, I will look into writing for a couple of places online, I will drop off my insurance card at the paper, I may apply for a writing job in Chicago, I will run to best buy and shop for a scanner, and perhaps a new Windows laptop. I may also buy Snow Leopard for my mac.

My blog is boring.

I had an idea yesterday that I may do over the summer. I will call it the Woody Allen Project, and I will watch a Woody Allen film every couple of days and provide commentary.


This morning began with little Pearl helping me choose her clothes. She was instructed to wear red, white, and blue today at school yesterday. I wish I had read her folder papers (she gets nearly a ream home daily) last night. She got dressed while I packed her lunch, I opened her folder full of papers, and I found the missive from the school about why she is wearing red, white, and blue to school today.

Apparently, a kindergartner and 2nd grader have a dad who’s getting deployed, and that dad was coming to the school to raise the American flag this morning.

I feel like an unpatriotic beast, truly, but I might’ve made her choose other colors if I had read this blather sooner.

Fast forward to the exodus from our home. Pearl had her eye exam today at 8 a.m. I saw an article about Ron Paul in the waiting room copy of Esquire. The woman who helped us behind the desk looked a little bit like Amy Adams, on whom I have a minor girl crush (mostly for her role in Julie and Julia, but I admire other roles of hers like Junebug), and Pearl was telling her that she was wearing red, white, and blue to school, and that Mia’s dad might go away and never come back.

I told her that the dad was going to Iraq or Afghanistan, and that the official story is that he’s defending the country, but who knows what he’ll really be doing. Amy Adams look-alike gave me a little chuckle.

What I wanted to say is that the official story is that he’s defending his country, but really he’s getting paid a lot of taxpayer money to shoot at brown people who have nothing whatever to do with this harebrained war against an abstract concept, and that the only thing that seems to be actually at stake is the American ego, and that this ridiculous pursuit is so far beyond unnecessary that it makes my teeth hurt.

Here’s the part that hurts my soul the most: It is not this weird show of support and honor for this man who is, in fact, risking his life for his country, even though he has two small children and a wife who will be without him if he gets gunned to smithereens. It is that these apparently thoughtless school personnel mandate this show of support. To me, observations of patriotism should be a personal as the religion one chooses. I wonder if they would be as eager to celebrate a dad who is a prison guard? Or a dad who shamelessly takes his life into his hands by riding a motorcycle?

I know that there’s no real way to predict whether one will have to go to another place and shoot at people when one enlists in the military. But that is the point, that’s what the military is for, there is always a reasonable expectation that there will be war. Why celebrate this guy who knowingly risks his life, potentially widowing his wife and orphaning his children? Sterilization should be standard military issue, just like the haircut and the camo uniform. I suppose our war heroes would be a little less tragic if they didn’t leave behind spouses and children sometimes, but would that be such a bad thing?

Now, I have some reservations about posting this, because I am reasonably certain that this post will actually garner comments on my blog from Googling nincompoops with misguided, self-righteous, conservative leanings. And to these people, I say only this: I am not a democrat. I am a libertarian. Look it up before you attack me and my education and my plastic framed glasses and my NPR.

Today’s Miscellane

Today, I learned that the bank I have been banking with for over a year and have never bounced a check, passed a bad check, or behaved poorly otherwise, would rather inconvenience and annoy me than harbor a check for me in a timely fashion.

I got new glasses! They are fabulous, and I can see!

I gave notice at my job!

I am watching Tangled with Pearl. It is adorable, but not feminist. Someone told me it was. They were wrong.

I have been working on my linked in profile, and making it thorough and beautiful for my soon increasing quest for freelance writing work.

My phone is almost dead, the mail just came, and I submitted a neato Q&A with a neato band. You can check them out at


Dear Faithful (and unfaithful) Readers of this Blog,

This is the day that I have committed to my new life. My new life full of uncertainty and mastery of my own destiny. I suppose it could be argued that one is always master of one’s own destiny, but this new endeavor of mine is a vocational commitment unlike others because the stakes are higher.

The stakes are higher because as of May 7, I will be a fully self-employed human. And I will be self-employed without the trappings of some other company giving me the tools. I will be president, CEO, and sole proprietor of April Line Writing. April Line Writing delivers newspapers for the moment, too.

The scary part: I am leaving an EXCELLENT job. One with benefits and a 401K and paid vacation. I am releasing myself into the cold, cruel, shit-economy reality that is America in 2011. There are people who will tell me I am crazy for making this leap of faith. That is for them. Here in my boots, I would be crazy not to make this leap of faith.

This is a leap of faith I have been waiting to take. I have reached a moment in my life as a freelancer wherein I have more work than I can manage with a full time job, but need more to match my present income.

More important, however, than the remarkable self-examination, neurosis, and slow beginning that will occur in the next several months is that I will once again be able to be a present mom and partner. I will take Pearl to the library and be able to hang out with her during her summer break. I will be able to make dinner every night and organize myself comprehensively. And I will have enough. I will not have more than I need, but I will have enough.

What this means to you: Maybe you will see weird stuff on my blog, and blog posts that don’t make exact sense (these may be posts that I am being paid to write, banners I am being paid to post), and you’ll get more of me. My loony thoughts, and probably my sedate, philosophical ones, too.