I don't know what it is about my husband and cameras, but he can't take a decent picture to save his life. He thinks he can...but...well, it's like when they do dishes and we quietly do them again hoping they won't notice.

Anyway, I graduated, bad pics and all. (edit - figured out how to link and added one more pic of me, G, and my grandpa earlier today).

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After busting butt for a year to get the core curriculum for my Master's degree out of the way, I then got pregnant and took the next two years to complete comps, an 85 page thesis, and build a family. I guess you could say my plan didn't work out, but better things happened. And I'm finally officially getting that stupid degree on Saturday with my good foreverandever friend Lisa, who now lives in Amarillo. I'm glad we'll be there together, silly Master's hoods and all.--read more >>

1. Maybe TMI, but my man's got a yeast infection. Yes, it's probably my fault. Any recommended home cures?

2. Whether you won a million dollar lottery or inherited bookoo bucks, have any of you mamas (or maybe someone you know) found yourself suddenly wealthy? If so, how did you (or the person) handle it?

A while ago I replied to another mama's post about her annoyance with bible thumpers on her university campus. My opinion is that it's ok to have them there, and that it's the passer-by's choice to ignore or engage them in their proselytizing. But university campuses are filled with legal adults.

What if it happened at your kid's school? Yes, public school.--read more >>

Lordy, I’ve got to get to work. I’ve got all these stories and interviews backing up. Everything’s done; every person’s words are on paper…now I’ve gotta get in gear and just do it.

Which, of course, I’m not currently doing. Sigh.--read more >>

Or, welcome to the new age ye olde professores. I found these while taking a university survey...wow. The definitely made me rethink how to teach (even something as lame-o as Freshman English).

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Al Sharpton said yesterday, "We strategically know how to stop this city so it will stand still and realize that you do not have the right to shoot down unarmed innocent civilians with no probable cause…But they show now that they will not hold police accountable. Well, guess what. If you won’t, we will."--read more >>

Gosh, life's been crazy the past few days...and it ain't gonna get any better any time soon. But I've got a lot to be thankful for, even if I don't ever get enough sleep, my baby yells at me, and my yoni's feeling grody.

Everyone else is doing it, so here are my grats:

1. It seems like everyone I meet lately has either had a hard pregnancy, a low birthweight baby, or kids with problems. Both of mine are hale and healthy. Both were over 8lbs at birth, both took to the nip immediately, both are happy/crazy kids.--read more >>

Ok, folks, I'm in a bit of a bind. There's a poem penned by a female poet that is primarily about the sexualization of Jesus. To the best of my recollection, the woman in the poem is fantasizing about sex with Jesus and it was written either in the late Enlightenment or Victorian era (though I'm leaning more toward Enlightenment). Any idea who this poet or the what the poem's title is?

Tomorrow, 2 p.m. Grandpa watching the wee man. Ex husband watching the mid-size man. Freedom to talk to four grown, intelligent, and somewhat attractive men about my passion for at least an hour. It's just a teaser of things to come. *Swoon*

It's kinda sick that I look forward to my thesis defense so much.

The kid's been screaming at me for over three hours. We've rocked, we've crooned along with Sinatra, he's sucked the tits dry. That damn storm went through last night, ripped up the town, and he hasn't been sane since. And I've never been sane, so it's a double suck. Lunch was summarily refused by his highness. The Simpsons was too. I so hate my husband right now, with his full nights of sleep and job to escape to during the day. Feck.

I haven't written much of anything personal or public since Florida almost three months ago. Seems like a lifetime.

Death is hard on those who have never lost a human loved one, someone he or she was especially close to. We have to pretend that we understand, that we know how it is, that acting like a little bitch for weeks on end is A-ok because your mother died. We pretend, and we pretend well.--read more >>

My husband's momma passed on yesterday morning, officially at around 1 pm EST, but she left her body closer to 1030 or 11 that morning. It was all a matter of signing forms and stopping the resperator. I've never seen a person die. I was with my kitty when she passed, and she was my family, but never a person sans fuzz.--read more >>

My husband, the wee little man, and I are in Florida with his family. I've been up for almost 24 hours with somewhere around 3 hours of broken sleep. This is rambly, I realize.

His mom is dying. She'll likely not make it. I'm not big into vibes for this kind of thing, but what she does need are prayers. Whoever you pray to, we're not picky. Just pray.

She declined rapidly after recieving her first bout of chemo about three weeks ago. We're waiting to see the results of a brain wave test thingy to see if she's even here anymore.--read more >>

You're being spied on.

I'm not into shameless plugs, but my latest piece is likely of interest to some of you. Clickity click click.

I've been debating whether or not I even want to further pursue direct writing as a career. You don't go into it with expectations of fame, glory, or riches. Apparently "gumption" and strong shoes don't cut it anymore either. The local paper recently fired one of the greatest journalists I've ever known - honest, incredibly intelligent, and painfully eloquent (in a West Texas sort of way).

I am sad to see Perry go.--read more >>

Not only did I get a 50% raise, but more work. Gracias por los vibes!

I've been working a piece on a couple with two kids, one a toddler one almost a year, with the husband staying home and the wife on deployment to Afghanistan. She's been pumping and sending milk to him for five months via DHL. From Afghanistan! That's pretty cool.

No raise yet, but I did get to write about breastfeeding. It's a sortof compensation. Sortof.--read more >>

That sonofabitch neighbor of mine - the one with the cat-eating pit bull - finally agreed to pay for half of the total vet bill. I went to their house, he said he'd go out and get the money orders and drop them by later. Later came, and my mouth was just watering to tell him off. I had it all planned out, the perfect parting words for my new foe. And the bastard sent his kid over with the money.

His kid. Teenage. Boy.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.--read more >>

I asked for a raise.

Big, deep, cleansing sigh.

We really need the money - suddenly everything, including surprise bills, sortof piled up all at once and our barely-eeking-an-existance lifestyle became vastly insufficient.

I write freelance for a local paper. The pay sucks, but it could suck less. So I asked for a raise.

BTW, any of you ladies know much/anything about freelance writing?

2007 has been insane. It began as many years prior began – with sleep. I’ve never been much for watching the ball drop, kissing strangers or loved ones as the bell tolls midnight, or getting sillyfaced drunk in the name of new beginnings. I had my own new beginning, and a very good reason for sleeping. After all, I was growing a new life under my heart. I wasn’t really sure whether or not I wanted that new life, or whether I’d be able to handle it at all.--read more >>

I just read Gretchen Clark's bit on hipmama's homepage. Wow. It's like someone dug inside my head and spewed out all of the emotional BS/experiences of pregnancy with kiddo#2. Except I wasn't married, my SO wasn't gainfully employed (for that matter, neither was I), I already had a seven-year-old, and I wanted something for me, dammit, something(anything) for me.

I guess I screwed that up. Hmph.--read more >>