A greyhound won the National Dog Show:
Thanksgiving Miracle: Our greyhounds are cuddling.
Commercials: I’ve noticed that commercials this holiday season have a particularly tenderhearted quality about them. It’s nice.
I Got Gilmored: Yes, I’m a fan. Yes, I’ve been bingeing seasons 1-7 for the last several months. Yes, I bought a box of Pop-Tarts to toast Gilmore Girls: A year in the Life. Yes, I might have squealed when I heard the opening music and saw the beloved gazebo. No, I did not expect the #lastfourwords.
Swimming in uncertainty about whether or not we’ll return to Stars Hollow, I’ve been reading as many think pieces as I can to hold on to that Gilmore feeling. Here are a few I particularly liked or was amused by:
Reading (too many things at once): With the semester coming to a close and lots of papers to grade, I find that I keep collecting books to read without finishing them, assuming the next one will satisfy something in me that the previous one didn’t:
You Are Here: Discovering the Magic of the Present Moment by Thích Nhất Hạnh
How to Train A Wild Elephant: And Other Adventures in Mindfulness by Jan Chozen Bays
Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui by Karen Kingston
(These three books are all an attempt to remedy semester stress)
Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson
(Recommended to me by a friend because I had never read anything by Anne Carson. I’m reading this with the hope that it will make me feel smart. Instead, it makes me feel like endeavoring is pointless. So now I pull it out and read it when I feel like I’m trying too hard at something).
Feeling Very Strange: The Slipstream Anthology Edited by James Patrick Kelly and John Kessel
(Reading this one slowly, a story at a time. Have been pulling it out when I need something to put reality in perspective.)
Fates and Furies by Lauren Groff
(Picked this up because I wanted to get lost in beautiful sentences. So far so good.)
New Addition to the Brain Injury Glossary: gravel brain – when it feels like there are pebbles sitting on top of my frontal lobe, small but still heavy, with spaces between them that allow brief moments of lucidity to shine through.