Pool of water + cell phone = no more talky

I was distracted when Bella barfed in my car while I was cruising down I-35. E-mail me your phone number if you want to talk. When I get a new phone, I'll let you know.

Baylor, media and lots of pink ink

Forget the presidential debate. The news was all about Baylor today. Late last night The New York Times posted a story, based on The Lariat story my students broke last week. They ran our editorial cartoon in the print edition and online today. The Chronicle of Higher Education and Inside Higher Ed both ran stories on the Baylor debacle, too. The Dallas Morning News and Fort Worth Star-Telegram both ran the Times story online today. The blogosphere is going nuts. I have no comment on the content of the stories. I'm just proud of the students who are doing professional-level journalism and scooping local and national media outlets. Watch The Lariat for continued coverage. Thursday's story is amazing.

And now let's move on to other bizarre happenings in the journalism world. Check out the hot pink paper The Lubbock Avalanche-Journal put out in honor of breast cancer awareness. I don't know how much awareness it brought to breast cancer, but it sure brought some attention to the newspaper. Wowzers! What do you think of that?! 

Puppy Pampering (and I'm not talking diapers)

Tonight Bella got a spa treatment in a pre-celebration of her first birthday (Oct. 31). And by spa treatment I mean tooth-brushing and coat conditioner at the PetSmart grooming salon. They even threw in a Halloween bandana with her bath and haircut. Usually it takes them several hours to beautify my baby, but tonight she was the only customer and the center of attention. The groomers are always amazed by her sweet demeanor. The last time I dropped her off, they went through the litany of questions. Is she pregnant? Has she had her rabies shot? Does she have any behavioral problems ... (the groomer peers over the counter) ... aside from being a Schnauzer?

A vet tech once told me Bella must not realize what breed she is, since she's so sweet and calm and loving. Believe me, she has her hyper moments, which regularly include gnawing on the neck of a pit bull and jumping on my head while I'm trying to sleep. But she is a precious little thing and mostly very well behaved. And, like tonight's groomer noted, she likes to give kisses. Slurp!

Tomorrow she goes to the vet to get her bordatella treatment, which to my dismay resembles waterboarding. It's supposed to protect dogs from kennel cough. Instead of a shot, they squirt the medicine right up her little black nose. To her credit, she takes it stoically.

I haven't forgotten the epiphany. I'm letting it simmer so all the flavor soaks in.

I had an epiphany tonight. It tasted good.

Too bad you'll have to come back tomorrow to find out what my brilliant revelation was. I'm too tired to do it justice tonight. But it's, like, so totally profound. In the meantime, I'll leave you with this little video of the house of my (childhood) dreams. Maybe I should consider something similar in my current home search. Would living in a tree make me a bona fide hippie?

A desperate plea for attention

Apparently my blog is feeling neglected. (And rather more masculine than I imagined.) I am ashamed. So very ashamed. I will make it up to you.


This Is Julie's Blog Calling from robin o'shaughnessy on Vimeo.

Stupid comment of the day

Said tonight by a female grocery store clerk to a male grocery store clerk: "I wish I was pregnant so I could take a break every five minutes."

I gave her the same look you have on your face right now.

To quote one of my students, "she's not the brightest cookie in the barrel." 

Nothing is Lost

A bittersweet poem by Noel Coward that I can't stop pondering. Thanks to Stephen Sloan for introducing it to me.

Deep in our sub-conscious, we are told

Lie all our memories, lie all the notes

Of all the music we have ever heard

And all the phrases those we loved have spoken,

Sorrows and losses time has since consoled,

Family jokes, out-moded anecdotes

Each sentimental souvenir and token

Everything seen, experienced, each word

Addressed to us in infancy, before 

Before we could even know or understand

The implications of our wonderland.

They they all are, the legendary lies

The  birthday treats, the sights, the sounds, the tears 

Forgotten debris of forgotten years

Waiting to be recalled, waiting to rise

Before our world dissolves before our eyes

Waiting for some small, intimate reminder,

A word, a tune, a known familiar scent

An echo from the past when, innocent

We looked upon the present with delight

And doubted not the future would be kinder

And never knew the loneliness of night.

From Collected Verse, edited by Graham Payn & Martin Tickner (copyright Graywolf Press)