The Fiery Quill

It all started with a pair of shoes. An an assuming pair of nursing clogs that I like to wear to work (I'm on my feet the majority of the day). They are mild mannered enough, I suppose. But yes (sigh), they were born a rather loud shade of orange. It's not their fault, they didn't ask to be orange! Their color sets them apart from the rest, belies but a corner of their layered personality. They also have a tendency to squeak. A sweetly-toned , consistent little squeak. The squeak can be reassuring after a particularly difficult patient (or co-worker!). The squeakiness is friendly, softens the edges of a shoe that might otherwise alarm. Beware, the balding stalwart who object to any departure from the normal! To those who fear them, this simple pair of clogs has an air of insouciance, even an unspoken threat. "Be gone", they say. But even when they are not walking the sterile halls ...this small pair of shoes lives on. Like the wearer, they are not afraid to be bol...

I must be getting more cynical in my old age...recently I have been having a problem with Christmas. Oddly enough, it's not the commercialization that bothers me...I mean, heck! According to scholars, we don't even celebrate the right day for Jesus'birthday, so what does it really matter if we start putting out Christmas decorations in October? Technically it should be in March anyway. I have no problem believing in a higher power: be that God, Allah, Budda, or the great power within. And I believe that Jesus must have been a truly amazing and inspiring man. It is clear what kind of affect this lowly son of a carpenter had on many. He died 2000 years ago and people still speak His name with respect and reverence. It's the actually story of Christmas that I have trouble with...if we ar not even sure what day these event occurred on, then how could we possibly know what happend? I suspect, for most Christians, this is where faith comes in. That believing it happened is en...

A week ago, I was crazy enough (or motivated!) to participate in my first half marathon. I am proud to say that I conquered the 13.1 mile monster. And I did it in a very respectable 2 hours, 25 minutes and 17 seconds. I couldn't believe how good I felt and how much adrenaline can make up for not really believing that I could make it past 7 miles (the most I had ever run at one time). I just kept seeing the mile markers go by in the fog: 7,9,11, 13, until I found myself at the finish line. And I might add, with enough energy to SPRINT across said finish line!! I am very proud of myself for running this massive race...and the sick thing is that I would do it all over again. Adrenaline IS addictive, you know. This is my idea of an extreme sport. Vamos !!

I ask you....is there really a difference between one brand of bottled water and another? Or is there even a difference between what you get off that shelf at your local grocery store and what comes out of your tap? I am not convinced of this alleged difference. Now don't get me wrong, I firmly believe that one can taste the difference between water out of different sinks or fountains. For example, the water out of my tap at home actually tastes pretty good (especially considering it is Weaverville city water)...but you will not catch me drinking the water out of the fountain at the gym. Let's just say it has a distinct metallic bouquet to it (not to mention the unsettling thought of all those meatheads' sweaty upper lips coming in close contact to said fountain...but I digress). And I do not believe that there is really much of a difference between a name brand and a store brand. They both taste fine to me (and believe me, I've tried alot of different kinds). I recall ...

I don't know what it is about ex-boyfriends, specifically ones I have broken up with....they seem to think that if they wait a few weeks, or a month or so, that I will have changed my mind and just desperately want them back. Riiiiiight. What part of "I'm not in love with you anymore" do you not understand. It just reinforces the reason why I broke up with him in the first place! I mean, he clearly doesn't respect me and my decision enough to take either seriously...or he wouldn't be attempting to second guess me. EARTH TO EX: WE ARE NOT A COUPLE AND WE WON"T EVER BE AGAIN. That clear enough, you think? I have no desire to be with a fanatic sports-loving, no goal-making, content to rot in job because you are too set in your ways to get another one, not liking me going out with my friends (whatever), Playboy subscription-having at the age of the 36, stuck in the 80's music playing, clothes-shopping at second-hand stores, computer and cellphone/technolo...

I am a fool. Again. I can't believe Rob had me convinced that he really did have feelings for me after all this time. What a naive idiot I have been. After all that romantic bullshit he fed me over the last month...all the promises. What a waste of my time and energy. I don't know if he actually meant it or not. Because now he says that, after our visit last weekend, "and then from my end the spark, while still there, was much smaller than I had anticipated or expected." I've got one word for this....ouch. I've never been enough for this guy, and I never will be. Or maybe I'm too much. Either way, my heart is broken. And the sad thing is, this is not the first time I've let him him do this. I should have known better. I really should have. It's ok that I am single, I can handle that. What is hard for me to handle is being rejected so completely. Am I that bad? I think not! For crying out loud, I may not be the smartest or presttiest or best...but I...

Last week I got a postcard from Hong Kong. It has pandas playing on the front..it does not surprise me that this particular friend would remember they are my favorite animal. 6 years ago, I had a housemate when I lived near London for a semester in college. She has got to be one of the most fascinating people I know. Her parents are Chinese, but left Hong Kong before she was born, and immigrated to Holland. My friend speaks Dutch, 2 dialects of Chinese, English, German and some French. She would crack me up when I'd hear her on the phone speaking softly in Dutch with her sister, and then switch to a very loud and forceful Chinese with her mother.The first time I heard her do this, I asked if everything was ok...had she had a fight with her mother? Oh, no, she said, we were just talking about some recipes she was trying out. I haven't seen her or spoken with her on the phone since we parted ways on a cold night in December in 1999. But we have faithfully kept in touch through e-...