While we talk basically every day, Peter and I don’t see each other very often. He lives in Cambridge, Mass.; I live in Brooklyn, N.Y. (Once the book arrives in November, though, we’ll be traveling together a lot for promotional readings and talks. We’ll keep you posted on those events.)
He and his wife, Amy, invited me for Rosh Hashanah, and so, I made the trip. Amtrak was terrible, and I arrived to the new year’s dinner a little later than I’d hoped — right into the middle of a party. They’d invited several other friends, most of whom have kids, so I was tackled at the door (this was Peter’s son, Sam), and welcomed with my first ever bite of filter fish.
Scott starts teaching this week, a course similar to one that I taught for many years at Simmons College; a freshman expository writing course that uses texts relating to religion and cultural studies. One of the challenges that I faced in the classroom was how to not only be objective and allow all the students their own beliefs , but also how to not let my own beliefs bleed through in my teaching. And yet, I still struggle with whether or not this is an appropriate response in a religion class.
When I was a student at Harvard Divinity School, there was very little discussion in the classroom about individual belief, which is as it should be in a scholarly discussion of religion. And yet, at the same time, there was always a sense of something lacking. There was a point at which engagement with texts and ideas had to hit a wall, as we were all afraid to let our own religious views actually come to the surface. Continue reading “Belief Unbracketed”
Stealing stuff is stupid, but stealing pillows and leaving a trail of it to where you are sleeping on the stolen pillows is really stupid.
Apparently this guy and his friend broke into a department store, loaded up on things like pillows and hammocks, and then decided to just lay down and take a nap when (no surprise!) the police caught them.
You can read the full news story here. Looks pretty comfy, don’t you think?
Why Decimal Points Matter
We drove past this gas station with some awfully expensive Powerade Drinks the other day.
$250 is a big difference from $2.50. You’d think they would have noticed this and maybe changed what the sign said. But I guess it’s “close enough” for them.
WordPress Woes and a Name Tag
Well, I’ve finally finished upgrading to WordPress 2.6. It was kind of tricky, as it seems all of my plug-ins didn’t like the change and kept giving me errors saying “cannot redeclare snoopy”…I never heard of an error like that before!
Nonetheless, I have everything working now and I’m happy to say we’ve also got the SezWho plug, which is a new thing for entrecard users, giving you credits for comments You can learn more about that over at Entrecard.
Also today I’ve got a picture submitted to us by Dimaks of Ctrl + Alt + Delete:
It is a name tag from a waitress they had at a Japanese pizza shop. You can read the full story about it here.
This is a post from my sister: Anne.
So I have this pair of pants. (Okay, they’re capris, but who cares.) Wearing these capris is pretty damn close to wearing a cloud. They’re comfortable in all the right places and smooth as a baby’s bum from being washed so many times. They’re beige and are just starting to show their age; there’s a bleach spot on the cuff of the left leg and one of the pockets is ripped at the corner, but they’re great to bum around in.
I found them when I was pregnant with Julia, tucked away on a crowded clearance rack at a maternity clothing store. They didn’t look like maternity pants and I was pleasantly surprised when I tried them on and found they made me look good, which was a hard look to achieve because I looked like a manatee while pregnant with her. I broke them in so well that when I packed up my maternity stuff I left them out so I could wear them around the house. Seems I never put them away after I had Oliver, either. Continue reading “Mastering the art of self-humiliation”
Last night, out of the blue, I remembered something that I haven’t thought of in years. Let me take you back to my college days…
My roommate and I were sitting in the living room of our apartment passing the bong back and forth, trying to solve the Wheel of Fortune puzzle, when the phone rang.
A familiar-sounding male voice asked to speak to me. I placed him right away – it was Justin, a friend of mine. (Here’s where I pause for the cause and offer up a bit of background info: Justin was a great guy with a big heart. He was laid back, funny and super easy-going, and we clicked from the get-go. I always felt completely at ease when I was around him – able to be my normal, vulgar self.) Before I could answer him, he introduced himself as Brian, said he was calling from a major credit card company and explained that he had a fabulous offer lined up for me. I chuckled softly to myself – Justin was just the kind of guy who would call pretending to be a sales rep. Continue reading “What not to say to complete strangers”