The Featured Post Blog

A collection of the featured posts as they appeared on mo'time

by: AmericanGirl

So Ryan and I were driving home from his very last day of work this morning when I looked at the clock and said "Do you realize that by this time tomorrow, we're going to be PARENTS!"  How crazy is that?  I mean...they'll just let anyone have a kid, won't they?  Doesn't it seem like there should be a very long and extensive application process?  Lots and lots of red tape?  I suppose that technically you could call it a nine month waiting period, but not really, because I happen to think that the ride starts the moment you see two lines on the stick and start frantically wondering about all the unhealthy things you may have done in the past two weeks.  Argh!  Green Beer!  (Sorry AB!)
 
I literally pulled an all nighter.  I couldn't sleep if I wanted to.  In fact, I'm having a hard time just sitting here and writing this, because every few minutes I just need to get up and pace the floor a little.  Nervous energy.  Ten thousand thoughts and hopes and fears.  Ten thousand of each.  My doctor was wise enough to give me a nice prescription sleeping pill for tonight.  Sheesh, I wonder if I'll need it?  I can tell Ryan didn't sleep either, because he came home and crashed pretty quickly.  But first we stopped for breakfast, and the person who seated us asked when the baby was due, and I was able to say "Tomorrow morning".
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posted by: howard at 21:30 | link | comments |

by: Leigh

his hair is short and he is wearing a black t-shirt that says, "Ginsberg is god." i think about the t-shirt and about sayings on t-shirts. my kids have t-shirts with sayings on them. i don't. i do have a t-shirt from the turks and caicos from a bar that has a shark head on the front in a little corner and it says, "what big teeth you have" and then on the back some logo and the bar's name, the shark bar. basically an ad, but a cool one. it is old and i wear it in the summer. other t-shirts bite the dust.
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posted by: howard at 21:45 | link | comments |

by: mary

Damn. Yes, she's right, we all agreed. I flaunt it sometimes. It's not the best brain, not the most beautiful, not necessarily perky, not bigger or longer or leaner or more muscular than any other. But I'm not afraid to expose it. I'm not afraid to let it slip or wear it naked, even. I love my intellect and I'll show it off from time to time.
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posted by: howard at 09:47 | link | comments |

by: indigo4963

I got off of work a little early, went home to see the kids briefly. I hadn't seen them in 5 days, but I had plans for the evening, so I hugged them goodbye and left them with GF. I drove to M's house, dropped off my car and we drove to the train station. We had a few minutes to spare before catching the 5:08p train into NYC. On the ride down, we chatted about dating, relationships, marriage, divorce, concerts, fears, and life goals. Good talk.

We got off the train at Grand Central and made our way to the subway. We took the 4-5-6 train down to Union Square, and then discovered it was raining. I guess I shoulda brought my raincoat. Standing outside Virgin Records, I tried calling my high school buddy, R, who is in NY working on his doctorate in anthropology. At his work # I got voicemail, home number busy. We got our bearings and headed toward Irving Plaza. Under some shelter on Irving, I called R again, this time talking to his wife. She told me he was already on his way, so I tried him on his cell. A few minutes later, we were shaking hands.
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posted by: howard at 09:39 | link | comments |

by: Yoshick

In an era where distressed damsels are a novelty, and knights are an endangered species, you have to wonder what's wrong with you when you don't get excited at the sight of polished armor.

It doesn't make a difference that a thousand people chant that line, it is better to have loved and to have lost, but haven't we heard that before in a story of all things? In a piece of fiction? Let's face it, storytellers make things up. They're just like that kid you couldn't stand in elementary school, the one who was laughable until he turned into kind of a sociopath. Shakespeare's a liar and a blabber mouth, Hans Christian Anderson was clearly a sadist, and the Brothers Grimm were perverts. The original Red Riding Hood? Perverts, I'm telling you.

I don't think Rapunzel was in that tower because she had to be. I don't think she wanted to leave it. (I bet she had broadband.) Rapunzel is the story of an accidental protagonist who tried to have it both ways, and lost them all. Women in towers aren't victims. Men on horses aren't heros. At least, not by default.
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posted by: howard at 01:50 | link | comments |

by: kenjprice

...The holes in the jigsaw puzzle are filling in, although one or two holes have healed around their edges, leaving permanent voids. Now and then some event prompts a rapid scuttling of pieces into place.
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posted by: howard at 12:15 | link | comments |

by: coldwish

When I was very young, lo’ these many decades ago now, I was invited to a birthday slumber party by a girl my age. We were maybe 10 or 11 years old. She invited many girls from our school. I was not very popular, being fairly new (i.e. not having been there at least 3 generations), and she was not very popular either. I was excited to be invited but also hesitant. I didn’t really know her. I knew where she stood in the social hierarchy of girls, and I knew I stood not very much higher. But all the other girls were the cool ones I liked, so I accepted.

On the day of the party my mother dropped me off at this girl's house up on the ridge. I arrived thinking I was the first and soon found out I was to be the ONLY guest that night. All the other girls had canceled: sick, busy, grounded, not interested and too polite to reject the invitation right out, or just didn’t show. It was easier to come up with a last minute excuse not to go. I was mortified as I watched the realization dawn on her that no one else was coming to the party.
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posted by: howard at 08:27 | link | comments |

by: merserene

At times like those you can pay attention to only one thing. Only occurred to me seconds afterwards to get out of the street in case other cars approached.

I finally understand why it is difficult for eye witnesses to recall details. You're still reeling from the shock that you just can't think rationally. It's a good thing the station wagon actually stopped, and the driver actually got out to check on the guy he had just hit. Otherwise, I don't think anyone would've caught his license plate number.
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posted by: howard at 22:42 | link | comments |