The Featured Post Blog

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

by: one

I think I should have touched him sooner.  I'm just afraid of that, too, because I have a tendency to experience (and inspire) such an escalation in lust.  It seems there's no light making out or petting sessions out there.  I'm afraid to start something that gets out of control.  And I'm still gluing bits of me back together again.  The ex made me so nervous that I had to restrain myself.  I never knew if he would be receptive to my affections, and I loved him so much I wanted to leap on him every time he walked through the door.  It was a horrible thing, being the kind of person who craves physical attention but not being free to behave so.

And I think too much.  I was determined not to size HPG up in a long-term sense, a classic way for me to dismiss people as quickly as possible.  I tried not to pick apart some of his goofyness.  After all, I'm a fan of goofy.  And I can be completely ridiculous myself.  I smiled too much.

I'm too shy.

And too ticklish.
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posted by: howard at 21:15 | link | comments |

by: jabberwocky

The countdown is affecting the kids, but it is also affecting me.  I have started spending my free periods outside by the little pond and waterfall, allowing myself to be soothed by the rushing water and warblers.  Sometimes the seniors venture outside with the botany class and come over to say hello.  I had a number of them in British Literature last year.  One student I do not know who always yells my name out in the hallway sat down next to me this afternoon with a concerned look on his face. 

"You so pale! Get under that tree before you burn up!"  I had to laugh. He's right. My nose and a small v on my chest ended up red and sore this evening.
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posted by: howard at 15:46 | link | comments |

by: EmmaPele

Watching Aidan Quinn as Crusoe, blowing on some moss to make it burn, Emma ruminates that she always loves a good castaway story.  Even Castaway, with all of its Fed X product placements.  A strong element of Emma's childhood was imagining that she was a castaway.   Not as in a hostage drama.  She never imagined she'd been taken captive.  Too weak. Though a victim of fateful disaster, a castaway has independence of spirit.
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posted by: howard at 23:51 | link | comments |

by: giuli

This is a favorite photo of mine as a kid. I was only three here. My mother took me to school, as she did every day. It must have been my first day, in fact. She had decided to dress me up in school uniform so that I'd blend in okay with her grade-one pupils. I was given my own desk at the backmost row. I guess I drew a lot of attention at first that my mother would often tell her pupils not to mind me. But then the novelty of me eventually wore off. So I'd listen sometimes, or play most of the time, at the back, and nobody would mind me unless I got a wee bit too noisy, which I didn't, really. I loved that red lunchbox. It's all that mattered to me. Let’s not talk about the hair.
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posted by: howard at 14:19 | link | comments (1) |

by: kandy

Expectations Met!!!!!!

I just got home. Been in the hospital since last tuesday, but wanted to let everyone know that she is here.



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posted by: howard at 00:02 | link | comments |