thesis week intensity

If I haven't returned your phone calls, texts, smoke signals...it is because my thesis is due one week from today. Unfortunately, imminent doom is my only real motivator, but it is quite effective.

For motivation, my dissertating friend and I have been coming up with motivational themes every week. A couple weeks ago it was "Keep up the intensity," to remind myself that I have to stay on top of it, and can't just lapse into five-hour sessions of watching 30 Rock and eating Hot Tamales--just to give you one example of a completely hypothetical distraction.

Last week I upgraded to Shark Week intensity--because what is more intense than a whole week of sharks???

If you have any ideas for me for even intenser themes--I can use all the help I can get. There are a zillion distractions and at least two hopelessly crappy chapters between here and next Monday.

and uzi!

I went to DC to meet this little one last weekend, and he stood me up. He decided to come five days late. I have to say, from the looks of it, he is worth the wait.

The advent of Ali and Curt's baby, or "Uzi" as he has been nicknamed, means the family offspring has tripled in the last week and a half. I think I am won over by the power of babies. I had almost forgotten how a newborn makes the whole family unabashedly sentimental, and in the best way, a little bit giddy.

welcome elle marie

A niece! Little does she know what an extaordinarily long line of women, and more women, she has fallen into. We are so happy to have her--the long-awaited next installment.

I wish I could be with her and see her almond eyes and touch her little seashell ears. If I could, maybe I would read her this poem:


Mrs. Adam
by Kathleen Norris

I have lately come to the conclusion that I am Eve,
alias Mrs. Adam. You know, there is no account
of her death in the Bible, and why am I not Eve?
Emily Dickinson in a letter,
12 January, 1846


Wake up,
you’ll need your wits about you.
This is not a dream,
but a woman who loves you, speaking.


She was there
when you cried out;
she brushed the terror away.
She knew
when it was time to sin.
You were wise
to let her handle it,
and leave that place.


We couldn’t speak at first
for the bitter knowledge,
the sweet taste of memory
on our tongues.


Listen, it’s time.
You were chosen too,
to put the world together.