All The Posts I Haven’t Yet Written

What does a blogger do when she’s feeling frustrated, stretched, and simultaneously directionless?

She pulls out all the posts she’s started and dumps them into a single post.

Image by docoverachiever, via Flickr

1. At the end of the school year, I took my four plus the two from carpool to the library. Their mother said they could bring home as many books as they could carry. I had to giggle (inwardly, of course) when I saw the way they struggled with the stack of books. They took that directive very literally and went right to the edge.

2. The interstate bridge work that’s caused traffic nightmares for our part of town is finally winding down. It’s been very interesting to watch, but I’m so glad all the entry points to the north are available as options again. We were getting epic lines at the 4-way stop.

3. Does it bother anyone else that cards are being taken without PIN number or signature? I mean, how much time does it really take, and as overly freaked out about privacy as we are these days, why on earth are they doing away with layers of security?

4. Once, I thought I’d write a whole post about how different classical music evokes different food associations for me. But then I realized, if modern culture can only handle classical music as a blazing billboard advertising: “BAD GUY! BAD GUY!”, then who would read such a post? Still, I’ll say this much: Rachmaninov Vespers is like butter cake, so rich you feel your arteries clogging up. Glorious, so glorious that I can only listen to it in small doses because it feels as if I’m going to turn into a Marvel movie CG and shatter into shining pieces of light. This April I played in the orchestra that accompanied the university choirs. We did Symphony of Psalms and Alexander Nevsky, but the concert began with an a cappella selection from the Vespers, and when they sang it at dress rehearsal I fell to pieces, right there in the front row of the orchestra. Being in the middle of that sound was an overload to the emotional circuitry. It was amazing.

Why don’t I just stop there and leave you with a glorious shadow of that experience? It’s less than three minutes. Come on. You can let this play for three minutes in the background while you check Facebook and Twitter.