Ramblings of a Thirty-Something

*Full Disclosure (it's a hell of a thing...sorry):  I wrote this post in mid-August, trying to be proactive...so I didn't actually just finish reading it...and the books have arrived* I just finished reading a book. I know what you’re thinking. You’re a reading teacher who is going to library school. Don’t you do this all the time? Yes, yes I do. But THIS BOOK, readers! This. Book. First off, let me say that I bought this book like 5+ years ago. I have a problem, you see, and if it were neater, I would show you a picture of my bookshelf to illustrate just how big of a problem this is. But it is not neat, and therefore you shall not see it. Glad that’s out of the way. I bought this book all those years ago because the description on the back reminded me of a BBC America original show that I loved called Copper, which was about an Irish policeman in New York just at the end of the Civil War. It was gritty and raw without being too bloody, and I fell in l

What exactly to call you people? This is one of the many dilemmas I have encountered following my decision to return to blogging. I like to talk to you people in some of my posts, but I have not been able to figure out how to collectively refer to you. The obvious choice was “readers,” but when I say, “Reader, blah blah blah blah,” I feel like I’m stealing Charlotte Bronte’s line {and if you haven’t read Jane Eyre , then I’ll just go ahead and NOT tell you what I’m talking about. So go read it. Like right now. I’ll wait.} But I didn’t just want to refer to you all as “guys” or “peeps” {cuz I’m definitely cool enough for that last one}, and I don’t feel I can pull off “y’all” on a consistent basis, especially when I’m waxing poetic about my love for 19 th century British writers. And even though I say “okay, kiddos” a hundred thousand times a day from August to May, I don’t know how many of you fit into that category. So what did I do? I turned to the internet. And th

Can you believe the day is almost here? The day we get to go back? And no, before you ask, I am NOT talking about school. We’ve already been back at school for almost a month…where have you been? And no, I’m also not talking about the future. Sorry, Doc and Marty. No, I mean the day we get to go back…to Downton. *cue stirring piano themes* I’ve tried filling the void left by the Crawley family in many different ways. Victoria, The Crown , Doctor Thorne {also a Julian Fellowes project}, various Jane Austen adaptations. Each are fantastic in their own way, obviously. But I’ve missed the Downton Abbey characters. The series finale is, in my opinion, one of THE BEST series finales of all time. Everyone ended in a good place. Bates and Anna had a beautiful baby, Thomas was back, Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were happy, all of the Crawleys were happy…I cried through most of it. Happy tears, of course. For the most part. It was beautiful. And they didn’t do t

The last time I posted on this blog, we were waiting for the seventh season of Game of Thrones to start . The last time I posted on this blog, I was working on a master’s degree at ISU. The last time I posted on this blog, I was still a twenty-something. Yep, had to change the name of the blog. And the last time I posted on this blog, this blog had become something I never wanted it to:   a burden. It felt like something I had to do rather than wanted to do. So I stopped writing. Really, of any kind, for a good ten months. Maybe longer. I’m not going to get philosophical and try to dig some deep-rooted meaning as to why. This is what I look like in my head when I'm writing... I was burnt out. I had no more ideas. I felt like I wasn’t growing as a writer. I kept writing the same-old, same-old posts about hobbits and Jane Austen and Christmas songs. So I quit. And then this summer, I realized something. I like writing about hobbits and Jane Auste