(throw back) Saturday morning

Sitting here at work, way to early on a Saturday, I’m reminded of a piece I wrote a copy of years ago, when I was struggling with that post-graduate, job-you-love-some-aspects-of-but- you-feel-doesn’t-work-you-to-your-full-potential experience.  This fist appeared in Illinois State University’s literary journal, Euphemism:

The flip side of a copy

Rachael Stanford

Time moves slowly when you’re a glorified copy wench. As the pale glow of replication illuminates the growing wrinkles adorning my face, the realization slowly sinks in. A train monkey could take my place, not a NASA rocketeering monkey either but a sleep-most-of-the-day in between poo-flinging one.

As the minutes tick to the void, my eyes scan the room. I want to rip down the OSHA poster, burn it to the ground, screaming to my coworkers, “six years, two degrees, honors societies and publications have to amount to more than paper cuts. And sleepless nights slaved away with library crammed house should amount to more than a no-benefits, crap-dollar an hour pay.”  I want to start anew.

A battled scared vet returning to a reformed nation, I find myself longing to be lost in The Wasteland, strung out and strung up in a hotel full of beatniks and hippies hell bent on filling the worlds with flowers.  But the best minds of my generation are wasting away in cheaply pressed suits, long retail hour eyes wearied, as their back breaks with the loans on which their future was built/destroyed.  And my rent is due in a week.

The copy machine spits out my order. As my hands shake, I pick up each warm piece, permeating my skins. But my bones shake as I turn out the light and slowly walk away, each step echoing down the hallway.

So you’re trapped on a desert island

I always think it’s a fun question, you’re trapped on a desert island, a seemingly magical one where your basic needs are taken care of so most of your day is spent lounging in a self made hammock, sipping fruity drinks and reading books. The question also asked is what ten books (yes the joys of arbitrary numbers) would you pick? Comment below and let me know

My picks:

1) Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut

2) Ariel by Sylvia Path

3) Walden by Thoreau

4) Man Without A Country by Kurt Vonnegut

5) Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin

6) Mr. Darcy’s Diary by Amanda Grange

7) Winkie by Clifford

8) Alice in Wonderland by Lew Carol

Totally cheating) Rurouni Kenshin (series)  by Nobuhiro Watsuki

And 10) ???? Well I’m not sure, maybe you could help me pick that last

(For REM fans, here’s a fun look at what Michael Stipe would choose)

I’m not dead, I’m just a mommy…..

Just a quick note at work, I realize this last year that I have very sadly let this blog go downhill. (What can I say motherhood has kicked my artistic ASS). But on the plus side, my amazing illustrator is making progress on our children’s book, I have a youtube series in the work and I’m finely writing poetry again. So please bare with me as I slowly work my  way back to artistic glory or at least.  And until that way, enjoy a progress sketch of Monster’s Don’t Hugs.


Peace n Love,


Yale documents weird regional English, deems it “grammatical diversity”

“‘My aunt makes hats all the time anymore.’ ‘The car needs washed.’ ‘I so might run this race with you.’ Relax, grammar nerds. There is no need to vomit with rage at these apparent abuses of the English language. These strange sentences are merely examples of the colloquial expressions collected by Yale’s Grammatical Diversity Project. Through nationwide surveys and online crowdsourcing, Yale’s diligent researchers set out to catalog as many weird, regionally-specific phrasings as they could find throughout the United States, the United Kingdom, and parts of Canada. “I so might run this race with you,” for instance, is an example of what Yale deems the “dramatic so,” a California specialty which also turns up frequently in New York. Surprisingly, grammatical diversity has not been the subject of much academic attention previous to the Yale study, which finds that grammar is further affected by age, ethnicity, and social class. Of course, anyone who has ever traveled beyond the borders of his or her home state might have made the same basic observations.

But now, thanks to Yale, there is a clickable online map which allows users to easily find examples of strange expressions particular to certain English-speaking cities, states, or regions. Each such phrase is given its own red location marker on the map. In Utah, for example: “He said I might could call purchasing and order it through someone else.” Or in Florida: “I ain’t never had no trouble with none of ‘em.” Or in Pennsylvania: “She really likes cuddled.” Yes, it’s a big, grammatically diverse world out there to explore. And for those who would prefer to digest this information in guide form rather than map form, Yale has your back. (AVCLUB)”

What are your guys thoughts? I think this is personally amazing! I get so very tired of people assuming that English fell from the heavens and that local and regional dialect is somehow inferior to standard English. Remember much of standard English was at one time on the outskits too!!!!!

Out of the ashes, I rise with my blonde hair……

I’m coming upon the year anniversary of my father’s death. And what has been, for a lack of a better term, the least productive year artistically of my life.

I was depressed about it. Lost, one could say in the volume of silence, the abyss of nothingness.

That was until yesterday when in a passing conversation with my fiance’s dad, I mentioned that I had previously been a math major.

“Math major, pshhh. Let me see those grades. You had to be failing that is the ONLY reason that anyone would switch from math to English…..”

Enraged, I took my grievance to social media where I got a bevy of responses similar to:

“Why would you do that????? He’s right. Don’t you know companies are poaching math and science high school teachers…..”

A rekindled fire burned with in me.

Why would I switch from Math to English?

Very simply, when it came down to studying for my Cal final freshman year of college, I decided instead to watch Young Guns.

Yes the 1980’s brat-pack western.

And it dawned on me, I was good at math, oh I was, (got a high A in the course) but I wasn’t passionate about it. I didn’t stay up late at night to study or work on math, but I sure as heck did for writing.

I have railed in previous posts about how much art matters, but have, through the course of the last year, partly forgotten how passionate I am about it.

His words, though, and others fuel my fire. Art matters. My art matters. You’re art matters.

And don’t let anyone tell you otherswise.

Now, where is my pen, do I dare to disturb the universe?

Just a quick update

I am going to try retooling my blog and making it a bit more mainstream. I know I have been ignoring this the last few months (a new born can do that to you.) But I’m recommiting myself to keeping this up. And I’m hoping that you can help, please take a minute to fill out the poll and leave a comment with advice, what do you like to see from a blog? 

Favorite Literary Memes

So I found out today that I didn’t get a job that I interviewed for (and had my heart set on) and further that I never had a chance because they had someone in mind already so I was just a filler interview. In short I’m a bit bummed. So If you have a literary meme that makes you laugh, please link below in the comments. I’ll start you out with my favorite! darcy meme