The Secret Life of the Proletariat

Because you really want to know about my day-to-day struggles – as a PhD student, as a teacher, as a writer, as a lover of cats and dogs and other furry creatures, as a person stuck in Lubbock, TX, while the rest of my family is in Georgia and Illinois, as someone living at or below the poverty level, as a nonreligious gentile fascinated (perhaps obsessed) with Jewish literature and culture, as an aging human being, to sum up: as a basically displaced person – I am baring it all for you, dear, dear reader.

Because today is the first day of the rest of my blog.

Because I actually did my little yoga practice this morning.

Because why not.

So, the semester – in which I was unwisely overloaded, as perhaps I will describe later in more detail – is finally over, which means I am free at last, at least until the summer session starts, to read the many, many books littering my room.  I’ve settled on the following to start:

• Wandering Stars, Sholem Aleichem’s novel about a traveling Yiddish theatre troupe
• To Be a Playwright, Janet Neipris’s book about, well, being a playwright

Dear reader, would you like to hear about my plans for my dissertation?  Whether you would or no, if you return here on a regular (or irregular)  basis, you are bound to encounter such information eventually.  In the meantime, I know you would appreciate a picture of one of the three cats (my roommate’s) who enjoy hanging out in my room with me:

Meet Jack! Jack has many varied interests: from sleeping on the sofa, to sleeping on the bed, Jack does it all – horizontally.

Check back soon for more hugely ambitious plans (like, I’m thinking of making a pot of tea) and images of cats…