Archives for November 2011

Nov 16, 2011

Back to School

As I’ve alluded to before, I’ve been back in school since 2006. I’d wanted to go back to college for many years, and I finally figured out how I could swing it. I was fortunate enough to be working at the University of Southern Maine at the time, and was able to take two classes a semester for free.

Student debt aside, I am so glad I did it. Going back to school was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, a long-term challenge, it meant I needed to delay gratification until I finished. But it has been one of the best things I’ve done too. If I didn’t have support from my family and most of all from Edmund, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. And, at age 40-something, 25 years after I graduated from high school, I will have my Bachelor’s degree. Finally.

I chose a Sociology Major and a Mathematics Minor, and apropos to that, going back to school allowed me to secure my current job, as a programmer/analyst in a market research firm. Furthermore, going back to school has given me better skills and confidence in my ability to support myself whatever may happen.

I am a strong believer that life happens the way it’s supposed to, I might go mad otherwise, but I can’t help but wonder if I would’ve had an easier time of it if I was able to finish college the first time around. My husband would disagree, he thinks that 18 is too young for someone to go to college. I think it’s somewhere in the middle: 18 is too young for some and just right for others. [And there are real logistical/financial aid-ish reasons to attend college at 18, some colleges only admit and/or give assistance to traditionally-aged students, but that’s beside my point.]

If you are older than the average student and have a strong desire to go back to school for whatever reason, I totally recommend it.

Filed Under: education, TheBlag ·

Nov 15, 2011

The Blue House on the Hill

By Lanna Lee · 1 Comment

Another piece from my writing class. We were to pick a place and write about it. I chose to write about the house I lived in grade school, before we moved over the laundromat. We called it the blue house on the hill, or that is how I remembered it, anyway.

The blue house on the hill before it was painted blue…

The house was painted a bright blue. The left side of our house on the hill had a bowl-like lawn, green and lush, bordered by Blanchard road on one side, and a forest on the other sides. The trees were close together and dark, and if I walked into the woods from the back of the house, I could walk all the way to the shore of Lake Hebron. But I never did, I was too young to do that when we lived on Tenney Hill.

I was old enough to walk into town. I’d walk or ride my bike; sometimes I’d stop at the butcher shop on my way back and buy a small package of cream cheese, just for me.

In the side lawn there was a car. I don’t remember how long or why it was there, but I do remember that we were told not to play near it.

One day Betty-Jean, who was my best cousin, and Brian, who lived across the street, and I played Barbie around the abandoned car. Our Barbie Dolls and Steve Austin dolls were the heroes; my brother’s G.I. Joe dolls were the bad guys. (The Steve Austin doll was the action figure for the Six-Million-Dollar Man, a popular television show, I had one, and so did Betty-Jean.) My mother yelled at us to get away from the car, and in the rush my Steve Austin doll, in spite of his bionic legs and arm, got caught in the door; his foot fell off. I smuggled him into the house and wrapped his leg with white medical tape. From then on, Steve limped along, always getting caught up in some adventure before he can get his bionic leg fixed by Oscar Goldman.

Betty Jean and Me on December 27, 1977

Recently I asked my mother about the car. She didn’t remember it, “that doesn’t sound like us,” she said with the unspoken implication that we were better people than that, that only trailer park trash would have a car in their yard. “But there was that well-drilling truck that was there a really long time, we had to call them to get them to take it back.” So long that when my parents painted the house bright blue (“I’ll never paint a house that color again. Too blue.”) they painted a large peace sign on its side. If this happened today, she’d paint an American flag, or something like that.

On the right side of the house was a culvert that, in the spring, had a continuous flowing water supply deep enough to host several ill-fated tadpoles. My brother Billy and I would catch the tadpoles and put them in a large white 5-gallon bucket so we could watch them turn into frogs. We’d forget them. It was like the worms I caught as a toddler. I’d put them in my sandbox and they’d dry up for lack of moisture.

The side entrance was a one-story addition that led to a den. My brother would climb out one of the second-story windows onto its roof and test the theory that cats always land on their feet. To the right of the den was the kitchen, which opened up to the dining room. The dining room had a door on the left to the only bathroom in the house, and two doorways on the right, one leading to the living room, the other leading to the cellar. We had a proper cellar.

It was cool, dark and dank, and it smelled musty. Shelves filled with canned goods lined the sides of the cellar stairway.

When our parents went out, we got a babysitter. Usually it was Jane. She was of medium height thin, her hair was long, black and greasy, and she wore heavy makeup. One Saturday when I was in second grade, my parents went out, and sure enough, Jane was called to sit for us. Hungry, I got a can of peaches from the cellarway. I was wearing my nightie; my feet were bare. As I carried the can into the kitchen so I could open it, I dropped it on my toe. My toe split open. And Jane didn’t know what to do. She failed to reach my parents by phone (this was long before cell phones) so we soaked my foot in warm water and waited until they got home. I fell asleep in my chair and woke up to Dad helping me get dressed enough to go to the hospital, where I had 5 stitches. The hospital gave me awesome Styrofoam booties to wear home.

To the right of the house stood a smaller house; it was grey and boring and had a garage. A man owned it, but he didn’t live there, he only came during the summer and weekends. I’d pick dandelions on our shared front lawn, and capture daddy long-legs, tearing legs off to see what would happen.

One Christmas, when I was between 1 and 2 years old, my parents bought me a plastic piggy bank. My parents thought it was so adorable. I screamed at it; it terrified me. When I started to learn how to walk, my mother, at a loss as how to stop me from trying to climb the stairs without her knowledge, put the piggy bank on the first landing going up the stairs. I would not pass that pig.

We had a houseful of people over for Thanksgiving dinner. Once we all ate, my dad would bring out Gramp’s muzzle loader, a gun that didn’t use bullets, you had to add the buckshot and gunpowder yourself. He’d stuff the muzzle loader full of stuff, like bb’s or popcorn, and shoot it off just to see what happened. The men laughed hysterically when they saw that the popcorn actually popped on its way out.

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What place from your childhood do you remember?

Filed Under: memoir, Monson, TheBlag, writing ·

Nov 14, 2011

Edmund

By Lanna Lee · 4 Comments

A few years ago, on January 18, 2003, my life changed forever. I didn’t know my life was going to change forever, I thought I was just going on (another) date. After that weekend, I suspected things might have changed, but being a superstitious sort, I didn’t give it any notice.

On January 18, 2003, I met Edmund Charles Davis.

We met through an online dating service. Which is kind of funny because I used to work for Tele-Publishing, Inc., The Boston Phoenix’s newspaper and online dating services, looks like they are called People2People now. But we didn’t meet through People2People.com. We met through the now defunct Spring Street Networks, Edmund joined through Nerve.com and I joined through Bust Magazine’s website.

We talked on the phone a couple of times before we met in person. But you never know about someone until you meet them face-to-face, you know what I mean?

Here we are our first Thanksgiving together, hanging at J’s Oyster Bar in Portland.

Now I know Edmund is not perfect, but let me tell you, he is perfect for me and I am so glad I married him.

We didn’t have to get married. We could’ve lived together indefinitely, shared our lives without a marriage ceremony. But we’d discussed marriage, and Edmund asked me and I said yes (of course!) and so we got married. And, let me tell you, marriage with the right person has surpassed my expectations. To have a legally-sanctioned partner-in-crime has been fantastic, and I recommend it for everyone.

As you might know, I am finishing my college degree right now, as you read this! I wouldn’t have been able to do it without his help. Case in point: laundry. Normally we take turns doing laundry, we don’t have an in-house washer or dryer so we need to go to the laundromat. I’ll do it one week, and a couple of weeks later Edmund does it. When I’m stressed-out busy, Edmund does laundry several times in a row. This week it was my turn to do laundry. I usually do it on Saturday. Instead, I stayed home read books and napped all day. Sunday morning Edmund woke up early, and since he was up, he went out and did the laundry.

If I’m working on something in my office, he’ll get me a drink and feed me dinner. Most importantly, if I am writing something, he’ll read it for me and give me feedback. I might not always like what he says, but more often than not, his critique/feedback is spot on (but don’t tell him that.)

I only hope that I’ve been as supportive a partner for him as he has been for me. Going back to college and working full-time has not been easy, and he certainly gets the brunt of my frustrations and mercurial temper. Some people I know think I don’t swear or cuss. Edmund knows better.

Our wedding day.

In my personal ad I asked for a funny man. And with Edmund, I sure got one. But he’s also a kind man, a smart man, and a passionate man. And he has a generous heart. I really won the dating lottery.

My relationship with Edmund makes me a strong advocate for marriage, if that is what a couple wants. Not everyone wants or needs marriage for their relationship, but a good marriage or partnership is not to be missed. This is why I am a strong proponent for same-sex marriage. I think EVERYONE should have the opportunity to have a fantastic, loving, excellent, relationship and enjoy the legal benefits of marriage. The only way you know if it will work is to do it, to take that leap of faith. So glad I did.

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Do you have a partner-in-crime? Tell me about ’em!

Filed Under: Edmund, TheBlag ·

Nov 13, 2011

Sunday at Panera

By Lanna Lee · 1 Comment

It’s Sunday and I’m at Panera Breads in Westbrook Maine. Near the Kohls. I am usually at Panera on Sunday, even if it’s only for a couple of hours, ever since Edmund and I participated in the National Novel Writing Month in November of 2005. In the spring of 2006, I started taking college classes, so it made sense to keep going to Panera on Sunday – just to keep up with my homework. Fortunately, my writer friends still kept coming, so I’d usually have company.

I love Panera.

Panera is a great place to hang out for many reasons. I am an extrovert, this means I like being around people, even if I don’t want to talk to anyone. At Panera I can hang out all day, with free refills of coffee and/or soda, and be private in public. Sometimes it helps me to have company while I’m working on a project. And it’s nice to not have to cook – the food is pretty good, and somewhat healthy. There is free Wi-Fi, that way I can use the interwebs while I work (especially if I am working on a project for work, or research for school). The staff is nice, and for years I’ve budgeted some of my hard-earned dollars just to hang out at Panera.

There is something to be said about having writing buddies, Teresa, Liz, Kendra, Aynslie, & Ellie (among others) have been touchstones for me. It is partly due to their support I was buoyed through going this back to school process. And, once I’m totally done with school (finally), I hope to join their ranks next year as a NaNoWriMo participant again, if not I’ll remain a cheerleader for sure.

Filed Under: TheBlag ·

Nov 12, 2011

Lazy Saturday

By Lanna Lee · 1 Comment

Having a lazy Saturday. I woke up at 9:30, read my book for a while. Had some bagel and cream cheese while reading. And, while reading in bed, I fell back to sleep this afternoon. Right now, I’m reading some more.

I like to read.

I’ve always loved to read, and have always found time to read. I remember a few years ago a woman who was going to college complained to me she didn’t have time to read “fun” books. I didn’t understand what she meant. Not until I went back to college in 2006 – and this time I actually went to class and did my homework. Along with working full time, this did not much leave time for “fun” reading, although I managed to read some fun stuff, I’d feel somehow guilty for reading instead of doing my homework.

So here I am, reading instead of doing my homework. [Well, now I am writing, but you wouldn’t be such a stickler. Would you?]

What do I like to read? [You didn’t ask, did you? But I guess I’m going to tell you.]

Romance Novels – Julia Quinn, Jane Feather, Mary Balough, Jennifer Crusie (among others)
Uncanny/Horror – Stephen King & Dean Koontz, plus all the gothic stuff
Mystery/Thriller – big fan of Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child
Fantasy and Science Fiction – Robert Heinlein, John Scalzi, J. R. R. Tolkien and many, many others

But lately, and I think it’s due to senioritis, almost-being-done-with-school but not quite, and such, but I can only seem to read romance novels – any thing else is too freaking depressing. Which is sad because just this week, Stephen King came out with a new book [11/22/63: A Novel]. And am I reading it? Nope. Today I am reading “Romancing Mister Bridgerton” by Julia Quinn. Will she get the guy? She better.

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What do you like to read?

Filed Under: TheBlag ·

Nov 11, 2011

Breaking news: I am 85% addicted to Twitter

By Lanna Lee · Leave a Comment

Created by Oatmeal

That’s awesome, isn’t it?

To celebrate, why won’t you follow me?

Follow @lannalee

Filed Under: TheBlag ·

Nov 11, 2011

Happy Veteran’s Day

By Lanna Lee · Leave a Comment

Happy Veteran’s Day to my dad, Walter Maheux. He was in the army in the 1960s, and although he can tell you down to the hour/minute how long he was in the army, he says it was one of the best things he’s done in his life.

Looks like a bad ass.

With a mischievous grin.

And here he is with my Mom.

Happy Veteran’s Day to my Dad and to all the fine men and women who’ve served their country. Thank you.

Filed Under: TheBlag ·

Nov 10, 2011

Lenny vs. Squiggy

By Lanna Lee · 4 Comments

This is Squiggy and Lenny shortly after they arrived at casa Quinn. They are much bigger now.

Here is how you can tell Lenny and Squiggy apart.

First we will start with the obvious: Lenny (left) has white and gray fur, Squiggy (right) has white and black fur. Lenny is a little bigger than Squiggy. And Squiggy’s nose has no white fur, he has an adorable black spot covering his whole nose, while the tip of Lenny’s nose is white.

And there’s more.

Lenny likes to jump into things:

Squiggy is more inquisitive:

And jumps on the back of my office chair whenever I print something:

Lenny has musical aspirations:

Squiggy is more of a scholar:

Lenny loves to sleep in:

So does Squiggy:

And they are like peas and carrots:

Snuggle bunnies:

The love Edmund more than me:

Seriously:

And I am so glad they agreed to come live with us.

Filed Under: Lenny & Squiggy, TheBlag ·

Nov 9, 2011

Early Morning Frost

By Lanna Lee · 1 Comment

I am not a morning person. Ask anyone who has lived with me. Anyone. In college I was notorious for my lack of morning grace. I was unaware of this, of course. Until the night I pulled an all-nighter. The next morning I walked around my dorm saying Hi to everyone, and their surprise was palpable “We usually don’t talk to you until after noon.” Because then was when I was nice.

I also don’t eat first thing in the morning. I can’t. Instead I wait until I get to work, where I usually have a fiber bar. Or some toast. But I need to be awake a bit first.

When I leave for work, I am still a bit bleary-eyed. And grumpy. It should not surprise you all to know that I fail a planning ahead in the morning, so I am going to share with you a piece of awesome that has made many a morning for me: My automatic car starter. As long as I remember to use it.

But when I do remember to use it… awesome.

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Do you have a gadget/gizmo that makes your life just a little bit easier?

Filed Under: TheBlag ·

Nov 8, 2011

Freewrite: The Green Boat House

By Lanna Lee · Leave a Comment

Another prompt from our writing class. This one is a Freewrite. It was supposed to be an observation, but I read the instructions wrong.

In a freewrite, you write whatever the prompt led you to. This time the prompt was “Pathways”

The path to the Green Boat House is behind my house. I can see my schoolmates walk by with their towels rolled and tucked under their arms or draped over their backs as they trudge over. We live above the Laundromat, which is on the shore of Lake Hebron, in a little inlet. The downtown of Monson was built around this inlet. Also behind our house is the town dock, where people put their boats in the water during the summertime.

We didn’t swim in this inlet because the town sewer dumped right into it. In the canal next to the post office, we could see floating poop making its way into the lake. Instead we went to the town beach, which was located a couple of miles from the town center. Or we went to the boat house, which was just outside the inlet.

We weren’t really supposed to go to the Green Boat House. It’s on private property. If you walk past the town dock along the shore of the lake, there is a path through the trees that leads around the left side of the inlet, right to a not-so-secret beach. I don’t go too often myself, it doesn’t feel right. I never go by myself.

Tree roots reach across the worn path. Beer cans litter the small forest, some with the old-fashioned pull tabs, debris from another era. It’s cooler in the trees, a relief from the hot sun. If I didn’t know just how short this path really was, I could almost picture getting lost, or walking forever. But soon, as I follow the circular trail, I see more and more blue. The large part of the lake is opening up, and the crystal clear water beckons.

Suddenly, I’m there. To the left is a lush green lawn that reaches all the way to Route 15 (and freedom). To the right is a sandy beach leading to a private swimming oasis. Straight ahead, a dilapidated boat house.

Betty-Jean is already there. So is Penny Erickson. They are shucking their shorts and shirts and jumping into the water. I’m a little slower. But soon we are all standing thigh-high in the water. Shivering. “Okay,” says Betty-Jean, “on three. One. Two. Three.” She and Penny jump in. Penny holds her nose.

I stand there. I wasn’t ready. I psyche myself up to jump in. Suddenly my brother Bill comes running around the corner. He throws off his shoes, and takes off his shirt, and starts plowing into the water. “Brat,” he says. His arms start moving across the water threateningly.

“Billy, don’t” I say.

Bill laughs.

I take a deep breath and plunge into the icy water, doing a couple of summersaults as I go. I arch my back, and float.

———–
What comes to mind when you think “Pathways”?

Filed Under: Freewrite, memoir, TheBlag, writing ·

Nov 7, 2011

What’s wrong with being bored?

By Lanna Lee · 3 Comments

Sunday I walked by a car, it was an older car, with two Disney dvd players attached to the back of the front seats with wires all akimbo. I supposed that they take a lot of long car trips and the parents don’t want the kids to get bored. And I wonder: what’s wrong with being bored?

Now, I really don’t want to single out these people, I just use their car as an example. I find this sentiment pervasive: it seems that we all have a pathological need to avoid being bored. I am guilty of it myself, not only do I always carry my smartphone with me, in my purse I have a Moleskine notebook and my Kindle. In the time before Kindles and computer phones, I always had a book with me, in fact, I felt naked without one.

When I was a kid my brother and I were NEVER bored. We learned fast that there was always something to do. If we complained to our parents that we were bored we were promptly assigned some chore: stacking wood, doing dishes, cleaning our room. Bill and I were fast learners, that’s for sure. We learned how to amuse ourselves.

When we went on long car trips we slept, read books, and teased each other. I guess we could be “bored” then, no wood to stack on Interstate 95, after all. We talked to each other. Looked out the windows. Car DVD players seem almost too decadent.

We live in a different time now, gadgets are easier and cheaper to make, and our consumerist society is geared toward making us want these fantastic gizmos. But do kids need all these conveniences?

I guess what troubles me most is the idea that kids must be entertained every second. I am not a parent, so I don’t know how pervasive this idea is, but it seems to me that kids should be able to figure out how to cure their own boredom.

——–
What do you think?

Filed Under: TheBlag ·

Nov 6, 2011

Likely Suspects

By Lanna Lee · 4 Comments

On October 23, 2010, we picked Lenny and Squiggy up from the Animal Refuge League of Greater Portland.

It was 2 weeks after Hunter passed. At one point, we were planning on getting a friend for Hunter, so this time our intention was to get two kittens. In any case, we needed 2 kitties to fill the void.

Edmund was working, but he arranged to take a longer lunch and meet me at the shelter. I went first to reconnoiter. Obviously, this was a decision we needed to make together. I walked all around the shelter, checking out the kitties. There were some tiny kittens right up front. There were a bunch of older cats. But right away it was Lenny and “Ted” who caught my eye.

As I waited for Edmund to arrive, I hovered near Lenny and “Ted”‘s cage. No one seemed interested in them, which was fine with me. But Edmund needed to agree. It was offered to me to be able to hold a cat or two, but I waited for Edmund. I didn’t want to fall in love with a kitty before he got there. When Edmund came in, he zeroed right in on Lenny and “Ted”‘s cage too.

When we held them we knew they were the ones for us. Lenny’s signature purr was in full force that day. Then Edmund looked at me and said, “We should call them Lenny & Squiggy.” The funny thing, earlier I had thought the same thing. Kismet.

So we brought them home.

When we brought them home, we locked them in my office st first. This way they wouldn’t be frightened by the new apartment. The plan was to let them acclimate for a couple of days before we brought them into the rest of the house. Later that afternoon, I opened the door and Squiggy barreled right out of the room and explored the apartment, with Lenny shadowing behind him.

They fit right in with us.

And although they get along extremely well, every now and again they have an awesome cat fight!

——–
Are you a pet owner? Or are you owned by any pets? How did your furry friends come into your life?

Filed Under: Lenny & Squiggy, TheBlag ·

Nov 5, 2011

Observation: Lunch Time

By Lanna Lee · Leave a Comment

Another observation from my memoir class. This time the assignment we were to observe a child.

Her hair is very curly, and blondish. She is eating soup while precariously perched on a rectangular stool at the Café. She squirms, her pink sparkly shoes flashing. She lays down on the stool and stares at the floor. Her shirt has hearts inside hearts and is an explosion of reds, pinks, turquoise and pale yellow. Her turquoise shorts match. She kneels on the stool.

A woman is with her, she spoons some soup into the girl’s mouth. The girl makes a face and squirms some more. The woman is pregnant. I wonder if she is the mother, or a nanny.

The girl looks at me. I smile and make a face.

A man walks into the Café. He seems to know the girl. He notices the girl has a soup mustache. He mentions it to the girl and asks her, “you didn’t shave this morning?” She giggles.

She smiles at me. I smile back.

She sits sideways on the stool, her legs curled underneath, facing the front counter. Her hands are full of rippled potato chips. She shoves them into her mouth one-by-one. The lunch crowd has arrived. She looks at the people placing orders at the counter. She finishes the chips and lays down on the bench, starting at the floor.

——–
What is your favorite thing about kids?

Filed Under: memoir, Observation, TheBlag, writing ·

Nov 4, 2011

Observation: Powder Blue

By Lanna Lee · Leave a Comment

Here’s another observation exercise. This time it our assignment was to observe the inside of someone else’s car. I chose my friend (and co-worker) Donna’s car. I didn’t tell her before I did it. But, in case I got caught looking into a strange car, I figured it would be easier to explain to a friend than a stranger.

Standing next to Donna’s car. At a picnic table by the door, some other co-workers are eating, don’t think they can see me. Typing one-handed on my AlphaSmart 3000, it’s hard to type capital letters. Can hear clunking and back-up beeping from the Route 1 bridge construction. The sun is warm on the back of my head. There is a slight breeze that makes my hair blow in my face.

Donna’s car is powder blue. A Chevy. SUV something or other. I don’t know about cars. The back windows are tinted, I can’t see anything but the outline of two seats. I am distracted by the sound of the waterfall and the chirping of one persistent bird who wants to be heard over the cacophony of construction noises.

Donna backs her car in. Oh she has a trailblazer. Sometimes I have to think about what kind of car I have (a Dodge Grand Caravan) when asked I’ve been known to tell people the name of my favorite car (Ford Crown Vic).

My hand hurts. I wonder if I’ve written enough already.

Her front seats are spotless. No dirt on the floor, I’d assume she just cleaned her car, but I’ve seen her cube. It’s immaculate. On her antenna is a Mickey mouse-eared bobble, on her last car, a mini-van, which was not a Grand Caravan but I can’t remember what it was, she had a Tigger. I miss Tigger.

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What is in your car?

Filed Under: memoir, Observation, TheBlag, writing ·

Nov 3, 2011

Amazon Kindle Free Lending

By Lanna Lee · 1 Comment

Lookee here, I’m blogging about something other than myself. Kinda. I was going to post something on Google+ about it, but then I realized that, hey, this would make a great blog post. So here goes:

Today Amazon announced that all Amazon Prime members would be able to borrow a book for free each month. FREE! What is this crazy-talk?

As Engaget Says:

Amazon’s home page has a new message for Prime members from CEO Jeff Bezos, indicating that their membership plan has a new bonus: free books. The Kindle Owners Lending Library service offers up to one book per month from a selection of thousands of titles, including “over 100 current and former New York Times Bestsellers” with no due dates. That’s in addition to the free two-day shipping and access to TV shows and movies offered through Prime Instant Video as a part of the $79/year package.

Read rest of article and Amazon Press release here.

If you know me, you might know that not only do I have a Kindle, I have a close personal relationship with my Kindle. I sleep with it. I bring it everywhere. Everywhere. I have a dedicated charger at work and one in my to-go bag, just in case. So what do I think about this free book thing?

Meh. That is what I think. Everyone talks about how this is going to hurt libraries and publishers and I say Pshaw! First of all, one book a month?! I read more than one book a month; that’s with going to school full time and working part time. When I’m not going to school I can read over 4 books in a week. So one book a month is not that thrilling to me.

And Amazon Prime. Well, here is the thing, I love Amazon Prime. I use it at least once a month; for instance, we buy our wet cat food online. You can’t beat free two-day shipping. But really, that’s the only perk I get from Amazon Prime. Why? Because my in-laws are fantastic people and put us on their Prime account. The way Prime works is that the primary Prime member gets the perks: free streaming and now I suspect the same will be true for the free book per month. And that’s ok. I think that what Amazon is doing is making Prime attractive enough so that someone like me (who is currently being subsidized on Amazon Prime) would pony up the dough for my own account.

Does the idea of a free book a month make me want to pay for my own Amazon Prime account? Not necessarily. But the idea of free streaming onto my brand new Kindle Fire (hint hint), now that has possibilities.

My Kindle is like a pet, if I don’t feed it, it will sulk.

——–
Do you have a Kindle? Another e-reader? What do you think about “renting” e-books?

Filed Under: Kindle, Tech, TheBlag ·

Archives for November 2011

Back to School

The Blue House on the Hill

Edmund

Sunday at Panera

Lazy Saturday

Breaking news: I am 85% addicted to Twitter

Happy Veteran’s Day

Lenny vs. Squiggy

Early Morning Frost

Freewrite: The Green Boat House

What’s wrong with being bored?

Likely Suspects

Observation: Lunch Time

Observation: Powder Blue

Amazon Kindle Free Lending

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