i have been feeling vaguely guilty for blogging in complete despair and then vanishing for weeks & weeks, leaving you with only a bin laden tape and a kiddie poncho to keep you company. (well, who'm I kidding, with such long breaks in between writing, i'll be extra-super-duper lucky if i have any "you" left to address! :-) )
i wrote on Loopy's blog about our trip to Chicago, so I'll skip that here, except to say that it finished delightfully and we're now back in Madison.
meanwhile, after hitting the depths of despair in that last post on Nov. 4, I spent a few weeks getting myself together. I realized that I wasn't lonely, I was getting depressed. Getting depressed just feels lonely because I lose interest in other people and become obssessed with why other people aren't paying more attention to me, me, me and my problems. All that blah-blah-blah about social justice etc (well, those are my visions and commitments, but) is just rationalization for why I was sinking down, down....
Well, I'm determined NEVER EVER to go back down that road, so...
I went to five different kinds of shrink and an accupuncturist, and now 23 days later, I have two relaxation tapes that I listen to, a weird little tapping routine to reduce anxiety; I'm on a new anti-anxiety medication; I have a backup plan (and a backup backup plan) regarding all the thigns I have to do to become a teacher; and things have really turned around. I feel really happy and actually finish up each day at school thinking, "wow, that was fun; I can't wait to try it again tomorrow!" even though I'm still screwing up constantly.
So that's the update. Gotta run now, I'm keeping Loopy waiting, but just wanted to say that things are better.
xoxo
V
Saturday, November 27, 2004
Thursday, November 04, 2004
two utterly unrelated things...
This is the poncho Loopy is knitting for our little girl cousins. She is also knitting sweaters for our little boy cousins (there are three of each sex, six in all). Isn't it adorable?
Did you actually read what bin Laden's latest videotape said? It's worth looking at.
Here's a transcript (partial one anyway), and here are Rahul Mahajan's comments thereon... (I don't agree 100% with Mahajan's interpretation of some of it, but I'm more likely to be wrong than he is, I guess...)
It's just interesting.
a hill of beans (in this crazy world)
lately I have felt really lonely.
I'm lucky and grateful to have friends a lovely Loopy wife who love me. But what I wish for, just at this moment, which there's really nothing to be done about and maybe it doesn't exist, is someone who is engaged in the same work as I am, who's chewing on the same questions or even similar... I feel like most people I talk with, either are socialists but not public-school-teachers, or teachers but not socialists, or else they are both but are so far advanced that they just look on my struggles and confusion with tolerance and indulgence.
I realize that it is no small thing for my friends to listen; that their indulgence and kind-hearted tolerance of my babbling is a very great gift of the heart, and that sometimes they really are interested, and I don't mean to minimize or disrespect any of this. I do feel loved and I feel that my friends and family wish me well. But I am so lonely!
I am lonely for exchange of ideas, for the process of figuring things out together, where I pass on what I've learned this week and then hear from that person what they're figuring out this week, where shared "war stories" and pondering help us both grow and develop. I tried to start a radical teachers' group but whaddya know, everyone who's both a radical and a teacher is very very busy (many are also parents).
I think there are other things making me cry a lot this week: the election of course, and both my parents seem to be deteriorating more than usual (or rather picking up speed in their deteriorating process--Dad's had another smallish stroke and Mom's spinal cord is in trouble and she might need surgery that might be paralyzing). Today I had a big long meeting with an old friend and political comrade to try to resolve some long-standing differences but we didn't really get anywhere--I don't think he can even understand what I'm trying to say (feeling even more alone). I am supposed to start teaching nearly full-time next week, I have to have a lesson plan for tomorrow, and my old demons just will not go away--it's that "deer in the headlights" feeling--I am just crying and crying and dreading tomorrow when I don't have a lesson plan, and yet I just can't even think straight. I cut class tonight. My back hurts. I am trying to help a couple of students in particular but their behavior is getting worse and I think it's something I'm doing. Teachers are mean and students are broken-hearted--yesterday I witnessed meanness that could hardly have been worse if there had been physical abuse involved. I'm letting someone down whom I promised to help with something. The worse it gets the more socially awkward and weird I get, and people look at me with that look, which just increases the loneliness.
I don't think I'm depressed yet but I am worried about going that way. Right now I feel pretty sad but it's not continuous. Just today has been bad. I wonder if I should go back on my anti-depressants, but i wonder if they hide something that I need to figure out.
A favorite book reminds me that no one else can give me what I need, that what I need is unconditional acceptance, that only I can give it to myself, and I just have to start right now.
I just wish it were possible for someone else to help.
I also wish I had my freakin' lesson plan done for tomorrow, but now I've worked myself up into such a state, not to mention wasted two hours and given myself a splitting headache, that I should probably just go to bed. I can't stop crying. Now I'm angry with myself for wasting all this time, but I'm not supposed to be angry with myself, I'm supposed to be giving myself unconditional acceptance; how the heck do I expect to feel better if I can't be nicer to myself? Maybe I subconsciously wanted to cry for two hours instead of doing the lesson plan, boy that would be insane. It's the hamster wheel in my head... Am I incompetent, crazy or just self-sabotaging? The choices are all so attractive.
Sorry for going on and on. But that's the beauty of a blog. You don't have to read it or respond to it. So I can go on and on, and on, without feeling that I'm imposing on anyone.
maybe I'm getting a cold or something. drinking and staying up til 3 am on Tuesday (election day, remember?) sure didn't help. note to self... no more drinking and staying up til 3 am on a school night. Right, got it.
I'm lucky and grateful to have friends a lovely Loopy wife who love me. But what I wish for, just at this moment, which there's really nothing to be done about and maybe it doesn't exist, is someone who is engaged in the same work as I am, who's chewing on the same questions or even similar... I feel like most people I talk with, either are socialists but not public-school-teachers, or teachers but not socialists, or else they are both but are so far advanced that they just look on my struggles and confusion with tolerance and indulgence.
I realize that it is no small thing for my friends to listen; that their indulgence and kind-hearted tolerance of my babbling is a very great gift of the heart, and that sometimes they really are interested, and I don't mean to minimize or disrespect any of this. I do feel loved and I feel that my friends and family wish me well. But I am so lonely!
I am lonely for exchange of ideas, for the process of figuring things out together, where I pass on what I've learned this week and then hear from that person what they're figuring out this week, where shared "war stories" and pondering help us both grow and develop. I tried to start a radical teachers' group but whaddya know, everyone who's both a radical and a teacher is very very busy (many are also parents).
I think there are other things making me cry a lot this week: the election of course, and both my parents seem to be deteriorating more than usual (or rather picking up speed in their deteriorating process--Dad's had another smallish stroke and Mom's spinal cord is in trouble and she might need surgery that might be paralyzing). Today I had a big long meeting with an old friend and political comrade to try to resolve some long-standing differences but we didn't really get anywhere--I don't think he can even understand what I'm trying to say (feeling even more alone). I am supposed to start teaching nearly full-time next week, I have to have a lesson plan for tomorrow, and my old demons just will not go away--it's that "deer in the headlights" feeling--I am just crying and crying and dreading tomorrow when I don't have a lesson plan, and yet I just can't even think straight. I cut class tonight. My back hurts. I am trying to help a couple of students in particular but their behavior is getting worse and I think it's something I'm doing. Teachers are mean and students are broken-hearted--yesterday I witnessed meanness that could hardly have been worse if there had been physical abuse involved. I'm letting someone down whom I promised to help with something. The worse it gets the more socially awkward and weird I get, and people look at me with that look, which just increases the loneliness.
I don't think I'm depressed yet but I am worried about going that way. Right now I feel pretty sad but it's not continuous. Just today has been bad. I wonder if I should go back on my anti-depressants, but i wonder if they hide something that I need to figure out.
A favorite book reminds me that no one else can give me what I need, that what I need is unconditional acceptance, that only I can give it to myself, and I just have to start right now.
I just wish it were possible for someone else to help.
I also wish I had my freakin' lesson plan done for tomorrow, but now I've worked myself up into such a state, not to mention wasted two hours and given myself a splitting headache, that I should probably just go to bed. I can't stop crying. Now I'm angry with myself for wasting all this time, but I'm not supposed to be angry with myself, I'm supposed to be giving myself unconditional acceptance; how the heck do I expect to feel better if I can't be nicer to myself? Maybe I subconsciously wanted to cry for two hours instead of doing the lesson plan, boy that would be insane. It's the hamster wheel in my head... Am I incompetent, crazy or just self-sabotaging? The choices are all so attractive.
Sorry for going on and on. But that's the beauty of a blog. You don't have to read it or respond to it. So I can go on and on, and on, without feeling that I'm imposing on anyone.
maybe I'm getting a cold or something. drinking and staying up til 3 am on Tuesday (election day, remember?) sure didn't help. note to self... no more drinking and staying up til 3 am on a school night. Right, got it.
from an unlikely source
thomas friedman is an idiot whom I loathe. but he has some good quotes in his latest piece...he talks about how he just woke up to the fact (as did I and a lot of other people) that it's not actually true that people across the U.S. "share the same core values" (Barack Obama's words on election night, which made me cry because that's when I realized we don't). A few days before election, someone explained to me for the first time (well, via the radio) that there is a sizeable group of people who do not feel that the Bill of Rights is our finest and most fundamental document--rather, they feel it's a terrible mistake, that the Puritans had the right idea and that veering away from theocracy was where the U.S. went wrong.
So Friedman writes, "We don't just disagree on what America should be doing; we disagree on what America is," and, "people were not voting on his performance. It seemed as if they were voting for what team they were on.This was not an election. This was station identification."
And best of all, "I felt as if I registered to vote, but when I showed up the Constitutional Convention broke out."
Of course, he loses me completely in his last paragraph where he talks about how Bush will prove his greatness only if he can handle "our entitlements crisis...., upgrade America's competitiveness, [and] prevent Iran from going nuclear." (The only person I've recently heard point out that Iran, like anyone else, has the right to defend itself, is, of all people, a survivor of the Iranian hostage crisis, which began 25 years ago today.) Oh, and additional @#$*&#$ to Joe Klein for saying we should overturn Roe v Wade. Jesus h christ. Yeah, exactly.
So Friedman writes, "We don't just disagree on what America should be doing; we disagree on what America is," and, "people were not voting on his performance. It seemed as if they were voting for what team they were on.This was not an election. This was station identification."
And best of all, "I felt as if I registered to vote, but when I showed up the Constitutional Convention broke out."
Of course, he loses me completely in his last paragraph where he talks about how Bush will prove his greatness only if he can handle "our entitlements crisis...., upgrade America's competitiveness, [and] prevent Iran from going nuclear." (The only person I've recently heard point out that Iran, like anyone else, has the right to defend itself, is, of all people, a survivor of the Iranian hostage crisis, which began 25 years ago today.) Oh, and additional @#$*&#$ to Joe Klein for saying we should overturn Roe v Wade. Jesus h christ. Yeah, exactly.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
the vision thing...
as Loopy reminds us, don't mourn, organize!
subjugation and oppression always eventually produce resistance, and empires always fall.
historically speaking, when things get worse economically, people either turn on each other in a frenzy of blame or they join together to create transformation. Which will it be?
bin Laden, Buchanan and David Duke are all early harbingers of this storm. It's up to us to create a genuinely compelling alternative vision, to counteract the hatred and fanaticism that is growing the more people suffer.
We can still be excited about the unusually large groundswell of participation. even if it's still not as large or as radical as we'd like, maybe it's the beginning of a beginning.
We can do it! -- Si se puede!!!!
subjugation and oppression always eventually produce resistance, and empires always fall.
historically speaking, when things get worse economically, people either turn on each other in a frenzy of blame or they join together to create transformation. Which will it be?
bin Laden, Buchanan and David Duke are all early harbingers of this storm. It's up to us to create a genuinely compelling alternative vision, to counteract the hatred and fanaticism that is growing the more people suffer.
We can still be excited about the unusually large groundswell of participation. even if it's still not as large or as radical as we'd like, maybe it's the beginning of a beginning.
We can do it! -- Si se puede!!!!
screaming meanies....
I hear you CP (aka xe).....I pretty much figured Bush would win the whole time (although the last few days I made the mistake of getting my hopes up a bit). but I figured it would be because people were massively deluded about Iraq, terrorism, etc.
What really has me bummed out today is that Bush apparently won not just on the strength of his sleight-of-hand, but on a wave of sheer meanness. I said something to Mom (in AZ)(an all-red, all-the-time kind of place) about anti-gay sentiment propelling him to victory and she didn't even try to deny it, which is unusual for her--usually she's all about denial of anything uncomfortable.
I've watched teachers be very mean to students today too. Sometimes it really rips me up. It's been a very mean day all round. Depressing.
What really has me bummed out today is that Bush apparently won not just on the strength of his sleight-of-hand, but on a wave of sheer meanness. I said something to Mom (in AZ)(an all-red, all-the-time kind of place) about anti-gay sentiment propelling him to victory and she didn't even try to deny it, which is unusual for her--usually she's all about denial of anything uncomfortable.
random thought: I wonder if future generations will construe "red" to mean "republican"? That will play havoc with their understanding of various twentieth-centurty texts and pheomena. "Better red than dead"?
I've watched teachers be very mean to students today too. Sometimes it really rips me up. It's been a very mean day all round. Depressing.
as they say in Japan, it's erection day (want some wood?)
OK, scuse the stupid pun, if it can even be called that. It's almost 2 a.m., okay? Give me a break.
From my favorite famous political blog, "Empire Notes":
Thanks much to faboo Betsy for having an election-night party at her house. It really helped stave off the creeping misery, or rather, shouting and stomping about that probably would have accompanied the proceedings otherwise. It was relatively fun to mill about with all our "old socialist" friends, eating scrumptious desserts and drinking a lot more than we should on a "school night".
Even "the usual suspect" repeating the same joke over and over ("are the capitalist imperialists still winning?") was strangely comforting. Although he got unnecessarily pissed off when I told a different version of one of my favorite jokes. I am providing it below, after a comment that people should all write to NBC and MSNBC to yell at them for calling Ohio early. and are the relevant addresses.
The joke:
A guy bought a parrot. The pet store owner warned hiim that this parrot really liked to swear, but the guy felt that he had a "firm hand" and he could surely bring it under control. Sure enough, he takes it home and it starts to swear like a mo****f*****. The guy sticks it in a broom closet for a few minutes, then pulls it out and asks, "Are you going to be good now?" "Are you kidding me?" screams tha parrot, "After how you've treated me, why you no-good dirty #*$&#($*&@#$^$)..." The guy puts the parrot in a foot locker to shut it up, then again pulls it out and asks, "So? Are you going to be good now?" The parrot is even more pissed off, and lets loose with an impressive string of profanity. The guy finally is at his wits' end and sticks it in the refrigerator for a few minutes, then takes it out and asks "Are you going to be good NOW?" "Yes sir, " the parrot replies meekly, and says not a single word for the rest of the day. The next day the parrot asks, "Sir, may I ask a question?" "Yes?" "What did the chicken do?"
Happy erection day.
From my favorite famous political blog, "Empire Notes":
Thought for Election Day: More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly. -- Woody Allen, Without Feathers.
Thanks much to faboo Betsy for having an election-night party at her house. It really helped stave off the creeping misery, or rather, shouting and stomping about that probably would have accompanied the proceedings otherwise. It was relatively fun to mill about with all our "old socialist" friends, eating scrumptious desserts and drinking a lot more than we should on a "school night".
Even "the usual suspect" repeating the same joke over and over ("are the capitalist imperialists still winning?") was strangely comforting. Although he got unnecessarily pissed off when I told a different version of one of my favorite jokes. I am providing it below, after a comment that people should all write to NBC and MSNBC to yell at them for calling Ohio early.
The joke:
A guy bought a parrot. The pet store owner warned hiim that this parrot really liked to swear, but the guy felt that he had a "firm hand" and he could surely bring it under control. Sure enough, he takes it home and it starts to swear like a mo****f*****. The guy sticks it in a broom closet for a few minutes, then pulls it out and asks, "Are you going to be good now?" "Are you kidding me?" screams tha parrot, "After how you've treated me, why you no-good dirty #*$&#($*&@#$^$)..." The guy puts the parrot in a foot locker to shut it up, then again pulls it out and asks, "So? Are you going to be good now?" The parrot is even more pissed off, and lets loose with an impressive string of profanity. The guy finally is at his wits' end and sticks it in the refrigerator for a few minutes, then takes it out and asks "Are you going to be good NOW?" "Yes sir, " the parrot replies meekly, and says not a single word for the rest of the day. The next day the parrot asks, "Sir, may I ask a question?" "Yes?" "What did the chicken do?"
Happy erection day.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Mom always said...hey, whatever happened to Murphy Brown?
a friend asked recently what to tell her daughters, who are tormented (or at least torment their mother) with their worry that they will never find true love.
I later thought about what my Mom used to say, which was, "stop obsessing about it and get on with your life, and it'll work out when you least expect it." (Isn't that in the "Mom" script that they hand out to all of you in the delivery room? ;-) )
But really, I think it's true you find it when you're not looking--that's definitely how it worked for me ("I'm only in town for a year and I'm just getting over a bad breakup; I don't really want to be involved with anyone right now" I told Rebekah at some early stage of our interaction. Yeah, right.).
Maybe this is because people want what they can't have, but according to Mom (and my own life tends to provide supporting evidence), it could also be because seeking "true love," in itself, tends to be a whiny, self-absorbed activity that leaves one without anything interesting to say to "true love" when s/he does show up. (I mean, who would want to spend five minutes with any of those "sex in the city" chicks, anyway? or Grace from "Will and Grace," or the entire cast of "Waiting to Exhale"--or any number of the other tedious pop culture female role models whose entire inner life revolves around the "search for true love").
I know it's such trite, boring advice, but maybe the daughters need a hobby, or better yet an all-consuming passion, for something, anything outside themselves? (I don't know them at all, so maybe they're already all hobbied up, but I'll just follow this train of thought anyway....) To paraphrase my Mom, it's not only an opportunity to meet someone interesting but an opportunity to BE someone interesting. When I think about it, Rebekah and I met while volunteering; my one cousin met his wife while doing telemark skiing (some special kind of sporty skiing that I never heard of until their wedding); my other cousin met his wife while doing church activities; several friends I know met their spouses while doing political work; another friend met her husband when they were both volunteer EMTs; etc etc etc.
Come to think of it, why doesn't this ever happen on TV? I'm not the biggest TV watcher, but Sybil on "Moonlighting" is the last female character I can remember who met someone she loved while doing something she loved. Hey, what happened to Sybil and Murphy Brown and all those cool feminist heroines, anyway? If this is a real change, I'm sure I'm not the first person to notice this (maybe the gender theory folks can fill me in), but this is the first time I've thought about it. I can't think of any female TV characters who do anything seriously--what they do do, they seem to do as a sort of side show to their main focal point, which is their man or lack thereof. Well, I don't watch all the shows about cops and lawyers, so maybe there are some women on there who do things they really love, other than obsess about men?
Well, my one and only feminist heroine has just threatened to make me sleep in the other room if I don't come to bed, so that's all for now.
I later thought about what my Mom used to say, which was, "stop obsessing about it and get on with your life, and it'll work out when you least expect it." (Isn't that in the "Mom" script that they hand out to all of you in the delivery room? ;-) )
But really, I think it's true you find it when you're not looking--that's definitely how it worked for me ("I'm only in town for a year and I'm just getting over a bad breakup; I don't really want to be involved with anyone right now" I told Rebekah at some early stage of our interaction. Yeah, right.).
Maybe this is because people want what they can't have, but according to Mom (and my own life tends to provide supporting evidence), it could also be because seeking "true love," in itself, tends to be a whiny, self-absorbed activity that leaves one without anything interesting to say to "true love" when s/he does show up. (I mean, who would want to spend five minutes with any of those "sex in the city" chicks, anyway? or Grace from "Will and Grace," or the entire cast of "Waiting to Exhale"--or any number of the other tedious pop culture female role models whose entire inner life revolves around the "search for true love").
I know it's such trite, boring advice, but maybe the daughters need a hobby, or better yet an all-consuming passion, for something, anything outside themselves? (I don't know them at all, so maybe they're already all hobbied up, but I'll just follow this train of thought anyway....) To paraphrase my Mom, it's not only an opportunity to meet someone interesting but an opportunity to BE someone interesting. When I think about it, Rebekah and I met while volunteering; my one cousin met his wife while doing telemark skiing (some special kind of sporty skiing that I never heard of until their wedding); my other cousin met his wife while doing church activities; several friends I know met their spouses while doing political work; another friend met her husband when they were both volunteer EMTs; etc etc etc.
Come to think of it, why doesn't this ever happen on TV? I'm not the biggest TV watcher, but Sybil on "Moonlighting" is the last female character I can remember who met someone she loved while doing something she loved. Hey, what happened to Sybil and Murphy Brown and all those cool feminist heroines, anyway? If this is a real change, I'm sure I'm not the first person to notice this (maybe the gender theory folks can fill me in), but this is the first time I've thought about it. I can't think of any female TV characters who do anything seriously--what they do do, they seem to do as a sort of side show to their main focal point, which is their man or lack thereof. Well, I don't watch all the shows about cops and lawyers, so maybe there are some women on there who do things they really love, other than obsess about men?
Well, my one and only feminist heroine has just threatened to make me sleep in the other room if I don't come to bed, so that's all for now.
maybe i can do this after all
for those who didn't hear this story last night I just wanted to post about last Wednesday. Birdie (the teacher I work with as a student teacher) wasn't there and I basically did the whole day's schedule on my own. And everything went *great*!!!! Even though it was the last day before a four-day weekend, I kept everything on track. I told the students what I expected and they followed through! It was great.
I was so happy to find that I really have gotten stronger in some of my weakest areas from my last student teaching. For example, students used to be able to throw me off-track very easily by yelling out irrelevant but interesting questions. I didn't want to be "rude" by failing to answer the question, plus I didn't want to squash some nascent academic curiosity (they were soooo onto me!!!), so we would soon be wandering off into la-la land. But on Wednesday they caught wind of the fact that we would be watching a movie later and were all yelling questions about the movie. I just said, "I will answer math questions now, I will answer movie questions later," and went on with the lesson, and they accepted that with hardly a grumble. Just like the books say to do!!! Keeping it positive, etc. etc. It was great!
For a long time I have really been doubting myself, and I've been worried that I was going to get really depressed about it (after all, if I can't even do right what I've always wanted to do, what's the point of doing anything?)(I know, I know, that's too extreme, but that's what it feels like sometimes).
As icing on the cake, the sub, who had taught for 26 years and was apparently much beloved at the school (other teachers kept coming by to greet her and catch up), and who really had a way with the kids, was very complimentary, said that I had a good rapport with the students and that I did a good job, handled everything beautifully etc. It was great to get some positive reinforcement. Not just some, but a lot, and with great warmth and compassion. She had a lot of great ideas and suggestions too. I was so happy. This is what I really want to do--and I can really do it.
Still have to keep in mind that this doesn't mean it will always be perfect. tomorrow for example I fear I am going to choke again as in days of yore. I get so panicky about lesson plans and my head just seems to explode, I'm going every which way, and this is a lesson plan that I've had ready since June!!! But suddenly I'm second-guessing myself and thinking of fifty million other things to do to it. "Why am I doing this, this doesn't make sense, they will hate it, they will be confused and for no good reason, there is no point to this, what am I thinking, maybe I can bring in slave narratives or Hmong embroidery--" (no, it doesn't make any more sense if you know more about the original plan), "maybe I should just start with a note-taking exercise using this three-minute clip off of CNN about the presidential election...."
Keep it simple, stay focused on the goal, and just go through with it. I can do this. if not tomorrow, then, someday soon.
I was so happy to find that I really have gotten stronger in some of my weakest areas from my last student teaching. For example, students used to be able to throw me off-track very easily by yelling out irrelevant but interesting questions. I didn't want to be "rude" by failing to answer the question, plus I didn't want to squash some nascent academic curiosity (they were soooo onto me!!!), so we would soon be wandering off into la-la land. But on Wednesday they caught wind of the fact that we would be watching a movie later and were all yelling questions about the movie. I just said, "I will answer math questions now, I will answer movie questions later," and went on with the lesson, and they accepted that with hardly a grumble. Just like the books say to do!!! Keeping it positive, etc. etc. It was great!
For a long time I have really been doubting myself, and I've been worried that I was going to get really depressed about it (after all, if I can't even do right what I've always wanted to do, what's the point of doing anything?)(I know, I know, that's too extreme, but that's what it feels like sometimes).
As icing on the cake, the sub, who had taught for 26 years and was apparently much beloved at the school (other teachers kept coming by to greet her and catch up), and who really had a way with the kids, was very complimentary, said that I had a good rapport with the students and that I did a good job, handled everything beautifully etc. It was great to get some positive reinforcement. Not just some, but a lot, and with great warmth and compassion. She had a lot of great ideas and suggestions too. I was so happy. This is what I really want to do--and I can really do it.
Still have to keep in mind that this doesn't mean it will always be perfect. tomorrow for example I fear I am going to choke again as in days of yore. I get so panicky about lesson plans and my head just seems to explode, I'm going every which way, and this is a lesson plan that I've had ready since June!!! But suddenly I'm second-guessing myself and thinking of fifty million other things to do to it. "Why am I doing this, this doesn't make sense, they will hate it, they will be confused and for no good reason, there is no point to this, what am I thinking, maybe I can bring in slave narratives or Hmong embroidery--" (no, it doesn't make any more sense if you know more about the original plan), "maybe I should just start with a note-taking exercise using this three-minute clip off of CNN about the presidential election...."
Keep it simple, stay focused on the goal, and just go through with it. I can do this. if not tomorrow, then, someday soon.
Monday, October 25, 2004
alternative news sources on Iraq
I don't have time to blog lately, but here's a post I wrote on a discussion I had to do for homework. Then I thought I'd share it with the rest of y'all.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
A couple people (possibly including myself) have commented that we don't really know what's going on in Iraq.
Actually there are many alternative sources of information. (The fact that I know about them, and yet rarely read them, I guess just reveals my laziness). They have their own bias/point of view, but who doesn't?
Here are a few (a "blog" is a sort of online diary, check them out):
http://www.empirenotes.org/
Blog of Rahul Mahajan, one of the smartest people I've ever met, author of a couple of books about the US role in the post 9/11 world; he has been to Iraq several times and has enough contacts there to keep his finger on the pulse, so to speak. I would trust his "read" on the situation over just about any other.
http://dear_raed.blogspot.com/
This blog is written by an Iraqi person who has published a book and now apparently does stuff for the BBC. He publishes photos, reports, opinions etc. (Here's an excerpt, just to entice you to visit this site:
"The first time I got an email from an American soldier in Iraq I wasn’t sure how to react. These days I read a couple of US soldier blogs and a couple even send me emails every now and then. I was answering one of them from [Mr. Somewhere-in-the-north-of-Iraq] when I decided later to post it on the blog. So here it is. And on a more personal note; No [Mr. Somewhere-in-the-north-of-Iraq], it doesn’t bother me that you are 'one of the American occupiers?' because I don’t think of you as an Occupier, I know you would much rather be home and you are stuck here because someone said this is where you should be."
There are also a lot of links on this site to other sources of information.
http://www.occupationwatch.org/
Occupation Watch is a pretty comprehensive news source, although it has a strong & obvious point of view. It's run by a coalition of groups but mostly the brainchild of Medea Benjamin of Global Exchange, whose sincerity (if not necessarily brilliance) is unquestionable. Sign up for their weekly update to stay on top of things--it's very useful.
You can forget Poland, but don't forget the BBC...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/in_depth/middle_east/2002/conflict_with_iraq/default.stm
Always better coverage than CNN; as far as I can tell, this is due in part to the BBC reporters' willingness to get out of the friggin' tank once in a while and actually take a couple photos, maybe even talk to someone on the ground.
There's always Al-Jazeera in English, at
http://english.aljazeera.net/HomePage
(god, those pictures!)
Here are two sites that have not been updated in a while, but both are written by people I can vouch for, about their travels in the region:
http://www.devo.com/mideastlog/
Ben Granby, a hometwon boy from our very own Madison (note that he uses the European date notation, day-month-year, so that 05.02.04 is February 5 not May 2).
http://www.iraqjournal.org/
Blog of Jeremy Scahill, correspondant for Democracy Now! It only goes up to April 7, 2003, but has lots of great info up to then. Much of it was written from Iraq.
---------------
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
A couple people (possibly including myself) have commented that we don't really know what's going on in Iraq.
Actually there are many alternative sources of information. (The fact that I know about them, and yet rarely read them, I guess just reveals my laziness). They have their own bias/point of view, but who doesn't?
Here are a few (a "blog" is a sort of online diary, check them out):
http://www.empirenotes.org/
Blog of Rahul Mahajan, one of the smartest people I've ever met, author of a couple of books about the US role in the post 9/11 world; he has been to Iraq several times and has enough contacts there to keep his finger on the pulse, so to speak. I would trust his "read" on the situation over just about any other.
http://dear_raed.blogspot.com/
This blog is written by an Iraqi person who has published a book and now apparently does stuff for the BBC. He publishes photos, reports, opinions etc. (Here's an excerpt, just to entice you to visit this site:
"The first time I got an email from an American soldier in Iraq I wasn’t sure how to react. These days I read a couple of US soldier blogs and a couple even send me emails every now and then. I was answering one of them from [Mr. Somewhere-in-the-north-of-Iraq] when I decided later to post it on the blog. So here it is. And on a more personal note; No [Mr. Somewhere-in-the-north-of-Iraq], it doesn’t bother me that you are 'one of the American occupiers?' because I don’t think of you as an Occupier, I know you would much rather be home and you are stuck here because someone said this is where you should be."
There are also a lot of links on this site to other sources of information.
http://www.occupationwatch.org/
Occupation Watch is a pretty comprehensive news source, although it has a strong & obvious point of view. It's run by a coalition of groups but mostly the brainchild of Medea Benjamin of Global Exchange, whose sincerity (if not necessarily brilliance) is unquestionable. Sign up for their weekly update to stay on top of things--it's very useful.
You can forget Poland, but don't forget the BBC...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/in_depth/middle_east/2002/conflict_with_iraq/default.stm
Always better coverage than CNN; as far as I can tell, this is due in part to the BBC reporters' willingness to get out of the friggin' tank once in a while and actually take a couple photos, maybe even talk to someone on the ground.
There's always Al-Jazeera in English, at
http://english.aljazeera.net/HomePage
(god, those pictures!)
Here are two sites that have not been updated in a while, but both are written by people I can vouch for, about their travels in the region:
http://www.devo.com/mideastlog/
Ben Granby, a hometwon boy from our very own Madison (note that he uses the European date notation, day-month-year, so that 05.02.04 is February 5 not May 2).
http://www.iraqjournal.org/
Blog of Jeremy Scahill, correspondant for Democracy Now! It only goes up to April 7, 2003, but has lots of great info up to then. Much of it was written from Iraq.
---------------
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
they say she talks to Angel (er, Gracie)...
Overheard, from the other room, where Loopy is knitting in bed and watching the Red Sox, who are still winning (whoooo-hoooo! yeah!!!)(ok sorry)....
"No... No! Stop it!......Go lay* down!"
"No, you can't help...."
"Stop it! no!..."
"You can't help, I'm telling you...... "
"No! Lay down! No!........doggies can't knit."
"Stop!!! it!!! .........."
"Graaaaacieeeee, you need thumbs for knitting...."
"Hey! Aaaah! Aaak! Stop iiitttt!!!! Give me the yarn! You can't have all the yarn!!!"
At this point I yelled, "Do you need help in there?"
Response: "I need he-e-e-e-e-e-elp.... Gracie took all the blue yarn and now I can't find it...."
*sigh* Certifiable indeed. ;-)
*yeah yeah, we know.
"No... No! Stop it!......Go lay* down!"
"No, you can't help...."
"Stop it! no!..."
"You can't help, I'm telling you...... "
"No! Lay down! No!........doggies can't knit."
"Stop!!! it!!! .........."
"Graaaaacieeeee, you need thumbs for knitting...."
"Hey! Aaaah! Aaak! Stop iiitttt!!!! Give me the yarn! You can't have all the yarn!!!"
At this point I yelled, "Do you need help in there?"
Response: "I need he-e-e-e-e-e-elp.... Gracie took all the blue yarn and now I can't find it...."
*sigh* Certifiable indeed. ;-)
*yeah yeah, we know.
is this a good omen?
last week I talked to one of my favorite people, Syylviaaaah, aka Swylve, from college, and she had this to say:
"My fall predictions are as follows. First, the Red Sox will be creamed in the playoffs, then Kerry will be creamed in the election, then I will be creamed in my job search."
(To which I responded something highly inappropriate along the lines of, "god, wouldn't it be awesome if the Red Sox would finally make it!!!! -- er, um, I mean, not that I don't hope that Kerry--I mean, of course, I'm sure you'll be fine, I mean, I hope your job search goes well too.") (Yeah, right, some friend I am, eh!)
Anyway, although I don't have anything good to say about Kerry (his rants about getting tough on Iran are infuriating! -- and check out his website where he promises lucrative oil contracts to any European countries that will join us in Iraq--i.e., European ruling class sends their poor soldiers to mix their entrails with ours in Iraq; European ruling class gets oil profits; Iraq gets screwed some more; etc....), I have finally given in to the pervasive hysteria and decided to actually hope he'll win. Art Spiegelman's portrayal of third-party voters as ostriches, and Michael Moore's comment, "so you'll vote third party and then you'll feel so pure, so good, for about five minutes. Didn't your parents tell you in high school--five minutes of feeling good can have lifelong consequences????" have both had an impact. But inasmuch as the election can be considered a referendum on Bush, I do want to see Bush go down, and indicate to the rest of the world that we are paying attention at least a little bit. OK, yes, if we vote Dem we are endorsing their slide to the right; we are saying that no matter how far right they go we will still vote for them; hence we are essentially assisting in the destruction of our erstwhile two-party state (which, bad as it was, is still better than the one-party state we are becoming...)... but as all my heroes also point out, elections are essentially irrelevant to the real business of organizing and changing things...... so if they're so irrelevant, it can't hurt to vote for K. Can it?
Anyway, so after being down 3-0, the Red Sox are now in the process of winning their third game vs the Yankees. (Yes, the Mets were in this position just a couple years ago, and they still choked, but it ain't over til... well you know.) So I return to my initial question: is this a good omen?
Only time will tell.
"My fall predictions are as follows. First, the Red Sox will be creamed in the playoffs, then Kerry will be creamed in the election, then I will be creamed in my job search."
(To which I responded something highly inappropriate along the lines of, "god, wouldn't it be awesome if the Red Sox would finally make it!!!! -- er, um, I mean, not that I don't hope that Kerry--I mean, of course, I'm sure you'll be fine, I mean, I hope your job search goes well too.") (Yeah, right, some friend I am, eh!)
Anyway, although I don't have anything good to say about Kerry (his rants about getting tough on Iran are infuriating! -- and check out his website where he promises lucrative oil contracts to any European countries that will join us in Iraq--i.e., European ruling class sends their poor soldiers to mix their entrails with ours in Iraq; European ruling class gets oil profits; Iraq gets screwed some more; etc....), I have finally given in to the pervasive hysteria and decided to actually hope he'll win. Art Spiegelman's portrayal of third-party voters as ostriches, and Michael Moore's comment, "so you'll vote third party and then you'll feel so pure, so good, for about five minutes. Didn't your parents tell you in high school--five minutes of feeling good can have lifelong consequences????" have both had an impact. But inasmuch as the election can be considered a referendum on Bush, I do want to see Bush go down, and indicate to the rest of the world that we are paying attention at least a little bit. OK, yes, if we vote Dem we are endorsing their slide to the right; we are saying that no matter how far right they go we will still vote for them; hence we are essentially assisting in the destruction of our erstwhile two-party state (which, bad as it was, is still better than the one-party state we are becoming...)... but as all my heroes also point out, elections are essentially irrelevant to the real business of organizing and changing things...... so if they're so irrelevant, it can't hurt to vote for K. Can it?
Anyway, so after being down 3-0, the Red Sox are now in the process of winning their third game vs the Yankees. (Yes, the Mets were in this position just a couple years ago, and they still choked, but it ain't over til... well you know.) So I return to my initial question: is this a good omen?
Only time will tell.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
racism inservice
ok, if I didn't feel invisible enough before, I really feel invisible now. We are having a district-wide inservice about racism, where some high-paid consultant comes and talks to us on the TV (why we had to fly him to Madison so he could talk to us on TV is unclear, but anyway), and then we break into small groups and supposedly chew on the problems he poses.
What's amazing is the intractable determination of all concerned to
1) assume that children of color don't achieve because they can't
2) assume that "cultural differences" means that African-American kids are taught to hit back and be late to class
3) assume that fellow students' racial slurs are the only significant manifestation of racism at this school.
But the whole way this inservice is being conducted is... ok well dumb. They give us this article full of academic jargon blah blah blah, and it's not even a good article. It's supposedly an introduction to critical race theory. Yeah. Like that's gonna make any sense to anyone. Everyone at my table sat around and argued first about what "Othering" might mean, then about whether some kid in some example story should have gotten expelled or not. Of course they're having the same experience that non-dominant-culture children have in school (someone throws an article at you that you can't even read, then expects you to discuss it, then--if we were in the same room as Mr. TV Guy--criticizes you for getting off-topic), but they don't even realize it.
Sigh. I keep thinking about simulations to try to reproduce the experience of being in a classroom where the majority of people share a worldview and can't even conceive of how yours could be different.
On the plus side, there was no school today and we had pizza for lunch.
What's amazing is the intractable determination of all concerned to
1) assume that children of color don't achieve because they can't
2) assume that "cultural differences" means that African-American kids are taught to hit back and be late to class
3) assume that fellow students' racial slurs are the only significant manifestation of racism at this school.
But the whole way this inservice is being conducted is... ok well dumb. They give us this article full of academic jargon blah blah blah, and it's not even a good article. It's supposedly an introduction to critical race theory. Yeah. Like that's gonna make any sense to anyone. Everyone at my table sat around and argued first about what "Othering" might mean, then about whether some kid in some example story should have gotten expelled or not. Of course they're having the same experience that non-dominant-culture children have in school (someone throws an article at you that you can't even read, then expects you to discuss it, then--if we were in the same room as Mr. TV Guy--criticizes you for getting off-topic), but they don't even realize it.
Sigh. I keep thinking about simulations to try to reproduce the experience of being in a classroom where the majority of people share a worldview and can't even conceive of how yours could be different.
On the plus side, there was no school today and we had pizza for lunch.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
on a more cheerful note...
I was reading a friend's blog and wrote this response; then I thought I'd post it here too, to offset the mood of the previous post.
Here's the original post... the key portion being, "the thing about teaching for [me] is that getting better at it isn't hard work. At least not in the sense of it not being something I have to force myself to do — I want to do what I need to do to keep improving, changing, growing as a teacher. I really do do this kind of stuff for fun... I do everything I do because it makes me a better teacher — even my writing. My central thing — that which connects all my dots — is the teaching."
And here's my response...
hiya XE, I liked this post, surprised to see no comments on it. despite my gloomy post from a few minutes ago, essentially I do love teaching — it's like breathing, it's my life, and yes, it's the only thing that it's easy to work at getting better at. One reason I quit the internet biz is b/c I just couldn't be bothered to keep up. If you want to stay abreast of technological developments, you have to read all these trade journals, etc. etc. Meanwhile for teaching I'm constantly reading and thinking and assimilating. It's easy and fun and engaging. Dunno what I'd do if I lost that profound interest. Sometimes I get the feeling that nothing I do makes any difference, b/c the whole educ system is so fucked up anyway, but mostly that's a fleeting impression — I hope it never settles in!
Here's the original post... the key portion being, "the thing about teaching for [me] is that getting better at it isn't hard work. At least not in the sense of it not being something I have to force myself to do — I want to do what I need to do to keep improving, changing, growing as a teacher. I really do do this kind of stuff for fun... I do everything I do because it makes me a better teacher — even my writing. My central thing — that which connects all my dots — is the teaching."
And here's my response...
hiya XE, I liked this post, surprised to see no comments on it. despite my gloomy post from a few minutes ago, essentially I do love teaching — it's like breathing, it's my life, and yes, it's the only thing that it's easy to work at getting better at. One reason I quit the internet biz is b/c I just couldn't be bothered to keep up. If you want to stay abreast of technological developments, you have to read all these trade journals, etc. etc. Meanwhile for teaching I'm constantly reading and thinking and assimilating. It's easy and fun and engaging. Dunno what I'd do if I lost that profound interest. Sometimes I get the feeling that nothing I do makes any difference, b/c the whole educ system is so fucked up anyway, but mostly that's a fleeting impression — I hope it never settles in!
we don't need no education!
how can I teach for social justice, and how can I stay sane? Teaching sometimes feels incredibly alienating.
As you know our school system is based on the model created by the proto-Nazi Prussians, whose goal was complete obedience among the populace and whose techniques were based on animal training. Clearly, they knew what they were doing when they stuck thirty children in a room with one adult. The only possible mode of interaction is one of control. And not only is the teacher alienated from the students, and the students from the each other, but the teacher becomes alienated from other adults. Alone. It's incredibly lonely. Give, give give, never say what you think, always respond with kindness and smiles. I am happy to give, I enjoy it, but at times it becomes a sort of prison, in which my own facade is the enclosure; inside of these walls I exist, separate, mute, unobserved but observant, thinking. This brings on a pounding headache every day around lunchtime, and, by the weekend, repeated tears and a need for silence and space. I have to find a way to get through the days and weeks without headache, without tears. Does it require developing the thick skin that so many teachers seem to have--an armor that wavers on the borderline of not giving a shit and hating the students? Or is there a way to just relax more, go with the flow, not worry so much? Maybe I should really seriously take up meditating or something. Hah, in my copious spare time, yeah right!
Some of this will improve when I have my own classroom. A big part of the headache comes from biting my tongue too much. I try to learn all I can from my cooperating teacher, but her whole philosophy and approach are different from mine, and sometimes I find this very upsetting. Also sometimes she says ridiculous things (about the world, about history) that hasten the onset of the headache. I definitely feel like Loopy in her recent post, assailing a near-impregnable fortress of hegemonic discourse, feeling despair at my failure because, indeed, it is this implacable mindset that produces everything from internalized racism to global nuclear holocaust.
All this makes me into rather poor company for others these days. Brooding. A bit of a drag. I try not to bring people down, so I don't say anything; then once I start talking the words pour out, I feel desperate. I have trouble modulating my emotions--my would-be funny stories come out angry and bitter. I'm out of step with others, I don't go with the flow. All of which just serves to make me feel even more alone. I'm sure this is just a feeling. But it is a painful one.
On top of all this, on Tuesday we have another inservice about racism. After the last one, all hell broke loose. I learned that there are many people in the world whose views on racism I'd rather not hear.
Welllllllll... I tried not to be gloomy and brooding in this post, but it looks like I didn't succeed! I hope Loopy comes home soon. I shoulda gone with them to the zombie movie. I should go to bed but I wanted to vacuum... surprise Loopy when she gets home.
Monday, September 13, 2004
the cookout
Ang posted how much she hated this movie (and Loopy hated it too), but I thought it was funny. A bit amateurish on the few serious notes, but I laughed quite a bit.
I thought the stereotypes were supposed to be stereotypes of stereotypes, a sort of pomo self-referential kind of thing (not that I know what pomo is really). In other words, I didn't see it as a pathetic attempt to copy "happy ethnic family" flicks, but rather a snickering send-up of those types of films. Like Mike Myers's Scottish family in "I Married An Axe-Murderer"--another mildly entertaining satire of "happy ethnic family" truisms--i.e., I don't think Myers thinks real Scottish families are all THAT excited about haggis, and I didn't think that the makers of "The Cookout" really think that "country Black folks" would show up barefoot and drag a dead deer through the house.
In other other words, as I saw it, they're making fun of films that take their stereotypes just a bit too seriously, like, probably, "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," which I never saw, or "Torchsong Trilogy" or "Moonstruck," which I did see. Where Ang lists the offensive stereotypes, I could just imagine producers sitting around saying, "what other ridiculous stereotypes can we lampoon here? Oh I know, what about country hicks--yeah--we can have 'em drag a dead deer through the house!" I mean, I think a stereotype is offensive when it's meant to be mocking the people it's referring to, but I thought these stereotypes were mocking stupid Hollywood "ethnic family" movies.
So in other words I wasn't offended. And while I did cringe when Danny Glover asserted his "manhood," I thought he had some of the best moments of the film while he was playing the uptight prick...("What? Negroes? In this neighborhood??") In fact, some of the moments that rang most true to me were his and Queen Latifah's mocking of the "middle-class Blacks get tough on the city youth" routine, which I have definitely seen! "Stand back whitey, I know how to handle these kids! You gotta be tough on 'em! Don't give 'em an inch!" In fact, it even made me feel a bit better about not wanting to buy into that routine.
I also laughed at the conspiracy theorist, and appreciated the moment when the skanky girlfriend tries to act more "Black" to keep her boyfriend from breaking up with her--reminded me of white teachers who try too hard to "get down with" their students of color.
I don't mean to make an argument out of this at all, cuz it's not like it was a great movie, and I probably wouldn't exactly recommend it. But, since everyone I saw it with totally totally hated it, I just felt like piping up with my two cents. I'm probably missing something important, and maybe the fact I enjoyed it just means I'm dumber than the movie--but who cares--I had fun, that's all I really wanted to say.
I thought the stereotypes were supposed to be stereotypes of stereotypes, a sort of pomo self-referential kind of thing (not that I know what pomo is really). In other words, I didn't see it as a pathetic attempt to copy "happy ethnic family" flicks, but rather a snickering send-up of those types of films. Like Mike Myers's Scottish family in "I Married An Axe-Murderer"--another mildly entertaining satire of "happy ethnic family" truisms--i.e., I don't think Myers thinks real Scottish families are all THAT excited about haggis, and I didn't think that the makers of "The Cookout" really think that "country Black folks" would show up barefoot and drag a dead deer through the house.
In other other words, as I saw it, they're making fun of films that take their stereotypes just a bit too seriously, like, probably, "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," which I never saw, or "Torchsong Trilogy" or "Moonstruck," which I did see. Where Ang lists the offensive stereotypes, I could just imagine producers sitting around saying, "what other ridiculous stereotypes can we lampoon here? Oh I know, what about country hicks--yeah--we can have 'em drag a dead deer through the house!" I mean, I think a stereotype is offensive when it's meant to be mocking the people it's referring to, but I thought these stereotypes were mocking stupid Hollywood "ethnic family" movies.
So in other words I wasn't offended. And while I did cringe when Danny Glover asserted his "manhood," I thought he had some of the best moments of the film while he was playing the uptight prick...("What? Negroes? In this neighborhood??") In fact, some of the moments that rang most true to me were his and Queen Latifah's mocking of the "middle-class Blacks get tough on the city youth" routine, which I have definitely seen! "Stand back whitey, I know how to handle these kids! You gotta be tough on 'em! Don't give 'em an inch!" In fact, it even made me feel a bit better about not wanting to buy into that routine.
I also laughed at the conspiracy theorist, and appreciated the moment when the skanky girlfriend tries to act more "Black" to keep her boyfriend from breaking up with her--reminded me of white teachers who try too hard to "get down with" their students of color.
I don't mean to make an argument out of this at all, cuz it's not like it was a great movie, and I probably wouldn't exactly recommend it. But, since everyone I saw it with totally totally hated it, I just felt like piping up with my two cents. I'm probably missing something important, and maybe the fact I enjoyed it just means I'm dumber than the movie--but who cares--I had fun, that's all I really wanted to say.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
so far so good!
just in case you were wondering, I'm having a blast with my student teaching. it's very low-key, low-pressure, and a lot of fun. I love the students! They're adorable and hilarious! ("They're BABIES!" said another student teacher who moved from high sch to middle sch). And I'm learning SO MUCH! as I had hoped, this teacher is the perfect counter-weight to my tendency to rescue too much (thus fostering dependency). She is very caring but also has good boundaries. Sits back and observes students' difficulties, then provides advice about tools and strategies for them to use to help themselves. I think her method is not completely effective so I will probably modify it, but in the meantime it is so important for me to break this habit of enabling students to remain weak instead of helping them become more independent and proactive.
Example: Dorotha is a sweet but shy new student (her name's not really Dorotha but she has the same name as Dorotha's real name). I'm worried that she's not making friends. My solution: ask some of the other girls to include her more. Their response--look put-upon and disdainfully curl lip. I think I have just made things worse. Teacher's solution: "If she's still having trouble in a couple of days we can talk with her about ways to join a conversation or lunch table. She needs to learn how to do that.")
Anyway it's wonderful, I look forward to it, and I think there will be no tears this time.
Example: Dorotha is a sweet but shy new student (her name's not really Dorotha but she has the same name as Dorotha's real name). I'm worried that she's not making friends. My solution: ask some of the other girls to include her more. Their response--look put-upon and disdainfully curl lip. I think I have just made things worse. Teacher's solution: "If she's still having trouble in a couple of days we can talk with her about ways to join a conversation or lunch table. She needs to learn how to do that.")
Anyway it's wonderful, I look forward to it, and I think there will be no tears this time.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
karaoke, karie-yokie, carey-oke....
I neglected to blog about karaoke last week (or the week before, whenever it was).
I had a lot of fun. Those who observed the incessant flailing and hollering that represent my best attempt at dancing & singing along will no doubt already be aware of this. Those who were not present will be amused to hear that I sang "when I'm 64" (too quietly and not too well), in honor of Loopy's & my 11th anniversary; and that I later followed that up with a much drunker and rowdier rendition of "brick house" also in honor of the love of my life ("that lady's stacked and that's a fact, she ain't holding nothing back")(many thanks to my lovely bandmates on that one).
I also had a chance to meet NC--Loopy has been raving about NC's blog for many months now. Wow, NC is gorgeous!!! I had stupidly assumed that she'd be a matronly middle-aged sort of person, since she's a law prof and all that, but not at all. It was fun to meet her after all this time. She and another distinguished UW prof sang "if I had a hammer," which was definitely a highlight in my opinion.
There were lots of other highlights too and I hope I get to go back! Yay! And if anyone has any photos of me at this event, please destroy them. No, kidding, please send me a copy (and then destroy them).
I had a lot of fun. Those who observed the incessant flailing and hollering that represent my best attempt at dancing & singing along will no doubt already be aware of this. Those who were not present will be amused to hear that I sang "when I'm 64" (too quietly and not too well), in honor of Loopy's & my 11th anniversary; and that I later followed that up with a much drunker and rowdier rendition of "brick house" also in honor of the love of my life ("that lady's stacked and that's a fact, she ain't holding nothing back")(many thanks to my lovely bandmates on that one).
I also had a chance to meet NC--Loopy has been raving about NC's blog for many months now. Wow, NC is gorgeous!!! I had stupidly assumed that she'd be a matronly middle-aged sort of person, since she's a law prof and all that, but not at all. It was fun to meet her after all this time. She and another distinguished UW prof sang "if I had a hammer," which was definitely a highlight in my opinion.
There were lots of other highlights too and I hope I get to go back! Yay! And if anyone has any photos of me at this event, please destroy them. No, kidding, please send me a copy (and then destroy them).
Thursday, September 02, 2004
way too stream-of-consciousness...
ok, first of all, who wrote that last post? do I really talk like that? "she seems pretty cool"? "scary stuff man"? "here's a shout-out"? What is this, MTV--no, make that VH1--"veejay" tryouts??? jeezus. When I was in SF my old friend (and former high school English teacher) was horrified that I constantly say "awesome." Yeah, thanks a lot, Ang and Miriam. ;-)
Anyway, tonight Loopy's advisor and all her fellow advisees came to dinner. Despite some trepidation beforehand it was actually very nice. I even dare to think that it's possible that everyone had a good time--and I can't remember when I attended (much less hosted) a party where everyone had a good time. Usually someone's bored, depressed, irritated, distracted, whatever. The food was....well, awesome (yeah, thanks a lot, Ang and Loopy) ;-) and we sat around outside on the screened porch. For some reason that's the first time we've ever eaten a meal out there. Very pleasant--the temperature was perfect.
I got all anxious and babbled at Loopy's advisor, but he didn't seem to mind. I gave him a tour of the house and pointed out weird things and talked really fast. I always hear that he asks lots of questions and is interested in everything so I guess I felt free to make myself a specimen. Like I said, he didn't seem to mind, and he did ask questions--actually he asked my favorite kind of questions, the kind that lead up to great stories, like, "Where did you get those two Chinese paintings?" (On the street in China. There's more to the story but this post is too long already).
Loopy is calling mournfully from the other room. She needs a Motrin after vacuuming furiously for the evening's events. Vacuuming always hurts our backs. It's best if we divide the job but I was at school. Which is still going swimmingly--I taught my first activity today and the teacher said she thought it went well. Yay! The kids are AWESOME. (hmmm, I do over-use that word). Anyway, gotta get Loopy her Motrin. Poor Loopy. First a root canal, now a backache....
Anyway, tonight Loopy's advisor and all her fellow advisees came to dinner. Despite some trepidation beforehand it was actually very nice. I even dare to think that it's possible that everyone had a good time--and I can't remember when I attended (much less hosted) a party where everyone had a good time. Usually someone's bored, depressed, irritated, distracted, whatever. The food was....well, awesome (yeah, thanks a lot, Ang and Loopy) ;-) and we sat around outside on the screened porch. For some reason that's the first time we've ever eaten a meal out there. Very pleasant--the temperature was perfect.
I got all anxious and babbled at Loopy's advisor, but he didn't seem to mind. I gave him a tour of the house and pointed out weird things and talked really fast. I always hear that he asks lots of questions and is interested in everything so I guess I felt free to make myself a specimen. Like I said, he didn't seem to mind, and he did ask questions--actually he asked my favorite kind of questions, the kind that lead up to great stories, like, "Where did you get those two Chinese paintings?" (On the street in China. There's more to the story but this post is too long already).
Loopy is calling mournfully from the other room. She needs a Motrin after vacuuming furiously for the evening's events. Vacuuming always hurts our backs. It's best if we divide the job but I was at school. Which is still going swimmingly--I taught my first activity today and the teacher said she thought it went well. Yay! The kids are AWESOME. (hmmm, I do over-use that word). Anyway, gotta get Loopy her Motrin. Poor Loopy. First a root canal, now a backache....
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
countdown to zero hour...
well, tomorrow at 7:35 the kiddies descend. (that's the worst thing about this fall's student teaching placement. I hafta be there at 7:30ish every friggin morning. and there's no parking at the school and today I got a ticket. :-P scuse the whining...)
anyway, well, it looks like this semester is gonna be relatively mellow. definitely a lot less crying. the teacher maintains firm control of her class and lets me teach a unit or two once in a while. fine by me. i'm just looking forward to learning from her. she seems pretty cool.
some of the students came in today and they are so tiny!!!! (they're just 11 after all, compared to my big hulking students last year)(they were born the year I graduated from college--scary stuff man!)
the impression of tininess is increased by the fact that their eyes are just gigantically bugging out of their little heads--apparently movin' on up to middle school is fucking terrifying. poor things.
well, i'll keep y'all posted. here's a shout-out to xe in Tucson and to the soc TAs who will be rolling into action soon. let's hear it for teachers.... yee-haw.
anyway, well, it looks like this semester is gonna be relatively mellow. definitely a lot less crying. the teacher maintains firm control of her class and lets me teach a unit or two once in a while. fine by me. i'm just looking forward to learning from her. she seems pretty cool.
some of the students came in today and they are so tiny!!!! (they're just 11 after all, compared to my big hulking students last year)(they were born the year I graduated from college--scary stuff man!)
the impression of tininess is increased by the fact that their eyes are just gigantically bugging out of their little heads--apparently movin' on up to middle school is fucking terrifying. poor things.
well, i'll keep y'all posted. here's a shout-out to xe in Tucson and to the soc TAs who will be rolling into action soon. let's hear it for teachers.... yee-haw.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
all that for nuthin'
So I went over to the school and she wasn't even there! Ha! And she hadn't been there since last week. Although I feel slightly nervous about not meeting with her yet even though school starts so soon, I also feel a bit like I've been given a gift of a few extra days of time, which I've been using to print out photos for our Scotland trip album (yes, that was last year, so I'm a bit slow on making albums!) and do some other fun relaxing things. Last night we saw Garden State in which Bilbo Baggins plays a big tall (well, for a hobbit) psychiatrist. It was a bit depressing but kinda cute. I especially liked the ending (like, the last two minutes).
(Except that, yeah, why is it that the boring loser stoner boys get their lives turned around by sparkling wondrous females, whereas the sparkling wondrous females get....the fabulous prize of....being the ones who turn around some boring loser stoner boy's life?)
(Except that, yeah, why is it that the boring loser stoner boys get their lives turned around by sparkling wondrous females, whereas the sparkling wondrous females get....the fabulous prize of....being the ones who turn around some boring loser stoner boy's life?)
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
scene 1, take 2
So I didn't even make it over there yesterday. I panicked and went into full avoidance mode. Result--still sitting at the computer in my nightgown 12 hours later. Ah well. Trying again today. On the plus side, I think I've got the panicking out of my system, at least about this initial encounter. I feel quite relaxed actually.
I've got a quote taped to my bathroom mirror about facing your fears and "do the thing you think you cannot do," along with a photo of Emma Goldman. It occurs to me that perhaps I'm allowing myself to over-dramatize all this. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? Certainly not deportation to Russia or imprisonment on Blackwell's Island (things that happened to Emma G). And hey, remember, I actually like being around kids. This could actually be fun and interesting. More likely to be so if I have the attitude that it will be. Panic doesn't help, that's for sure.
So, off I go. Trying again. Dear Shawnee wrote that a friend once commented to her, "you can start over whenever you like." So I'm starting over, hopefully not taking it all so deathly seriously. I'm also recalling a favorite quote, "how wonderful it is that no one need wait a single moment to experience true happiness." In other words if I just stop all the insanity in my head and, well, just stop, there is peace.
I've got a quote taped to my bathroom mirror about facing your fears and "do the thing you think you cannot do," along with a photo of Emma Goldman. It occurs to me that perhaps I'm allowing myself to over-dramatize all this. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? Certainly not deportation to Russia or imprisonment on Blackwell's Island (things that happened to Emma G). And hey, remember, I actually like being around kids. This could actually be fun and interesting. More likely to be so if I have the attitude that it will be. Panic doesn't help, that's for sure.
So, off I go. Trying again. Dear Shawnee wrote that a friend once commented to her, "you can start over whenever you like." So I'm starting over, hopefully not taking it all so deathly seriously. I'm also recalling a favorite quote, "how wonderful it is that no one need wait a single moment to experience true happiness." In other words if I just stop all the insanity in my head and, well, just stop, there is peace.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
well, back to the real world
tomorrow is my first day at my new student teaching post (thankfully no students yet). I'm going a little haywire as is my wont. I have a tendency to start panicking that I don't know enough to teach my subject, and start desperately trying to read stuff; and/or, I start creating or shopping for Cool Visual Aides, a classic procrastination technique. I have been trying not to do this, since I already developed a good syllabus during my summer school class, and I do think I know what I need to know (although I don't neccessarily have the skills down to do it well). (Geeky confession: I have been using as a mantra, Yoda's voice in my head saying, "Already know you, that which you need." I'm considering deleting this confession immediately).
Loopy made the wise suggestion that we should fend off crying and hysteria by going to a movie, which was awesome (the Bourne Supremacy)(did I ever mention--for those of you other than Amy who already knows this since she was there--that Matt Damon used to live upstairs from me before he dropped out of college?) Now no time now for panicking, time for bed. Aaack. I hope I can sleep.
Will Birdie like me? Will I screw up totally? Will she think I'm an idiot and a failure and refuse to write me a letter of recommendation? Will I cry a lot like I did last year? Will I get to the end of the semester and still be on week 2 or 3 of my syllabus, as happened in every one of my four classes last year?
It's amazing how writing down your fears can help them seem more manageable. The obvious answers to the above questions are (respectively): Doesn't matter. Unlikely. Unlikely. Even if I do, it won't kill me. Unlikely, since Birdie is a lot more hands-on than my cooperating teacher last year.
The number one question: will I be a better teacher after this semester than I am now?
Undoubtedly.
That's the main point, right? Right?
Loopy made the wise suggestion that we should fend off crying and hysteria by going to a movie, which was awesome (the Bourne Supremacy)(did I ever mention--for those of you other than Amy who already knows this since she was there--that Matt Damon used to live upstairs from me before he dropped out of college?) Now no time now for panicking, time for bed. Aaack. I hope I can sleep.
Will Birdie like me? Will I screw up totally? Will she think I'm an idiot and a failure and refuse to write me a letter of recommendation? Will I cry a lot like I did last year? Will I get to the end of the semester and still be on week 2 or 3 of my syllabus, as happened in every one of my four classes last year?
It's amazing how writing down your fears can help them seem more manageable. The obvious answers to the above questions are (respectively): Doesn't matter. Unlikely. Unlikely. Even if I do, it won't kill me. Unlikely, since Birdie is a lot more hands-on than my cooperating teacher last year.
The number one question: will I be a better teacher after this semester than I am now?
Undoubtedly.
That's the main point, right? Right?
Monday, August 16, 2004
just in case there was any doubt...
we have not stopped eating, although the ASA (the big important conference that is the primary excuse for this whole excursion) is starting to interfere a bit. Yesterday I spent with my cousin, his wife and their adorable kids while all the socioogist types hobnobbed with the VIPs. In the evening, 4 of us went to Chinatown and ate lobster, crab, chow fun with conch, jellyfish, and other yummies. It was the first Chinese food I've had that tasted like the actual Chinese food I had during my brief trip to actual China. I was delighted not so much by the authenticity (I also like American Chinees food) as by the fact that I can still remember what I ate in China (12 years ago now).
The other interesting thing about the meal was that we sat RIGHT next to a big stack of aquariums (aquaria?) containing soon-to-be-food. This wasn't as disturbing as I'd feared, except periodically when a disembodied hand brandishing large metal tongs (or a net, depending on the species of catch) would suddenly appear, poke violently into the midst of the crabs (lobsters, fish, whatever), chase them around until it caught one, then withdraw just as suddenly amid a swirl of dirty water and feebly waving limbs (fins, whatever).
The waiter also brought our (blue, twitching) lobster out for our approval ("two and a half pounds, very good lobster sir"). This was directed at SHamie who looked a bit bewildered (perhaps he's more used to approving the wine selection). Only after the waiter left did Ang comment, "that's two and half pounds, at eighteen dollars a pound, you realize," at which point I think I probably looked a bit shocked as well. but ohhhhhhh, it was sooooo worth it!
Only two more days of eating! We have to hurry!
The other interesting thing about the meal was that we sat RIGHT next to a big stack of aquariums (aquaria?) containing soon-to-be-food. This wasn't as disturbing as I'd feared, except periodically when a disembodied hand brandishing large metal tongs (or a net, depending on the species of catch) would suddenly appear, poke violently into the midst of the crabs (lobsters, fish, whatever), chase them around until it caught one, then withdraw just as suddenly amid a swirl of dirty water and feebly waving limbs (fins, whatever).
The waiter also brought our (blue, twitching) lobster out for our approval ("two and a half pounds, very good lobster sir"). This was directed at SHamie who looked a bit bewildered (perhaps he's more used to approving the wine selection). Only after the waiter left did Ang comment, "that's two and half pounds, at eighteen dollars a pound, you realize," at which point I think I probably looked a bit shocked as well. but ohhhhhhh, it was sooooo worth it!
Only two more days of eating! We have to hurry!
Sunday, August 15, 2004
not so "alternative"
This afternoon I had shiatsu massage in the hotel fitness center and the massage therapist correctly diagnosed my back problem after 45 minutes.
Where was she two years ago, when I was getting x-rays and MRIs and spending six weeks popping pain pills while waiting to see the hotshit spine specialist?
"I have a lower back problem," I told her as she got started, "so go easy on it." "Ok," she said. That was literally the only information I gave her. Forty-five minutes later, she said, "Your back--center bones, 4 and 5, eh?" Why yes, it's the fourth and fifth lumbar vertebrae. Fucking amazing! Next time around I'll skip the vicodin and find a shiatsu practitioner. Although hopefully there won't be a next time if I keep doing my exercises faithfully. Oh, did I mention she gave me the same exercises my expensive physical therapist gave me?
"Lovey! We wanna watch TV! God!!!"
OK, bye.
Where was she two years ago, when I was getting x-rays and MRIs and spending six weeks popping pain pills while waiting to see the hotshit spine specialist?
"I have a lower back problem," I told her as she got started, "so go easy on it." "Ok," she said. That was literally the only information I gave her. Forty-five minutes later, she said, "Your back--center bones, 4 and 5, eh?" Why yes, it's the fourth and fifth lumbar vertebrae. Fucking amazing! Next time around I'll skip the vicodin and find a shiatsu practitioner. Although hopefully there won't be a next time if I keep doing my exercises faithfully. Oh, did I mention she gave me the same exercises my expensive physical therapist gave me?
"Lovey! We wanna watch TV! God!!!"
OK, bye.
"What kind of cookie would you like?"
V: "So, do you guys want shortbread--"
R&A: "Yes!"
V: "--or Moravian spice cookies--"
R&A: "Yes! Yes!"
V: "--or fancy French caramels--"
R&A: "Yes!"
Ang: "Or Turkish Delight! Yes!"
OK, OK, truth be told, ten minutes later, who was wolfing down Moravian spice cookies (hey, they're very thin cookies, ok?) amid a sea of caramel wrappers? That would be me. Ang & R each had a ladylike single serving of each item. (Thanks to Williams Sonoma for making all of this possible)
R&A: "Yes!"
V: "--or Moravian spice cookies--"
R&A: "Yes! Yes!"
V: "--or fancy French caramels--"
R&A: "Yes!"
Ang: "Or Turkish Delight! Yes!"
OK, OK, truth be told, ten minutes later, who was wolfing down Moravian spice cookies (hey, they're very thin cookies, ok?) amid a sea of caramel wrappers? That would be me. Ang & R each had a ladylike single serving of each item. (Thanks to Williams Sonoma for making all of this possible)
Friday, August 13, 2004
A message from Ang
Ang wants me to tell you that she does not have time to blog this but she did not pass the prelim. She is fine, do not worry. She will blog about it soon. Thanks. [the above was dictated by Ang, I would add that the rest of us are shocked & convinced that there must be some kind of mistake. 'the rest of us' at this point equals waaaay too many people in a small hotel room, viz., Loopy, Shamie, Jay, and me (and Ang makes five). Anyway, everyone is indignant and Loopy is loudly proclaiming plans to storm the elitest bastions of academe with various demands. Stay tooned.
Actually it took me so long to type this that Jay has left and the discussion has turned to the question of where we should stuff our faces tonight. 'Put your pants on Loopy let's go!" says Loopy. My pants are on, incidentally, but ok.
Actually it took me so long to type this that Jay has left and the discussion has turned to the question of where we should stuff our faces tonight. 'Put your pants on Loopy let's go!" says Loopy. My pants are on, incidentally, but ok.
"As god is my witness, I will never be hungry again!"
'Ugh, I'm sooo full I think I'm gonna yark!" ((= Ang-speak for "puke"). Yup, another day of stuffing our faces has come to a satiated conclusion. "Loopy, gimme a big kiss" "okay but don't press on my tummy!" The title of this post comes from a moment earlier this evening when, over our six-course "tasting menu" (prix fixe) dinner, one of us said, "god, I don't think I'm ever going to be hungry again," and the other two replied almost in unison with that quote from Scarlett O. Personally I believe I attained Nirvana during dessert, which was orange-flavored flan, goat cheese & pear tartlet, AND mexican hot chocolate ("Note to self," Loopy commented, "three desserts are better than one.")
Lunch was faboo dim sum (the kind that comes around on carts and you point to what you want) at a place called "Yank Sing" (while trying to remember the name Ang called it "something like 'Gringo,' only not that"). (I hafta say I think the name is perfect revenge for places with names like "Chinky Chonky"--which is in London, I kid you not)(Although it turns out that "Yank Sing" is actually a real place name of a city in China).
Tto pass the time in the afternoon while waiting to be hungry again, we went to the Asian Art Museum and made fun of the art as well as our fellow patrons.
the urgency with which I am desperately trying to avoid thinking about my fall student teaching (for which I'm woefully unprepared--aaaaaak!!!!), together with Ang's anxiety about her prelim (apparently she's the onliest person who hasn't heard her results yet!! yiks!), are the only sour notes. And we just won't think about that, wil we? More braised squab, anyone?
Lunch was faboo dim sum (the kind that comes around on carts and you point to what you want) at a place called "Yank Sing" (while trying to remember the name Ang called it "something like 'Gringo,' only not that"). (I hafta say I think the name is perfect revenge for places with names like "Chinky Chonky"--which is in London, I kid you not)(Although it turns out that "Yank Sing" is actually a real place name of a city in China).
Tto pass the time in the afternoon while waiting to be hungry again, we went to the Asian Art Museum and made fun of the art as well as our fellow patrons.
the urgency with which I am desperately trying to avoid thinking about my fall student teaching (for which I'm woefully unprepared--aaaaaak!!!!), together with Ang's anxiety about her prelim (apparently she's the onliest person who hasn't heard her results yet!! yiks!), are the only sour notes. And we just won't think about that, wil we? More braised squab, anyone?
Thursday, August 12, 2004
"what are you eating now? my god! stop eating!!!"
O-senbei, if you must know--I'm eating o-senbei. Little rice crackers dipped in soy sauce and wrapped in plum-flavored seaweed. And why did Loopy yell at me to stop eating? Hmmm, could be because we have been on a solid binge since arriving in SF yesterday afternoon. (We had to make a rule--wait five hours between meals--because we were having this fabulous dinner and couldn't manage to choke it down because we had been eating all afternoon). We have also started referring to our point of origin as "fucking Madison," as in, "god this sushi is orgasmic... Fucking Madison!" or, "look, it's nine thirty and people are still eating and having a good time. Fucking Madison!"
Loopy is knitting (a gorgeous sweater, and she just ripped it all out and started over--she had about three inches already!) and Ang is reading People (I bought it, I admit) and telling hilarious nasty stories about people in the TAA. We are staying at a fancy shmancy hotel and LUSH is across the fucking street!!! This is the life.
The only thing that would make it beter would be if Katy, Dorotha, Autumn, Knit Wit &co were all here too (it's not too late to hop on a plane, guys--I hear Shamie has room in his palatial suite...c'mon, c'mon!!!)....Well, we bought all kinds of presents for you crazy kids, so you'll know we;re thinking of you. :) (Oh, but if only we could bring you a doggie bag...!!!)
Loopy is knitting (a gorgeous sweater, and she just ripped it all out and started over--she had about three inches already!) and Ang is reading People (I bought it, I admit) and telling hilarious nasty stories about people in the TAA. We are staying at a fancy shmancy hotel and LUSH is across the fucking street!!! This is the life.
The only thing that would make it beter would be if Katy, Dorotha, Autumn, Knit Wit &co were all here too (it's not too late to hop on a plane, guys--I hear Shamie has room in his palatial suite...c'mon, c'mon!!!)....Well, we bought all kinds of presents for you crazy kids, so you'll know we;re thinking of you. :) (Oh, but if only we could bring you a doggie bag...!!!)
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Southern hospitality
As you know, last week I was in Atlanta attending the national convention of Solidarity, the socialist organization to which Loopy and I belong. Two amusing anecdotes follow:
Story #1:
All week long, VIP Theresa is talking about bags of Lenin, but she is never talking to me. "I have to go and bag some more Lenin after dinner," she comments to a friend. "Did you get your bag of Lenin?" she asks someone else another time. "Be sure you stop by room 217 for your Lenin." Theresa is too much of a VIP for me to barge into these conversations and ask, "What the heck is in these bags of Lenin? Why don't I get one?" I think to myself that maybe I'm not important enough to get a bag of Lenin. Long story short, people who are staying in the dormitories have to pick up big bags of...linen! for their beds! Theresa's gorgeous Southern accent threw me for a loop and created a running joke for everyone else all week, as people accused each other of being "linenists."
Story #2:
I am a pot virgin. Yes, it's true. I may be the last one. I don't often confess this, but it makes this story funnier. So, I'm standing in the back of the convention meeting room, listening to some important person go on and on about something (Iraq possibly, or international labor solidarity...), when James Jones (see below) comes up to me and hands me a Burger King bag. "Here's some pot," he whispers. "I had to get change so I just got some." I'm surprised, but try to look calm and cool. I take it from him, thinking, "Why are you giving this to ME?" and "damn, this bag is heavy, how much pot is in here anyway???" I quickly put it on the floor next to my stuff. After a moment's reflection I nudge it further from my stuff--wouldn't want that smell to alert the airport bloodhounds, now, would we. At the end of the talk, I leave the room clutching the bag, looking for someone to give it to who might want it. James sees it and looks surprised. "Isn't it melted?" "huh?" I say. "Wasn't it frozen?" he asks. I'm completely nonplussed. I open the bag, and find... chocolate cream pie, Burger King style. (Say "pie" with a Southern accent and you'll understand...)
Story #1:
All week long, VIP Theresa is talking about bags of Lenin, but she is never talking to me. "I have to go and bag some more Lenin after dinner," she comments to a friend. "Did you get your bag of Lenin?" she asks someone else another time. "Be sure you stop by room 217 for your Lenin." Theresa is too much of a VIP for me to barge into these conversations and ask, "What the heck is in these bags of Lenin? Why don't I get one?" I think to myself that maybe I'm not important enough to get a bag of Lenin. Long story short, people who are staying in the dormitories have to pick up big bags of...linen! for their beds! Theresa's gorgeous Southern accent threw me for a loop and created a running joke for everyone else all week, as people accused each other of being "linenists."
Story #2:
I am a pot virgin. Yes, it's true. I may be the last one. I don't often confess this, but it makes this story funnier. So, I'm standing in the back of the convention meeting room, listening to some important person go on and on about something (Iraq possibly, or international labor solidarity...), when James Jones (see below) comes up to me and hands me a Burger King bag. "Here's some pot," he whispers. "I had to get change so I just got some." I'm surprised, but try to look calm and cool. I take it from him, thinking, "Why are you giving this to ME?" and "damn, this bag is heavy, how much pot is in here anyway???" I quickly put it on the floor next to my stuff. After a moment's reflection I nudge it further from my stuff--wouldn't want that smell to alert the airport bloodhounds, now, would we. At the end of the talk, I leave the room clutching the bag, looking for someone to give it to who might want it. James sees it and looks surprised. "Isn't it melted?" "huh?" I say. "Wasn't it frozen?" he asks. I'm completely nonplussed. I open the bag, and find... chocolate cream pie, Burger King style. (Say "pie" with a Southern accent and you'll understand...)
Monday, August 02, 2004
suspense!!!
Loopy (along w Ang and Erik and others) is finishing up her prelim just about now! It's so exciting! I've been thinking about her all day (except during my "expensive nap"--which is what Loopy calls my accupuncture treatments). At 2:45 I thought, "probably about now she's entering that final calm phase where you realize that, for better or worse, it's almost all over and soon you'll be free." Now I'm looking at the clock and wondering if she's rereading her work with growing confidence, or already sauntering out early with a jaunty victorious stride, or perhaps sliding into a panic as the minutes tick away toward The End. I hope she's ok. Either way, it won't be long now! I have to go get the car so I can be ready to take them to a victory (or at least completion) celebration! Yippee!
The only bad part is, we have to do this again next summer. But let's not think about that now. The good part is, if all goes well (and no reason why it wouldn't), she is half done with prelimming and next summer will be the last summer she ever, ever, ever has to worry about it! Yay!
Go loopy, go loopy, go loopy, GO! YAY LOOPY!!!
I will post more about my trip soon.
The only bad part is, we have to do this again next summer. But let's not think about that now. The good part is, if all goes well (and no reason why it wouldn't), she is half done with prelimming and next summer will be the last summer she ever, ever, ever has to worry about it! Yay!
Go loopy, go loopy, go loopy, GO! YAY LOOPY!!!
I will post more about my trip soon.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
you'll know me by the revolutionary fervor in my eyes
I have never met the guy who will pick me up at the airport tomorrow in Atlanta, so he describes himself for me in these charming words:
I tried to share this entertaining typo with my Mom (since I felt I should explain why I was laughing out loud), but she very seriously tried to convince me that it was quite likely that he was, indeed, bringing a white bear--the way people in earlier times might wear a red carnation to identify themselves. Uh, yeah.
Also, the name of the guy (also unknown to me) where I will be staying is James Jones. Say, why don't any of your friends call you "Jim"?
Don't worry, friends, fans and associates, I will be careful not to drink any kool-aid. It will be much, much harder, nay, well-nigh impossible, over the course of the six days I'll be staying there,* to avoid making any jokes about drinking kool-aid. But I must be strong.
These are the types of sacrifices that are required of us brave revolutionaries.
*I'm just a tad nervous about staying so long with a stranger, who might turn out to be boring, loud, creepy, dirty, or have a white bear, but I can always use my back as an excuse if I need to escape to a hotel.
My car is a small "cappucino" colored Nissan and I'm a guy with white bear and glasses.
I tried to share this entertaining typo with my Mom (since I felt I should explain why I was laughing out loud), but she very seriously tried to convince me that it was quite likely that he was, indeed, bringing a white bear--the way people in earlier times might wear a red carnation to identify themselves. Uh, yeah.
Also, the name of the guy (also unknown to me) where I will be staying is James Jones. Say, why don't any of your friends call you "Jim"?
Don't worry, friends, fans and associates, I will be careful not to drink any kool-aid. It will be much, much harder, nay, well-nigh impossible, over the course of the six days I'll be staying there,* to avoid making any jokes about drinking kool-aid. But I must be strong.
These are the types of sacrifices that are required of us brave revolutionaries.
*I'm just a tad nervous about staying so long with a stranger, who might turn out to be boring, loud, creepy, dirty, or have a white bear, but I can always use my back as an excuse if I need to escape to a hotel.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Love (if you don't like mush, skip this one)
I have such a cute message from Loopy on my phone this morning. She sounds all sleepy and she wants to know how I'm doing & how Dad's doing (she didn't read the marathon blog session yet). (Loopy's message was a sharp contrast to my Mom's message which consisted entirely of a series of guilt trips, back to back, like the continuous hits on 105.1 the buzz).
Loopy's message made me happy and reminded me of all the things that I have learned about what people do when they love you. I learned about this first from Sennuy, then from Amy, and then from Loopy. I could include a lot of other beloved & loving & very important people in my life, but these three were the main people who knew something about—and moreover saw that I didn't know & took it upon themselves to teach me—how to be loved and loving. Not necessarily in a flamboyant, dramatic way, but in the little, everyday ways that wrap you up in a cocoon of comfort and make you brave and hopeful.
A short list of things I didn't know on this topic:
Probably nobody does this all perfectly all the time, but some people are a lot more equipped for it than others. You have to know who you are, to have something inside yourself besides need.
My parents love me in the best way they can, and I appreciate and like and love them. But they are themselves damaged, and they were much worse twenty years ago (they have steadily gotten better since getting out of that cult—see Loopy's thesis). Being here is a brief return to—not even that, just an echo of—the ravenous loneliness of being a chid here. I have long since come to terms with all this and accepted that my parents can simultaneously be kind/ lovable/good-hearted people, and inadequate parents.
As I consider the list above, I feel overwhelmed with wonder and gratitude. It seems impossibly good and more than I deserve, and yet, it's also simple and straightforward. The people whom I love and who have loved me in this way are incredibly precious. You know who you are and I am grateful for you.
Additions to and/or comments on this list are welcome. I am still learning about this. I hope I live up to it because I am blessed with some amazing people in my life and they deserve all this and more from me.
this is to make the von trapps go away. frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo gandalf gandalf gandalf gimli legolas treebeard lotr istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul
Loopy's message made me happy and reminded me of all the things that I have learned about what people do when they love you. I learned about this first from Sennuy, then from Amy, and then from Loopy. I could include a lot of other beloved & loving & very important people in my life, but these three were the main people who knew something about—and moreover saw that I didn't know & took it upon themselves to teach me—how to be loved and loving. Not necessarily in a flamboyant, dramatic way, but in the little, everyday ways that wrap you up in a cocoon of comfort and make you brave and hopeful.
A short list of things I didn't know on this topic:
- People who love you worry and wonder about you when you're not around. They hope you're okay and want to find out.
- They want you to call if you'll be late, so they know you didn't get hit by a bus.
- They want you to call when you get where you're going, so they know you didn't die in a fiery plane crash.
- When you've been low or sick, they want to know if you're doing better.
- They want you to call if you'll be late, so they know you didn't get hit by a bus.
- People who love you listen to you because they want to know what you think or feel.
- They are not just waiting for their turn to speak.
- They are not just looking for how your words reflect on them.
- They are not just waiting for their turn to speak.
- People who love you look beyond the surface.
- They make comments like, "You look sad/tired. Are you ok?"
- They hear feelings under words, they don't take everything literally or think that every emotional comment represents a considered opinion.
- Sometimes they know you better than you know yourself.
- They make comments like, "You look sad/tired. Are you ok?"
- People who love you want you to know it, and they want you to love them back.
- Wanting you to love them back is because they love you, not because it will justify their existence or prove that they are lovable.
- Sometimes they are hurt or jealous if you don't take good care of them. Take good care of them!
- Wanting you to love them back is because they love you, not because it will justify their existence or prove that they are lovable.
- People who love you really, genuinely want you to be happy.
- When they do little fun things for you, they do it for you & for fun, not because they want to think to themselves, "I am the kind of person who does little fun things for my loved ones."
- If you need something they are instantly there for you—and they are matter-of-fact about it—they don't exude an air of guilt-inducing noble self-sacrifice.
- Corollary: If they can't help, they let you know why not, and they find other ways to let you know they care. They don't make you feel worse for needing help.
- When they do little fun things for you, they do it for you & for fun, not because they want to think to themselves, "I am the kind of person who does little fun things for my loved ones."
- The most important way to sum all of this up is that people who love you really see you.
- They know a lot about you and they want to know more about you.
- Their favorite things about you aren't all things you do for them.
- Their idea of you isn't a flat 2-D list of characteristics that never change. They also see where you've come from and where you're trying to go. They see you growing and becoming and they support you.
- They know a lot about you and they want to know more about you.
Probably nobody does this all perfectly all the time, but some people are a lot more equipped for it than others. You have to know who you are, to have something inside yourself besides need.
My parents love me in the best way they can, and I appreciate and like and love them. But they are themselves damaged, and they were much worse twenty years ago (they have steadily gotten better since getting out of that cult—see Loopy's thesis). Being here is a brief return to—not even that, just an echo of—the ravenous loneliness of being a chid here. I have long since come to terms with all this and accepted that my parents can simultaneously be kind/ lovable/good-hearted people, and inadequate parents.
As I consider the list above, I feel overwhelmed with wonder and gratitude. It seems impossibly good and more than I deserve, and yet, it's also simple and straightforward. The people whom I love and who have loved me in this way are incredibly precious. You know who you are and I am grateful for you.
Additions to and/or comments on this list are welcome. I am still learning about this. I hope I live up to it because I am blessed with some amazing people in my life and they deserve all this and more from me.
this is to make the von trapps go away. frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo frodo gandalf gandalf gandalf gimli legolas treebeard lotr istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul istanbul
one sad and one funny
SAD
ok, you will see that i have been on a marathon blogging session. i realize I should go to bed, so please take this in context, as the over-tired (and likely PMS-y) ramblings of an out-of-context person.
Generally I have been having a really fun time here, playing scrabble with my dad and talking to all the interesting old people in the dining room.
but tonight we sat with some old guy who must have said about fifteen times (I am not exaggerating) something about "Islamic madrassas" (which he persistently pronounced "Madras") "indoctrinating" people to blow themselves up ("we can't even begin to understand how they think"). For good measure, he threw in Sammuel Hufffington's "clashof civilizatons" PLUS a theory about how white people are smarter because Europe has a change of seasons (!!!)(although I registered my disagreement on each of these points, it was useless to argue, because he couldn't hear well--especially when I disagreed)(this guy a retired professor from Columbia and Berkeley, mind you).
And, Mom is coming home tomorrow and she's getting all crazy (demanding & manipulatively demanding) about the party. I forgot to do something she wanted me to do today, and it's too late now. The inner conflict between "oh no, she's going to be mad" and "f--- that, it's minor, if she's mad she's silly" is depressingly familiar.
Predictable upshot--I am getting tired and lonely. It has been a long time since I had that feeling of being completely alone, invisible almost. People have their own lives and their own concerns and they don't really see you. I think I am more mature than i once was, in that this could be fun for four whole days, but now i miss my Loopy and I want someone to see me. I am afraid Loopy doesn't need me. I'm so glad she's feeling better but I can't help feeling that at best I'm irrelevant to the equation. I need Loopy. Everyone needs someone to see them.*
FUNNY
On the plane on the way here, I was seated on the aisle. In the three seats opposite were three children, approximate ages 7, 9, and 12 (or so). They kept whispering to each other and turning around in their seats to look at me. Not just glance, but stare at me for minutes at a time as if intrigued. Finally I said, "Why do you keep looking at me?" They giggled and turned away briefly, but they kept it up. A half hour later I said, "Why do you keep looking at me? Do I have a big booger hanging out of my nose or something?" The littlest girl shook her head seriously, said "no," and smiled...and continued to stare at me. I still have no idea why, but the ease with which I asked about the big booger reassured me that maybe I do have what it takes to be a teacher after all.
*I repeat the caveat that these are the ramblings of a sleepy brain, they are just feelings, not rational thoughts. They do not reveal some Deep Big Problem. The only problem is that I am too silly to go to bed on time.
ok, you will see that i have been on a marathon blogging session. i realize I should go to bed, so please take this in context, as the over-tired (and likely PMS-y) ramblings of an out-of-context person.
Generally I have been having a really fun time here, playing scrabble with my dad and talking to all the interesting old people in the dining room.
but tonight we sat with some old guy who must have said about fifteen times (I am not exaggerating) something about "Islamic madrassas" (which he persistently pronounced "Madras") "indoctrinating" people to blow themselves up ("we can't even begin to understand how they think"). For good measure, he threw in Sammuel Hufffington's "clashof civilizatons" PLUS a theory about how white people are smarter because Europe has a change of seasons (!!!)(although I registered my disagreement on each of these points, it was useless to argue, because he couldn't hear well--especially when I disagreed)(this guy a retired professor from Columbia and Berkeley, mind you).
And, Mom is coming home tomorrow and she's getting all crazy (demanding & manipulatively demanding) about the party. I forgot to do something she wanted me to do today, and it's too late now. The inner conflict between "oh no, she's going to be mad" and "f--- that, it's minor, if she's mad she's silly" is depressingly familiar.
Predictable upshot--I am getting tired and lonely. It has been a long time since I had that feeling of being completely alone, invisible almost. People have their own lives and their own concerns and they don't really see you. I think I am more mature than i once was, in that this could be fun for four whole days, but now i miss my Loopy and I want someone to see me. I am afraid Loopy doesn't need me. I'm so glad she's feeling better but I can't help feeling that at best I'm irrelevant to the equation. I need Loopy. Everyone needs someone to see them.*
FUNNY
On the plane on the way here, I was seated on the aisle. In the three seats opposite were three children, approximate ages 7, 9, and 12 (or so). They kept whispering to each other and turning around in their seats to look at me. Not just glance, but stare at me for minutes at a time as if intrigued. Finally I said, "Why do you keep looking at me?" They giggled and turned away briefly, but they kept it up. A half hour later I said, "Why do you keep looking at me? Do I have a big booger hanging out of my nose or something?" The littlest girl shook her head seriously, said "no," and smiled...and continued to stare at me. I still have no idea why, but the ease with which I asked about the big booger reassured me that maybe I do have what it takes to be a teacher after all.
*I repeat the caveat that these are the ramblings of a sleepy brain, they are just feelings, not rational thoughts. They do not reveal some Deep Big Problem. The only problem is that I am too silly to go to bed on time.
whew! in light of the post below...
...it is amusing to note that according to the test, I am also (like Ang) an ENFP, "The Champion," and that the description for that type includes the following:
Which I think describes me better than Ang; I don't know anyone who is as obnoxiously urgent in conversation as I am. :-( It's the thing I hate the most about myself. You'd think I could change it.
"And then they are eager to relate the stories they've uncovered, hoping to disclose the "truth" of people and issues, and to advocate causes. This strong drive to unveil current events can make them tireless in conversing with others, like fountains that bubble and splash, spilling over their own words to get it all out."
Which I think describes me better than Ang; I don't know anyone who is as obnoxiously urgent in conversation as I am. :-( It's the thing I hate the most about myself. You'd think I could change it.
Friday, July 23, 2004
why oh why won't Ang & Katy turn on comments?
I have so much to say, I'm just bursting with responses to GetYourselfSome[NotAtAll]Boring. Hmmmm... well, just maybe they won't turn on comments because they don't want blabberers like me blabbering all over their blog.... quite reasonable really, when you think about it. Or maybe they are just so secure in their fablogitude* that they don't need to know whether anyone is reading or reacting...admirable really, in that case.
OK, in brief.**
Hmmm... Did I mention I had a lot to say to Katy and Ang?
Am I lonely in Arizona? Oh yes, oh yes I am. I want to go home.
* This is supposed to be a contraction of "fabulous" + "blog" (and maybe "attitude"). It's a new word; I made it myself. I'm hoping it will catch on and everyone will say it, and then I'll feel all warm & happy.
** Ha! Ha! Ha!
*** Sorry about the stupid, adolescent joke.
**** Doesn't this sound like some stupid dream? Maybe even a made-up dream? But no, it really, actually happened.
***** And when I was three, I fell down and got an owie. (Hey, read the tag line above, it says "feel free to skim!")
OK, in brief.**
- I love Katy. Katy is hilarious and she does some of the same things I do (like playing stupid computer games until we physically injure ourselves....) that I used to think were evidence of my complete insanity, but since Katy does them too, I know it must be OK because Katy is clearly not insane, in fact she is wonderful and very Together. Anyway I love Katy, and why didn't I know this before? (No slight to Ang, but I already knew I loved Ang, who is also hilarious, wonderful and Together, no, don't try to deny it, you are).
- Mnemonic devices. I love the Steve Holz one. In high school had one for the countries across the top of Latin America, which I don't really remember, but had something to do with French (French Guiana) kissing Simon (Suriname) LeBon of Duran Duran (horrors!). I even think that the "V" in Venezuela might have been my own name (the horror deepens!)
- Illyria. Please tell me what this reference is to. Is it to Twelfth Night? Because (ok, get out your in-flight barf bags) my mother's maiden (how un-PC) name was "Ely," and someone in her family named a town in Ohio after himself, "Elyria," and it was supposed to be a pun on "Illyria," but I don't get it. (Obviously I am a disgrace to pompous rich people everywhere, at least I hope I am). Oh, and don't mention APT in Spr Green to Sir Edwin if you don't want to hear a tirade about the time we went to see something there and it rained. A lot.
- Famous supposedly-but-not-to-Ang attractive people...
- Re Kirsten Dunst - i think she's pretty but Loopy says she always looks...damp. I think this is really funny and, yes, well, I guess true. Loopy points out that Tobey Maguire also always looks damp, and the two of them together in Spiderman are very very damp, practically mossy.
- To this list I would also like to add (in fact I think he should be the King of this list)--Jack Nicholson. Ugh, ick, ack, puke, arg.
- Re Kirsten Dunst - i think she's pretty but Loopy says she always looks...damp. I think this is really funny and, yes, well, I guess true. Loopy points out that Tobey Maguire also always looks damp, and the two of them together in Spiderman are very very damp, practically mossy.
- Saved... We saw it too... (see my post thereon if you wish, here). Anyway, the main thing is, Loopy, isn't your sister also AG? Just checking. I don't know if she ever read your diary, but I can easily imagine her doing so--no offense Sister P, if you are reading this. You know I love you.
- Ang is coming! No, shut up, I mean, to ASA!*** I'm so happy I could do cartwheels! I think this will be so much fun! I was so disappointed when everyone (to my knowledge) who was initially planning to go, all dropped out one by one. Of course I would love being in SF with my Loopy with or without additional company, but this will be extra fun. We had a good time there the last 2 times we went--gosh, this will be our third time together--doesn't that make you feel Old and Married? (hey, remember when we stayed in that place that was advertsised as a charming, antique-decorated B&B, and it turned out to be a musty refurbished Y with tacky flea-market furniture and a Glade plug-in feebly trying to cover the weird smells? And the whole Brazilian national soccer team was staying there, because the World Cup was in SF, but we hadn't known that...? No wait, the Brazilian team was on the GOlden Gate Bridge when we went, but it was the fans, zillions of them, who were staying in the post-Y hotel...)**** ANYWAY!!!! We're gonna have a blast! Yippee!
- And then there are these posts, to which I just want to say, LOL and you girls rock.
- Sociologists: 0; Most Reasonable People: 1
- Studying for your PCP I know Loopy can relate to this.
- Undergrads in the rain God I hate them sometimes!!! One of the worst things about MSN. ANd is it my imagination, or are there more of them this summer than previous years? This is supposed to be our respite.... when we can find parking, and drive around without them stepping off the curb in front of us with their headphones on.
- Sociologists: 0; Most Reasonable People: 1
- Vegeschnitzel. This reminded me of a conversation I had in NYC shortly after I shaved my head. I left one chin-length strand of hair over my right temple that I usually braided (although for my wedding it was curled in a corkscrew...weird). Anyway someone stopped me on the street and asked (imagine a derisive sneer), "What do you call THAT haircut?"
I responded, "A crew cut."
"Oh yeah? What's ... this stuff?" (Motioning on his own head to the vicinity of the single braid).
"That's just to show I'm not a Hare Krishna."
"A what?"
"A Hare Krishna."
(Looking shocked) "A...?? well...do you still believe in God?"
"No--er--I'm NOT a Hare Krishna."
As Katy said... ?????? - And the hits keep coming... End of innocence... A "stupid pop song" it may be but I love this song, and I desperately want the version you describe, since half of those people are some of my favorite artists. (Yes, I'm a huge cheeseball, so sue me.) This also provokes a funny memory...(which I know you just can't wait to hear...)***** Anyway, one warm spring morning when I was in college, my dear roommate Amy and I were looking out the window at the courtyard in our dorm, and a guy we knew slightly flopped down and stretched out on the lawn. (He was kind of a jerk, one of those guys who thinks that insistent, oppressive, loudmouthed cynicism is a sign of brilliance and perspicacity). Anyway my roommate says, "Andrew's laying his head back on the ground..." to which I of course responded, "And letting his hair fall all around." We laughed hysterically (hey, I said we were in college, ok, give me a break)(partly it was funny because he didn't have more than 2.5 inches of hair, three at the most, and partly because he was such a snarky brat and it contrasted so with the song...). And ever since then I think of Amy and spring (and Andrew, but in a funny way) when I hear the song.
- A Durian by any other name... I like your name a lot too, and agree that it's "pretty and not too ordinary." On your list, I have always liked the name "Marisol" for exactly the same reason. "Luz" and "Idalis" are also cool names. But I have to ask, did your parents think you were going to be born Puerto Rican? Ok, Ok, shoot me now. As for my name... Hmmmm, thanks for the suggestion (and for reading my blog at all, I was happy!), but to me "Gin" sounds like a drink, and the Japanese pronunciation has a hard "G," and also in the context of the language it sounds kind of hard and cold--it's not a nice word like "silver" in English. It's part of the words for "bank" and other monetary-related words. But this does remind me that in Japan my friends used to call me "Jinia," which I really liked (my real name comes out in Japanese as "BAH-jinia," and "Bah" is a syllable used in words relating unfavorably to old women). And this reminds me that my above-mentioned college roommate, the indefatigable Amerina, used to call me "Ginia," which I really really liked and had totally forgotten. I miss everybody. I'm lonely. I should go to bed.
Hmmm... Did I mention I had a lot to say to Katy and Ang?
Am I lonely in Arizona? Oh yes, oh yes I am. I want to go home.
* This is supposed to be a contraction of "fabulous" + "blog" (and maybe "attitude"). It's a new word; I made it myself. I'm hoping it will catch on and everyone will say it, and then I'll feel all warm & happy.
** Ha! Ha! Ha!
*** Sorry about the stupid, adolescent joke.
**** Doesn't this sound like some stupid dream? Maybe even a made-up dream? But no, it really, actually happened.
***** And when I was three, I fell down and got an owie. (Hey, read the tag line above, it says "feel free to skim!")
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Blogger helps me with all my problems
Ha ha... this is funny.
Blogger help topic: What to do if your Mom discovers your blog..."
I am a bit leery here, for obvious reasons, but it was pure coincidence that I came upon this. (What I was trying to find out is how to make my layout show up in browsers that don't support CSS. Anybody know? I think there is a tag like or something, but I can't quite remember...)
Blogger help topic: What to do if your Mom discovers your blog..."
I am a bit leery here, for obvious reasons, but it was pure coincidence that I came upon this. (What I was trying to find out is how to make my layout show up in browsers that don't support CSS. Anybody know? I think there is a tag like
in a galaxy far, far away
Well, here I am in Arizona. Here is my week in a nut's hell:
Some other items of note:
- Tuesday: Dad couldn't find me in the airport, walked around for almost an hour as I waited by the baggage claim (luggage did not appear for 45 minutes), then almost collapsed as he returned to the car.
- Wednesday: I took Dad to the doctor, who said he had had a TIA (a sort of almost-stroke) and set him up to have his head examined (also his neck and heart).
- Thursday: Mom left to attend a funeral in Montana. I would also like to attend this funeral, but I have to look after Dad, which is fine because my back probably couldn't take that much plane travel anyway.
- Friday: I will take Dad to have his head examined. Also his neck.
- Saturday: I will take Dad to some Republican meeting. Dad's friend wants him to attend because apparently these meetings have been overrun with immigrant-hating, gay-bashing maniacs, and she thinks Dad will provide a useful counterpoint (uh... right). I am desperately hoping I don't have to actually attend the meeting!!!!
- Saturday, later: Mom returns from Montana and immediately five thousand people come over for a big party in my honor. Maybe nobody will notice if I don't go...
- Sunday: I get to have breakfast with some dear friends from high school, yippee!! (Too bad Sunday--i.e., during church--was the ONLY TIME they could meet me! Aw, shucks!)
- Monday: I go to Atlanta. (I haven't thought past that.)
Some other items of note:
- HOT: I forgot how hot it is here. At 10:30 this morning it was already over 100 degrees. Everyone here is used to it, so even indoors it's hotter than it is outdoors in Wisconsin (76 degrees in here right now, apparently). I am not used to it anymore.
- ELECTRONICS: Mom told me to take Dad to the store on the way home from the airport, and get him to get her a digital camera, photo printer, and misc accessories. Woo-hoo! Then we went to McDonald's.
- OLD: Some of the "old people" around here are really interesting. No, really. Of course some of them are also self-absorbed and boring. Gosh, just like regular folks!
- PHONE: Loopy just called me, so I will go now. She better have a good excuse for not calling me last night (she is telling me she couldn't find the phone... should I believe her? What do you think?)
Friday, July 16, 2004
miscellaneous photos
OK, I finally figured out how to upload my own photos (instead of just stealing photos from other sites). (here's info for Mac users on how to post photos to your Blogger blog).
They've turned out sort of grainy, but I hope you can still see them.
Here is a close-up of the phoebe babies, the day before they flew the coop:
Here's a picture of an all-out blackberry assault on the lawn, as discussed previously:
Gracie's in the background, but as usual she's no help whatsoever in the face of this blatant threat.
Here are some photos of slugs destroying my beloved peach-leaved bellflowers, also
as discussed previously:
And last but not least, the brand new TiVo-esque satellite receiver, after the doggies had had their way with it:
They've turned out sort of grainy, but I hope you can still see them.
Here is a close-up of the phoebe babies, the day before they flew the coop:
Here's a picture of an all-out blackberry assault on the lawn, as discussed previously:
Gracie's in the background, but as usual she's no help whatsoever in the face of this blatant threat.
Here are some photos of slugs destroying my beloved peach-leaved bellflowers, also
as discussed previously:
 | |
| slug on white bellflower...ugh | |
 |  |
| slug on purple bellflower - you can see the damaged petals on top, in comparison to the lower flowers he hasn't attacked yet | closeup in case it's hard to see |
And last but not least, the brand new TiVo-esque satellite receiver, after the doggies had had their way with it:
Viggo Mortensen's ding-blasted tooth
Since Ang & Katy don't allow comments, I'll respond to their blog here.*
In a July 14 post, Ang commented that "after hearing (six times) that only through a thorough investigation of the DVD extras did V learn that Viggo Mortensen chipped a tooth in the making of one of the three LOTR films," she figured it was ok to "let [her] guard down" and (implication is) admit to knowing similarly geeky things (for more details and the Dorotha reference, see the post itself!)
I'm glad that I was able to inspire Ang by informing her of Viggo Mortensen's dental work (up to now I was only aware of having annoyed her—which is fine, because annoying people was the purpose of mentioning it six times).
But I must point out that a "thorough investigation" was not needed... since every single person who appears in the extras on the Twin (er, Two) Towers seems to feel compelled to make a big friggin' deal about VM's friggin' chipped tooth (did you know he had it fixed in the middle of the night? by Peter Jackson's own dentist? while still wearing his costume including his sword? Aaak, stop, I can't take any more!!!).
*All for the best, as my response got to be incredibly long...it seems that all my long-pent-up feelings about Viggo Mortensen have just come pouring out.... did I mention I'm supposed to be writing a paper?
**in fact, when you do a google image search for Bernard Hill, half the damn pictures are of... guess who. What, does he think he's the star or something?
In a July 14 post, Ang commented that "after hearing (six times) that only through a thorough investigation of the DVD extras did V learn that Viggo Mortensen chipped a tooth in the making of one of the three LOTR films," she figured it was ok to "let [her] guard down" and (implication is) admit to knowing similarly geeky things (for more details and the Dorotha reference, see the post itself!)
I'm glad that I was able to inspire Ang by informing her of Viggo Mortensen's dental work (up to now I was only aware of having annoyed her—which is fine, because annoying people was the purpose of mentioning it six times).
But I must point out that a "thorough investigation" was not needed... since every single person who appears in the extras on the Twin (er, Two) Towers seems to feel compelled to make a big friggin' deal about VM's friggin' chipped tooth (did you know he had it fixed in the middle of the night? by Peter Jackson's own dentist? while still wearing his costume including his sword? Aaak, stop, I can't take any more!!!).
Since I have, in fact, completed a "thorough investigation" of the DVD extras, I feel compelled to say that VM—and unfortunately, everyone else involved in the LOTR—are all just a bit too filled with admiration for VM. Yes, he made a great (possibly perfect) Aragorn, but he seems to have a similar personality in real life—and in real life, that laid-back earnestness tinged with understated machismo gets incredibly annoying (just look at the picture! Jesus H. Christ!)
Below is a photo of three non-Viggo actors from LOTR apparently behaving like regular people. Can you imagine how completely unbearable they would be if they went around behaving like Legolas, Gandalf and Theoden in real life? The mind boggles.
Orlando Bloom, Ian McKellan, and Bernard Hill are not Viggo Mortensen, and thank god for that
To be honest, if I never hear VM's voice again (outside of his role as A in LOTR, which of course I will view repeatedly for the rest of the decade), that will be just fine with me. Now, Bernard whatsit (Ok, Hill, I had to look it up), who plays Theoden—I don't think people paid him nearly enough homage.** Which is perhaps as it should be.... too much homage makes the skin crawl .
*All for the best, as my response got to be incredibly long...it seems that all my long-pent-up feelings about Viggo Mortensen have just come pouring out.... did I mention I'm supposed to be writing a paper?
**in fact, when you do a google image search for Bernard Hill, half the damn pictures are of... guess who. What, does he think he's the star or something?
Thursday, July 15, 2004
sueños animales
several items on this topic:
And that's all I have to say about dreaming of animals, or animals' dreams...... anyway, animals at night.
- there are now more fireflies, lots more, like I remember from last year, all over the place. it's glorious. Loopy & I watched them from the hot tub tonight. (yes, this is the life!)
- the baby phoebes flew away the day after I took the picture. be well little birdies!
- last night I saw the strangest thing. I was bringing the dogs in to go to bed and I saw a shape on one of the bird feeders. Weird, I thought--either a dead bird, or a bat, or a leaf. I went to check it out with the flashlight. It was a flying squirrel!!
(plus two more skittering around the tree). As I approached it jumped from the bird feeder to the tree (a surprising distance--I guess that's why they call it...yeah) and skittered off. As you can see from the picture, it is an eerie little creature--the big eyes give it a very creepy look. It was unnerving but also very cool. I want it to come back! but no sign of them tonight.
- last night I dreamed I had this beautiful chestnut horse, and I had to go into some swanky dean's office at Harvard and take some kind of IQ test, but I didn't want to leave the horse by himself. This horse acted like a dog--it was very distressed that I was inside, and it ran around outside in an agitated state trying to find me, and I kept seeing it through the windows, freaking out and trying to get in, or wandering off. I kept having to interrupt the test (which I was totally failing anyway--it was impossible--something about tartar sauce and lemon juice or something) to go and calm the horse down or try to make it comfortable. It was very funny! But also weird. Is Loopy infecting me with her MFpre-prelim panic? (For those who don't read Loopy's blog, she has to take a major exam on Aug 2 and she's, shall we say, just a tad nervous about it).
- our new satellite receiver finally arrived, which is like TiVo and lets us record stuff!!!, but the dogs ripped the package apart and strewed it around the yard. I hope to post a picture because I imagine it will be quite amusing if it's not YOUR receiver lying there in the dirt.
- I finally found out what has been eating my beloved peach-leaved bellflower...
Many of the flowers are chewed right down to the stem as soon as they bloom. I had suspected some kind of insect infestation, but no, it's.......... SLUGS!!!!! eeew!!! I was out early today and caught the little monsters in the act. I hope to post a photo of a slug in a flower (I took several, photos that is). I don't like to kill them, for some reason, but I did kill one and went back to bed feeling like a destroyer of small life forms.
- lately a bat has been roosting in the carport where I can look up at it. They are so cute, crammed up in little spaces. I love them! Most people apparently are afraid of bats but not moths. Not me. A bat can fly right past my head without causing me the slightest alarm, but a really big moth, man, that'll send me screaming. Because, you know, bats are smart and would never fly into you, but those damn moths fly all up in your face and flutter everywhere.... aak! When I was a summer camp counselor, a moth the size of a dinner plate got into the house, and I locked myself in the bathroom until it was over. Some counselor, eh!
nice bat scary moth
And that's all I have to say about dreaming of animals, or animals' dreams...... anyway, animals at night.
i don't like my name
a friend put a link to my blog on her blog using my name, which is totally not a problem. but, it just set me to thinking about how I don't like my name, and about some nicknames I've had--mostly only in the context of soccer.
When I was little my name was Ginna. My parents fully expected that I would always be Ginna (like the grandmother I was named after), but it annoyed me that nobody could spell or pronounce my name (always spelled or read as "Gina"). So in 2nd grade I decided I would use my whole name, and refused to answer to anything else (it has been pointed out to me that such behavior would not have been tolerated in many other families).*
Some of my friends have called me Ginny, but I really really hate that name (rhymes with "ninny"). Just a few particular people have permission to call me that because the way they say it (or the history of it) makes it ok. One person called me "Ginna" in college, but I don't think she's called me that recently. I liked how she said it too.
WHen I went off on my afore-mentioned Asian odyssey I tried to go back to "Ginna," but when people called me that I felt 6 years old, which isn't a good thing when you're all by yourself on the other side of the world.
A couple years ago I toyed with the idea of changing my name to Jenna. Sort of a combo of "Ginna" and "Jen," a name I like and that always seemed sort of strong and capable. My real name seems sort of socially inept/oblivious, bookish in a bad way, geeky and goofy and nearsighted. Wait a minute, that describes my most negative image of myself on a bad day--maybe it's me I dislike, rather than my name...
Someone in Nepal commented that "Ginna" sounded to him like "djinn," an angel or spirit in some part of the world (apparently there are numerous dogs and helicopters named "Djinn," according to the Google image search)(also via the Google image search, I realized that "djinn" is the source of the word "genie"--duh). Anyway, I kinda like that...
A djinn:
(complete with various isms)
OK, sorry this post was a bit long and perhaps dull..... but I found that trying to always post fabulous stuff means I don't post much at all.
Next week i have to go to Tucson and visit my family, and I"ve just found out that XE won't be there. :-( :-( More on that another time, I guess.
* (That's not as bad as the times when I was younger...or maybe not...and used to "become" someone else. First it was Mrs. VonTrapp and then Princess Leia. In both cases I would not respond unless addressed as "Mrs. Von Trapp" or "Maria," and later, "Your Highness." I would "go away" (literally leave through the front door) and be "replaced" by one of these alter egos (ringing the doorbell with a story about how I arrived, e.g., my spaceship crashed and I'm running away from storm troopers). I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing that my family indulged these little whim(sie)s......)
- "Battleship"- My 4th-grade soccer coach called me this because I mowed people down (many of you will readily believe that this was through obliviousness as much as aggression).
- "Dakota" - My 5th- and 6th-grade soccer coach called me this because my name is also a state. Sometimes he would call me other states too (Carolina, Kentucky...).
- "V"--on my high school soccer team. Also sometimes "V-baby" or "V-8." "V" is not bad as a nickname, but it has never caught on otherwise. (Although, as a joke, some of my classmates in the teacher ed program call me "V-Dogg.")
When I was little my name was Ginna. My parents fully expected that I would always be Ginna (like the grandmother I was named after), but it annoyed me that nobody could spell or pronounce my name (always spelled or read as "Gina"). So in 2nd grade I decided I would use my whole name, and refused to answer to anything else (it has been pointed out to me that such behavior would not have been tolerated in many other families).*
Some of my friends have called me Ginny, but I really really hate that name (rhymes with "ninny"). Just a few particular people have permission to call me that because the way they say it (or the history of it) makes it ok. One person called me "Ginna" in college, but I don't think she's called me that recently. I liked how she said it too.
WHen I went off on my afore-mentioned Asian odyssey I tried to go back to "Ginna," but when people called me that I felt 6 years old, which isn't a good thing when you're all by yourself on the other side of the world.
A couple years ago I toyed with the idea of changing my name to Jenna. Sort of a combo of "Ginna" and "Jen," a name I like and that always seemed sort of strong and capable. My real name seems sort of socially inept/oblivious, bookish in a bad way, geeky and goofy and nearsighted. Wait a minute, that describes my most negative image of myself on a bad day--maybe it's me I dislike, rather than my name...
Someone in Nepal commented that "Ginna" sounded to him like "djinn," an angel or spirit in some part of the world (apparently there are numerous dogs and helicopters named "Djinn," according to the Google image search)(also via the Google image search, I realized that "djinn" is the source of the word "genie"--duh). Anyway, I kinda like that...
A djinn:
 |
(complete with various isms)
OK, sorry this post was a bit long and perhaps dull..... but I found that trying to always post fabulous stuff means I don't post much at all.
Next week i have to go to Tucson and visit my family, and I"ve just found out that XE won't be there. :-( :-( More on that another time, I guess.
* (That's not as bad as the times when I was younger...or maybe not...and used to "become" someone else. First it was Mrs. VonTrapp and then Princess Leia. In both cases I would not respond unless addressed as "Mrs. Von Trapp" or "Maria," and later, "Your Highness." I would "go away" (literally leave through the front door) and be "replaced" by one of these alter egos (ringing the doorbell with a story about how I arrived, e.g., my spaceship crashed and I'm running away from storm troopers). I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing that my family indulged these little whim(sie)s......)
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
things about loopy that are just so darn cute
This will be a short post, but I expect to add to it. It is not short because of a shortage of material, but because I really need to go to bed. OK.
Although now I feel a bit overloaded on cute and wonder if I should post instead about "Loopy's top ten moments of sheer genius" or maybe about her being sexy or irritable... we shall see!!!!
- Loopy loves lunch and whenever she talks about it she just gets so cute. "It's time for lunch!" You can't even imagine how cute.
- When she asks for something indulgent (i.e. she's already in bed and doesn't want to get up and wants a glass of water... with ice) she really turns on the cute. It's irresistible. She knows this. It's hardly fair.
- Last night we had this conversation: "Snorgleflunguss." "Hrmphensnrmphen?" "Gleebleglobguz." "Arglepupgle?" "Urglemorgleflinglepungle." Yes, we were meant for each other.
- Sometimes Loopy makes up adorable little songs. One of the best ever was called "the Bunny Opera." It involved me singing "bunny, bunny, bunny, bunny" over and over (the harmony) while Loopy sang the melody (improvised and fabulous warbling about Bunnies). This was such a fabulous song that there were no more songs for many months thereafter. Another classic was called, "If I were an ice cream."
- Once Loopy had an inflatable pink pool floaty ring, which she took to the beach. It was the cutest thing ever in the history of the universe.
- Loopy likes to watch the bread dough flopping around in the bread machine. It is cute, flopping around, and she is cute watching it.
- Loopy is so cute when she has made something yummy--it makes her happy to watch you eat it. She made cinammon rolls yesterday, YUM! I eat them because they're delicious, but I secretly admit that I also eat them because she looks so cute and happy when I do!
- Loopy's blog has a "weather pixie" on it--very cute! And here is a particularly cute post.
- There will be more items added to this list. Stay tooned.
Although now I feel a bit overloaded on cute and wonder if I should post instead about "Loopy's top ten moments of sheer genius" or maybe about her being sexy or irritable... we shall see!!!!
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Berry berry
A conversational counterpoint to the hilarious snippet that Loopy posted last week...*
Loopy: "All the raspberries at the edge of the yard are getting really ripe."
Me: "Those are blackberries, so no, they're not."
This reminds me of a conversation last year (?) with Dorotha:
Me: "We have to cut back the blackberries, they're creeping in from the woods and taking over the yard."
Dorotha: "But that would be a good thing."
Me: "Well, it would all just be nothing but blackberry."
Dorotha: "Yes. The whole world should be nothing but blackberry. All blackberry, all the time."
So Dorotha, do you really love blackberries that much or were you just being amusing?
*By the way, the ban on linking to my blog is now officially lifted. I feel I have gotten the hang of it and am worthy to be linked to. Do not disillusion me.
Loopy: "All the raspberries at the edge of the yard are getting really ripe."
Me: "Those are blackberries, so no, they're not."
This reminds me of a conversation last year (?) with Dorotha:
Me: "We have to cut back the blackberries, they're creeping in from the woods and taking over the yard."
Dorotha: "But that would be a good thing."
Me: "Well, it would all just be nothing but blackberry."
Dorotha: "Yes. The whole world should be nothing but blackberry. All blackberry, all the time."
So Dorotha, do you really love blackberries that much or were you just being amusing?
*By the way, the ban on linking to my blog is now officially lifted. I feel I have gotten the hang of it and am worthy to be linked to. Do not disillusion me.
procrastinatory pocky meditations
i'm supposed to be preparing my final presentation for class tomorrow. Naturally I'm blogging instead.
Loopy came home from her ultra-cool blogging girls dinner and brought me a treat--a whole bag of pocky!! unfortunately it is thai pocky
and tastes really awful.
Pocky always reminds me of two strange things.
Pocky Thing One: I bought Pocky in Japan to eat on the plane to Bangkok as I headed off for my post-college Asia odyssey (whence I know that Indian Cadbury tastes awful too--I was told they put something in it to keep it from melting. I'm guessing recycled plastic. Perhaps Thai pocky has the same problem?). I know I already felt disoriented and a little freaked out, and the Pocky was a nice familiar touchstone. For some reason, I looped the plastic bag with pocky in it through my belt loop--so I had my gigantic euro-trekker backpack, my little waist pack, my passport etc stowed in my money belt under my pants, and then this plastic bag of pocky hanging off my waist like some kind of mountain-climbing equipment.
So while I was sitting on the plane waiting for takeoff, the person across the aisle from me called the flight attendant's attention to this odd-looking thing sticking out from under my chair--a small metal box thing attached to some wires. A crowd of airline personnel soon gathered to examine the thing.
I later noted in my journal that I had busily tried to look like someone who is not a terrorist sitting on a b0mb, but I wasn't sure what that non-look would be. Bizarrely, Bobby McFerrin 's latest hit tune started going through my head, but with altered words... "They find a b0mb underneath your chair, wonder who done put it there. Don't worry...be happy."
Eventually the airline personnel declared, "it's part of the chair," and dispersed. Somehow I didn't feel any more secure. I believe I ate the Pocky at that point.
Pocky Thing Two: Pocky is made by a company called "Glico." Ok, this is really bizarre, but it rhymes with "Biko," and it always used to make this song go through my head, about Steve Biko--by Sweet Honey in the Rock. I just played that song for my "teaching about Africa" class this morning. Weird.
OK, it's one a.m. and I really have to finish up my presentation! Who am I kidding--I really have to START my presentation! aak....
Loopy came home from her ultra-cool blogging girls dinner and brought me a treat--a whole bag of pocky!! unfortunately it is thai pocky
and tastes really awful.
Pocky always reminds me of two strange things.
Pocky Thing One: I bought Pocky in Japan to eat on the plane to Bangkok as I headed off for my post-college Asia odyssey (whence I know that Indian Cadbury tastes awful too--I was told they put something in it to keep it from melting. I'm guessing recycled plastic. Perhaps Thai pocky has the same problem?). I know I already felt disoriented and a little freaked out, and the Pocky was a nice familiar touchstone. For some reason, I looped the plastic bag with pocky in it through my belt loop--so I had my gigantic euro-trekker backpack, my little waist pack, my passport etc stowed in my money belt under my pants, and then this plastic bag of pocky hanging off my waist like some kind of mountain-climbing equipment.
So while I was sitting on the plane waiting for takeoff, the person across the aisle from me called the flight attendant's attention to this odd-looking thing sticking out from under my chair--a small metal box thing attached to some wires. A crowd of airline personnel soon gathered to examine the thing.
I later noted in my journal that I had busily tried to look like someone who is not a terrorist sitting on a b0mb, but I wasn't sure what that non-look would be. Bizarrely, Bobby McFerrin 's latest hit tune started going through my head, but with altered words... "They find a b0mb underneath your chair, wonder who done put it there. Don't worry...be happy."
Eventually the airline personnel declared, "it's part of the chair," and dispersed. Somehow I didn't feel any more secure. I believe I ate the Pocky at that point.
Pocky Thing Two: Pocky is made by a company called "Glico." Ok, this is really bizarre, but it rhymes with "Biko," and it always used to make this song go through my head, about Steve Biko--by Sweet Honey in the Rock. I just played that song for my "teaching about Africa" class this morning. Weird.
OK, it's one a.m. and I really have to finish up my presentation! Who am I kidding--I really have to START my presentation! aak....
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