CANELESS!!!

Yesterday Loopy suddenly announced, "I think I'll stop using my cane."

I had noticed that she doesn't use it at all anymore in the house, and also that her steps outside have gotten steadier. But somehow I hadn't allowed myself to think that she might be able to get rid of it altogether.

Of course I was ecstatic at this news and even more ecstatic when I went to meet her for dinner tonight, to see her walking down the sidewalk... slowly and carefully... but still, walking.

Couldn't wait to tell you. :-)

not sure i can do this

i am so tired.

i can't stop crying.

i keep throwing up out of anxiety.

i know i CAN do this.

the question is where will i find the strength.

yesterday at around 2 i was finally seriously thinking, i can't keep going, i'm gonna quit. i didn't even try ot teach in the afternoon. just played the radio, played some games... yup... once again, i'm that teacher, the one i always hated. that's instructional time i was wasting there!!!

then after school i talked to some of the other teachers and got re-energized. i stayed awhile and got everything organized to FINALLY start teaching science next week. i keep thinking... i know how to teach these kids... i can't let them down. if i left, who would they have instead? god knows...

and if i left they'd have another lesson in how 'bad' they are. when i'm angry i want them to feel bad. when i'm not angry i know that they already do. and that i have keys in my hand to open up different paths for them... that don't involve feeling bad, stupid, inadequate like they do EVERY DAY.

when i wasn't exhausted and angry and miserable i knew, could see so clearly, that all children want to succeed. i still get glimpses of that. i just need to find a way to connect with it.

today when i got up, and all day, i have just felt traumatized, like i can't even think, am just in shock. i have done some productive things around the house but none of my work. it's like my work is on fire... touching it is so painful... brings up all my failures, and predicts more of them, more and more and more and more. i know i have to stop beating up on myself. but we are all so trained to think that if you are failing, you must be punished, and punished some more, until you 'get it together.'

this is how the administration treats us. it's how i treat my kids. it's how i treat myself. it feels like too much to somehow go against all of that.... it's like lifting up a heavy lid on a dark place... i know it would be better if i could let the light in but all i can do is lie here and stare at the walls and cry.

not just a job, an adventure.... aka my own personal circle of hell

supposed to be entering grades... grading is so fucking depressing.
'grades are structuralized violence' says stella mars. everything i've
ever heard anyone say about grading runs thru my head. "high
expectations, don't pull any punches." vs. "be gentle and supportive and
blah blah blah." i'm sure in some alternate universe where people can
think clearly, the two are not mutually exclusive. i just stare dully
at the forms and wonder how it feels to get a D, an F... wonder how to
motivate and inspire the students... kick their asses... not sure what
is needed... some far off voice from that alternate universe of clear
thinking or perhaps mush-headed sentimentality says that kids never
need their asses kicked (later on, Loopy - who lives in that universe of
clear thinking, lucky girl - confirmed that kids never need their asses
kicked). i get so angry at them though.

possibly because i know it's my fault. when they're all there together all
my defensiveness and anger comes out and i yell at them left and right. but when i'm talking to only one or two of them, i feel so much empathy and compassion. one little boy was there after school and i wanted to apologize to him for not making good lesson plans, for not making all of this do-able for him. they are so sweet and little. they don't deserve my anger. but i am full of it and it doesn't have another target.

welcome to the teaching profession, a voice in my head says sarcastically. and i also remember my buddhist teaching that falling flat on your face humbles you and makes you less arrogant, more kind.

just to be extra sadistic, the deadline for having our rooms
completely ready for inspection is tomorrow, same day grades are due.
there are all these things we are supposed to have ready........
student work posted in our rooms.... i have nothing like that to
post.... my students don't do their work and when they do it's
half-assed and not worth posting. aaaaarg.

i know how to do better. i know!!! that's what kills me.

just another day...

(from an email to a friend, hence all the abbrev's etc... just realized i wanted to share this with all my friends so... copy-paste is yr pal lol)

god such a ridiculous day today (w the students)... yest (at school)
was so great... the worst beh probs were absent and
the rest of the students actually did some work! it was awe-inspiring.
i felt like a teacher instead of a babysitter. just a little glimpse
of the promised land!

today i was really tired, and not well prepared.... the lack of
preparation steals all my energy and conviction and i just sort of go
through the motions - the students smell it and run all over me.

on top of that, today i had a meeting about a student, with his foster
mother and the social workers and special ed teachers. the Mom told
everyone that her son was acting up at school because i'm a bad
teacher and the students don't respect me. meanwhile the social worker
was defensive and cranky and wanted to be the expert and make everyone
else feel stupid (me, the parent....). it was kinda hellacious. i was
so mortified about what the parent said that i came back and yelled at
the students.... now i feel bad about it.

and of course the social worker looked in to see if the mom was right abt my room being in disarray... and because of the above-mentioned tiredness and under-preparedness... it was.... damn it all ...

am i losing it??

my passion, my love, my empathy... i don't feel any of it.

i am angry at my students, i resent them, i even hate them, or worse than any of that, as of this moment, i don't feel the slightest motivation to do any work for them, since they don't do any work for me.

i try to point out to myself the mountain of grading that i have to do, which wouldn't exist if they weren't doing *something.*

i also alternate this with beating myself up because i know all the things i have done wrong that have reduced my efficacy and encouraged their chaos:

• if i had graded their homework and given it back to them promptly, or shown any sign that i was even paying attention to whether they did their homework, they would not feel their homework was vanishing into a black hole and would be more motivated to do it.
  
• they also would be more likely to do their homework if i had not had a couple days last week when i was soooo totally unprepared that i just told them to do last night's homework during class... thus punishing those who had done it at home and rewarding those who had not... now at the beginning of each class some of them say, 'we're gonna work on last night's homework, right?'
  
• if i had implemented my consequences more consistently they would not expect to get away with everything all the time.
  
• if i had not given in when they argued i would not have a class full of arguers.
  
• if i had planned my lessons better (or at all) so that they were accessible to all students, the students who struggle more would be more likely to attempt the lessons i'm doing now, which are actually more planned and more accessible.
  
• if i had instituted better routines for transitions, for doing work, etc. we would not spend countless fruitless minutes with me yelling, 'put away your social studies and get out your math! chris! why is your social studies still on your desk? don't answer that - just put it away and get out your math! alexis! put away your social studies! tanya!" - etc.
  
• of course, transitions would also be aided if i would keep to the schedule that i have posted in the room. students used to look at it and try to make it match their reality... now they have given up... i just work on math for a while, then on social studies for a while... and i wonder why they don't move promptly from one subject to the next!

On the other hand... the total, complete, utter, and absolute lack of discipline, focus, commitment, order, follow-thru, ability to sit still and shut up, etc.... is not entirely my fault...

But there are so many books on how to teach discipline, order, etc. to even the toughest kids. I read the books. I didn't do it right. In so many ways.

And now I'm so angry and tired that I don't want to even try.

Although I can also point out to myself that the very discipline and commitment and follow-through whose lack I bemoan in my students.... would mean, for me, continuing to do my job as well as I can even when I don't feel like it. How many times have I said to them, "grownups have to do things they don't enjoy all the time!" (Today it was hot and they were whining and I even yelled, 'grow up!' and 'get over it!' ...)

I used to be their ineffective but at least kind and supportive teacher. Now I'm nothing.

It's the fourth week of school and I haven't started science. That's stupid.

In other news, we have a great new home entertainment system and can't get it to function. We have given in and are hiring a man to make it work. This is galling but if you could just see the remotes (three of them! huge and with totally incomprehensible button labels!) you would immediately see that their operation requires a penis.

it's not just a job, it's an adventure

i am overwhelmed, exhausted and not sure how to go on. but i still love my job. it's hard to explain... it's the challenge, the immense challenge - 'like extreme sports,' i said to one person.

i am not the best teacher in that school. i am not even a good teacher at this point—i am barely teaching. but i will figure it out! i will! i will learn how to teach effectively in this school. i will be the best.

what better way to spend the rest of my life? lol

i love our new neighborhood

I love that it's genuinely diverse. In 30 seconds you can pass two white yuppie-ish gay men negotiating over who has to stand outside the store with the adorable dog ("Pleeeease? I'll buy you something swee-eet!") and a Latino grandmother speaking Spanish with her grandson, who has a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle figure almost half his diminutive size.

Along the same lines, I love that I can walk a block to one convenience store that features Ding-Dongs and a whole aisle of 40-proof liquor; I can walk a block in the other direction to a convenience store that has Entenmann's and Ben & Jerry's.

I love that I can walk just a couple more blocks to a passageway under Lake Shore Drive and out to the park beyond, where the lake this morning was soooo lovely between the trees, glittering with bright sunlight... and then just a few blocks north I can cross back under the Drive. AND at this northerly crossing, there is a lovely little public garden with flowers and fountains.

I love that there's an independent coffee shop just around the corner - AND that it has coffee and pastries that are both better than Starbucks. Also in walking distance are a diner and a Mexican seafood place, neither of which we've tried but both of which look great.

I love that there are garbage cans all over the place for dog poop. I love that there are so many dogs.

The architecture is wonderful and historic. Mmmmmm.

This morning I pulled our new blinds up and sat in the front bay window with my latte and scones and newspapers and email just felt soooooo happy to be here....

I have a ton of work to do for Monday and no idea how I'll get it done... but those few hours in the window this morning were precious.

posting on MadTeach...

fyi... here is the link... the previous post I think is posted in both places verbatim... but have posted a new one on MadTeach and decided to just post there...

first day

wow, today was baaaaad lol. by the end of the day the kids were getting into shoving matches and throwing crayons n balled-up paper around the room, totally ignoring anything i said! fortunately it seems to be bringing out the fighter in me rather than upsetting or depressing me in any way. i'll learn... I know I will learn how to do this...and one day when their little heads are bent over their work I will look back at how far we've come and feel triumphant. actually I can see that they're a great bunch, in spite of it all....just a lot of mischief...

[two hours later]

what am i going to dooooooooooo???? lol...

lots to say but no energy to say it...

...but overall the news is good. was up til 2 working last night, n long day today... exhausted, goin to bed... but underneath the exhaustion i'm optimistic and cheerful... i haven't felt this good in years... just wanted you to know. :-)

at this point in my life

so i tried to get started on those ten weeks of social studies lesson plans today but it was the same old story.

procrastinated a bit. then panicked and flailed - did a bunch of stuff that wasn't important: looked for posters of satellite views of earth; browsed lesson plans on the "American Revolution," purchased $150+ worth of software that helps students learn to use maps. clearly all of those are dumb peripheral things, but why couldn't i see that while i was doing it?

came to the end of the day tired and in despair. why doesn't it get better?

around 9:30 i talked to OLIF (therapist) and finally ate something and started working; yet again i find myself in a very familiar place: finally getting some work done; three choices: keep working and sleep in tomorrow, throwing tomorrow off too; keep working and get up early tomorrow, to be sleepy all day; quit working when i'm actually accomplishing something and just hope that i actually get to bed and make it worthwhile that i quit working.

i'm not trying to abdicate responsibility for my actions but it does feel like i just desperately throw myself at these tasks and hope hope hope that i don't miss.

this might seem grandiose or self-pitying but this song (came up on my iPod) resonates a lot with me.... the 'you' would be my students, who need so much from me that i'm terrified i won't be able to provide:

At this point in my life
I've done so many things wrong I don't know if I can do right
If you put your trust in me I hope I won't let you down
If you give me a chance I'll try

You see it's been a hard road the road I'm traveling on
And if I take your hand I might lead you down the path to ruin
....
right now, right now, I'm doing the best I can
At this point in my life


....
I'm still searching for the light
Won't you put your faith in me
We both know that's what matters
If you give me a chance I'll try

You see I've been climbing stairs but mostly stumbling down
I've been reaching high always losing ground
You see I've been reaching high but always losing ground
You see I've conquered hills but I still have mountains to climb
And right now right now I'm doing the best I can
At this point in my life

At this point in my life
I'd like to live as if only love mattered
As if redemption was in sight
As if the search to live honestly
Is all that anyone needs
No matter if you find it

....
If you can believe in this heart of mine
If you can give it a try
Then I'll reach inside and find and give you
All the sweetness that I have
At this point in my life

--Tracy Chapman, "At This Point in My Life" (New Beginnings)

I guess the last verse I should address to myself. If I can believe in my own heart... I'm trying but I'm only able to keep believing because I have no choice - if I falter I'll be lost. No choice but to hang on.

missing lost things

so i've been kinda crazy since we moved but am finally starting to regain some sanity... probably because the day I was dreading, Aug. 20, finally came and went (yesterday). that was the first day we were allowed in the classroom...

let's see, yesterday. first i panicked for an hour straight in my bathroom. i don't think i hardly moved. i finally snapped out of it, drove to the school, got into my classroom, and proceeded to panic for another hour and a half. to pass the time and soothe myself during this period, i sorted all the construction paper into rainbow order, and alphabetized the envelope of cut-out letters.

today i went back to school and met with one of my fellow fifth-grade teachers (there is one more i haven't met). i learned more about the curriculum (which includes a reading textbook, ugh!) and we agreed to divide up (1) before- and after-school detention duty and (2) lesson planning work. i am to return next wednesday with 10 weeks of social studies lessons; she will provide 10 weeks of math and we hope that the third teacher will provide 10 weeks of reading. this is quite comforting.

not so comforting are some of the stories about some of the students, the fact that the computers don't work and that the leadership seems somewhat disorganized, and the possibility that we will have all the special ed students included in the regular classes BUT without the special ed aids that are an absolute necessity when you do that.

turns out we can't come back until next week, so i will be working in our tiny apartment and/or nearby coffee shop til then, also going to Targét for supplies. hoping i stay on track.

so anyway tonight at meditation my mind kept wandering (so what else is new) and i foudn myself being sad about some of the things we left behind at our house... the compost i worked so hard on for all those seven years... the potted plants, Audrey the jade plant and the nameless but fragrant jasmine... my hellebores... the trail through the woods... even the apple tree that shocked the hell out of me the first time it produced apples... snowy mornings where everything is bright and silent and the dogs are ecstatic in the yard... the bats that talk to each other under the eaves...

and beyond our house, things and people in Madison that I never said a proper goodbye to. we didn't see any of our friends before we left - too hectic. i will always miss my Picnic Point walk... that was really special to me. trout lilies and dutchmen's breeches blooming in spring, the lake lapping at the shore, full of boats in summer... in fall the maple and oak leaves coating the ground, and oh, that stunning sumac.... in winter the frozen lakes were so austerely beautiful... in spring the massive sheets of ice moving inexorably, piling up broken bits at the shore... then there was the 'congress of the birds' in late November/early December as all the migrating waterfowl cruised the lakes for a couple of days - swans flying in fives and sixes, geese by the hundreds, ducks, and all kinds of birds i couldn't even identify, swimming back and forth and round and round, talking amongst themselves... the soughing pine trees, the sharp pine scent that could be smelled even in midwinter...

then there was the beautiful drive home on highway 14 (not a highway really, just a two-lane road)... with the 'diversity farm' (three horses, a pony, a llama and a goat, whose antics Loopy and i always described to each other when we didn't see them together), mellifluous frog choruses in the ditches in spring, all the farms and cows...that one marshy field where there were always goose nests in spring, and once a crane nest, and at the right times of year, often cranes walking around eating, sometimes ducks, hawks too perched on the utility poles... the red-wing blackbirds perched on guardrails and fences, guarding their nests in spring, trilling their territorial calls... the soft spring-green mistiness of the trees getting their new leaves, of which Loopy said our first year, "don't the hills look like you want to pat them with your giant hand?" (after that we always referred to that look as "giant hand time").... there was a bend in Black Earth Creek that i loved - it always reflected the sky and the surrounding marsh grasses so beautifully.

of course there are plenty of things i won't miss. all the restaurants closing at 7 or 8. the electricity going out all the time. tornado warnings. 45 minutes to get anywhere. people who think i'm weird because i'm 'not from around here.' that blatantly stupid and ignorant racism... our basement overflowing with useless crap... our house always out of control, always too much for us.

it's coming up on a year since Loopy's ordeal... i think of it more and more lately. anniversaries are relentless things... there's a lot i didn't really process at the time and i think it's bubbling up now. sadness, loss... another thing we seem to have left behind in Wisconsin... the free-walking Loopy... maybe she'll be back, but it seems less likely as the months pass... so she remains in the past, in Wisconsin, in New York, in Arizona, in the rooms we've already passed through, the homes we've already lived in, the places and times that won't come back.

it's way too late, well past my bed time... tomorrow i have to get up and plan 10 weeks of social studies. this doesn't seem daunting. it's just work, and i know how to do it. crossing my fingers that i feel that way in the morning. i know blogging was partly just to procrastinate on going to bed, and to distract me from my anxiety, but i don't think it's all bad, as it connects me to real friends... thank you for reading. from time to time it feels extremely lonely here.

OMFG

Monday is the big day... I am starting to panic... I went shopping two weeks ago and bought a bunch of clothes for school... I felt so full of foresight and competence... but I forgot/didn't think/procrastinated on having the pants hemmed... I just put them in at the cleaners and they will take a week!!! What will I wear for the first week????

Part of my brain is berating me for not having taken them in sooner. THe other part of my brain is berating me for having taken them in today - "you should have just worn them long - it's better to look like you didn't have your pants hemmed, than to show up in jeans!" Aaaaaagh.

As I was really hitting max panic mode, I happened to be driving past Wrigley Field. The streets were crammed with fans and suddenly a huge roar went up from the stadium. Then the Thunderbirds zoomed past overhead (as they've been doing all day because of the Air & Water Show on the lakefront). I watched a traffic cop and a cab driver having a battle of wills. There was a faint glimmer of joy that we are in a city, we are in a city, we are in a real city, amen.

But.... my pants!!!!!!!!!

our new place

so on a more positive note... here is our new building:



and here is a closeup of our portion of the building, specifically the lower left - the first floor and basement (er, "garden level" ha ha).

two weeks...

it is really, really, really hard to believe that it has only been two weeks since i loaded the dogs in the car and backed down the driveway (the moving truck prevented me from turning around), taking the last pictures of our house...

it feels like an eternity.

i don't necessarily feel any regrets or pinings for the house or for life in Wisconsin... but ohhhhhh I miss my best WI friend, Miriam.... and I just miss being somewhere familiar, or maybe just somewhere where the light comes in the windows at SOME point during the day!!!

it has been a roller coaster since we got here... i am finally certain of my job and our new place, but there have been days when we thought we would have to start all over again on each one. i am exhausted with all the uncertainty.

i don't have any information on my new job (curriculum, classroom, nothing) and apparently I won't have any until Aug. 20 when teachers are allowed into the building. so i'm just waiting... waiting... waiting... it's really agonizing.

i am anxious and obsessive... i only feel i have a choice between obsessing about how i might fuck up at my new job... or finding something else to obsess over... the "something else" has not been any fun... i've been crying too much and talking to my therapist too much... $$$$$

i will not be at all sorry when this month is over... god when this week is over! next week i will at least have something real to obsess over... the new job will take all of my time and attention and i CANNOT WAIT!!!!!!

i am going to meditation soon... have been going at the chicago center... it doesn't necessarily help but it doesn't hurt either....

moving...

movin, movin on; movin, movin on
i been 'buked, i been scorned, i been talked about sure as you're born
but i'm movin, movin on; movin, movin on
--Sweet Honey in the Rock

and for some reason "rawhide" also keeps going through my head, with slightly different words:

movin movin movin, keep those doggies movin
movin movin movin, rawHIDE!

Mostly I'm glad to be moving. Yesterday as I finished cleaning the hot tub and started it refilling, I came into the house and said, "Never again, lovey, never again - if I ever start talking about wanting a house again, talk me out of it." It's too much damn work. "It's the perfect capitalist plot - the nuclear family in a giant house, keeps 'em too busy to be politically active or informed."

But this morning when I went out to put chemicals in the hot tub and start it up again, there was a tiny green frog in it, almost motionless from cold. And the sun was just getting high enough to stream through the leaves and I looked down the wooded hillside into the valley and allowed myself to feel how close to paradise this spot is. I took some pictures and though I didn't weep I felt like it.

bird... almost... in... hand... orflyingatmyheadfast

So it seems I have the job. Almost. I can go on down and sign the contract as soon as I get my Illinois license in the mail. Which was supposed to be four days ago. So I'm a bit anxious about that... I won't feel secure about having the job until I have that signed paper in my hand.

On the plus side, we are close to being ready for the move (on Tuesday). It's kind of astonishing really. Well, not so astonishing, since it's thanks to Loopy's incredible hard work—she did almost everything herself. I am miserable with guilt over the fact that she had to do all that (at a fairly high cost—she was often in pain at the end of a day of packing) and I hardly did anything on the house. I can't wait to get out of here and try to forget about that.

I am alternately excited and petrified about my job. And did I tell you, they actually seem to have hired me for fifth grade?!? I'm licensed to teach grades 6-12 but they hired me for 5th! Slightly mysterious.

Fifth grade... when the sixth graders come in in the fall, they're already so infantile that I don't know what to do with them... their noses run, their pencils fall on the floor... I have still less idea how I'll handle all these little baby fifth graders! When it occurred to me that I'll have to do things like Halloween parties and birthday cupcakes, my heart just sank.

On the plus side, I should still be taller than most of them, which is always helpful.

So... yes... hurtling toward destiny at an increasing speed...

I've done—and tomorrow am doing again—a session of EMDR, a type of semi-hypnosis that is supposed to help you get over your issues.... it seems to help a little. I just don't want to go back to the same old same old, self-sabotaging crap. I owe it to my future students and their families.... I owe it to me.

Huh. I remember going to confession in Japan and the priest shocked me by telling me I should pray for my future husband. I balked and he said, "oh, you may laugh, but believe me he's out there somewhere right now." I sputtered and wasn't able to answer... not because I was thinking of marrying a woman but because I intended at that time in my life to become a nun!

But, while a future husband is not in my cards, my future students really are out there somewhere, walking around, having their summers... They're real... they're out there... and they and I are on a collision course...

It's just a weird way to think of it...

On a more amusing note, Loopy came across some Star Trek fan fiction I wrote in elementary school! "I flipped through it and saw 'Mr. Spock' and I just thought, 'Ohhhhh no...'" she reports. We both find this hilarious.

at the risk of seeming negative...

...these things also suck.

While unpacking the contents of our kitchen cupboards, which I brought with me this trip to reduce cargo on the next trip, I discovered that a bottle of green food coloring broke inside the bag. While I was able to remove it from the countertop, sink, and floor, I cannot seem to get it off my hands, despite soap and scrubbing. Paradoxically, it continues to rub off on things I touch, leaving little green smears hither and yon.

This will definitely win me points in any job-interview-type situation.



As Loopy and I often say to each other, "you may think it's funny, but it's snot."

Also, I am really, really going to miss my front-loading washer. I've already lost one bra to the violence of the top-loader downstairs. I will also miss having laundry facilities in my own abode, reducing the incidence of socks and embarrassing undergarments draping themselves in public areas. And I will miss having a functional dishwasher.

*sigh* I'm spoiled I guess.

Do you think that the guy in the laundry room really wanted my number to tell me when his loads would be done, or because I'm not wearing a bra?

UPDATE: damn it all, now I have green food coloring on my tank top! arg! on the plus side, I can illustrate this and the previous point at the same time:



And because of the green-smudge problem, I had to change my laundry with gloves on. Fortunately I had a pair handy! lol

this sucks

sigh. so the whole "hurry up n get certified" thing is dragging on and on. turns out i needed more paperwork. so i FedExed that. six harrowing days later, they confirmed that they had all my paperwork. that was two days ago. no word from anyone at all, other than that.

today i had another job fair (thought i'd better go since i don't seem to have a "bird in the hand" after all). i stood in line to talk to the guy from the Illinois State Board of Ed, who coincidentally was the same guy who had emailed me. he was very reassuring, said that all my paperwork looked to be in order and that they will most likely send my certification in the mail next week.

which is great except that i'm moving next week. *sigh*

then i went to the table of the school that has semi-tentatively-almost-offered to hire me. they seemed happy to see me but said they weren't sure they were going to have funding for my position after all. of course, i am now tortured by the worry that that is just a nice way of saying "we found someone else," or worse, "you have been emailing us constantly since we made the non-offer and now we think you're insane."

the rest of the job fair was ok; i only really got revved up at the end and made a smashingly good impression on the last few people. unfortunately or fortunately, the one who liked me the best works with a program to teach incarcerated minors between their arraignment and trial. so the student population is constantly changing. i don't mind the incarcerated part, it's the constant flux that i think would drive me nuts.

then i came back to our little apartment (which actually seems to be shrinking, the more i contemplate living here with 2 dogs) and everything in the bathroom is wet.

i just sorted my laundry this morning, intending to do it this afternoon, and so it was in two large heaps on the floor. now they are both wet.

so is everything on the shelves over the toilet.

the thing that proves that this isn't some kind of strange condensation event is that the hallway rug is also soaking wet and draped over the side of the bathtub, a state and location decidedly different from this morning when i left.

i call the maintenance man. he explains there was a leak upstairs and he came down to do damage control.

considering that he apparently mopped the floor and wiped off everything on the shelves and otherwise cleaned up all the water, i can't complain. but it does sorta bother me to have someone in here while i'm out...

especially since there was a giant dildo sitting on the sink.

let's just hope he did not have any opportunity to discover that it glows in the dark.

so anyway. then i realize i don't have quarters to do my laundry, so i go get some from my car, and when i get back, a guy is just putting his in. he promises to call me when he's done. great.

i was supposed to go back to WI tonight and i'm dreading the drive. i'm also dreading coming back here alone next week while Loopy stays in Msn for the closing etc. (we came up with this plan rather than boarding the dogs...now it sounds dumb to me... i just want my Loopyyyyyy!

oh, almost forgot another positive thing - i got my test scores back from a certification test I took in June, and I got 291/300 (that's good for those of you who dont' do math). so hey. it's not all bad.

got a job offer! well, an offer of an offer

it's at an elementary school, sixth grade - i'm so excited about it! i really thought this would be a good fit.

unfortunately i screwed up when filling out the state certification forms and said i wanted my certification to be valid as of aug. 15. they said no good, I have to have it NOW. so i am panicking and rushing around trying to pull that rabbit out of the hat...

just wanted to share :-)

one that got away; chaos

So I drove down to Chicago for a job interview today... this evening they called to say that I didn't get it.

I knew I didn't do too well in the interview... I was nervous and didn't really take command of the classroom (I had to teach a sample lesson, which is a great idea for the school to do for prospective teachers, but omg it was nerve-wracking). They said they had "never seen anyone so nervous for a job interview." Wow. As I remarked to Franklin, "that'll do wonders for the anxiety in the future."

It's normal to be nervous in a job interview, but teaching is a performance job - if you can't perform under difficult conditions, you aren't going to make it as a teacher.

The thing is, of all the people who've ever judged me and my teaching, these people were the closest to me in philosophy, worldview, everything. So I am struggling not to conclude that I really don't have what it takes.

The only thing I can hang onto is (1) they said they bet I would be a great elementary school teacher, which is what I really want to do anyway, and (2) this *is* a really rough time in my life, so maybe that's affecting me.

Rough time... I haven't blogged in a while so you wouldn't know about that... my dad's dementia is getting so bad that Mom wants to institutionalize him immediately. Except when she wants to wait til we get there. Except when she wants to wait til after we leave. Except when she wants to keep him home to the very end. Her high-anxiety rapid-fire back-and-forth insanity is harder to cope with than his disorientation... although it's sad to feel that he is sort of fading away.

I think I already mentioned that we sold the house... only after that did we discover that we can't get financing to buy a new one until I have a job. So there's a lot riding on my getting a job. We have a new temporary apartment (sublet) that we can move into when the house sells on Aug. 3, but it's small and we don't want to have to be here very long.

Poor dear Loopy is packing the entire house on her own (Miri is going over there tomorrow, bless her!!) because I'm constantly in Chicago doing job fairs, job interviews, etc. So Loopy is always in pain, always exhausted, and yet she doesn't blame me at all. She is my angel, my sunshine, my delight, my everything.

All I can say is, this total chaos can't possibly continue indefinitely, and that's a damn good thing.

Incidentally, this is my 600th blog post. :-)

Loopy-Loopy card

Found: an old birthday card I gave Loopy some years ago.

Picture on the front: Olivia Newton-John & John Travolta at the end of Grease where ONJ is all made up and hot looking.

Words on front: "We go together like ramma lamma lamma ding gading ga dong"

What I wrote inside:

Happy birthday baby
You'll always be ultra-cool
(unless you become a scientologist)
but no matter what I'll always love you
and pay for your deprogramming
xoxox me

P.S. sorry ... I used up all the mush on my blog

my own chicago tour

So... I chose some high schools that were spread around the near-south, southwest and west sides, and had google make me an itinerary to drive by all of them.

Took me close to three hours... went down to the grand old campuses of Dunbar and DuSable, which have graduated all sorts of famous people since the mid-19th century and are now being re-envisioned as "small schools" within one building... drove across to the Latino neighborhood out by Cermak & Cicero... then up and under the Ike to another Black neighborhood just this side of Oak Park (that was freaky, when I took a wrong turn and tumbled out of the projects & churches into mansions and lawns like Alice tumbling out of the rabbit-hole)... and then on back home.

Wow.

First of all, there are a lot of poor people in Chicago, and it isn't a pretty sight. Faces and bodies beaten and battered, lined with care, jumping at noises or slumping in corners. I have spent a good bit of time in poor neighborhoods in the U.S., but not recently... I guess I'd forgotten.

Of course there were families hanging on stoops and children playing in fire hydrants, but also blocks & blocks of dead factories and boarded up shops, only the liquor stores open for business.

The Latino neighborhoods were much less depressing - plenty of beauty shops and taquerias, small neighborhood enterprises and larger shopping centers too. I asked R why it's like that and she said it's pure racism - people won't make loans to would-be Black small business owners, and don't open stores in those neighborhoods.

Anyway.

I had two reactions... well I had a lot of reactions but I'll discuss two. First, it was hard to tell what I was actually seeing and what was just my own projections. I tried to make myself look for the little details that convey genuine information - flowers in window-boxes and lawn ornaments or plantings in the front yard mean the neighborhood isn't really that bad; bars on the windows, stripped cars on the streets, garbage everywhere mean it is. (I didn't see many blocks that were that bad - and heck, I lived on blocks like that in NYC!)

Second, driving that vast area - according to Google I drove forty miles - made it really clear what my place is in the scheme of it all - specifically - very small. The people on the stoops and corners, in the taquerias and auto body shops, they aren't waiting for me to come and save them. Their lives will go on much the same whether I teach in their neighborhood or not.

I've talked w my therapist (aka OLIF) about how to have good boundaries with my work, not try to save the world at the cost of my health and sanity, etc. This little drive actually really helped with that. It was clear that I should choose a job based on what will be fulfilling for me.

I love to teach students who struggle with different kinds of obstacles or challenges, but I will choose a job with those students because I love it, not because I harbor delusions of being some kind of savior or messiah. There are miles and miles and miles of those students and I will not make a dent in the big picture (if I do it will be through activism in some other realm).

But hopefully I will have a fulfilling and interesting job for the rest of my life, and hopefully there will be some whose lives will be better because of me, and that's good enough.

Still processing all this...

Loopy Loopy dialogue... (or, You know you've been married 14 years when...)

Me: So, I figured out why the dishwasher wasn't working.

Loopy: Oh?

Me: (Some explanation, concluding with...) So, the water only comes out of the hot tap, so when, uh, you know, the thing, then there's not enough, you know, thing for the thing, and the thing doesn't turn.

Loopy: Oh, that makes sense.

(It does?)

getting used to Chicago

I called a restaurant to ask how far north they deliver.

"To Addison," they say.

"Great!" I say. "We'll call right back."

As I flip through the menu, I contemplate that in New York, they would have said, "to 45th Street," or something, and for the first time, it seems dull to me that the streets in NYC just have numbers instead of names.

(Up to now it has seemed incredibly irritating that Chicago streets have all these names instead of simple, easy-to-understand numbers).

Wow. Maybe I could really get used to this. :-)

what's new

Sooo, I started a trip blog called
Journey Beyond Persepolis. I've also been posting my pix on my Flickr account so check em out.

Speaking of Iran, did you hear about the terrible cyclone that's hitting Oman? They were afraid it was gonna get Iran too but it seems to be mellowing out a bit (that's a technical term, "mellowing out"). Apparently cyclones are totally new to the region. I guess when certain of my friends and family were worried about me in Iran, they never even thought of the only thing that even came close to actually affecting my visit!

So anyway, yes, photos, blogging.....I've only finished Day One on the blog and Day Three on Flickr. Sigh... What's been interfering with my blogging and photo-posting is that thing called real life, in the form of (1) packing and (2) job search.

Yesterday I came down to Chicago to go on this bus tour (went today) sponsored by Chicago Public Schools... as I suspected, basically the purpose is to take white kids to the South Side and say, "see, you won't immediately be gunned down in gang warfare as soon as you cross Monroe St." (One girl on the bus, who I think was actually from Chicago, said, "wow, I don't think I've ever been down here," when we were still in the South Loop! My first visit to Chicago I stayed on the South Side...)

But despite that aspect, it was interesting and useful. I met a very cool principal I'd love to work for; also learned more about the application process... it's, as Bush would say, "hard work." You basically have to go to every school where you might want to teach and drop off a resume and ask to see the principal... there are 600 schools in Chicago... and don't forget to follow up and be persistent! aaaaaaaaa...

I still have my usual problems, though I'm fighting them. I've written, um, 12 letters to principals and not printed / mailed any of them. Dunno what that's about.

Oh, and did I tell you, dear blog-friends, that we sold our house? Yes I think I did - but did I tell you we can't get financing to buy a place in Chicago until I get a job? No pressure or nothin'! Arg!

So I'm a bit deer-in-the-headlights this evening between the job stuff, and, well, the job stuff, there's a lot of it. I should follow up with the cool principal, on whom I think I made a good impression.........

Shout out to Ang, who's been gone too long! Can't wait to see you girlie!!!!

And, a shout out to Amy, whose birthday is coming up... will this be the year I remember to actually call you on your actual birthday??? The conclusion to this cliff-hanger is only days away.... ;-)

And if there's anyone else reading, a shout-out to alla yous... thanks for carin'. :-) :-)

smells like Persepolis

I'm back! Yay! Oh my god, I had the most amazing time! I can't wait to tell you all about it and upload the photos and omigod omigod omigod!!!!

But right now I'm going back to bed (jet lag and lust, ha ha) to show Loopy photos (and other things). :-)

But first I just wanted to say, when I went to do my laundry, I found that it smelled like Iran. I made Loopy smell it and she said, "yup, smells like a foreign country." It smells like rose gardens and delicious cookies and dry air and ancient things. Mmmmmmm. I'm half tempted to keep some of it in a bag, just to smell it from time to time....

One other tidbit: we decided to go out for breakfast (which was really lunch) (jet lag and lust, ha ha) and I hadn't washed my hair (tho I showered last night). So Loopy said, "get your kerchief and let's go!" because I usually wear a kerchief when I go out with unclean hair. Without stopping to think, my reaction was, "I'm not wearing anything on my head and you can't make me. In fact, I'm not sure I'll ever wear anything on my head ever again."

It's so great to feel wind in your hair when you haven't been able to. Mmmmmm.

trip blog

Oh, and by the way, for the Iran trip I'll be blogging on the website for NBC San Francisco! Pretty cool eh! I'll post the link here as soon as I have it.

busy

We sold the house. After six days on the market. Kinda mind-boggling. Loopy says her stomach is churning and she won't be able to sleep. I am pleased and relieved but not extremely emotional about it right now... just a bit stressed about everything we have to do in the next few days. ("I can't believe you're not having more of a reaction!" Loopy says. "I'm leaving for Iran in a week... it's hard to top that," I noted).

So, yes. Let's review the situation here.

• We're going to Chicago Sunday, hopefully to finalize which apartment we want to make an offer on, so Loopy can pursue that in my absence.
  
• I need to clean the basement and set up the two new de-humidifiers, because prospective buyers say it smells musty (we will keep showing it in case this buyer doesn't get financing or something).
  
• We are playing some kind of offer-counter-offer tennis game with our neighbors over a piece of empty land we're selling them. (Empty of houses anyway... tho full of cross-country ski trails, wildlife, and lovely trees). At this rate we should just give the fucking land to our & our neighbors' lawyers to pay their fees.
  
• I need to find a job.
  
• Did I mention, I'm going to Iran next week? I should pack.

So, yeah. Busy.

Tzarist Russia in the Lunchbox, or why poetry has always been a cucumber for those without beer.

In the process of cleaning my office (an agonizing and seemingly endless process) I came across some "socialist mad libs" that we did at a "radical academics & activists' conference" while we were staffing the "radical bookstore cooperative" table. We randomly chose books from the selection available there, and wrote out mad libs by eliminating key words, etc.

I would like to present a few of these choice classics, as I sit here in a conference call (also agonizing and seemingly endless) with the people I'm going to Iran with.*

I should mention that we were very drunk.

Tzarist Russia in the Lunchbox

by Ralph Trotsky

How did the tzar's cheesecake, supported according to its own mechanical pencil by grass, survive for a year and a half after the nutcracker? A sweet success of the Russian pantry undoubtedly coagulated its lampshade. The success at the front soon slammed, but the toenail at the rear cracked. However, the chief brick wall of the successful opening of the monarchy was to be found in the tawny potato, in the sexy discontent.



Actually, we weren't that drunk for that one. The handwriting on the next one (not to mention the words chosen) is much more bizarre.

Bride of Conscience

(formerly a Statement of Conscience by people in opposition to the Iraq war)

Poetry has always been a cucumber for those without beer, a nosering and a song lifted up in the service of booger, in praise of girls, in lament for crackers passed on, in whine for the zipper. Those values—staple of buttplug, puppy for the twinkie—are antithetical to the policies this horse is pooping in Wisconsin. The human boobies of a smelly dyke will be unspeakable.**

*(Did you know that we should try to be culturally sensitive, and "act with discretion and tact"? No, really? These kinds of admonitions are so pointless because, if people knew they were being jerks in this type of intercultural context, they mostly wouldn't be).

**Formerly, "The human costs of a pre-emptive war will be unspeakable."

melt

springy coupla days here... muddy, drippy. lake's still frozen but water on top of the ice. i try to be cranky about the mud the dogs track in, but it's hard to be cranky about spring. saw two cranes today and a lot of red-wing blackbirds... wow. it'll be cold again, but, we're on the way...

OLIF (therapist) said today: "You really, really want to move to Chicago and get a job there... and I think this time you might actually give yourself what you want."

I had to ponder that for a while. There's a lot there... how things have worked in the past... haven't allowed myself to get what I want... hmmmm.

overcome

Wow. I'm trying to do job apps and, wow. Some of these jobs sound so great and I feel so unqualified.* I keep almost bursting into tears.

I'm tempted to think "if only I had done x or y in the last decade, I would be more qualified," but, I remind myself to just "sit with the vulnerability" of these feelings of inadequacy... and maybe give the people I'm applying to a chance to decide for themselves whether I'm adequate or not... just give it a shot and see where it goes.

To quote from the notes from a meditation seminar I attended in the fall of 2005 (which I just ripped out of a notebook and filed while waiting for my new OS to install)...

• plan the plan, don't plan the results
  
• make a choice - do something - then you find out what happens next
  
• allow results of what you've done to manifest & then see what you think

Trying to be more gentle, relaxed with this experience... ok, so since I can't seem to relax (my shoulders ache - I've been tensed up for days!), maybe I could have some compassion for myself in this situation?

Why is that so hard?

That mean voice keeps telling me that I've done everything wrong and that these unpleasant feelings of inadequacy are the appropriate punishment for all my mistakes.

Sigh. Breathe. Breathe. That's all I can do. And keep trying to write this goddamn cover letter without crying.

---

*Sample course description:

Law in American Society (Honors)
Students identify, analyze, and explain the structures and functions of the American legal system in this survey course which shall cover constitutional, criminal, and civil law in America. Students investigate and analyze the judicial system under the United States Constitution, using historical perspectives from Supreme Court decisions, responses to those decisions, and concrete illustrations of recent expansion of constitutional rights. Students evaluate their ever-increasing freedoms and responsibilities under the American system of law.

Part of me says, oh come on, you could teach that - and the other part of me replies, are you nuts? I could just as easily teach AP Chinese—which is also offered at this school.

don't fear the reaper

Just watched the Christmas episode of "Six Feet Under" -- the one where it's one year since the dad died, and everyone's remembering the last time they saw him, and meanwhile the bikers have a rip-roaring funeral for the guy who worked as Santa Claus and wiped out in front of the kids. "Don't Fear the Reaper" plays over the closing credits as Nate zooms off on Highway 1 on the dead guy's Harley.

Well, all the memories of the last time they saw the Dad (it occurred to me that that's the only time in the series--I think--after the first episode--where he actually appears as a live person, instead of someone else's imagination of what he might say if he were there) -- anyway -- well, I ended up bawling.

I was supposed to go visit my folks next weekend, but I procrastinated on buying the tickets, kinda using my bad back as an excuse. We didn't see them at Christmas because of Loopy's whole thing, so the last time I saw them was in August when I went for Mom's surgery, which was a really really hard time. And now it's been a long time. There were years when I avoided them for as much as 18 months at a time, but that's in the past, and now I miss them. I think.

I did a lot of "work" in August when I was there (I keep meaning to post excerpts from a long letter I wrote in which I recorded a lot of that) and have felt a lot closer to my Mom since then...

So now recently, Mom hasn't been well, and she periodically talks about how Dad's gone downhill a lot recently, and I've been scared that if I didn't hurry up and go see them that he might die. Which I know is ridiculous -- people "go downhill" for years, decades even...

There's still the reasons I didn't see them for long stretches in the past, those reasons exist--and some other ones too, and they aren't small little trifling things, they're big, but I want those things to stay dead and buried and just not get in the way of trying to enjoy some time with them and, you know, be a grown-up, which I think of as someone who doesn't go around obsessing about the less pleasant aspects of her childhood, someone who has it together.

I just feel death getting closer, closing in. When I was younger and people talked about how when you age there's a "growing consciousness of mortality," I thought that was such a cliché and who isn't aware of mortality? But I get it now.

I was so afraid of losing my Loopy last year... it's a dream now, a fading nightmare that we're waking up from, but there's some kind of shadow that's left, a much deeper awareness of human fragility... And Ricky, and my folks, and everyone. The valley of the shadow of death -- that's where we always are.

It's a cliché, definitely, to point out that this is also the valley of life, it's all we've got. They talk a lot on "Six Feet Under" about making every day count. What does that even mean?

This is what happens when I don't have lunch. I end up bawling over a TV show. At least it's a highly acclaimed special TV show, and not a detergent commercial--that's when I know I'm really 'round the bend.

OK, well, on a slightly lighter note, I love watching the show again (Loopy gave me the box set for Christmas!) because there are so many little tiny details that are just so awesome. In an episode I watched earlier, David is talking to Keith in a coffee shop, and there are all these containers behind David's head labeled "cracker."

In the Christmas episode (it's called "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year"), Nate's last memory of his dad is when he and Claire are sharing a joint after Thanksgiving dinner, and his dad comes round the corner of the house smoking, and Nate & Claire quickly hide their joint, and when the dad sees them, he immediately stomps out what he's smoking and lights a cigarette.

The first time I saw it I just assumed he was chain smoking, but this time I realized, duh, they were all outside getting high and escaping Ruth at the same time.

It's just a little thing but it's so funny. All the episodes have little things like that... ah yes, just as I had hoped, there is a page with all the best quotes on IMDB.com. Enjoy.

Flat Daddy???????

oh... my.... fucking.... god....



If you’re reading this page it’s probably because you’ve heard about Flat Daddy™ and the wonderful way it’s being used to help children stay connected to a deployed parent. He’s also filling the "blank space" in family occasion photos, event and trips. Just look at the pictures to see all the places he’s been! It’s exciting.

--from http://www.imalreadyhome.com/flatdaddy.htm




This is so horrifying to me! Is it really comforting? I guess it must be.... so many people are doing it... but it just makes me want to cry.

It turned up in a link in the sidebar on a letter from my Mom (those google ads are sometimes so bizarre!)... anyway...

In case it's not clear from what I quoted above, people with family members deployed in the armed forces create life-size cutouts of them! To help the children feel like Daddy or Mommy is here with them!

They put them in special occasion photos so it's like the person was really at the wedding or at Disneyworld or whatever!

Apparently this is comforting to them but it is just.... I can't see how that wouldn't just be depressing as hell. "Daddy's not here to kiss you goodnight but you can kiss the cardboard cutout."

I guess it's already depressing as hell to have your family member deployed, possibly in danger. Probably so depressing that it couldn't get any more depressing...

But isn't it creepy to have the flat version sitting around? I mean... what if they were already dead and you didn't know it?

OK, I'm trying to express my feelings about this and be sensitive to the feelings of others at the same time, which is maybe a doomed proposition to begin with. But still. Wow.

when the usual phrase just doesn't, uh, fit...

Me: So, does this brand of lube come in a pump bottle?

Clerk: No, I'm sorry, just the tube.

Me: Too bad. I keep losing the lid to the tube, and it gets all over the place--the tube is just a pain in the a--uh... a pain in the neck.

dispatch from a galaxy far far away

so.... this is what people take drugs for...

i've been soooooo out of it for the last two days.... which seems like a week or something.... it's very blank.... i'm not worried about anything.... don't care much about anything either..... it all seems pretty easy.... there's job applications, hospital bills, getting ready for the possible move.... I'm not doing any of it and don't really care.... I've felt very isolated too, in a bubble.... it's an effort to listen to what people say, more of an effort to respond.... very far away.

i can see how people would want to stay here.... also how it would fuck up your life.... i kinda don't want to come back to life/reality and deal with everything............ and there's no "but" ...... i just want to keep floating................

Loopy is currently having a conversation with the mitten she's knitting. In fact, it's sort of an argument; apparently the mitten does not wish to have a lining knitted into it, but Loopy thinks that a lining would be a good idea.

I think I better try to get it together before too much longer.

icing on the cake

so between walking, lying on ice, and taking a lot of pills (it's actually been lovely, the first time I've been pain-free since January 3 - I didn't realize how much pain I'd been in b/c I'd just gotten used to it!) I did some more research on the job situation and finally found a good starting point in chicago.

I figured if I could just find one school that's a place I'd like to teach, hopefully I can talk with principal and teachers there and get their recommendations for other places to try. So today... I found one! Yay!

Check it out... only 18 minutes from our current apartment in Chicago... and at least according tot he website, so close to my whole approach and teaching philosophy that I could just cry!

Although I love the "Six Feet Under" box set (it has furry "grass" on top!!), finding this school is the best birthday present I could have gotten.

Now I have to go lie down. Not only should I do that for my back, but I'm starting to feel queasy.... in addition to all the medication, I ate both the two Vosges chocolate bars Loopy gave me within the last few hours ("hey, it's my birthday!"), and, uh, yeah, that wasn't such a great idea.

birthday extravaganza continues!!

So Wednesday night we had dinner w Miri and Dylan - we shared the "All-American Feast," i.e., heaps o' meat bigger than your head, at Famous Dave's on Park Street. Mmmmm. Gotta love that Georgia chop pork..... second only to the oh-my-god ribs. And we all got extra corn muffins! It was heavenly.



And Thursday night it was a fancy-shmancy spread at Lombardino's w Shamus and Ang... Shamus sprang for some absolutely spectacular wine, which went wonderfully with our appetizers (calamari, cheese plate - w pine nut cake and scrumptious sweet preserves offsetting the cheeses, a spicy pizza, and some gorgonzola-stuffed dates on thin slices of some kind of salami-like thing sprinkled with spicy sprouts) as well as our "primi piatti" (R & Ang had orechiette in some kind of fabulous cream sauce; I had pasta with chilis and MINT - so different and refreshing! - and Shamus had pasta with braised short ribs). And then there was another course, but I'm totally blanking out on it... oh yeah.... I had chicken, two people had pork, and someone had a filet. It was sooo delightful I was in seventh heaven.

The only downer was that we had to go elsewhere for dessert b/c Lombardino's wouldn't let us cut our cake there! Ohhh, and what a cake it was.... "La Brioche," chocolaty chocolate with extra chocolate, which wsa just fabulous. (Loopy said she asked if there was a particularly good cake and the woman behind the counter was so emphatic about this one that it was almost scary).



Today my actual bday I'm spending in bed, stoned out of my gourd on valium & vicodin, trying to get my back pain under control (doctor's orders!). I don't care. I'm so blissed out...

Loopy got me several delightful presents including the entire box set of "Six Feet Under" (yes, Miri, you can borrow the last season!). Yay!!!!

I am definitely the luckiest girl in the world.

hip pappy bithuthday to me, again! :-)

And we're starting the usual week-long celebration with a bouquet of GORGEOUS roses from my Mom!!! They smell so great, they look so great... aw gee... I love them.



Also, check this out...
George Takei responds to pro basketball player's anti-gay comments

It's really, really, really funny.

wow

now there's even a state in Mexico that has civil unions! Dykes from Texas are going south of the border to get married!!

Check it out...

mom, are you reading this?

cuz I'm getting totally paranoid. if you are, just tell me. don't sneak around. it's creeping me out.

more medical drama

so Mom has decided that what's wrong is her gall bladder, but some of the symptoms and tests indicate it could be cancer in her kidneys.

she says "why waste your energy worrying about something before you know?"

that's my mom for you--plan out what emotions to have, then have them, no muss no fuss.

meanwhile I'm convinced that (a) it's kidney cancer, and (b) she's going to have surgery for it between May 5 and 18th, which would be the third time that a family member's surgery has pre-empted my traveling to Iran.

of course, I'm much more sad and worried about my Mom's health than the trip. but damn, that would piss me off.

mommy said a bad word!!!!

Poor thing, she hasn't been feeling well.

On my voicemail, in fact, she described her status as "crappy."

I was shocked.

But it does explain why the INSIDE of our basement door looks like the inside of an old-fashioned icebox in need of defrosting.



Clearly, Hell has frozen over.

boiled potatoes

So I went to the meditation retreat and had a very interesting experience.

Basically, I had what one would be tempted to call "bad meditation" the whole time. I was exhausted and kept falling asleep, and my back hurt unless I sat with perfect posture.

I kept having weird little dreams with my eyes open, like, that the sweater of the person in front of me was changing colors, or that the person in front of me was scratching their leg or talking to a neighbor--then I'd wake up and they were sitting there motionless.

So I felt like it wasn't gonna be of any benefit to me.

On Sunday, toward the end, we got into smaller groups to talk about our experiences and a guy next to me said that he had read that "meditation when you're angry is like boiling a pot of potatoes..."

(What the fuck is he talking about?? I thought)

"...it seems like nothing's changing, but gradually, they get softer."

And suddenly I realized that that had EXACTLY been my experience.

Saturday night after a whole day of hours & hours of "bad meditation," I went home and was able to have a good cry, talk to Loopy, and feel that rage (see previous post) start to loosen and melt. It had seriously not occurred to me that this might have been possible because of my meditation all day, however "bad."

Pretty cool eh... the teachers have always said that there's no such thing as "bad meditation," that it is beneficial no matter whether it feels "good" or "bad" while you're doing it.

Huh.

funny Loopy in her sleep

Last night as we finally drove home after returning from our 12-day trip to PA, Loopy was asleep in the front seat and I was driving. (For years Loopy insisted on driving and I was always the one sleeping in the passenger's seat... it feels kind of nice to switch places... I identify with the protective Dad in the car commercials... it feels nice to drive carefully and gently for your beloved...)

Anyway. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a piece of paper fall out of the sun visor on the passenger's side--it fell onto Loopy's face, then slid down to the ground. Not realizing at that moment that she was asleep, I asked, "what was that?"

"What was what?" she said (asleep, but sounding awake).

Me: "The thing that fell on your head?"

Loopy: "Nothing fell on my head."

Me: "No, there was something, I think it was a piece of paper--something fell on your head."

Loopy (with conviction): "It was just a metaphor."

Me: "What? A metaphor fell on your head?"

Loopy (nodding emphatically, still in her sleep): "Yes."

fury & whining

Lately i've been enraged all the time for no apparent reason. I threw my cell phone across the car because a friend got confused about the time difference between eastern and central time.

Loopy is being very patient with me and I don't feel even the slightest bit annoyed with her... but I'm getting tired of it.

It has been suggested that I'm just sick of being in Hershey, PA, watching wounds drain through tubes for the last 12 days. Could be. Now we're in O'Hare and the whole mess with the planes is such a pain that I'm too exhausted and disgusted/disheartened to even feel like complaining about it.

We'll be home soon. If the above-mentioned theory is correct I will be filled with peace and light. I am skeptical.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I have a whole meditation retreat this weekend where I can go just sit with my enraged self for hours and hours.

Lucky me.

believing in fairies

So... now on to some comments on Pan's Labyrinth (El Laberinto del Fauno)...

We saw this last week and I have thought about it on & off since then... I really enjoyed it a lot and highly, highly recommend it.

Special effects were fantastic, and yet somehow subtle—completely subservient to the story instead of seeming to be the movie's raison d'etre... even though they were utterly indispensible.

Characters were interesting and complex. Even those who could be summed up in a few words ("sadistic army guy," "tragic doomed woman") yet managed to have nuances and backstories and to seem very real and believable.

The reviews all made it sound horrendously gory, but it really wasn't. It was genuinely (if mildly) scary, in its depiction of fantastical and all-too-real versions of evil, but there were only a few brief bits I couldn't watch—it wasn't gratuitously gory, and there was plenty of warning when to look away.

I was worried that a fable about a little girl's coming of age or growing up would be anti-feminist, but was pleasantly surprised—okay, shocked—to find that it was powerfully feminist.

I saw it as feminist for two reasons. First, because of the way the two adult women are contrasted. Each tries to protect herself and her loved ones through a different path: the woman who takes the traditional path of trading sexuality and servitude for safety, does not find what she sought; the woman who is brave, independent, strong, resourceful and a real fighter, is in a much better situation at the end of the film.

Second, the little girl's "coming of age" involves thinking for herself and standing up for what's right even in the face of her worst fears—not being rescued by Prince Charming. There is nothing gendered about her challenges, her courage, or her victory (although it could be argued that belief in fairy-tales is gendered). I feel like cheering just thinking about this aspect... a wise, strong, brave little girl!

Another thing I liked about the film is the way that the doctor and Mercedes both seem to see themselves as cowardly because they serve in the captain's household, and yet, by holding true to what they believe is right, they are able to become heroes in key moments. They convey how heroism doesn't necessarily require some great leap; when the moment came, they knew what to do, and it was completely natural, like taking another step on a path you've always walked. Inspiring.

One thing I've been thinking about all week (and this may have been obvious to others more quickly... I haven't been in the lit-crit milieu in a long time!) is the relationship between the fairy-tale and the real-life story that are inter-woven throughout the film.

I think I finally have an interpretation of it that satisfies me... your mileage may vary, of course. But I think it's all about belief—not giving up on your beliefs—having faith in something that carries you through. In a secular sort of way, it's about the victory of faith and love.

Spoiler here—plot and ending details. If you don't want to know, skip the rest of the post (it prob'ly won't make a whole lot of sense if you haven't seen the film anyway).

... spoiler ...

... spoiler ...


So, the child is "saved" by her belief in her fairy tale—saved from the full impact of the horrors of war and her mother's drama; also, if one is to take the fairy tale as "real," she is saved from death. Throughout the film, her belief is a kind of resistance; it's interwoven with her "real life" resistance, such as when she destroys the party dress.

The mother, who has given up on belief (if she ever had it) and is just trying to stay alive, has betrayed herself and her daughter into the hands of evil; she hopes that collaborating with evil will keep them safe, but it kills them.

Mercedes is the opposite of the mother. She says she once believed in fairies as a child; now she believes in the resistance struggle. Belief, and her love for her brother give her courage and determination. She does not let herself be killed but fights back. Her faith is like a fire in her... she is so beautiful at the end when she is sort of revealed in all her glory...

What do you think?

Anyway, that's my two cents. It's late and I'm tired. Never enough hours in the day...

update

First, an update on the previous post: it was just a cold.

Loopy had been feeling achy and miserable for a couple days, and with everything she's been through, there were a couple different things that could have been going wrong. Our doctor back in Madison told us to just go in to the ER just to be on the safe side. Once we got to the ER she started sneezing, so it got to be a bit more obvious, but we still waited for test results.

Anyway. She's fine. Just miserable.

I must say, though, we are getting quite experienced at this whole ER business. This time (which is, what... our fifth time in the last, uh, five months?) we brought a fabulous dinner and the laptop with a DVD in it.

So, although Loopy was sick, I at least was not as miserable as usual, as we savored our sumptuous desserts and watched "Good Night, and Good Luck." (We didn't get far enough into it to review it).

All in all, though, not my favorite way to spend an evening.

This afternoon, Loopy's nephew mentioned he was cold and I got him some blankets; as I tucked in his feet, he very sweetly said that maybe I should consider becoming a nurse.

This is not the first time in the last six months that someone has suggested I might be destined to be a nurse. I do appreciate that it's meant as a compliment to my caregiving.

I am glad to do what I can to make my loved ones more comfortable. However, the thought of being a nurse is not appealing; it's like saying, "hey, you're getting really good at being in hell, why don't you spend the rest of your life there?"

Huh. This makes me think that maybe my resistance to being in hospitals is making my time there more unpleasant than necessary? Maybe if I were more positive about it, it would be more pleasant?

Naw.... don't think so.

Please rest assured that if you are among the people I have cared for in the last six months, or if I should end up at your hospital bed in the future, I don't resent it, because I love you. I've learned that I can be genuinely helpful and I'm glad to help people I love.

But I don't enjoy it either. If I don't love you, I will avoid ending up at your hospital bed. Or if I end up there, it will be for a brief visit, and I will not hold your shirt while the nurse changes your dressing.

I'm pretty sure about that.

more hospitals!

We are still in Pennsylvania with Loopy's sister & nephew. The latter is now in the rehab section of the hospital, and well on the road to recovery, much to everyone's surprise and delight.

I was going to post about Pan's Labyrinth, which we saw a week ago. But Loopy feels crappy so we have to go to the ER.

It's probably nothing serious, but in our brilliantly designed health-care system, the ER is the only place to go if you're out of reach of your own doctor. :-P

SO I am posting just to complain that I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF HOSPITALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Loopy-Loopy dialogue: a double feature*

Scene: I enter the bedroom, where Loopy is snoring with the TV remote in her hand.

Me (kissing her): You're sleeping, my darling, and you don't have your [sleep apnea CPAP machine] mask on.

Loopy: Sign in.

Me: Huh?

Loopy (louder and more distinctly): You have to sign in.

Me: To what?

Loopy: To the menu.

Me (finally getting that she's talking in her sleep): .... Why?

Loopy: So you can power it up. (She turns over with finality and burrows into the pillows, but obediently puts the CPAP mask on, still asleep).

(I can't wait til morning to see if she has any idea what that was about!)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Scene: earlier, at the gym. Joni Mitchell's "Clouds" is playing on the annoying piped-in music track.

Loopy: Ohhhhhh.... you know, I first heard this song when I was seven, and I thought that it was all about clowns.

Me (laughing): She's looked at clowns from both sides now? The round red nose side and the curly wig side?

Loopy: Yeah.

Me: And she really doesn't know clowns at all?

Loopy: Well, it made sense to me at the time--you don't really know clowns, because they wear makeup!

Me: And you just figured this out.

Loopy: Yes.

Me: Sweetie, you have this on CD.

Loopy (laughing): I know!

Me: That takes the cake. OK, you never again get to make fun of me for [thinking that OutKast's "Hey Ya" contains the line] "shake it like a corduroy preacher" or [thinking that the Indigo Girls' "Love Will Come to You" contains the line] "offer up a crystal bottle of glue."

Loopy (witheringly): I was seven. You're thirty-five.

---

*Whatever happened to the double feature? The last one I saw was Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan with Little Orphan Annie. Seriously.

a moment of nostalgia for my high school

Hey Rie (I don't think I have any other readers from high school...?), do you remember that geeky kid who used to wear that awesome green self-made t-shirt that read,

To err is human; to moo, bovine.

?

Yeah. Me too.

oh yeah

A few days after the previous post, a comforting quote floated into my head...

"The universe in which things turned out differently exists only in your head, and it exists primarily to torment you." (Zen teacher Cheri Huber; approximate quote)

Somehow that helped.

big changes...

Just finished putting away all the kitchen stuff we brought home from the apt., as well as the last of the groceries (the larder was pretty much bare, my friends!)--I also bleached all the countertops b/c there was mouse poop scattered about. (Hands need lotion...) Did some organizing too. But organizing is weird now because...

... we decided to strongly & seriously consider moving to Chicago this spring.

The lease on the Chicago apt. is up in May, and Loopy has a lot more work to do, and not much stamina at the moment for a lot of driving back & forth, never mind the pain involved in climbing two flights of stairs to the Chicago apartment--and don't forget the two flights of stairs here at home. The total handicap-inaccessibility of our house is a very strong "push" factor.

Besides, it doesn't look like I'm ever gonna get a job around here... there's just too much of a glut of experienced teachers on the market, plus (perhaps?) not much appetite for non-traditional teachers? Who knows about the latter, can't assume too much. Whereas in Chicago I could prob'ly have a job tomorrow, if I weren't too picky.

So that's just on the agenda to be explored... wanted to tell y'all about it...

The other thing the title is referring to is something Loopy said today... she was looking at old photos and it really struck her how limited her mobility still is, how she may never get it all back and how she "may never be just standing there again," without help. This struck me some months ago at the gym... that she may never again just come bustling around the corner suddenly. Of course, she may make a complete recovery, but she doesn't feel very optimistic at the moment.

I looked at some old photos to illustrate this and the ones from Montreal struck me the most. Jesus, that just feels like a short time ago--it is just a short time ago--just two months before the surgery.

Damn it damn it damn it, I get so angry thinking about how everything would have been different if they had just found the fucking tumor two months earlier!!!

I know, I know--we did our best, the doctors did their best, nobody's to blame, we can never know what all the alternatives might have been. As we discussed the other day, if they'd done the surgery two months earlier who knows--maybe we wouldn't have had the same surgeon or the same anaesthesiologist or something and maybe something bad woulda happened. Buddhism encourages us to realize that we don't know, for certain, if anything is "good" or "bad." To keep an open mind and not be too certain of anything.

But...



Damn, damn, damn.

home at last

finally moved home today... we left on October 27, seventy-eight days ago; we lived in the hospital for three weeks and the apartment for eight weeks. we thank our lucky stars for all the people whose kindness, generosity, reliability, etc. made all this possible.

things i will miss about the apartment:

• covered, heated parking garage (s'posed to be zero all week this week)(degrees, outside—for all you non-locals)
  
• no piles of clutter (to remind me of years of mental dysfunction and a lot of work to do to go through it all—my therapist suggested a dumpster)
  
• not having to worry about all the home-owner-y chores (gotta mulch that iris—and is there something wrong with the water softener?)
  
• being so close to stores and friends (so easy to pop out for a midnight snack or an impulsive get-together!)

things i'm glad to be reunited with, here at home:

• dogs!!!! they're so happy to have us home (and so interested in everything we've brought with us... "what's that mom, huh, huh, can I have it? can I? what about that? what's in here? oooh, this smells good...")
  
• front-loading washer that won't shred our clothing (can finally wash all our sweaters! they need it!—sorry, tmi!)
  
• space...between us and the neighbors... (no more muffling our faces in pillows during mango chutney ;-) )
  
• printers! (now i can finally finish Miri's xmas present—and next time we go on a trip, the confirmations #s and maps etc. won't be scrawled on the back of an envelope)
  
• our satellite DVR, which has faithfully recorded all the episodes of "Six Feet Under" that have been showing on Bravo for the last three months (plus some random "Benny Hill" episodes--not sure how that happened!)
  
• just... being... HOME. you know what i mean. *big peaceful sigh*

Hope you're having a good weekend!

silly reality tv

Gay, Straight, or Taken... have you people seen this one?

A girl dates three guys and has to figure out which one is straight and single. If she picks the right one she gets to go on a fabulous vacation (with him, I think)--if she picks the wrong one he goes on the fabulous vacation with his boyfriend or girlfriend. It's funny.

I can't believe this is the first post I'm labeling with "tv."

recuperation & movie reviews

So my back is still pretty fucked so there's a lot of lying around on ice, taking valium and watching movies.... and did I mention chocolate?

When it first went "out" I was terrified that my back would get worse & worse & I'd end up flat on my back and crawling to the bathroom and crying from pain like in 2002..... but it's slowly getting better so I'm not that worried anymore, and am enjoying taking it easy.... Loopy is getting so much better, it's wonderful--she is waking up, and sharing chores and criticizing my driving ("pros and cons," as I keep saying to Shamus & Ang). ;-) So we're having fun.

I worked today and will work tomorrow... but I don't feel like blogging about that, except to note that I worked in the library today... and the library people always like me way better than the teacher people do... this bothers me and I could analyze it but I'll save that for another time. Also I do need to get going on paying bills (haven't opened a bill in 6 weeks, and the hospital has started calling) and starting this year's job search in earnest. By the weekend, I promise.

But first... some movie thoughts......

Transamerica: a good movie. Not sure if it's a good movie about transpersons' experience, etc., but i still thought it was a good movie... a very light touch, light humor and emotion--it could have been ridiculously heavy-handed but wasn't. It could have been a pastiche of clichés but it wasn't. The lead came to a greater acceptance of herself through confronting things and people she had been avoiding, and she conveyed that in a very understated and believable way. I'm not sure if her portrayal was flattering but it was interesting, worth watching. Recommended.

Tristan & Isolde: Loopy & I are always suckers for a big-budget period piece, and this one was delightful--shockingly enough it featured good acting and good writing. Beautifully shot, beautiful actors. There are enough versions of the story that you can have a little suspense as to exactly how it will end... the constraints of history and plot and archetype limit the options, and it feels a tad forced, but it comes close enough to working that you just don't care. Or I didn't. Recommended.

The Promise(无极): Wow, wow, wow. Despite my generally low tolerance for Chinese warriors flying through the air, I loved this movie. It's a fairytale fable with goddesses and magical cloaks and people from a pure land now destroyed, blah blah blah. But oh... my... god... it is SOOOOO beautiful. GORGEOUS. The jacket said that it was "the most beautiful movie imaginable" and I'd have to agree. Highly recommended.

Beowulf & Grendel: A doomed and horrifying attempt at a sympathetic portrayal of Grendel. Very little overlap with the actual story; features an anachronistic feminist Grendel-rights-activist witch; degenerates into total nonsense. Also, horrifyingly full of Loopy's (un-)favorite--severed heads. We had to quit watching it after the climactic fight scene. Absolutely not recommended. I couldn't even turn it into a drinking game.

The Lake House: Am watching it right now. Bad. Really bad. And dull. But we had to put something on to get Grendel's gruesome dismemberment out of my head. (R was smart enough not to watch, but she said the sound effects are bad enough). Although hearing dialogue like the quote below is only marginally less nightmarish:

Keanu (spoken with a painfully failed effort to pretened to be pondering the subject while speaking): D'you know... I think Dad wants us to do what he couldn't. But admitting that would mean admitting that he came up short in some way, and that tortures him...

. Ooh... just hit a new low... "Wow, a comedian, what did you have clown for breakfast this morning or something?" (No, that would make you a cannibal, not a comedian). I think I have to go to bed now. Oh god, it's getting worse and worse...

tweaked template

if you feel like taking a peek... i made it so the photo at right doesn't disappear off the page when it's horizontal. this was harder than i thought it would be.

because there are now so many of my own photos on the blog (they rotate at top right and along the bottom of the page), i admit a slight vanity-based preference for people actually visiting the blog (instead of just viewing it on Bloglines), but i'm also strongly aware that i'm damn lucky to have any readers so i can't be too picky. still... can't hurt to ask. ;-)

hu's on first

Amy sent this to me a long time ago--so long that I didn't have a blog & wasn't able to share it with you. I do remember that I laughed until I thought I would split something.

So, tonight while reading a serious news story about Chinese and Iranian diplomats' meetings, I remembered this little bit of fun and thought I would dig it up and pass it on.

Playwright Jim Sherman wrote this after Hu Jintao was named chief of the Communist Party in China. (We take you now to the Oval Office.)

George: Condi! Nice to see you. What's happening?

Condi: Sir, I have the report here about the new leader of China.

George: Great. Lay it on me.

Condi: Hu is the new leader of China.

George: That's what I want to know.

Condi: That's what I'm telling you.

George: That's what I'm asking you. Who is the new leader of China?

Condi: Yes.

George: I mean the fellow's name.

Condi: Hu.

George: The guy in China.

Condi: Hu.

George: The new leader of China.

Condi: Hu.

George: The Chinaman!

Condi: Hu is leading China.

George: Now whaddya' asking me for?

Condi: I'm telling you Hu is leading China.

George: Well, I'm asking you. Who is leading China?

Condi: That's the man's name.

George: That's who's name?

Condi: Yes.

George: Will you or will you not tell me the name of the new leader of China?

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: Yassir? Yassir Arafat is in China? I thought he was in the Middle East.

Condi: That's correct.

George: Then who is in China?

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: Yassir is in China?

Condi: No, sir.

George: Then who is?

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: Yassir?

Condi: No, sir.

George: Look, Condi. I need to know the name of the new leader of China. Get me the Secretary General of the U.N. on the phone.

Condi: Kofi?

George: No, thanks.

Condi: You want Kofi?

George: No.

Condi: You don't want Kofi.

George: No. But now that you mention it, I could use a glass of milk. And then get me the U.N.

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: Not Yassir! The guy at the U.N.

Condi: Kofi?

George: Milk! Will you please make the call?

Condi: And call who?

George: Who is the guy at the U.N?

Condi: Hu is the guy in China.

George: Will you stay out of China?!

Condi: Yes, sir.

George: And stay out of the Middle East! Just get me the guy at the U.N.

Condi: Kofi.

George: All right! With cream and two sugars. Now get on the phone.

glory hallelujah!*

first, today's good news: he's off the ventilator! he's breathing on his own! yay! cartwheels!

that's our Ricky, always was a champion breather--breathed every day of his life, the little rascal. ;-)

his mom says he's not really talking much, still mostly sleeping, but it's nice that he can talk... and he also seemed clearer and more able to understand what was said, so she tried to tell him a little about what has happened.

she says that he was very surprised that two weeks had passed and that it's now 2007--he doesn't remember Christmas (even though he was still awake then) and slept through New Year's. he did remember going into the hospital and a few things after that.

one other thing--she's very pleased that he has now quit smoking--in his sleep!

---

*re the "glory hallelujah," that's what spontaneously came out my mouth, with great emotion, the last time we got some good news on this whole drama. it's weird, but sometimes, if i want to really express profound relief or desperate hope, religious expressions keep coming to my lips....

i did feel sort of gibbousy

...[W]e also change like the weather, we ebb and flow like the tides, we wax and wane like the moon. We do that, and there's no reason to resist it. If we resist it, the reality and vitality of life become misery, a hell.

--Pema Chödrön, The Wisdom of No Escape & the Path of Loving-Kindness

Miri has pointed out to me that I often say that last week (or last month or last year) I had achieved (or avoided) a particular state or habit, but now I've backtracked and fallen into my old bad ways.

Since she pointed it out I hear myself saying it, but find it hard to think differently--first to let go of trying so hard to fix myself, to change, to be better--and second to let go of thinking that last week (or month or year) I had it, but now I've lost it again.

What if I could see these changes as weather, waxing and waning, ebbing and flowing? What if I weren't constantly monitoring my changes and labeling them as getting better and getting worse, being bad and being good? I believe it would... well, from this exact point and place in time, I believe it would make me better.

Round and round we go.



p.s. Bloglines readers, the image is worth clicking to... ;-)

discipline

in reference to the whole thing I discussed in the previous post about swinging from one extreme to another--from compulsively avoiding work to compulsively doing work--I've been thinking that this is because I lack some kind of solid interior compass or, what would you call it, lodestone, something that I can come back to.

One word that came to mind as I was thinking about this was "discipline"--I lack discipline--the discipline to work at appropriate times and the discipline to rest at appropriate times. I feel lost and unmoored all the time, trapped and confused.

And, a phrase came into my head from When Things Fall Apart: "What we discipline is not our 'badness'..." but I couldn't remember the rest. All I can think of is disciplining (punishing) my badness, my failures... So I looked up the full quote. Here it is, though I'd be lying if I said I had fully assimilated it...

To dissolve the causes of aggression takes discipline, gentle yet precise discipline. Without discipline, we simply don't have the support we need to evolve. What we discipline is not our "badness" or our "wrongness". What we discipline is any form of potential escape from reality. In other words, discipline allows us to be right here and connect with the richness of the moment.

...

Within this structure, we proceed with compassion...[T]he discipline is to return to gentleness, to honesty, to letting go. At the inner level, the discipline is to find the balance between not too tight and not too loose — between not too laid-back and not too rigid.

Discipline provides the support to slow down enough, and be present enough, so that we can live our lives without making a big mess. It provides the encouragement to step further into groundlessness.

--Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart (found here)

Hmmmmm....