Happy Friday! I'm sorry I haven't written in a couple of days. Wednesday night we ended up having a very impromptu dinner party (S&T, K&R and my divorcee friend across the street, C - it was her birthday, plus all the kids). We had a great time, but (and?) managed to kill 4 bottles of wine between just us girls...Thursday K and I tried to get up and go to the gym but we only made it as far as Starbucks and her couch. I had to meet my new/old friend G (JB's sister, who just moved to Tacoma) for the day, so I was gone until dinner time last night. We ended up packing and cooking for the trip; I never sat down at the computer once all day. This morning we're up and ready, J and T just got the quads loaded into the truck so I think we're about ready to go but couldn't leave for the weekend without a hello.
It was a relief to hear that your classes look good. Sorry to hear that your back is already bothering you. We were fortunate enough to have carpet in most of the school but there's still no cure for standing all day. Giving up cute shoes is the worst part of September. Yes, I think there may be a little mourning going on...but in a different way. What I was saying in my last post about not having a real identity? I don't think letting go of the feeble one I had is helping.
Actually J and I have been getting along pretty well these past few days; we went to see MC (as we talked about on the phone) and it appears to have settled a little dust temporarily. Hopefully this weekend will be good for us if I can kick this day-2 hangover and be a little nicer to everyone around me. My head still hurts.
I hope you have a wonderful weekend in Boston with W - stock up on the hugs and kisses and return Monday refreshed and ready to face the year.
Oh, and Barack the vote! indeed. McCain's choice this morning will certainly rock the minds of many, but I'm sticking to my man.
Love and wishes for a loving weekend (for us both) - A
Friday, August 29, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
but a bigger night...
In a nut shell:
- School went well; only 1 class looks particularly challenging
- C and I went out for drinks to celebrate, had fun, but left a little disappointed in our fave place
Rather than give you a play by play tonight, the bulleted points will have to do. Tonight I am going to focus on the historic festivities at the DNC and Barack's acceptance speech. Barack the vote!!
I'll give myself extra time to write in the morning.
Love, Barb
Big Day
Today I'm actually going to bother to dry my hair and wear it down rather than put it up wet in a clip (my summer style), so I don't have much time. Nonetheless I wanted to say hello and hope all is well. Will I hear from you later?
Love, Barb
Love, Barb
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Barking Dogs and Barking Spiders...and Letting Go
Today I am acutely aware of the physical challenges of going back to school. The biological freedom I celebrated at the beginning of vacation I have now relinquished to education. I sat through a morning faculty meeting with gas pains. When eventually I could pass a little of it in private in my classroom, I was afraid someone would walk in and be olfactory witness, wonder if something had died in my room. Ultimately, of course, the gas was a warning sign for greater things to come. And I'm not a fan of doing my business in public restrooms. Bowels aside, at the end of day 3 I would say the toughest part of being back is the strain on my back. And feet. The floors are killer--tile on concrete--and not meant for cute sandals, which I wore days 1 and 2. Today I wore running sneakers and it didn't help. After a summer of rest and relaxation, my body hurts. I feel like I should pop a handful of ibuprofen and go to bed.
Instead, I will stay up a while longer, drink some wine, and watch coverage of the Democratic Convention and today's historic nomination (which brought tears to my eyes). Eventually I'll make my way upstairs and try on the two outfits I have narrowed down as my choices for tomorrow to see which feels better. This year, because the weather is so good, sweat camouflage does not have to be the primary consideration.
I'm sorry to hear you are in such a funk. Maybe--in addition to being blue about things with J and feeling like your meds aren't right (as if that's not enough)--you're going through a sort of subconscious mourning? You're not going back, and hearing from old colleagues that you're missed brings that home. As much as it was your choice, there still needs to be a letting go...Maybe this is what letting go feels like--like those first days after breaking up with a bad boyfriend and ending a bad relationship, but still needing to spend time in bed with Ben and Jerry's ice cream watching romantic comedies. I wish I could join you...
Love, Barb
Instead, I will stay up a while longer, drink some wine, and watch coverage of the Democratic Convention and today's historic nomination (which brought tears to my eyes). Eventually I'll make my way upstairs and try on the two outfits I have narrowed down as my choices for tomorrow to see which feels better. This year, because the weather is so good, sweat camouflage does not have to be the primary consideration.
I'm sorry to hear you are in such a funk. Maybe--in addition to being blue about things with J and feeling like your meds aren't right (as if that's not enough)--you're going through a sort of subconscious mourning? You're not going back, and hearing from old colleagues that you're missed brings that home. As much as it was your choice, there still needs to be a letting go...Maybe this is what letting go feels like--like those first days after breaking up with a bad boyfriend and ending a bad relationship, but still needing to spend time in bed with Ben and Jerry's ice cream watching romantic comedies. I wish I could join you...
Love, Barb
Walmart or Why I Drink
Hey, look at that. Three days down already. You're already into the 170's. I got another text today from W (my friend from school who texted me yesterday) - this was a picture of another one of our colleagues making a face at the camera and it said "u suck". It a) cracked me up and b) pleasantly surprised me...am I really missed? Wow. That sure feels good. I mean, not good enough to go back, but... :)
Thanks for the note this morning. I wanted to respond but I have had a really difficult day in terms of motivation. Actually, the last few days, really. I could truly sit on the couch all day long and not move, save to eat and pee, if I didn't feel some vague obligation to fold a load of laundry or take a shower or go grocery shopping because we have no food in the house. Today I chose shopping, but I made the horrible mistake of going to Walmart, thinking I'd save some money. I did, on groceries, but I'll make up the savings in blood pressure medicine or wine, for the level of frustration one experiences when dealing with the ultimate level of human incompetence in that store. I swear, the absolute dregs of our community are employed there. Oh, and shop there, too, don't forget. So it's always an adventure even before you get to the checkout stand. Good lord. And I don't think of myself as a snob, really. I think I'm pretty trashy if held in comparison to some of my friends and neighbors. But honestly, wouldn't you think that changing from pajamas into clothing would be a standard human move before going to the store? I'm not even asking for a shower. Ok, enough of my rant. I don't know why I keep thinking it's such a bargain to go there when I come out feeling like this every single time.
That's as far as I got - Walmart. I came home, put the groceries away and immediately curled up on the couch and took a nap. What the f**#? Before that little trip, all I did, I'm not kidding, is take a shower and make my bed. No wonder I'm exhausted! Something's not right again - I'm tired and listless and I struggle to get out of bed/off the couch/get productive. I know I sound like a ridiculous hypochondriac saying that my meds aren't right all the time, but I really can't seem to get it right. I'm not on any anti-d right now because the doc thought I should treat the ADD instead and see what happens. It's not cutting it. God I hate being a nut.
Which may not help with my marriage, but in response to your post earlier today, I do have to say that I agree, most marriages probably do fall into that business relationship category and most people are ok with that for the most part. I think both people get busy with their own lives and kind of veer away from each other for the child-rearing years, and that's normal. I guess I see myself as not really having my own life, so much. I feel like I'm still dependent on J to define my life. I don't have a real career, I'm not really a dedicated stay-home-mom (because I keep ending up working in the end). I am not one of those mothers who gets all wrapped up in her kids and all of their comings and goings (i.e. soccer mom) so who am I really? J got busy with his own life and I just sit here - trying to figure out what it is I'm supposed to be busy doing. Maybe that's why I feel so lonely - I don't have that which most other moms and wives do have to sustain them. And I'm not saying that's anyone's fault - it's certainly mine. I chose not to pursue a career ( for whatever weird reason I don't know). Nothing seemed to be really calling me and now, here I am at 44, with no freakin' idea what to be when I grow up and the clock just keeps ticking away. Every day, I think I need to get my act together and every night I go to bed with my act in pieces, spread all over my life, no different than the day before.
Yeah, I know. Just do it. I f***ing hate that saying. If I could, don't you think I would?
Anyway, thsi afternoon is Open House at J's school so I've got to sign off and head out. I hope you had a good day and look forward to hearing about it in the a.m.
Love, A
Thanks for the note this morning. I wanted to respond but I have had a really difficult day in terms of motivation. Actually, the last few days, really. I could truly sit on the couch all day long and not move, save to eat and pee, if I didn't feel some vague obligation to fold a load of laundry or take a shower or go grocery shopping because we have no food in the house. Today I chose shopping, but I made the horrible mistake of going to Walmart, thinking I'd save some money. I did, on groceries, but I'll make up the savings in blood pressure medicine or wine, for the level of frustration one experiences when dealing with the ultimate level of human incompetence in that store. I swear, the absolute dregs of our community are employed there. Oh, and shop there, too, don't forget. So it's always an adventure even before you get to the checkout stand. Good lord. And I don't think of myself as a snob, really. I think I'm pretty trashy if held in comparison to some of my friends and neighbors. But honestly, wouldn't you think that changing from pajamas into clothing would be a standard human move before going to the store? I'm not even asking for a shower. Ok, enough of my rant. I don't know why I keep thinking it's such a bargain to go there when I come out feeling like this every single time.
That's as far as I got - Walmart. I came home, put the groceries away and immediately curled up on the couch and took a nap. What the f**#? Before that little trip, all I did, I'm not kidding, is take a shower and make my bed. No wonder I'm exhausted! Something's not right again - I'm tired and listless and I struggle to get out of bed/off the couch/get productive. I know I sound like a ridiculous hypochondriac saying that my meds aren't right all the time, but I really can't seem to get it right. I'm not on any anti-d right now because the doc thought I should treat the ADD instead and see what happens. It's not cutting it. God I hate being a nut.
Which may not help with my marriage, but in response to your post earlier today, I do have to say that I agree, most marriages probably do fall into that business relationship category and most people are ok with that for the most part. I think both people get busy with their own lives and kind of veer away from each other for the child-rearing years, and that's normal. I guess I see myself as not really having my own life, so much. I feel like I'm still dependent on J to define my life. I don't have a real career, I'm not really a dedicated stay-home-mom (because I keep ending up working in the end). I am not one of those mothers who gets all wrapped up in her kids and all of their comings and goings (i.e. soccer mom) so who am I really? J got busy with his own life and I just sit here - trying to figure out what it is I'm supposed to be busy doing. Maybe that's why I feel so lonely - I don't have that which most other moms and wives do have to sustain them. And I'm not saying that's anyone's fault - it's certainly mine. I chose not to pursue a career ( for whatever weird reason I don't know). Nothing seemed to be really calling me and now, here I am at 44, with no freakin' idea what to be when I grow up and the clock just keeps ticking away. Every day, I think I need to get my act together and every night I go to bed with my act in pieces, spread all over my life, no different than the day before.
Yeah, I know. Just do it. I f***ing hate that saying. If I could, don't you think I would?
Anyway, thsi afternoon is Open House at J's school so I've got to sign off and head out. I hope you had a good day and look forward to hearing about it in the a.m.
Love, A
I always give myself time for coffee. Always. I may start running short on blog time once we start our real schedule (tomorrow begins 7:15 start), but I will always have coffee. And for now I thought I could try to blog too.
Great talking to you! I appreciate you telling me that it helped. Sometimes I feel like such an expert from the outside looking in, but know I don't really know the first thing about marriage.
As I read your post just now it occurred to me that for many (most?) women it's enough to be appreciated as an effective personal assistant with sex privileges. Most marriages exist in the day to day as your describe yours. I'm not saying that they should be happy with them, but they do. Ultimately, I think the romance in most marriages fizzles, and the tell me all about yourself courtship conversations that go on until the wee hours are far gone. Children take away opportunities for spontaneous sex, and suddenly marriage is a business agreement and living arrangement. Spouses function more like relatives sometimes.
What an odd place to stop, but it's time to run. I'll write more later. Have a good day. J
Great talking to you! I appreciate you telling me that it helped. Sometimes I feel like such an expert from the outside looking in, but know I don't really know the first thing about marriage.
As I read your post just now it occurred to me that for many (most?) women it's enough to be appreciated as an effective personal assistant with sex privileges. Most marriages exist in the day to day as your describe yours. I'm not saying that they should be happy with them, but they do. Ultimately, I think the romance in most marriages fizzles, and the tell me all about yourself courtship conversations that go on until the wee hours are far gone. Children take away opportunities for spontaneous sex, and suddenly marriage is a business agreement and living arrangement. Spouses function more like relatives sometimes.
What an odd place to stop, but it's time to run. I'll write more later. Have a good day. J
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Out of My Head
Good morning B,
How nice it was to hear your voice this afternoon and to bounce some thoughts and ideas off you. You truly were helpful (and, as my good friend Barb always says, "I'm not just blowin' sunshine up your a**"). In fact what's funny is that the concept of talking to someone was at the heart of our conversation with MA today. I tried to tell J that I need to process things out loud - starting from the very beginning of an issue right up to a final decision. He, on the other hand, apparently doesn't need to do that; he processes all the information in his head until he comes to a final decision, then, if he feels it warrants a second opinion (I guess?) he asks someone else what they think about it. He says he gets frustrated when I say things like "I'm thinking of doing the PTA newsletter, what do you think?" because what he hears is "Make this decision for me." As much as I try to tell him that I don't need a decision, I just need a sounding board, he doesn't know how to do that. He even told MA today that he can't do it, not even for a few minutes. I need to come to him with some pretty good idea of what it is that I want the outcome to be, then he can help me with the final answer. I think. I think that's what he's saying.
So how do I deal with that? Honest to God, if I had to process a major issue in my head, I would be even crazier than I am right now. The first thing I did when that woman asked me to write the newsletter was to email you and call K. I didn't even think about it first!! That's just the way I operate. I also tried to explain to him that if I did all that processing in my head and came to a decision on what I wanted to do, then my heart would already be set on it. What if he then shot the idea down? At least in the longer, joint process, I can see that “veto”, for lack of a better word, coming before I commit myself to a certain decision. I don't think he knows what it means to just listen, not solve anything. His idea of listening, in that case, is to read the paper/fold laundry/thumb through the mail/watch the game/discipline the kids/empty the garbage while I talk.
It all comes down to a really basic premise that maybe my self-deprecation doesn't help, but is not without foundation. I simply think he’s not interested in me/my thoughts/my ideas/my life in general. As it relates to him, sure. Do I keep the house running? Great. My opinion on his clothing, etc? You bet. Planning things like vacations and evenings out and getting a sitter and making sure the kids have school supplies? I’m important there, absolutely. But in the end, what would he really miss about me that a personal assistant couldn’t cover? I don’t make him laugh (unless I’m the butt of a joke – and I don’t mean that in a mean way, I mean like if I do something dorky); he rarely, if ever asks my opinion on anything (I can’t remember the last time he did). Yes, sex matters. He’d miss that, I guess, although it’s not like he’s getting much of it now. He doesn’t take any real interest in my career (he says because he has nowhere to start from – since I don’t know what I want to be, there’s nothing to talk about). Here’s a classic example: your sister M gets caught having an affair because V goes through her phone records…wow, J wouldn’t even think to read this blog if I left it open on the screen. He would see what it was and click out without thinking twice. And that wouldn’t be in an effort to respect my privacy; it would truly be because it wouldn’t interest him in the slightest.
Like I’ve said earlier, he doesn’t really know anything about me. I think he used to, but over the years, he has become so consumed with his work and whatever goes on in his own head, he’s totally lost touch with the fact that I’m even here. And it’s not just me – I have to prompt him to ask the kids about things in their lives – I have to say “Hey, JJ, why don’t you tell Dad what cool thing happened at school today?” because the question itself is very unlikely to pop out of J’s mouth on its own. Sometimes, I have to call J’s attention to the fact that the kids are here – like if he’s leaving or arriving, he’ll say goodbye/hello to me, but often forgets to acknowledge them.
Yes, he goes to all the kids’ games and school functions and conferences. Yes, in the summer, he gets out there and plays ball with Jack. He calls Casey on a regular basis. But in the grand scheme of things, I feel like he only does as much as he can handle, as much as works for him, around his schedule and around his interests. Can I tell you how many times I have endured Sponge Bob with JJ, just because he wants me to sit there and watch it with him? How many rated G movies I’ve taken him and all of his friends to, usually fighting a nap the whole way through every one? How often I run to Target for just one thing, but stay the extra 20 minutes so the kids can browse the toy section? This is my life. I do it every day. Would I choose those activities for myself? No. But I choose them because they are things that strengthen my relationship with my kids. All M ever wants to do with us in the evening is to watch a movie – do you think J could handle that? Only (and it’s only happened like three times) if the movie appeals to him and he’s not too tired, etc. Sometimes the kids will want to play a board game. He will almost always play only if Casey’s here. Otherwise, he’s not interested.
Arghh…I got pulled away from the computer for an hour or so there and now I’ve lost my momentum. Maybe this is a good start to getting it all out of my head. For now, enough. I hope you have a great day at school (ok, I’m ambitious, but genuine)…looking forward to hearing your morning coffee thoughts. (Oh, and the fact that you get up and have enough time to have coffee in the morning blows me away. I am such a get-up-shower-out-the-door-late-every-day person. I marvel at people like you.)
Thanks for listening today! Love you, A
How nice it was to hear your voice this afternoon and to bounce some thoughts and ideas off you. You truly were helpful (and, as my good friend Barb always says, "I'm not just blowin' sunshine up your a**"). In fact what's funny is that the concept of talking to someone was at the heart of our conversation with MA today. I tried to tell J that I need to process things out loud - starting from the very beginning of an issue right up to a final decision. He, on the other hand, apparently doesn't need to do that; he processes all the information in his head until he comes to a final decision, then, if he feels it warrants a second opinion (I guess?) he asks someone else what they think about it. He says he gets frustrated when I say things like "I'm thinking of doing the PTA newsletter, what do you think?" because what he hears is "Make this decision for me." As much as I try to tell him that I don't need a decision, I just need a sounding board, he doesn't know how to do that. He even told MA today that he can't do it, not even for a few minutes. I need to come to him with some pretty good idea of what it is that I want the outcome to be, then he can help me with the final answer. I think. I think that's what he's saying.
So how do I deal with that? Honest to God, if I had to process a major issue in my head, I would be even crazier than I am right now. The first thing I did when that woman asked me to write the newsletter was to email you and call K. I didn't even think about it first!! That's just the way I operate. I also tried to explain to him that if I did all that processing in my head and came to a decision on what I wanted to do, then my heart would already be set on it. What if he then shot the idea down? At least in the longer, joint process, I can see that “veto”, for lack of a better word, coming before I commit myself to a certain decision. I don't think he knows what it means to just listen, not solve anything. His idea of listening, in that case, is to read the paper/fold laundry/thumb through the mail/watch the game/discipline the kids/empty the garbage while I talk.
It all comes down to a really basic premise that maybe my self-deprecation doesn't help, but is not without foundation. I simply think he’s not interested in me/my thoughts/my ideas/my life in general. As it relates to him, sure. Do I keep the house running? Great. My opinion on his clothing, etc? You bet. Planning things like vacations and evenings out and getting a sitter and making sure the kids have school supplies? I’m important there, absolutely. But in the end, what would he really miss about me that a personal assistant couldn’t cover? I don’t make him laugh (unless I’m the butt of a joke – and I don’t mean that in a mean way, I mean like if I do something dorky); he rarely, if ever asks my opinion on anything (I can’t remember the last time he did). Yes, sex matters. He’d miss that, I guess, although it’s not like he’s getting much of it now. He doesn’t take any real interest in my career (he says because he has nowhere to start from – since I don’t know what I want to be, there’s nothing to talk about). Here’s a classic example: your sister M gets caught having an affair because V goes through her phone records…wow, J wouldn’t even think to read this blog if I left it open on the screen. He would see what it was and click out without thinking twice. And that wouldn’t be in an effort to respect my privacy; it would truly be because it wouldn’t interest him in the slightest.
Like I’ve said earlier, he doesn’t really know anything about me. I think he used to, but over the years, he has become so consumed with his work and whatever goes on in his own head, he’s totally lost touch with the fact that I’m even here. And it’s not just me – I have to prompt him to ask the kids about things in their lives – I have to say “Hey, JJ, why don’t you tell Dad what cool thing happened at school today?” because the question itself is very unlikely to pop out of J’s mouth on its own. Sometimes, I have to call J’s attention to the fact that the kids are here – like if he’s leaving or arriving, he’ll say goodbye/hello to me, but often forgets to acknowledge them.
Yes, he goes to all the kids’ games and school functions and conferences. Yes, in the summer, he gets out there and plays ball with Jack. He calls Casey on a regular basis. But in the grand scheme of things, I feel like he only does as much as he can handle, as much as works for him, around his schedule and around his interests. Can I tell you how many times I have endured Sponge Bob with JJ, just because he wants me to sit there and watch it with him? How many rated G movies I’ve taken him and all of his friends to, usually fighting a nap the whole way through every one? How often I run to Target for just one thing, but stay the extra 20 minutes so the kids can browse the toy section? This is my life. I do it every day. Would I choose those activities for myself? No. But I choose them because they are things that strengthen my relationship with my kids. All M ever wants to do with us in the evening is to watch a movie – do you think J could handle that? Only (and it’s only happened like three times) if the movie appeals to him and he’s not too tired, etc. Sometimes the kids will want to play a board game. He will almost always play only if Casey’s here. Otherwise, he’s not interested.
Arghh…I got pulled away from the computer for an hour or so there and now I’ve lost my momentum. Maybe this is a good start to getting it all out of my head. For now, enough. I hope you have a great day at school (ok, I’m ambitious, but genuine)…looking forward to hearing your morning coffee thoughts. (Oh, and the fact that you get up and have enough time to have coffee in the morning blows me away. I am such a get-up-shower-out-the-door-late-every-day person. I marvel at people like you.)
Thanks for listening today! Love you, A
Seeking unity
And so begins the countdown to Vegas. Sorry I didn't write/call yesterday - I was lazing around but by 3:00 I had to got out for awhile...got busy doing other stuff and ended up with S&T for dinner. I was relieved to hear that you didn't come home from Day One, down a bottle of wine and cry yourself to sleep. That would have been my entry had I had to be there yesterday. And the convocation, etc. - that's all the same stuff we have. But the kids don't come until after labor day, that's why I guess I thought the kids were with you all week. It's nice to have those couple of days to psyche yourself up.
I'm struggling a bit with writing this morning. To tell the truth, I was struggling yesterday too, which is probably why I didn't write. J and I had a particularly difficult day on Sunday (yes, in the city, with the concert we almost blew off) and I think I'm still trying to recover. We have a counseling appointment today but my heart isn't in it. I know we need it, don't get me wrong; the conversation we had Sunday seemed to end at the point where we both wondered if our relationship is ever going to be fixable, based on our opposing views on marriage and parenting.
The focus of today's session is supposed to be coming up with a plan for dealing with M together, as J feels that M is ruining our family and our marriage. Honestly, I think M is challenging and that dealing with him separately, as we deal with everything, is making it much more difficult. But I think we're doing a fine job of ruining our family and our marriage all by ourselves. I resented the blame; M's behavior undoubtably causes us to maneuver the 24/7 walk on ice and I agree that we need help with that - serious help. But to say that it's tearing us apart and destroying our marriage, I think, is unfair. It only seems that way because we're letting it happen.
I feel so overwhelmed, B, with the amount of problems we have, I hardly know where to start. I don't know how to go in there and start talking without just blurting out every horrible hateful thing that I can't take back. I have never been one for diplomacy or articulation; J is extremely good at it. So much so, I sometimes think, that he ends up never saying what really needs to be said even thought no one ends up with hurt feelings. No that that's a bad thing, being nice I mean. I just feel like we dance around truths all the time and I'm tired of dancing.
Anyway, my to-do list is a mile long today and I need to get some of it done before we go at 1:00. If you're up for a conversation after work, I'll call when I get home. And if you don't answer, I will totally get it. ;-)
Love, A
I'm struggling a bit with writing this morning. To tell the truth, I was struggling yesterday too, which is probably why I didn't write. J and I had a particularly difficult day on Sunday (yes, in the city, with the concert we almost blew off) and I think I'm still trying to recover. We have a counseling appointment today but my heart isn't in it. I know we need it, don't get me wrong; the conversation we had Sunday seemed to end at the point where we both wondered if our relationship is ever going to be fixable, based on our opposing views on marriage and parenting.
The focus of today's session is supposed to be coming up with a plan for dealing with M together, as J feels that M is ruining our family and our marriage. Honestly, I think M is challenging and that dealing with him separately, as we deal with everything, is making it much more difficult. But I think we're doing a fine job of ruining our family and our marriage all by ourselves. I resented the blame; M's behavior undoubtably causes us to maneuver the 24/7 walk on ice and I agree that we need help with that - serious help. But to say that it's tearing us apart and destroying our marriage, I think, is unfair. It only seems that way because we're letting it happen.
I feel so overwhelmed, B, with the amount of problems we have, I hardly know where to start. I don't know how to go in there and start talking without just blurting out every horrible hateful thing that I can't take back. I have never been one for diplomacy or articulation; J is extremely good at it. So much so, I sometimes think, that he ends up never saying what really needs to be said even thought no one ends up with hurt feelings. No that that's a bad thing, being nice I mean. I just feel like we dance around truths all the time and I'm tired of dancing.
Anyway, my to-do list is a mile long today and I need to get some of it done before we go at 1:00. If you're up for a conversation after work, I'll call when I get home. And if you don't answer, I will totally get it. ;-)
Love, A
A New Routine?
Good morning,
Honestly, I wasn't sure what to write about (because yay, I was being silly; it was great! was not willing itself to come out at the keyboard), and since you didn't write in the morning, I didn't have a respond to Amanda's entry option. Not to make you feel guilty, but I wondered if everything was okay, given that you said you'd still be lazing around until mid afternoon...Ultimately, I was tired, had to go to my parents' to help them out with some forms, then got totally wrapped up the the Democratic convention--the Ted Kennedy tribute, Michelle Obama's speech--until I went to bed.
Convocation is a teacher event. The superintendent, other district administrators, the first selectman, all speak to/at us all morning while we fidget. Then they give mums (an outdoor plant given as a desk size arrangement)(no joke) to people in the district who went the extra mile and recognize people for years of service 10, 15, 20, etc. They hold it at the high school auditorium, which is convenient for me, because after that they serve us lunch at the HS and then we have our first faculty meeting. We end up with a little time at the end of the day to work in our rooms, or discover that our computers aren't working, or whatever. Today and tomorrow are workshops days and time to get ready in our classrooms. Thursday the kids come in for 2 days before the long weekend--and the end of my dry spell. :)
Was it nice to see people? Sure, especially friends I hadn't seen since the wedding in Maine, and the people in my department. Am I now happy to be back? Not quite. I'm not sure I'll get there until the first day of school, when I see the freshman walking awkwardly around with their new back packs and school maps....
Time to get dressed. I'll try to write again tonight, but if I don't will make it a point to keep this as my coffee time. Hope all is well. Barb
Honestly, I wasn't sure what to write about (because yay, I was being silly; it was great! was not willing itself to come out at the keyboard), and since you didn't write in the morning, I didn't have a respond to Amanda's entry option. Not to make you feel guilty, but I wondered if everything was okay, given that you said you'd still be lazing around until mid afternoon...Ultimately, I was tired, had to go to my parents' to help them out with some forms, then got totally wrapped up the the Democratic convention--the Ted Kennedy tribute, Michelle Obama's speech--until I went to bed.
Convocation is a teacher event. The superintendent, other district administrators, the first selectman, all speak to/at us all morning while we fidget. Then they give mums (an outdoor plant given as a desk size arrangement)(no joke) to people in the district who went the extra mile and recognize people for years of service 10, 15, 20, etc. They hold it at the high school auditorium, which is convenient for me, because after that they serve us lunch at the HS and then we have our first faculty meeting. We end up with a little time at the end of the day to work in our rooms, or discover that our computers aren't working, or whatever. Today and tomorrow are workshops days and time to get ready in our classrooms. Thursday the kids come in for 2 days before the long weekend--and the end of my dry spell. :)
Was it nice to see people? Sure, especially friends I hadn't seen since the wedding in Maine, and the people in my department. Am I now happy to be back? Not quite. I'm not sure I'll get there until the first day of school, when I see the freshman walking awkwardly around with their new back packs and school maps....
Time to get dressed. I'll try to write again tonight, but if I don't will make it a point to keep this as my coffee time. Hope all is well. Barb
Monday, August 25, 2008
First Day...?
Hey Barb,
I wondered if you would write today; either to tell me how awful it was to be back, how it wasn't so bad, or how it was really quite nice. Seeing as how you haven't written, I'll assume you're just tired, regardless of whether or not the day went well. But do tell, when you fell like it! I hope for you that it was less painful than anticipated, maybe even a little refreshing to see everyone again and get caught up. What is your schedule this week? I thought it was odd that you start the same day as the kids. Don't you have like a week of teacher-only stuff? Training, etc? Anyway, good thoughts for tomorrow and the rest of the week too.
Just wanted to see how your day went - looking forward to hearing from you soon,
Love A
I wondered if you would write today; either to tell me how awful it was to be back, how it wasn't so bad, or how it was really quite nice. Seeing as how you haven't written, I'll assume you're just tired, regardless of whether or not the day went well. But do tell, when you fell like it! I hope for you that it was less painful than anticipated, maybe even a little refreshing to see everyone again and get caught up. What is your schedule this week? I thought it was odd that you start the same day as the kids. Don't you have like a week of teacher-only stuff? Training, etc? Anyway, good thoughts for tomorrow and the rest of the week too.
Just wanted to see how your day went - looking forward to hearing from you soon,
Love A
Procrastination
Good Morning, Amanda,
Coffee hour begins at 8, convocation at 9, and I'm stalling. I like my own coffee better....
Thanks for your note. I got it last night when I finally came in from the pool at 7:30....D had left at 5:30 but I stayed out side. I swear I saw every person today that I identified as a teacher over the course of the summer; and we all exchanged well wishes....Anyway, when I came in I read your note and burst into tears. I don't think I've ever cried about the end of summer before.
Honestly I do think there was an element of bittersweet, some happy reflections in the flood of tears--knowing it was a great summer; feeling happy and settled in my life here; feeling likable, knowing I have made some acquaintances. But following right behind those drops were the ones screaming Don't make me go, don't let this summer end.... Alas, summer vacation is over. I'm due at school in an hour.
Deep breaths indeed.
Love, Barb
Coffee hour begins at 8, convocation at 9, and I'm stalling. I like my own coffee better....
Thanks for your note. I got it last night when I finally came in from the pool at 7:30....D had left at 5:30 but I stayed out side. I swear I saw every person today that I identified as a teacher over the course of the summer; and we all exchanged well wishes....Anyway, when I came in I read your note and burst into tears. I don't think I've ever cried about the end of summer before.
Honestly I do think there was an element of bittersweet, some happy reflections in the flood of tears--knowing it was a great summer; feeling happy and settled in my life here; feeling likable, knowing I have made some acquaintances. But following right behind those drops were the ones screaming Don't make me go, don't let this summer end.... Alas, summer vacation is over. I'm due at school in an hour.
Deep breaths indeed.
Love, Barb
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Breathe...
Hey there,
Wanted to let you know we wouldn't be home from the city until after 11 tonight, so I will plan to call you this week around your dinner time. Does that work? Since we don't start for another week, I'll still be lazing around mid-afternoon. I hope you had a terrific day with D and enjoyed the last bit of sunshine and free time. Good luck tomorrow; I'm sending white light and extra air so you can breathe.
Love you lots! A
Wanted to let you know we wouldn't be home from the city until after 11 tonight, so I will plan to call you this week around your dinner time. Does that work? Since we don't start for another week, I'll still be lazing around mid-afternoon. I hope you had a terrific day with D and enjoyed the last bit of sunshine and free time. Good luck tomorrow; I'm sending white light and extra air so you can breathe.
Love you lots! A
Again, Same Person
...on more than one count. (SO glad the kids were suspended!) No manners, decorum, personal responsibility. Those things have been replaced by the exhibitionist trait that's been cultivated by technology and reality TV. Let me post pictures of myself to the world (I hate My Space) because you care, or should, because it's all about me, me, me. The yahoos at the pool were mentioning someone's new boobs that they saw on My Space, and I think, of course. And I wonder why they think I want to hear them burping and farting? Because they parade their entire lives for public consumption. And honestly, that was my one hesitation about beginning this blog. Would it be the grown up version of flashing my boobs or eating a banana on camera? Obviously, I came to a different conclusion. I decided that this writing exercise with you and the world of those frat boy idiots were two entirely different things.
Laundry is in, coffee tastes good. Sun is shining. I haven't had my AC on in almost a week. I can't remember when, if ever, I didn't have to run the air for a week in August. Unheard of. Anyway, pool opens at 10 and D arrives at 11.
I hope you have a fun date. Call if you get in at a decent hour and feel like talking (a crap shoot, I'm sure). If it doesn't' work out tonight, keep in mind our time change and my schedule change. By 9 I wind down and 10 (9:30 in winter) is lights out...(Last year I discovered I was much more productive, patient, pleasant when I woke up rested--and sans hangover. Took me long enough).
Love you, and thank so much for being such a big part in my wonderful summer....Barb
Laundry is in, coffee tastes good. Sun is shining. I haven't had my AC on in almost a week. I can't remember when, if ever, I didn't have to run the air for a week in August. Unheard of. Anyway, pool opens at 10 and D arrives at 11.
I hope you have a fun date. Call if you get in at a decent hour and feel like talking (a crap shoot, I'm sure). If it doesn't' work out tonight, keep in mind our time change and my schedule change. By 9 I wind down and 10 (9:30 in winter) is lights out...(Last year I discovered I was much more productive, patient, pleasant when I woke up rested--and sans hangover. Took me long enough).
Love you, and thank so much for being such a big part in my wonderful summer....Barb
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Common Sense, Courtesy. Use it.
It's refreshing to hear that we share almost identical frustrations about the students. My colleagues last year, save just a couple, really didn't feel the same way as I did; I would make comments and I receive these pitiful stares, as if to say, "Really, A? You really feel that way? You shouldn't be in this job." As opposed to what I believe to be a more realistic and planet-saving approach: "No shit, these kids (and their parents) need to be held accountable for their behavior." In the end, all the educators who baby and coddle these kids end up in the group of people I hold responsible for the yahoo idiots at your pool this afternoon. I got so tired of listening to teachers give 40 chances to turn in late work; here's a classic example from my school. My friend H, a first year teacher from the heart of Texas (military wife to boot) discovers that a kid has plagiarized his senior paper (required to graduate, mind you.) She brings it to the attention of the administration who, instead of failing him, decides to give the student another chance to write the paper himself. I am not kidding when I tell you that he plagiarized it a second time, got caught and was given a third chance to write it himself. At the end of the school year, H's husband was transferred to Virginia, but she told us she probably would have left anyway. In Texas, she told us, that boy woulda been expelled. Y'all don't know nothin' about discipline up here. And you know what? In all of that southern conservatism, I think she's totally right.
I wanted to comment too on the kids at the pool. The unfortunate thing about the students we're turning out of our schools is that their parents are only marginally (if at all) more civilized. Their role models are crap (at least in this area of meth labs and trailer parks and WalMart hell); there's this teeny-tiny part of me that wants to ask "How do they stand a chance?" but then I think for God's sake, can't they look around and see that the rest of the world is normal? I don't mean to sound politically incorrect (at best) or heartless and cold (at worst) but really, I have no patience for the infiltration of frat boys into the real world, where the rest of us (if a dwindling breed) do have filters, manners, etiquette and decorum. This is exactly what makes me feel like I'm 100 years old; that I get all twisted up when I'm stopped behind a pickup at the light and my ten-year-old asks me "What does that mean?" pointing to a bumper sticker that says "Nice people swallow." Sure, funny in private company (I'm all for inappropriate humor in my living room after the kids go to bed) but honestly? I have to have my kid asking about s**t like that??
Which brings up the topic of censoring, of course. Would I vote for a law banning offensive bumper stickers? Would the ever-popular rebel flag be included in "offensive"? (This would take a good third of the cars around here off the road.) I suppose in the spirit of the Constitution, I'd have to say no. Would I like it if people didn't feel the need to express f***ing everything to the entire world? Yeah. Common sense. Courtesy. Use it.
So don't think that even though I laughed my ass off about the rug-muncher thing in the end, that I wasn't even more pissed off once I understood it. In fact, both boys were suspended for three days, so the admin did their part. But did I get an apology from either kid? Did either Jason or Cody's parents insist on an apology letter, did any of them personally call me, did either one of those boys get grounded for a full school year, as would have all happened in my house? Not to mention a good ass beating? Nope. Nothing. Their fathers probably thought it was funny, their mothers probably figured I was a b***ch and deserved it. I did rally up the teachers in the name of hate crimes, but that school is full of hate- so much racism and redneckedness (good one, eh?) I couldn't stand it. It felt like such a losing battle, particularly when the kids are being bred to hate at home.
That's part of why I decided to just work on my little corner of the world - my own personal teenager. And believe me, that's about killing me as it is. Tonight he's battling with J, so I'm a little off the hook; it's better and worse than battling with him myself. My blood pressure doesn't go up as much, but the tension in the house is unbearable. I won't get into it right now, but these next three years are going to put me to the test, I tell ya. I'm going to need much more therapy, in whatever form it presents itself - hopefully I will find a comfortable balance between counseling, friends, effective meds and wine. (Yeah, I know the "effective" part of meds depends on the wine - I'm working on it.)
For now, I'm going to sign off... thanks for being up tonight and responding. Sorry you're missing W so much - only 6 days to go, if you count Friday, which doesn't really count. I'll only be around tomorrow until noon my time, then we're heading off to the big city for our "date". So if I don't catch up with you on the phone, let's plan for one night during the week?
Love and good wishes for a wonderful last day of summer tomorrow,
A
I wanted to comment too on the kids at the pool. The unfortunate thing about the students we're turning out of our schools is that their parents are only marginally (if at all) more civilized. Their role models are crap (at least in this area of meth labs and trailer parks and WalMart hell); there's this teeny-tiny part of me that wants to ask "How do they stand a chance?" but then I think for God's sake, can't they look around and see that the rest of the world is normal? I don't mean to sound politically incorrect (at best) or heartless and cold (at worst) but really, I have no patience for the infiltration of frat boys into the real world, where the rest of us (if a dwindling breed) do have filters, manners, etiquette and decorum. This is exactly what makes me feel like I'm 100 years old; that I get all twisted up when I'm stopped behind a pickup at the light and my ten-year-old asks me "What does that mean?" pointing to a bumper sticker that says "Nice people swallow." Sure, funny in private company (I'm all for inappropriate humor in my living room after the kids go to bed) but honestly? I have to have my kid asking about s**t like that??
Which brings up the topic of censoring, of course. Would I vote for a law banning offensive bumper stickers? Would the ever-popular rebel flag be included in "offensive"? (This would take a good third of the cars around here off the road.) I suppose in the spirit of the Constitution, I'd have to say no. Would I like it if people didn't feel the need to express f***ing everything to the entire world? Yeah. Common sense. Courtesy. Use it.
So don't think that even though I laughed my ass off about the rug-muncher thing in the end, that I wasn't even more pissed off once I understood it. In fact, both boys were suspended for three days, so the admin did their part. But did I get an apology from either kid? Did either Jason or Cody's parents insist on an apology letter, did any of them personally call me, did either one of those boys get grounded for a full school year, as would have all happened in my house? Not to mention a good ass beating? Nope. Nothing. Their fathers probably thought it was funny, their mothers probably figured I was a b***ch and deserved it. I did rally up the teachers in the name of hate crimes, but that school is full of hate- so much racism and redneckedness (good one, eh?) I couldn't stand it. It felt like such a losing battle, particularly when the kids are being bred to hate at home.
That's part of why I decided to just work on my little corner of the world - my own personal teenager. And believe me, that's about killing me as it is. Tonight he's battling with J, so I'm a little off the hook; it's better and worse than battling with him myself. My blood pressure doesn't go up as much, but the tension in the house is unbearable. I won't get into it right now, but these next three years are going to put me to the test, I tell ya. I'm going to need much more therapy, in whatever form it presents itself - hopefully I will find a comfortable balance between counseling, friends, effective meds and wine. (Yeah, I know the "effective" part of meds depends on the wine - I'm working on it.)
For now, I'm going to sign off... thanks for being up tonight and responding. Sorry you're missing W so much - only 6 days to go, if you count Friday, which doesn't really count. I'll only be around tomorrow until noon my time, then we're heading off to the big city for our "date". So if I don't catch up with you on the phone, let's plan for one night during the week?
Love and good wishes for a wonderful last day of summer tomorrow,
A
Question
Amanda! What the hell did you think that meant?... Kids are idiots. That's the kind of sh_t that would get me all worked up, seven sorts of pissed off (as I like to say), insisting administration suspend the kids because it's directed at a teacher, and well, it's a hate crime!!! I'd get all this school is full of homophobes and I'd regale my colleagues in the teacher's lounge with the details of my abuse and the administration's ineffectiveness and unwillingness to address the issue, and in the end I'd just have another story in my why-I-hate-teaching-and-teenagers arsenal.
There are too many to count at this point. In fact, that arsenal has been upgraded to why-I-hate-teaching-and-teenagers-and-their-parents...and yet when a career opportunity, like the one I applied for earlier this week, presents itself I hem and haw about it. Should I really? At this point is it worth it? Could I give up all the sun therapy (not that I'd need it if I were in a different career)?
It's crazy. To think, when we were in our mid-20s we had such dreams, such unrealistic expectations that every day would be Stand and Deliver. And we had such disdain for the jaded teachers with whom we used to smoked in the teacher's lounge (was that even in this lifetime?) who looked forward to the next vacation when the last one was over. Now I wonder how can a teacher, after a certain amount of time, be anything other than jaded and ready for vacation?
Don't get me wrong. It doesn't suck 100 percent of the time. I still have my moments. I make connections--be it with the girls in Biology who notice my Coach sunglasses and Tiffany jewelry and feel more inspired to listen to me go on about the discovery of the structure of DNA, or the socially awkward boy in A&P whose work ethic I go out of my way to praise because it will take him so much farther than being cool like most of the rest in his midst and whom I go out of my way to ask, are you considering a career in medicine? But more often I am battling the text messaging and eye rolling and the helicopter moms who are micromanaging (their kid's report of what happens in) my class to explain why Susie only has a B but deserves an A.
And so, after a really great summer--getting back in touch with you, starting our blog, getting into a good habit of writing daily; spending time with my nieces and nephews, especially S (who is freaked out about the hard little lump under her right nipple, and told me so, whom I then counseled (along with her mother) about breast buds and growing up); vacationing in Maine and Newport with W and L et. al. ; experimenting (and failing) with enough diets to remember why I have eschewed them for the past ten years; connecting with D in meaningful ways during her crazy cancer journey; and reading 11 books, thereby rejuvenating my love of them, while basking in the healing warmth of the sun--it shouldn't come as a surprise that I am wondering what I can come up with to get out of this new school year. Could I fake a nervous breakdown and would my ob-gyn sign disability papers? All right, maybe that's extreme. So, how soon can I take a sick day?....
One day remains of this healing vacation before I throw myself back in the ring. I'll be up early to do laundry before D comes over at 11. Perhaps I'll write over coffee and during the dry cycle.
Hope dinner and your night are good.
Love, Barb
There are too many to count at this point. In fact, that arsenal has been upgraded to why-I-hate-teaching-and-teenagers-and-their-parents...and yet when a career opportunity, like the one I applied for earlier this week, presents itself I hem and haw about it. Should I really? At this point is it worth it? Could I give up all the sun therapy (not that I'd need it if I were in a different career)?
It's crazy. To think, when we were in our mid-20s we had such dreams, such unrealistic expectations that every day would be Stand and Deliver. And we had such disdain for the jaded teachers with whom we used to smoked in the teacher's lounge (was that even in this lifetime?) who looked forward to the next vacation when the last one was over. Now I wonder how can a teacher, after a certain amount of time, be anything other than jaded and ready for vacation?
Don't get me wrong. It doesn't suck 100 percent of the time. I still have my moments. I make connections--be it with the girls in Biology who notice my Coach sunglasses and Tiffany jewelry and feel more inspired to listen to me go on about the discovery of the structure of DNA, or the socially awkward boy in A&P whose work ethic I go out of my way to praise because it will take him so much farther than being cool like most of the rest in his midst and whom I go out of my way to ask, are you considering a career in medicine? But more often I am battling the text messaging and eye rolling and the helicopter moms who are micromanaging (their kid's report of what happens in) my class to explain why Susie only has a B but deserves an A.
And so, after a really great summer--getting back in touch with you, starting our blog, getting into a good habit of writing daily; spending time with my nieces and nephews, especially S (who is freaked out about the hard little lump under her right nipple, and told me so, whom I then counseled (along with her mother) about breast buds and growing up); vacationing in Maine and Newport with W and L et. al. ; experimenting (and failing) with enough diets to remember why I have eschewed them for the past ten years; connecting with D in meaningful ways during her crazy cancer journey; and reading 11 books, thereby rejuvenating my love of them, while basking in the healing warmth of the sun--it shouldn't come as a surprise that I am wondering what I can come up with to get out of this new school year. Could I fake a nervous breakdown and would my ob-gyn sign disability papers? All right, maybe that's extreme. So, how soon can I take a sick day?....
One day remains of this healing vacation before I throw myself back in the ring. I'll be up early to do laundry before D comes over at 11. Perhaps I'll write over coffee and during the dry cycle.
Hope dinner and your night are good.
Love, Barb
Why I Hate Teenagers
So here's where I tell you that the long-distance relationship has it's perks, from a married standpoint. I can't get away from J long enough to miss him, so I think we get bored. Ah, to look forward to getting laid - it's been awhile since I felt that. And try not to say that out loud to the kids, you know, by accident. I'm glad you do get to spend one more weekend with W and how sweet of him to take care of you while he's gone. Someday I'll get to meet him...? We should start thinking about next summer. (Although I'm trying to talk J into a NY trip this fall - Mom's fading and I know he doesn't want to go, but agrees that he should. We'll see. If we get back there I will definitely make plans to come out see you.)
It's dinner time now and I should start cooking but thought I'd share the text story with you for fun. I don't know what your school's policy on cell phones is, but at WRHS, there is constant usage and no real consequences, so teachers kind of make up their own rules (even though no one will back us in the end).
So I'm standing up in front of the class talking away, or whatever I'm doing, and I notice that Cody is reading a text message under his desk. I said,
"Hey Cody, give me your phone."
"Why?" (oh, do I need to type out the whole 2 minute argument here, before I actually got the phone? No, probably not.) He hands me the phone. Normally, I would set it on my desk, forget about it, then at the end of class, either give it back with a warning (to a nice kid) or not (to a dickhead). But on this day, for whatever reason, I was feeling a little goofy, so I opened up the phone and said,
"So who ya texting, Cody?"
"No one."
"No one. Hmm. Let's see." And, techno-tard that I am, I manage to push all the right buttons to pull up the latest inbox messages, which read "Mrs. M is a rug muncher." Wow. Ow.
I notice it's from Jason. Jason sits right behind Cody, but I know in my heart that this isn't a message from that Jason, because that Jason wouldn't ever write something like that, that Jason can barely make eye contact with a worm he's so shy. "Hmm. Jason." I look up, at Cody, at Jason. "Really? Who's Jason? Because I know it's not our Jason. He wouldn't write something like this."
"Nobody" Cody says.
And then the chorus, from the whole class, begins. "What's it say? Read it! Read it out loud! What'd he say?"
"Nobody." I say. "Well it must be somebody, because they texted you."
Cody says, squirming a little, "I don't know his last name."
"Really?" I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "You've got friends who know your number and you don't know their last names?"
Cody's getting nervous. "It's some guy I met at the skatepark."
"And he knows me?" I'm shocked. Weird.
Cody says "No."
"Oh, so this is a different Mrs. M?" And then, again, the whole class starts up,
"What's it say? Read it! Read it out loud! What'd he say?"
"No, I don't know. I don't even know the guy." Cody protests, all but shouting.
At this point, I decide not to argue with him anymore and put the phone down on my desk. At that very moment, Zach, major-dork-who-thinks-he's-major-cool, raises his hand.
"Yeah, Zach?"
"I know what it says."
I think, God you're an idiot. Shut up. Drop it. "Really. You do. How do you know what it says?"
And then Zach, in all his geeky glory, clarifying every reason he has no friends, blurts out, "Jason told me." Wow. Good one, Zach. "It says M's a rug muncher!" Quite proud of himself, before I can stop it coming out of his mouth. The class erupts in simultaneous laughter (the boys) and gasps of disbelief (the girls) while I stand there trying to maintain my composure. I grab it (my composure) with both hands and hang on for dear life, bringing the class back to focus.
"Jason, give me your phone. You and Cody, go sit in the hall."
Class ends shortly thereafter and I call the two back into the room. I was f***ig livid; absolutely blew a gasket on both of them, saying something like "Jason, you're not the person I thought you were." (ouch). "I'm going to have to give your phones to Mr. U and he'll take it from here. For now, both of you, get out of my room."
As soon as the halls had cleared, my good friend SA walks into my room and I start in with the whole story, showing him the text. We're both laughing hysterically but I'm still really pissed. Other teachers stop in and before long, everyone in my pod has heard the story. So I get my stuff together and as I'm heading out the door, my friend BB joins up with me in the hall to walk down to the office with me. She's half-laughing, half trying to be sympathetic, and I finally say,
"Oh, I don't know. God, they're just kids. Did I overreact? U's gonna kick their butts."
BB says, "Overreact? How?
"I don't know. I mean, he could have said something really bad." BB stops walking and looks at me in surprise.
"Like WHAT for instance?" And then, suddenly, her look changes and she says, very slowly, "A, do you even know what rug muncher means?" And it's in that moment, half-way down the stairwell, as I see her face, that it actually registers. I really didn't know what it meant...until that second. I just knew it wasn't nice and I should be upset by it. But right then, as I made sense of the actual words, I started laughing (we both did) so hard we cried. When I finished telling the story to my VP, and handed over the phones, he says,
"Well, A, I have to say, I think you handled the situation very well under the circumstatnces. I'm proud of you." That's when I told him the part about how I didn't know what it meant and he roared. "Jason's lucky day." he says. Indeed.
So that's my teacher story of the year. Gotta go get dinner started. Love, A
It's dinner time now and I should start cooking but thought I'd share the text story with you for fun. I don't know what your school's policy on cell phones is, but at WRHS, there is constant usage and no real consequences, so teachers kind of make up their own rules (even though no one will back us in the end).
So I'm standing up in front of the class talking away, or whatever I'm doing, and I notice that Cody is reading a text message under his desk. I said,
"Hey Cody, give me your phone."
"Why?" (oh, do I need to type out the whole 2 minute argument here, before I actually got the phone? No, probably not.) He hands me the phone. Normally, I would set it on my desk, forget about it, then at the end of class, either give it back with a warning (to a nice kid) or not (to a dickhead). But on this day, for whatever reason, I was feeling a little goofy, so I opened up the phone and said,
"So who ya texting, Cody?"
"No one."
"No one. Hmm. Let's see." And, techno-tard that I am, I manage to push all the right buttons to pull up the latest inbox messages, which read "Mrs. M is a rug muncher." Wow. Ow.
I notice it's from Jason. Jason sits right behind Cody, but I know in my heart that this isn't a message from that Jason, because that Jason wouldn't ever write something like that, that Jason can barely make eye contact with a worm he's so shy. "Hmm. Jason." I look up, at Cody, at Jason. "Really? Who's Jason? Because I know it's not our Jason. He wouldn't write something like this."
"Nobody" Cody says.
And then the chorus, from the whole class, begins. "What's it say? Read it! Read it out loud! What'd he say?"
"Nobody." I say. "Well it must be somebody, because they texted you."
Cody says, squirming a little, "I don't know his last name."
"Really?" I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "You've got friends who know your number and you don't know their last names?"
Cody's getting nervous. "It's some guy I met at the skatepark."
"And he knows me?" I'm shocked. Weird.
Cody says "No."
"Oh, so this is a different Mrs. M?" And then, again, the whole class starts up,
"What's it say? Read it! Read it out loud! What'd he say?"
"No, I don't know. I don't even know the guy." Cody protests, all but shouting.
At this point, I decide not to argue with him anymore and put the phone down on my desk. At that very moment, Zach, major-dork-who-thinks-he's-major-cool, raises his hand.
"Yeah, Zach?"
"I know what it says."
I think, God you're an idiot. Shut up. Drop it. "Really. You do. How do you know what it says?"
And then Zach, in all his geeky glory, clarifying every reason he has no friends, blurts out, "Jason told me." Wow. Good one, Zach. "It says M's a rug muncher!" Quite proud of himself, before I can stop it coming out of his mouth. The class erupts in simultaneous laughter (the boys) and gasps of disbelief (the girls) while I stand there trying to maintain my composure. I grab it (my composure) with both hands and hang on for dear life, bringing the class back to focus.
"Jason, give me your phone. You and Cody, go sit in the hall."
Class ends shortly thereafter and I call the two back into the room. I was f***ig livid; absolutely blew a gasket on both of them, saying something like "Jason, you're not the person I thought you were." (ouch). "I'm going to have to give your phones to Mr. U and he'll take it from here. For now, both of you, get out of my room."
As soon as the halls had cleared, my good friend SA walks into my room and I start in with the whole story, showing him the text. We're both laughing hysterically but I'm still really pissed. Other teachers stop in and before long, everyone in my pod has heard the story. So I get my stuff together and as I'm heading out the door, my friend BB joins up with me in the hall to walk down to the office with me. She's half-laughing, half trying to be sympathetic, and I finally say,
"Oh, I don't know. God, they're just kids. Did I overreact? U's gonna kick their butts."
BB says, "Overreact? How?
"I don't know. I mean, he could have said something really bad." BB stops walking and looks at me in surprise.
"Like WHAT for instance?" And then, suddenly, her look changes and she says, very slowly, "A, do you even know what rug muncher means?" And it's in that moment, half-way down the stairwell, as I see her face, that it actually registers. I really didn't know what it meant...until that second. I just knew it wasn't nice and I should be upset by it. But right then, as I made sense of the actual words, I started laughing (we both did) so hard we cried. When I finished telling the story to my VP, and handed over the phones, he says,
"Well, A, I have to say, I think you handled the situation very well under the circumstatnces. I'm proud of you." That's when I told him the part about how I didn't know what it meant and he roared. "Jason's lucky day." he says. Indeed.
So that's my teacher story of the year. Gotta go get dinner started. Love, A
I Miss My Man
Ugh. I haven't seen W since Newport (and there was no hanky-panky then) and I really miss him. Every once in a while we go through an exceptionally long time apart, and this is one of them. Given that this is my last weekend before starting school, and I'm broke, and I miss him, it is particularly difficult. He knows that, though, and did a little something for me...yesterday he went to his local Bank of America branch and deposited some money in my account so I could have a little fun, albeit without him...So while he was at a preseason Patriots game last night, I was at a place the two of us like to go, where we know the bartender/where the bartender knows us. After that I went to the liquor store and bought a few bottles of wine (I usually am not without, as I was when C was over) to get me through to next week, when I'll get paid, and see W and feel normal again. Next weekend I'm headed to Boston for my last summer hurrah...and am counting the days. I swear, I'll be handing out class contracts on Thursday thinking two days till I get laid. Amen, sister.
Thanks for the post. Sounds like a great day so far. I'm happy that you're happy. B
Thanks for the post. Sounds like a great day so far. I'm happy that you're happy. B
Exercise, Caprese and Getting Along with J. What More Could I Ask for?
Good afternoon, Barb,
I must begin with thank you. Thank you for the late afternoon snack I just made myself: caprese salad and a baguette (ok, part of one anyway). It isn't quite time for dinner but I skipped lunch so I was starving. I ran into the store to grab some veggies for tonight and as I was walking by the tomatoes, I thought - hey! No one else will eat this, but I'm going to love it! I'm glad you're a food snob (so is K) because I can live vicariously through you and learn, too. I can always figure out a variation on a theme when it comes to feeding my family, so I love getting ideas from you. I don't think there's anything wrong with loving good food, and being picky about it. I mean, if you're gonna eat, for Pete's sake, why not enjoy it? It's how I feel about wine...now if only I could get to know my wines well enough to be a snob. Like I said, I'm still stocking 2-buck Chuck.
Today was actually quite nice, although I didn't do any gardening at all. I opted for a long walk (with the baby hill) outside, since it was so beautiful, instead of going to the gym. I was glad I did, although it was bloody hot even at 10:00. We have three hills in our neighborhood that are worth walking; I chickened out on the long one and the killer one. The baby one got my heart rate up for a few minutes anyway, and I even felt it in my rear a little. The fact that I got out of bed for the second day in a row and exercised alone, period, is worth celebrating. K will be home Tuesday and my goal is to go every day that she is gone; my-workout-buddy-is-out-of-town is not a valid excuse not to go.
So the day started out well. I finished up my camping reservations from last night and felt a bit of relief there - I usually wait too long and get less than desirable spots, so I was happy to get perfect spots for next year, which will make everyone happy. J helped me with this, which was kind of a nice connection, so when he wanted to go down and pick up the trailer, I agreed to keep him company. Good choice -we've gotten along well today. When we got back from there, I helped M with a job application and I ran a couple of errands; it's already 5:00. So much for gardening...didn't really want to do it anyway. He's out there washing the trailer and dinking around (totally in his element) and my boys are...? M's girlfriend broke up with him this week, which I suspected but only just confirmed by reading his MySpace. I even asked him outright if they were still together and he said they were - don't know why he wouldn't want me to know, but whatever. So I've been being really nice to him and he has no idea why. Haha!
I just realized I have to go out again and I'm bummed to cut this short because I'm so not done. I'll try to get back to it later but just in case I don't, I'll post for now instead of saving as a draft. Love you, A
I must begin with thank you. Thank you for the late afternoon snack I just made myself: caprese salad and a baguette (ok, part of one anyway). It isn't quite time for dinner but I skipped lunch so I was starving. I ran into the store to grab some veggies for tonight and as I was walking by the tomatoes, I thought - hey! No one else will eat this, but I'm going to love it! I'm glad you're a food snob (so is K) because I can live vicariously through you and learn, too. I can always figure out a variation on a theme when it comes to feeding my family, so I love getting ideas from you. I don't think there's anything wrong with loving good food, and being picky about it. I mean, if you're gonna eat, for Pete's sake, why not enjoy it? It's how I feel about wine...now if only I could get to know my wines well enough to be a snob. Like I said, I'm still stocking 2-buck Chuck.
Today was actually quite nice, although I didn't do any gardening at all. I opted for a long walk (with the baby hill) outside, since it was so beautiful, instead of going to the gym. I was glad I did, although it was bloody hot even at 10:00. We have three hills in our neighborhood that are worth walking; I chickened out on the long one and the killer one. The baby one got my heart rate up for a few minutes anyway, and I even felt it in my rear a little. The fact that I got out of bed for the second day in a row and exercised alone, period, is worth celebrating. K will be home Tuesday and my goal is to go every day that she is gone; my-workout-buddy-is-out-of-town is not a valid excuse not to go.
So the day started out well. I finished up my camping reservations from last night and felt a bit of relief there - I usually wait too long and get less than desirable spots, so I was happy to get perfect spots for next year, which will make everyone happy. J helped me with this, which was kind of a nice connection, so when he wanted to go down and pick up the trailer, I agreed to keep him company. Good choice -we've gotten along well today. When we got back from there, I helped M with a job application and I ran a couple of errands; it's already 5:00. So much for gardening...didn't really want to do it anyway. He's out there washing the trailer and dinking around (totally in his element) and my boys are...? M's girlfriend broke up with him this week, which I suspected but only just confirmed by reading his MySpace. I even asked him outright if they were still together and he said they were - don't know why he wouldn't want me to know, but whatever. So I've been being really nice to him and he has no idea why. Haha!
I just realized I have to go out again and I'm bummed to cut this short because I'm so not done. I'll try to get back to it later but just in case I don't, I'll post for now instead of saving as a draft. Love you, A
Food...and Fear
Hey, A,
Okay, in my first paragraph wherein I explained my food supply and choices I almost added, Another thing to consider is that I only have my own palate to consider. I don't need to worry about kid friendly foods. You said it for me. :)
Before I move on to other topics I will say, in a moment of truth kind of way, that I am a bit of a food snob and, frankly, not a fan of dips. I find them....pedestrian (what you would call prosaic; but I'm talking about the food, not you). I'll eat them if they are presented to me, but I try not to serve them, unless it's hummus with pita or pita chips and served alongside some Kalamata olives and done as part of a Mediterranean food theme. I know, now I just sound like a b*tch. On to FEAR...
Despite the gorgeous (day 4 of our San Diego stretch) weather, and the fact that it is Saturday, the pool was quite quiet. I didn't get out there until 2:30 today (I had a full blown visual migraine when I was writing this morning that I still needed to recover from after painful shopping with my mother to help her buy a shower gift from a registry), but I'm glad I took advantage of the day. I actually love late afternoons at the beach or by the pool, and I was just getting into a new book that C brought over (The Ten Year Nap, about a woman who has given up a career as a lawyer to be a stay at home mom, written my Meg Wolitzer, daughter of my new fave Hilma) so around 4:30--rather than call it a day-- I came in to refresh my water bottle and to get a happy hour tumbler of wine to take back out.
I had just settled back in to my chair, only one other person around, similarly sitting and reading, when 2 young guys--20-something-- come in with ginormous plastic mugs. They sit on the bench under the gazebo and proceed to make me fear for the future of America. You know I am no stranger to the F bomb, but come on, now, these guys were out of control. Clearly drunk, burping, farting ("dropping ass," they called it, as one was congratulating the other), quoting movies, as if they were at a frat party. At one point, as I heard them lighting up cigarettes, after one wished aloud that the friends who were on their way had marijuana (he didn't bother to give it a code name), the other said, "I like a girl who smokes. I figure if she's willing to get cancer, she's willing to get VD." Um, I don't remember going to a frat party; I thought I was at my pool. It took nearly every breath in my body not to turn around and lambaste them. Instead, I packed up and came inside, breathing through the moment I wanted to say, "I don't have kids because I'd live in constant fear that they'd end up like you."
These are kids who passed through our high school corridors and were accepted to college somewhere--and graduated. Now they're making enough money to live in this complex in a Connecticut suburb. And I'm afraid. The selfishness, self-centeredness that these frat boys exhibited makes me shake my head, because even if there had been little kids at the pool, I'm sure they'd have behaved the same way. Why would/should they show any more respect for kids than they would a woman sitting within earshot? It's all about them. No deference, no decorum, no modicum of respect for elders, no self-censoring. It's disgusting.
So needless to say, I am jealous that you aren't going back to those corridors--while I am due there Monday morning. (You did not share the text message story; please do!) And I agree with you about chaperoning. No thank you. I'd rather pay my own way and not have to be responsible for a busload of kids in Europe. It wouldn't feel like vacation at all, just another day at High School Hell.
Hope you enjoyed gardening today and treated yourself to a little something more than iced tea when it was time for shade. I'm around tomorrow but my cousin D is coming over for sun therapy. If you're around, I'd love to chat-maybe in the evening after she leaves. (I'll report on the menu then.) Tomorrow is probably the last night I'll be up till 11 my time, 8 yours, for a while. (Can you hear me crying?...)
Love, Barb
Okay, in my first paragraph wherein I explained my food supply and choices I almost added, Another thing to consider is that I only have my own palate to consider. I don't need to worry about kid friendly foods. You said it for me. :)
Before I move on to other topics I will say, in a moment of truth kind of way, that I am a bit of a food snob and, frankly, not a fan of dips. I find them....pedestrian (what you would call prosaic; but I'm talking about the food, not you). I'll eat them if they are presented to me, but I try not to serve them, unless it's hummus with pita or pita chips and served alongside some Kalamata olives and done as part of a Mediterranean food theme. I know, now I just sound like a b*tch. On to FEAR...
Despite the gorgeous (day 4 of our San Diego stretch) weather, and the fact that it is Saturday, the pool was quite quiet. I didn't get out there until 2:30 today (I had a full blown visual migraine when I was writing this morning that I still needed to recover from after painful shopping with my mother to help her buy a shower gift from a registry), but I'm glad I took advantage of the day. I actually love late afternoons at the beach or by the pool, and I was just getting into a new book that C brought over (The Ten Year Nap, about a woman who has given up a career as a lawyer to be a stay at home mom, written my Meg Wolitzer, daughter of my new fave Hilma) so around 4:30--rather than call it a day-- I came in to refresh my water bottle and to get a happy hour tumbler of wine to take back out.
I had just settled back in to my chair, only one other person around, similarly sitting and reading, when 2 young guys--20-something-- come in with ginormous plastic mugs. They sit on the bench under the gazebo and proceed to make me fear for the future of America. You know I am no stranger to the F bomb, but come on, now, these guys were out of control. Clearly drunk, burping, farting ("dropping ass," they called it, as one was congratulating the other), quoting movies, as if they were at a frat party. At one point, as I heard them lighting up cigarettes, after one wished aloud that the friends who were on their way had marijuana (he didn't bother to give it a code name), the other said, "I like a girl who smokes. I figure if she's willing to get cancer, she's willing to get VD." Um, I don't remember going to a frat party; I thought I was at my pool. It took nearly every breath in my body not to turn around and lambaste them. Instead, I packed up and came inside, breathing through the moment I wanted to say, "I don't have kids because I'd live in constant fear that they'd end up like you."
These are kids who passed through our high school corridors and were accepted to college somewhere--and graduated. Now they're making enough money to live in this complex in a Connecticut suburb. And I'm afraid. The selfishness, self-centeredness that these frat boys exhibited makes me shake my head, because even if there had been little kids at the pool, I'm sure they'd have behaved the same way. Why would/should they show any more respect for kids than they would a woman sitting within earshot? It's all about them. No deference, no decorum, no modicum of respect for elders, no self-censoring. It's disgusting.
So needless to say, I am jealous that you aren't going back to those corridors--while I am due there Monday morning. (You did not share the text message story; please do!) And I agree with you about chaperoning. No thank you. I'd rather pay my own way and not have to be responsible for a busload of kids in Europe. It wouldn't feel like vacation at all, just another day at High School Hell.
Hope you enjoyed gardening today and treated yourself to a little something more than iced tea when it was time for shade. I'm around tomorrow but my cousin D is coming over for sun therapy. If you're around, I'd love to chat-maybe in the evening after she leaves. (I'll report on the menu then.) Tomorrow is probably the last night I'll be up till 11 my time, 8 yours, for a while. (Can you hear me crying?...)
Love, Barb
Summer Saturday...at long last
You know, if it were only me in the house, I would probably have all of those things in my fridge too. I tend to stock up with things that the majority of people will eat (this excludes JJ, since he doesn't like anything) and my boys are generally happy with the generic meat-n-potatoes type of foods. I've done my best to find the healthiest forms of those, causing M to coin his favorite phrase, "There's nothing normal to eat in this house." Fortunately, K and S are both adventurous and health-oriented, so we at least have our little girl-circle of good food.
I remember when you met C in Italy years ago, I guess I didn't know she went often and had it funded. That doesn't suck. I almost signed up for one of those trips to Europe a couple of years ago at school, where my entire trip would be paid for if I chaperoned 30 high school students through London for a week. In the end, the free trip didn't tip the scale for me. I wanted it to - I kept thinking it would be fun!, but then I'd go into class and there would be a crude drawing of genitalia on my whiteboard, or some student would comment on my sexual orientation and the whole trip-to-Europe idea would die. Quickly. (Did I ever tell you that story about the text message? It's the best.)
I have to say, reminiscing there for a moment on my "career" as a teacher, I am so glad I don't have to go back. It doesn't really occur to me except in flashes that I'm not getting ready for school yet - I just keep thinking it's still summer. In fact, last night I was booking a camping trip in May (because here in the PNW camping spots really do fill up a year in advance) and the Friday before Memorial Day weekend is always a snow-make-up day for us. In the past, I always had to be careful about that, since we usually leave for our trip on Thursday and sometimes we'd all have to cancel that day at the last minute because no one could get out of work. But this year...ha! Off I go! Stupid revelation moment, but it was nice. I signed up to help with the PTA (maybe the newsletter, now they're not sure) and Friday Treats, which is just selling popcorn and junk at lunch at Friday recess. JJ's very excited about this; I don't know if he thinks he's going to get free treats or if he's just still young enough to think it's cool if his mom works the booth, but either way, I'll take it. It's a few hours each Friday, not a huge time commitment, and it's pretty fun. Also, I think I'm going to try to take one of those writing classes at Pierce - I haven't decided which one yet. There are a couple of other classes in there that really sparked my interest too - one is in tour guiding. That's me! Julie the Cruise Director! It's sort of in the realm of party planning, which I would love to do if I could figure out how to get started on my own. Anyway, I'm going to check into it more once school starts; I don't think I'll take anything until after Christmas. So, as I was saying about not having to go back to school, it's nice to get to focus on stuff that I actually enjoy, that's all.
I thought I'd just say hello this morning before I head out to do some gardening on this lovely 80 degree day...finally. I'll be out there for less than an hour, I bet you, before I'm sweating bullets and whining about how f***ing hot it is. Which will mean that I have to stop working and find a lawn chair and some iced tea to recuperate. I can't stay out of the sun any longer....I even went tanning yesterday and took my chances. So far, no rash. But we're going away next weekend and I look like Casper, and that's not ok. I simply cannot get into a bathing suit when my skin would light up the night.
Hope your Saturday's going well so far...
Love, A
P.S. I watched the movie Gone Baby Gone last night. It was very good, but OMG if that wasn't the saddest ending to a movie ever. I couldn't even cry, it was that awful. I just sat there with what I imagine was a slightly nauseous, heartbroken look on my face ,while the credits rolled. The book was by the author of Mystic River, which, if you've seen that, is almost equally depressing. But worth the rental fee, definitely (both of them). Also I loved it because it took place in Dorchester and I got to listen to really authentic "Daht" accents for two hours. Ah, I miss Boston!!!!
I remember when you met C in Italy years ago, I guess I didn't know she went often and had it funded. That doesn't suck. I almost signed up for one of those trips to Europe a couple of years ago at school, where my entire trip would be paid for if I chaperoned 30 high school students through London for a week. In the end, the free trip didn't tip the scale for me. I wanted it to - I kept thinking it would be fun!, but then I'd go into class and there would be a crude drawing of genitalia on my whiteboard, or some student would comment on my sexual orientation and the whole trip-to-Europe idea would die. Quickly. (Did I ever tell you that story about the text message? It's the best.)
I have to say, reminiscing there for a moment on my "career" as a teacher, I am so glad I don't have to go back. It doesn't really occur to me except in flashes that I'm not getting ready for school yet - I just keep thinking it's still summer. In fact, last night I was booking a camping trip in May (because here in the PNW camping spots really do fill up a year in advance) and the Friday before Memorial Day weekend is always a snow-make-up day for us. In the past, I always had to be careful about that, since we usually leave for our trip on Thursday and sometimes we'd all have to cancel that day at the last minute because no one could get out of work. But this year...ha! Off I go! Stupid revelation moment, but it was nice. I signed up to help with the PTA (maybe the newsletter, now they're not sure) and Friday Treats, which is just selling popcorn and junk at lunch at Friday recess. JJ's very excited about this; I don't know if he thinks he's going to get free treats or if he's just still young enough to think it's cool if his mom works the booth, but either way, I'll take it. It's a few hours each Friday, not a huge time commitment, and it's pretty fun. Also, I think I'm going to try to take one of those writing classes at Pierce - I haven't decided which one yet. There are a couple of other classes in there that really sparked my interest too - one is in tour guiding. That's me! Julie the Cruise Director! It's sort of in the realm of party planning, which I would love to do if I could figure out how to get started on my own. Anyway, I'm going to check into it more once school starts; I don't think I'll take anything until after Christmas. So, as I was saying about not having to go back to school, it's nice to get to focus on stuff that I actually enjoy, that's all.
I thought I'd just say hello this morning before I head out to do some gardening on this lovely 80 degree day...finally. I'll be out there for less than an hour, I bet you, before I'm sweating bullets and whining about how f***ing hot it is. Which will mean that I have to stop working and find a lawn chair and some iced tea to recuperate. I can't stay out of the sun any longer....I even went tanning yesterday and took my chances. So far, no rash. But we're going away next weekend and I look like Casper, and that's not ok. I simply cannot get into a bathing suit when my skin would light up the night.
Hope your Saturday's going well so far...
Love, A
P.S. I watched the movie Gone Baby Gone last night. It was very good, but OMG if that wasn't the saddest ending to a movie ever. I couldn't even cry, it was that awful. I just sat there with what I imagine was a slightly nauseous, heartbroken look on my face ,while the credits rolled. The book was by the author of Mystic River, which, if you've seen that, is almost equally depressing. But worth the rental fee, definitely (both of them). Also I loved it because it took place in Dorchester and I got to listen to really authentic "Daht" accents for two hours. Ah, I miss Boston!!!!
Polish Italian
Dear Amanda,
A) If you were prosaic, you would have used the word dull, and 2) any good Polish girl will have a kielbasa in the freezer, and a mother who grows tomatoes and cukes and basil and zucchini and green beans, so my staples are more practical than exotic. Couple that with the fact that I was either Italian in a past life or will be in my next, I also always keep a pound of fresh mozzarella on hand while tomatoes are in season. The cuke salad? Sliced cucumbers, salt and sour cream. I grew up on it. In Polish it's called mizeria (accent on the second syllable).
C has been to Italy multiple times. She loves Rome. In fact, when I went to Europe in 2004, C was in Rome on a Fulbright and we met up there. She showed me the sites, then after I went to Florence for a week, we met again in Rome and spent a couple of days at a spa before I headed back to England. Because she teaches Latin, she often gets to go for free...this year her trip was paid for by 3 different scholarships and included a digital camera and lap top. The class was about taking photos and using technology to bring ancient Rome into the classroom. I wish.
I'll write more later. B
A) If you were prosaic, you would have used the word dull, and 2) any good Polish girl will have a kielbasa in the freezer, and a mother who grows tomatoes and cukes and basil and zucchini and green beans, so my staples are more practical than exotic. Couple that with the fact that I was either Italian in a past life or will be in my next, I also always keep a pound of fresh mozzarella on hand while tomatoes are in season. The cuke salad? Sliced cucumbers, salt and sour cream. I grew up on it. In Polish it's called mizeria (accent on the second syllable).
C has been to Italy multiple times. She loves Rome. In fact, when I went to Europe in 2004, C was in Rome on a Fulbright and we met up there. She showed me the sites, then after I went to Florence for a week, we met again in Rome and spent a couple of days at a spa before I headed back to England. Because she teaches Latin, she often gets to go for free...this year her trip was paid for by 3 different scholarships and included a digital camera and lap top. The class was about taking photos and using technology to bring ancient Rome into the classroom. I wish.
I'll write more later. B
Friday, August 22, 2008
Warning: meds not working today
Sounds like a great day with C yesterday. Did she love Italy? I still haven't been. Hmmm..something to think about. I have to tell you how much I love that you "put together some late lunch/snacks to chat with (caprese salad, cucumber salad, kielbasa, a baguette)" as if all those ingredients would be available in any kitchen at any given moment. I feel so...prosaic. It would be a box of Wheat Thins and the spinach artichoke dip from Costco (I might even heat it up) at my house. On the other hand, you ran out of wine. Like that would ever happen chez Amanda. Even if I were down to my last bottle of 2-buck Chuck, I'd have wine. Do you think that's a problem?
I took the quiz on the AA website again yesterday. They suggest that four or more "yes" answers could indicate a problem with drinking. I'm still at two. And I didn't drink yesterday, which didn't cause me heartache, even after a blow-up with M, late in the afternoon, when pouring a drink wouldn't even have been suspect. Although, it's one of the first things that crossed my mind: I need a drink. But I didn't, (need one, or have one) so I felt pretty good about that. I'm still trying to figure out if I should go to a meeting...sometimes I think "Why not? What harm will it do? So it's not for you, don't go back." But then there's that extremist in me who thinks "If I go, that means I'm an alcoholic and there's no turning back." I'd love to get out of my own head.
I'm writing this afternoon because I have a few short minutes to myself; the boys are both gone and J's not due home for at least another half hour or so. Which I'm dreading; how awful is that? I'm sitting here wishing he would get called out or something so that he wouldn't come home and I wouldn't have to spend time with him. I saw him earlier today when he came home for lunch, and that was about all the conversation I could muster up. What on earth am I going to do all weekend? Not to mention, we're supposed to go up to Seattle on Sunday afternoon to browse the market, go out to dinner and catch the Melissa Etheridge concert later in the evening. You know me, I've been looking forward to that show all summer, since I got the tickets for my birthday, but now, floating around in this horrible disconnect, I'd just rather stay home and not talk to each other. And let's not even talk about s-e-x...how can men be intimate when everyting mentally and emotionally is all f**ed up? I don't get it. I have about as much desire to have sex as I do to skydive right now. (Yes, part of that is meds; I can't seem to find anything that doesn't interfere with my libido, but mostly, it's just me. I am completely disinterested.) And I know since it's been awhile....argh. I want to feel bad about it, but I just can't. I feel like I'm living with a stranger.
And other than that uplifting bit, nothing new going on around here today. Funny, but the sun is out and it's warm and breezy. Why would this be the day I most want to stay inside? I'll stop now before I dump it all on you...hope you have something fun planned tonight or this weekend,
Love
A
I took the quiz on the AA website again yesterday. They suggest that four or more "yes" answers could indicate a problem with drinking. I'm still at two. And I didn't drink yesterday, which didn't cause me heartache, even after a blow-up with M, late in the afternoon, when pouring a drink wouldn't even have been suspect. Although, it's one of the first things that crossed my mind: I need a drink. But I didn't, (need one, or have one) so I felt pretty good about that. I'm still trying to figure out if I should go to a meeting...sometimes I think "Why not? What harm will it do? So it's not for you, don't go back." But then there's that extremist in me who thinks "If I go, that means I'm an alcoholic and there's no turning back." I'd love to get out of my own head.
I'm writing this afternoon because I have a few short minutes to myself; the boys are both gone and J's not due home for at least another half hour or so. Which I'm dreading; how awful is that? I'm sitting here wishing he would get called out or something so that he wouldn't come home and I wouldn't have to spend time with him. I saw him earlier today when he came home for lunch, and that was about all the conversation I could muster up. What on earth am I going to do all weekend? Not to mention, we're supposed to go up to Seattle on Sunday afternoon to browse the market, go out to dinner and catch the Melissa Etheridge concert later in the evening. You know me, I've been looking forward to that show all summer, since I got the tickets for my birthday, but now, floating around in this horrible disconnect, I'd just rather stay home and not talk to each other. And let's not even talk about s-e-x...how can men be intimate when everyting mentally and emotionally is all f**ed up? I don't get it. I have about as much desire to have sex as I do to skydive right now. (Yes, part of that is meds; I can't seem to find anything that doesn't interfere with my libido, but mostly, it's just me. I am completely disinterested.) And I know since it's been awhile....argh. I want to feel bad about it, but I just can't. I feel like I'm living with a stranger.
And other than that uplifting bit, nothing new going on around here today. Funny, but the sun is out and it's warm and breezy. Why would this be the day I most want to stay inside? I'll stop now before I dump it all on you...hope you have something fun planned tonight or this weekend,
Love
A
PS: on cleaning
I love it when my place is fit-for-a-guest clean! But why does it always take a guest for me to do the little extras?...
Yesterday
Looks like we both needed a day off from writing...
My friend C came over around noon and we had a great time catching up. She's not much of a sit by the pool gal (I swear it's an art; some people have the calling, some don't), so after a cocktail by the pool we came in and I put together some late lunch/snacks to chat with (caprese salad, cucumber salad, kielbasa, a baguette), while we sipped a bottle of wine she brought me back from Italy. Then around 6 or so we moved on to one of our favorite restaurants (C's treat) for a little more wine (I had NONE in the house; how sad), and that was fun too, since C hadn't been all summer. I got home around 9:30, and crashed half way through the limoncello I poured.
I'm about to head out to the pool for a few hours, but wanted to click a quick hello before doing so. We are in an amazing stretch of weather here--no humidity, 80 degrees. Pretty much feels like San Diego.
Hope all is well and hope to read from you later.
Love, Barb
My friend C came over around noon and we had a great time catching up. She's not much of a sit by the pool gal (I swear it's an art; some people have the calling, some don't), so after a cocktail by the pool we came in and I put together some late lunch/snacks to chat with (caprese salad, cucumber salad, kielbasa, a baguette), while we sipped a bottle of wine she brought me back from Italy. Then around 6 or so we moved on to one of our favorite restaurants (C's treat) for a little more wine (I had NONE in the house; how sad), and that was fun too, since C hadn't been all summer. I got home around 9:30, and crashed half way through the limoncello I poured.
I'm about to head out to the pool for a few hours, but wanted to click a quick hello before doing so. We are in an amazing stretch of weather here--no humidity, 80 degrees. Pretty much feels like San Diego.
Hope all is well and hope to read from you later.
Love, Barb
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
We Suffer the Same Illness
By the way, Amanda, I intended to write tonight more thoughtfully about vocabulary and intelligence and education, but ended up going off on another topic. I'll put that on my morning coffee list. I'll also say a little more about adult education (my catalog came today, too!), which I think sounds like a great idea. Brilliant, in fact.
XO,
B
XO,
B
It really is my lucky day!
3 posts from you today!...
I by no means was saying anything other than what applied last night. You felt at a loss for what to write and I thought, I'll make a suggestion. Even if today's not a day you need to unload or process, there's always something to write about. And since we were on this We love books jag, I figured I'd get a little more out of you there.
Vent all you want. It's a founding and fundamental objective of our journalling and, I dare say, our friendship... a place to dump, a person with whom to share everything and anything, without fear of judgement. So I won't respond, or answer the questions you were throwing out into cyberspace (as you instructed), but I will say this:
Even couples who have what I perceive as loving and functional marriages--like you and J--have issues that lead me to respond in my head to some perceived, some articulated, querie into why I haven't moved things forward with W with, Why, pray tell, should I want to get married? Oh my god, it's so much work! Even my long distance relationship is work, but marriage? I'm way too lazy and insecure to tackle the day to day issues and disappointments and mysteries of marriage.
~~~~~~
The book today was Ask Me Later, by Jill A. Davis. A few years ago I read her first novel, Girls' Poker Night (recommended by Ellie), and really liked it. I passed it on to L, who passed it on to her sister-in-law. Well, this one came to me in reverse order. She is great. You'd definitely want to be her friend too. It was a really quick read, and because I read 50 of the 250 pages last night, it didn't require a full day at the pool by any stretch. Since I'm having a friend over tomorrow, I was glad to have the time to continue tackling the clutter (most of which is junk mail and catalogs and receipts and old to-do lists) that seems to multiply like lo mein while eating it. With every pile that goes in recycling or my shredder or the garbage, another appears. And of course, since I have albeit self-diagnosed ADD, tasks take much longer than they should. As I shred a bank statement, I wonder how much I have accumulated in my retirement fund and decide to go looking for my annual statement. As I tuck away some photos to put in an album another day, I decide I want to look at the album from the year S was born. Random. Ultimately--here's a little more science coming at you--gas expands to fit its container. If I had only 30 minutes to clean and prepare for guests (because I really don't live like a pig), I could get it done. But when I have 2 days to get it done, I'll use that whole space of time. C will come over tomorrow and we'll have a good time, regardless.
Enough. Red wine calls.
Love, Barb
I by no means was saying anything other than what applied last night. You felt at a loss for what to write and I thought, I'll make a suggestion. Even if today's not a day you need to unload or process, there's always something to write about. And since we were on this We love books jag, I figured I'd get a little more out of you there.
Vent all you want. It's a founding and fundamental objective of our journalling and, I dare say, our friendship... a place to dump, a person with whom to share everything and anything, without fear of judgement. So I won't respond, or answer the questions you were throwing out into cyberspace (as you instructed), but I will say this:
Even couples who have what I perceive as loving and functional marriages--like you and J--have issues that lead me to respond in my head to some perceived, some articulated, querie into why I haven't moved things forward with W with, Why, pray tell, should I want to get married? Oh my god, it's so much work! Even my long distance relationship is work, but marriage? I'm way too lazy and insecure to tackle the day to day issues and disappointments and mysteries of marriage.
~~~~~~
The book today was Ask Me Later, by Jill A. Davis. A few years ago I read her first novel, Girls' Poker Night (recommended by Ellie), and really liked it. I passed it on to L, who passed it on to her sister-in-law. Well, this one came to me in reverse order. She is great. You'd definitely want to be her friend too. It was a really quick read, and because I read 50 of the 250 pages last night, it didn't require a full day at the pool by any stretch. Since I'm having a friend over tomorrow, I was glad to have the time to continue tackling the clutter (most of which is junk mail and catalogs and receipts and old to-do lists) that seems to multiply like lo mein while eating it. With every pile that goes in recycling or my shredder or the garbage, another appears. And of course, since I have albeit self-diagnosed ADD, tasks take much longer than they should. As I shred a bank statement, I wonder how much I have accumulated in my retirement fund and decide to go looking for my annual statement. As I tuck away some photos to put in an album another day, I decide I want to look at the album from the year S was born. Random. Ultimately--here's a little more science coming at you--gas expands to fit its container. If I had only 30 minutes to clean and prepare for guests (because I really don't live like a pig), I could get it done. But when I have 2 days to get it done, I'll use that whole space of time. C will come over tomorrow and we'll have a good time, regardless.
Enough. Red wine calls.
Love, Barb
Serious ADD
Criminy, I can't even finish an entry and be done. I meant to tell you that I texted K this morning to tell her that I had officially been sucked into the PTA, and she called to tell me that the new continuing ed catalog was out and there's a creative writing class in there. I figure I can offset the Cult of PTA with something I really want to do. I might take a web design class too. Maybe I'll just get my shit together this year.
Nail Junkie
P.S. Of course I know you're still a nail junkie. I thought you did your own though, no? What I meant was maybe you would start to pay someone else for the work. And always French, me too. Except at Christmas when I get a little trashy for a month and do the red with white snowflakes thing. I told you I'm a dork.
Angst and Anger Return
Good afternoon Barb,
I'm sitting here imagining you sitting in the early evening fading sun, trying to finish the book of the day, (which is?) while I sit here, definitely inside, listening to A) the pouring down rain, B) four boys screaming in a pretend car auction in the other room (because of A). I took S's kids for the day so she could help T out at work. This normally isn't a big deal, except that they're trapped in the house and therefore driving me insane. At least M is playing along, leading this auction, and they adore him, so it's no all bad. Just loud. Very.
I'm glad you were refreshed by my entry about books and words. Can I go back to angst and anger now? I wonder if your comment was meant as a gentle reminder that I can get very gloomy and that it might be tiring to read at length. So I will try to be brief here, just to get this off my chest.
Over the weekend when J and I were fighting, one of the thing he said to me was that he didn't know what I need from him, that he didn't feel he could ever "get it right". I thought about that for a long time and then asked him "Have you ever asked me what I need from you?" He said "No, I haven't. Because I don't think you know either." This plunged me into deep thought for the better part of the day; I didn't necessarily think he was wrong but wasn't quite willing to give over completely. I don't suppose I'm 100% sure of what I need, but I think I've got a pretty good idea. I think the problem is more that what I need isn't something he wants to give or is capable of giving in some cases. Like spending more time with the kids. Being interested in their lives. Not spending the entire weekend doing yardwork. Not reading his crackberry every ten minutes. Not ignoring the kids when he comes home from work. Emotional connection. Softness. Fairness. A little less control. And all of these things apply to me too, not just the kids.
But here's my most recent conclusion, and I say this after thinking about something I wrote a couple of posts ago. I wrote that T really "gets" me and I hope I explained what I meant by that - it's not a romantic connection, it's a mental one. Since J said that about my not knowing what I want, I can't help thinking that yes, indeed, I do know what I want. I always have. But every time I ask for it, I don't get it, so maybe I change it around a little bit to make it a little more accessible to him. Does that make sense?
Since I promised to make this short, here it is. He doesn't know me. He doesn't know me even in the smallest of ways that matter. Worse than that, he isn't interested in knowing me. (Don't even read self-pity into this, it's not here. I'm stating fact.) He has absolutely no idea what is important to me, what I love, what I crave, what I dream about, or hope for or regret. And it's not because I'm closed up and don't share - it's because he truly isn't interested. In all the years we have been together, he has expressed not only no interest, but a real disinterest, in visiting England and seeing where I grew up. Never once in all this time, has he ever asked me what I want to do when we retire. We talk a lot about what he wants to do, and how we're going to do it, but he's never asked "How about you?" He doesn't ask what I want to be or do; he couldn't care less what it is I choose to do for a career, like he said, "just figure it out." He isn't my sounding board for ideas. I didn't even bring up the PTA thing with him. I have become so tired of not being heard or getting the standard response: "Whatever you want to do".
If I gave him a quiz about me, a how-well-do-you-know-your-mate quiz out of an issue of Cosmo, he wouldn't be able to pass it. What's her favorite color? What's her favorite food? Leisure activity? Movie? What does she want to do when she retires? What's her greatest fear?
He doesn't want to know. Even if I offer up the information, it falls dead in the air. Not important. Why all of a sudden is this bothering me so much? It's never been any different. Why all of a sudden is it such a disappointment that he's so utterly self-focused?
I don't need you to answer, I'm really just thinking out loud. Just wanted to vent it someplace. I promise not to start writing about this marriage like I did the other one, angst and anger and hatred and bitterness and self pity and despair and whining, whining, whining for volumes. Just talking, that's all.
Hope you enjoyed your day in the SUN. What's it like?
Love,
A
I'm sitting here imagining you sitting in the early evening fading sun, trying to finish the book of the day, (which is?) while I sit here, definitely inside, listening to A) the pouring down rain, B) four boys screaming in a pretend car auction in the other room (because of A). I took S's kids for the day so she could help T out at work. This normally isn't a big deal, except that they're trapped in the house and therefore driving me insane. At least M is playing along, leading this auction, and they adore him, so it's no all bad. Just loud. Very.
I'm glad you were refreshed by my entry about books and words. Can I go back to angst and anger now? I wonder if your comment was meant as a gentle reminder that I can get very gloomy and that it might be tiring to read at length. So I will try to be brief here, just to get this off my chest.
Over the weekend when J and I were fighting, one of the thing he said to me was that he didn't know what I need from him, that he didn't feel he could ever "get it right". I thought about that for a long time and then asked him "Have you ever asked me what I need from you?" He said "No, I haven't. Because I don't think you know either." This plunged me into deep thought for the better part of the day; I didn't necessarily think he was wrong but wasn't quite willing to give over completely. I don't suppose I'm 100% sure of what I need, but I think I've got a pretty good idea. I think the problem is more that what I need isn't something he wants to give or is capable of giving in some cases. Like spending more time with the kids. Being interested in their lives. Not spending the entire weekend doing yardwork. Not reading his crackberry every ten minutes. Not ignoring the kids when he comes home from work. Emotional connection. Softness. Fairness. A little less control. And all of these things apply to me too, not just the kids.
But here's my most recent conclusion, and I say this after thinking about something I wrote a couple of posts ago. I wrote that T really "gets" me and I hope I explained what I meant by that - it's not a romantic connection, it's a mental one. Since J said that about my not knowing what I want, I can't help thinking that yes, indeed, I do know what I want. I always have. But every time I ask for it, I don't get it, so maybe I change it around a little bit to make it a little more accessible to him. Does that make sense?
Since I promised to make this short, here it is. He doesn't know me. He doesn't know me even in the smallest of ways that matter. Worse than that, he isn't interested in knowing me. (Don't even read self-pity into this, it's not here. I'm stating fact.) He has absolutely no idea what is important to me, what I love, what I crave, what I dream about, or hope for or regret. And it's not because I'm closed up and don't share - it's because he truly isn't interested. In all the years we have been together, he has expressed not only no interest, but a real disinterest, in visiting England and seeing where I grew up. Never once in all this time, has he ever asked me what I want to do when we retire. We talk a lot about what he wants to do, and how we're going to do it, but he's never asked "How about you?" He doesn't ask what I want to be or do; he couldn't care less what it is I choose to do for a career, like he said, "just figure it out." He isn't my sounding board for ideas. I didn't even bring up the PTA thing with him. I have become so tired of not being heard or getting the standard response: "Whatever you want to do".
If I gave him a quiz about me, a how-well-do-you-know-your-mate quiz out of an issue of Cosmo, he wouldn't be able to pass it. What's her favorite color? What's her favorite food? Leisure activity? Movie? What does she want to do when she retires? What's her greatest fear?
He doesn't want to know. Even if I offer up the information, it falls dead in the air. Not important. Why all of a sudden is this bothering me so much? It's never been any different. Why all of a sudden is it such a disappointment that he's so utterly self-focused?
I don't need you to answer, I'm really just thinking out loud. Just wanted to vent it someplace. I promise not to start writing about this marriage like I did the other one, angst and anger and hatred and bitterness and self pity and despair and whining, whining, whining for volumes. Just talking, that's all.
Hope you enjoyed your day in the SUN. What's it like?
Love,
A
My Pleasure
Good morning, A.
See, there is always more to write about, always room for things other than angst and anger, play-by-plays and proud moments, memories and itineraries. But sometimes, I think we get so wrapped up in the mundane and inane we forget about what makes us tick, what makes us smile and feel good --or if we do keep those passions alive, we seem to miss that they are worth writing about too.
In the short time since I started writing, the intended content of my entry has changed. I sat down to convey anger and frustration and can now write about joy. I was going write about how frustrated I am that on this absolutely top 10 day of summer I have to take my mother to a doctor appointment (snack dab in the middle of the day) because M promised to take her then made other plans for herself and decided I could take her just as well. But while I was on the phone with W (our standard morning check-in), M called to tell me that the doctor's office called to cancel my mother's appointment. Yay! There is a God, a God who believes there is value in sun therapy and summer reading, some merit in not having to look up capacious and preternatural when I come across them, who agrees that I look better with a tan, especially when I'm using words like erudite in conversation....
Today may be the day I devote to reading an entire book by the pool (although I did start it last night). Laundry and housekeeping can wait until nightfall. I'll write again then.
Have a great day! Barb
See, there is always more to write about, always room for things other than angst and anger, play-by-plays and proud moments, memories and itineraries. But sometimes, I think we get so wrapped up in the mundane and inane we forget about what makes us tick, what makes us smile and feel good --or if we do keep those passions alive, we seem to miss that they are worth writing about too.
In the short time since I started writing, the intended content of my entry has changed. I sat down to convey anger and frustration and can now write about joy. I was going write about how frustrated I am that on this absolutely top 10 day of summer I have to take my mother to a doctor appointment (snack dab in the middle of the day) because M promised to take her then made other plans for herself and decided I could take her just as well. But while I was on the phone with W (our standard morning check-in), M called to tell me that the doctor's office called to cancel my mother's appointment. Yay! There is a God, a God who believes there is value in sun therapy and summer reading, some merit in not having to look up capacious and preternatural when I come across them, who agrees that I look better with a tan, especially when I'm using words like erudite in conversation....
Today may be the day I devote to reading an entire book by the pool (although I did start it last night). Laundry and housekeeping can wait until nightfall. I'll write again then.
Have a great day! Barb
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Oh, alright, if I must...
Ok, I loved "Call me honey." - how could I not? But my favorite moment? In response to the news of Cornelia's and Teo's love, her mother says "Baby, why the surprise? I've always been on the side of love. Didn't you know that?" Sobbing! And you're right about the vocabulary. The difference between us, I think, is that you read an awful lot more than I, so your vocabulary doesn't get as rusty as mine. Hence, you're not nearly as impressed by most of it as I am. If you remember, tenth grade vocab lists aren't exactly challenging, so it's not like I even have that avenue for learning new words. I so infrequently use intelligent vocabulary in my speech (which I hate about myself, I really do) because I think I sound stilted. To look at me in all my casualness, it would seem weird to hear eloquence flow from my mouth, I think. I think I sound more genuine when I use basic language; I think all of this but I know it's not true. I'm so afraid of sounding smart. I downplay my master's degree whenever I can; I say things like "It's an MA in Teaching, for God's sake, it's not like it's an MBA." Why do I do that? I hate when J brings up how educated I am, because truly, of all my friends -- J, K, R, T, S, -- R and I are the only ones with college degrees, let alone masters'. And he's plenty proud of his MBA; I guess I feel braggardly to mention my education when I am surrounded by high school graduates, but more than that, I truly, honestly feel that they are all, J, T, S and K smarter than I am. Every single one of them has a broader vocabulary, is far more well-read, (both in literature and in daily news) and converses much more intelligently than I do. So somehow, I guess I feel like my MA isn't really legit. If I'm so educated, why don't I sound or act like it? S kicks my ASS at the crossword, K reads two or three different papers every morning, front to back. I have to ask J who to vote for in our local elections because I am so confused by the voters' pamphlets.
I'm quite certain this is baggage I carry around that was packed by E many years ago (is that why they ask you at the airport if anyone else packed your bags? If so, ma'am, just leave that one here at the curb. You won't need it, trust me. ) I struggle so much with accepting my own gifts and talents (to the point that I'm convinced I have none, most of the time). You would think that therapy would have helped more than this. But here's an insight: you talked about taking the safe route, and I think that's what I do. I take the safe, easy route. It's difficult and painful to talk yourself up everyday; it's really easy to just say F*** it, I'm a loser. It doesn't take much effort to keep on being who [you think] you are every day, does it? That's the easy way out.
Back to words. I am so happy to be reading so much this summer, because it actually gives me confidence. If you can use words like entropy and erudite, why can't I? I took the time to look them up, after all. (Ok, I didn't look up erudite.) I'm entitled to use them. The more I read, the more confident I become; I feel like a reader, like a literary person again. This is great power, which has been lost to me for awhile. I've been so busy putting myself down that even a handful of novels can be enough to lift me up again. My reading list the past six months has been terrific - challenging yet fun; unique yet mainstream. I feel like I'm in the loop again. Power.
My favorite book on that list? Water For Elephants. Not only was the language beautiful, the story was just spiritual! (See? Don't I sound like a dork?) And hands down, the most satisfying and delightful ending to a novel I think I have ever read . I do happen to have both of her other novels on hand, Riding Lessons and Flying Changes, neither of which I've had the courage to pick up. I'm afraid they'll ruin WfE. Like A Thousand Splendid Suns took the wind right out of my The Kite Runner sails. If I had waited a year or two to move on, I would have liked it better, but I didn't. Now, if Belong to Me is a sequel, that's different. I'll take it. And I'll take Summer Reading too. Send them along, as I'm now totally broke and going to resort to the library. (I do fear the Jane Green syndrome though...reading Jemima J and putting it in my top-ten-deserted-island book bag, then reading so much JG that I couldn't even bear to see her name on the front of a book cover anymore. )
I also loved Alice Sebold's The Almost Moon (although it didn't hold a candle to The Lovely Bones, but then, what does?) I liked that the tone was different, that the characters were unrelated in every way to the ones in TLB. I read A Spot of Bother and the jury's still out on that one. While The Curious Incident.. was included in my proposal for tenth grade reading, and I think it's one of the greatest books ever, I had trouble with his second one. Different enough, but it didn't hook me like the first one. I finished The Memory Keeper's Daughter and decided that, along that theme, I liked Midwives much better. Even though I'm a huge Alice Hoffman fan, Skylight Confessions was not one of her most shining attempts. The thing about Hoffman is that she's really good at being really dark. And unless she's really, really, dark, she gets a little fluffy and that pisses me off because when I pick up AH, I expect blackness.
ADD moment - had you seen any of the movies mentioned in LWI? I hadn't. I wonder if it would have made a difference. Personally, I hate old movies. Save a few, It's A Wonderful Life, The Wizard of Oz, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and A Streetcar Named Desire, I yawn. Just wondering.
Holy cow, you said to keep writing - that took a lot of arm twisting, didn't it? You see, I could talk about books forever. That's what I thought I signed up for when I agreed to teach English. I thought I'd just stand there in the the front of the room waxing erudite about Steinbeck and Shakespeare and Salinger and all the fresh, young minds would soak them - and me - up until they - all of them - wanted nothing more than to become brilliant readers and scholars and lifelong academics, just like me. Alas, I became a babysitter of semi-literate rednecks who mostly agree that Japanese anime and Truck 'n Trader magazine should count for silent reading. Dream shattered - so what did I do? I gave up too, I suppose. I gave up trying after just a few short years at it, resigning myself to the fact (assumption?) that at least these kids were never going to get it. But I couldn't stand the smart kids!! I couldn't stand the self-entitled uppity stuck-upness that permeated every corner of my room when it was full of AP students - the majority of whom couldn't think beyond a first grade analytical level but they sure were worker bees. "But Ms. McDonald, it's done. It's on time. It's 500 words minimum and it's double spaced with no cover page. Why did I get a C?????" This, followed immediately by the call from Helicopter Mom, who will, no doubt, attend college with her precious daughter in order to defend her from further cruelties in the world. Good lord, I'll take the stupid kids any day. At least they get themselves.
Who'da thunk I'd have so much to say? My wine is empty (oh yes it is) and M is done pouting. Family Guy is on (we both find it hysterical - oh look, one thing we have in common) so I'm going to go in and watch it with him. Then my absolute favorite show on tv is on - The Cleaner, with Benjamin Bratt. Who could not be hotter if he were actually on fire. Thank you for encouraging me to scribble some more tonight...did I already say how much I love our blog? I don't care if no one ever reads it!
Have a good night (or morning if you don't catch this before bedtime)
Love,
A
I'm quite certain this is baggage I carry around that was packed by E many years ago (is that why they ask you at the airport if anyone else packed your bags? If so, ma'am, just leave that one here at the curb. You won't need it, trust me. ) I struggle so much with accepting my own gifts and talents (to the point that I'm convinced I have none, most of the time). You would think that therapy would have helped more than this. But here's an insight: you talked about taking the safe route, and I think that's what I do. I take the safe, easy route. It's difficult and painful to talk yourself up everyday; it's really easy to just say F*** it, I'm a loser. It doesn't take much effort to keep on being who [you think] you are every day, does it? That's the easy way out.
Back to words. I am so happy to be reading so much this summer, because it actually gives me confidence. If you can use words like entropy and erudite, why can't I? I took the time to look them up, after all. (Ok, I didn't look up erudite.) I'm entitled to use them. The more I read, the more confident I become; I feel like a reader, like a literary person again. This is great power, which has been lost to me for awhile. I've been so busy putting myself down that even a handful of novels can be enough to lift me up again. My reading list the past six months has been terrific - challenging yet fun; unique yet mainstream. I feel like I'm in the loop again. Power.
My favorite book on that list? Water For Elephants. Not only was the language beautiful, the story was just spiritual! (See? Don't I sound like a dork?) And hands down, the most satisfying and delightful ending to a novel I think I have ever read . I do happen to have both of her other novels on hand, Riding Lessons and Flying Changes, neither of which I've had the courage to pick up. I'm afraid they'll ruin WfE. Like A Thousand Splendid Suns took the wind right out of my The Kite Runner sails. If I had waited a year or two to move on, I would have liked it better, but I didn't. Now, if Belong to Me is a sequel, that's different. I'll take it. And I'll take Summer Reading too. Send them along, as I'm now totally broke and going to resort to the library. (I do fear the Jane Green syndrome though...reading Jemima J and putting it in my top-ten-deserted-island book bag, then reading so much JG that I couldn't even bear to see her name on the front of a book cover anymore. )
I also loved Alice Sebold's The Almost Moon (although it didn't hold a candle to The Lovely Bones, but then, what does?) I liked that the tone was different, that the characters were unrelated in every way to the ones in TLB. I read A Spot of Bother and the jury's still out on that one. While The Curious Incident.. was included in my proposal for tenth grade reading, and I think it's one of the greatest books ever, I had trouble with his second one. Different enough, but it didn't hook me like the first one. I finished The Memory Keeper's Daughter and decided that, along that theme, I liked Midwives much better. Even though I'm a huge Alice Hoffman fan, Skylight Confessions was not one of her most shining attempts. The thing about Hoffman is that she's really good at being really dark. And unless she's really, really, dark, she gets a little fluffy and that pisses me off because when I pick up AH, I expect blackness.
ADD moment - had you seen any of the movies mentioned in LWI? I hadn't. I wonder if it would have made a difference. Personally, I hate old movies. Save a few, It's A Wonderful Life, The Wizard of Oz, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and A Streetcar Named Desire, I yawn. Just wondering.
Holy cow, you said to keep writing - that took a lot of arm twisting, didn't it? You see, I could talk about books forever. That's what I thought I signed up for when I agreed to teach English. I thought I'd just stand there in the the front of the room waxing erudite about Steinbeck and Shakespeare and Salinger and all the fresh, young minds would soak them - and me - up until they - all of them - wanted nothing more than to become brilliant readers and scholars and lifelong academics, just like me. Alas, I became a babysitter of semi-literate rednecks who mostly agree that Japanese anime and Truck 'n Trader magazine should count for silent reading. Dream shattered - so what did I do? I gave up too, I suppose. I gave up trying after just a few short years at it, resigning myself to the fact (assumption?) that at least these kids were never going to get it. But I couldn't stand the smart kids!! I couldn't stand the self-entitled uppity stuck-upness that permeated every corner of my room when it was full of AP students - the majority of whom couldn't think beyond a first grade analytical level but they sure were worker bees. "But Ms. McDonald, it's done. It's on time. It's 500 words minimum and it's double spaced with no cover page. Why did I get a C?????" This, followed immediately by the call from Helicopter Mom, who will, no doubt, attend college with her precious daughter in order to defend her from further cruelties in the world. Good lord, I'll take the stupid kids any day. At least they get themselves.
Who'da thunk I'd have so much to say? My wine is empty (oh yes it is) and M is done pouting. Family Guy is on (we both find it hysterical - oh look, one thing we have in common) so I'm going to go in and watch it with him. Then my absolute favorite show on tv is on - The Cleaner, with Benjamin Bratt. Who could not be hotter if he were actually on fire. Thank you for encouraging me to scribble some more tonight...did I already say how much I love our blog? I don't care if no one ever reads it!
Have a good night (or morning if you don't catch this before bedtime)
Love,
A
Write about Books
What about the scene in Love Walked In that got me? Did it get you too? How do you feel about my MdlS commentary? Come on now, you can think of more to write! Let M sit and pout. Refill your glass and write some more...
Love you, too! B
PS What a treat to read from you twice in one day.
PPS Oh, I know, it's so wrong to resign myself to what amounts to the easier, safer way out of a career change. That is, don't change careers at all...And I don't want to reinvent myself, but I am willing to repackage myself if the right job comes along, and this job sounds like a contender. Thanks for having confidence in me, for thinking I'm better than the safe route.
PPPS Start getting manicures??? I live by your mantra, if your nails look good, you're doing okay. I'm still a nail junkie. But French. Always French.
Love you, too! B
PS What a treat to read from you twice in one day.
PPS Oh, I know, it's so wrong to resign myself to what amounts to the easier, safer way out of a career change. That is, don't change careers at all...And I don't want to reinvent myself, but I am willing to repackage myself if the right job comes along, and this job sounds like a contender. Thanks for having confidence in me, for thinking I'm better than the safe route.
PPPS Start getting manicures??? I live by your mantra, if your nails look good, you're doing okay. I'm still a nail junkie. But French. Always French.
Tuesday Evening's "Event"
Hi there,
Parenting
First of all, thanks for the idea that reading and writing might be combined with cocktail hour and termed "an event". After reading your post, I made myself a plate of cheese, salami and crackers, and poured a glass of Cabernet before returning to respond. It may help to lower my blood pressure after a brief (but nonetheless annoying) altercation with M about whether or not he can have a .22 gauge shotgun. After asking why he needs one (no good reason, of course, it's not like we live on property and have squirrels to shoot, even) I said I'd rather he not but that if he wanted to spend hisown money on it, I guess I couldn't stop him. (Of course I can - and John will, probably - but this was kind of a moot point anyway since he has no money, no way of earning any money and no real desire to get a job or do any odd jobs around the house to make a little money. The likelihood of him coming up with the cash to buy a gun is only marginally greater than to buy a car; also, he only wants to work at one place - Wendy's - because he can walk there - and won't even think of applying anywhere else on his 16th birthday. There is no plan B if he doesn't get hired there. Blue/green hair and all, he thinks he's a shoe-in; don't ask me why.) At any rate, once I said he could buy it with his own money, he then said "no, I was going to ask for one for my birthday."
Well, here's the thing. That's out of the question. I explained it by saying that if he were 18 years old and decided that smoking was a good idea, there would be no way I could stop him from doing it. But would I go out and buy cigarettes for him? No. And this is where almost all of our arguments begin: "That's not even the same thing, Mom. I'm not asking you to buy cigarettes." Dude! Let's try to be a little more abstract. Try to see the big picture here. But he can't/won't. He wants to argue the absolute literal point and anything that veers from that point, even as an example or clarification, is not allowed. You know how I think and talk - I don't think I could be literal if I tried. His/our counselor is trying to help him with this, but I'm beginning to think he doesn't need help with it - it's a manipulation tool , I believe. And boy, he's good at it. What a teacher he had in his father...oh, did I just say that out loud? So it went, around and around, this stupid argument that finally stopped with me saying "You asked me to explain things to you. I explained this. You might not like the explanation, but it is one, nevertheless. So we're done."
Anyhoo...I didn't need to give you that whole play-by-play but that's the kind of little shit that goes on between us that makes me need drugs. OK, before you say it, I know I should have just said "no" to the gun, period. "No, we don't have weapons in this house. Period." I don't need to explain that. But I did open up the can of worms with the whole "your own money" thing, and I know that was a mistake. Regardless, if I HAD meant it, if it really were ok for him to buy one, my argument based on that would still have made perfect sense and should not have provoked an argument on his part, no? (Wow, watch me justify my every word.) We've actually been getting along fairly well the past few days, so I was disappointed that it had to come to an end.
The Perfect Job
I have to say that sounds terrific. You stress about the same things I do (as all teachers do, I know) - can I live without my summers and vacations? Can I work all the way until 5:00 or later every day?(even though we usually do, we're not always required to). And the myth that teachers aren't really qualified to do anything else once we have taught for "too long" is our greatest fear. But here's my answer to you: you wrote "...getting comfortable resigning myself to continuing to teach, less and less interested in reinventing myself." First of all, what a ringing endorsement for a career, "getting used to resigning myself" - argh!!! What the hell is that? And secondly, this type of career move, into a field with which you are completely familiar, into a job for which you are supremely qualified, is hardly "reinventing" yourself. Reinventing would be going to bartending school or learning to weave rugs or joining the circus. Don't think of this as reinvention, think of it as rejuvenation. Redirection. Regeneration, Revival. There's nothing new about the you that might enter this new profession, it's not like you ever started wearing denim jumpers with themed lapel pins, so you don't have to reinvent anything. Maybe you get a new breifcase, maybe a couple new pairs of higher heels. Maybe you start getting manicures. But if you want my opinion (oh, and I'm so sure you do) you are so far above and worth so much more than comfortable resignation. Not to mention, Christmas shopping in San Antonio...
The PTA Challenge
You're right. K's right. Why the hell not? How hard can it be, really? And I will definitely be in a position to pick up great writing material; I love the title of your book. Mine is "Johnny Can't Read And It's No Wonder, Neither Can His Parents". (And we're even blamed for that!) I will have to remember to take careful notes at PTA meetings so we've got a good starting point. In this school, those notes will likely be taken on a magnetic Flavia notepad (for sticking to the fridge), with a gel pen found at the bottom of a fanny pack. Just getting you prepared.
Just Figure It Out, I'll Work Around It
I've finally decided on what to do with my life, for now. I am going to take this entire year off from work, altogether. No subbing, no part time stuff, nothing but the PTA thing, helping out in JJ's classroom (it'll be the last year I really can), being home when M gets off the bus (therby avoiding injuries with the .22 I just set him up to buy) and taking care of all three of my boys. J said I should figure out what I want...so I did. That's really what I want. K and I talked a long time this morning about it and I think the PTA thing will give me a good idea of whether or not I want to go into something editing/writing related, if I do decided to go back to work eventually. The time off will help us figure out where we are and what we can do financially; the being home for my boys will just be good for my head. (Oh, and in March when I tell you I'm taking a long term sub job at my old school, it's because I promised my friend and colleague, Jen, I'd cover her maternity leave, if all goes as she plans. One exception.)
In Conclusion
Well, my dear, it's too bad I'm in such a writing mood with not a whole lot left to say. It's 7:15 and JJ is over at his friend B's house, has been all day and is having dinner there, M is watching TV and pouting (that damned gun) and J is at a late evening meeting. I should be able to sit here all night, but I'll spare you. (B's mom just called and asked if JJ could spend the night. Why do I have nothing left to say??!!)
Love you and thanks so much for the long post...this is the best thing that's happened in my life in a long time!
- Amanda (did you notice I signed my email "A"? Identity crisis!)
PS: Sorry to hear about A's dumper of a mood yesterday. All I could think of was how much she didn't want to go home. Not that she should be a brat about it, but still. How awful. What's going on with M and V lately? Any new news?
Parenting
First of all, thanks for the idea that reading and writing might be combined with cocktail hour and termed "an event". After reading your post, I made myself a plate of cheese, salami and crackers, and poured a glass of Cabernet before returning to respond. It may help to lower my blood pressure after a brief (but nonetheless annoying) altercation with M about whether or not he can have a .22 gauge shotgun. After asking why he needs one (no good reason, of course, it's not like we live on property and have squirrels to shoot, even) I said I'd rather he not but that if he wanted to spend hisown money on it, I guess I couldn't stop him. (Of course I can - and John will, probably - but this was kind of a moot point anyway since he has no money, no way of earning any money and no real desire to get a job or do any odd jobs around the house to make a little money. The likelihood of him coming up with the cash to buy a gun is only marginally greater than to buy a car; also, he only wants to work at one place - Wendy's - because he can walk there - and won't even think of applying anywhere else on his 16th birthday. There is no plan B if he doesn't get hired there. Blue/green hair and all, he thinks he's a shoe-in; don't ask me why.) At any rate, once I said he could buy it with his own money, he then said "no, I was going to ask for one for my birthday."
Well, here's the thing. That's out of the question. I explained it by saying that if he were 18 years old and decided that smoking was a good idea, there would be no way I could stop him from doing it. But would I go out and buy cigarettes for him? No. And this is where almost all of our arguments begin: "That's not even the same thing, Mom. I'm not asking you to buy cigarettes." Dude! Let's try to be a little more abstract. Try to see the big picture here. But he can't/won't. He wants to argue the absolute literal point and anything that veers from that point, even as an example or clarification, is not allowed. You know how I think and talk - I don't think I could be literal if I tried. His/our counselor is trying to help him with this, but I'm beginning to think he doesn't need help with it - it's a manipulation tool , I believe. And boy, he's good at it. What a teacher he had in his father...oh, did I just say that out loud? So it went, around and around, this stupid argument that finally stopped with me saying "You asked me to explain things to you. I explained this. You might not like the explanation, but it is one, nevertheless. So we're done."
Anyhoo...I didn't need to give you that whole play-by-play but that's the kind of little shit that goes on between us that makes me need drugs. OK, before you say it, I know I should have just said "no" to the gun, period. "No, we don't have weapons in this house. Period." I don't need to explain that. But I did open up the can of worms with the whole "your own money" thing, and I know that was a mistake. Regardless, if I HAD meant it, if it really were ok for him to buy one, my argument based on that would still have made perfect sense and should not have provoked an argument on his part, no? (Wow, watch me justify my every word.) We've actually been getting along fairly well the past few days, so I was disappointed that it had to come to an end.
The Perfect Job
I have to say that sounds terrific. You stress about the same things I do (as all teachers do, I know) - can I live without my summers and vacations? Can I work all the way until 5:00 or later every day?(even though we usually do, we're not always required to). And the myth that teachers aren't really qualified to do anything else once we have taught for "too long" is our greatest fear. But here's my answer to you: you wrote "...getting comfortable resigning myself to continuing to teach, less and less interested in reinventing myself." First of all, what a ringing endorsement for a career, "getting used to resigning myself" - argh!!! What the hell is that? And secondly, this type of career move, into a field with which you are completely familiar, into a job for which you are supremely qualified, is hardly "reinventing" yourself. Reinventing would be going to bartending school or learning to weave rugs or joining the circus. Don't think of this as reinvention, think of it as rejuvenation. Redirection. Regeneration, Revival. There's nothing new about the you that might enter this new profession, it's not like you ever started wearing denim jumpers with themed lapel pins, so you don't have to reinvent anything. Maybe you get a new breifcase, maybe a couple new pairs of higher heels. Maybe you start getting manicures. But if you want my opinion (oh, and I'm so sure you do) you are so far above and worth so much more than comfortable resignation. Not to mention, Christmas shopping in San Antonio...
The PTA Challenge
You're right. K's right. Why the hell not? How hard can it be, really? And I will definitely be in a position to pick up great writing material; I love the title of your book. Mine is "Johnny Can't Read And It's No Wonder, Neither Can His Parents". (And we're even blamed for that!) I will have to remember to take careful notes at PTA meetings so we've got a good starting point. In this school, those notes will likely be taken on a magnetic Flavia notepad (for sticking to the fridge), with a gel pen found at the bottom of a fanny pack. Just getting you prepared.
Just Figure It Out, I'll Work Around It
I've finally decided on what to do with my life, for now. I am going to take this entire year off from work, altogether. No subbing, no part time stuff, nothing but the PTA thing, helping out in JJ's classroom (it'll be the last year I really can), being home when M gets off the bus (therby avoiding injuries with the .22 I just set him up to buy) and taking care of all three of my boys. J said I should figure out what I want...so I did. That's really what I want. K and I talked a long time this morning about it and I think the PTA thing will give me a good idea of whether or not I want to go into something editing/writing related, if I do decided to go back to work eventually. The time off will help us figure out where we are and what we can do financially; the being home for my boys will just be good for my head. (Oh, and in March when I tell you I'm taking a long term sub job at my old school, it's because I promised my friend and colleague, Jen, I'd cover her maternity leave, if all goes as she plans. One exception.)
In Conclusion
Well, my dear, it's too bad I'm in such a writing mood with not a whole lot left to say. It's 7:15 and JJ is over at his friend B's house, has been all day and is having dinner there, M is watching TV and pouting (that damned gun) and J is at a late evening meeting. I should be able to sit here all night, but I'll spare you. (B's mom just called and asked if JJ could spend the night. Why do I have nothing left to say??!!)
Love you and thanks so much for the long post...this is the best thing that's happened in my life in a long time!
- Amanda (did you notice I signed my email "A"? Identity crisis!)
PS: Sorry to hear about A's dumper of a mood yesterday. All I could think of was how much she didn't want to go home. Not that she should be a brat about it, but still. How awful. What's going on with M and V lately? Any new news?
I'm Back (Or Diarrhea of the Keyboard)
I've been back for a few hours, in fact, but like a mad women ran right out to the pool (honestly: walked in at 2, was poolside by 2:15) with the book I didn't have a minute to read on the beach yesterday with the kids or at all this morning. I only had 100+ pages to go (okay maybe 150) and I really wanted to finish it. So it was more about peace and quiet and reading than it was about sun and tanning. Although it was bright and gorgeous! And breezy enough not to require frequent dips in the water to cool off. Anyway, with about 25 pages left I had to make a decision. Do I finish it out here and then go in, or do I go in now and make those last 25 pages an event? Pour myself a nice cold glass of white wine and fix a plate with cheese and crackers and olives? (And if I end up crying don't need to do the woman on fire thing again?) I chose to make it a cocktail hour event. Yay. FANTASTIC book. You must read. It's by Hilma Wolitzer, whose recent release Summer Reading I read earlier this summer. Well, this one I just finished, Hearts, was first published in 1980 and was re-released in 2005 right before she published her second novel, The Doctor's Daughter. Clearly, there was a hiatus there, but according to an interview with Ellie, at the back of Summer Reading, HW has been a writing teacher--as Ellie put, quite famously. Anyway, I happened upon Summer Reading through some recommended summer reading list and loved it, and would have read her others had Ellie not shown her love for her work. But an Ellie endorsement always helps....
Speaking of endorsements, I am glad you loved Love Walked In. Now you must read its sequel, Belong to Me, which I have in hand (back from L's). I have been on a book budget myself and can't remember why I allowed myself this hardcover splurge, but I did, and it would make me happy to pass it along. I'd feel better about it, in fact. Let me know. That out of the way, let's talk about MdlS. Interesting your take on the vocabulary. L uses an expression she learned from former students, I believe, "s/he thinks who s/he is." It's a grammatical mess, but another way of saying "s/he thinks her/his shit doesn't stink." And that's how I felt, as did L, about her. She thinks who she is. I didn't necessarily find the vocab over the top, but I found it little pretentious, tiresome, like she went out of her way to let her readers know she's smart. I think it's more pronounced in Belong To Me (even though LWI has many references to movie classics), which begins with this whole elaborate reference to a movie and actor. Sometimes it feels as contrived as it does cumbersome. Of course I liked her writing and trusted her and the story enough to keep reading. And pick up a second title. And recommend her to you. But still I think there is a subtext when she waxes erudite that says I'm not just a privileged stay-at-home mom who got bored and decided to write the married woman version of chick lit. I have Ph.D. in literature. Anyway, the scene that got me? When Cornelia was saying goodbye to Clare and Clare said "call me honey." Oh my god, I just teared up remembering it. Loved it. Please read the sequel.
Sounds like your beach weekend was a perfect beach weekend...shopping and taffy and a good dinner out. I especially love the sweatshirt part. I always say I should go to the beach off season, which would be the only time around here for the bundling up, but never get around to it. Maybe this year I'll make it a point. Maybe this year I'll take a drive down to the shore on a Saturday in October with a book and a picnic.
L's was good. I enjoyed giving L some time off, and Sunshine and C are always a joy, but A was a little bratty and ungrateful today. I understand that she didn't want to leave, and didn't appreciate that I wanted to and didn't need to supply a good enough reason, but I was a little hurt that she didn't say thank you when I dropped her off. Just an hour before, I left S and C in a chorus of thank you, auntie; thank you, auntie--with hugs and kisses and love yous. From A I got a passive aggressive silent treatment on the ride home and no thank you, no hug. Today she was her father's daughter (V). I prefer it when she is resembles her maternal relatives...
The perfect job? Okay, maybe it's not the perfect job, but as the job ad is written, I am the perfect candidate. It's at an all-women's college up the road (45 minutes north) as a Mentoring and Outreach Coordinator with their science center-- to make science more accessible to the community (K-12 field trips to the center) and to mentor science majors and those science majors who are considering careers teaching science. Hellooooo!?!? I've got my 11 years teaching science, I was the program director in a not-for-profit community outreach related to science, worked in higher education at an all women's college, am an alum of an all women's college and proponent of single sex education, was a science textbook editor ...
Of course, I'm conflicted. Just recently I wrote that I am coming to terms, getting comfortable resigning myself to continuing to teach, less and less interested in reinventing myself....But maybe this is a repackaging I could live with. I think about how much confidence I had traveling the US to science conferences, staying over for long weekends in Portland and Seattle and San Diego, doing my Christmas shopping in San Antonio. I feel beaten up and demoralized as I've also written, in one of my first posts. You become a teacher and suddenly people think you can't do anything else, and what you do is of no import--until you become personally responsible for any rejection letters from Harvard. What?!?!??!? Every year I want to teach less but every year I have less confidence and energy to find a new career...and then on Saturday I saw this ad. Get this freaky story...
Okay, remember when we used to send ginormous letters and it was best not to read unless you had a chunk of time and a bottle of wine or pot of coffee? Well, I should have warned you before...
The forecast for Saturday was iffy. I had plans to go to a friend's for a barbecue in the afternoon, so it was a bonus that the morning was sunny. Great, I thought. I'll catch a little time by the pool first. Only the gate was locked. Maybe the pool attendant counted on the showers they were predicting and shut off his alarm, but I checked back a couple of times, and it was still locked. And I was unwilling to hop the fence as others did. So I got on the computer, and that's when saw the ad (I subscribed to the Chronicle of Higher Ed's job alert service when I was making my half-hearted attempt at changing careers earlier this year)--and had time to reply.
I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I need to really give this serious consideration if they give me serious consideration. But what if I hate it? What if I can't live without summers off? Well, I suppose it wouldn't be difficult to get another teaching job if I had this experience to report as a little sabbatical of sorts. Maybe my school system would even give me a sabbatical. Of course, if they didn't I'd just get more bitter and angry about how I live in a world that values married people with children (I haven't taken 3 maternity leaves, as someone in my department has, who hasn't been teaching as long as I have), but I'll figure it all out. Wish me luck, and we can both hope that it'll all work out the way it should....
PTA newsletter? Why not? You can always say, oops, sorry, I didn't realize it would be such a time commitment if you hate it. But you're right to think it could be a good experience, not to mention an excellent opportunity to accumulate some good writing fodder. Maybe you can accumulate enough anecdotes so we can co-write the non-fiction best-seller Why Parents Need a Clue: Placing the Blame Where it's Due subtitle: Backing off the Teacher Blame Game. So I say go for it. If it doesn't work out, you can work some pain into the plan to kill your friend. Skip over quick and painless and make it long and torturous. (haha That was a joke!-- in case anyone is reading)
So jealous your kids have 2 weeks left!!! I start Monday. Tomorrow I take my mother to the doctor--smack dab in the middle of the day, and Thursday my friend (I think I called her C) who was in Rome this summer is coming over for a pool day. Not sure about Friday or Saturday, but Sunday, my cousin D is coming over for some sun therapy and to keep me from sinking into deep depression. It could get ugly. (By the way, my friend C says the same thing about Lexapro. Helps her anxiety attacks but then feels nothing, even her libido has suffered.)
For now, I don't want to think about it. My wine glass is screaming for a refill and I should probably get out of my bathing suit and into the shower before my crotch becomes a Petri dish for yeast.
I hope you had a good day today, and that you get a chance to write tonight.
Love you, Barb
Speaking of endorsements, I am glad you loved Love Walked In. Now you must read its sequel, Belong to Me, which I have in hand (back from L's). I have been on a book budget myself and can't remember why I allowed myself this hardcover splurge, but I did, and it would make me happy to pass it along. I'd feel better about it, in fact. Let me know. That out of the way, let's talk about MdlS. Interesting your take on the vocabulary. L uses an expression she learned from former students, I believe, "s/he thinks who s/he is." It's a grammatical mess, but another way of saying "s/he thinks her/his shit doesn't stink." And that's how I felt, as did L, about her. She thinks who she is. I didn't necessarily find the vocab over the top, but I found it little pretentious, tiresome, like she went out of her way to let her readers know she's smart. I think it's more pronounced in Belong To Me (even though LWI has many references to movie classics), which begins with this whole elaborate reference to a movie and actor. Sometimes it feels as contrived as it does cumbersome. Of course I liked her writing and trusted her and the story enough to keep reading. And pick up a second title. And recommend her to you. But still I think there is a subtext when she waxes erudite that says I'm not just a privileged stay-at-home mom who got bored and decided to write the married woman version of chick lit. I have Ph.D. in literature. Anyway, the scene that got me? When Cornelia was saying goodbye to Clare and Clare said "call me honey." Oh my god, I just teared up remembering it. Loved it. Please read the sequel.
Sounds like your beach weekend was a perfect beach weekend...shopping and taffy and a good dinner out. I especially love the sweatshirt part. I always say I should go to the beach off season, which would be the only time around here for the bundling up, but never get around to it. Maybe this year I'll make it a point. Maybe this year I'll take a drive down to the shore on a Saturday in October with a book and a picnic.
L's was good. I enjoyed giving L some time off, and Sunshine and C are always a joy, but A was a little bratty and ungrateful today. I understand that she didn't want to leave, and didn't appreciate that I wanted to and didn't need to supply a good enough reason, but I was a little hurt that she didn't say thank you when I dropped her off. Just an hour before, I left S and C in a chorus of thank you, auntie; thank you, auntie--with hugs and kisses and love yous. From A I got a passive aggressive silent treatment on the ride home and no thank you, no hug. Today she was her father's daughter (V). I prefer it when she is resembles her maternal relatives...
The perfect job? Okay, maybe it's not the perfect job, but as the job ad is written, I am the perfect candidate. It's at an all-women's college up the road (45 minutes north) as a Mentoring and Outreach Coordinator with their science center-- to make science more accessible to the community (K-12 field trips to the center) and to mentor science majors and those science majors who are considering careers teaching science. Hellooooo!?!? I've got my 11 years teaching science, I was the program director in a not-for-profit community outreach related to science, worked in higher education at an all women's college, am an alum of an all women's college and proponent of single sex education, was a science textbook editor ...
Of course, I'm conflicted. Just recently I wrote that I am coming to terms, getting comfortable resigning myself to continuing to teach, less and less interested in reinventing myself....But maybe this is a repackaging I could live with. I think about how much confidence I had traveling the US to science conferences, staying over for long weekends in Portland and Seattle and San Diego, doing my Christmas shopping in San Antonio. I feel beaten up and demoralized as I've also written, in one of my first posts. You become a teacher and suddenly people think you can't do anything else, and what you do is of no import--until you become personally responsible for any rejection letters from Harvard. What?!?!??!? Every year I want to teach less but every year I have less confidence and energy to find a new career...and then on Saturday I saw this ad. Get this freaky story...
Okay, remember when we used to send ginormous letters and it was best not to read unless you had a chunk of time and a bottle of wine or pot of coffee? Well, I should have warned you before...
The forecast for Saturday was iffy. I had plans to go to a friend's for a barbecue in the afternoon, so it was a bonus that the morning was sunny. Great, I thought. I'll catch a little time by the pool first. Only the gate was locked. Maybe the pool attendant counted on the showers they were predicting and shut off his alarm, but I checked back a couple of times, and it was still locked. And I was unwilling to hop the fence as others did. So I got on the computer, and that's when saw the ad (I subscribed to the Chronicle of Higher Ed's job alert service when I was making my half-hearted attempt at changing careers earlier this year)--and had time to reply.
I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I need to really give this serious consideration if they give me serious consideration. But what if I hate it? What if I can't live without summers off? Well, I suppose it wouldn't be difficult to get another teaching job if I had this experience to report as a little sabbatical of sorts. Maybe my school system would even give me a sabbatical. Of course, if they didn't I'd just get more bitter and angry about how I live in a world that values married people with children (I haven't taken 3 maternity leaves, as someone in my department has, who hasn't been teaching as long as I have), but I'll figure it all out. Wish me luck, and we can both hope that it'll all work out the way it should....
PTA newsletter? Why not? You can always say, oops, sorry, I didn't realize it would be such a time commitment if you hate it. But you're right to think it could be a good experience, not to mention an excellent opportunity to accumulate some good writing fodder. Maybe you can accumulate enough anecdotes so we can co-write the non-fiction best-seller Why Parents Need a Clue: Placing the Blame Where it's Due subtitle: Backing off the Teacher Blame Game. So I say go for it. If it doesn't work out, you can work some pain into the plan to kill your friend. Skip over quick and painless and make it long and torturous. (haha That was a joke!-- in case anyone is reading)
So jealous your kids have 2 weeks left!!! I start Monday. Tomorrow I take my mother to the doctor--smack dab in the middle of the day, and Thursday my friend (I think I called her C) who was in Rome this summer is coming over for a pool day. Not sure about Friday or Saturday, but Sunday, my cousin D is coming over for some sun therapy and to keep me from sinking into deep depression. It could get ugly. (By the way, my friend C says the same thing about Lexapro. Helps her anxiety attacks but then feels nothing, even her libido has suffered.)
For now, I don't want to think about it. My wine glass is screaming for a refill and I should probably get out of my bathing suit and into the shower before my crotch becomes a Petri dish for yeast.
I hope you had a good day today, and that you get a chance to write tonight.
Love you, Barb
Monday, August 18, 2008
Loving Words...
Hey Barb,
Boy, that sure was good timing on your part, using a science word like "entropy". Of course I had to look it up and of course I didn't understand the definition, but only because I don't even really understand molecules and atoms and therefore their connection to energy, but I got the picture: as P would say, a tornado had hit your house. The reason it was such good timing is that I had just finished Love Walked In (minutes prior) and had my dictionary handy because the whole freakin' novel was a vocabulary test. Not in the way that a James Michener novel requires an extended vocabulary and is sort of painful because of it, but in a way that I loved, so much, because it reminded me of how much I love words. And since de los Santos couldn't write a cliche if she tried, I'll just drop mine all over the place in resignation. With every page I read, I fell in love. My favorite character of all? Cornelia's mother. I loved her. Teo? Hello! I couldn't get enough of them. But I have to say, after finishing the book, mostly I just wanted to hang out with the author. Mostly I just want to be de los Santos' best friend. What a remarkable book. How does she do that? Write the world's longest cliche without ever using one? I'm in awe.
Our weekend away was nice. It started out a little rocky (duh) but we kind of got through that and ended up having a really good time. Saturday in particular was very fun. We went into town with all the kids and shopped all the cute little beach shops (about which M groaned, endlessly, but secretly I think he didn't mind). We bought and ate way too much saltwater taffy and carmel corn and ice cream but isn't that what it's all about? We headed back to the house late in the afternoon to grab some beach time. The weather wasn't very good though, the whole weekend, so only JJ went in the water and the rest of us sat huddled in double-layered sweatshirts and jeans. It wasn't raining, but it was windy and overcast most of the time. We ended up going back into town that evening for dinner and had to wait almost 2 hours for a table at the restaurant we had chosen. Turns out the whole world had gone to the beach this weekend because of the outrageous temperatures inland (upwards of 100 in most places) so Canon Beach was jam packed. Inthe end, the wait wasn't that bad - we had a drink and sat out on the patio chatting (even M) until we were called. When we were finally seated, the service and the food were so good and so worth the wait, no one minded a bit. It was one of those evenings where all of us were in a good mood and laughing (even M) and joking with each other...we laughed all through dinner and dessert until we had to roll out of there for eating so much. Those evenings are rare but they can sure tide me over a long time.
We got home last night and J took JJ out golfing today so I've pretty much had the day to myself. I spent two hours finishing my book, went to the gym and folded some laundry...lazy day. We only have two weeks left before school starts and I still haven't got the kids' school supplies. It'll be just like last year, I suppose, the wrong colored pee-chees and the wrong kinds of pens and a binder that is just hella ugly - because I waited until all the good stuff was gone. Thank God I know for a fact that these sorts of disappointments in a child's life do not lead to permanent scarring.
You've piqued my curiosity about the "perfect job". Do tell more. And here's a question for you, since I don't know what I want to be when I grow up and can't make a decision to save my life. A friend of mine referred the president of the PTA to me (I'll kill him later). She called and asked if I was interested in taking over the PTA newsletter this year (because she was told I'm an out-of-work English teacher). First of all, I hate the PTA. I might as well join a quilting/scrapbooking/needlepointing/stamping/Tupperware/Partylite religious cult. Second of all, I don't even read the PTA newsletter, other than to glance through it one time, after which I commented, "Jesus, this is long. Who reads this?" Which made me think twice about the request, because I remember thinking, "I could write this thing so much better". So should I do it? Of course it's a volunteer thing and it will take up hours of my time, but do you think it would be a good thing to do? If I don't read it, does anyone? Will I get sucked into the Cult of PTA and start wearing applique sweatshirts with elastic waistband jeans and Crocs? Or will I maybe gain some experience with layout and Publisher and writing and editing (and is that valid experience, like, for a real job?) Tell me what you think, I'd love to hear your opinion. (Can I mention that it struck me as a little bit of karma that I got that call today, right after I finished the book with all the words I loved, thinking I wish I could find a job that had something to do with words...)
Ok - more laundry to fold and - oh look! Oprah's on! Hope you have a great time with A and L and the kids tonight - looking forward to hearing from you tomorrow.
Love, A
Boy, that sure was good timing on your part, using a science word like "entropy". Of course I had to look it up and of course I didn't understand the definition, but only because I don't even really understand molecules and atoms and therefore their connection to energy, but I got the picture: as P would say, a tornado had hit your house. The reason it was such good timing is that I had just finished Love Walked In (minutes prior) and had my dictionary handy because the whole freakin' novel was a vocabulary test. Not in the way that a James Michener novel requires an extended vocabulary and is sort of painful because of it, but in a way that I loved, so much, because it reminded me of how much I love words. And since de los Santos couldn't write a cliche if she tried, I'll just drop mine all over the place in resignation. With every page I read, I fell in love. My favorite character of all? Cornelia's mother. I loved her. Teo? Hello! I couldn't get enough of them. But I have to say, after finishing the book, mostly I just wanted to hang out with the author. Mostly I just want to be de los Santos' best friend. What a remarkable book. How does she do that? Write the world's longest cliche without ever using one? I'm in awe.
Our weekend away was nice. It started out a little rocky (duh) but we kind of got through that and ended up having a really good time. Saturday in particular was very fun. We went into town with all the kids and shopped all the cute little beach shops (about which M groaned, endlessly, but secretly I think he didn't mind). We bought and ate way too much saltwater taffy and carmel corn and ice cream but isn't that what it's all about? We headed back to the house late in the afternoon to grab some beach time. The weather wasn't very good though, the whole weekend, so only JJ went in the water and the rest of us sat huddled in double-layered sweatshirts and jeans. It wasn't raining, but it was windy and overcast most of the time. We ended up going back into town that evening for dinner and had to wait almost 2 hours for a table at the restaurant we had chosen. Turns out the whole world had gone to the beach this weekend because of the outrageous temperatures inland (upwards of 100 in most places) so Canon Beach was jam packed. Inthe end, the wait wasn't that bad - we had a drink and sat out on the patio chatting (even M) until we were called. When we were finally seated, the service and the food were so good and so worth the wait, no one minded a bit. It was one of those evenings where all of us were in a good mood and laughing (even M) and joking with each other...we laughed all through dinner and dessert until we had to roll out of there for eating so much. Those evenings are rare but they can sure tide me over a long time.
We got home last night and J took JJ out golfing today so I've pretty much had the day to myself. I spent two hours finishing my book, went to the gym and folded some laundry...lazy day. We only have two weeks left before school starts and I still haven't got the kids' school supplies. It'll be just like last year, I suppose, the wrong colored pee-chees and the wrong kinds of pens and a binder that is just hella ugly - because I waited until all the good stuff was gone. Thank God I know for a fact that these sorts of disappointments in a child's life do not lead to permanent scarring.
You've piqued my curiosity about the "perfect job". Do tell more. And here's a question for you, since I don't know what I want to be when I grow up and can't make a decision to save my life. A friend of mine referred the president of the PTA to me (I'll kill him later). She called and asked if I was interested in taking over the PTA newsletter this year (because she was told I'm an out-of-work English teacher). First of all, I hate the PTA. I might as well join a quilting/scrapbooking/needlepointing/stamping/Tupperware/Partylite religious cult. Second of all, I don't even read the PTA newsletter, other than to glance through it one time, after which I commented, "Jesus, this is long. Who reads this?" Which made me think twice about the request, because I remember thinking, "I could write this thing so much better". So should I do it? Of course it's a volunteer thing and it will take up hours of my time, but do you think it would be a good thing to do? If I don't read it, does anyone? Will I get sucked into the Cult of PTA and start wearing applique sweatshirts with elastic waistband jeans and Crocs? Or will I maybe gain some experience with layout and Publisher and writing and editing (and is that valid experience, like, for a real job?) Tell me what you think, I'd love to hear your opinion. (Can I mention that it struck me as a little bit of karma that I got that call today, right after I finished the book with all the words I loved, thinking I wish I could find a job that had something to do with words...)
Ok - more laundry to fold and - oh look! Oprah's on! Hope you have a great time with A and L and the kids tonight - looking forward to hearing from you tomorrow.
Love, A
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
