Working Hard/Hardly Working

Oh, the Urbanity

2008-08-21T22:21:00.004-04:00

I think it only fitting that my first blog in a long time pertains to the subject of my last couple of blog entries, in which I whinged about not achieving in my poetic life. Let the record show that Issa Lewis has recently had a poem accepted to a journal, and also received a decline on a submission that asked for more work to be sent in. So, two good things! And the truth was, it was because I sat down and put in some time. Some real time. This summer has seen a dramatic resurgence in my creative life. I don't know if it's because I've had more free time (only teaching 1-2 classes over the summer gave me some days free), or what...but I'm keeping on it and hope to have a new chapbook ready to start tossing around to folks by the fall-ish.

I often catch myself worrying if I'm just too normal to be a poet...a successful one, anyway...I have a distinct lack of angst and drama in my life these days, and really not a whole lot from the past that I can call on, either. I have no addictions that anyone would find interesting, I'm happily married and householding, we have two cats and no kids, blah blah blah. Where's the strife?

But as I've been writing lately, I am realizing that strife is not what it's all about. Does having a dysfunctional childhood give you fodder for art? Surely. Is it a necessity? No. What I find infinitely more interesting now is the average human condition--the way that small fears manifest into larger ones, the way that the petty becomes significant, the way that all memories, even the good ones, are bittersweet.

That's also one of the things I love about acting on the stage. It gives me a chance to experience situations--and thereby emotions--that I wouldn't necessarily get to on my own. Call me crazy, but I love acting in roles where I'm terrified, heartbroken, ecstatic--the extremes that most of us rarely experience. Honestly, that's why I prefer acting in dramas over comedies. Comedies are fun, and it's fun to do them, but my real love of acting stems from the meat of the human condition. As I've written before, "they come to see you bleed." And so it is.

School starts in a few weeks. I have over 100 students (although, at last check, they were going to split up one of my courses into two sections, because it was already overloaded and there are more bound to sign up). It's going to be an interesting fall.

For those of you who are wondering what the title of the post is about, I should catch you up--we bought a new car recently to replace my old Ford Focus. I loved my Focus, but it was just getting to the point where the repairs were going to be costing us more than the thing was worth. I put a heck of a lot of miles on the thing in seven years, let me tell you! So anyway, my new car is a 2009 Pontiac Vibe in a color that is known by the manufacturer as "blue steel metallic." I have asked others for their opinion on the color, and our best estimate is to call it "deep periwinkle." It's somewhere between a blue and a purple and a gray.

But these days, when I tell people what's new with me, I reach for the immediate, big stuff--new house, new car....and it makes me feel so bourgeois. So incredibly spend-y! I promise, we're not. The big purchases we've made recently have all been more towards needs than wants. I mean, we could have persisted in rental life and I could have probably driven the Focus into the ground, but why? It saves money and stress in the long run to just take the plunge.

And this is just a homeowner's FYI: if you buy a house, and you get a home warranty--DON'T CALL THEM. Unless your home explodes, it's not worth it.

All Moved In

2008-04-15T12:08:00.003-04:00

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are all moved into our new house! Which means we are all moved out of our previous residence on Newhouse. I know, confusing, right? New house, Newhouse....*sigh*

But anyway, yes, everything is currently in the new house. Is it put away? Not remotely, but we're getting there. We spent a lot of last weekend putting things in order--the major stuff, so that we can at least feel like we can function. The kitchen is nearly done--just a few tweaks left and it will be perfect. We've ordered the new table and chairs, but it will be a month or so until it arrives. Which is just as well, because we're hoping to have our tax money in a month or so to pay for it. :)

Life is full and busy right now, as you can imagine....I hardly find the time to think, let alone blog about what I think. My yoga practice keeps me sane. So does the thought that finals are next week, and since most of my finals are really just short self-evaluation papers, my grading load is going to be fairly light. Hoorah! But of course, the 109 research projects are also due next week, and those are not so light. That will take some time to wade through.

Today, in class, we are playing arts-and-crafts with their research projects....I brought markers and paper and scissors, so they can really mark up, cut up, move around, and otherwise completely revamp their papers. The revision process, I've noticed, tends to fall by the wayside (as usual), so I want to make sure they really do it this time. And since this paper counts for 30% of their grades, I would hope they'd get into it!

Anyway, class is starting. Away I go! Will be back later, hopefully with pictures!

Anguish as a Second Language

2008-03-27T13:39:00.003-04:00

I came across the title of this week's blog from a website that I found when I was cruising around looking for peer revision strategies to use in class. It really tickled me, so I thought I'd share it. It wouldn't let me really investigate the website without having a login, so I couldn't see more of what they were talking about, but again, I just loved it.

It also made me think about the way I've been living my life lately. The stress level has been more than a little bit elevated, on multiple levels. And yes, I've been whining about it. I think one could safely say that anguish has been a second language for me over the years. I didn't realize until recently that I didn't like that about myself. That's not to say that it isn't theraputic in small amounts (clinging to Ryan when I don't feel good physically, for example....it's soothing to be held and comforted), and likewise I don't want to not honor my own feelings--I don't want to tell myself that feeling any given way is BAD, in itself. But perhaps it's not the most constructive choice, particularly when it becomes prolonged.

I do appreciate the kind and constructive responses I got to my last post, when I was whinging about my creative life feeling stalled. I still feel somewhat stalled, but I'm being kind to myself about it now. Honestly, this just may not be the best time to devote hours to writing. I have a whole household to purge of unneeded stuff, to pack up, and to move to a new town; then to unpack it, after decorating the new place. And it needs to happen in the span of a couple of weeks. That's just a priority right now. No getting around it.

I like what Chad said about it boiling down to putting in your time at the computer (or wherever you choose to write), creating and revising. I think it's true. I have to make space for that in my life, once the move is over and we're relatively settled. It has to become a priority, right along with my physical health, if I want to be successful at it. I know I have it in me. I just have to do it.

But I also do, as I said, have to be kind to myself and know when I'm approaching overload. I am right now. It will all be worth it, but it's overload nonetheless.

What Really Works

2008-03-18T12:11:00.002-04:00

I just got done reading the most recent postings on the blog for my MFA program, Tyger Burning. It's been updated to include pictures from alumni and lots of postings about what folks are doing these days. Some I don't know because they graduated from the program before my arrival in January 2005, but many I knew (know) and love. I'm so happy for their successes.

And insanely jealous.

I feel as though my creative life is stalled. I feel as though all the publications, awards, all of that--it could be mine. I know I have the potential to achieve great things in the field. But ever since graduation, it has been like pulling teeth to coerce myself to invest the time and energy into writing truly noteworthy poetry--let alone sending it to people who would note it. I've made some halfhearted attempts over the past several months, most of which have come back as rejections. I understand that this is the game--you submit, submit, submit, like throwing jelly at a wall and hoping some will stick while the rest runs off. I know that it takes more than one try. And in honesty, I know I have not given it enough tries.

That doesn't make it easier to receive those rejection letters, or to see the success of an acquaintance. I'm proud to say I know those people; proud to say I come from the same stock as them, that I was taught by the same esteemed teachers. But I worry that it didn't rub off on me in the same way. Continually, I return to the question: "if this is what I love, why is it so hard to make myself commit to it?"

And the usual answers surface: work takes a lot of time, as does the commute to and from. The miscellany of preparing to buy a new house. My need to also devote time to my physical health and well-being. My investment in my marriage. Wanting to be there for family. All of those things are legitimate distractions. But it feels like my creative life is suffering from neglect, as well as the non-paying profession that I'd like to turn into a more lucrative one. I love being at Davenport, the feeling that I have gotten my foot in the door of academia, but it would be nicer to teach more creative class, literature, all of that....

And now if you'll excuse me, I have to go bust some students on Facebook.

The Juiciest Pear

2008-03-11T18:20:00.002-04:00

Today I ate the most delicious pear. We bought them at Meijer on Friday and they were just right--so ripe as to be to the point of dissolving in your mouth. This pear just melted on my tongue. I'd forgotten how good pears can be--real, fresh ones, not ones out of a can and encased in sugar syrup.

TEACHING
The last couple of weeks have been pretty rewarding, as a teacher. More and more students are coming to see me on their own time to get individual help, and I really feel that is the best way to do it. And the best part is, they were getting it! Really getting it. It felt so great to see them light up and finally understand something. It's times like that when I'm truly glad I do this for a job.

On the other hand, I did get my student evaluations back from last semester. On the whole, they were good. There were a couple that seemed from out of left field--apparently I talk about people's sexual preferences too much, and it's offensive?--but I've talked with Diana and feel at peace with it. It's just the way it is. Not everyone is going to like me, my style of teaching, or the subject of English at all--and any one of those reasons is enough for them to lash out and say something mean. Overall, the good comments outweighed the bad by a record ratio.

...and now I have to go! will write more later.

Blocked at Every Turn

2008-03-04T14:10:00.003-05:00

I know I said I would be blogging more, and believe me, I've tried. The most frequent place I blog is at work, when I'm in a class and the students are working on a project. But for the last two weeks the DU network hasn't allowed me access to the site, saying it's a "potential phishing risk" or something....and then the time I tried to blog at home, it came back as the website undergoing routine maintenance. Grr! So here I am now. Apparently DU thinks this is an okay site again, because I am in class. *shrug*

HEALTH, YOGA, TEACHING, AND LOTS OF OTHER TOSH
Well, my recommitment to me so far has been going pretty well. I haven't lost as much weight as I would have liked to, but I'm trying to make it not about that. I have been doing yoga with real regularity, and meditating too, and I feel like it's really helped me in terms of emotional/mental balance and physical energy.

I read an article on Yoga Journal about eating, and how craving foods (particularly sweets) is a symbol of attachment, of obsession, and can knock off your balance. I had never thought about it that way, but I know that it's true now that I think about it. It seems blasphemous to me to not have some kind of dessert with my meal. But truthfully, it's not necessary or even always good. I equated it to the interview I read with Rodney Yee, who explained that sometimes being a teacher can cause you to become dependent on students' praise and flattery....you help them achieve something, and they get all excited about you and say what a good teacher you are (as if you could actually take credit for what they do), but the downside is, once that praise is gone, you're left feeling empty. You constantly search for the next "fix" of praise. Just as I constantly search for the next sweet taste. But what that does is take away your sense of balance and poise....you can't just know you're a good teacher intrinsically. You have to be told. And heaven forbid someone tells you you're not a good teacher.

And as a teacher (not of yoga, but in general) I also feel that way. I feel so gratified when a student expresses their positive feelings about my teaching style, my personality, the class, etc. that it sometimes feels lacking if I go for awhile without hearing any praise. And it cuts to the bone when someone expresses negative feelings towards me, towards my class--even towards my subject in general. That's not balance. That's attaching my sense of self-worth and value on something outside me. And it can only come from me. Only.

THEATER
They announced the new season for the Civic, and it sounds great. They're doing Cyrano in the fall, and I full intend to get cast in that show. *wink* Only one female role? Pshaw!

I'm also intending to try out for Pirates of Penzance, which Kindleberger is doing this summer. For the first time in years, I can actually participate in Kindleberger! Hooray! I've never done outdoor theater, so it should be a fun, new experience.

WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?
This actually happened a few weeks ago, but I thought I should report it anyway. I was on my way to work one Wednesday morning, and I'd gotten to the place just south of Hamilton where M-40 widens to four lanes (a blessing for those of us who hate getting caught behind the "Hurry Courier Service" car who goes as much as 20 mph under the speedlimit....hurry, indeed....). It's very busy at that point in the road. And as I approached it, I saw two dogs in the road. In fairness, there was about a foot of snow on the ground, so it's not like they had a lot of options about where to walk....but they conveniently chose the middle of the road, rather than the safer option of the shoulder. They were also completely unafraid of cars or honking, and in fact seemed like they wanted to go up to the cars who would slow down for them. Sadly, not a lot of people were slowing down, and that angered me....I mean, if you can't be bothered to think about the life of an animal, worry about your car! These were both large dogs, lab-sized or bigger, and would probably really do some damage to your front end if you hit them. But some people are just both callous and shortsighted, I guess.

So I stopped and called them over, and they came without hesitation....such sweet dogs, these two. It was obvious they had once belonged to someone; they loved people and even knew their commands a little bit. I diverted them (thankfully, a woman stopped and helped me who had dog treats and other accoutrements in her car) and Animal Control picked them up.

Well, then I learned that the county Animal Shelter routinely put animals down....they're just too small and can't handle the volume, so animals don't stick around for long if they aren't claimed or adopted. I was horrified. I couldn't imagine putting down such sweet dogs, and I don't even like dogs! I had every intention of adopting them myself and then finding homes for them personally, if no one else did. As it turned out, two separate rescue organizations took each of them, so I didn't have to resort to extremes. But I followed their progress all the way through, and now they'll be safe, happy, and in a home as opposed to Death Row.

It really makes me consider getting more involved in animal issues....I understand that county shelters have to make do with what they have, and if they don't have space....they have to do what they have to do. So why don't they get more funding to build bigger facilities? This is something I may address, since I will soon be an Allegan county resident....

Speaking of which.....

HOME BUYING
Our closing date is set: March 26! We will take possession on the 29th and begin moving then. Our official "big move" date is April 5, but throughout that week we'll be in and out, moving smaller things and painting, etc. to get ready for the rest of our stuff. It seems so strange to think it's only a matter of weeks away. 3 weeks from tomorrow!

POETRY
I realized something important this past week while I was on spring break in regards to my poetry. I'd been getting pretty frustrated, not just at my lack of output, but by the fact that what I have put out seems to be coming back without results. The frustration I felt reminded me of the same frustration (mixed with a healthy dose of self-doubt) that I felt for the last five years or so, trying to get cast in plays at the Civic. Literally, five years and no casting. Granted, I didn't try out for every play available, but I did audition at least once or twice a season as my schedule allowed, and no luck. This stood in direct contrast to the praise I'd received after my first show there from the illustrious Jim Carver (whom I saw, recently, at the Civic season-announcement party--it was so good to see him!).

So after I didn't get initially cast in The Women, I asked Preston, who was directing that show, what I could be doing differently in auditions to bring better results. Obviously I didn't need him to explain himself and why specifically he didn't cast me, but I wanted to know what I might be doing that was putting me in the slush pile. He said that while I read as well as anyone, I hadn't made myself "memorable" in comparison to all the others who auditioned with me (particularly for that show--he must have seen at least 75-100 women and girls). So, in other words, good, but not exciting, not enough to etch myself into the memory of the director. I took his words to heart, and, when I auditioned for Macbeth, I went over the top. And what do you know? I got cast.

That made me think of what Bob AuFrance, who directed me in Picnic my senior year at Albion said. He told me, "Remember, they [the audience] come to see you bleed." In other words, they don't pay money for a ticket to see something bland--they come to see your heart soar or break, so they can feel along with you--almost a voyeuristic/vicarious situation. And that made sense to me at the time, and it still does.

So, turning that same logic on my poetry, I can see where the poems I've been sending in are not bad, not thoroughly rejectable (as, in my darker moments, I imagine them to be), but simply not memorable. When a contest receives hundreds of entries, you absolutely need to stand out from the rest. You achieve that by "bleeding," so to speak, on the page. Letting your gut write the poem, not your head....your head can polish it, but your gut has to write it.

This (and a deadline) inspired me to revisit a poem I'd written probably a year and a half ago, during my semester with Alicia Ostriker. It was a poem about my dad's knee replacement surgery. I'd never been happy with it--it felt lackluster, bland, and emotionless. So I went back and bled all over it, figuratively speaking. *grin* But seriously--I allowed the real crux of the issue surface. Not the literal happening--oh, he had a knee replacement, it's a really grueling procedure, and he's in pain now, isn't that sad....but OH. He's my dad, we signed him up for this thinking it would help and it didn't, and now his pain is my pain, and not just that--all the drugs and their side effects, the feeling like this is a horrible carnival ride we can't get off of now, the heartbreak of it. I won't post it here because it is up for consideration at an online poetry journal, but rest assured, you'll see it there when it comes out. :)

Day Two

2008-02-12T18:16:00.001-05:00

HEALTH
Today is Day 2 of my 30 days. Yesterday went fairly well. I did manage to get in 30 min. of yoga despite coming home late and tired. It did feel good to go to bed after that....rather than stampeding into bed, to quietly relax myself to into it. I think I got a deeper sleep.

I've been following my meal plan, more or less....some adjustments made, as it was planned out two weeks ago and sometimes the planning wasn't great--running out of this or that--so I've had to adjust, but I've done what I can and I've stayed within my guidelines anyway. So kudos to me. :)

TEACHING
Had an interesting day today at school. Last week, I sort of laid the smack down on a student who, in my opinion, had really dropped the ball. Granted, it wasn't really a huge problem--the amount of work he was missing wasn't actually going to affect his grade very much, but I wanted to make a point. He had emailed some assignments to me--not telling me that he was doing that, and then not checking in when he didn't hear from me. When it came to light that he had, fact, emailed me, I told him I wouldn't accept them since they are now quite late, as per my late policy.

Well, let's just say he wasn't happy with that.

And I want to say, I have a soft spot for this student. I think he's a smart kid who is capable of a lot, but he's not living up to it. All the more reason why I really wanted him to get the message on this one.

Needless to say, he got upset enough to contact my supervisor, who in turn contacted me. She was with me on the issue, but since I never specified in my syllabus about the email process, never made policies saying that you have to do it this way, and this part is my responsibility and this part is yours...etc. then I can't hold him to anything. So the obvious step now is to make a policy as an addendum to all of my syllabi, and include it from now on....but the second step is to deal with this student.

It was just a little upsetting, because I had felt really good and really strong about that exchange....I think I blogged about it last week....I felt like I'd finally stood up and been the teacher I wanted to be. Not unkind, but not a pushover either. *shrug* It was just weird that it should work out that way. But I'm not taking it as a deterrent....I will keep my head up and keep doing what I know is right. I accept no unearned guilt.

30 Days

2008-02-10T22:30:00.001-05:00

I've made a decision: tomorrow begins a new 30-day challenge for me. I've sort of "fallen off the wagon," so to speak, in terms of my attention to myself and my health. So I'm clambering back on.

What prompted this thought was the remembrance of how it felt when I was really paying attention. Not just to things like calories and minutes of activity, but to myself. To my body. What it wants, what it needs, and recognizing the difference between the two. I'm already trying to figure out what it is about my relationship with food that causes me to want to secretly pig out and hide the evidence (although eventually the evidence becomes apparent on my hips). I heard on an informational radio show a tip to parents, saying "let your child serve him or herself at mealtimes. They'll naturally gravitate towards portion sizes that suit them in terms of their hunger and their nutritional needs." And my first thought was, when did that disappear for me? I can't remember a time when I didn't look at food and think MORE!

However, I know that greediness does not respond to restriction. The more I disallow, the more likely I am to break down eventually and eat myself sick. I have to find a happy medium between a rigid, pre-planned meal list and the ability to choose what I feel like eating. I need choices. But above all, I need to learn how to listen to my body and not the little voice inside that wants to hoard and binge. My physical self knows when it's hungry, and how much food will satisfy it. I need to find that voice.

To that end, I'm going to be incorporating daily meditation, and often journalling and/or blogging here as I go. Daily time to be with myself and listen deeply. Because I think what really needs to be addressed is my thought process, those voices inside--some of which are currently louder than others.

So, follow along with my journey, if you will! Hopefully you find some nuggets you can hold on to, too. You can also watch me on Sparkpeople as I track and journal there; my screen name is issa1010.

Here's to 30 days of focus!

A Red-Letter Day

2008-02-06T20:59:00.001-05:00

HOME
Today was our home inspection. We met the inspector at the house and really had no idea what we were in for. Obviously we wanted him to be both thorough and to tell us that the house was perfect--two possibly incongruous desires, but we hoped for the best. As it was, it went swimmingly. The inspector found nothing in the way of serious issues with the house, and gave it a "clean bill of health," so to speak. There are a few minor things, nothing hazardous to our health, that we're going to ask the sellers to fix up before we make the final exchange of keys.

It felt great being in that house, knowing that it was, for all intents and purposes, mine. I stood in the master bedroom taking pictures, and felt a tingle of warmth and excitement. This is my room! I can decorate it, fill it with treasures, make it my own, and stay in it for a long, long time. And the best part is, my nagging need to avoid stagnation allows me to re-decorate, re-fill, totally change things around whenever I want.

I'm trying to decide (with some help and input from Ryan, of course) how we're going to set things up. We have two bedrooms besides the master--one is fairly small and is currently used as a nursery by the present owners, but the other one is good-sized, and there is a sizable area in the basement too. We'd like to have a guest room, an office, and a future kids' room, but I also want an area to set aside for my yoga practice and meditation. Some place that's just mine. I wonder where I'm going to carve that space out...

SUCKING ME DRY, or, PUTTING ON MY BIG GIRL PANTIES
Today was also a very important day on two other levels, one of which being the fact that today marks the fourth blood donation I've made in a 12-month period. Anyone who knows me well (or even in passing) knows that I have what I affectionately refer to as a "problem" with needles. To call it a problem is to call the fighting in the Middle East a "spat." I first discovered this problem about 8 years ago when I had to have some bloodwork done--they were going to test my thyroid for some reason or other, and I literally freaked out. Not in an exaggerated way. I sobbed, I pulled at my hair, I threatened nurses....it took all of three hours to get a single vial of blood from me. The order called for two, but the nurse said one would have to do, because clearly they weren't going to get another one from me in the state I was in.

Since that day, we've speculated on what has shorted in my wiring, so to speak. There are theories involving repressed memories of my ear piercing (which was, in fact, traumatic), having a mean pedatrician (also true), and so on and so forth. What really matters is that, in the past year or so, I've decided I really don't want to be this way anymore. It's embarrassing, honestly. To have a total meltdown in front of perfect strangers over something that is, to most people, a minor discomfort--and that is really the worst part of it--people's reactions. A year ago (February 13, 2007--the date is etched into my memory) I decided to put an end to my own suffering, or at least try. After all, there are things in life ahead that are just going to require needles--childbirth, my kids' immunizations, checking cholesterol, all the things that are part of leading a healthy life. And I'd like to get through them with my dignity intact, if possible. So I went to the Michigan Community Blood Center in Grand Rapids and they facilitated my first ever voluntary poke. I figured that if I was going to do it, I might as well put myself in a position to help others.

Since that date, and the subsequent freak-out that the staff kindly endured, I have given blood twice more. I had signed a card saying I would give four times in 12 months. If I made that goal, a gift would be given to a hospitalized child in my honor. I also have gotten to the point where I really don't get too crazy--I might shed a tear or two, or be really tense, but no more hyperventilating, no more onslaught of tears. The staff at the MCBC is phenomenal--exceedingly kind and compassionate, skilled, and they double well as therapists too. *smile*

Today I was faced with a choice. The weather in Michigan is atrocious right now, and we were beginning to be hit by yet another storm. Since my 1-year deadline is coming up, and my chances to go to GR were limited, I thought I might take advantage of the Red Cross blood drive being held at school today. I figured, since every time recently that I've planned to go, the weather has sabotaged me, I had every reason to believe it would again when I tried to go tomorrow. So why not do it now, while I had the chance?

I was nervous because I don't do blood drives, as a rule. Part of getting through the experience gracefully is my knowledge that no one is sitting around gaping at me or judging me, and blood drives by definition mean lots of people with not much else to do than sit around and look at other people. Not my idea of a good time. And especially at work--I didn't want my students to see me fall apart. But since the weather was bad and not many people were around, I thought I might be able to handle it.

So, accomplishment #1: I did, in fact, give blood today for the fourth time, as pledged. Go me! I would say I'm still not "better"--I may never be "better" in the way that I don't care at all about needles, but at least I can get through it without breaking down. That may be the best I can hope for, and it's good enough.

Accomplishment #2 was dealing with a nurse today that would have formerly had me crumple into a spineless heap on the floor. I hate dealing with callous people. I really do. No matter what the situation is, I am just horrible at standing up for myself when someone is rude or mean or insensitive. I don't know why....but I really want to get better at it. So when I encountered a nurse at the blood drive (the ONLY one there, I will add, who was like this....everyone else was very kind), I did manage to stand up for myself. She was in charge of doing the initial screenings and registration, and when I told her I might cry during the finger prick and then, obviously, the donation itself, she said, "well, we can't proceed if you're crying."

*blink*

I really thought she was joking at first. Who ever heard of such a thing? But she was very serious. And then she continued to stare at me like I was a sideshow attraction at a circus as I tried to explain about my "problem." She literally could not believe someone might be anxious about needles. Let alone that they might cry about it. And so, without returning her meanness, I gathered my things back up and said, "maybe today is not the day for it. Thank you anyway." And I left!

What I really wish I'd said would be something like, "Is there someone else I could work with? I have very specific needs and I would love to have your most patient nurse help me." Because I really did want to give blood, and leaving would mean I might not make my goal of the fourth donation by next Wednesday. But even so--not accepting her attitude was a huge step for me in Project Put-On-Your-Big-Girl-Panties, in which I learn to be the fabulous woman I am and not let anyone dim my radiance with their uncompassionate, impatient, rude, and insensitive ways.

This is not to say that I don't understand the idea of someone having a bad day, and you catch them at a bad moment and they act out. That I totally understand (even though I maintain we always have a choice in how we interact, and it's our responsibility not to displace negative feelings onto undeserving victims). This was different. This was clearly a personality issue, and I was having none of it. Booya!

...Still, the way out of the building led me back into the room where the other, nicer nurses were--the one's I'd chatted with earlier--and they were expecting me to come back registered and ready to donate. When I explained what happened, they rushed to my side and said, "don't you listen, we'll check you in ourselves, you don't have to work with anyone else." And so we got through it. I'm glad they did that. I'm really proud of myself for giving a fourth time.

Next stop: volunteering at the MCBC? Possibly....

Slack Attack

2008-02-05T13:53:00.000-05:00

Ha! It's been awhile. Things have been very busy, indeed. I have four classes this term, and a grand total of probably about 70 students (I lost a few along the way, as usual; the original count was 75+). So that means a lot of grading and planning for me, which means, in proportion, not a lot of time to blog. But things, they are a-changing!

HOME
Biggest news yet: we are buying a house! I would post a picture here, but the listing has been taken offline (obviously, since it's no longer on the market). Tomorrow, we're going to have the home inspection done, and I plan on taking a camera so I can provide pics to the masses.

Anyway, it's the same house we almost bought last year. We came so close--even had the offer written up--but chickened out at the last minute when we did a closer examination of our finances. We decided to wait and use my new income to pay down debt. We did just that (and pretty successfully, too) and then came to find out the house was still available! So we went to see it and fell in love with it all over again. We're in a much better place now to afford it, so we're going for it. It's about time! I'm so tired of renting. At this point, we're looking to move the first weekend of April. We take possession of it earlier that week, so we'll be spending evenings after work that week painting and cleaning and otherwise getting it ready for our stuff.

We're taking time now to go through our things and really pare down our clutter. Actually, it's not really clutter--not in the debilitating sense of the word--we just own a LOT. And I have no idea how that happened. On some level, it's clear, because obviously we each lived alone for a few years before we got married, so we had two households' worth of living supplies, plus we got a whole load of wedding gifts. Somehow we ended up with 2-3 blenders. ??? Thankfully I've pared some of it down over the years....a girlfriend had a house fire and needed new kitchen things, which I was happy to donate....and so on. But there's still a lot.

I know that a lot of my packrat ways are due to the fact that I'm very sentimental. But I'm the worst kind of sentimentalist, because I also have a memory like an elephant. Other people save some cute little souvenir and later forget where they got it or why, or who got it for them. I remember. But the best part of the de-cluttering has been actually realizing that I don't remember everything anymore. In going through a box of knickknack-y things that I never got around to unpacking in the 3, almost 4 years that I've lived in this place, I found two little Hot Wheels cars modeled after the new Volkswagen Beetle. I think they came from Happy Meals or something, and I hung on to them for at least 2 moves. Now I can't remember where I got them, or why I thought they were so cool. And I was so proud of myself for forgetting! And also proud for throwing them away, instead of telling myself I would give them to my nephew (because I doubt I'll see him between now and the move, and then the cars would just get packed away and forgotten about again).

THEATER
Actually, it feels redundant to write under this category, because I really have nothing to report other than I've opted not to participate in any theater until the summer. Partly this is because of my work schedule (it's been made clear to me that I may not have any more subs for classes), and then of course the move. There's just too much going on.

I did get an invitation to audition for Hollywood Arms, but the timing is just horrible. It coincides directly with our move and pre-moving (painting, etc.). I would really love to be a part of that show, because Carol Burnett is one of my favorite comediennes of all time, but it's just not going to work. Ryan would kill me dead!

POETRY
Seems like sometimes everything comes together....sometimes not. I really haven't felt terribly inspired lately. What I have tried to do is be kind to myself, not strain against myself, and allow any creative longings to take flight. What I mean by that is, okay--last November, I wrote a NaNo novel. I finished it! It was a huge accomplishment for me, and I have to say, not all of it was crap. I mean, there's potential there for it to be something. And lately, I have found myself more inclined to work on that than on poetry. Part of me wants to slap my own wrist--"bad girl! You're a poet, not a novelist!"--but then I tell myself, no. You are a writer. You are an artist. And whatever feels right, right now, is what you should pursue. Poetry will come in unbidden hours, a dripping tap that suddenly comes on full force.

I'm also getting started on a new essay for Alehouse; I'm thinking I'll focus on Ruth Ellen Kocher's writing and how it has informed my own. Ross Gay introduced me to her writing during my last semester at NEC, and then I had the privilege of meeting her later on. She's one of those poets who you read and it has a profound effect on you. Some poets you admire, but others you read and think, "that's it. That's the direction I want to go." Not something idolizing as "I want to be her," but that feeling of kindred-ness, of recognizing a shred of yourself in someone else's writing that perhaps you'd neglected, but suddenly realized was still there waiting for you to remember.

Speaking of which, I'd better shoot her an email! Gotta get this thing on the road! :)

Tree of Life

2008-01-07T20:06:00.000-05:00

My dear friend Val is now a Certified Labor Doula! Check out her website (it's hotspotted with the title above). I am in such awe of her accomplishment, and it has the ring of truthfulness that comes whenever you know someone is in just the right profession for them. I love the fact that she is doing this, and I can't wait to ask her to be MY doula when the time comes!

Mish-Mash

2007-12-11T18:23:00.000-05:00

HOLIDAYS
It's been awhile since I blogged, so here's the lowdown on the holidays. For Thanksgiving, we did the actual holiday with Ryan's cousin's family, who lives in town. It was a pretty okay time, although it was weird not seeing Bob and Carol there, and there were considerably more small children underfoot. Interesting how families grow that way. One positive thing that came out of it was my introduction to Karaoke Revolution for PS2, which was a hoot and a half. I really have to get that! Now, what would be great would be if they could combine Dance Dance Revolution AND Karaoke Revolution.....whew....

When Thanksgiving weekend hit, we went to my parents' house. I was glad to see my brother and his family, including my two amazing nephews. We weren't sure if they were going to be able to come--they've been really busy and stretched thin since my sister-in-law's dad was diagnosed with multiple myeloma. But they braved a day with us. I couldn't believe how big Brenden has gotten! He's seven months old, but wearing year-old clothes and rapidly growing out of them...

For Christmas, we're probably just going to hang with my parents again. We probably won't see Abe and Tracie and the kids until after the New Year. It will be nice to have a relaxing holiday....I fail to see how running around all the time really puts anyone in the holiday spirit.

THEATER
It's kind of redundant for me to put this here, since the long and short of it is that I've decided to abstain from theater for awhile. I didn't audition for Virginia Woolf or anything at the Civic, either--I decided that my sense of balance and well-being was too fragile right now to endure another rigorous rehearsal process. Plus, I can't say that I truly love any of the shows being auditioned right now. Virginia Woolf is more like a trainwreck I can't look away from--I'm intrigued, even repulsed, but it's not something I would love for the sake of doing it. I would really just enjoy the people I'd be doing it with. So a little break for me. Meanwhile, my friend Beth is auditioning for the Civic's Shakespeare in Hollywood, which is one I really want to see when it opens! Wahoo!

NANO
I finished!
50,131/50,000 (according to the NaNo word counter...my own count says over 50,200. But oh well)

SCHOOL
The semester is coming to a close. Finals are next week in all of my classes. It's hard to believe it's gone by. Five whole classes! And now they're done. I will probably get to see a lot of my PLATO and Basic Comp. students again in higher-level classes--a lot of them have been telling me they're registered with me for winter. I think it's awesome that they are excited about that--I don't have the heart to point out that I teach most of the classes at this campus now, so it's not like they have a whole lot of choice. ;)

I did have my 30-day evaluation just before Thanksgiving, and it went very well. Really, there wasn't much to say! I overachieved, like usual, with my goals sheet and even in creating a sheet that detailed some non-goal-related achievements--stuff more related to my attitude and willingness. Diana said she's happy with what I've accomplished, and I'm glad for that.

Lately I find myself struggling with the students who are not attentive and/or constantly try to get out of doing actual work. Believe it or not, this is not most of the students (as cynical minds would have you believe). Really, just a few. And I'm not entirely sure what to do about it. Partly I think, "well, you've paid your money to get the time with me. And if this is how you want to spend it, so be it. It's your dime." So that part of me wants to just let them go about their merry ways and if they fail, or get a grade they don't like, that's their deal.

On the other hand, part of me really wants to whip these people into some shape--to knock it into their heads that this is not acceptable, and disrespectful to me. That's what gets me so worked up--it is disrespectful to the teacher, and on my less-than-100% days, I respond to it that way. I don't like that I do; I'd like to think that I'm above that. But I also remember that the teachers I respected most in high school and college were the ones that demanded excellence, and you really needn't bother showing up for class unprepared and unwilling to work. It just wasn't accepted.

I wonder if the two attitudes are not entirely mutually exclusive....can I do both? Be firm and yet detached? Someone mentioned the other day somewhere about the Buddhist tenet of not forming attachments--to things, to people, to ideas, to outcomes. But to be peaceful in whatever you do. That makes sense to me on some level, but I have no idea how to achieve it!

Meanwhile, I've been reading Alfie Kohn again--this time about his take on grades, standardized testing, and what our schools need to be for students to really thrive (he focuses on K-12, although I see a lot of his theories as applicable to higher education as well). I'm wondering how I might incorporate some of those strategies into my classrooms next term. What if there were no tests, no grades, and everything was about the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake? If students were allowed to explore what actually interested them within a field, creating their own structure that they controlled? A deeply engrained neural pathway or two in my brain objects to this, saying that it would be chaos, but then again, I'm not so sure. And can there be a balance between imposed structure (what I'm telling them they have to do) and self-created structure?

HEALTH
Since Thanksgiving, I've really rededicated myself to my own personal health and well-being. Part of this is weight loss, but another, possibly even more significant part, is just learning how to balance. I have a sort-of new job that takes a lot of time, and has a lengthy commute, so that's a huge part of my day and week; I have a husband that I want to see, and friends I want to talk to. And on top of all of that, I want to be able to make sensible choices that are good for me in terms of my relationship with food and moving my body.

To that end, I joined Sparkpeople.com, which so far has been a blessing in every way. It costs nothing, for one thing, and yet offers so much in terms of information, food and activity trackers, articles, and community. It reminds me a little of Weight Watchers, in that the community aspect is vital to success--although WW cost money, and required your time to attend meetings (and it cost extra if you wanted to access online features!). So here, you get that feeling without paying money and you can have it 24/7, whatever time of day or night you happen to need it. It also has the food and activity trackers, which are awesome in how specific they are. And the best feature, in my opinion, is the sister site, Sparkrecipes.com, which offers a recipe calculator--you enter in the ingredients and their amounts, tell it the number of servings, and it gives you a nutritional breakdown per serving. Absolutely brilliant. Why has no one thought of this before? (or at least offered it for free?)

And so, I'm on my journey once again. I've lost a little weight thus far, but I'm trying not to be results-oriented (though that's difficult). I have noticed how much more energy I have into the night, especially on Mondays and Tuesdays when I'm at work for so long. I find I have more energy going into a night class than some of my students who've been sleeping half the day, even though I've been at work 9 hours and counting! That's kind of fun.

One of the most interesting moments so far, though, happened just today. I had kind of a lousy start--I thought it would be a "snow day" (or technically an "ice day") because of the big storm passing through the area, but they didn't cancel. So I had to get up extra early because I knew the roads would be bad. Then, for some reason, breakfast really didn't fill me, and before I knew it, I was on one of my emotional eating spirals. Mind you, I have never been able to identify one AS it begins--usually I can only see it after I've gone through it and managed to eat my way through my kitchen, or a vending machine, or whatever. By then I've eaten myself nearly to sickness and regret every moment I just spent. Today, however, I actually caught myself. I listened to my body and it told me I wasn't hungry....I'd just eaten lunch, and it was a good, full lunch....it was my mind calling out for more, my mind that wanted appeasement. I could actually separate the sensations of being physically hungry and mentally/emotionally hungry. It was actually kind of surreal! I hope I can do it again next time this happens. Because I managed to keep my eating in check today, despite considerably bad odds, and I want to keep it up.

Oh, Yeah, And...

2007-11-20T20:12:00.000-05:00

I've been giving doctoral work some thought. I am going to go for it, although it looks like my official start date may be a ways off. I have to retake the GRE, since it's been over five years since I last took it (and thank goodness, because I really didn't do as well as I would have liked to the first time), and demonstrate a language proficiency.

The deadlines for two of my major contenders--MSU and UofM--are too close for me to cut it this year; besides, I'd like to keep my stress level to a minimum and only handle 2-3 major life changes per year. *snicker* BUT, this gives me a chance to work on the GRE thing--and actually study for it this time--and my language component. French is the obvious choice, because I've already studied it. I figure it would take me a semester to get back to where I was, fluency-wise, when I stopped, which was after the first semester of my freshman year. Mind you, I tested into the 300 level classes when I applied at Albion, so I was pretty good back then. I don't think it would take me too long to get back in the swing of things if I began studying it in earnest again.

To that end, I just applied at the local community college to see if I could start taking some French classes this summer. I'm kind of excited about that! I've always wanted to get back into learning foreign languages (I still want to learn Portuguese; when that brilliant day comes that I meet Roderigo Santoro, I want to be ready!).

And so, mile marker #1 accomplished!

Holiday Countdown

2007-11-20T18:46:00.000-05:00

NaNo Word count: 30,622/50,000

Some days are full of surprises.

Today wasn't really one of them, but I felt like saying that! It was a pretty bog standard day, actually; it being so close to the holiday, I saw attendance in my classes take a serious dip. One of my classes only had one student in it! She and I sat and talked about her paper (we're writing about literature and the arts right now), about Shakespeare in general, and then about life. I am consistently honored and humbled by the way some of my students open up to me personally. It makes me feel as though I'm a part of their lives in a way that's more meaningful than simply teaching them proper grammar and how to write a strong thesis statement. It's what makes my job worthwhile.

Speaking of my job, tomorrow is my 90-day evaluation. Hopefully this goes well! I have no reason to think it won't, but you know how it is....evaluation. There's just no way to make that sound good!

FAMILY
On the family front, my grandma had a pacemaker installed (is that the right word? installed?) last week. They nicked one of her lungs, which is apparently a common error in this type of surgery, but she self-healed and appears fine. Better than fine, actually. Her circulation appears to have improved, and she says she feels more energetic. At the very least, we're hoping she won't be having the falls she was having before. She's back in her assisted living home and getting some PT during recovery. Mom said that she (my grandma) even got out her crochet needle and started crocheting! This is something she hasn't done in years--not since my grandfather died in 2004. I'm really glad she's doing it, because, well, she's famous for her baby booties, and I want to make sure I have a pair for when we start having kids!

I still think it's miraculous what the human body can do. A year ago, she had a massive stroke--the kind that can shut people down for good. And now, here she is, crocheting! And happier than ever.

POETRY
For those of you who keep up with such things, my review of Patrick Rosal's My American Kundiman has appeared in Alehouse this month. So far, still no responses on any of my submissions from the spring, summer, and obviously not fall. I'm getting a little antsy! But I keep rollin'; I have my submission schedule to keep, and I'm constantly adding to it.

I've been really trying to focus on revision (around my NaNo exploits, of course)--I have a good deal of new material that can and should be edited. Much love to my friend Michael, who's volunteered to read my stuff and give me the real truth. *sheepish grin*

Victory!

2007-11-16T11:04:00.000-05:00

Yesterday we officially paid off our first credit card. We had decided back in the summer, when I first took the new job, that we would wait on buying a house until we had paid down some of our debt. We had done some calculations and discovered that while we could afford a house, we couldn't afford a house AND make headway on debt. We could do one or the other, but not both at once. So, the somewhat responsible people we are, we waited and focused on the debt. Yesterday we mailed the final check to pay off the first card we focused on. It had a decent balance on it, and the interest rate was ludicrous. And now it's gone! Ryan photocopied the check before he mailed it, and we plan to make a "Wall of Shame-turned-Fame," showing our progress. We don't plan to have it all paid off by spring (which is our tentative timeline to buying a home), but we should have made a serious dent by then, which will in turn probably get us a better mortgage. We're also saving a lot each month, so we might have the beginnings of a real down payment.

I find it interesting that the last loan officer we spoke to about mortgages said he thought it was fairly silly to worry about down payments anymore....most folks don't have the traditional 20%, and it doesn't knock that much off your overall monthly payments from a bank perspective. However, when we were seriously looking at one house and even went as far as to get a pre-approval for it, our lack of down payment meant we had to get mortgage insurance. Mortgage insurance adds as much as $200 per month to your payment. To me, that's significant and thoroughly discouraging. And yes, it only lasts as long as it takes you to accrue that 20% equity, but that takes a long time if you're only paying the minimum--and let's really face the irony here. They're essentially making the people WHO CAN'T AFFORD THE DOWN PAYMENT pay more. Does that make sense to anyone? Or am I the only one who finds it a little strange and illogical?

Granted, I understand that the mortgage companies need the reassurance that, should you default on your loan, they won't be socked with hundreds of thousands of dollars of unpaid mortgage. I understand that concern. However, perhaps the real determining factor should be repayment histories--examining a potential customer's credit score and seeing how well they've managed their obligations. We take great pride in the fact that, even when things were at their very worst financially speaking, we somehow managed--on one income!--to squeak through with only one late payment on our records. Only one! And that was a 30-60 day payment, not a complete non-payment. Just mailed it a little late. I think that should count for more in the scheme of things, because it really was an accomplishment. But who asked me? No one, that's who. *laugh*

NANO
I'm still about a day behind in my NaNoWriMo word count, but it's still the best I've ever done, and really the most fiction I've ever managed to write. I can feel myself hitting the wall a little bit--since I didn't start out with a clear direction for the story, I'm fumbling with what to do next, and how things are going to resolve themselves.

Word count: 23536/50000

NaNoWriMo, Memories, etc.

2007-11-12T17:26:00.001-05:00

For those of you who are unaware, November is so much more of a month than the mark of radio stations playing premature Christmas music and the beginning of the mad holiday dash to see as many relatives possible in 30 days. It's also an institution to those of us who enjoy writing (and don't necessarily pride ourselves on being particularly good at it): National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. Anyone feeling gutsy can attempt to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November--that's about 1,667 words on average per day for 30 days. It is supposed to be an original work, not something you started long ago (although you are allowed to do some pre-November planning, outlining and such, but no actual writing).

I have tried, and failed, to complete this challenge since 2004. The timing is never good, it seems; in the fall of 2004, I was applying for and deciding on graduate schools. In 2005, I was in graduate school; and worst of all, in 2006, I was finishing up my manuscript for said graduate school. Any way you sliced it, I just didn't have time to dedicate to fiction. This year, I wouldn't say I necessarily had more time than any other year previously; I just feel more up to it. And so far, I've kept up remarkably well. I'll be posting my word count on here as I blog, so you can keep up. And it's never too late to try! Sign up anytime you want. My friend Beth signed up mid-month in 2004, and has kicked my butt every year!

FAMILY
My grandmother is currently in the hospital, and probably got a pacemaker installed today (I'll get the whole scoop later tonight when I call home). She was having multiple falls at her assisted living home--4 falls in 8 days--and the only way they can account for them is that her heart rate sometimes drops inexplicably low. While installing a pacemaker is risky for anyone, especially someone her age, it makes sense to be as proactive as possible. If she keeps falling, she could eventually really hurt herself, or else become afraid to walk and take to a wheelchair before her time. Either way, we don't want to impair the quality of her life by not taking all the possible steps to ensure it.

TEACHING
This bit really doesn't have much to do with teaching, per se, but I did run into a former student today when I was at the Fulton St. location. I'd finished with my class and was out the door when I saw her in the hall. This young woman has a special place in my heart; she confided some very personal information to me last spring and I was so honored that she did (it also explained a lot about why she was struggling in my class when she so obviously shouldn't have been). I helped her as much as I could, and she showed me today that she has this little green token that is given out when one reaches 3 months of straight sobriety. I cheered aloud! She is such a precious person, so smart and so nice, that she deserves not to have to lose a battle to alcoholism so young. I have written a poem about her, although it's not finished yet; when it is, I'll put it up here. I'm just so proud of her for taking control of her life. And I'm glad I could be there for her at a difficult time of realization and taking steps to get help.

Nanowrimo word count: 17,047/50,000

F^@#$*($!%ing drunk drivers!

2007-11-01T15:25:00.000-04:00

Albion link about David Green, his daughter Brenda Green O'Connell, and her husband Patrick O'Connell

I am just sick over this. Absolutely sick.

I know that it doesn't say here anywhere that they were involved in an accident with a drunk driver, but Ryan works with a guy who knows them and he had the inside scoop. Ryan and I both attended Albion with Brenda and her husband, Pat. I didn't know Pat, but I knew Brenda fairly well because of our involvement with choir and Briton Singers. I'm horrified at the thought of this. It's just awful.

Who, in their right mind, drives after drinking? That is a level of stupidity I really don't comprehend.

Brenda and her husband are currently in Bronson Hospital here in Kalamazoo. Please keep them in your prayers, as well as the rest of their family, who has to cope with the loss of Dr. Green.

Frustration

2007-10-30T19:32:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I wonder about people.

I hate the feeling that I get sometimes about my students....much as I imagine a parent finds herself horrified at the thoughts she might have about her child on a particularly exasperating day. I hate that I think about "when I was in school," as if it mattered. "When I was in school, I never talked back to a teacher!" "When I was in school, I always showed up to class prepared!" --which is mostly true. I may have skipped out on or only skimmed a required reading, but if something was due, by golly, I had it ready to turn in.

But that's how I feel today. I don't understand how, after I've repeated myself time after time, after I've distributed and discussed the class syllabus, which has all the dates for things that are due in bold, that I can still receive the blank stares and the remarkably guiltless deadpan faces.

It makes me wonder about the world, it really does. I mean, I often wonder about the world, but stuff like this really gets under my skin. I look at some of the younger people I know, and it just really seems as though it's a different world to them than it was for me. And I suppose in many ways, it is.

And maybe it has to do with the nature of the school that I attended, versus the nature of the school I now teach at. I attended a private, traditional, 4-year liberal arts college. Davenport is kind of a hodge-podge of certification programs, 2-year Associates degrees, 4-year bachelors degrees, and some graduate level studies as well. At Albion, everyone was a full time student; here, not so many. In fact, I would argue most people are just taking a class or two here and there, picking away at the degree of their choice over time. Maybe that equates to a different atmosphere, a different attitude, about what we're doing here. I just don't know.

I do know that I'm frustrated, and want very much to escape to my car and go home.

All Good Things

2007-10-29T22:31:00.000-04:00

THEATER

Well, the curtain closed on Macbeth this Saturday. I'm going to miss hanging out with those folks...we had a rocking cast party at my house after strike. A good time was had by all, I think. I played my new role in the show as well as I could have hoped, although I thought the first night (Friday) went better than the second. It was a privilege to play it, though, and even more so considering that our dear Mychelle finally got to come and see the show on Saturday! She looks about ready to burst, and I can't wait to hear that little Molly has finally arrived.

And, as usual, now that a show is over, I have developed selective amnesia and have completely forgotten what a colossal time commitment it was--time away from friends, family, and life in general--and I'm looking ahead to what other shows I might want to be in. Whole Art is doing Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and are apparently auditioning for it in December. I wasn't sure anyone would want to cast me, with my two-nights-a-week class commitment, but my buddy Trevor said I might be surprised. So who knows, I might have a go. I may also try out for Little Women (the musical) at the Civic in the spring. This might be a more feasible way to go, since my classes end not too long into the rehearsal process and then I'm off for the entire summer.

POETRY

I've been keeping up with my submissions life lately, sending off to Compass Rose and their Pat Parnell Poetry Prize, and MARGIE's "Strong Rx Medicine" poetry prize as well. I'm still waiting to hear back from several others. I'm hoping that the long waits to hear back indicates some sort of promise, especially for the chapbook competitions....if I'd been weeded out early on in the reviewing process, maybe I would have heard already. Perhaps I'm still in the running!

In the meantime, I'm really working on full-length book ideas and construction. What that really is going to entail is a whole lot of new material. I have ideas floating around in my head, but I'm just not able to staple them down yet. Now that the play's over (assuming I don't dive headlong into another one), I'll be able to devote more time and energy to it.

See, this is the problem when you have too many hobbies that you love, and which both entail great amounts of time and effort.

A Revelation and Proposed Social Experiment

2007-10-23T18:34:00.000-04:00

Last Sunday, I was hanging out in the green room at the Civic shortly after arriving. There's usually no rush to get into makeup or costumes (for one, the costumes are very, very warm), so often we sit out for a few minutes and socialize. I had worn my Super(wo)man t-shirt, one of those babydoll T's that, well, shows off my ampleness, to say the least. I realize this. I also realize that there is really no way of getting around my ampleness, short of wearing a circus tent. They're just there. They're on display 24-7. I've come to terms with it.

What I haven't come to terms with, however, is the seeming necessity of pointing it out. Or pointing them out, I should say. Comments fly left and right, particularly in the theater crowd--known for their perpetually loosened inhibitions. You'd think, after so many years of being involved in theater, music, and drum corps, that I would have become immune to it. But I haven't.

I used to think it was because I was sensitive about them. And maybe, years ago, this was true. Somewhere between the ages of 19 and 21, they exploded into even greater girth than they previously encompassed, which was a feat in and of itself (I've been the "big" girl since probably the early 90's). I became a D cup for the first time. And oh, did I cry. I really did.

I didn't like all the attention they got--I still don't. And the other night, after the comments I received in the green room (and of course laughed about at the time), I figured out why it bothers me so much. It's not that I'm still sensitive about their size or anything--like many other aspects of myself, I've grown into them and come to accept them as one part of a much greater whole. It's the fact that, in common social ettiquette, there is no analogous joking or commenting done on other body parts, male or female, to the person's face.

Example: One does not, in the course of a casual conversation, say, "wow, that's an enormous ass you've got there!"

Other off-limit body parts would include noses, ears, hair, elbows, pinky fingers, and anything else that's usually visible. When these parts are deformed or different in some way, we try not to say anything; we even try not to look at them (and then worriedly wonder if it's obvious that we're not looking, and so we look, and then we try not to look again because we fear we're looking too much). We try not to mention scars or moles or pimples, either. To do otherwise, we fear, would be horribly impolite. You never know who might be sensitive, or what unpleasant story lies behind that scar.

And most of all, one does not mention someone's obesity. To tell someone, to their face, that they are fat might be the worst social sin one could commit.

I have noticed, however, that people have no compunction about discussing my breasts. Something about their double-D glory causes inhibitions to slacken and tongues to wag (bah dum dum). And it doesn't seem anyone gives a passing thought to whether or not I appreciate it, want it, or if it might even hurt my feelings to have it pointed out that my chest size could be measured in relation to a small state. Because you see, I know it, realize it, and accept it; however, I do not want it to be a topic of conversation, any more than someone with goiter would like their goiter discussed in public.

I have noticed one other exception to the don't-talk-about-other-people's-appearances rule: a girlfriend of mine in college was incredibly thin, and she constantly got comments, jabs, jokes, and snide remarks about it. She was not anorexic (believe me, I saw her eat--no problem there), nor was she a workout fanatic. She just was what she was. And I could tell, sometimes, that she was as sensitive about it as I was about my respective physique. Sometimes I thought to be jealous of her for her thinness, but nowadays I realize it's just the other side of a coin. I feel the same way about men and the pressures they experience. So many women claim that men don't have any problems or worries when it comes to society's expectations of how they should look, and I for one find that to be complete bull. The men in my life have admitted to feeling pressure to look a certain way, even it's unrealistic for them to do so: pecs, that triangular torso, biceps....being meaty without being fat....et cetera.

And so: I may have developed a sense of humor and acceptance about my body's natural shape and size, but that doesn't mean I feel it's appropriate as a topic of conversation.

As for the social experiment, I think it would be interesting and enlightening to see what would happen if we all made the comments about each others' appearances that we think and currently don't say. I've often thought the world would be a better place if we all shared the positive things we think about each other and never say. How often have we thought, "I like her sweater" or "His hair looks nice today"? But then we don't say it, either because we're rushing or because we feel uncomfortable for some reason--maybe we don't know them well and we feel we'd be overstepping our relationship, or whatever. So what if we took all the social inhibitions away, and said what we actually thought at all times? Would the world be better--or would it become even more of a crushing existence than it already is? Or maybe, just maybe, we'd learn to think even more deeply before we spoke, voicing not our initial reactions but our completed thought process. For instance, "I like her sweater" could become "I haven't noticed the way she dressed before. Something must be different. I wonder what's happening in her life that might cause her to dress nicely today?" And then we would ask that question, thereby inviting her to share with us and thereby deepen our relationship.

Just sayin'.

THEATER
Update: I've been "promoted," so to speak. The woman playing Lady MacDuff has sort of quit/been removed (a little of both) from the show. Apparently she got a gig elsewhere that interfered with our final weekend of performances. And so they have asked me to step in and take her place. I will simultaneously be playing my original role (thankfully we don't have any scenes together--that would difficult and weird), which will lead to a small case of schizophrenia, but only for a couple of days. I'm excited to take the part, because it's a beautiful, emotionally rich scene (or emotionally magnificent, in the words of Michael Scott). It's too bad things had to work out that way, but hey--now I have a character with a name!

Musings on Friendship

2007-10-21T21:52:00.000-04:00

This week, I had to approach a friend in a way that I really didn't want to....she's an old friend of mine, someone I've known since middle school, and due to some business dealings that we really shouldn't have done anyway (live and learn), she owes me a sum of money. I know that she's had a lot of stuff going on in her life....her son was diagnosed with some serious health problems, and her husband joined the army and will be deployed soon (plus, they had to move out of the state). So I've been really trying to just keep it on the DL and not pressure her, because I know how hard it is to try to deal with other things when so much else is on the table.

This does not, however, change the fact that we were really not well at all financially on this end....this time last year, we were struggling to make ends meet. Much crackers and peanut butter were eaten in lieu of real meals. It's a wonder our credit scores haven't plummeted to lower dimension of existence. Somehow, we managed. But of course, this builds resentment if one doesn't keep it in perspective....the whole "how DARE you take me for granted, after all I kept my mouth shut when I could have used that money to live on" deal.

Thankfully, we're finally re-establishing communications and I think we'll be getting somewhere soon. I'm really excited, most of all, to get our friendship back. I have learned a valuable lesson (although I should have learned it long ago)--friends and money don't mix. It's just a bad idea. That's why I sometimes shake my head at how willingly so many people move in with friends, or significant others. Especially significant others, actually. Until you've actually made the commitment to be together on a more life-long basis, you're still just basically rooming with a friend--and things have the opportunity to go really sour, really fast. That's not to say things can't go sour and get financially messy after you're married--but then at least legally, you have much more obvious recourse (and in fact, obligation). I've found, since being married, that there's just this sense of long-haul mentality that wasn't there before. I mean, it was, but it wasn't. Of course we talked about the future and made plans and all of that....but nowadays, it seems like, since we both have our minds made up to make this work, we just do. Make it work, I mean. In terms of money and everything else, too.

I'm just happy that my friend and I seem to be on the verge of putting this behind us. I feel bad for ever letting it come between us at all, although at the time it seemed like a good thing to do. I should have known better, but that's what life is for: figuring out all the things you should have known better, so that when you're presented with them again, you do know better.

THEATER
During our Sunday matinee show of Macbeth, our trap broke. A very interesting time was had by all. This was during the last scene of the first half, right before intermission....with about four to five burly men on it. It didn't plummet, so it's not like anyone was afraid for their lives, but nevertheless, it made the rest of the scene more complicated. It also meant that, after we were able to push it up to its somewhat normal position and bolster it so it wouldn't sink again, we could no longer use it for the rest of the show. Fortunately, we only had one more scene where it was used, and that was just for a scene change--which we then did by hand instead. More heavy lifting, but that's the price you pay. It's a good thing it should happen to day--rather than, say, Thursday--because we don't have another show till next Friday. Hopefully by then it will be fixed. If not, we'll have some interesting end-of-run blocking changes for some folks.

HEALTH
This weekend wasn't great for my 30 day commitment. However, it was only a couple days all told, and it wasn't as bad as it could have been. This week is going to be so lovely--not having to be at the theater every night means I'll get to cook a couple meals! Real food! And time for working out as well. Today, Ryan and I took a bike ride together on the Portage Bicentennial Trail--we probably did about 8 miles, all told, if you include the biking we had to do to get to the head of the trail and back. It felt so wonderful to be out in the open air on what may be one of the last mild, temperate days of the year. It felt so ennervating, the wind rushing against my face and my body moving constantly. It made me think about the difference between exhaustion and tiredness....to me, of late, exhaustion has been a mental/emotional state of being, that feeling where you simply cannot endure thought. You sleep for escape, not rejuvenation; generally, you wake up feeling not a whole lot better than you did when you went to bed, except that your body needs a fresh shot of caffeine. On the other hand, tiredness is the result of actual physical exertion....the glorious feeling of having done something, having used all your muscles and tendons and various parts to accomplish something, and now they all need their rest. I know I'm going to tumble into bed tonight feeling so much more grateful for sleep than I have in a long while.

Insert Clever Title Here

2007-10-17T17:21:00.000-04:00

POETRY
Last week I picked up a copy of Adam Clay's The Wash. I haven't finished it yet, but I'm intrigued. He's a local poet, and apparently this is his first book. There is something odd and clamorous about his writing...strange images, dreamlike but not always in a sweet, sentimental way...strange ways to punctuate and capitalize. Images of Lisa Chavez, my old undergrad poetry prof, danced in my head--she never was one for postmodern weirdness. Myself, I don't gravitate towards it, but when done well, it certainly gives me pause. Next time I post, I'll have more thoughts about it. After all, a book with a dead bird on the cover is certainly intriguing.

HEALTH
I began another 30 day-committment today. I'm tired of going nowhere with my health (particularly in the category of weight loss), so I'm punching it up a notch. Now that the play is almost over, it will be much easier to feel in control of my life. And certainly no more fast food. Ugh, I forgot how that stuff sits at the bottom of your stomach like cement.

I also signed up for a program called PUSH this month. For $25 a month, you get hooked up with a world-class trainer who makes DVD workouts for you monthly, based on your specifications. In the beginning, you give them all kinds of information about your current fitness level, your preferences for exercise, any old injuries you may have, and what workout equipment you already have in your home that you could use. Then they make it for you. It's pretty sweet, actually, although I'm struggling with using it. The timing, for one, was not good--I haven't seen my house by daylight in weeks, and one is not inclined to do cardio at 11:00 p.m. after being on the go all day (especially when one knows that an identical day is in store tomorrow). So I haven't given it my all so far this month, although this week I'm trying to. On your DVD, you get 2 training sessions with the trainer of your choice (mine is Bob Harper, otherwise known as Trainer Bob on The Biggest Loser), a cardio workout, and an "area of focus" workout, which you specify for them each month--abs, legs, arms, etc. I'm loving the cardio--I chose kickboxing this month, and it's awesome. I'm having a hard time mentally adapting to the training sessions, though. They're simple exercises, done with various pieces of equipment, and right now it feels like it's just not enough to make a difference. Although, honestly, you're talking to a girl who is used to The Firm and all its hardcore, kick-butt glory. I've got to find some kind of middle ground.

I also have seven more papers to grade. *sigh*

Blogging More Regularly--A Challenge

2007-10-16T19:59:00.000-04:00

Some of you (you know, all two who read this) may have noticed my lapse in posting for the last several months. I apologize for the absenteeism and vow to make it up to you by attempting to post at least once a day for 30 days. I'm at a point in my life right now where I really feel I need to be journaling daily, for my sanity's sake, and this is a fine place to do it.

WORK
This is something that's been both a blessing and a curse for me lately. I started full time teaching at the Holland location of Davenport University--definitely a blessing! The pay, the benefits, and the joy of having "a room of one's own"--an office with a door--are all fantastic. I do miss working in Grand Rapids with Joe, but Diana is awesome and we've found we have a great deal in common.

It's an interesting switch for me in terms of the demographic of students I teach. I'm used to the older, "non-traditional" student--which again, could be positive or negative, depending on the individual (of course, the same could probably be said of anyone). The older students tended to be more focused and mature, although at times it was a struggle because their skills were so far behind, and their discomfort with being back in school after so long was tough to deal with. Additionally, they sometimes seemed to look down on me, at least at first, because they did not expect me to be so young. I'd like to think I proved myself capable to them--we got along, at any rate, by the end.

Now I teach students that are more "traditional"--average college age, late teens to early twenties, and while I appreciate that they are still in "school" mode for the most part, they come with their own set of difficulties. Lately I've had troubles with students who are young and aggressive--openly questioning or even criticizing me. Confrontational people have always been a sticking point for me in terms of how to deal, and it doesn't feel good to be in a position of authority and have my charges be rude. At least if this was high school, I could suspend them or something. I'm not really sure about my recourse right now--still working on it.

It makes me reassess the old notion of "turn the other cheek"--something I never fully understood. I do get it on some level--that some things just aren't worth fighting about. Someone you don't know gives you the finger? Who cares? But on the other hand, there may also be merit to calling a spade a spade, and standing up for oneself. But what do in this situation? Being the softy I am, I'm inclined to pull people aside and ask them to talk about their feelings. I'm not sure if that would work here, necessarily, but on the other hand, maybe that's exactly what they need from someone who's in charge of even one little fraction of their lives. Maybe no one has ever approached them in that way.

I have noticed that some students' outwardly mulish behavior sometimes masks an inward shame or fear of inadequacy. I had a student who, on one occasion when it was only us and a couple of other students in the room, openly expressed his dislike for the class (basic comp.) and his desire that it would just be over soon. I made a pithy joke about being wounded, and we all laughed, but afterwards I took him aside and asked him what was wrong. He said he was frustrated; he didn't feel like he knew how to write well, how to put his thoughts on paper. It made me think of my own frustrations when I don't comprehend something--as someone who feels pretty competent in most areas of life, it's a really issue for me when I set about to do something and find myself unable to do it successfully. I mean, it REALLY bothers me. So why shouldn't it bother someone else just as much? We all like to think we're capable and intelligent, and we all have a tendency at times to equate that capability and intelligence with performance--therefore, when something isn't going according to plan, we feel like our very selves are being challenged. The problem is, I don't think a lot of people make the leap between feeling the frustration and properly identifying and dealing with it. Blame is so much quicker, so much more efficient, than examining the self and changing approaches or habits. So we blame teachers, we even blame whole subjects ("I hate English!"). But oh, how that holds us back.

So I'm loving the new job, and yet am very challenged by it (et tu, me?). I'll keep you updated. Interestingly enough, when the young man in question vocalized his frustration, I told him that his work was certainly good as a foundation, and just needed refinement--which is true. He didn't look like he quite believed me, but since then, he's been a lot more engaged in class, and hasn't made any more negative comments. Hm.

THEATER
Macbeth opened last weekend, and continues into the last weekend of October. We got a nasty review in the Gazette (and no, I'm not giving you the link), but honestly, I think the lady was mistaken in her assessment. We've put on a great show, and not without our share of obstacles. Our director, the luminous Mychelle Hopkins, has been on bed rest with her pregnancy since before we began rehearsing, so Zac Thompson (also luminous, in a manly way), has stepped in as Assistant Director, as well as playing his role as MacDuff. We also lost our Banquo a couple weeks before opening, although fortunately our fight director stepped in without missing a beat. Our set's gorgeous, our fight choreography is thrilling, and even the critic herself said we're "very emotionally committed to [our] roles." God, I love Shakespeare! It feels good on my tongue; I love its rhythms, its sound play.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
creeps in this petty pace from day to day
to the last syllable of recorded time,
and all our yesterdays have lighted fools
the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle;
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
who struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more. It is a tale
told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.

Haunting, absolutely haunting. I have the honor of being on the stage with Max Hardy when he delivers this soliloquy (which is not, technically, a soliloquy, as he's sharing the stage with several other people) and, if I were not already crying as part of my character, I bet it would make me cry anyway. Max has done a stellar job as Macbeth, and as someone pointed out in our audience talk-back session last weekend, delivering this soliloquy as something that combines remorse, grief, anger, blame, and nihilism, rather than its usual existential stateliness, gives it new life. And speaking of tears: MacDuff's scene in Act IV, when he learns of his family's slaughter. Zac's delivery is flawless. I can't see it, because I'm backstage waiting for my entrance, but even hearing it moves me. I hear the thud as he hits his knees in anguish, and that's all it takes.

As usual, when a play begins its final lap, I'm exhausted and overstimulated, but I find that I never, ever regret participating. Even with all the time it consumes, which is time away from my husband, from other social functions, and from just quiet time with myself--it's always worth it. But I've committed to really focusing on auditioning for shows that I absolutely love and want to be a part of--shows that will allow me to grow and change as an actor.

WRITING
Speaking of theater taking time away from things--I haven't been writing as much as I've intended lately, although I did create a calendar for myself with all the things I want to submit my writing to. Hopefully this will keep me on task--having deadlines and so forth. I have so many projects tumbling around in my head--long ones, short ones, even multimedia ones. Those who attended the New England College MFA program with me will recognize my preoccupation with Grass Lake, MI--home of Ryan's grandfather's farm. It's been a sad six years that I've watched what was a rolling hillside of farm land slowly become paved and lit with fluorescent lighting. Ryan's taken pictures at almost every available opportunity, and so we can even see how it changes from time to time. It'd be neat to have this almost egfrastic poetry collection about it, or just one poem that's sectioned.

The Essay Dance

2007-04-17T20:38:00.000-04:00

Today was the final exam for one of my favorite classes. I've taught sections of ENGL020/021 before, but this group had a little something special. They were responsive and fun to be around, which makes my job as a teacher just that much more fulfilling. Plus, they all seemed to grasp the material (even better).

Part of my final exams is a self-evaluation--just a brief, introspective set of questions asking them what they got out of the course, how much do they feel they've improved, what they felt was most important that they're taking away from the class, and what they wish would have been different. These help me as a teacher, but help them, too. And one of my students wrote, "I'll never forget the essay dance!"

This will clue you in to what kind of teacher I am--i.e. a little on the odd side. But I think that's what it takes, sometimes, when you're teaching a subject that is not necessarily popular with the crowd you're supposed to be teaching. These students are here to become medical assistants and accountants; not write essays for the rest of their lives (as I point out to them, only nerds like me do that). The Essay Dance is a sort of spontaneous thing that happened in class one night early on, as I was trying to explain the proper organization of an essay and how it should wrap up lightly with each paragraph before going on to the next, and then wrap up as a whole in the conclusion. Unconsciously, I began doing a sort of hula while explaining this (perhaps my inner self thought they needed a visual). And thus the Essay Dance was born. And hey, if it helps them remember that tidbit of information, so be it. Let's Essay-Dance the night away.

Coming into my own as a teacher....

2007-03-08T20:11:00.000-05:00

This month marks my fifth month as an adjunct professor of English at Davenport University. Five months....it feels like it's flown by. We just began our Winter II term, which marked the addition of two more classes for me (Davenport works on a system in which students can take full 15-week terms--i.e. "Winter term"--or accelerated 7-week courses--i.e. "Winter I" or "Winter II." I already had a full-term class continuing for the Winter term, but now I also have two Winter II classes. This also marks the third time I've taught a PLATO-based English 020/021 course, and I really feel like I've hit my stride. I know what I'm doing, I know what I'm teaching, I know how to engage the students and make it feel worthwhile.

The interesting thing I'm noting is that this third PLATO class is also my first night class at this location. I've taught a night class at the Battle Creek campus before, but that place has a totally different demographic to begin with than here in Grand Rapids. Because this class now is a night class, I'm seeing a totally different group of people than I usually see during the day. They're a bit older, for one, and for some reason much more talkative and interactive with me when I'm up front teaching. They respond to questions more quickly and more confidently, and it seems like they're really grasping the information (and letting me know that they are). I don't know what makes the difference, but it's enjoyable for me.

Teaching is enjoyable. I really don't think I've ever had a better, more rewarding (and challenging) job. I never thought I would like it this much. I remember when I was younger, and I told people I was an English major, I always used to get offended when the first question out of anyone's mouth was, "So are you going to teach, then?" I felt very high and mighty about my poetry and my creativity, and I thought teaching would dampen it. Au contraire. Teaching requires every bit of creativity and ingenuity I have. How can you make sentence structure interesting? How can you make a game out of editing an essay? How can you make this relevant to someone who's going to school to be an accountant or a phlebotomy tech?

It was like a little feather in my cap when, at the end of the Winter I term, one of my basic composition students said to me, during a class discussion, that she'd realized she could apply what she was learning in this class to all of her other clasess, even though they weren't specifically related to English or writing. It was my crowning achievement, to see that light bulb go on.

And today I was thinking back to how this may have been foreshadowed in my life....because I now see that I was very drawn to teaching all along, in different ways. I loved teching for colorguards (especially when I got to write some of the choreography), and in Mary Kay, I loved it when I was offered the position to teach some of the trainings. I felt like I was really impacting people, and that together we were all benefitting from it.

On a different note, I have been spending quite a lot of time on my yoga and working on my Law of Attraction practice. I really can't believe the difference they've made in my life--the yoga particularly so far. I'm delving into Anusara and it resonates with me. Without sounding particularly self-destructive, I want to say that it makes me feel really beautiful when I practice it. Which is not to say I don't feel I'm beautiful at other times--it's just that when I'm putting my body into a pose, I feel so graceful and lithe and light on my feet, so a part of the universe at that moment, that I can't help but feel beautiful. I like to see myself in mirrors or windows, see the shapes my body is making, and it's like all the parts of myself, of my physical appearance, that I don't like--they fade, I don't see them anymore. And the more I do it, the longer this emotional sensation lasts, so even when I'm not specifically practicing, I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror or what not, and I find myself smiling at what I see, rather than frowning at my chub or trying to rearrange it to see what I'd look like if it weren't there (yes, I've done this!).

Yoga is teaching me to love my body, as is. To marvel at its abilities and honor its limitations. To be thankful for it.

And gratitude has to be one of the most powerful forces in the universe.

2006 in Review: Part 2

2007-01-06T11:10:00.000-05:00

Personal

I spent a lot of time this year wrestling with the concept of identity. How do we form our identity? What influences us? And in the creation of identity, are we inevitably being exclusive? (I am not this, I am not that) Honestly, human beings are such relative entities--we seem only to exist in relation to what's around us. We define ourselves and others only through comparison and contrast. It's innate in our language and in our thought processes. And as Foucault pointed out, whenever you create binaries of identity, there will undoubtedly be "privileged" and "not privileged." How do we create ourselves in a way that is wholly independent? And is that even possible?

I say all this because my identity has been in a flux this year. Who am I socially, economically, politically, and in terms of career? I have a tendency to compare myself to others a lot, which usually winds up with me on the losing/lacking end of the comparison. I admire many people, but with that admiration usually comes self-doubt and wishing I could actually be them, rather than allowing their light to shine and my own, equally. And in such a field as poetry and academia, to which I am applying myself, this can be disastrous. The field is inherently not level--the "old boys" are still alive and strong--and the whole thing is based on who likes your work....which can be as fickle and unpredictable as mood. What I've concluded, and only very recently, is that the bottom line is that it really is a bunch of malarkey, publishing and credentials....not that I shouldn't try, because of course I will, but I mustn't let it rule me or my opinion of myself and my craft. The drive is simply to keep creating, keep revising, keep improving--and the rest will happen naturally, in its own time.

Because if I can say one thing about myself that is true and not related to anyone else--I am always seeking to improve. I set the bar high for myself, and when I reach it, I set it again. The key is not to set the bar in such a way that my ability to reach it is dependent on anyone else's actions or opinions.

In more mundane, less philosophical events, my father got a total knee replacement in February. I do not wish that procedure on anyone. Recovery is so slow and painful....and with his other health issues complicating the matter, it was a difficult time for us all. My mother has been spent to her last drop of endurance dealing with his care, as well as for my grandmother (her mother) who had a fall in her home over the summer and needed to be moved into a senior living apartment complex--only to have a massive stroke in November, which landed her in assisted living. My grandma is as well, if not better, as can be expected, but the toll has been great on my mother's sanity. She's the legal contact for grandma's estate and affairs, and has been mostly in charge of all these operations. Her relationship with her sisters has always been strained, to put it kindly, and this whole series of events really cast that into relief. I got really angry at my extended family at times this year. I wish I knew how to resolve it, even just enough that we can all work together to take some of the strain off my mom. My aunt Joan, the eldest of the three sisters, has been a blessing and relations between she and my mother are actually improving....Joan's reliable and always willing to help, which is really all we need at this point. Even when personalities don't really jive, it's good to know that everyone cares about what's happening and wants to do his or her part.

Throughout all of this, Ryan has been my comfort and my anchor. I feel it's a mark of his character and the strength of our relationship that when everything is falling apart around us, we remain together, on the same page, and turn to each other for support rather than pushing each other away. When two people mutually lean on the other with equal force, no one falls down.

We're hoping, in the coming year, to take some life-steps forward, such as buying a house and maybe, just maybe, turning our little family of two into a family of three. It's exciting to think those things could really happen.

Political

My political convictions grew as strong as ever this year. Michigan faced a gubernatorial race that was fearsome and at times ugly, but we came out on the other side of it, I think, better than we were before. I was beginning to think that Michigan, and this country, was losing its marbles (see my previous blog, "Yay, I Don't Live in Crazy Land") with all the right-wing conservatives blasting their egos like bugles across the political and social landscape. But not only did the incumbent Democrat keep her place as governor, an unprecedented sweep of Republican-ousting took the nation on local, state, and national levels. It was like hoping for a quarter under your pillow from the tooth fairy, and getting twenty bucks instead. Unfortunately we still have Jack Hoogendyk (R-Kalamazoo) as our state rep here, but it was comforting to know that he only won by a margin of just over 400 votes. One more election could finish him off and we could be rid of him for good (his platform, in case you were wondering, was succinctly publicized in a local voter's guide during the primary elections, in which he announced that his plan to balance the state budget would include cutting funds for libraries, places of historic significance such as museums, and the arts--because, and I'm quoting as best as I can from memory, "we shouldn't give state funding to pornography.").

So now we have a swing back towards the center. A response to an ever-escalating, fool's errand of a war? A realization that we need to be compassionate to our fellow human beings, regardless of their race, gender, sexual orientation, or religious beliefs, rather than employing the popular "every man for himself, and screw the little guy" technique of social justice? A desire to draw attention back to the problems we face in our own country, in our own states, in our own backyards--rather than displacing our fears and frustrations onto other outside forces? A wake-up call to the fact that our President and his administration are becoming more and more autocratic and less and less democratic? Who knows. I'm just glad it happened.

Travel

As usual, I spent time in New England--ahh, Henniker!--for my NEC residencies. I also went up for a long weekend in September to Mackinac Island with Sara. We participated in their annual walk around the island (about 8-9 miles) and sight-saw. It's so beautiful up there. I feel happy every time I see it.

Ryan and I also vacationed briefly in Holland, MI and Chicago. His family has something of a tradition to spent time in Holland in the summers, and afterwards we went to Chicago for a wedding.

I wish we could have gotten around more, but I have plans to go back to Dublin this fall; plus, Stefanie and Laura and I are hoping to do some kind of girly excursion in the near future. Who knows where we'll go?

Year In Review

2006-12-29T12:50:00.000-05:00

In the style of my friend Jamelah, I am going to be writing a 2006 Year In Review series of blogs. I say "series" because I may not finish it right away. Plus I have a lot to say.

2006 in General

It wasn't an easy year. The last half in particular was difficult. Mary Kay fell apart a little bit, and then on top of the feelings of guilt, disappointment, and sense of failure, we had the more immediate financial concerns to deal with. Michigan's economy is moving slower than a hibernating turtle, so jobs are few and far between. Also, I am not qualified to drive a truck or be in the medical field.

Career

As I mentioned, this was a turbulent part of my life. I spent the first six months of this year working MK to the point of absurdity, only to have it all fall through on June 30. Then came 2-3 months of having NO job at all, and that was really tough. I got a part-time job at Barstools & More (can we say, overqualified?) and another one at Phoenix Community Church (semi-overqualified, but it's okay). Then, the glorious day came when I found an ad online for an adjunct professor of English at Davenport University. This is, of course, the line of work I ultimately wanted to go into, and it seemed the perfect jumping-off point. I submitted my resume at about 8:00 a.m., and was hired roughly by 10:00. Hoorah! And since then, my working life has improved considerably. I put my notice in at BS&M, so I'll no longer be working for them after the first of the year. It's nothing personal....I really did grow to like the people there and the work's not hard or anything (plus I got to play with power tools occasionally). But the compensation, while appropriate, was not what I needed, and felt, well, not worth my time. It's hard to sweep backroom floors when you're weeks away from having a Master's degree.

I am learning that teaching is a wonderful profession, especially at the college level. Hard work, lots of planning, but it pays off. For once, I feel like I'm finally where I should be.

Finances

Well, this was probably the least pleasant part of the year. With MK not paying off in the end, and those few months when I didn't have ANY income to speak of, it wasn't easy. And while I'd love to say we're out of the woods now that I work at Davenport, sadly it will take awhile for things to improve to the point that we feel comfortable. We have some plans in the works that might help, though.

Okay, stay tuned....more to come.

Review: Patrick Rosal's My American Kundiman

2006-12-18T12:30:00.000-05:00

Current critical thought encourages us to consider poetry as an autonomous creation, separate from its creator; the poet’s background should be kept out of the evaluation of the poem. However, I argue that a poet’s biography is not only relevant, but necessary to grasp a fuller understanding of his or her work. The kundiman is a tradition of Filipino descent, and as such must not be overlooked in favor of a more “poetless” reading. It is also essential to this collection of poetry, which indicates immediately through the title that we are dealing with deeply entrenched cultural identity which, just as it is to the poet himself, is irremovable from the work.

My American Kundiman is a solid second book from Rosal, whose first collection, Uprock Headspin Scramble and Dive, received positive reviews for its musicality and drive. Thomas Lux called it “[An] astonishing first collection by a young poet of immense gifts” and it was the winner of the 2002 Members’ Choice Award from the Asian American Writers Workshop. Kundiman follows well in its predecessor’s footsteps, equaling it in rhythm and sound play, and surpassing it in emotionality and depth.

Rosal opens his book with a brief historical note on the kundiman, identifying it as a traditional Filipino song of unrequited love. He writes, “The kundiman was a coded desire, a manifest longing in song, a beloved poetic subversion composed and sung in a time when overt expressions of love for the Philippines were looked down upon, if not completely prohibited by the nation’s occupiers.” This definition stays with the reader throughout the entire body of poetry—the idea of an emotion that encompasses love, longing, and even mourning. It is not sung to a specific individual, but to the larger concepts of country and heritage.

Rosal weaves future, present, and past together artfully to make his “kundiman” to all aspects of his personal chronology: his identity as a Filipino and as an American, as well as pondering what the future will hold for him and his loved ones as immigrants. It is interesting to note, then, that My American Kundiman both opens and closes with a poem dedicated to or written about the poet’s family members. “Meditations on the Eve of My Niece’s Birth” leads us into not only birth—
the beginning of life—but also the expectancy that goes with it. Rosal writes:

Who sow buckshot glitter from Cape May to Arthur Kill
Who weave rush-hour Kyrie from lanes of masonry
and steel Who stammer boldface gospel on Newark
subway steam What rot feed one man Who record
his rasp Who transcribe his song Who unknot his
gut What spectral redshift beacons ancient
boogie-on-down What heats the heart’s
enthalpic pth Who stop the clock—
submit to speed of light When
have I listened—child—How
will I begin When shall I
open my mouth
and let half
the world
fall in (3)

Questions such as “how will I begin” and “when shall I open my mouth” point our thoughts toward the future, toward things yet to come. This is appropriate, given that the title of the poem intimates a new birth in the poet/speaker’s family. The questions posed at the end of this poem are then answered the final poem of the collection, “Photo of My Grandmother Running Toward Us on a Beach in Ilokos”:

Consider how happy she is
carrying the whole load of an ocean

on her head the way some women carry
water or fruits or fish My Lola

and the whole goddamned ocean
Tides Whalebone Reef And my dark

dark cousins stomping through the breakers
She is closing her eyes running

toward her American grandchildren
who wait for her on the shore

She is sopping wet trying to balance
an entire sea on her head Her arms are

flung wide open And she laughs
as if she were asking us

to bring our burdens too (65)

While the above poem indicates a time and place that are in the past—however recent, we do not know—it, too, connects to and emphasizes the overarching chronology that defines the book. Although ostensibly it appears that Rosal is addressing his timeline in reverse, going from contemplation of the future to reminiscing about the past, I hold that to be only a half-truth. On one level, yes; it is a reflection upon the poet/speaker’s grandmother at an earlier time. This roots the poem in the past. However, Rosal’s choice of ending in “Photo of My Grandmother Running Toward Us On a Beach in Ikonos” also indicates a sense of future potential, as well as tying in the family’s leap from the Philippines to American life and culture.

If we can say that the book begins in the future and ends in the past, the second section of the book is the present. The poem that begins the second section, “Kundiman In Medias Res,” itself embodies being present in the moment. The title and first lines of the poem indicate a “beginning in the middle”—neither at the very beginning, nor at the end of a process.

and I like sometimes to begin
in the middle of things
your breastbone/navel
the small of your back
your hand’s syntax pausing
at the comma of my thumb
I love your 700 questions
each strand curled long
across my lips the sudden
punctuation of your spine
Your mouth an interrogative
sliding from unknown
to unknown They say
one sign leads to another
I say each tastes vaguely
like blood Along my body’s
broken lines I am still unwritten
by your fingers’ calligraphy

Love—decipher me
Speak me with your first tongue (29)

This poem speaks with intricate double entendres and word play about the poet/speaker’s thoughts on his heritage and where he stands now, with one foot in American and one in the Philippines. The sexual and romantic language embodies the essence of the kundiman—a sense of love and longing that reaches beyond the physical yearning for an unnamed, indirect female character, but also for connection and self-knowledge. Images such as a “mouth…sliding from unknown to unknown,” the taste of blood, and the desire to be “deciphered” and spoken to in someone’s “first tongue” all deftly entwine sexual innuendo and deep longing for the poet/speaker’s roots.

However, the poet/speaker’s relationship with his own Filipino heritage is not the only thing at stake in this collection of poetry. As the title of the book implies, Rosal aims to create a connection between his past—and the collective past of his family, as immigrants—and his future in America. Inevitably, then, the subject of racial must then come up, as it does most in the third section. Many poems in that section relate the poet/speaker’s struggles and ponderings with his own ethnicity, and “outsider” status in America, the most emotionally and stylistically significant of which is “For My Childhood Friend Derek who First Told Me I Could Call Him Nigger”:

I don’t know when

the white kids in our neighborhood got permission to use it
or how they figured it was safe for them to say around me—for I wasn’t

one: Not dark enough—I mean—to scare their mothers yet not cracker
enough to date their sisters Know this: I didn’t think of you as black

until the day you said I could call you nigger You meant to say we were
brothers So know this too: Since that day I have shouted this word inward

and let it echo throughout the dim continent of my skull I have split it open
with my bare hands like a plum and sucked its purple juice from my thumbs

I have cut it up into eleven pieces rigged its razored gears fermented it
in my spleen to gin and razed whole fields with it by blaze What shouldn’t

a yellow boy like me know about a noun doused in 500 years of burning
What could I do when you poured its fire into my palms and said Take this

Drink And when did I learn to say it proud as a white boy How did I put it then
to my lips How easy to love the turn of a single word’s blade cutting

every which way at once (44)

What is most intriguing about this poem is its ability to connect not only one, but three different ethnic groups through the use of a single word. “Nigger” is, of course, a derogatory term for an African-American, but also a word used by that group of people that indicates a sort of brotherhood and camaraderie. In “For My Childhood Friend,” Rosal relates that this word was used in his childhood by “white kids” as well as African-Americans, and is in turn given to the poet/speaker by his friend like a gift. Independently, the poet/speaker is wholly separate from his peers: “…for I wasn’t / one: Dark enough—I mean—to scare their mothers yet not cracker / enough to date their sisters” (lines 3-5). However, after the childhood friend gives the poet/speaker permission to call him “nigger,” his entire worldview is changed. He is included in a group of people, rather than being an outsider—although he knows that with that inclusion comes the history of oppression that accompanies the use of the word, its inherent destructiveness.

Stylistically, this poem stands out from the rest because it at once allows and defies grammatical and structural norms effortlessly. Without lineation, the poem would read as a piece of well-crafted prose; however, choosing to break the sentences into lines lends it rhythm and pacing that would be lost otherwise. Additionally, here, as in other instances throughout the book, Rosal uses only capitalization to indicate where one sentence ends and a new one begins. This allows for more internal flow—a continuation of thought, rather than a stopping and starting—as well as not creating a visual mess upon the page with scattered fragments of lines here and there. Both of these techniques are effective in pacing and rhythmic control, which enhance the reading of the poem both visually and aurally.

Writing a poem of this caliber about racial identity could not be accomplished by someone who has not experienced the awkwardness of living amongst those of a different ethnic or racial background. This is but one example I cite as to the necessity of not disregarding a poet’s background in the evaluation of their work. Rosal’s experiences as an Asian American man in this country undoubtedly inform his poetry, and his unique and skilled craft choices sculpt those experiences into a true kundiman for past, present, and future.

My First Evaluation; or, Etude in Apprehension

2006-12-04T12:30:00.000-05:00

Today I walked into the faculty area at school where they keep our mailboxes. I love getting mail; it makes me feel like I'm part of some cool faculty club. I like seeing my name next to a little slot where people can put anything from Secret Santa flyers to contracts to students' papers, dropped off on a day I'm not here. It just kind of makes me feel important.

Today, however, was probably the most important piece of mail I've ever received since I started here: a large envelope filled with student evaluation forms. You remember....the ones we filled out all the time when we were in college. Your opportunity to wail and gnash your teeth at the gods-that-be and tell them what a rotten time you've had in this class or that....or a chance to say what a cool teacher so-and-so is and how they should never, ever be fired under any circumstances. I once used an evaluation--throwing anonymity to the wind--to tell my chamber choir director never to make me sing second alto again (FYI, I'm a mezzo soprano).

So now I have this stack of blank evaluation forms that I have to give to my class. I'm supposed to do it this week at some point; I think I'll hand them out on Wednesday since attendance is kind of low today, and also because it will give me time to center myself and prepare for whatever they may say. Not that I'll ever read them....but I'm sure I'll be given an overview at some point. I pray the students are kind and say nice things about me. I've already got 3 classes to teach in January and that's not changing as far as I know, but it still makes me very nervous. Joe, my boss, has put a lot of faith in me. I don't want to let him down. Especially when I feel like I've had a great time here so far, and every day I get new ideas to use in this class or future ones. I really think I was meant to do this.

And crap, I just remembered I need to put together lesson plans for January, when I'll be in New Hampshire. I'll be having someone sub for me for the days that I'm gone. One more thing I have to get on top of, like, yesterday.

It's Weird Being Asked What You Think

2006-11-27T14:09:00.000-05:00

So I'm writing a book review right now on Patrick Rosal's new book, My American Kundiman. This is a requirement of the fourth semester at NEC, but it's also something I wanted to do. I enjoy critical writing (to the point where other students give me funny looks), and book reviews can be published in journals--so more material for me to put out there. I chose Rosal's book because it's new; it was only released Nov. 1. I figure the world doesn't need another essay on Whitman, but I admire Rosal's work and think it should receive critical attention.

Anyway, the weirdest part about writing a book review is what separates reviews from other forms of critical writing. In a review, you're asked what you think. As opposed to what you can prove. I mean, of course you should back up your opinion with citations from the book in order to make yourself credible, but you're allowed to write bad reviews, where critical papers are really not so much with the opinions and more about applying some kind of theory and dissecting the poem or book to see how it holds up. And while I agree with Alicia Ostriker's statement in Dancing at the Devil's Party that theory does tend to get in the way of honest response, it's fun to play ninth-grade biology with poems and pick them apart.

But now I'm asked simply for an opinion, and I'm struggling.

QUESTIONER: What do you think of this book?

ME: Umm....post-modern?

QUESTIONER: That's not an opinion.

ME: I feel it's post-modern?

So now I must take myself back to where you just read a poem, or a book of poems, with the idea of really enjoying the thing, rather than with the eye of literary criticism. Perhaps this is a good lesson for me.

In other news, saw The Fountain this weekend with Ryan. Interesting movie, although I'm not sure exactly what its point was. It felt like an example of one of those things where you can stylize the crap out of something and be all artsy-fartsy, but in the end you're left with vacancy. Also, it creates confusion if the stylizing is not done well--particularly when you muck about with chronological leaps that are also supposed maintain connections between two or three seemingly disparate storylines. And I say "two or three" in this case because I'm not entirely sure which stories being told in this movie were fictional, and which were supposed to be grounded in reality. It did spurn at least an hour or two of discussion between Ryan and myself, over the span of a couple of days after we saw it. And that, I suppose, is worth the $2.50 we paid per ticket to see it.

What Sort of Animal Do I Remind You Of?

2006-11-16T11:04:00.000-05:00

Love to the Betts who so kindly posted about me on her blog (I will repost that later, as it is written I should), but her words lit a fire under me. Or in me. One of the two.

I know that I have a tendency to balance out whoever I'm with, personality-wise. I get shyer around bolder people, and vice versa. I don't know why this is....maybe my neverending, somewhat pathetic desire to not cause conflict. I'll just be what they're not, I'll be yin if they're yang, and we'll all be happy.

Not so much anymore.

I don't want to be thought of as a lamb (bless you Betts--I know you love me and meant nothing by it, but I gotta say). I respect my friend who said this SO MUCH, and she is such a strong, powerful woman. I say enough of balancing. I know that I'm strong too, and I want everyone else to see it.

Which is not to say that I won't be vulnerable. There's just no way around that. I yam what I yam. But I don't always show who/what I am, especially around folks that are already showing it. I've got to fight for what I want. And here's what I want:

1. I want to publish a book. More would be better.

2. I want a tenure-track teaching position at a good college or university.

3. I want to be well-known and respected in the field.

and it's interesting that she should write this now, as I realized in my own writing that who I really am was not showing through in my work. I then went ahead to write "The Deepening" which will be appearing in my manuscript. A delving into myself, a digging myself out of hiding.

A lamb I may be. But I'm a lamb with teeth.

Yay, I Don't Live In Crazy Land!

2006-11-08T12:18:00.000-05:00

In recent years, I have grown to be a very politically-minded person. As a younger woman, I did not get involved in politics at all. I hated them. I thought they were boring at best, and scandalous at worst. By younger, I mean college-aged....basically old enough to vote and participate civically, but not old enough to really have a grasp on how political issues and candidates would affect my life. I had a close friend at the time who was very politically involved, and chastized me regularly for my lack of participation. It then began to be a game of spite--which is honestly not something I usually do, but it was provoked--and I would refuse to vote or otherwise exercise my civic duties, just to get his dander up.

Now I'm older, and for the most part wiser, and I see the importance of being involved, of knowing your candidates and how they will or will not represent your wishes and beliefs. Obviously it's wishful thinking to imagine that you'll be represented thoroughly....that one candidate is going to think just the way you do on all issues...but you can hope for the best. And you can learn all you can about everyone who's running, to make sure you vote the way you mean to.

And this morning, I awoke to the sweet feeling that the world had not gone insane, and that Jennifer Granholm was still my governor. Do I know her personally? Or Dick DeVos, for that matter? No. But I know I'd rather cast my lot with her than with him. And not because she's a Democrat, even though I do tend to lean that way. I feared for her re-election, because she couldn't compete with DeVos in terms of campaign finance. She had very little to run that campaign on, and even with all his millions, DeVos couldn't touch her. That's a comforting thought as I think about the political arena in Michigan. We're war-torn and weary (and the war's not just in Iraq, folks), but at least we can spot a weasel when we see one. And we don't elect him into office.

All is right with the world. Except for Jack Hoogendyke, but like I said, that's wishful thinking. ;)

NaNoWriMo

2006-11-03T13:38:00.000-05:00

Very Interesting Re: GOP Privacy Policies

2006-09-05T22:42:00.000-04:00

A strange and interesting thing has happened to me. Today, I logged into my Yahoo account--this is the email I frequently give to any place that I worry may use my information by way of selling it to third parties and hence I will get spammed until my eyeballs explode. I do check it from time to time, to keep it active and make sure nothing good is getting mixed in with the spam.

And today, an interesting sight greeted me when I opened my inbox. Two, actually, but the second being of far broader scope. The first, incidentally, was that somehow I have apparently been signed up for Dick DeVos's campaign email distribution list. How that happened, I will never know, but it certainly doesn't seem beyond him to purchase that information from anyone he can. Secondly, it seems I am also signed up for the national Republican email list.

You will understandably nod when I say that I scoffed, grunted, rolled my eyes, perhaps uttered a vulgarity or two, and proceeded to unsubscribe myself (a measure not really necessary since it is my spam account, and emails from them would be deleted like everything else--it's just the principle of the thing). When taken to the Republican National Committee website to unsubcribe--and after unceremoniously doing so--out of sheer morbid curiosity, I clicked on their Privacy Policy.

This is a very lengthy document, of course, but let me cut and paste one of the finer points here (for your reference, the link to this website is hotspotted with the title of this blog entry):

QUOTE: What information is being collected at GOP.com?

The only personal information collected is information you give us: In our effort to grow our Republican grassroots community online, the RNC may at times ask you to submit information – such as your name, address, phone number and email address – in an effort to provide you the information you want in a more timely manner. If you choose not to give us any information, we may not be able to provide you with the most timely information pertaining to: online events, personal appearances, TV appearances, talking points, activists alerts and other Republican related information.

...

How is the information collected at GOP.com used?

We will not sell your personal information. Under no circumstances will the RNC sell your information to third parties or any commercial entities. END QUOTE.

Well. I feel secure. Knowing that they won't sell my name, email address, or other information to third parties makes me feel so safe. Knowing that they'll eagerly buy it from someone--as clearly they must have, given that I have never, before this day, EVER visited a Republican-party-based website; nor have I given them my information, nor have I donated to any Republican campaign, nor have I in any other way been associated with them--makes me feel altogether violated. 'Smatter of fact, I'll be supporting Jennifer Granholm in her bid for re-election to governor in every possible way that I can. 'Smatter of fact, I think Dick DeVos is a creep on many levels. And yes, that is my official political stance on the matter. If you want to know why, well, that's a subject for a whole 'nuther post.

You'll have to excuse me now; I have to go delete my cookies.

....Aaaaaand I Have No Life Whatsoever

2006-07-31T17:33:00.000-04:00

At http://www.thisdayinmusic.com/member/birthdayno1.php, you can look up what the Number 1 song was on the day you were born, or really any other day. You can also cross-reference the US and UK charts. I decided to go all out and create a soundtrack for my life, at least as far as birthdays go:

1979: “Love You Inside Out”-the BeeGees
1980: “Funky Town”-Lipps Inc.
1981: “Bette Davis Eyes”-Kim Carnes
1982: “Ebony and Ivory”-Paul McCartney & Stevie Wonder
1983: “Flashdance (What a Feeling”-Irene Cara
1984: “Time After Time”-Cyndi Lauper
1985: “Everybody Wants to Rule the World”-Tears for Fears
1986: “On My Own”-Patti LaBelle and Michael McDonald
1987: “Always”-Atlantic Starr
1988: “One More Try”-George Michael
1989: “Wind Beneath My Wings”-Bette Midler
1990: “Hold On”-Wilson Phillips
1991: “More Than Words”-Extreme
1992: “Jump”-Kris Kross
1993: “That’s the Way Love Goes”-Janet Jackson
1994: “I Swear”-All 4 One
1995: “Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?”-Bryan Adams
1996: “The Crossroads”-Bone Thugs-n-Harmony
1997: “I’ll Be Missing You”-Puff Daddy and Faith Evans (although I prefer the UK charts #1, “Mm Bop”-Hanson)
1998: “The Boy is Mine”-Brandy and Monica
1999: “Livin’ La Vida Loca”-Ricky Martin
2000: “Maria Maria”-Santana
2001: “Lady Marmalade”-Christina Aguilera and friends
2002: “Foolish”-Ashanti
2003: “21 Questions”-50 Cent
2004: “Burn”-Usher
2005: “We Belong Together”-Mariah Carey
2006: “Ridin’”-Chamillionaire Feet. Krayzie Bone.

Sadly, the closer these years get to the present, the less likely I am to know who the artist is, or what the song is. By 2006 I am completely lost, although I do recognize the much-overplayed 2005 song. I think I must have completely tuned out from pop music around 2001. And perhaps rightly so, because whenever I try to tune back in, I hear songs with lyrics that include "lovely lady lumps." And then I switch the channel.

Benevolent Creator

2006-07-26T11:48:00.000-04:00

Courtesy of Ayo, here are my personal DNA results:

Benevolent Creator

Interesting quiz. I like that they give you sliders instead of "check this box, agree or disagree"--it allows for every shade of gray on the scale, which is mostly the way I look at things in life. We were just talking, Ryan and I, last night about our writing, and I was reminiscing about the days when I fancied myself a fiction writer. This was back in high school in college, when I wrote poems on the side but mostly wanted to write novels. Mind you, most of my novels never made it past 40 pages. It seems my formulaic side took over. :) And we were discussing construction of characters, and I mentioned how when I was writing in college, my characters always started out interesting, but went flat after awhile. I think it's partly a testimony to who I was at the time....and I do deeply believe that where YOU are as a person influences where you are as a writer, all debate over no-autobiography-in-critical-analysis-of-poetry aside....which I think most of us go through at some time in our lives. I saw things as extremely formulaic back then. It was perfectly understandable, nay, expected, that you would become some kind of dysfunctional deviant if you had a rotten home life. That it would affect you in very clear-cut ways. And while I still think that a rotten home life will earn you some level of dysfunction (as my dad says, when relating about his own upbringing, such things are in your blood....you have to choose, every single day, NOT to allow those knee-jerk responses rule your actions), it is, after all, a choice. Just like everything else. And there's so much more that goes into the development of a person; so many other influences that help you grow into the person you're going to be. A good fiction writer knows this and allows it to happen in his or her writing.

I'm also reading Alfie Kohn's Unconditional Parenting, which is eye-opening. My parents gave it to me for my birthday this year (and before anyone thinks it's weird--and a high-pressure tactic, to say the least--for my parents give me a book on parenting, I asked for it specifically). It is indeed an open challenge to traditional methods of parenting, and interestingly enough, I tend to agree with most everything he says in there. Some of it's hard to swallow--the idea that we should not praise our children when they've done something "good" or "right" or "well," for example--well, it just runs counter to everything we've come to value in parenting styles. Why not make the kid feel good when he or she's just gotten a great report card? His answer: because they already should feel good about it for the work they put in to achieve it, and your praise at that moment will only serve to plant the seed of "maybe my mom only loves me when I perform at a certain level, and will not love me if I fail." And then of course there's the epidemic of praising kids for doing very little at all, or for simply allowing the inevitable to happen (the author's anecdote was a mother at a park telling her toddler, "good swinging!"--praising the child for the correct use of gravity?). Still, this is a difficult pill to swallow, and while I haven't completely finished the book, I'm holding out for his promise to share ways that we can talk to our kids about what they've accomplished in a way that is positive but does not sound conditional. In my memory, I was rarely praised as a child....which is not to say I was not praised, but I do recall being thanked for doing thoughtful things, even things I knew I was supposed to do, like taking out the garbage or doing the dishes. However grudgingly I did them, I was shown appreciation for doing the right thing. But I think that's not the same thing as praise. Saying thanks is something you do in a civilized society, it's a part of social interaction.

However, I mentioned this book this past weekend to a married couple--friends I've had for years, who both happen to be teachers. Jim teaches middle school and Becky elementary school. Both went through the rigorous education program at Albion, and the minute I mentioned Kohn, Becky got rather wordy about her feelings about him. Apparently they'd been force-fed his theories throughout their education, by a teacher who nobody really tended to respect or like, and it had left a bad taste in her mouth. They are also the parents to a wonderful 2-year-old named Ben and now another on the way, so they're also familiar with what it takes to be a parent, particularly to a toddler. The thing is, so does Kohn. He has two kids, about four years apart in age, and he's raised them as best he can in keeping with his own principles. That's where he has real credibility with me--he's not just some Ph.D. philosophizing from on high. He's been in the trenches and knows what parents are dealing with.

Anyway. Regardless of how you, the reader, may feel about Alfie Kohn, I'm looking forward to finishing the book. It's interesting how it has, in effect, lifted a filter on my perception when it comes to parenting. Now I see moms and dads out and about with their kids all the time, and I have to almost chuckle in a sad way when I see how out of control they are. Yesterday at Meijer's a mom and her three kids were waiting in the checkout line behind me, and the saddest thing is that a) the youngest child, seated in the cart, pitched a fit over having a particular pack of gum that was different than the one she already had, so mom had to acquiesce just to keep her from progressing to full-out tantrum; b) when she had her gum, the child said "THANK you!" in an exasperated sort of way, which the mother did not question or challenge; which led to c) the oldest child, a boy, to tell his little sister that "that is not how we say 'thank you'!"--so we've got children programmed to reprimand children, how convenient; which led to d) the middle child, a girl, to remind her brother that "sometimes [he] says it that way!" Which thankfully did not lead to an all-out squabble; in fact, it became a game between the two older children, practicing different inflections for the words "thank" and "you." Thus proving, to me, that it really didn't matter to them how the words were said and in what context, because they really didn't mean much of anything to them. Applying Kohn's principles, they've been taught to say thank you under any and all circumstances, so really feeling gratitude and acting on that feeling is no longer the priority. It's obeying social convention, not acknowledging the feeling behind it. Kohn says not to do this; don't force them to say "sorry" or "thank you" when clearly you know they don't mean it--let them learn from observing your behavior. When someone gives you something, say thank you and mean it; they'll get a lot more from that than being told what to say and when to say it.

Well, enough babbling. I've got to go to the gym!

Holland, MI

2006-07-19T22:37:00.000-04:00

Holland is an interesting town. We're spending a couple of days here, as per Lewis family tradition, and it's a place that, like Kalamazoo, I believe deserves a lot more attention that it gets. Now, to those who live in Michigan, you're probably aware that this town exists, and have maybe even spent some time here--particularly in the summer, when the beaches are ripe for sunning and swimming. If you don't live in Michigan, you've probably never heard of it, and are scratching your head as to why a town would be named after a country in Europe (or at least, a colloquial name for a country in Europe, which is officially known as The Netherlands).

To give you a little back story: Holland is so named because of the large Dutch population here. A lot of West Michigan is primarily Dutch in heritage--myself included--but in Holland, you can be Dutch unabashedly. There are many tulips, windmills, and wooden shoes here. Also lots of families with LOTS of children. Holland has become a pretty snappy tourist spot because of its convenient location on Lake Michigan, so it's rather busy in the summer but not so much in the winter; however, because Hope College is here, that keeps things going economically in the winter as well.

We went to the beach today, as well as a tour of the dunes that are located just south of Holland, between it and the neighboring city of Saugatuck. This tour consisted of clambering into an open truck chassis that's been converted to hold a dozen people or so with a loose seat belt, and then a young, tan driver careens around on the dunes at a speed that would be wort of The Fast and the Furious. Every so often he stops to give you information about the dunes--ecosystem, history, etc. And every so often you go down some serious hills that make you feel like breakfast was a bad idea.

But it's the dunes themselves that really got to me....what a beautiful, fragile place. How interesting--the way that glaciers are interesting--they're so much older than any of us can imagine, have seen so much, have done so much to our landscape. Without trees around, dunes could shift over 5 feet per year. There's a whole city covered by the dunes now--an old logging/port city, that got abandoned when the timber ran out, and the dunes just moved right in.

And that a forest can live there as well....there's only about six inches of topsoil, but trees grow there in the valleys.

I had to write about this....want to remember the awe I felt sitting under that canopy of trees, knowing that beneath is only sand....moving sand that won't even be in this position a year from now.

"I know your garden's full / But is there sweetness at all?"

2006-07-06T10:58:00.000-04:00

The above line is from the song by U2, "Wild Honey," which I was listening to on my way home from Henniker. It really rang some bells in my head. For the last couple years, my garden's definitely been full--almost too full at times, it feels like. So busy, and yet not accomplishing what I meant to.

So where's the sweetness? Why haven't I been leaving room for it?

Almost Home

2006-07-02T08:30:00.000-04:00

As I sit here on my bed in Henniker, NH and think about all that's happened since I've been here, and all that will happen when I get home, it's a little mind-boggling. My life has changed dramatically in the last few days, and all I could do was sit back and watch it happen.

I love being here. I love being surrounded by so much talent, so much knowledge, so much willingness. This residency went so fast, it seems; not like in previous residencies, which had kind of a "hitting the wall" moment about halfway through, and then you had to grind your way through the remaining days until it was time to go home. I'm leaving here tomorrow actually wishing I could stay longer, absorb more.

One thing is certain, however; I have a renewed commitment to finding and/or developing a creative community for myself back home. It's more important to me now than ever. All those things I keep thinking about doing....setting up a reading, teaching workshops, etc.....it's time to do them. The recent change in employment (I'll let anybody who is following this blog regularly work that one out) has wrought in me a sort of delight, actually, once the grief washed over, that I might devote much more of my time and energy to what I REALLY want to be doing, not to what I feel I need to do to make ends meet. There were many aspects to being self-employed that I truly was grateful for....flexibility of time, and so on, but in actuality there is also the added risk of being consumed by work, under pressure of not making enough money to buy groceries or pay the electric bill, which makes being able to concentrate on artistic endeavors difficult.

It's time.

How Do You Nicely Convince People to Use Snopes.com Without Hurting Their Feelings?

2006-05-19T12:42:00.000-04:00

It seems the old e-mail forwards are still out there circulating and strong, and how in the WORLD do you nicely point out to your forward-happy friends that NONE of the stories they're circulating are true??

Snopes.com. It's there for a reason. Use it!

Once Again, The Internet is Nothing but Trouble

2006-05-16T13:01:00.000-04:00

As in my previous post about Susan May Pratt, I suddenly had the urge this morning to recall the lyrics to an old favorite TV show of mine. I remembered that at one point, while on a band trip in high school, a classmate dared me to recite the entire thing from memory, and if I did, he would do 100 'shups (that's push-ups, for the uninitiated). I recall actually winning that dare, although I don't think he ever did his 'shups. I think he claimed that unless I could recite all of the alternate endings, it didn't count. Well, here you are, David Wellfare--pay up!

It's time for Animaniacs
And we're zany to the max
So just sit back and relax
You'll laugh 'til you collapse
We're Animaniacs!

Come join the Warner Brothers
And the Warner Sister, Dot
Just for fun we run around the Warner movie lot.
They lock us in the tower whenever we get caught
But we break loose and then vamoose
And now you know the plot!

We're Animaniacs!
Dot is cute and Yakko yaks.
Wakko packs away the snacks
While Bill Clinton plays the sax.
(or We've got wisecracks by the stacks.)
(or We pay tons of income tax.)
We're Animaniacs!

Meet Pinky and the Brain who want to rule the universe.
(or Meet Ralph and Dr Scratchansniff; say hi to Hello Nurse.)
Goodfeathers flock together; Slappy whacks 'em with her purse.
Buttons chases Mindy, while Rita sings a verse.
The writers flipped; we have no script Why bother to rehearse?

Cast : We're Animaniacs!
We have pay-or-play contracts.
We're zany to the max
There's baloney in our slacks.
We're Animanie,
Totally insaney

(alternate endings)
Here's the show's namey
Pinky and The Brainy
Come back, Shaney
The rain in Spainy
Cockamamie
Shirley MacLainey
How urbaney
Citizen Kaney
Andromeda Strainy
Where's Lon Chaney?
Eisenhower Mamie
Miss Cellany
Chicken Chow Meiny
Dana Delaney
No pain, no gainy
Hydroplaney
Money down the drainy
Penny Laney
Ehhh...
Tarzan and Janey
Novocainey
Here's the Flamey
Meet Mark Twainy
Presidential campaigny
Hunchback of Notre Damey
Bowling laney
Bangor, Mainey
Frasier Craney
Mister Haney
Quiche lorrainey
Lake Champlainy
High octaney
Public domainy

Cast : Animaniacs! Those are the facts.

Thinking about....

2006-05-04T13:35:00.000-04:00

....who I was then, versus who I am now.

Maybe it's the 10 year high school reunion thing, or whatever, but I've been nostalgic lately. I actually pulled out my senior year yearbook and started looking through it....wondering where all those people went, what they did with themselves, what 10 years has done to them. And then I thought about what 10 years has done to me. Of course it's easy to say "a lot." Hopefully all of them can say that! (if they couldn't, I'd be concerned)

But mostly I've been thinking about who I was then, or who I thought I was in relation to other people. I really honestly thought I was a nobody. I mean, I thought I had talents, but either they weren't "good enough" (meaning there was someone better at it than me) or else they were "useless" (meaning they didn't get me anywhere on the social ladder--like being a valedictorian, getting good grades, etc.). Kind of extremist thought, I know. Yet at the same time, I wasn't so much of a dork that I stood out for it...I was just middle-of-the-road, and therefore totally ignorable. I really, really identified with the character of Abby Barnes in The Truth About Cats and Dogs. Still do, as a matter of fact, but not so much that I think of myself that way anymore. It was certainly how I felt about myself then, though.

I've recently put a message out to a girl I found on Myspace who used to go to my high school. We were in the same grade, but I don't think I would have called us friends. Non-hostile acquaintances? I mean, we were friendly, of course. She actually did strike me as very nice, and perhaps misunderstood. By that, I mean because she was very pretty, and very popular, I sometimes thought the teachers didn't give her a whole lot of scholarly attention. One time sticks out in my mind, when we had a class together, and I don't think once do I remember the teacher ever calling on her to answer a question. And I kind of felt bad for her in that way, because I was (and am) quite convinced that she's very intelligent. At the very least, I never saw her behave meanly or cruelly to someone of a lower social caste (ahhh, high school politics). And that made her remarkable, in my book.

But having sent her the Myspace message, now I get all nervous. First of all, will she remember me? (remember, I was a nobody, right? but perhaps that's my conclusion, not the actual truth) Second of all, will she even care to get to know me, now that we're removed from all the junk of adolescence?

I'm trying to remind myself that what matters is who I am now--and that maybe who I was then wasn't so bad, either.

The Interesting Thing About Blogs...

2006-03-22T11:36:00.000-05:00

...is that you can't really write what you feel here.

It's a public forum. It's not a diary you keep on your nightstand. It doesn't have a lock on it. What you write, you must be willing to accept will be read by others, who will respond accordingly.

I dunno, I've just been hearing a lot lately about people using blogs to express their....um....not so positive emotions. Which, incidentally, I think is important in terms of venting and letting go of anger. But sometimes it's not the most constructive thing to put it out there in the open where you can make a volatile situation worse, say hurtful things that others will read and be hurt by.

And what was the story once on that guy who got fired because of what he wrote in his blog about his job?

Communication skills....where are they, and why don't people learn them?

Oh, and for anyone who's reading this and hoping for updates from me, I would like to report that directorship is MINE (bwahhaha), that I'm working on earning a Grand Prix now, and that I'm about to go down to South Bend for a conference where I will be celebrated on stage! wahoo! Also, I've got about 10-12 pages of my thesis done in a rough copy, and will have at least 5 more pages by middle of next month. Still getting awesome reviews--I'm really happy. :)

I'm also working on getting some stuff out to journals and contests within the next couple months--I have a fairly decent body of work now that's good for submitting (at least I keep telling myself that--my inner perfectionist disagrees, but she always disagrees, so I'm telling her to take a hike).

OH! AND CHIROPRACTORS ARE BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE THEM. Dr. Todd is my new best friend, my lumbar lover, my right-hip-man. $30 dollars and me love him long time. ;)

Hooray!

2006-02-24T09:55:00.000-05:00

After a very difficult month, scholastically, I received feedback on my (late) first packet to the fantabulous Alicia Ostriker. Adjectives she chose included: excellent, truly solid, breathtaking, great. WAHOO!!!!

Imagine what she'd say if I'd actually gotten the dang thing in on time! ;)

I was just so bogged down with DIQ stuff this month....it being the last month in which to meet the requirements and all, kind of important....it was really hard to concentrate on school things. Fortunately in 4 days that will no longer be a problem. Wow.....4 days.

*gets up, gets back to work*

The Things You Learn Late at Night

2006-02-04T22:35:00.000-05:00

Let this be a cautionary tale: do not get up after you intended to go to sleep because you are suddenly hit with the impulse to learn something random on the internet. Tonight's itch to be scratched was, "Was Susan May Pratt a ballet dancer prior to beginning her acting career, or does she have a body double in Center Stage?" I surfed around and found, much to my disappointment, that in fact, she has NEVER done any ballet dancing; however, much to my shock and amazement, she was born in the same city I was, several years earlier. We actually went to rival high schools. Kind of weird, and certainly not what I was expecting! Although now I can say, with satisfaction, that someone else famous has come out of Lansing besides Magic Johnson (although I like him very much, too).

Now that I've learned this, perhaps I can get some sleep.

P.S. Pratt's co-star in Center Stage, Zoe Saldana, however, WAS a dancer and studied both acting and dance extensively in her teens.

Frivolous Henniker Posting

2006-01-09T17:38:00.000-05:00

You'd think after spending 7 full days here at New England College doing my third MFA residency, I'd have something more intelligent to share. The answer is no. There will be more intelligent things, but probably not until after I've had time to properly process. It's been a real doozy of a residency.....a lot more personal and poetic growth......don't I say this every time? Every time it's true!

Thanks once more to El Steeno, for sharing items such as this on his blog which I tend to steal and use here for my own evil purposes.

1. If you fell in love with a wonderful man with the last name spelled S.C.H.I.T.Z, would you keep your own last name? yeah, probably. But that's the feminist impulse in me.

2. If you could have any song writer write you a love song, who would you choose? Based on the poem I workshopped today, I'd have to go with the band Chicago.

3. If you could have any song playing while you danced with a woman that you just realized is the love of your life, what would it be? Norah Jones, "The Nearness of You"....because I did that. :)

4. What movie/literary character best represents you? It's changed over the years, but currently I'd say Bridget Jones.

5. If you could have acted in any movie, which would you choose? Spiderman 2, because I like Alfred Molina and Tobey Maguire's hot.

6. If you had to marry one of your guy friends, who would you marry? I did that already! If I had to marry one of my girlfriends I'd pick Sara, though.

7. If you could act in a movie with any co-star, who would it be? Michael Palin of Monty Python fame, because I'd get to laugh a lot every day.

8. What actor would you have play you in a movie about your life? I think Janeane Garofalo did pretty well in The Truth About Cats and Dogs, but I'd also go for Jewel Staite. It would be brilliant if Emma Thompson could, but she doesn't look anything like me and is significantly older than me as well, so I don't see that happening. Actually I don't see them making a movie about my life anytime soon. Everyone knows poets don't get famous until after they die. ;)

Scary Comparisons

2005-12-29T12:11:00.000-05:00

I have learned a lot over the past month about a certain little company called Amway. I don't want to dredge up WHY I learned a lot about Amway, but there have been some frightening comparisons drawn between them and Mary Kay, and while I feel I can refute most of them (they are nowhere near alike), it's disturbing to hear that some of the Amway lingo, when it was at its peak, is so similar to some of the things I've heard (and said myself) in Mary Kay.

Bottom line, I have no problem with encouraging people to think positively--about life, about their business, about basically everything. Not in such a way that you deny reality, not in a self-duping manner, but in a way that allows you to still function even when you experience setbacks or obstacles or frustrations. If I had thrown in the towel any time things got rough in my business over the past two-ish years, I'd have quit long ago. And if I'd quit, I'd never have experienced what I am experiencing now, which is great satisfaction and decent financial compensation.

Because, bottom line, one is very influenced by a) the thoughts and opinions of others and b) one's own thoughts and opinions. I know we like to think that we don't care if others say mean things about us or the things we care about, but let me tell you--I came across some scathing websites about Mary Kay and it really put me in a funk. Not because I believed them (I believed their stories, of course, but not their conclusions that MK as a whole sucks the big one), but because I was so sad that those stories even existed.

And of course people criticize Amway, saying that anyone who had stories like that didn't work hard enough, etc., which makes me bite my tongue, because that's what I said in response to the stories I read about MK. But the truth is this--these two companies are completely different. They operate differently. One sells a product, and one claims to sell a product but is really selling motivational material to keep people thinking about selling product, and encouraging them to sign up more more more more people. One rewards you for the work you do, and one rewards you for work you don't do, or fails to reward you at all.

Bottom line, I could explain what I do, where the money comes from and how and how much, to any average person in about a half an hour to forty-five minutes. In its entirety. Sure, there are a few technicalities that really take time to get to know, but in essence I could make you feel as though you understand what's going on with Mary Kay, and you'd be able to make a logical decision. The key here being logical--not emotional, not out of trust (because truthfully, over half the people I share this information with are total strangers, who may or may not have even be referred to me by someone we know in common--they may just be people I met randomly and struck up a conversation with over the produce aisle or something)--I certainly don't make them feel like their lives are crap and they need to do something about it or die, broke and alone.

As for feeling required to buy stuff and go to events, in my experience, sure, MK recommends you attend meetings, regional conferences, and the big SEMINAR. Are you required? Absolutely not. But the real crux of it is, why go? Not to get fired up--I can fire myself up quite well, thank you. The key is TO GET TRAINING. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that when you first start doing something, anything, you come into it with only a minimal level of skill. Maybe you have some personal aptitude, but other than that, you're a rookie. SO, you need training. I think maybe that's the difference between these Amway/Quixtar/Team events and ours.....it doesn't sound like there's much TRAINING because, well, at least as far as I can tell, there isn't much to train about. You learn how to "show the plan" to other people and convince them to sign up. That's really about it. Once you've got that, what else is there to learn? All the events in MK I've attended, from the very small to the very large, include actual bona fide training. Inspiration? Yes. Motivation? Of course. But mostly because you feel more equipped after going to these things and are ready to go out and give it a good shot.

Oh yeah, and by the way, you don't have to buy any motivational stuff in Mary Kay. Does the company offer it? Certainly, for purchase on the InTouch website. And many of the National Sales Directors have audio and video tapes/DVDs available on their personal websites that you can also purchase. But that's just it--they're AVAILABLE. I wouldn't even know about most of it if I hadn't skimmed around looking for interesting tidbits. They aren't mentioned at meetings and they're not for sale there, either.

I don't know. It makes the brain swim. I don't like making connections between stuff like Amway and Mary Kay--and I certainly don't like other people voicing them. It just makes me angry.....like it's slander or something.....people talking about what they don't know. Then I get all weirded out, because I'm sure that's what Amway people say in response to criticism, too. And in truth, isn't that what we all say in response to criticism, when we're not necessarily prepared to deal with accepting it?

(and my brain argues, but I am prepared, and MK still is okay!!)

*editing here to provide some clarification in case anyone is interested, since this entry sparked such comments*

I wrote this entry to my blog because of some friends and family who are getting involved in an Amway derivative company called The Team. I really do wish them all the luck and fortune in the world in this endeavor, but as I have explained above, my husband and I have some reservations about it and we choose not to be involved at this time. I acknowledge that every company is going to have positives and negatives. For us, there are too many unanswered questions and questions that are not answered in what we view to be a positive light. Again, I hope those involved get exactly what they want out of it, as I'm sure they wish the same for me in my endeavors. My uneasiness with some of the similarities was the prompt for this entry--and my sadness that anyone ever had a negative experience in MK (or Amway/Quixtar/Team, for that matter)--not my unbridled hatred for said companies. Sorry for the confusion, if there was any.

In This Town We Call Home, Everyone Hail to the Pumpkin Song!

2005-10-31T15:02:00.000-05:00

It's Halloween! Awesome holiday. Of course no one remembers (or cares, I would argue) where it originally came from, but does it matter? Free candy!

I can't believe how fast October went. It was like the blink of an eye. I have been working so hard on my business and on school....and now SAI too, since official visits have started (2 down, 3 to go for colleges; still 4 left for alumnae chapters). And trying desperately to get five minutes in here and there with my husband, who is likewise very busy. We did get to have time this weekend--we drove to my brother's house in Oxford and babysat Zachary for an evening, then spent the rest of the weekend just hanging out. I still can't believe how big Zach is now, how incredibly smart and talkative. His new phrase is "HOLY COW!" said with great relish. Thank you, Uncle Ryan, for teaching him a PC phrase. :)

Things that are tickling my happy bone today, besides Halloween and still floating on a Zachary-shaped cloud: Redwings, Redwings and more Redwings....I have six, count 'em, six appointments this week and just finished out the month with three new team members....I'm reading Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, who I really like.....NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow (not that I will be really really participating, but I am going to try a bit, when I can--it would just be silly to devote too much time to it when I have all my own schoolwork to do that is NOT fiction)....the thought of calling up an old friend and getting together for a snack or a drink one day soon....got my BLAST tickets in the mail.....there's lots of chocolate in my house--oh wait! That's Halloween again. Whoops!

And mostly I just like fall. Cathy's blog (see right) waxes quite eloquent on the subject, but I want to pay my own little homage here, too. The colors are so brilliant. I remember this time last year when Ryan and I went to Traverse City for our honeymoon, and how EXTREME the colors are there. Obviously the further north you go, the brighter the colors, because the weather is, on the whole, chillier than down here. But even what we have here is enough to make me smile. Fall is my favorite season, I think. Although mostly I think I just like it when seasons change....I like the transitions.....anything that sticks around too long does tend to get boring. Case in point: first snowfall, as opposed to one hundred and eightieth snowfall....yeah.

And of course, right now I have a packet due, so back to work with me. Why do I always feel most inclined to write here when I have a deadline?

Sometimes You Just Want a Bunny

2005-10-11T16:48:00.000-04:00

I was just gandering at my friend's blog and saw the pictures of her two rabbits.....do you ever just want a rabbit? I had one when I was a kid. I kind of felt the same way today when I was at Meijer's and saw the hamsters. Something about small, furry things make you want to have them, even when you know they will become the plaything of two inquisitive cats who might not know their own strength (or claws). Maybe it's because today I just feel like burying my face into something soft. I'm really tired today....sometimes I think my cold isn't all the way gone, and I feel like I'm not accomplishing everything I should be.

Tomorrow I leave for North Carolina to visit with Loretta, and we're picking up Ruthie on the way. Yay! Road trip! And I get to drive Pam's Grand Prix..... ;)

To recap, Beachpoint was AWESOME and well worth going. I am so geeked out now about what I do for a living (and being reminded that I can make a living at it if I try was really helpful). I'm ready to be a director now. I wasn't before--thought I was, but really I wasn't. I needed to go through a valley or two first (or technically wouldn't climbing the mountain be harder? Oh well, use your own metaphor). And I needed to hear Karla say it too, to hear her story of ups and downs--extreme ones--someone successful whom I already deeply respect and admire for all she's done. And now look, she's at the top of her game. So cool.

Wow, do I need a nap. But wow, do I need to pack, make dinner, make phone calls, and study. Can you say overwhelmed?

Also

2005-10-07T15:01:00.000-04:00

This weekend: Beachpoint retreat TONIGHT! :) Tailgating at WMU tomorrow with Kevin and Aimee. Having an "our day" with Ryan Sunday, since anniversary is MONDAY!

Eliminating articles from sentences somehow speeds up said sentences, even though articles account for approximately 3% of entire paragraph. Seems like cutting out longer words would be more effective. Who invented this system anyway? :)

Blast from the Past

2005-10-07T14:49:00.000-04:00

I think I have reached that point in my life where I am suddenly very interested in what has happened to the people I went to high school with. This directly follows the period of time where I never wanted to think about that time of my life ever again, a la early-twenties angst. I'll be honest, it wasn't the most fun for me, those days at good ol' Lansing Eastern High. It had its high points, but most of the time I felt insecure, unpopular, unattractive to the opposite sex, and altogether too smart to be fun to be around. I didn't feel like I fit in much of anywhere....not exactly a band geek, not exactly a drama queen, nor the "D&D dorks," nor the nerds, nor the goths, nor the alternateens. I was exactly in the middle, which left me nowhere. Or so it felt.

And I assumed, actually, that no one much missed me after I went. I had a few friends I hung onto who sympathized with my emotional plight, and still have them to this day. But the other day, lo and behold, I got an email from a girl in my graduating class who I had long assumed I would never see or talk to again. We had been friends more in middle school than high school, and I thought maybe I'd see her an a reunion or something, but her approach me? Nah. (Funny how we assume that people don't care) But true enough, she emailed me and we've begun a fun conversation, which prompted me to go check out the new alumni website for the high school and see if anyone else I knew was around.....and sure enough, they were!

I guess I'm really having to reevaluate that old insecurity....because see, now, here is proof that I wasn't the total nobody I thought I was back then. And of course there were people there that I'd just as soon as never see again, but on the whole maybe not everyone was in that group. In fact, maybe most people weren't.

So I'm kind of reclaiming that time of my life right now....looking back to see what good there was. I did learn a lot, I had some of the best teachers I've ever had in my life (long live Spag, retired but not forgotten), and made some lasting friends--maybe more than I've reckoned. I think high school is rough on everyone, whether or not they care to admit it. And let's face it--if, by the time you approach 30, you still say that high school was the best time of your life--maybe you should be examining how you spend your time! LOL Because these days it seems every year was a great year....every year was the best time of my life, in its own way....I don't have glory days (although I came pretty close to it in college) because they're all glorious.

Your Monthly Update

2005-09-27T19:37:00.000-04:00

I know I haven't kept up here, but it has been quite the month. We spent the better part of it grappling with car issues--trying to sell Ryan's Jeep, and purchase something more fuel-efficient and therefore cheaper for him to drive the 45-mile one-way trip to work each day. His cousin Kevin agreed to sell us his '02 Saturn, for only the cost of what he still owed, which is a GREAT deal that we were really excited about. We even found a buyer for the Jeep, which we didn't think we'd be able to do, given how NOT fuel-efficient they are (and we'd only just listed it when Katrina hit and drove the gas prices up well over $3/gal). But the credit union kept making us jump through hoops....mistakes were made on both ends....thankfully everyone else involved was gracious and patient, but we've been pulling out hair out trying to get it all taken care of. And today, at last, it is finished. The check will be on our doorstep tomorrow morning. Praise all that is holy and good in the universe.

The nice thing is, all the work we did put us in even better financial shape than we had hoped to be. Our credit's cleared up a great deal, we have a lot fewer monthly payments, and the car payment dropped significantly--not to mention how much we'll save on gas now. Who knew? I for one am just pleased to have it over (although I did cry when we handed over the keys to the Jeep last night....Shawn and Jenny are wonderful people who I know we'll see again....but that car has meant more to me than a car ever has, I think.....a symbol of the Ryan I first met, the guy who was pleasantly different, who drove a weird, square car and waved at other people who drove weird, square cars).

This, of course, has to all come to a head this week, when I have a packet due (notice how I'm only ever blogging when I have a packet due? LOL). That also got finished tonight. This is perhaps the best packet I have turned in though--ever. I can't remember ever being so emotionally involved with my work, except during residencies. I think part of the change is that we bought a laptop used from someone I know, and it has changed my whole writing world. I take it with me everywhere....which means I can write everywhere....it just feels so deliberate, I love it! My favorite thing right now is to take it with me to Water Street (coffee shop) and curl up on their comfy couches and read and write for hours. Maybe get a nice Italian soda or something to drink, maybe even a snack (they have yummy desserts). It's just that much easier to throw myself into my work.....I just feel like a sponge, I read so diligently now (more than before, anyway) and write so passionately. I don't know what's come over me, it can't just be the laptop! ;)

We did have a slight mishap about a week and a half ago that involved an emergency room trip for Ryan....he cut off a chunk of his thumb with a knife as he was chopping onions for dinner. That was interesting, to say the least. To see a piece of thumb on a cutting board. This led to all kinds of jokes later, about how the meal was no longer vegetarian (we were making stuffed peppers for Stef) and questions about whether the cats would eat it if we offered it to them (the answer probably would be yes). So now he has a very large bandage on his thumb and I have to do the dishes for at least another week or two. Greeeeeeaaat.

Like the New Look?

2005-08-29T13:59:00.000-04:00

I got the above from an email that a friend of mine sends out every now and then with socially/political relevant information. This new Supreme Court justice nominee, John Roberts, was the subject of this particular email, and I found this article to be interesting, if not a bit waffly. It wasn't something I'd considered....the idea that someone with religious tenets that could sway their judgement--i.e. if they made a judgement in certain cases, their Eternal Life could be called into question by their church--might be banned from hearing those cases. Of course personal interest questions make sense in terms of whether the judge would stand to profit financially, etc. from a decision, but after what happened to John Kerry and the Catholic Church, I guess this is a logical thing to ask.

And as the article points out, that could be extended to Protestants, Jews, Muslims--basically anybody. So who is allowed to hear abortion cases? Euthanasia cases? Basically the most important stuff? I guess, by default, atheists.

That got me thinking, then, about the role religion plays in people's lives. I've already been on edge for awhile about the way that religious life is seeping into mainstream life (which is not to say I have any grudge about people having religious beliefs....I have them myself....it's just that when I want to listen to Christian music, I'll put on a Christian station, and when I want mainstream music, I'll put on the mainstream music. Now it seems I get Christian music whether I want to or not), and yet, funnily enough, Christians still think they've got the short end of the stick. I heard Karla say once that all Christians were in the minority. I wanted to say something to the effect of are you so sure about that? because it seems like the bulk of today's political leaders are outspokenly Christian, and therefore are enacting laws and social mores that fit their views. I've never felt like more of a minority in my life. Which makes me wonder if "feeling" like a minority is really more mental than it is anything concrete and quantifiable. Perhaps Christians are trained to feel like they're in the minority, even when they're not. Perhaps we all are.

So back to this musing on "Catholics Need Not Apply"--clearly in any other setting, this would be blatant discrimination based on religious beliefs. But what if your religious beliefs would prevent you from doing your job properly?

I have a lot more thoughts on this, but at the risk of spending all day here I'll take more time to compile them and post later.

Right, so....

2005-08-21T15:48:00.000-04:00

I'm currently busting my hump because I left a lot of my homework to the last minute. It didn't help that I was gone most of the month of July, and a lot of that was spent in a car where, hello, I can't read or write without getting carsick. So here I am trying to write a 2-3 page paper comparing two poems by the same author. Let me just say that fitting that kind of analysis in that short a space is really, really hard. The first paper I had to write was easier, because it was just analyzing one poem. Now I have to do two in the same amount of space. And I'm having one of those "not so brilliant" days, where my brain just feels slow and my body is tired and cranky with me, and I feel like I have way too much to do all at once. Ryan's outside mowing the lawn with our new lawnmower (we bought a relatively cheap motorized one, which he's been craving basically ever since we moved in here) and I know I should be helping out with chores, especially since I clearly am not going to be doing so well on this paper of mine.

Had dinner with Mandy this week...that was nice. I haven't seen her in a long time, although we've kept up over email. She and Ray are finally getting a divorce. The details of this I will not elaborate on, because it's their business, but let me just say I'm glad. The "she deserves better" line is old and overused, but I think it's apt here.

My brain REALLY wants to shut off right now. But I'm going to force it to remain running for just a little while longer.

Back From Seminar...And I Never Want to Drive Anywhere Again

2005-07-26T10:30:00.000-04:00

After two long car trips this past month (and a few days), I am totally sick of driving. I just got back from Dallas for Seminar, which is a 17 hour drive provided you don't stop. Granted, this time I didn't have to do it myself--we took two cars and split up the passengers so people were driving in shifts, but it's hard to sleep in a car and so you never really felt rested by the time it was your shift again. We left on Monday and drove through the night.....then came home Saturday but stopped at a hotel Saturday night to finish up the rest of the trip on Sunday. And by the way, Arkansas's state bird is the mosquito. This we were informed of by the hotel clerk, who advised us to run, not walk, to the hotel room and then, once everyone was ready, fling open the door, run inside, and slam it shut again to avoid getting mosquitoes in the room. It didn't work. We were slapping and clapping all night and still managed to get bitten up pretty well. The weird thing is that I didn't notice mine until I got home. Late blooming bites, apparently.

My computer's acting up and internet's not working so great, so bear with me if I have to turn this into several posts interspursed throughout the week.

First of all, I'd never been to Seminar. Last year I joined too soon to really entertain the thought of paying for it--no time to save. Honestly I also considered it slightly hokey. But this year I have been proven wrong. It was too dang cool. For once women are all wearing the same thing and no one cares! LOL I have to say that my favorite aspect of the trip was the tour we took of the manufacturing plant....believe it or not. First of all the place is so clean you could eat off the floor. Seriously, cleaner than my house. Secondly, everyone there was happy. And not in the way that "oh they told me to smile at the tourists, so I'm smiling..." No, it was real. We passed a vat of something we couldn't identify, so we called up to the guy on the catwalk and asked him what it was.....so he came down, took time out of his work day, to explain what he was making and how it was being done. There were plaques all over the walls honoring people who had worked there 10, 15, even 25 years or more.....who are even still working there. That just blows me away. It became apparent to me that they structure the runnings of the factory the same way they do the sales force and the corporate offices.....it's all about praising the people you employ, encouraging them to do their best, and understanding that they're people. In a way I think it's MORE important to treat your factory workers that way than your sales force....they're the ones who are cooped up in a factory all day doing something not particularly interesting or mentally stimulating, like putting the caps on lipstick. Tens of thousands of tubes of lipstick a day. There were awards EVERYWHERE for every kind of department in the place....packaging, shipping, etc. I imagine they get cool bonuses and stuff for that. In addition, and I understand that this is a yearly thing, every department is asked to make a display of some kind representing both their department and the theme of that year's seminar, and at the end we're supposed to vote on who's got the best. You'd think this was cheesy, and I suppose to an extent it was, but they were REALLY into it. There was one really elaborate Star Wars-themed one that was a crackup....they'd even gotten blacklights and poster cutouts of the Star Wars characters, and some were dressed up that way....created a pink "space cadillac" out of the different packaging parts....it was nuts!

Seeing that made me even more proud that this is my job....that I work "for" that company (technically I don't, but you know what I mean). That nobody is left out of what this company's supposed to stand for, and this was proof to me that it's not just some hypocritical statement whereby certain people benefit but others don't. That's important to me, more than anything else.

I also came home with the confidence that I could do this.....I was feeling pretty shabby about my job this month and last, because I've been gone so much and things just haven't been clicking like I thought they would or should.....this is my second month that I've submitted for DIQ and I thought I was going to fall out again. But things have turned in my favor and now I think perhaps I may be able to pull this off, with shining colors, no less.

And of course I didn't neglect my writing while I was gone....too bad I can't write in the car without getting carsick....but I did write a poem while we were there for Jenni Shafer, who is one of the consultants in Karla's unit and a really cool gal I roomed with. Her brother died earlier this year in a very tragic car accident and I was moved by her story. We all knew he'd died, but of course the details weren't something that they shared with us at meeting, because it was so personal. But she told us while we were there what happened, and I was so moved by their journey of grief and faith, I couldn't help myself.

And now I have to figure out what to do with my day until later tonight, when I have two facials to do. Rah!

Home Home Home

2005-07-06T13:19:00.000-04:00

I made it, late (or early?) somewhere between July 3 and July 4. The drive home was fairly easy in terms of the actual trip, but my brain was, and is, so fried that it just felt a lot longer than it did coming out to the East Coast. I made a lot more stops than I did on the way out, which slowed me up some.

It's weird to be home. Now it's back to the "regular" life, which includes the necessity of balancing. I didn't have to balance anything at school....if anything, all I balanced was "active brain time" to "have a drink time." :) But now there's all this other stuff that needs to be done....loose ends that didn't get tied up before I left, or which came undone in my absence. I've made a list of things that need to get done and it's fairly long. Thankfully they're all pretty menial tasks, because I don't think I could handle much else right now.

I do need to go to the library, take back the old set of books and get new ones. I need to be reading, I can't go cold turkey on the poetry. Kind of like caffeine, which I was surviving on those last few days out there....I can't just not have any right now, or even go straight back to my usual consumption levels. Just have to ease through the transition.

I feel like I can't even focus on MK at all....it's so out of the realm of my head from where I was the last two weeks. But I am going to Pam's today to get myself together and make plans for the next few months. And then of course Seminar is at the end of the month, so that'll remind me. And then I'll have to rebalance again after that deluge of yet another aspect of my life....;)

Anyway, back to that list. I have to run some errands before going to Pam's.

You Know You're Doing Something Right if You Make Someone Cry

2005-06-30T13:28:00.000-04:00

(Residency Day 8)

Which I did today, in the best possible way. I turned in a poem for workshop that actually caused someone to be so moved as to cry while she read it out loud for the group (FYI: workshops usually involve either the poet reading the poem out loud before critique begins, someone else reading it out loud, or both--can give you more depth and understanding by hearing it out loud, or bring to light inconsistencies between written and aural presentation that need to be addressed). Which in turn got me starting to cry, although I held back pretty well. You see, as I may have mentioned before, one of the biggest criticisms I've gotten since joining this program is that my poems are unnecessarily emotionally detached....talking about highly-charged subjects, but effectively removing myself from the poem, which leaves it coming off cold. Sometimes understatement is an effective tool to get at something larger than words can express, but sometimes too much is too much.

Anyway, I wrote a poem while I was here about "the summer of '99" which is yet another euphemism and I really don't feel like explaining here why that specifically was a horrific, terrible summer for me--those who know will just know, and those who don't can feel free to ask me in private--because I decided that I needed to dig down deeper and write about something that I simply cannot brush off or speak of lightly. I went for gut-wrenching and I got it, seriously. It was a huge breakthrough for me. All the poetry spilling out of me this week has been so charged, so messy and beautiful and emotive. Like a dam breaking.

Paula told me that she thinks the second residency and correspondance semester is probably the biggest for most students, because finally you can stop focusing on the "how do I do this program" and focus more on yourself, on your work. You know the ropes now. You can just go with it. I am beginning to agree with her--no, wait, I already agree, and have been since, like, Monday.

I really am starting to miss home, though. All this personal growth and no one to hug me through it. And do you ever notice how powerful it is for two people who are in an intimate relationship to use each other's names? So often you just fall into "baby," "honey," "sweetie," etc. and then when the REAL name is used....it's huge. Just a thought I had the other day.

Darkness: A Personal Discovery (Residency Day 5)

2005-06-27T17:22:00.000-04:00

You never know what to expect when you're here, I swear. You come to Poetry Camp (can you spot a euphemism when you see one?) and expect only to work on poetry. Didn't know I'd also be working on myself. To make a long story short, I workshopped a poem today that I thought was simply breezy, light, summery, happy....a poem about being a newlywed. Imagine my surprise when someone says it's "dark." Dark? WTF?! I was almost offended, it took me so off guard (and it has been a long time since I got offended in a workshop).

Then I thought about it more, and talked with Judith a little bit, and realized that I had something to learn about the way I was perceiving my marriage and basically the way I handle anything "negative." I never thought of myself as a bottler of emotions, but I can say that the one emotion I hide from the most is shame. I will do almost anything to avoid admitting some form of shame, that I made a mistake, that I hurt someone, or did something stupid. Not so much in little day-to-day things, but bigger ones. And that is really not how life is. It's not how a healthy relationship is. How superficial it would be to only celebrate the light in someone else, the good deeds done, the positive attitude. How superficial to overlook the rest, the things that make you whole.

And then I thought back to when Ryan and I were first dating, the kinds of conversations we had then.....long ones, insanely long, and painful sometimes. The kind you can only have with the lights off when you're lying in bed and not even really looking at each other, muttering your darkest secrets and fully expecting to be laughed at, chastised, or rejected. And the joy of being accepted, even more deeply loved! Of course now we don't have a whole lot of secrets to tell....we pretty much told them all in those first few months. So what happens now that it's just daily living stuff to deal with? I began to stuff again....to tuck away carefully so that I never appeared anything but perfect. No mistakes allowed. And when some slipped out, I still felt that old certainty of rejection, or unforgiveness.

Why do I assume this? Why do I think that someone who has already confessed unconditional, lifelong love to me will all of a sudden recant? And why then do I systematically try to avoid such a situation?

It's amazing what your writing will express even when you won't. It's amazing what gets through "under the radar" and pours out, and everyone else can see it but you. I have always thought that my writing was the key to truth in my life....the times when I stopped writing were a clue to me that all was not well, that I was lying to myself in some form or another. I barely wrote, except by school assignment, during the three years I dated Drew. And even within my relationship and marriage to Ryan, there have been dry spells.....and it's not so much then that our relationship is in any kind of trouble, but my own little dishonesties to myself clog my pen (then that circles back to, if I told the truth faster, then our marriage would be in trouble--which is a false assumption).

I remember, too, when we started dating, that I was journaling a lot more, getting things worked out privately almost as soon as issues came up. I didn't sit on them, wait for a better time to think about them, or anything. Feelings up, feelings out--nothing festered. It used to come automatically. Now that I am a little more busy and less energetic than I was then, perhaps I need to be Type A about it and actually schedule journaling time.

Because truly, it's not just in relationships that I do this....I avoid shame anywhere and everywhere. And my brain tells me that the only way to avoid shame is to avoid making mistakes, and we all know that won't happen, for as long as I'm alive.

I feel at a precipice....about to fall....but it's okay, there's something soft and warm at the bottom. And I can wear a parachute if it makes me feel safer.

School: Day Two-ish

2005-06-25T13:29:00.000-04:00

I don't count the first day we get here as a real day, because we don't do a whole lot. But today is the day we started workshops, which marks the real work time. I have my initial, two-day workshop with Paula McClain, which so far is AWESOME--I also have her a mentor this semester, which I'm really excited about. I just really enjoy her poetry, and now I can say that I enjoy her no-nonsenseness about workshopping and poetry and writing in general. She just insists that you work. I need that.

So for anyone out there reading this that actually knows what I'm talking about, I workshopped a sestina today. Actually it's a psuedo-sestina, because it doesn't *exactly* follow sestina rules, but it's close enough for government cheese. Anyway, it was great to hear a different perspective, a "no-nonsense" perspective. It was good to be told I'm being ambitious in my writing, since that has, in the past, been the last thing I would accuse myself of. I am so used to the safe route, but let me tell you--the safe ones don't get far in this business. Just like in music or acting or any other profession that technically requires public approval for you to move up, you have to make yourself stand out. Frankly I'm wondering if I have the energy and the chutzpah to be this ambitious all the time! LOL If I could attach a file, I'd let you read the draft that currently stands. Maybe tomorrow after I've had time to think more about and make some revisions, I'll post them here.

It's just awesome being in a place where you don't have to think about other stuff....for now, it's just poetry. That's your life for ten days. I get so much done while I'm here....sometimes at home I struggle for inspiration, but never here. I need to find a way to bottle this and bring it with me wherever I go!

101 Reasons Why Driving is Better Than Flying

2005-06-23T10:17:00.000-04:00

So, I'm in Boston right now. Yes, Boston. My NEC residency starts today (it's about an hour and a half away, I plan to leave in about an hour to hit registration on time) so I came out a few days early to spend time with Stef in Boston. I have never been here before and I must say it's interesting and different than I expected. First--I get the impression that what I would normally consider a "rough" neighborhood is not rough at all here. Hence, second, people walk and take public transportation all the time. When Stef explained that she has about an hour's commute, give or take, to work and school, and that she has to walk to the bus stop, wait for the bus, take the bus to the train station, and then take the train into town and walk the rest of the way to her destination, I was floored. But of course, after having driven through Boston to get to her house, I can see why no one in their right mind would want to deal with having a car here.

So the reason I drove out here instead of flying is that airline prices are unfathomable right now. Really, it was close to $500 for a round trip ticket out here. Out of Detroit. If I wanted to fly out of Kalamazoo, it would have been even more. So I said to hell with it, and set out on my own little driving adventure. My mother bought me a Maglight to take with me in case of emergency (car trouble or if I'm being harassed) and also pointed out that it's red to match my car. So if I have to bash someone over the head with it, at least I can know I'm doing so in a very aesthetic and fashionable way.

And you know what? Driving is the only way to go. I don't know how I'd feel about doing it in the winter, but at least this time of year, it's awesome. I made the trip from Detroit to Boston in about 11-12 hours, with two or three rest stops/gas fill-ups. It was great to be in control of every aspect of my trip...the whens and wheres...excellent.

We went shopping in the Haymarket on Tuesday, which was great. There's a Holocaust memorial there that we passed through....wow. I always have a bittersweet feeling about memorials....it seems like they only garner a little bit of interest when they're new, and after that they're almost completely ignored....thus defeating the purpose of having a memorial. This one absolutely commands your attention. We saw it during the day, obviously, but Stef tells me that at night it's lit up and these puffs of steam are pumped out of grates in the ground as you walk through....even during the day as you walk through it you feel the heat of the steam and it's like you're in one of those gas chambers in a death camp. How much more gut wrenching can they get?

So soon I will be on my way up to Henniker for another 10 days of intense poetry madness. I've got to finish putting my stuff away and loading up the car. Thankfully this time I have brought an air mattress so I don't have to sleep on those stone slabs....I mean beds.

Nearing my Mid-to-Late Twenties

2005-06-04T22:03:00.000-04:00

So happy birthday me, as of Wednesday I will be 26 years old. I'm happy to say I'm actually having a party of some sort this year.....mostly it will be a hodge podge of friends new, old, new-old, and old-new. I'm just so excited to have people over to my house....some who've never been....or haven't for a long time. As usual you wonder how the different groups of friends are going to get along, but most of the people I know and associate with these days are gregarious and outgoing enough that I think everyone will get along fine. But oh, the cleaning that needs to be done.

So, as far as car stuff goes, I fell out of qualifications as of Tuesday, but I'm back in the game already. Basically it just means I have to start over. I'm also going DIQ, so hooray, as if I could get any more focused on MK right now. But this is a good time, since I don't have homework or anything officially to worry about until the next residency (except for those two papers I still have to write ;) ).

I talked to Shannon yesterday, which was marvelous.....I really miss her. I wish she could come "home" (it's not really her home here, but it was to me!) next weekend, but I know I'll see her soon. She has kicked her hubby to the curb, at last....this is one of those instances where you like the guy well enough, but he has some serious issues that prevent you from liking him in the role he's currently playing, i.e. husband to your good friend and father to their child. He's nice enough.....but needs to grow up in a few areas.

I still feel on edge these days.....I wish I could just relax a bit, but it's so hard sometimes, with all that's going on. Is this what adult life's supposed to be like? Crazy worry?

Almost June Already

2005-05-24T12:37:00.000-04:00

I can't believe how fast the last six months have gone. It's nearly June already. Where did the time go? I'm finishing up my last packet for school this week. It'll be my birthday in two weeks (PS open invitation to the party at my house on the 11th).

It feels like there is so much in the air right now....maybe partly because it's spring, of course, but I mean like the feelings of change are all over the place. Change for me, change for my friends. I think that spring is a time when we all kind of "wake up" from the winter and as the snow melts off the ground, we get to see the grass again and in the same way we kind of get a glimpse of ourselves again, and sometimes we don't like what we see....did I explain that well? I hope it's not too muddy.

I like a lot of what I see in myself right now. There are a few things still to work on, and of course some long-term projects, but I think about where I was six months ago and where I am now, and it's like night and day. I had a very reaffirming phone call last week with someone I worked alongside at the church, who said that she had wanted to take me out for coffee or something before I left, to tell me that she understood the real reason why I was going. Yes, it was about school and needing to focus on that, but as much as that was a pull factor there were also tons of PUSH factors urging me to get the heck out of there. She said she couldn't get involved because she serves as a denominational representative and because of all the political-like implications that would have, she kept her mouth shut. But it felt great to hear someone else say that they saw what I was going through, that it really wasn't just me being unable to deal. Okay, it was me being unable to deal, but this was a choice of whether or not it was even worth it to deal, and I decided it wasn't anymore.

I'd like to refocus on my own personal health and balance, but that's coming along with everything else. It's funny when you have so much else going on and it's all great, how easy it is to overlook something as important as being healthy and in shape. I need to get running again now that the weather's nice. In addition, my own personal habit of being incredibly messy has kind of come to a head with me being home a lot of the time, and I know it drives Ryan nuts and it's beginning to drive me nuts as well. So that needs work.

Well, I'm going to finish up revising this poem and then Sarah Storbeck's coming over at 1:00. Hooray!

Bleah

2005-05-12T22:38:00.000-04:00

So for the last week I have felt like poo. I mean in the mental sense. It must have something to do with the full moon, and maybe PMS, and who the heck knows what else, but I just feel like a frumpy lumpy lame head. It's better when I'm being social.....in a minimal kind of way.....like just being somewhere where there are other people around, with little demand on my actual participation. Or talking on the phone--that kind of thing. That helps. When I'm home alone, I really just feel like being in bed all the time. I don't know why this is. I hope it passes soon.

I've had to tell myself that this is the week where I need to focus on other people. I have 2 team members debuting this week--would have been 3 if Jennifer hadn't gotten sick, so hers will be next Tuesday. I am focusing on them, on their needs, because that's important. I am also important, but I know that the energy I put into helping these women get started will not only help them, but help me too in the long run. It's just one big circle....the love you put out comes back to you.

I DID IT!!

2005-05-02T13:02:00.000-04:00

Yes indeed, I finally did it.....I finished my first month of car qualifications, so by the end of July I will have qualified for a brand new, totally free, fully loaded red Pontiac Vibe. My only gripe is that the car is called a Vibe, but hey, if it's free, I don't care if they call it a 'Rator. ;) (it is, though, a candidate in my list of what I would have as my vanity plate)

So now the next three months I am going to have to kick it into high gear. Which ought to be interesting considering how much I'm going to be out of town in June and July. But maybe I will be done before then, if everything goes well. I just wish I'd have the car before my residency in late June, so I could drive to New Hampshire instead of fly. It'd save on stress, that's for sure, if my trip is anything like it was in January.

And yes, I did get my packet done for school too, despite my utter focus on other things!

So lately Ryan's been really excited about the new movie coming out later this year that's based on a TV series that he and his friends love, but didn't even last a whole season, I think. It's called Firefly and was a creation of Joss Whedon, the same guy who did Buffy the Vampire Slayer which I never watched but I understand was surprisingly good. The whole series is available for purchase on DVD now, and of course Ryan has the set. He's watched them tons of times, but I decided last night to give it its fair chance, even though I'm not really into sci-fi. And (here it is, in writing) they are not that bad at all. Good writing, actually. I don't think I'd ever get as into them as Ryan and his friends, but I have to admit they're worthwhile and it's too bad they got taken off the air. I still reserve the right to tease the guys about this though. :)

Concentration Minimal

2005-04-29T11:55:00.000-04:00

Yeah, can't remember when I've been this antsy. It's a huge week, being month-end (very important in the MK world, and since I am THIS close--envision me gesturing with my thumb and fingers about 2 millimeters--to going on target, I'm on tenterhooks waiting to see what happens) AND I have a packet due that needs to go in the mail tomorrow if it's going to make it to Judith on time. So I have papers to write here, and I'm sitting at the computer, and it is just not happening. At least not very quickly.

And I really wanted to get done so that I could go to Lansing to my old high school--yeah, you might want to engrave those words on a stone somewhere, because I may never say them again--they're having a Cyrano de Bergerac festival, which I think sounds cool, complete with pieces of the play enacted, French music and food, all that good stuff. It's also functioning in part as a retirement celebration for Mr. Spagnuolo, who was an institution in that institution and I cannot believe he's retiring. Maybe we'll actually find out how old he really is. Maybe not. Spag was the one who really endeared me to literature and poetry in particular....taught me how to really read poetry, not just skim it over and say, "yup, that's good." I was in touch with a teacher I had in high school that I was close to--she also directed the drama program there, which is how we got to know each other--and she's taking a leave of absence right now, but she's going to be there and I'd like to see her. PLUS, the person subbing for her, and who coordinated this festival, is none other than my old best friend, LeeAnn. We fell out of touch after high school and I've always wondered how she was doing, but didn't know how to get ahold of her after she moved out of her parents' house. So I'm dying to see her. But I just can't go unless I get this frikkin' packet done! Rarr!!!

Quote of the day

2005-04-26T17:18:00.000-04:00

"Nothing worth anything is microwaveable." --Lori McLain

So true, so true.

We live in such a "get it, get it now" world....if it's not fast, it's just too much to bother with. I see it in myself too, in my impatience, and I don't like it. Everything I have in my life that's worthwhile is something that came out of hard work, patience, and perseverence. And what I continue to grow and work on is what gets better. Relationships, myself, my writing....you just can't expect things to come easily without working for it.

I hope, if anyone's out there reading this, that this has been a little breath of fresh air. :)

Once again, caught red-headed...I mean, handed

2005-04-25T15:04:00.000-04:00

Stole from John again. And no, I haven't dyed my hair again, contrary to the clever title. I'm thinking these days about doing blond highlights rather than a full-out dye.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
001. Writing poetry...oh wait, I kind of have to do that. Can it still be a hobby?
002. Watching movies.
003. Making money. Really!
THREE THINGS YOU WANT REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
001. To go on target for my car this month.
002. Some cheesecake.
003. To have another weekend with my husband like the one we had a week ago.
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
001. Writing poetry....oh wait, that doesn't pay anything at all. Next!
002. Teaching poetry....that's a little better.
003. Mary Kay...believe it or not.
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
001. Ireland, again
002. Italy
003. New York City, again
THREE KID'S NAMES:
001. Ella Joy
002. Bridget
003. Robert Jesse William Dean Arthur Carl Andrew Ming Xiao something or other boy's name
THREE WAYS I AM STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
001. My interest in hockey, and how I actually have learned more Redwings trivia in the last 3 years than my husband learned in a lifetime of being a fan.
002. I like lifting weights.
003. I think Wheat Thins and grapes constitute a fairly healthy meal.
THREE WAYS I AM STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL:
001. I know and understand skin care.
002. I like the colors pink and purple.
003. Chocolate and a movie featuring an attractive male lead will begin to solve most any problem....followed by an hour-long discussion about my feelings and a good cry.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
001. Have a published book.
002. Travel to Europe with my husband.
003. Own a home and decorate it any way I want.

That Was Quick

2005-04-19T16:05:00.000-04:00

So we have a new Pope now. I'm not Catholic, but I've been following along bit by bit. I'm kind of angry that they chose the person they did. Even if he's not my religious leader per se, the Pope has a huge presence no matter where you go, and now they've gone and chosen someone who is a "traditionalist"....in other words we are going in a backslide. So much for progress.

You know, I usually keep my political views to myself. It's not that I'm uninformed, or that I don't feel strongly about things, but I have never appreciated it when someone else lit into me uninvited with their opinions, so I usually wait until I feel I can share without causing conflict. Know your audience, so to speak. I know there are people with whom I really don't ever want to talk politics or current events, because it will just be a lot of head-butting and even some hurt feelings. Actually one of my favorite people to talk to is Shannon, who, amazingly enough, classifies herself as a Republican. You'd think that would be a turnoff for me, but Shannon is the kind of Republican that more Republicans need to be like. She's educated, she knows the issues, and she has both understanding and respect for people who don't share her opinions. On our train trip to Chicago last year, we spent nearly the entire trip there discussing our opinions and at the end we both felt like we'd learned something. In truth, she's pretty liberal when it comes to human/civil rights issues, which I think gives us some common ground to start on, but she generally votes Republican on issues of policy.

And in truth, I don't always like to identify myself as a "Democrat," because there are some frikkin' scary Democrats out there. Democrats also have a habit of wanting to save everyone, rather than teach them to save themselves and actually addressing the illness, not the symptoms. I wish there was a political party for people who just think that people should all be treated equally in practice and in law, that Americans need to stop being so arrogant, and that your religion is a CHOICE.

Which brings me back to the original topic of this post....and the reason I don't talk politics (or religion, for that matter) with a lot of people. Because the trouble I've found with discussing these things with more Republican/conservative/whatever name you want to give them people is this: in the world I live in, people have a right to choose their own lifestyles (provided, of course, that they aren't hurting someone or infringing on their rights). In the world these others appear to live in, people don't. Or maybe they have a right to choose these things, but they will be judged, ostracized, even condemned to hell--which is just as good as saying they can't choose. Isn't it?? So talking to some people like this is like talking to a wall--when I say choice, they say But God Says.

This is something I struggle with in Mary Kay. I love the women I work with so much--they are probably the most awesome, smart, professional, fun women to be around you can imagine. All ages, all shapes and sizes. However, MK is technically a Christian-based company, so there is a lot of that to contend with. And honestly I don't have a problem with people being Christian. Because, as I've said, in the world I live in, people can choose. And this is why I chose to involve myself with the company anyway, because there are a lot of "Christian values" that are really just good ways to live your life, in my opinion--doesn't matter where they come from, they just make sense. Like treating people nicely, being honest, stuff like that.

But in hanging out with these women socially I find I have to bite my tongue a lot....I have to watch myself. At home, Ryan and I can talk about how oppressive it is for him sometimes to work in Allegan, which is an extremely right-wing, conservative area. He's this little blue fleck in a red county. When I go to meeting next Monday, I may hear a few side remarks about how pleased they are that a "traditionalist" Pope has been selected. When I hear "traditionalist," my heart just dies. It really does.

Because in my mind (and here I go, I'll finally say what I think), being "traditional" means ignoring the fact that the world is the way it is. It means not updating your mind, not reevaluating your beliefs, even in the face of outright experience. I know some people would argue that that's what "faith" is....and I really don't think so. To me, faith is something you have in God--and yes, God is timeless and unchanging--not in a book, not in the human representatives of God (who are human, after all, and therefore subject to not really being so godly). I myself have a lot of faith. And I think God "speaks" to people in more than just the Bible. And I trust myself in that, because I was a religious studies minor in college and did extensive research on the origins of today's Bible.

After the election in November, I got in a rather serious discussion with someone about the phrase "voting one's conscience." I was overwrought and couldn't help myself, so I wrote about my grief over the election results on a message board that I frequent. A woman who I've known for some time wrote back about how she couldn't be expected to vote against her conscience, could she? And all I could say back was, the question on the ballot wasn't, "do you think that homosexuality is an abomination before the eyes of God?" or "Is it good or bad to be gay?" It was about whether or not you feel you have the right to legislate your religious beliefs onto other people. And unfortunately, a lot of people in this country think they do.

And apparently so do a lot of people in Rome, because they've just gone and elected someone who also believes that what he is going to do is bring this poor, sin-ridden world back to basics....back to where we had abortions in dark alleys with dirty coathangers, or where women preferred to kill themselves rather than admit that they were raped, and where no one, and I mean no one, admits their homosexuality at the risk of being run out of town on a rail. Because, heaven forbid (really!), people would be able to make choices.

I don't even know where I'm going with this anymore....my brain is just whirring. rant/bitch/moan.....

Big Slacker

2005-04-19T10:36:00.000-04:00

You see? I am a big slacker. I have not written here in nearly a month. I apologize to anyone who was waiting breathlessly for the next installment of my life. ;)

Actually for the last week I have been laid up with a cold--very irritating, particularly because it caused me to lose my voice. My voice is very closely linked to my ability to earn my keep, so that was frustrating. But all in all I guess I've fended it off relatively quickly and I'm almost back to normal. At least no one thinks they've gotten the wrong number when they call me anymore (I love you Sara Mangus!).

I can't believe how great the weather here is now. Last weekend I had the good fortune to have two appointments cancel on me (this was good, I needed the weekend to recover and fully get rid of this cold), so we had probably the best weekend we've had in ages. Ryan didn't have any plans either, so we did whatever around the house, cleaning and what not, and went over to a barbecue at Jon and Melissa's after spending the afternoon in a park (awwwwww), and just relaxed all Sunday at home. Ryan got to work on his writing, which was much needed, and I got to not work on anything, which was also much needed. I think I may go for a walk today since the weather has continued.

I'm also excited because--yay!--the Euphonics have a concert this week and I actually am able to go. It's a very weird feeling to go back to Albion these days--because I am sufficiently old enough that I don't know anybody anymore, so the only chances I have of running into someone I do know is if there are any professors wandering around. I likened it once to the place actually being haunted....like all my good memories there are in the past, and even though I'm in the same places where those memories were made, all the people involved are gone and so it's like an echo in my head of what used to be there. And there have been changes to the campus since I graduated, of course, so it looks somewhat different--it's still jarring! That big, honking admin building that looms over the quad--scary! I remember times in the summer, if I had a few weeks before school let back in after I got back from tour, I'd actually go to the campus just to be there....even though no one else was there.....I'd just go sit on the quad and feel at home. That's why homecoming will always have a special place in my heart. Because then all the people that you knew are BACK, and you're all in the same place again, and it's awesome. Zach Constan actually still teaches there as an adjunct, so back when there was a Palenske Hall (I have no idea what they're doing with all those buildings over there) he'd take us up to see his office and I got to check and see that yes, my name is still written on a men's bathroom wall on the second floor. ;) It was there for literally 2-3 years, I went back to check each time...don't they ever paint anything around there?

Anyhoo....in other news, Kevin and Aimee found a house they want to put an offer on. This is after physically, literally touring at least 30 others. The bonus is that it's just down the street from Jon and Melissa's, which will work out nicely for Ryan and me. We joke around that in a couple years when we're ready to buy a house, we'll start looking on that street first. LOL If only Geoff and Shawn didn't live in Climax, we could start our own little neighborhood. Yes, they live in Climax. Bah dum dum. On the other hand, my dad's made it VERY clear that he wishes we all lived closer together, and of course I do too....I just don't want to live in Lansing! I grew up there, it's really not a great place to live. Not compared to here. It's too much of a city, not enough community and certainly not a lot of culture to be had that I'm aware of. Maybe if you go into East Lansing and on MSU's campus. But Lansing proper--nah. There's talk that my bro and his family will be moving to the Lansing area perhaps, and if that happens I will be feeling very pressured to do the same....but I don't know. If I go on for my Ph.D. then that's a whole 'nuther story. They don't have low-residency Ph.D. programs that I'm aware of, so it will likely require a move.

OH! that reminds me. I also got accepted to Bennington College into their MFA program.....a little late there, boys! Well, actually not, they're operating on a regular school admissions schedule whereas NEC doesn't/didn't. But it's still a feather in my cap to be accepted, they're a pretty well-known school in the field. :)

Sorry

2005-03-23T22:24:00.000-05:00

Okay, the pics in that last one are huge and I don't know why. I resized them, or so I thought....rar. Well, enjoy them in all their glorious hugeness.

I was in Albion today to have dinner with Laura Gessford--I mean, Kiernan (sorry hun, you'll always been Laura Gessford to me! ;) ) at--yay!--Charlie's. But it didn't sit well with me....I must be out of the practice of eating deep fried fat. Oh well. I also thought the SAI chapter was having their American Composers concert tonight, but that didn't happen. Very confused, I was.

Last weekend was AWESOME. I went to Career Conference in Lansing, which was my first big MK event and let me tell you, it was worth it. Besides getting a free microdermabrasion kit (yay again!), it was just about the most fun I'd had in awhile. Can't remember a time I was ever in a room with 300 women and they were all happy. Come to think of it, I rarely am in a room with 3 women who are all happy at the same time. So you can guess how odd and fantastic this was. I also ran into Jody Vinic there, who I guess just recently signed as a consultant--that was exciting. I got her number so we can catch up--it's been awhile to say the least.

I also met a really awesome girl recently named Michelle, and she's one of those people who just makes you happy. She made me happy professionally after attending a meeting with me and buying a whole lot of stuff, clearly, but she's just got this awesome personality. And she lives like five minutes away from me, so I'm hoping we can strike up a friendship apart from our new business one. She's kind of interested in doing the business herself, but even aside from that, she just seems cool. She's a dancer and finishing her teaching degree at Western. And holy cow do we have a lot in common. She's also getting married, which is how I met her (she was a lead from David's Bridal)--and her future mother-in-law said to me at the store when I met them that her son had said, when he was something like six or seven years old, that he was going to marry Michelle. And now he is! How sweet is that?

Not really sure what I'm going to be doing this weekend. It's still kind of up in the air. I don't have any set holiday plans or anything, and Ryan's out of town now on vacation with his sister. I am almost in awe of how much I already miss him. It sounds corny and sappy to me even now as I write it, but it's real. It's like having the other half of you gone. I imagine this is how he felt when I went to school in NH in January. That trip was the longest we'd ever been apart since the early days before he moved here (and even then we made an effort to see each other most weekends, throwing all fuel conservation and budget constraints to the wind). Now he's going to be gone for a week. And I am so tempted to hire Jessica Horste to clean my house so that I don't have to deal with it.

On the up side, he did take Civilizations III away with him to give back to Kevin, so I don't have that distraction anymore. Man, that game is like crack. And it's not even that exciting. Yet you're still glued to it! I seriously spent more hours on that game than I think I spent studying this week. Yuck! Which means I'm really going to have to knuckle down tomorrow and Friday so that I don't freak out next week when I have to mail my next packet in.

My Wedding: A Photodocumentary

2005-03-17T09:12:00.000-05:00

For those of you who weren't in attendance, or those of you who just want to relive it (and who wouldn't?), here you go!

From my bachelorette party, thrown by the illustrious matron of honor/"best woman," Aimee Lewis....

Yes, that is a cup shaped like a gigantic penis, and yes I am drinking out of it. I was a good sport about this bachelorette thing, let me tell you.

The scary man at the karaoke bar who was trying to tell me that the key to a successful marriage is something along the lines of being able to stand in the bathroom while the other one takes a poop. He was a strange, strange man.

Singing "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" with Stefanie. We also all sang "Bohemian Rhapsody" as a group (Dana: "Who's Queen, and why are they singing about killing someone?")

Let us not forget the penis-shaped jello shots that awaited us when we returned to Aimee's house.

Or the lingerie.

Getting my hair done the morning of the wedding.

The finished product. :)

Don't really know what I was trying to talk about, but I hope I gave up on it quickly.

Dana fixing my shoe!

The Guys.

The girls.

I emerge from the bathroom.

It was extremely sunny that day. I got a sunburn even!

The Magic Moment, or the Point of No Return--as you will. ;)

Actually I got lots of kisses!

Ryan and Kevin are very close indeed.....

Dancing with my dad to "So Happy Together" by the Turtles.

Ryan's friends doing their choreographed number....(somewhere there exists a picture of my reaction to this, but I can't find it right now)

Dancing together. :)

The Euphonics performing at the reception.

The fathers, apparently discussing my dowry or what continents they would like to take over....???

Got a serenade from all the Phi Mu Alphas in the room. :)

Wheee! Being married is awesome!!

I'm a thief!

2005-03-15T09:15:00.000-05:00

I stole this stuff from John. But since he stole it from someone else, I guess that makes it more like freeware than stealing.

A - AGE: 25.75
B - BAND LISTENED TO MOST RECENTLY: Actually it was Sara Mangus's compilation CD, which had a lot of stuff on it.
C- CRUSH: I think I'll always have a thing for Tobey Maguire.
D - DOG's NAME: Don't have one, but I do have two cats named Willow and Joey.
E - EASIEST PERSON TO TALK TO: Probably Sara, if you're talking girlfriends (Ryan, of course, ranks very high as well).
F - FAVORITE BAND: All time? Geez, um....Queen probably.
G - GUMMY: gotta go with the worms.
H - HOMETOWN: Lansing, MI, with a stint in Albion, MI, followed by taking up residence in Portage, MI.
I - INSTRUMENT: I play the piano, the guitar, and the flute all very badly, but I do sing decently well.
J - JUICE: orange.
K - KIDS: None as of yet. We are pretty much in agreement that our first daughter will probably be named Ella Joy, but we're still struggling on guy's names. Last we tried to figure that out, he ended up being named "Ming Xiao," after the Ming Dynasty (that's pronounced Ming di-Nasty) Chinese restaurant we were passing at the time. Needless to say, we'll keep looking.
L - LONGEST CAR RIDE: Lansing to Mystic, CT when I was 15; Orlando to Grand Rapids, MI when I was 18.
M - MOM'S NAME: Marcia Ann
N - NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: One (half) bro.
O - ONE WISH: That all my friends find happiness for themselves in whatever fields they most desire it (career, relationships, etc.).
P - PHOBIA(S): Needles. I absolutely cannot stand them. And by extension, stupid loser doctors and nurses who tell me "it doesn't hurt." I want to punch them in the eye when they say that.
Q - QUOTE: "What you resist, persists. What you look at goes away."
R - REASON TO SMILE: I wake up to a very handsome man who loves me every day~I don't have to go to a stupid job~I have time to write and read now~I have great people in my life~the list is endless....
S - SEXIEST FEATURE: Shouldn't you really be asking someone else this? Okay, in my opinion, my eyes. Then maybe my boobs (they aren't sexy to me, but I am of the understanding that the opposite sex finds them appealing).
T - TIME YOU WAKE UP: 9:00 a.m.
U - UNKNOWN FACT ABOUT ME: I had to think about this one a lot! The truth is there are very few. Okay, here goes: I once got kicked out the fountain at Epcot when I was playing in it with a few other people.
V - VEGETABLE YOU HATE: zucchini
W - WORST HABIT(S): Being a slob, not returning phone calls promptly
X - X-RAYS YOU'VE HAD: Let's see.....teeth, chest x-ray in 6th grade when I had pneumonia, arm x-ray when I broke my wrist (also in 6th grade), my big toe when I was a senior in college because it was suspected broken, and 2 ultrasounds the year after college to determine the cause of some mystery chronic pelvic pain I was having.
Y - YUCKY FOOD: I'm a texture eater....I don't like food that's slimy or squishy or has stuff squirt out of it when you eat it (like jelly donuts).
Z - ZODIAC SIGN: Gemini

And the question for you today, also stolen from John is, if you woke up and I was in bed with you, what would your first thought be? (this ought to be interesting)

A Disowned Part of Myself

2005-03-10T20:40:00.000-05:00

I been thinkin' a lot lately (ha, yeah right, when aren't I thinking a lot?)....I did this writing exercise with Beth that I found in a book, which was basically to probe your memories and write down instances you remember according to different prompts. They were pretty generic--i.e. remember your first romantic attraction, a childhood memory that involves water, something that humiliated you, something that made you laugh out loud, a time you felt threatened....the usual, the things where you hopefully would have memories significant enough to hang on to.

This was great, because it took us literally an hour to do, even though there were only twelve or so prompts. Because each time we'd start giggling to ourselves as we wrote down our memories, and then we'd have to tell each other the stories. Great getting to you know stuff, a lot like that game, Loaded Questions. But for some reason my experiences in the Albion Nature Center came up....and I hadn't thought about them in years....those times freshman and sophomore years that I went down there (I can't recall ever going down there at any other time, because clearly I didn't want to).

And then today someone had brought up something that verged on the possibly clairvoyant, or at least occultish, that they were experiencing, and I remember the Nature Center again. I remember actually writing a tragically long poem, or series of poems, about it. That place moved me and opened my mind up to parts of me that I really didn't know what to do with.

The thing is, I believe in stuff like that. Spooky, paranormal, whatever you want to call it--not like wicca or anything, just I think that it's all inside of us in one form or another. I think there's a lot to each of us that never even gets tapped. People think I'm weird even when I say I believe in ghosts. So usually I don't share that I believe in, or at least am not willing to discount, a lot more than that.

Ryan and I had a great talk about this on the way home from my brother's house (by the way, my nephew has christened me "Tee"--I believe it's short for "auntie"). About the possibility of an afterlife, what different religions have to say, and what we think. Part of it was spurred by the fact he just finished reading The Lovely Bones which is an amazing take on the subject of the afterlife. I just think there's more out there than what we're taught to think along the traditional Judeo-Christian lines....I'd like to think it's more like in the book....that heaven is really something you create yourself. So there would be such a thing as hell, if you thought that was what you deserved and that's what you built up around yourself. But there's no God condemning you to it--it's your choice. Just as on earth, in life. And also like in life, no one else is really affected by it but you. It's a hell of your own design and has a population of one.

So anyway, I was thinking about the Nature Center, and all the stuff I experienced there. Not all of it bad, in fairness, but a lot of it strange and new. And there were a lot of people at that time who were very eager to tell me what was what, and I think that's what turned me off....they seemed too self-assured and self-important to actually be knowledgable....like they just liked to talk a good line....and I was afraid to end up like them. I didn't want to be in their crowd. So I ran away from it all.

For instance, a lot of people in my life now don't know that I read palms. I do! (that'll do for my confession of the week) I started learning in a book because I was intrigued, but then I threw the book aside in favor of intuition. And let me tell you, I was good at it.

See, it even feels weird admitting it here, like someone's going to think I'm a freak. Whatever. I just feel like remembering it. And like I said, I think there's a lot to all of us that we disown, that we're afraid to explore, or that we never get reminded that we have. I remember standing in that open field in the NC, and feeling wave upon wave of....whatever you want to call it....energy, emotion, something....washing over me. Powerful and scary. And the time when I went to sit on the big white rock way in the back, and felt so peaceful that I fell asleep, and when I woke up, a deer had come out of the woods and was only about 30-40 feet away from me.

I guess I feel like I want to reconcile these experiences with my otherwise mundane life, to find a way that they can coexist. It's funny when you believe in a lot of things and it doesn't always seem like they would go together, even if they're not in direct opposition.

Anyway, I'm battling a cold and so I'd better get to bed before I think myself into a fever.

Old Journals = Ripe Nostalgia

2005-03-02T17:58:00.000-05:00

Do you ever go back and reread something you wrote a long time ago? I found one of my old journals, the one from a few years back that I wrote in between 2001 and 2003. In my journals, I usually don't chronicle events as much as just let my mind meander and THINK about the events. And it was like walking around, say in a mall, and noticing a reflection in a window or mirror and saying, "wow, look at that person! She/he looks really awesome!" and then realizing, it's you! Kind of the same equivalent. There were a lot of good lessons I learned over those years, and I'm glad I wrote them down, because of course by now they've been bumped to the back of my mind, and now they're back in the front, where arguably they should be all the time.

Of particular note were the sections I wrote when I had just started my job at the church.....June of 2001.....rar! I had quit a temp job elsewhere to take the permanent position the church was offering me. They had advertised it as a creative position. After working there for three and a half years, I still fail to see where the creativity bit came into play, unless you count finding creative ways to nicely tell people to shove it so that they won't notice. I went down there today--Teressa, my replacement, finally broke down and called me to come and fix the voice mail system--and noticed she was getting a little harried. A month or two ago she was fine, when I called to get insurance stuff squared away. Now it's a different story. She mentioned they'd been hassling her about the voice mail and (although she didn't say this, it was pretty clear) making her feel incompetent. I just knew exactly what she was going through. I started that job bright eyed and enthusiastic, and within six months I knew this wasn't what it was cracked up to be. I mean, if you look at what I wrote in my journal, I thought this was an awesome, unique place to work. Now I can't believe I stayed there so long.

I ran into Sarah Storbeck at Meijer's yesterday, which was nice. She seems very busy, but since she doesn't live far from me we exchanged phone numbers and hopefully we'll get together sometime soon. I'm under the impression she works a lot. So I guess this is like the week (or two) of running into/talking to people you haven't seen or talked to in a long time!

I was bummed on out Saturday that I didn't get to go see Cabaret at Albion, when I'd already gotten tickets. I got a migraine--great timing--and Aimee, who was going to go with me, has laryngitis or something--at any rate, she can't talk at all....so we just didn't go, and stayed in our respective homes and tried to entertain ourselves. I'd been looking forward to it all week too. My SAI girls were really wanting me to come. It's all they talked about when I visited the chapter in January.

And I am, of course, writing this when I should be on the phone booking appointments, but of course I'm slacking. It's too cold in here to concentrate! It's been snowing all day. Okay, if I get my work done I can finish that SNL Best of Christopher Walken DVD Kevin got us. That's my reward. :)

2005-02-27T17:23:00.000-05:00

Today I went to meet up with Beth for our "writer's workshop." Which is really where we get together, maybe share some writing, and mostly just talk over tasty beverages at Water Street. Actually I'd say today we were quite focused. We're looking to get new members into the group, because the bulk of them currently don't reside within driving distance of Kalamazoo (we have a Yahoo group so that most anyone can participate by posting their work and receiving comments that way). There are other writing groups in the area, of course, but we've both been in and out of those and never found anything quite to our flavor. So we started our own!

I'm also geeked out because next weekend we're going to my brother's house to hang out with them--it was my dad's and my brother's birthday in February, and my parents are celebrating their anniversary in early March, so we're going to do a mass sleepover celebration-thing. Aaaaand I get to hang out with Zachary and be an auntie. :) Apparently he found their trip to Florida very stimulating and has been talking a lot since. Hard to believe he's almost 2 1/2 now....that that much time has passed....it was 2002 when he was born, I wasn't even signed up to run the marathon in Alaska, and hadn't even gone to Ireland with Stef yet (he was born on October 10, and I believe I left maybe a week or two later). Seems like ages ago. Speaking of trips with Stef, that reminds me, I think she and Laura are planning something fun for this spring for the three of us. Nothing for sure yet, but it'd be awesome to take like a road trip with them or something. Dana and Ryan are going on a brother-sister road trip at the end of March, on her spring break, and I wish I could go, but this is their sibling bonding time and I wouldn't want to interfere with that. Something tells me she needs time with her big brother, just the two of them. I think a lot of learning will come of it, from her.

Even though I can remember what it was like to be 17-18 years old and about to graduate high school, it's hard to put myself in her shoes with the way things are these days. It just seems like a different world. And unfortunately, all she wants to do is party, which isn't scoring her any points with her parents. Now that I can't remember ever wanting to do. I just wasn't a partier--still not, really. I like getting together with friends and just hanging out, but in 4 years of college I really honestly never went to a single frat party. The scene just never appealed to me. Never felt like drinking till I puked and calling it a "good time," certainly never felt like doing any other kinds of substances (although there was that fateful night that I hung out at TKE--not for a party, just with some friends--and I didn't really understand at the time how marijuana works, how you can get high without actually smoking it if you breathe in second-hand smoke...yeah, that was pretty).

And I must somewhat apologize for the recent rant about friendship--even though I stand by what I said, I was having kind of a "moment" there where I was a bit overwrought. I've been dealing with the same feelings for the last few years, in bits and pieces. It came to a small head during the wedding planning, when I was picking bridesmaids and finalizing the guest list....who do you invite? When you have a size limitation because of space and because of money (to be honest), how do you prioritize? Do you invite the people who were important to you, or the people who are now? Or the people you wish were still important to you, even if you've drifted apart? It's agonizing, I tell you, agonizing. Ryan looks at it pretty sensibly, but then again he's older, been out of school longer, so I guess things get clearer as you go on. I was, and am, still kind of attached to "those times." Not exactly in a glory-days kind of way, because really it feels like every year since just gets better and better, but with some nostalgia still. He feels more okay than me with letting people go, if it appears that's the direction they want to head. Like...if it's clearly one-sided....then it really isn't anything, is it? No matter what came before. I see the truth in it, know it's the right thing, even if it's saddening to me.

I sent out my first packet for school--yikes--don't know why I'm so nervous about it, but there you go. I looked over some of my poems with Beth today and clearly see where I could stand to improve them. Sometimes you just need that second set of eyes, even though Beth's not a "poetry" person--it still helps. She's pretty astute.

Off to a birthday party at Jon and Melissa's!

Addendum

2005-02-23T13:08:00.000-05:00

I think I may be the first to be able to honestly say, "the cat ate my homework." Willow is here laying and gnawing on a stack of poems I have for last minute revisions before I have to send the packet in at the end of the week. She's eating my poetry. *shakes head*

Feeling Relatively Ignored, and Other Emotional Crap

2005-02-23T10:44:00.000-05:00

Okay, so this has been a long time in the coming. And since I'm fairly certain no one reads this d*mn thing, I'm just going to go all out. In fact, the only person who may actually read it is the one whom this concerns...or at least who sparked it.

I think I've written this a few times over the years....now it just feels like a general angst. My friend Heidi asked me to join this thing called Friendster. It's one of those "look who you're friends with, and who they're friends with, and maybe you'll have friends in common, or maybe you'll MAKE friends with their friends," etc. So I joined up and started searching to see who is on there already that I could add to my friends list. And there were a fair few people I knew, mostly from Albion. The thing is, to add them to your friends list, they have to add you to theirs. It can only happen mutually. And then I thought, crap. Will these people even know who I am? Because I consider myself friends with lots of people....and would willingly keep up with those friends....but so often I feel like I get shuffled off. Like we were friends by proximity, or something. Or maybe I have a broader definition of friendship. I don't know. But it makes me kind of sad and mad, all at once.

And the other day, I stopped by Albion since I was in the area, and went into the theater to see Starko, who is probably the only person there still on faculty who remembers me--Royal Ward would, of course, but he's busy in the Dean's office. Anyway. And Starko starts rattling off who he's been in touch with over the years since I graduated, and they're all people I knew and thought I was good friends with, and frankly TRIED to keep up with myself, but emails would go unanswered, phone numbers would change with moving and then I wouldn't get the new number, and so on and so forth. I kept wanting to say "IT'S NOT MY FAULT!!" I felt so close, so connected to these people and then look what happened. Apparently I have a great big purple "G" on my forehead, which stands for "graduated," and therefore no one wants to keep in touch.

I know I'm being unfair right now. There are a few people with whom I've kept up a moderate correspondence. In my bitter moment, I'm forgetting that. If you're out there, and reading this, thank you in advance for including yourself in that group. You know who you are.

So this all got kind of brought to a head when I realized that, once again, someone with whom I felt very close with at one point, has chosen to ignore me. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe we were never close....could have fooled me though, and lots of other people, truth be told. I really thought the world of this person--and if he's reading this, good. Call it another exercise in emotional honesty. But it TICKS ME OFF. And maybe it shouldn't....perhaps I should have given up on it long ago....maybe that's what a normal person would do. You fall out of touch, and you stop caring. Is that what's supposed to happen?

It just always seems so bloody one-sided...like I keep trying, and the other person doesn't. Why is that?

And yeah, I'll admit--at one point I had a big ol' crush on this particular person, and I'm sure it wasn't exactly a secret. But newsflash--I'm over it. Clearly. I've been over it, for oh, 3 years or more. Actually, in a twist of irony that I could not have written better myself, it was at an event that I had invited this crush-boy to that I then began developing a relationship with the man who would become my husband, because crush-boy didn't end up coming. Which of course was conflicting for me for a short time, because here was the pull of the thing I'd been wanting but that wasn't manifesting itself, against the pull of something real and good and true and frankly in the present. I went with the latter, and never looked back. I'm happier for it.

And here's the thing. This was the first crush I ever had that was actually based on something, other than random attraction. In my opinion, this person--other than the fact that he appears to have written me out of his life now, which I admit does put a damper on thing--has a lot of really remarkable qualities. And for once I wasn't idolizing either....I saw that he had a few flaws, if you want to call them that....I saw them and I accepted them. But the biggest thing was that I was seeing them, truthfully. And then deciding, on purpose, that he was worth fancying. This was a big turning point for me....a huge lesson. And I also knew that he was worth fancying even if he didn't fancy me at all. An even bigger lesson.

So if what's stopping this person from reinstating a friendship is the old crush issue, he can rest assured that the thing is dead and buried and all I miss now is the laughs. He was fun to be around, to explore with, and I felt very cared for by him at the time. He was there for me as some very big things changed in my life. That means a lot to me. I don't think it's asking a lot to get an email once in awhile, or at the very least a response to one.

Well, poop. That's all the ranting I can muster for one day.

Financial Planning

2005-02-18T14:36:00.000-05:00

So the guy last night was all right. It was REALLY funny, being as aware as I am now about different sales techniques, to mentally dissect his presentation and identify the different components of it. :) He wasn't bad, although he could use a little enthusiasm. You could also tell where he was getting uncomfortable using his baiting questions on his friends. I'd say Ryan handled them swimmingly, so no one got their feelings hurt. It's just that, with me, when I'm in a situation like that and trying to sell to someone I know well, you just have to throw those scripts and stuff out the window (actually, I try to throw them out the window all the time--they just aren't me, for the most part). You have to act like a normal person, as if all you were doing was telling them they "gotta" see this new movie that's come out, it's so great, blah blah blah.

I think I neglected to mention last post that I am selling Mary Kay for a living while in school. That would make the above paragraph make a little more sense, wouldn't it?

Got an email this week from school--a few of the other students just received HUGE prizes for their writing in this new award program that just began in 2004. How awesome is that!?! Like thousands of dollars in cash prizes. I'd workshopped with a couple of them during the residency last month and I must, say, well deserved. It's part of what makes me so excited to be a student at New England College. I'm surrounded by the most awesome, talented people.

Okay--back to writing. Dang paper. ;)

5,278

2005-02-17T16:24:00.000-05:00

...is the number of blogs I have on various sites throughout the internet. Free ones, of course. Livejournal, opendiary, blah de blah de blah....I've just never been good at keeping them, but since I'm home more now and basically live in front of the computer, maybe this time around I'll do better. Plus it seems this is the medium used by most of my friends and acquaintances.

So for anyone who's surfing right now and actually bothering to read this, let me tell you about me. I'm 25 years old, married with no kids and no ideas about kids (however, am auntie to a very precious 2-year-old with zen-like brilliance....I mean the 2-year-old is brilliant, not my auntie skills) but currently living with two cats which is close enough to having kids; I'm in graduate school to finish up my MFA in poetry, and am currently not working at a J.O.B. (journey of the broke) and happy about it! So that's me in a nutshell. I read a lot. I write a lot. Now that I'm not working a job I'll be auditioning for shows again now I have the energy and time to do so....yeah.

My husband of about 4-5 months works for a newspaper. He also dabbles in writing and film directing (of which I wish he'd do more, because he's very good at it). We went to college together, which is how we met originally, about 8 or 9 years ago. Somehow we didn't manage to date until 2001, after I'd just graduated and he'd been graduated for quite some time. We're working on a family website, since our families are kind of spread out over the state, so look for a link to that when it's done, i.e. when I get the time to learn Dreamweaver.

Ugh. This financial advisor guy is coming over tonight to tell us about consolidating loans. I owe quite a bit still from school, and together we have a fair amount of credit card debt, and this guy's a buddy of Ryan's so we're giving him a shot, to at least hear what he suggests. I just don't have a whole lot of trust in the entire idea of debt consolidation companies....because clearly their money has to come from somewhere and it's probably going to be us, if we go that route--thereby making us think we're saving by consolidating, but really we're not. I don't know. I guess that's why I'm willing to hear him out--like I said, he's a friend, not a shark or anything. He'll be fair.

On a happy note, I have painted my nails hot pink. :) So if the financial stuff gets irritating, at least I'll be able to look at my hands and be happy! LOL

Okay, back to reading for school. I have a short paper due next week that I cannot put off any longer if I want to have time to edit it later. Signing out!