Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
I have to write a devotional for my college, and I'm really blocked. This is why I HATE having a subject matter given to me with deadlines. (Kinda like I do to my students all semester long, wut?)
It has to be a Christmas kind of devotional. I was thinking of using Isaiah 9:6 because I love that song, and it's a little off the Christmas Scripture's normally beaten path, though still very much about the first coming of Jesus.
For some reason, I keep thinking of Robert Frost's poem, "Stopping By Woods on Snowy Evening." It feels very Christmas-y to me, what with the snow and harness bells, even if it does have a bit of darkness to it.
This is why I'm not in journalism. That and I never took any courses on journalism. And also because I wrote for publication that one year and hated it-- the deadlines... the bustle... the bylines. Okay, it wasn't all bad.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
I want to dance, I want to montage to it— type on an old typewriter, fold clothes, dance across the room with a dust rag in my hand, exercise, eat healthy, have all of the things I should be doing squished into 3 minutes of rushing, pumping, nonsensical improvement.
Granted, I collect three more tomorrow, present a short workshop on APA, and I will have to regrade revisions next week, but for now? I'm the freest free bird that's ever flown free.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Saturday, December 1, 2012
And this is why I never, ever facebook friend someone from work. Seriously, I used to, and I got rid of them all too, and then made it a point not to friend ANYone from my current place of employment, even though they ALL friend each other. I just say, "Oh, I only use that for family" and triple-double checked that I'd made the page private, seen only by "friends."
High school friends, you're next. I mean, c'mon. We're not interacting, we're visually stalking each other. Period.
But yeah. We are a little different with family than we are with friends, even if it's not drastic BIG differences. And it's stressful trying to remember that and keep it all straight and still interact.
This is why I love tumblr-- it's fresh and I started over and only one person IRL reads it and sees what I repost or write there.
Friday, November 16, 2012
I've got 21 papers to grade by Sunday night. That's not bad. What bothers me is that I will have 29 papers to "re-grade" by Wednesday night before Thanksgiving.
Then I will grade 29 new papers on November 30, and they MUST be turned around by December 4. THEN I will regrade those papers after they've been written between December 8 and December 15.
Add to that 5 more papers for the projects at another school = no life.
I cannot freaking wait for December 21. All grades must be in by then. My life begings again that day.
I will bake, clean, sleep, and watch silly videos. I will catch up on TV and read books, books, books.
It's about a month away... I can do this.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
When you are feeling overwhelmed and exhausted and behind on EVERYthing, try to remember that you feel this way only because you have a husband who genuinely likes spending lots of time with you; kids who want to tell you everything that's going on in their lives and ask your advice; coworkers who want to call you friend and ask your opinion on their projects; and a job where the demand is in direct proportion to how fulfilling it is.
Yeah, remember that as you fall into bed at 11 pm, unprepared for your evaluation with your department chair tomorrow, behind in your course and your grading, and feeling like you didn't give enough attention to your family.
And then remember that Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and then Christmas and those sweet, sweet 3 weeks of vacation filled with family and reading and relaxing.
You got this.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
ALSO. A sterling silver chain with a beautiful designed created sapphire and little white created sapphires... lovely.
And my husband said I should definitely get a tattoo because that would HOT. So. I'm thinking maybe on my foot... a line of poetry. Suggestions welcome. And I'd LOVE to get my sons' names and their birthdays on the inside of my wrist.
Life is so good. Chocolate cake, candles, just the best birthday I honestly think I've ever had.
Forty looks just fine.
Friday, November 2, 2012
But you do NOTHING ELSE. No blogging, no tumblring, no... nothing.
And it seems to have started an avalanche of nothing, because I'm just answering student emails, working in the writing center, spending time with the family, and collecting more papers... no writing happens. NONE.
And it's freaking Nanowrimo, and I was going to participate in my own bastardized version of it-- 1,000 words a day on the WIP and one blog and/or tumblr every other day.
It's not too late... right? After all, I have the day off today, and I WILL grade 6 papers today, but I can also write a little before I do laundry, fold clothes, and hang with the husband and son. (Other son, older son, is at Grandma and Grandpa's.)
Younger son is starting a new school on MONDAY. So psyched about this. He visited and LOVED it! He is my hero for so many reasons, this is just the latest one.
I will now WRITE, darn it.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Microsoft Word wouldn't save my files last night. I would grade a paper, try to save it, and it would say I couldn't due to filetype. It did this with every kind of filetype, no matter what it was. So, I literally spent the entire afternoon/evening trying to figure out what had happened-- I assumed it was a virus. Spent until 10 pm trying to fix it, and finally figured out what was causing it though I still don't know how it started. I graded seven papers and created a presentation and lay down around 2:30, drifted off sometime after 3:30, got up this morning and delivered the presentation (which went REALLY well, so yay), had lunch with my son and came home. And now.
Now I need to grade the rest of one college's papers: 15 and then grade the other college's papers: 14. You know, 29 papers. No... biggie... Write two discussion posts and reply to four people; then create the presentation for that course by Sunday night.
The plan is to grade all of the papers and do one discussion post today.
Then one discussion post and a presentation tomorrow. Then rest on Sunday.
*complain, whine, complain* Sorry. Call me a wambulence.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
1. Grade 21 papers and input midterm grades TONIGHT for one of the colleges I teach for.
2. Create a presentation about turnitin.com which I must present tomorrow.
3. Create a presentation by Sunday night for the TESOL course I am taking.
4. Join in scholarly discussion on the TESOL course and post replies to others by Sunday night.
5. Be mom and dad to the boys tonight... (again?) since Mike has to be with his dad who is back in the hospital.
I'm buying dinner out for the boys and me. I'm going to do my best on the grading-- what else can I do? I'm going to practice my presentation for tomorrow a few times (after I create it, ha).
It's getting to that bad time again. The time when I would foolishly welcome some small surgery, a minor car wreck, anything to give me a chance to stop and actually think about the steps I'm taking and the things people around me are saying.
This is what tired truly is.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Monday, October 8, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
I know, I'll follow these breadcrumbs You left before the beginning of time of Your words, Your deeds, and Your thoughts about me, knowing with each step I'm already there, that we've been at the table from the moment I formed the thought, whispered the words, "I want to come home."
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
I am always in a hurry.
Ever since I was a little girl I've hurried everywhere I went. I don't know how it started, this impatient, speed-walking thing I do, never mind if I'm early, or I have no appointment at all; I feel an implacable desire to make the shortest time in the distance between one place and the next. And it later translated to my driving. I'm always going those five free miles over the speed limit and looking ahead to consider the timing of lights and which lane will have the shorter line, and I don't know why.
Maybe, despite my love of maps, I am not as much a lover of travel as I imagine myself to be. Maybe, despite all of the warnings I've been given, I can't stop making it about the destination.
Or maybe, I just think that something is waiting around the next corner, at the stoplight just ahead and crowding the crosswalk, that thing that I never stop looking for.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
But then someone reaches in past the boundaries you've carefully placed by simply being really sad and in the same space you happen to be in. You say the right words, you make yourself small and quiet, and you hope they don't see you shaking. You shake because when the empathy is on and going full blast, you see how fragile everyone is, they are all brittle bones and weak hearts and shuddering breaths, and you've got to be so careful, so awfully, terribly careful with the wounds they've often unknowingly bared.
And for a few days after an episode like that, I still feel careful with everyone I meet, down to the mere flashing of eyes when I pass them in a hall, because I've been reminded that everyone feels; that there is a world of secret going on behind their crossed arms, and they may need my careful hands and quiet heart today.
And it's exhausting to be so careful, so aware. I sleep the best after the days that I care.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
After church today, I watched Doctor Who and took my son to look at Halloween decorations at the store, then I came home and opened my laptop, and I started writing.
I wrote this scene I'd had in my mind for a while now, and I ended up writing 2400 words. Weird.
I like most of it. But hey, I forgave myself and got it all down. I'm sure it'll be reworked till I want to puke someday, but today is not that day. It's down on paper!
On to the work week.
ETA: And then I thought I'd write this other little scene I've been thinking about and suddenly I've written over 5,000 NEW words today. WHAT?
Friday, September 28, 2012
It's nothing you haven't seen before, another letter from your mom, another bunch of words telling you that you make up the very best parts of me and that I can't imagine the world before you, that separate life of other things that I thought were important.
And I know that when you see this, you might roll your eyes, smile a bit and say, "What did you do now, Mom?" with a sense of indulgence well beyond your years. Sometimes, when I can't hold back and I try again to write about the way you changed the meaning of love and life for me, our roles reverse, and I'm the child with a picture for the fridge, these words that I pick up again and fail at, again.
Because I can't write all of the things you are. I can't say all of the ways I hope for you or make your eyes see the girl I was before you, so you understand how much better you've made me, just by existing.
The world is better because you breathe and move in it. And all I want from you, all I've ever wanted is for you to see what I see, to recognize the miracle you are, and to fulfill the promise your existence makes of a better world.
In other words, be the you God created you to be, as loudly and as colorfully as you dare, make horrible mistakes and get back up, and know that somewhere, high in the stands, I'm watching, shielding my eyes against your quiet brightness, waiting for you to amaze this world by simply, forcefully being yourselves.
ALSO. Go to this tumblr of amazing things. She pairs lines from books with TV shows of today, and it works so awesomely well. Very cool.
And it looks like I'll be full time next semester due to a maternity leave (not mine, haha, one I'm covering) AND I get to teach a young adult literature course! OH YEAH, I SAID IT. And we get to DESIGN IT, YO. Another teacher and I are going to team teach-- she's going to do children's lit, and I'm going to hit young adult. I'm thinking some John Green, maybe some Hunger Games, and we're going to find out if we can do Harry Potter. Oh, and The Outsiders!
Any suggestions, leave them in the comments. I'm thinking I should look at high school required reading and avoid any YA on those lists, you know like Catcher in the Rye, Lois Lowry, A Wrinkle in Time... they will have read most of that. I am the go to girl for amazing off the grid YA literature.
Separated this out because there are a few other people who happen by on occasion and I'd like to hear their thoughts... if they happen by...
p.s. I was in a meeting with associate professors and the chair of the department when this fell into my lap, and we were discussing whether Harry Potter could be considered, and I said, out loud, filter off, "Wait, this is my job? Like you want to pay me for this?" Thank goodness they just laughed, not knowing I totally meant it and would design and teach this class for FREE.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Look, I know the guy at work was older and maybe a little out of touch, but I had just loudly announced, "I haven't seen it, so don't spoil it for me!" Regarding a new show that came on this week... he wasn't listening and proceeded to tell the BIGGEST SPOILER OF THE ENTIRE SERIES. And hey, I'm not asking him not to talk about it, but you know, give me a sec to get out of the room. I just really HATE spoilers.
I picked up The Fault in our Stars by John Green after work today, as something to read while Brad had piano lessons. After what I'd read about it, I wasn't too enthused, but I was going to hear him read in October, so I figured I should read the book I planned to ask him to sign. Thought it would take me a while to get through too-- I just don't like sad. And I suspected sad.
BUT. I laughed quite a bit during this book. I felt all the feels. And I finished it five minutes ago. It was a one nighter for me. It's a solid YA book. Touching, sweet, funny, thoughtful, and yes, sad. Especially reading it as the mother of teenage boys.
And I'm not sick anymore! Feel like a person again! No more puking-- huzzah!
[This paragraph makes no sense, unless you read the blog post I wrote after it... which is technically above it right now.] So, you know, dear readers, all 1.5 of you, give me good, solid but not cliched book ideas. I swear if the world were mine and I had two semesters to teach it, I'd toss in Twilight because it would make a bloody fantastic study on overused tropes and cliches, and anti-feminism, and racism, vamps versus werewolves... I mean that could be super deep... oh, wait, never mind any of this last paragraph-- I'm on Ambien. It was the walrus' idea to include Twilight. He's a kindly and fluffy old gramp, but his ideas are terrible and not well thought out.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Like holding a trash can and... yeah. I haven't been sick like this in YEARS. Please, please be a 24 hour thing... please.
Aaaand I have a fever. I have to go into work tomorrow, no matter what. Oh, bah.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
And it inspired me to do something different. The class is a first year composition course at a college, and its focus is social media. They will be doing a final project in groups, and it's going to involve media in some form, and I can't help thinking that it could have a community base or become a service learning project.
And it feels like the "What Would You Do?" videos could connect to this, but I don't know how right now.
Maybe if they found a local or under-appreciated charity and used social media to promote awareness and a call to action? They could write a new slogan, redesign outdated ads, create a Facebook, Twitter, website... of course they'd have to get permission from the charity-- OR they could keep it all private (which means no Twitter or Tumblr...). Or maybe a local person who is trying to raise money for medical bills?
Monday, September 24, 2012
But it's not. Because amazing things do not wait behind bushes and under corner streetlights for us to happen along as we do nothing other than live. I'm not talking about appreciating the everyday amazing things that happen all around us-- that's a different blog post (and anyway, even those everyday amazing things require action in order to recognize and appreciate the commonplace miracles they are). I'm talking about the amazing things we go through, the revelatory moments that change our lives indefinitely. And I know that sometimes those come without a warning, like the birth of a child. Or they come and they're not positive, at least not in the moment, like the death of someone you love.
But for the most part, those moments of greatness are not thrust upon us, but the things we've worked toward, sought after, fought for.
And so that feeling that something amazing is within my reach is both the lie and the truth; it's there, but it won't spring around the corner, it will hide and run and fight me tooth and nail most times. I won't fall into a finished work of fiction if I don't take the time to write; I won't earn a PhD without ever applying to grad school; and I won't live this life to the edges, if I am clearly content dealing in trivialities.
Here's my newest manifesto, the things worth fighting for, the things that require doing the hard thing:
--Raising two responsible, well adjusted Christian members of society who will contribute to their world in a positive, creative way while pointing to Christ with their choices and their words.
--Sustaining a healthy, interactive relationship with my husband by keeping him my best friend and confidant in all things.
--Educating my students for life beyond the walls of Composition by showing them how to put their writing to work for them, promoting their ideas and thinking critically about life's big decisions
--Writing a book I can be proud of, whether it sees the public light of day or not, by forgiving myself enough to get down the first draft I will most likely not be as proud of.
--Learning and applying the ways of the God I profess to know in a real, meaningful, everyday kind of way that reaches other people. Putting my hands where my mouth is, service behind the words.
No more waiting for the amazing, time to go get it.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
In other news, I'm fascinated by the accessibility of famous people to fans via social media. However, I wonder if it's a false sense of accessibility-- like, is it actually the person or their publicist? Or is it false in that, even if it is the person, they're only sharing the person they want you to know and see? And is that any different from what we non-famous folks do with social media?
I don't know. I feel like with some time and effort this could be the topic of a dissertation. I mean, it would have to be narrowed down considerably, but it kinda fascinates me.
Friday, September 21, 2012
|All of these are taken from http://www.toothpastefordinner.com/ who came up with the brilliance and spot on accuracy of the Ambien Walrus.|
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Last week, I was dripping sweat, like just drenched, which is awesome. I mean, it's not awesome if you care what you look or smell like, but it's awesome if you're learning to skate and burning up a few calories at the same time.
I don't think the instructor will be able to teach me to skate backwards... I just don't see myself ever being able to do that. Mike (who played hockey in high school) tried to teach me when we were first married, and I just couldn't get it, no matter how I tried.
I'm sure I'll be doing stuff like this in no time... minus the puffy-headed guy starting at my chest...
See, I have this friend Bekah, and she has this theory (confession, amazing self awareness?) that some of us have input/output cycles.
Like I said in my last post, I went through about, well, if I'm honest it started in July, so 6-8 weeks of reading, TV watching, and insightful video viewing on Youtube (input). And now, now all I want to do is vomit words onto the page or work on lesson plans or talk to people about the things I've read and seen (output).
Bekah, it's a thing. And I've got it (like a disease?). Now, if I could just put my output to work on what I felt like instead of letting inspiration hop and skip me on each rock across this stream, I might have something real to show for it when the next input phase hits me.
What do you think? Is this a thing for you too, sometimes?
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
But then I really started to picture it, and now I wonder if it's going to be okay. I'm not saying I'm giving up my seat or anything, but... stuff like this is awkward to me. Basically live performances of any kind (except for bands, why are bands okay?) make me nervous, embarrassed, and uncomfortable.
So why does it feel a little like when your mom hires a magician for your party and you're all nervous and sick inside because you're worried he won't be good or your friends won't like him or, worst of all, he'll lock eyes with you just before he pulls the rabbit from the hat?
Am I the only one that is embarrassed and uncomfortable with stuff like that?
I'm a teacher. I can stand in front of 30 some kids and teach and talk and be just fine, but put me in a front row where things are live and there are variables and someone else is up there... performing... and... I'll start getting nauseous and worried the lion tamer's chair will break.
Here's the thing. I used to write nearly every day, and I recently stumbled across this defunct blog I wrote in years ago. Some days I wrote sheer silliness or lists, but other days-- other days it was poetry and stories, or lovely little pieces of myself and my family, my situation as a teacher, a reader, a writer, and a homemaker. Some of them still stir the emotions I was feeling when I wrote them. Some of them are funny, downright goofy. But they're all honest. And it felt wrong to let them die in what had essentially become a blog graveyard.
So I took that defunct blog, and I salvaged the posts and started a tumblr to post them to, a place that keeps them separate from the blogging I now do here and keeps them organized. Anyone is welcome to follow it. I went through some of the toughest times of my life during those years. And it's some of my favorite work, if not a little too altruistic and downright sappy. There may even be some cliche, haha. But if you want to know what kind of a writer I really was in my early thirties, nearly ten years ago, feel free to check it out. http://motherofboys247.tumblr.com/
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Comforting. I mean, I know some of my friends have taken a while to write their drafts and have had to rewrite their drafts, but it's nice to hear it again and again from published writers whose work I admire. And I think I read somewhere else that he took 4 years to write that same book. I read too many Stephen King interviews, because I kinda worship his writing style and his characterizations, and he writes most of his books in 3-4 months. Now, I'm sure that is just a first draft, and there simply have to be months of revision that follow, but he does seem to (according to his interviews) get most of it right the first time. The jerk. It's an impossible standard for new writers to aspire to. Maybe after we've been writing for 40 years like he has... maybe.
I have to remind myself that: I have 1.5 jobs right now teaching writing to college freshmen (which means GRADING PAPERS-- BOO to the HOO); that my husband gets hurt if I don't spend time with him most evenings (luckily he usually falls asleep around 8 or 9); that my kids enjoy my company (which I should take advantage of because, let's face it, when you have teenagers, that is not always the case); and that I have a house I'm supposed to sorta keep clean... and do laundry in... and yes, watch some fall TV while I fold clothes.
So, it's hard to find time to write, but it's not impossible. Which is why I'm planning on doing my own version of Nanowrimo. The last time I did this, I got 30,000 words out of it. I didn't end up keeping much of it, but it did help me work out a few things on the page and figure out more of my story, and that's a good thing. Nothing good can come of not writing.
So I'm planning on doing 750 words a day in November; that's weekends, holidays, whatever. EVERY DAY. And I'll start doing every other day this week. Baby steps.
Check this site out. I'm going to see if it helps me-- some of my friends have used it to motivate them to write their dissertations or first drafts of pieces for literary journals. (Yech... I'm such a grown up.)
I just want to get the bones down on this story that I've been thinking about and trying to write for 5 years now. Check in next Sunday.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
But I'm tired.
I can't stop thinking about my WIP. It sucks that I just never have time to really work on it. I mean, I do mess around some, and I guess I should just quit... that. I need to make a schedule, yeah, that's it.
And I'm going to sleep before midnight tonight, darn it. As in, right now.
This looks good. Requested at the library.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
What I really want to do today:
Read a book I got from the library yesterday about time travel.
What I would feel good about doing today:
Help my son pick out paint and get started painting and fixing up his room.
What I have to do today:
Finish lesson plans for the semester and get them posted into the online LMS. And check up on the online classes I'm teaching at the other school...
What I will try to do today:
The lesson plans and the online stuff... and we'll pick out the paint and at least make a plan for painting. Maybe we can get started painting tomorrow after church... the day of rest...
ETA: Goodreads is EATING MY LIFE. When I'm not messing around on it, finding more books, reading reviews and discussions, or requesting books from the library I've found there, I'm reading the books I've found there... ugh.
Friday, August 24, 2012
I've been thinking more about a convo in the comments of my last post between me and my friend, Jaimes, and I wanted to clarify a little. The post I made was more about how I related what happened with the author to an incident at work that day-- that sick feeling that I had gone too far in defending against what was ultimately someone else's opinion and how that is magnified when you're on the internet and well known.
I don't believe the author should be crucified in reviews of a book. Go ahead and discuss and/or blog about the bad behavior-- otherwise, how do you stop it? That and don't buy his or her book. Because without some kind of rebuttal to such behavior, the power isn't equal.The author in this case was calling on her fans to dog-pile on the reviewer, which is unacceptable. You cannot use your power as a well known author to shut up readers who don't like your book.
I probably won't pick up a book if I hear of an author behaving very childishly. I really want to "like" you before I give you the very precious time away from family and work that it will take to read your words, and it's hard to do that if I think you're small. I assume you're all right up until you prove you're not. (side note: I could not care less if we share political or religious views-- ha, I'd read much less fiction, listen to less music, and enjoy less art, if I took that stance!) You might be a great person, but the internet leaves a big impression that can last a long time that may only showcase a small part of you. If nothing else, I'm going to question your intelligence-- we've seen so many times that this doesn't go well, so why are you doing it?
But I would NEVER give an author a bad review or one star on a book based solely on that author's behavior. That isn't honest. Salinger wasn't a people-person, but the man could write. Do we penalize him for being a hermit, give ugly reviews because he wouldn't sign books or shake hands? Would you want to deprive others of his words because you were offended by his actions or an interview he gave? And where do we draw the line? What's rude behavior to you might not be to me.
But the responding-to-a-bad-review-harshly thing seems to be universally reviled and only detrimental to you, dear author. So please, step away from the keyboard... better yet, don't even click on those one star reviews on Amazon, and just walk away...
p.s. lively discussion on actual issues in a book is a whole other matter for a whole other post that I probably won't write. ;)
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Tonight I'm ready to read and sleep. I'm not going in tomorrow, but I've got to finish lesson plans and set up my course online, a big task. My son wants to paint his bedroom, and I promised my boss I would look over her dissertation.
I do not plan well.
Bring on the school year.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
And it reminds me of this simple truth: not everyone is going to like me [or all of my ideas]. And more than that, not everyone *has* to like me. Trying to make those people like me is an exhausting waste of my time. It robs me of my joy. Hey, I'm not for everyone. However, at the risk of sounding conceited, most of the people I meet, do end up my friend. But there will always be a few who just aren't going to like me, and I'm not going to stop being myself or chase after them or try to convince them they're wrong by sicking my friends on them to convince them they're wrong; instead, I've learned to shrug it off and enjoy the company of the people who enjoy mine.
Because life is too short, and the internet too big for this kind of nonsense. It doesn't work. It makes you look small. In the end, it reinforces all of the things they believed about you to begin with.
Monday, August 13, 2012
I go round and round; if I were super rich would I still work? If I didn't, I'd have to be very disciplined and get some kind of a writing schedule in place, make appointments for book clubs, exercise classes, SOMEthing. I could do that now, but I'm going back to work one week from today and do have plans for the weekend (thank goodness).
Living the dream? I don't know. Maybe it works better as just a dream.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Saturday, August 4, 2012
The drawbacks? Some of the side effects are uncomfortable-- I have some of the more rare ones. Probably the one giving me the most trouble is the random excessive sweating. I mean, I'm not hot, I'm not even doing anything, and there will be SWEAT. Sometimes it's a cold sweat. And if I'm cleaning or working out, fuggedaboudit-- sweat city! It's almost like my body is heating up, my metabolism is revving up, it's melting the fat-- because the sweat is in a weird place: my middle, where my fat lives, brutha. I've also got cotton mouth occasionally. But the trade offs? TOTALLY WORTH IT to feel in control of myself again. I'm a little worried about when I go off it; I'm just going to have to focus on making good habits and retraining my taste buds.
One of the good side effects? The label calls it "a false sense of well being." Which makes me laugh because, well, if I feel good, what's false about it? I don't think I'd still feel good if something bad happened, it's just like a normal day, and I do feel amazing, but how is that a bad thing?
I have not experienced any heart racing, something I kind of expected. That's the kind of thing that would be a deal breaker for me, so glad it's not an issue. If it becomes one, I'm done.
Anyway. We'll see. I'd love to be down significantly by my 40th in November. It's a big birthday.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Bah. It's an issue, but I know how to fix it. I guess it's just that 50% of me doesn't want to, even as 100% of me recognizes what a bad habit it is...
It's like I won't even try to sleep until I'm really sure I'll just drop off. No need to lie still in the dark and think, for Pete's sake. Really healthy.
Friday, July 20, 2012
My sons. You mean more to me than you will ever know. Be embarrassed, annoyed-- but know I love you more than my own heartbeat, and I'm not ashamed. I've got this whole, full life, but you are the biggest, best piece of the puzzle. I love you so. What a wonderful surprise motherhood was for me-- it didn't take me away from other things; instead, it finished me, completed all of the things I'd started previously in ways far better than I ever could have imagined. And while I might go on to do other things, even good and important things, you are the most important things, the very best of everything I've ever hoped or tried to be.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Now, I can't lie. I'll miss the early mornings in my office, pure quiet, dressed, ready, cool. But I'll trade it for the next five weeks of nothing, blank-white-space days.
Tell your friends: summer officially begins at 2 p.m. tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
And I love that you offer to drive me to the rain, to chase heavy clouds as they darken and arrive with the storm in some other city, some faraway state. I know I make little if any sense to you, this longing for rain, but you see that I need it, and the offer is real. I shake my head and smile, looking to the sky, because I have to see it fall here, hear it beating on the windows of our home, saturating this little square of earth we own. I look for lightening, and you come and give me some of your own, fingertips to fingertips, and I rest my weary head on your shoulder. We hold our breath and wait.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
In other news, JUST TWO MORE WEEKS OF WORK! Then I'm really off. I found out I will be receiving some kind of part time contract for the upcoming school year, more than I'm making/doing now, which is great. AND thanks to my writing group, I've been writing. Like new stuff for the WIP, and improving some of the stuff I've written, like drastically. It feels good to be moving forward again.
If not for this ridiculous headache, this would be a pretty good evening...
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
And I love watching old shows, shows from the 90s mostly or the early 2000s. I picture myself hiding between the years, like I see this very literal mental picture-- the years are these cozy blankets, and I crawl and hide between them. Nostalgia is a very powerful thing.
So I'm balancing the right now with the back then, wallowing in them both until I (I'll never) get my fill.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
I'm in an output phase right now. Everything I think seems magically important enough to write down. Heh. But I did spend some time in a bookstore today, waiting to meet my best friend of 35 years for the first time in a year (she lives in Florida) and I had a thought that has been a thought before, but one I've never let come to the front of my brain, to let myself realize it, to say it out loud. I wrote it down: I haven't lost anyone that I love more than myself yet. This feels profound, because I think this is true for a lot of people, but they don't know it. They're not enjoying it! Every day that goes by and my children's, my husband's, my mother's lungs fill with air, and they are a mere tapping of numbers away, I am the luckiest person alive. And I've got to make sure I'm aware of it and taking advantage of it, dang it.
Also, I've been thinking about the longevity of words, especially spoken. More later.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
This week was crazy, early mornings every day (had to be at work 7:30) and early evenings. It was finals week and the semester is over now. One week off starting today, then back to the new summer semester.
Since August, I've struggled with getting to sleep and staying to sleep, to the point of getting medication to help me sleep, and then two weeks ago, BAM! I can't get enough sleep. I nap after work and still sleep a full night and feel so tired the next morning and throughout the day.
What is this? Is it Spring? Depression? What is up with my body?
Mom is coming tomorrow for a week. We're going to paint the bathroom and maybe the boys' rooms. I cleaned my room today, like really got into the corners behind/underneath dusted and vacuumed CLEANED. Feels amazing. But I'm super exhausted and I've still got to mop the kitchen, vacuum the living room, and clean the bathroom. Tomorrow.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
That is artistry. Or one form of it at least.
There are a few that are written so well that I can't predict what happens next, yet I don't feel that the events come out of left field either, and I go back to those breadcrumbs and say, "yeah, right, okay they *did* set this up." And there are always those that do come out of nowhere, and I usually stop watching those. You have to give me some honesty in the character and story-- they can't act out suddenly contrary to the circumstances and their own beliefs, things you've written up to this point.
Maybe that's why I liked Buffy so much. Even though I knew who would live or die, the "monster of the week" way it was written kept me guessing, and who in the world knew that Buffy was "The Gift" or that it was all set up episodes ago? Or that Buffy would actually have to kill Angel, the real-for-real Angel just as he was healed in Season 2?
Oh, Joss. Come back to TV and do something great. I miss you. I miss not knowing what's coming and that delicious moment when it all comes together.
For me, I think it was a combination of all of the simple things above but mostly that last idea; I didn't want to give up. I hadn't read much Shakespeare at all when I arrived a freshman in college, and I felt horribly behind as an English major. So, I took myself to the college library when I had breaks in homework, and I read. Usually right there in the stacks on the floor, one tragedy after another, a comedy here and there to break things up. The weird thing is, the words that I'd never heard of before began to make sense after sort of skipping over them at first, but only when I'd been reading for a good bit.
Of course, the biggest reason is context, and you have to read for a while before that context can take shape and allow you to begin to interpret the old English in the text. Soon, you're filling in the blanks, and that beautiful rhythm helps you along too. Maybe it's the high school English teacher in me, but I think anyone can read it with a little dedication, focus, and time.
It has been a very long time since I've read any of his plays, but I'm thinking it may be time to give the Bard another go.
Monday, April 16, 2012
I keep remembering my life isn't over and that no one can decide anything for me. That doesn't mean that I don't take my kids and my husband into account, but dang it all if they don't pretty much support me 100% in my choices. Mostly because, while my hopes for the future may be a bit off the expected path, they won't bankrupt us or embarrass the family name. Anymore than usual... After all, I just want to write. The possibility of publishing is nil. But the practice of writing is healing and may be enough to be my thing, my inspiration, my doing what I should be doing.
And at 11:00 at night it seems so easy. When it's dark out, it's easy to believe that all one needs is a plan and a list, and they are armed to start their lives in a completely new direction.
This is the time of night for "what ifs" and "why nots."
This was written in the full throes of Ambien. Will it still make sense to me in the morning?
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
And sometimes I think about the Quiet. No more groans or flare-ups, no shrugging of the shoulders or the nearly audible rolling of the eyes. Floors will be cleaner, clothes hung, no more messes made and left. No computers or headphones, tinny guitars and thumping drums through their tiny speakers. No more footsteps late at night or fights over which chair, which computer, which game, or which TV is used by whom.
And far less laughter. No keyboards playing or chasing of the cats, no late night snacks with refrigerators opening. Just two heartbeats, not four. Just two plates set at a small table.
I think about that Quiet and run into the sound of your laughter, your frustrations, your light. My sons, all love and Sound, sweet Sound.