2015

Friends, enemies, people I love and people who tolerate me in their lives...2015 is here. And with that comes my annual review of what the heck I've been doing with my life.  I like to use the time between quarters to take stock and decide what works and what doesn't and what needs to go. I think about my health, spiritual life, relationships, career, and life goals. I also like to pay attention to what I do for fun and relaxation. I'm a real type A personality, so it's also helpful for me to think of what I need to just let go of and what I need to give myself a break on. With that in mind, here are a few things I've come up with.

1. I need to practice more emotional self control. Last year, I decided to stop cussing people out when they drove improperly.  I switched instead to reminding myself that not everyone can pay attention all the time and perhaps that text message or phone call is really important. Instead of cussing out loud, I would say "I hope you make better choices!". Of course, nobody can hear you when you're in another car but it was good for me. My next chore to tackle is to pay attention to my attitude when others behave poorly in public.  I know there is a line and that it's easy to cross and hard to know when to speak up.  For example, I felt comfortable speaking up at the Musee D'Orsay in Paris- the signs clearly show that there is no photography of the art, but two people were repeatedly taking photos. It made other people uncomfortable and frankly, it made me mad. I wish I could have taken pictures of some of the most beautiful paintings I have ever seen. So did the other 300 people around us. Apparently the rules didn't apply to these two people so I did plainly say "there is no photography in the museum" loud enough to catch a docent's attention.

However, it was perhaps not nice of me to intentionally step on the back of a man's shoes at the Eiffel Tower. He did shove me out of the way in line, but perhaps that's no reason to let me temper get the better of me. It did feel good though, because those were nice shoes.

Clearly, I have some work to do here. And I need to be more patient in waiting at restaurants.

2. Cutting out junk. I love junk food. Not typical junk food like pizza or candy or soda. Junk food as in I don't eat very many regular meals. I'm a snacker. I think it would be better to eat a meal than to eat the pieces of a meal. I will just eat a few pieces of cheese, then later a tomato. Then later a piece of bread. Shouldn't I just make a sandwich in the first place?

Having said that, I am also cutting out all soda pop. That's an easy one for me. They are really, really bad for you. Soda often has carbonic acid, sugar, high fructose corn syrup, aspartame in the diet stuff, and all sorts of shit you just don't need to put into your body. Coke is great for cleaning your toilet, just not your insides. Pretty easy; I don't remember the last time I had a soda (like 6 months ago?) and am much more likely to reach for a Monster energy drink- which I will also stop drinking. I think I had three or four last year.

Then there is sugar and additives. I don't eat much sugar on purpose and I like cooking my own food instead of buying prepared stuff. Processed food just isn't good for me and I don't really like chocolate. Here's the real challenge, and try not to laugh: I like to take my daily multivitamins in gummy form.  Yes, I'm a gummy-aholic. If you want me to take medicine, make it something I like and I'm more likely to take it. I take a multivitamin, vitamin D, and a pro-biotic. That's 6 gummies a day. I'm less likely to take a pill, so if you all have suggestions, I'd love to hear them.  Now, those vitamins are in addition to not in place of eating a diet filled with as many vitamins and minerals as I can get.

My other addiction is cheese. I can't get enough of that stuff.  G and I buy three or four packages at Costco every month.

So, more greens, less cheese. And I think I'm going to try adding in more meat into my diet this year. It's kind of yucky to cook and it doesn't taste really good, but I'm going to try for more lean meats. Here's my problem though: I hate chicken, especially chicken legs and stuff with tendons and ligaments and stuff. Barf. May I'll try chicken breast sometime. I'll keep you posted and let you know if that pans out. My favorite local Mexican food place serves a good carnitas platter, which I get from time to time.

In case you just read that last paragraph and thought "I thought she was a vegetarian?!" Yes, I am. I'm a vegetarian because meat tastes yucky and factory farming is an awful, inhumane practice. Actually, we're pescetarians, though I think we eat fish maybe once a month.  There are two stores here in Ellensburg who sell locally grown, humanely treated animal bits. I'd feel ok trying that. No weird growth hormones, no crazy antibiotics shoved into a cow. Whenever possible, we get eggs from my friend Joy, who has lots of happy chicken-pets.

So that means no fast food, which is not a problem. I haven't ordered at a drive-through in a long, long time. No sodas, no pre-packaged stuff from the grocery.  I don't think I'm going to commit to getting away from buying bread. Seriously, I have to have a life. I'm not baking my own damn bread. I think I can do this.

3. Letting it go. G and I don't often disagree but I do like to keep track of what I can do better to listen in tense situations.  One thing I hear is "you need to let things go more".  Now, I am as tenacious as a bulldog. When I get my teeth into something, academically speaking, I see it through to the end. In this way, that's a character asset. In my personal life, I don't let many people close to me so I don't like secrets and I tend to not stuff slide- I get a little too confrontational at times. I know this; I'm working on it. I did a good job a couple of years ago in learning to cut my significant other some slack in relationships. To be clear, I don't think I'm horrible or a control freak (too much). I just think I could do better than I currently am. In practicing, I also give myself a break sometimes and try not to hold my own feet to the fire so much.

4. Sleep. Funny you should mention sleep. I've got insomnia, which I've developed in the last two years. It's stress related, and coffee related and age related. Right now, I can get to sleep just fine, but wake up about 3-4 hours in. Then I'm awake for 3-4 hours, then I sleep again for a bit if I can. There are a few things I absolutely lose sleep over and I plan to knock both of them out in the next few months. With less stress, hopefully I'll be able to be more productive, more happy, and more able to give it a rest (literally).

5. Miles.  This one is fairly easy for me. I want to make sure I get in 35 miles a week for 2015. That's about 1,800 miles for the year. I think I came in at about 1,400 this year. Two miles per day are just walking to and from work, so the rest is about intentionality. One thing that will help is my other resolution: to get a 10 minute mile at least once every month. I'd like to also get at least a couple 9:30 miles, but that depends a lot on air quality and my poor, failing lungs.  I have seen a huge decline in my lungs since I taught at an inner-city middle school which was remodeling while we were in session. They had posted mold and asbestos and I had bronchitis for 10 straight months. It was "not happy". But I'll do the best I can.

6. Speaking of my physical health, I'm going to find it in me to go to a massage therapist from time to time. I always think of this as a major luxury rather than a necessity. I broke down (metaphorically, not literally though it was close) and went to a chiropractor here in town. After 5 or so visits he said I don't really need him anymore but that I'd benefit from massage. I'm doing yoga twice a week right now and that helps, but maybe a massage a few times this year would be nice.

7. Relationships. I always think I have this dialed in, but relationships take effort and work. I'm hoping to do a little better at visiting friends this year, so if you want me to come visit, please invite me. I'll practice saying yes more than no, even though I'm a total homebody introvert lazy bum. I've done a better job of enforcing boundaries with loved ones and at school, but it's hard for me to say "no" when something is easy to say yes to. So, more authentic connections, less overcommitting, and more awesome conversations with people I care about.

Ok, that's it. Seven is a lucky number. I do welcome input, of course.  What are your goals for this year? Do you even make resolutions? I find them helpful but try not to become too attached. Let me know.....

The author in her natural, confused state

A Million Little Things

Oh My Gosh, do I have a problem.

It may not seem like much but I have to stop drinking coffee. Like altogether.  I figured this out two weeks ago.  My body has bee intensely disinterested in working with me on getting food in and not being sick. I tried lots of medicines, including an antidepressant since there is seretonin in the gut and the doctor thought it would help.  It helped a little, I admit. My husband also reports that I am less cranky and less bubbly when I take it.  But after a month or so, the benefits dwindled and I have been back to potatoes and rice and bland things for awhile.  What other possible irritant could I possibly give up?

*Groan* I wish I hadn't asked.

So what the heck. I have stopped drinking coffee, except for one cup a day.  I split that into two half cups, or rather two half-caff cups.  I've started drinking loads of tea, which not only helps but keeps me hydrated.  I've had muscle tension, headaches, pain, crankiness and days where I feel like I'm going to pass out from fatigue.  In coming off of my addiction, I've had this fogginess about me, like the world is moving faster than I can keep up with.

Pretty severe addiction, huh?

I have been drinking coffee since I was 11.  That's 29 years. About 20 of those years have been about 2 pots a day.  Not cups, pots.  I've stuck with it through ulcers and a year of this colitis business.  Wanna see me without coffee?

Not Pretty

 Yeah.  

Wanna see my new haircut (with coffee)? 

Caffeinated

The good news is that I am so much improved. It's like I stopped drinking poison, and I am so sad.  

On the bright side, I can eat dairy again.  DAIRY! I thought that was gone forever. I'm going to eat ice cream and stuff and cheese.  Yeah. 

In other news, I took a group of students up to Leavenworth, Washington for a trip to Icicle Creek Performing Arts Center.  Lovely people, and we got to eat lunch at a pretty swanky restaurant called Kingfisher.  Some people in the group wanted to hike; others wanted to go shopping in Leavenworth. Nobody wanted to leave each other so we hung out around the grounds and climbed up hills for a bit.  I snapped a few photos: 

Icicle Sculpture

Icicle Creek

See the ruby in her mouth? 

I love that 12 students who only met a few weeks ago are so attached to each other that they don't want to part.  We all headed into town as a group and shopped together, only splitting up for about half an hour.  It's the sweetest thing I've ever seen a class do. 

The other really neat thing is that I have a writing mentor for the class and a co-teacher. (Ah, the beauty of grants!) My writing mentor, Jamie, is a wonderful budding teacher and her kids came to see us off the morning for the trip. Megan and Dylan are practically class members anyway, since they sometimes attend class or help out in one way or anther. Kyle, one of the students in the class, was taking his dog so he was driving up separately.  He didn't say anything but smuggled Megan and Dylan up to the lodge.  Cool as could be, both Megan and Dylan did our writing assignments with us and participated like everyone else.  I loved the way the whole day went down. I am a lucky, lucky teacher.  

My other English classes are going well too.  In one assignment, my students were to summarize an article that they chose. Preferably something interesting, academic and in their field of study.  The student above was talking about a peer-reviewed article from the Library database on orgasm in contemporary romance novels.  She said she couldn't help but have fun with the title.  I took a picture and put it up on Facebook. Can't help it.
On the 21st, I'm heading off to Boston to present at the National Council of Teachers of English conference. I'll connect with my Oklahoma teacher friends and attend seminars and probably get a good look at Boston.  I like it there, but it'll be cold in November! I may have to stay inside a nice, warm museum or something...

Wish me luck- pretty soon I'm going to wean off of caffeine altogether, forever.  For some reason that looms over me like a cartoon monster.  On the other hand- ice cream. 

Random 5 Friday

My bloggy buddy Nonnie (introduced by my fabulous MIL) inspired me today with her Random 5 Friday blog. I'll do one for you too.  For rules on the Random 5, go here.

1. Today is the day Eleanor goes to the vet for her check up.  I'm excited because I think her bloodwork will come back wonderfully.  She feels better! Her appetite is good and she's much more snuggly than she was.  I bet that's also because it's cooler outside.

2. I love that it's cooler, but I can't drink pumpkin spice lattes and it's killing me. No places serve almond milk or rice milk in their lattes- it's all milk or soy.  I'm allergic to milk and soy.  So I tried pumpkin spice tea from Stash. It tastes like warm water and cinnamon. Blech.

3.  I've been working out in the early mornings lately.  I....like it. Let me just say that I am NOT a morning person, but it's nice to get up at 5:45, snuggle with the little kitty, make some coffee and have a cup with my husband before I hit the gym at 6:30.  It was 40 degrees yesterday morning but 48 this morning with sunshine.

4. I had the opportunity to give a presentation on conflict management this week to an incoming group of freshman leaders.  The retreat was way up on White Pass, past Yakima and following the great Naches river.  The workshop went well with facepainting, discussions, group work and skits.  The drive was even more impressive.

5.  My brother in law, B, helps with a race car team.  I'm not sure if it's stock car or sprint car or what, but he's been on the pit crew for a number of years.  Besides his family and fishing, I think this is his passion.  The driver grew up around their little town and B believes in him and wants those dreams to come true.  And as it happens, there is a race in Yakima tonight and tomorrow. G and I are going to go support them and watch the shows.  Have I ever been to a car race? I don't think so. I'm not even sure what kind of cars are in Nascar or the Indie 500 or what horserace is popular this decade.  BUT it will probably be fun and my nephew, who turned 13 this week, will be there too.

Have a great weekend!

Haze

Last week passed in a bronchitic haze. (I just adjectived a disease.) I'm looking at my last blog post- I wrote it on my iPad and it cut any cool formatting I might have done.

I limped through the week, "teaching" classes and propping myself up in my office. I am so, so glad that by the end of the quarter, my students are independent learners and are expected to do most of the work in the class with me acting as guide. I did give up on Thursday and just went to the doc. Grey helped me keep track of what medicines I took and when and what I could and would take next.

These peonies were just waving in the wind

Friday was emotional. It was the last day I would see my Multicultural Literature class. First, we had a graduating senior in the class and this was his last class to attend as an undergraduate. We clapped for him and wished him well on his next adventure- Music education in Brazil! Then it was on to a presentation by my last group of students on the influence of African-Americans on American music. It was interesting, featuring many famous and infamous singers and songwriters and leaving out a few of the more obvious ones in favor of ones people may not know. It sparked a good discussion. Then I handed back some papers and told students that, as promised, I would answer their questions on my opinions of the works we discussed in class. I tend to hold a strict rule of withholding my opinion because it might restrict what students can discover.
 Their questions reflected a deep continued interest and understanding of the materials. And a continued reflection of those things. I was deeply moved. Then that was it. I thanked them for their amazing efforts and congratulated them on being such a wonderful class, one I truly enjoyed. Several stayed after to shake my hand and say "thank you".

 Damn, I wish I had felt better.

 Ah well.

Yesterday morning, we in the Central Washington Writing Project finalized plans for the June 18-27 Summer Institute. It's going to be fun. My contribution was introducing the idea of writing marathons, which will be our opening activity. I'm the technical liaison this summer too. So I get to be part of but not particularly responsible for major projects. My favorite!

 After that, I was tapped (yes, on a Saturday morning) to write the bonus points section of the grant we've been working on, so Grey and I got some lunch and worked from 2 until almost 8 and got that part done. I was finally feeling better and had had 6 hours of sleep- recovering after a night of only 2.5 hours from all the coughing and weird medicine. We had that sparkling wine and went to bed. The haze is starting to clear up. I'm off to a book club to discuss "The Giver" with some junior high school kids and their parents.
 

This bistro set is my birthday present. G picked it out and it's exactly what I wanted. :) 

And Happy Anniversary to this guy! What a wonderful man! 

Birthday bubbles, a little late.

What To Get A Woman Turning 40

So I had a lovely 40th birthday- Went to work and taught a class. Came home to a thoughtful and useful gift from G- a bistro set. Exactly what I wanted! He even had gluten free vegan cookies and a bottle of sparkling wine.

 My mom even remembered. She sent me a lovely gift and called me on my birthday.

G also took me out to dinner at the nicest restaurant. He even made reservations, though on a Tuesday night in Ellensburg, you probably don't need them.

My husband's family called, sent messages and texted me too. Even a couple of nieces remembered. I felt really loved. And tired.

 I sick, sick, sick for my 40th birthday. Couldn't drink the wine. Sat on the bistro chairs for about five minutes in the sunshine. Went to bed right after dinner. So no pictures yet. Soon. But don't think I didn't enjoy my day. I really did!

 I toughed it out until this morning. My cough started to really hurt and I felt exhausted just waking up. Usually, once I'm up, I'm ready to go. So I took the day off and went to the doctor. I do not have time to be sick. I don't have time for bronchitis and I sure don't have time to take a whole day off of work. 

Blood pressure 102/77. Resting heart rate is 58. "You're healthy as a horse," said the doc. "Except for that viral infection that's suspiciously acting like bronchitis."
 She smiles a lot but otherwise I like her. "Rest. And take this fistful of medicines twice a day."

I DON'T HAVE TIME TO REST! FINALS ARE COMING! I HAVE TO GRADE! I didn't say any of that out loud. It was all screaming in my head. With more exclamation points. There was even one upside down.

But when I do get to feeling better, I'ma use that bistro set, sip some bubbly in the sun (or maybe just carrot juice) and maybe finish grading these papers.

Anyone want to grade papers for me?

Anyone?

We Need More Sabrina's

I love walking.  I do it all the time.  As my lungs improve, I'll jog more but I have never been much for running in the June/July/August/September heat anyway.  The mornings are my favorite for reflection and the evenings are my favorite for walking and talking.  As long as the temperature isn't over 95.  It's a rule in the hot and humid environment of Oklahoma.  I'm never happier than when I have a good friend to walk and talk with.  I call people and talk to them while I'm walking, especially people who are far away.

Grey and I were walking last night on Riverside in Tulsa.  It's beautiful and there are clearly marked lanes for pedestrians and bicyclists.  We were overtaken by an attractive blonde woman in her twenties.  She cut in front of us in the pedestrian lane, blissfully unaware or uncaring that she is in the wrong part of the world.  Full make up, beautiful nails, dressed to impress and looking around the world in her oversized sunglasses and pouty glossed lips.  I shrugged; Really a minor annoyance but still.  Most of the time people exercise out in the heat to sweat, get gross and stinky and to improve their cardio-vascular health.  The "look-at-me" set has always vaguely annoyed me but the sense of entitlement, that  somehow possessing girl parts means you get to go first in line, to get one's own way just sends bad signals to the world around you.  As though being a female was your greatest achievement or contribution to society.

We walked several miles and observed this lady stopping to chat with single men.  When we passed her once again, we had to get out of the pedestrian lane as she and her discussion partner were standing with their bicycles, blocking the walking lane.  "You're in the pedestrian lane", I said as we passed.  No effect.  "Did you hear what she was saying?" said Grey as we walked on.  "No." "She said 'how can you put a boundary around love?'".  "Condoms are a good thing," I said, walking on.

Photo Credit: http://yai.li/post/1446667959/ffffound-skinnydipp

I probably sound a little bitter or perhaps jealous.  But the thing is that I have greater hopes for women than using sexuality to manipulate or otherwise negotiate the world around us.  Women are smart and capable- we are just not told to use those gifts by society.  It's easier and accepted to go through life the easy way.  In the end, though, it's more expensive (in my experience) to go through life depending on looks and wiles.  I have found it much more worth my energy to have a job, go to school, and use my energy productively doing the things I want more or less on my own terms.  My life partner- someone I admire greatly- also values this in me.  Now I have turned my attention and energies towards the goals we have mutually agreed upon rather just my own.

Don't get me wrong, I still like wearing cute dresses and painting my toes. But the rest of me is about business.

I have a friend named Sabrina.  Sabrina and I met in graduate school. She was around a size 28, I think.  Pretty, smart - she got her master's degree and she is an English teacher like me- owns her own home and puts 110% into everything.  But she felt miserable and unloveable and her solution was to lose weight.  Did I mention that she is smart? Sabrina gets up every day in front of high school students.  She decided to lose weight through diet and exercise.  No crash diets, no fad diets and no surgery.  Sweat equity. Since last August she is down almost 90 pounds and is in a size 12.  She has found her voice and she is an example to the young women who go to her school.  She has also made herself accountable through social media and keeps a blog that I think everyone should read.  Pretty inspiring for English teachers and for anyone who has struggled with weight issues. She has crossed several finish lines- wearing shorts,  running a mile, losing ten pounds, twenty...ninety pounds and going.  I'd bet by Christmas that Sabrina will be a size 8-10.  I bet she stays at a healthy weight too, since this has been her goal all along.

Hello Beautiful!

I'd put Sabrina up against bicycle girl any day for her ability to turn heads, her courage and her ability to simply kick ass when the rubber meets the road.  She reads books.  She teaches and makes a difference for people.  In her forties and fifties and sixties, she will still be beautiful, healthy and a productive and positive contributor to society.  Please realize that the blonde woman is nothing more than a metaphor for a greater ill in our world.  I hope we come to change our minds and make more Sabrina's and fewer surface beauty sirens who will be discarded by the time they reach middle age.

Me? I'll just be walking and talking.

That Awkward Moment When

In every relationship there comes a point when the newness wears off and most of the fronting a person does- any pretending they might be consciously or unconsciously doing- falls away.  I don't think that people set out to deceive each other.  Quite the opposite.  They want a prospective beau to be able to see the best that is in them, minus the dull, everyday attributes or habits that might detract from the view of one's heart.  To that end, they might (and I admit nothing here) take extra time to shave their legs before that third date.  They might eat less at dinner or just stick to salad and say no to the giant brownie sundae dessert even though previously, that brownie sundae was the whole reason you went to that restaurant and when you turn it down the waitress (who knows you, your name and your sundae-snarfing habits) looks at you accusingly and with a little shock.

The old habits are easy to slip back into and once you have that other person hooked, at some point it's ok to let those shine through.  Little do couples know or realize that this is also the make or break point of a relationship.  If after the third month of dating your boyfriend wakes up, and for the first time puts on heavy metal music and skips making coffee even though he bought the coffee maker just because he knew you were staying the night, this should be a sign to you that a) it's alright to make coffee for yourself and/or b) should figure out that even though heavy metal makes your ears want to curl up inside of your head, this is a fact of his life and you will need to take that into consideration when scoping out the wider spectrum of his maleness.  In my oh-so-recent experience, none of those things have happened. Grey drinks stronger coffee than I do and so far, no obnoxiousness in the mornings.

Knowing how relationships tend to go, we have made an effort to not just put that best foot forward.  If I want a dessert, I order one.  If there is no coffee made, one of us will make it.  Hell, he gave me a coffee maker for Christmas because mine was old and I needed to replace it anyway.  Maybe it's just me but I really like getting appliances for gifts.  I hope he takes me seriously when I ask for power tools for my birthday.  Still, there are some things I have take care about in my presentation of self.  I have really horrible, horrible morning breath.  All human beings with perhaps the exception of the Dalai Lama are thus cursed. I believe this is God's way of controlling the human population.  My breath is particularly fragrant and gagging in the morning and I cannot stand myself.  No exhaling permitted without first brushing my teeth.  So the first thing I do in the morning is jump out of bed and scrape the green moss off of my tongue, gargle a little and get back into bed so that I can pretend that I am some sort of heavenly angel who wakes up with Crest at the edges of her smile.

The other minor problem is that I also dislike all morning breath, though I try to hide this little bit of information.  I also don't particularly like my own coffee breath and get a little self-conscious about it. Grey figured that one out pretty quick.  Besides generously and wordlessly brushing his teeth first thing, he has also taken to keeping Altoids around. Since when he makes the two hour drive to my house he drinks coffee, he also stops and buys another tin of Altoids and pops one in his mouth just before he pulls up.  We didn't discuss this beforehand and it never occurred to me to ask about it because it's just something he does.  I found out because I teased him about the increasing number of mostly full Altoid boxes on his kitchen counter.  From my vantage point - writing on his computer here in Tulsa- I can see six boxes and count that as six times he has thought of my comfort level without me even knowing it.  I tell you what though, he probably has no idea that I can kill spiders just by breathing morning breath on them.  I hope he never figures that one out.

The fact is that I have what some people like to think of as "strange dietary habits".  When my roommate moved in she had a conversation with her mom. Her mom said "Does she cook?"  "No." "She eat anything?" "No."  And then VP told her about how I it must be a White people thing that I use spray butter on my food rather than butter or margarine.  If you have ever used spray butter you know it's not really butter but some vegetable oil and flavoring and sixty other preservatives that make it taste good and which makes your food taste buttery without adding calories.  When I was a kid, I would eat nothing but bread and butter for dinner.  Lots of butter.  I can't do that as an adult but I still like the taste.

I also have days when I don't eat much- maybe 700 calories.  I eat when I'm hungry and I'm not always hungry.  My food choices are more often than not very healthy with lots of fruits, veggies and hummus involved.  But some days I'm not as hungry as others.  However, there are times when I'd eat the spoon if I thought it was edible.  And during those times, I also eat what I want.  In any given month, it all evens out.  At first, I was too nervous to even really eat in front of Grey.  The first time he saw me on a hungry day, I'm sure he didn't quite know what to make of the petite eater he was used to seeing.

There are some things that I have cardinal rules about.  I don't go around making body noises around people and pretty much expect that same courtesy.  It's all cool if you or I or anybody just goes into the other room.  We can pretend nothing happened and that we are always rosy.  There's that rule, and everyone knows that rule.  Anyone who doesn't inherently follow that rule is weeded out within the first three dates (interesting side-note: did you know that the third date is now commonly accepted as the date where you have sex? I'm blaming the economy and the expenses of date night activities).

What I am going to tell you next might make you squeamish.  If you have a weak tummy or if you have any respect for me whatsoever, you might want to skip this next part.

We were in New Braunfels for a friend's wedding.  Grey's friend.  I don't like weddings much and tend to avoid them whenever possible.  But I am in love and will travel to Texas to smile at an entire room full of people I don't know and look pretty.  Because it's important to me that Grey is happy and that's much more powerful than my social anxiety.  We pulled up to the hotel just as the men and women were splitting for the night. Grey and I were graciously invited to go have Mexican food with the guys.  Yes, I inadvertently crashed a bachelor party.  As much as 30 somethings have bachelor parties.  And the food was authentic and good.  The men were kind and included me in their conversations even though I had never met any of them.  So that was nice.

But the next day I asked if Grey might wait at the front desk while I ran up to the hotel room. No, he'd rather just come upstairs with me.

Um, that's a problem.  The hotel room was very nice and the hotel itself is a historic landmark, built in the late 1800s in an art deco style.  They happy couple chose it because their wedding was art deco themed.  But the walls are thin, thin, thin and the bathroom door, when closed, still has daylight showing under the bottom and on the sides.  Nooo, it would be better if he stayed in the lobby.  But no, he did not get the hint so on the way upstairs (I was running at this point as it was just a matter of time before my guts turned inside out) I begged him to just sit in the hallway on a beautiful chaise lounge while I magically peeled the paint off of the walls. I texted him from the bathroom. "No more Mexican food. Ever."  Yes, I knew I'd be in there awhile and took technology with me so I could communicate with the outside world.

The wedding went off with a few hitches and the holiday ended peacefully enough.  Nobody had to evacuate the hotel because of my activities. New Years came and went life has gone back to being blissfully normal.  Well, as normal as you can be if you're me.

I'm not sure if Grey has any strange habits, weird quirks or if when I am not at home he bites the heads off of kittens.  I doubt it. So far our idiosyncrasies seem to match up.  That awkward moment when I took a sip of his favorite kind of coffee and realized that I'd have to dilute it by 50% to make it drinkable was sort of a nice one. Because I drink pretty strong coffee. And it goes pretty well with brownie sundaes.

Calambres

I've been a bit on the busy side of things lately. Between my teaching job (which doesn't even fit into the 40 hour work week), the two classes I adjunct teach and this dissertation defense, I haven't had time to write much.  I'm stressed because this is the longest I've gone without posting.  My friend L.Bangs remarked the other night that I need to write more.  And believe me, friends, I have stuff to talk about.

I have finally gotten to a point with my students that I can begin moving them from dependent learners to independent learners.  For instance, students commonly ask me if they might sharpen their pencils. I put up a sign that reads: "Independent Learners may sharpen their pencils whenever they need to, as long as the teacher is not lecturing". My next step with them is to tackle responsible use of the bathroom pass.  I have scaffolded this with my 8th grade class. They have now earned the privilege of moving their desks into the groups they want and can do community work.  If they do well next week, they can be trusted to use the bathroom pass at their own discretion. I wanted them in the configurations they chose. I want them to learn respect and to be respected in turn and for our classroom to be a place of learning.

I gave new vocabulary words last week too. "Home Language" and "Standard English" and "Code-Switching" all came up. We discussed openly - in all of my classes- whether or not one language was better than another, the importance of code-switching and why we need to study English. It went well and the spirited ones are becoming more focused. The less interested ones seem to be paying a bit of attention.

What has helped too is the ESL teacher who is coming for two of my classes.  I make use of her and have her work with struggling readers/writers who seem to founder in language and are shy.  They like her because she is nice and quiet and a native speaker, so she is a safe person to ask if they need to in Spanish.  Let's face it- I am a good teacher but the ESL teacher is a great augmentation because she shares a language context that I do not.  And I am all about using that to help those kids. They need it. They deserve it.  Sometimes the languages get mixed up.

I was explaining the concept of quickwrites to my kids. Quickwrites are writing where we just put down our ideas on a topic or tell a story as quickly as possible without thinking too much about it.  It's the warm up to our class and is a great way to generate topics for further writing. I gave an analogy (and taught that word along with it) of stretching before playing a sport. "What does stretching do for you?" I asked. "Helps us not get..." said one of my students. "Get..?" I inquired. He looked puzzled. Sometimes my students will know a word in Spanish and not know how to translate it. "Calambres." He turned to his friend next to him. "Cramps." said the kid.  You stretch so  you don't get cramps.  "That's why we do quickwrites. Nobody wants calambres." Some of my girls giggled. They later told me that calambres are also associated with menstrual cramps.  Fortunately, this was first hour.  I practiced the word on all of my other classes.  I got it wrong a few times and students delighted in correcting my pronunciation.  "Hey, I have to get it wrong in order to get it right." It was a wonderful and teachable day.

Followed by a few days of mindless testing.
Two steps forward, one step back.

The day we discussed home language and code switching, I was also being observed by the principal. We used poetry to talk about verbs and more on the use of analogy.  He's been hitting us over the head about curriculum so I was nervous.  When we got a chance to meet about it, he mentioned how much the kids participated in the discussion and the writing and that they seemed to be learning.  It was a good evaluation.  At the end, I confessed that the exercise we did was not in the curriculum script that was handed me as I walked in the door. It went far beyond and he could see that this was true.  He didn't have much to say about that.

School seems to be leveling off. I'm working out issues one at a time. It's really my health that is in the front seat today. I've been going at it a little aggressively. This week in addition to teaching at the middle school, I also taught my Tuesday night class at Osu-Okc. Then I ended up back there until 8 on Wednesday night and subbed in on Thursday night for someone else. Three 12 hour days in a row is a little too much. And my dissertation defense is next Friday. One week from today. And I am not ready yet. And I haven't graded all of those papers. And I need to work out. I did work, despite the aching in my lungs. And it all came down on me today.

I had to go see my doctor after work.  I have been coughing and wheezing for two weeks. Then I got a sinus infection and a really sore throat. It's all from my asthma. The doc gave me a steroid shot in the butt, an antibiotic and some cough syrup made with codeine. And a strong admonition to come earlier next time so that it doesn't get that bad.

So I had my own calambres this week. I didn't warm up properly or get enough rest and paid that price.  I'm going too much, running too ragged and trying and failing to be Wonder Woman. I've been typing with one eye closed and pausing to yawn. So tomorrow I cancelled my plans to be in the parade and to help someone move and I'm going to sleep in instead.  Because next week is going to be a hell of a week.

The Ends Of Things

This is the season of the ends of things.  This is the week of the ends of things and the night of the ends of things.  I have to turn in my dissertation revisions tomorrow but instead I'm writing a blog post.  I should be revising. I don't have internet at home right now and have to get to bed by 11 at the latest and that's after a shower.  I work in the morning. 
This is the end of my homeless wanderings.  I've spent the last 6 months wandering all around Oklahoma as my house was rented out while I finished my teaching contract in Ada.  The contract was not renewed and I ended up getting a teaching job in Oklahoma City. I got my house back on September 1.  It was a terrible mess and will cost me thousands of dollars to clean up.  My contractor is installing new kitchen countertops and replacing drywall in the pantry because of the heavy urine smell.  I bug bombed since the roaches were large and singularly unafraid.  One of them looked like "Ponyboy" from The Outsiders. I think he was carrying a straight razor so I backed out of the room and called in a nuclear attack. My cat is happy to be home at least.  The livingroom, hallway and one of the bedroom carpets has been steamcleaned four times and spot treated several times.  While stained badly, they won't be replaced since I just don't have the $1,700 to do it. Then there are the dead trees and landscaping in the back yard and the garbagea dn assorted junk tossed into the yard here and there.  It's going to take several pick up loads to get rid of it.  Now you know where the roaches came from.  All of this on only 6 months.  The meager deposit didn't even begin to cover the steam cleaning. I feel relatively safe tonight and the house is rather stink-free save for the pantry. The contractor will take care of it.  I put the ball in motion.  The end.  My very nice ex-boyfriend is babysitting my Big Dogg and he will come home soon too. My happy little family will be home and in the same place.

This is supposed to be the end of my dissertation. I'm a little blocked.  I don't want this to be over.  I'm teaching full time during the day and in the evenings I teach an online class.  On Tuesday nights I've got an in-person class.  I'm not sure that I'm spending enough time on revisions. I'm not sure what I'm afraid of. I'm not sure if it will pass. I'm not sure if it *should* pass.  I'm not sure what to do next. I've been a student for a long, long time. I don't want that to change. I don't want it to stop. Can't take it back now. I will finish this too and be done with it.

I am glad to be on the back side of summer and the end of the hottest season on record anywhere.  I thought I would die.  I didn't.  I complained a lot on Facebook and obsessed on the topic with my friends and family.  Wildfires raged and tempers flared. For four months I sweated and played ninja in my avoidance of the giant ball of gas in the sky.  I couldn't run more than 2 miles without getting heat stroke.  It went on and on forever until suddenly, like a puff of smoke, it was gone.  Today I turned on the heater in my car on the way to work.  It was all of 55 degrees.  I rejoiced. I reveled in it, rolling down the windows blasting the heater.  I love the descent into fall, bringing in the eaves and putting away the summer dresses.  I love putting the earth to bed, to sleep for a season of dormancy, of well deserved rest already after the long and winding dirt-road season under a burning sun.  And I feel an easing in my mind too, in my philosophy that things can wait and that there is time yet for me to think and to reflect and ponder some of life's greater mysteries. A season to compost my thoughts and plan and to dream.  To gather my wisdom about me like so much yarn to spin into the shawl of age.

I have had the end of a relationship too.  My brother is not speaking to me, nor I to him. I got pulled in to some stupid drama where I did not want to be. I am not a tactful woman and did not pull my punches when I perhaps should have.  We argued and fought and said things we cannot take back and he did something he cannot take back.  For now, for this season, I am done.  I'm not angry anymore but won't open my heart for someone who has caused that much grief for me, knowing the stress it would cause. I hate the ends of relationships and really, really dread conflict.  I do love being healthy and now perhaps we can both be healthy on our own. 

Finally, I am going to end my relationship with Blogspot.  People clicked on the ads.  I was supposedly making money from my blog.  Then I made too much money- over $300 that I never cashed in over the course of a year- and the blogspot people decided to suspend my adsense account.  So now you can read my work but I cannot make money from it.  This is work, keeping a blog and trying to put something thought-filled out there every week.  As soon as I get a suitable new home for my writing, I will let you know and we will go from there together. 

Drink the last of the summer wine. Enjoy the leftover pieces of watermelon in the refrigerator.  Pick the remaining tomatoes from shriveling vines and watch as the squash and pumpkins grow and grow. 
I leave you today with the following from William Butler Yeats:

The Folly Of Being Comforted

One that is ever kind said yesterday:
'Your well-beloved's hair has threads of grey,
And little shadows come about her eyes;
Time can but make it easier to be wise
Though now it seems impossible, and so
All that you need is patience.'
Heart cries, 'No,
I have not a crumb of comfort, not a grain.
Time can but make her beauty over again:
Because of that great nobleness of hers
The fire that stirs about her, when she stirs,
Burns but more clearly. O she had not these ways
When all the wild Summer was in her gaze.'

Heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head,
You'd know the folly of being comforted.  

Enough Perfection!

I have a new obsession: Single Dad Laughing. I read a post by him about perfection. You can check it out here. He made me think about how imperfect I am, not that I need any reminders.

But I look around me and I see that almost everyone I know is infected with this disease of being perfect. We- collectively as Americans- need to be perfect. I think it stems from some skewed perception of capitalism wherein we have to go big or go home. Large houses with green lawns, big boats, fast cars, expensive clothes and hair and slim thighs and great skin and the right shoes...it's all part of the American dream.

Why do I sometimes feel ashamed and angry that I don't have all of those things? I'm an educator, for Pete's sake. What I do is important and it matters greatly, to offer other worlds and experiences to students and to take the opportunity to learn from them. I derive a great deal of self-esteem from teaching, from doing anonymous good works, and from looking for ways to be kind- especially to those who would be unkind to me. I live in a house and I have enough to eat. My car goes places. My dog and cat are always happy to see me, especially if they think I have something tasty. My friends are there for me when I need them most of the time and I am there for them, most of the time. So why do I so often compare myself to the appearances of others and feel as though I lack?

But I feel what I feel. Long ago I made a choice to be what and who I am and that means that the American dream with a white picket fence, a couple of kids and the ability to keep up with the Jones' is not in the cards. I could have chosen vet school; I was accepted in the top three of the hundreds of applications. Not that being a veterinarian is so glamorous- it's a lot of poop and blood if the truth were known, but it comes with a nifty white coat. I only applied because I wanted my husband to think I was good enough. When I just couldn't do it, I left behind the man and the life and the lifestyle and became a teacher.

Years later in a fit of anger, my ex husband said that I was his project and that he never really did think I was good enough. At the time it stung, and it made me look long and hard at my own actions. I realized that I am defined by my actions but not my family. More importantly, I am a human and like other humans, I deserve real love, unconditional love. It's a lesson I've never forgotten and try to practice; to try to understand rather than just change others into your image of them.

I cannot tell you my schedule without feeling exhausted. I am actually attempting to learn Italian amongst all other stuff I have to do in a week. I have downloaded language learning audio onto my iPod and listen and repeat in the mornings on my drive to work. I have no other real time during the week. I have this drive to do well in my classes, to teach well, to be a good colleague, daughter, granddaughter, aunt, sister and friend. Fact is, those things often slide. Or at least one or two slide since I do have to sleep sometimes.

It's not just our time and energy that's subject to perfectionism. Our bodies seem to be under the most scrutiny. Everywhere I go I am bombarded with advertisements for rejuvenating treatments "My wife looks ten years younger. I can't believe it!", liposuction "Get the beautiful legs, hips and thighs you've always wanted. You deserve it!", breast augmentation "Imagine how much more confident you will feel!", day spas, salons, gentlemen's clubs, gyms, diet pills and make up commercials just on the radio. I gave up television long ago but the images still haunt me.

Nothing makes me feel more insecure than women's magazines and snickering, whispering teenage girls. The fact is that I went to war with my body sometime in 1999. I could say it's because I was a big girl in high school, with petite and beautiful sisters. I could say it's because when I was 11 years old, my grandma-who was trying to be kind- said "Well, honey, you're not as pretty as your sisters, but you have nice child-bearing hips." I could blame my ex-husband for telling me the truth when I asked if my jeans make my butt look big. He said "I love you, but you've gained twenty pounds since we got married." I went to the gym that day. From that day to this, I cannot see what the scale at my doctor's office tells me. If I know that number, I will immediately go on a crash diet to lose ten pounds. And I'm not too picky about how I do it.

The fact remains though, that every day that I wake up, I make a conscious choice. I choose to just be myself. It's not natural. I want to be a reflection of what people want me to be. Especially since I'm single again. I want to be liked even though I have no fear of being alone. Actually, I prefer to be alone. It's way less complicated. My cat doesn't judge me for eating watermelon for dinner right over the kitchen sink so that I don't have to wash another dish. She just sits on my lap and purrs while I type. That's why I post pictures of me with bad breath, bags under my eyes, acne and no hair brushes... because I need to just be me for awhile. I need that to be enough. I need that to be enough for me.

Dan Pearce, from Single Dad Laughing, struggles with his weight and self-esteem. What we all struggle with is that feeling that we're somehow unlovable since we're imperfect. I'm glad to struggle with this rather than to delude myself that somehow the universe loves me above any others. My imperfections make me feel a part of the human race, rather than apart from it.

Please, please be imperfect. Those imperfections in the people I love are what make them human and therefore, accessible. It takes the pressure off of me too. Nothing is as real as me calling up a friend to say "Boy did I screw this up. Can you help me figure it out?", because I know that next week she's going to call me and say "Oh please help me dig out from under this mountain of laundry!" and together we'll heft the load.