Cataloging my stuff

I don't know if it's some kind of teacher nesting instinct, but as the "official" school year approaches, I get in a very organizational mood. Because this is not something that comes naturally to me most of the year, at least in terms of "stuff," (as opposed to time, schedules, etc.) I have to take advantage of the mood while it is here.

In previous years, this mood has been very focused on my sock drawer. I guess that's because when cool/cold weather comes, I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time looking for a matching pair of socks. Even in the winter, when I like to wear pantyhose for warmth, I still put socks over them to wear under boots.

This year, however, my efforts have been more expansive. It started over break when I started organizing my scrapbook stuff, including photos. Then I started organizing my bathroom stuff because our new, fancy master bath is almost finished, thanks to my husband's dedication and tunnel vision when involved in a project. He is a very good man, but an example of his focus is less than 24 hours after my (minor) surgery, he asked me,

"Hey, can you help me carry in a board?" (i.e. a giant piece of heavy wood).

"No,honey," I replied. "Remember that piece of paper they sent home from the hospital saying no more than 5 pounds?"

"Oh.Yeah." He thought about that for a few seconds, and said, "How long is that gonna last?"

Because I now have a Jacuzzi tub and a steam shower that plays music, he is forgiven these occasional slips. Plus my response was that it would last as long as I could milk it.

Anyway, back to organization. Here is the problem: I get somewhat befuddled when something can be classified in multiple ways. In going through the existing bathroom cabinet, I discovered I have a plethora of bath and shower gels, scented lotions, body butters, etc. I also have accumulated quite a pile of cosmetics, primarily because I go through periods where my use of them is quite minimal.

I divided the cosmetics into plastic bags of lip stuff, eye stuff, skin coloring stuff (foundation, blush, concealer). Then came the compact mirror. That would go into a new bag classified as "tools." That created a new problem...should the lip brush stay in the lip bag, or should that now go into the "tool" category? Same with the eye makeup brushes.

And do scented body lotions go with "stuff that makes my skin soft" or "stuff that makes me smell good"?

I had run into the same problem with scrapbooking stuff. I had long ago made a macro decision that most of my albums would be chronological by year, with special albums created for special events (big trips, milestone anniversaries, etc.) But I decided to organize my photos in boxes by person and person's descendants. The problem I ran into there was representatives of multiple nuclear families in some of the photos, creating a new subcategory of "grandchildren" or "nieces and nephews." And where do the photos of my now deceased cat go?

Then there are the accessories. Scrapbookers usually have cardstock and decorated paper in various sizes, stickers (pictures, letters, borders), die-cuts (pictures, letters, borders), a variety of adhesives, stacks of quotations on vellum, markers, chalks, stamps, dies for making their own die-cuts, etc, etc, etc. One can easily see the nightmare there. Do I put things together by what they are, and what are they? All stickers together, or all borders together? Or should I organize by theme?

I have actually discovered the cataloging class ("Organization of Knowledge") that I took last summer has been helpful in making this a little less stressful. I realize organization is all about retrieval, but I feel like I will forget my "micro" decisions and lose track of this stuff all over again.

However, that always results in the most delightful part of the organization process, wherein one says happily,

"Hey, I forgot I had this. Cool."

The Big Folk Music Scare

I used to listen to comedy albums by Martin Mull or go to his concerts in the late
70s, and he had this line I loved before one of the songs: "Remember the big folk music scare of the 60's? That crap almost caught on!" I've always loved the line, but secretly liked lots of folk music. Like my love of mayonnaise-intensive salads (potato, tuna, egg, etc.) it's a dark secret I don't share with everybody (although I guess I just have.)

However, there are a few instruments that make me agree with the sentiment, chief among them the dulcimer. There is a folk festival going on this weekend in the town where my church is, and there was a folk group performing at the church itself. I love fiddles, harmonicas, banjos, etc. but I do not like the dulcimer!! I had a fantasy of going up and grabbing that thing and heaving it through the stained-glass window! (Not the one with the sacred images, no, no, no. I mean one of the abstract ones that are supposed to represent manufacturing and industry, according to the church historian.)

And of course, I would never, ever do such a thing, being pretty mild-mannered in general. And the windows are too high, and I can't even really throw a ball very well, so I couldn't even if I really wanted to.

I just wanted to express how listening to the dulcimer makes me feel. Clearly, I did not stay for the dulcimer workshop following the service.

A brief entry before I retire for the night

So I said I'd write every day during vacation, but I had to help with a home improvement thing. I really wasn't very much help, but it was time consuming. I just washed the fiberglass off of myself, and now I'm going to bed. We're more careful now since we found ourselves in a bed of fiberglass (not FULL of it, but it doesn't take much) a couple of weeks ago. NOT pleasant.

The good thing is I finished a book today and started another. I hope to keep up that rhythm throughout vacation. And now to bed.

"Vacation" plans (such as they are)

As of yesterday, I'm on "vacation" for a couple of weeks--on the break between classes I teach as well as classes I take.

Except for a brief overnight visit "Up North" to visit our favorite restaurant by the bay on our anniversary, in a lovely little resort town, and gambling a little, I don't have traveling plans. However,I plan to do some of my favorite things: scrapbooking, splashing around in the pool,and spending time with friends.

Since I can't actually go to China to see the Olympics, I'm looking forward to going to an Olympics party hosted by my friend who lives and teaches in China, and who is visiting friends and family here now. She says she's having it not only because she's been inundated with "Olympic fever" for the past four years, but also because she has missed the past four Super Bowls.

I have been getting a head start on the scrapbooking over the past few weeks for two reasons: I had minor surgery which was a piece of cake, but the anesthesia left me with brain fog that left me useless to do anything but play with paper, glue, photos and scissors for a week (even though I had to go back to work and turn in a paper for two days after the surgery). Also, one of my many college roommates got in touch with me via Facebook and she is a scrapbooker. She kept talking about her Cricut, an electronic die-cutting machine. I ordered one on eBay and it is a lot of fun (but I'm glad I got it after the brain fog lifted. There is a sharp rotating blade involved.)

I noticed as I sorted through the "basket o'crap," a collection of ephemera I keep for "archiving" later, that despite my last post, I really did get out a lot. In fact, the collection of tickets, programs, invitations,photos and so on suggests an almost frantic busy-ness. I don't know why I have it in my head that I was such a homebody then. Maybe being home alone most of the time when I WAS home distorted the experience.

I also plan on blogging every day. I have been very remiss. As I have mentioned in previous posts, the blogging seems to complement the scrapbooking because it provides context to photos and such I may have forgotten about, or reminds me of dates or general time frames. Now, on with my vacation!

My virtual social life

Wow! It has been a long time since I've written here. I've thought about things I want to write about, but I don't write them down and then I forget them.

Another reason is that I've been spending time on social networking sites like Facebook and occasionally MySpace. Various branches of family and friends inhabit those spaces and they have actually become a convenient form of communication. I prefer Facebook because it has games and other applications I like. (My son and I just completed the longest game of Scrabulous ever, I think, probably started the last time I wrote here.)

So I guess this is the thing that has been on my mind recently, and these thoughts are not exactly original. They are concerning to me though. Nowadays I can spend entire days in my pajamas and have plenty of virtual company (people I know in real life the majority of the time) and I can do other things too. I just completed my first completely online class and probably have done better than I have done in any class ever.

I have always had a hard time pushing myself out the door except for work, classes, buying groceries, planned social events and other life necessities, but before my desire for human contact would push me out of my comfort zone. When Ron was gone I thought I would seek out more company, and while I planned or initiated a few outings or had get-togethers at my house with others, most of the time I cocooned even more than usual.

Now, though, I can get the kind of interaction I like without having to deal with the parts that I've always found uncomfortable (greeting and leave-taking, knowing when to end a conversation, worrying about my hair, clothes, weight, mannerisms.) I think it is good to work on one's weaknesses, but now I don't have to in order to get what I need. Those issues are not going to improve if I don't make myself work on them.

My online class

I’m in the process of taking my first completely online class and it’s actually kind of fun. A couple of things have been helpful. One is that the very first class I took in my program was partly face-to-face and partly online, with one or the other occurring about every other week. (This was especially helpful since the class was out of town..) I got used to going to the course management system and posting on the discussion board, submitting assignments electronically and so on (although I’m grateful my husband hadn’t left the country yet because I needed a little help with the assignment posting function). The other thing I think was helpful is blogging. I have gotten used to putting things out there for all the world to read, as well as commenting on what other people have written, so that has made interacting with classmates and the instructor on a discussion board pretty comfortable.

I also got a new laptop for Mother’s Day (after months of campaigning, whining, etc.) and having a new “toy” has made the class that much more fun. I’m still using the desktop from time to time, though, because I have a lot of information saved on here and my stepson is going to help me with a few things before I transfer some of that information. Also, I can’t find my flash drive right now, but I’m pretty sure it’s not as lost as my iPod. I’ve actually been cleaning and organizing a lot of stuff, and ironically, that’s when things start to disappear.

What I really like about the online class is being able to “attend” class in my pajamas while I have a glass of wine and come and go as I please. What I don’t like is there were some technical problems with getting the course up and running (on the institution’s end), and when organizing due dates for my assignment on a calendar, I discovered it’s one of those accelerated summer courses in which something is due constantly. (My other summer class, a face-to-face one, is longer). The combination of getting a late start on some aspects of it and the short time span means that I have a lot of catching up to do in a hurry.
Fortunately I have a couple more weeks off of work right now so I have time to get caught up, so I guess it’s time to get at it.

School trip to Greenfield Village

Still here--update

I have been very busy with work, grad school, and the joys and frustrations of my husband's constant remodeling (I am in a paradise of new appliances, which is particularly pleasant after having several of them decide to go on the blink during his absence. We did not really need ALL the new appliances, but of course the new washer required its matching dryer and so on.) That is one reason I have not posted for a long time.

Also, it's my understanding that generally, one should not blog angry, and I have frequently been angry over the past few months. Not so much angry, I guess, but just one of those extended periods in which I have a bad attitude. As much as I hate to admit it, those things they say about getting enough sleep, eating properly and so on seem to actually be helpful. Cookies are not nearly as therapeutic as they pretend to be at first.

But there has been good stuff...the best being the trip to Austin, Texas that Ron and I took during what my workplace calls "spring" break...which is pretty much mid-winter around here. Except for the day we left Austin, the weather was actually pretty nice there and we had an opportunity to see green grass and flowers...so good for the soul. We visited the State Capitol, the state history museum, the LBJ Museum and the Blanton Art Museum at UT saw a Texas Independence Day parade, went to a comedy club on 6th street and to a State Fair/Rodeo/Concert. I bought some cowgirl boots, too. I can't wait to wear them somewhere, but of course, there will be no horseback riding or anything like that. Nothing good can come of that.

So now I want to move there, but I think this is the pattern now: We will plan another trip, look at some property, Ron will want to make an offer and I will stay up all night and cry and cry and cry about how I can't leave here. Then we'll go to Portland, Oregon, which is my next possible consideration for a new home. Again, Step One: Visit just to relax and look around. Step Two: property search and tears. My feeling is when we find the proper place, a peace we have never known will descend upon us (I know, I know.)

Tonight I am looking forward to some "girl time" with some friends and pizza and wine and chocolate. In a few weeks I will have a couple of weeks off of work so maybe I can work on frustrating loose ends and not have to be thinking in so many different directions. I am hoping to use that time to adjust my attitude and work on a healthy lifestyle (except when there is a pizza/wine/chocolate opportunity) and perhaps do some more blogging.

Empathy

For almost as long as I have been teaching the class, I have required my ESL Reading students to do a weekly current events journal. They have to read an American newspaper, magazine, or Web site (although the article itself can be about another country). They then have to write two paragraphs: the first a summary in their own words, and the second, their commentary on it. I want them to read in English outside the classroom, as well as get a feel for various American perspectives. (Understanding American culture is part of our program.)

I realize now that I have probably had a cavalier attitude for how complicated, if not difficult, this is for them.

In my Academic Libraries class (even though I'm specializing in School Media Specialist, my adviser helped me arrange this to expand my options), we don't have a required textbook. Instead, each week, we have a theme such as scholarly communication, personnel,budgeting, etc.We then must look in the professional literature (which can include literature outside the library profession) and choose two articles. We have to write an evaluative abstract of about 250 words for one of them, and give an annotated citation for the other. Sounds simple enough, right?

My database searching behaviors have become more efficient and precise, but I almost always end up printing out more than two articles before determining which ones I will use. I tend to start this assignment toward the end of the week (Wednesday night or Thursday; my class is Saturday). That's because the beginning of the week is spent preparing for work and my Tuesday night class. Similarly, my students have two or three other classes to prepare for, as well as the stuff of life we all have to deal with.

I almost always (well, OK, always) end up finishing this assignment very early Saturday morning. I need to turn the information over in my head, mentally consolidate what I was reading, then try to evaluate and cover the main points concisely. While one gets a little more leeway regarding paraphrasing when writing an abstract, I still like my work to reflect that I have processed the information as well as I could.

Where I run into difficulty is when I get into unfamiliar territory, such as budgeting. The accounting vocabulary is unfamiliar to me, and many articles are quantitative, so I must also deal with the vocabulary of statistics. Paraphrasing and summarizing becomes so much more difficult, and I edit both as I begin to write the abstract in longhand on Friday night (which seems to help my thinking process), and as I edit it on the computer on Saturday morning. It is not quick, though. It's like a stew I have to let simmer for days.

I finally understand that my students probably have a similar process for their current events assignment. They have to search for something that interests them and that they can absorb, process it in a second language, then summarize in their own words and provide some commentary. Because it's fairly easy for me to grade (I read fast and provide comments and minor proofreading/editing), I have been assuming it's not that hard for them to do.

I won't stop requiring it because I think it's valuable. I also enjoy this approach in the class I'm taking. A couple of classmates and I agreed yesterday that this procedure made us feel like "real" graduate students. Although I have had to read lots of professional/scholarly literature specifically assigned or that I found for papers, essentially creating the text as a group by choosing our own theme-based articles (supplementing our instructor's prepared lecture) is quite satisfying.

I will now approach my students' work on their current events journal with much more appreciation of the time and thought they had to expend to do the assignment well.

America Smells Like..

I like to read books either about Americans living in foreign countries, or about people from foreign countries living in the United States. The former is the most interesting because it's a way to see ourselves in ways we don't usually think about.

One perception of America that is particularly interesting to me is smell, perhaps because that seems to be the strongest of my own five senses. The smell of a country first aroused my interest when I read The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, and one of the characters who comes to America says it's the only country that has no smell.

Also, a few years ago, some of the people I work with invited our boss out for a beer on Boss' Day (which he actually insisted on paying for because he said he made more money than all of us.) He is from Korea, but has lived her for many years, and I believe he is a U.S. citizen. However, he makes frequent trips back to Korea for both personal and business purposes. We asked him which country felt like home, and he said it was Korea. he said Korea smells like kimchee, but America smells like cheese.

Last summer, I read John Pomfret's book Chinese Lessons. He wrote that some of his classmates were worried about rooming with Americans, some of them having heard that Americans smell like butter.

The most recent book like this I have read is Ha Jin's A Free Life. He writes that the first time on the plane to the U.S., many Chinese could not eat the meal served because of an overwhelming, sickening smell that so permeates the atmosphere in the United States that one can even smell traces of it on the fruits and vegetables in U.S. supermarkets.

I was puzzled as to what this smell might be. At first I thought it might be store bread, the smell of which Anne Tyler points out in Breathing Lessons. Upon doing a little Googling, however, I have come to believe that the smell Ha Jin is describing is fabric softener. However, various people on various blogs have suggested french fry grease and other theories. And if you investigate, you will discover there is a lot of conversation about the smell of countries

So now I'm curious. Does America smell more like dairy products or fabric softener? Or does it smell like something else?

My year in review

This isn't something I'd normally do, but this has been an unusually "heightened" year, involving travel, self-reliance, education, property damage, and family drama. Here, then, is a month by month breakdown of the events of this year.

January--At the age of 47, I finally start graduate school.

February--My husband is offered an opportunity to take a four-month assignment in India. I am delighted, but panic a bit, because he is the house guy. I am daunted (and rightly so, it turns out) at the thought of holding down the fort.

March--My husband takes an exploratory trip to India at the end of the month.

April--He returns to India to begin the assignment. I conclude my first semester of grad school, which I approached in a toe-in-the-water sort of way with one class. I get an A, so now feel brave enough to try two classes. Fortunately, I can take them locally.

May/June--I start my second semester of grad school. I also experience household annoyance #1. Someone has an accident down the street from me, resulting in one of the cars careening down the street, knocking down my mailbox, and a the car's fascia falling off and tumbling into my driveway. I was actually walking onto the driveway from the backyard when this happened.

I then have to call handymen, which is a thing I have never had to do because my husband is a handy guy. Also, I have to call insurance companies while lacking info about who was in this accident because I have to wait on the police report, yada, yada. It makes me too tired to even think about it now. Long story short--my husband comes home for a few days on a scheduled break, and fixes it himself before returning to India again. The insurance company of the at-fault driver eventually covers the expenses.

July-- I host and enjoy our annual family 3rd of July (because that's the fireworks day) celebration, even though I can't get the grill to work (I broiled the chicken instead). The pool, however, which I have been maintaining myself for the first time, sparkles. (My husband opened it back when he was home.) I finish my second semester of grad school (and my work semester) at the end of the month, attend my 30th high school reunion, then go off to meet my husband in Amsterdam. I had never gotten on a plane alone before, so that was a bit of an adventure for me.

August--I thoroughly enjoy my time in Amsterdam with my husband. He returns home with me for a few days, then goes back to India to wrap some things up. At the end of the month, there is a week of severe storms in the midwest. On Friday of that week, there was a tornado in a nearby town. The night before that (also coinciding with my first day back at work), though, my neighbor's tree is struck by lightning, causing it to fall into my backyard. It crushes her gazebo and my chain-link fence, and punctures a hole through our swimming pool's winter cover (which, thankfully, we had put on before my husband went back to India, or the damage to the pool would have been awful). It took down my (and only my) power lines, resulting in no electricity, no phone, and no Internet. I spend the night at the house of the neighbors who have the offending tree.

September-- My son starts grad school. Because of the August storm, this is a month of calling power companies, tree removal people, pool/repair concrete folks, and the insurance company. My husband is now in Russia and wants me to come visit, which involves applying for a visa as quickly as possible (also something that makes me too tired when I think about it now.) I also start my third semester of grad school. I find out during this time that one of my family member's marriage has fallen apart (to everyone's surprise) and that he has been having serious health and emotional problems.

October--September blurs into October. The tree has been removed, the fence repaired, but the first pool guy I called never really communicates with me, so then I get a new pool guy who replaces the cover. I finish my 8-week work session, so there is a week where I have to write and grade exams and calculate grades, turn in a project for the class I'm taking, and get ready to leave for Russia (I have also been tutoring twice a week for pretty much the course of this entire narrative.) I also need to prepare lesson plans for two weeks for my sub.During this week, there is an unseasonable evening of storms involving several tornado warnings, so spending two nights before I left grading papers in my basement until I go to my neighbor's house because I don't want to be alone if trees start to fall again. Finally, I leave for Russia. As October turns into November, I enjoy two wonderful weeks in St. Petersburg.

November--I return from Russia on a Sunday night, go to work on Monday, spend all day Tuesday finishing a project for a class on Tuesday night, send an e-mail to my Wednesday night teacher begging for mercy and a 24-hour extension for the project that is due Wednesday night (which he mercifully grants), attend class on Wednesday night, and spend all day and night Thursday finishing the Wednesday night project (thank God for digital Drop Boxes.) I promise, I had worked on these in Russia, but just didn't have everything I needed there.

Thanksgiving was pretty low-key, just the way I needed and wanted it.

December--Much scrambling to finish my work semester, my school semester, do some minimal Christmas shopping and decorating. My husband comes home for good (oh, and did I mention I had also been scrambling around rounding up & mailing various documents regarding his upcoming retirement and dealing with the [very annoying] relevant investment company [which I can't write about too much, or I will burst into flames]). Christmas was lovely, but I have pretty much been spending the last several days sleeping or reading my library books...ones I checked out to read for FUN.

Also, sometime during these months, my washer broke, my oven is usable but has developed a problem that requires its replacement, and both panes of glass broke out of my side storm door during a windstorm.

In a week or so, it will all start up again, but my husband will be home. Yay! I told him next time he leaves again (which he might if he gets contract work during retirement) I want power of attorney and a condo. He said I can have them, but I will have to stop by the house once a week to check on the house. :-(

I must say, during this time, my oldest stepson and his wife and my next-door neighbors have been absolutely wonderful to me. Without them, these past few months would have been so much harder. It has been one of the most interesting years of my life, but I'm sort of glad to put it to bed.

Happy New Year!

A thing that annoys me

I hate it when people call Banana Republic (the store) "Banana." It makes me unreasonably angry. That's all.

Where my cookies at?

I like the food here. I do. At the OK market, there is an an entire aisle devoted to sausage. You can also buy dumplings in bulk. These are a few (or a couple) of my favorite things. However, in my trips abroad, one thing has eluded me. That is, a proper noshing cookie.

There are all kinds of wonderful biscuit-type confections to have with tea and coffee, and they are wonderful for that purpose. My stepson's wife (and my very dear friend) and I both enjoy day-old baked goods for the same purpose. They have lost just enough moisture and have just the right consistency to accompany a hot beverage.

What I am talking about is the kind you sit in front of the TV with (not at the table, like a lady, where I have my tea and biscuits). They should be full of bad stuff, including perhaps, high-fructose corn syrup (by which I am horrified in all other products). I'm talking Chips Ahoy, Oreos, and proper ones that are sweet, sweet, sweet...not like the abominations I once had in China. I know they must be good to others too (the Chips Ahoy) because my Korean visitors last summer bought them and tried to bring them to a concert and I had to tell them it was not allowed--to my chagrin as well as theirs, I assured them. And, for supposedly not liking sweets, they sure filled my grocery cart up with Sugar Frosted Flakes and the like (to my delight, because then I got to eat them too.)

The cookies should be eaten right out of the bag or box with crumbs falling right into one's lap, and there should be much channel switching. It's best to settle on something on TV Land or Lifetime. (There is a Hallmark channel on the satellite system here that serves a similar purpose, but no proper cookies). Maybe I just need to do some more shopping and experimenting. For now, I shall just have another biscuit while I watch CNN International. (I have to stay here for now because I have a load of wash in progress.)

How do they look at themselves in the mirror?

Well, I'm going off the travel topic for this post. From time to time, I check my e-mail, and because of various discussion lists I'm on, there will be job postings for either ESL teachers or librarians. After they go through a lengthy list of qualifications for the job, always including a Master's Degree and experience, one often discovers the job is part-time for something like 16-21 dollars an hour. Now, I think the ESL teachers are harder to come by than the librarians (where I live, at least) but seriously, don't they feel bad about asking for that in return for what they're willing to give? It's one of the (many) reasons I decided not to pursue my MA in TESOL. At the university nearby, it even said on the Web site the last time I checked it that it's a pretty sure bet you'll be working part time unless you want to arrange conferences and such. At least in the library world, there's some chance of working full time, although I know that situation has many drawbacks as well right now. Why would someone pursue a master's in an area in which there is little chance of making a living wage (or salary?) And it's one of the areas in education in which there is a shortage of qualified teachers. Aren't these people in education and ESL going to conferences every two minutes? It seems like they could get together and work out the faulty logic on this one.

Some tourist-y stuff, some everyday stuff

I have now visited The Hermitage, seen Madame Butterfly at the Mariinsky Theater, and gone inside The Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood.

I have also gone grocery shopping at what is known in American retail jargon as a "hypermarket," (kind of what Americans might call a superstore). In other words, one of those stores in which you can buy clothing, groceries, tires, etc. Also, last night, we went to an Azerbajian (Azerbajiani?) restaurant, and I had something delicious called Chicken Sadj. I'm not sure if it is an Azerbajian or Russian dish because I think the restaurant offered both. It had chicken, eggplant, potatoes, green peppers, tomatoes, and apples. It was served on a wok-type thing with fire in the middle, and that was set upon a little bucket of coals.

This was a somewhat masculine place (although women were there) with lots of men smoking, a few drinking, and watching the soccer game. I don't particularly like cigarette smoke and at home would avoid it, but I liked the earthiness of this place. It made me feel like I was somplace different, and that is why one travels, right? Except, like everywhere, they played a lot of American music.

I said to my husband that it's kind of hard not to feel cocky, even when you know it's wrong and obnoxious, when almost everywhere you go you can find your language spoken and "your" music playing; you can also find your fast food restaurants. I'm sure that's more about marketing than anything else, but it does make it hard not to feel a little smug. Of course, in the USA, we are influenced by so many cultures, it is hard to claim one as our very own.

The Hermitage was wonderful, but overwhelming. It used to be the Winter Palace (at least part of it), from 1744-1762 the official residence of the Imperial family. There are many aspects to it and I will go back again, I think. There is so much art there to see, it seems impossible for any to be left for any other museum in the world. We were on the third floor (19th and 20th Century art) when the place just started closing; no anoouncement, just the people who sit in chairs in each of the rooms got up, started turning off lights, getting their coats on, etc. We were getting a little panicky heading out looking for exits, lights going off either ahead of us or behind us as we retraced our path through every room. When we got to the first floor, there were lots of visitors there just leaving and that was a relief. On the second and third floors i think we were starting to get worried about getting locked in there.

Madame Butterfly was fine, but I preferred the ballet. It is just too hard for me as a modern western woman to buy into the story. You're going to marry me, go off with the fleet, come back a few years later with an American wife and ask me to hand my child over, and I'm going to do it and kill myself? Oh, hell no. In my version, there would be a very Springer-like ending, but I guess that is not the stuff of great art now, is it?

I'm so glad we went into the Church on Spilled Blood. The church outside is very colorful and lovely, but the inside is amazing. There are walls and walls of incredible mosaics depicting Biblical scenes as well as gorgeous woodwork. The place had been damaged by war and had been used as a warehouse, I think for an opera company in later years, but has been beautifully restored. It's not a big place at which one necessarily spends a lot of time, but it is breathtaking. Near the gift shop area, there is a wall of photos which document its restoration. It is heartbreaking to see the damage it once suffered.

Of course, the worst cost of war is always the human cost in terms of lives and injuries to both body and soul. However, seeing what it does to the remarkable achievements of human beings also makes one shudder. Of course, it is easier to resrore a building than a person, but still requires great cost and commitment.

When I travel, I'm happy if I get to experience the "everydayness" of life, so I really enjoy things like trips to the grocery store. Although some things are written in English, most products had Cyrillic script labels so one either buys products that are instantly recognizable by the pictures, or by categorizing them with the other products in the aisle. When I first got here, I almost made myself a peanut butter and tomato sauce sandwich, because the jars in the fridge were about the same size and the inside seemed to be about the same consistency and color. In fact, I had the first smear of "jelly" on the peanut butter when I thought the aroma of it seemed unusually rich and tomato-ey.

My conditioner, a brand I sometimes use at home, is written on in Cyrillic script, mostly, but in English promises me "Respect and Balance." I get balance, but respect? Wow. Who knew? It's about damn time I got a little respect from my hair...and all for a few rubles. I'm going to try to back-translate it to see what they were going for. I'm guessing something similar to "control."

More from St. Petersburg

On Monday, we went to a bridge near the Church of the
Savior on Spilled Blood. As we approached the bridge, my husband told me that there was usually a wedding party there having pictures taken. Sure enough, there were two wedding parties. Another thing he told me that happens there is that the groom picks up the bride and carries her across the bridge. We saw them do that too.
I did ask him "Who gets married on a Monday?" and he told me just about any day he has come here, no matter what day of the week, there has been a wedding.

The brides' dresses were a bit more ornate than most of the dresses that are currently popular in the USA. They looked beautiful,though, and because it was a cold day, they wore little faux fur jackets with their dresses. The bridesmaids, though, had full-on parkas over their bridesmaids' gowns which surprised me a bit, because people have struck me as rather fashionable. The parka/ gown combo made me feel right at home. (Although we will generally take it up a notch for a wedding--at least the ladies). They looked pretty impatient with the picture taking; everyone's teeth were chattering.

We went to a restaurant featuring Russian food that evening and I had Solyanka, a sweet/sour/spicy soup which the server described as having pickled cucumbers and "meat." There was some sausage in it, and some other diced meat. It was actually pretty tasty, served with a side container of sour cream. I will eat a lot of things if I am given sour cream to have with them. Plus my time in China has made me pretty adventurous regarding meat. Eat it now, ask questions later. If ever. Need to know basis. It was good, though. I will try to make it at home.

Last night we went to the Mariinsky Ballet and Opera Theater to see the ballet The Sleeping Beauty. It was a great ballet, but long. There were three intermissions which I think must have been 15-20 minutes each. The dancing was wonderful and amazing; the costumes were gorgeous. The theater is elegant with gold-leaf and crystal chandeliers and those curtained boxes like you see in old movies.The domed ceiling had a painting and a frieze (I think) around the painting. On Friday, we will go there again to see the opera Madama Butterfly.

We tried to go to the Hermitage today but we got there too late to buy tickets (having slept late after the late night at the ballet, then being too wound up to go to sleep right away.) I think we will try to go tomorrow.

(If you have left me a comment, it will show up soon...just as soon as I can get this Cyrillic alphabet down pat, and perhaps a Russian/English dictionary so I know whether I'm saying to allow or disallow it. The unfamiliar characters are messing with my spatial memory so I can't remember which side means what.)

Greetings from St. Petersburg!

OK, we're going to try this and see what happens. First of all, for some reason, I was surprised to log on to Blogger and see everything in Russian, including my profile. Since I can't read Cyrillic, i'm just sort of clicking spaces by memory and figuring out what to do from the graphics I recognize.

I left Saturday and arrived here yesterday (Sunday). It was amazing to ride into St. Petersburg and see how different everything suddenly looked compared to everything on the outskirts. It's quite lovely here with amazing architecture. I haven't visited anywhere yet; I just took a walk with my husband at night in which he tried to orient me a bit, but between jet lag and general confusion I experience when I travel, that just wasn't happening yet.

In addition to the trip, I had just experienced the busiest week of my life. I had a group project including presentation due in my School Media Specialist class on Wednesday night. I had to prepare final exams for my grammar and reading classes, correct those, and calculate and turn in my final grades before I left. I also had to leave plans for Molly, the teacher who is subbing for me for two weeks, as well as syllabi for those courses because it's now the beginning of that session. That's in addition to preparations I had to make for the trip, including some items I had to round up for my husband (among them,half-inch sticky dots, which I thought would be the easiest thing...but no. Quarter-inch, three-quarters, no problem, but half-inch proved more elusive).

The biggest thing I noticed is that the majority of people walking about in the evening seemed young, fit, and very nicely dressed, so I was glad it was kind of dark because I was looking very travel-weary and not young, fit, nor particualarly nicely dressed (having pretty much been wearing the same thing for almost 24 hours and just too damn tired to change.)

The place we are staying is within walking distance of the Hermitage (I have now seen the exterior) and some historical churches. There were some people singing in the street when we took a walk, and my husband tells me that's not unusual. I heard some music playing as we passed one building. It was American: What a Wonderful World, which I had actually heard on the radio in the apartment earlier.

I am kind of proud of this: this is the second time I met my husband somewhere, flying on my own. This is the kind of thing that used to be very anxiety-provoking for me. It still is a bit, but not nearly as much as it used to be. I've discovered there are very predictable events in terms of the flight (although I made a point of selecting a flight that connected in Amsterdam rather than Paris since I have now been in that airport. That results in similar meals, etc.) once I have actually visited some places, I will update.

(About my last strange, out-of-context entry: I was trying to show my brother how to set up a blog so he will stop sending 10,000 e-mails a week. Someday I will modify and contextualize it).

My brother's here!

My brother is visiting me today after his participation in the
Michigan Remembers Run.

My "American" need for water and space

I've been going through this identity process the past year or so of determining how I am "American." I found myself in the fall starting to become very frustrated (after having done this kind of work off and on for over 15 years) dealing with the cultural differences I encounter daily in my job, whereas in the past I had usually been delighted or charmed by them. My friend Pat, who has studied and still spends time examining intercultural communication, assured me this is a very normal part of the process and helps one to establish the values, customs, ideals, etc. that are truly held dear, rather than the ones just taken for granted because that's the way everyone else seems to operate.

Now I've just returned from a trip to Amsterdam which I loved, loved, loved. There were many international tourists there, as well as locals, of course. Because I enjoyed the trip so much, the things I didn't like stood out.

One was that I was so thirsty all the time. I was when I went to China several years ago as well. I'm not a Big Gulp-swilling American, but I do like to drink lots of water with my meals, perhaps along with another beverage. In most restaurants in Amsterdam they won't give you tap water but want you to buy bottled water. If you order something like iced tea (which, unless I'm in the south, I always drink unsweetened), it comes in a teeny-tiny (albeit adorable) bottle, often carbonated and sweetened. (And I know I'm lucky to be getting iced tea at all.) I found myself ordering beer more often just because it comes in more generous portions. (Unfortunately, I will too now.)

The other thing that makes me crazy (and did in China)is being jostled or bumped without the jostler/bumper saying "excuse me" or "sorry" or "pardon" (in whatever language). Intellectually, I understand this doesn't happen everywhere, for a variety of reasons. (And I should point out, it was accompanied from time to time with an apology.) But...but...it SHOULD. I understand my "bubble" and I understand that, being somewhat claustrophobic, this might bother me more than most. When it is accompanied by an apology, though, I can physically feel my agitation subside.

When my husband gets the photos loaded on our computer, I'll write about how truly fun it was. This American identity issue has really resonated for me these past several months, so I'll write about it more in other posts.

Enjoying our visitors

Life has been very busy lately, but in a good way. On Friday night through Monday morning, I hosted two young Korean women for a weekend home stay. Our college just hosted eighteen visiting university students and their chaperone, and they were among those visitors.

We frequently have visitors from other countries in our department, but I haven't been involved with them before. In fact, usually I'm unaware or only vaguely aware of their presence. This time, though, I taught an ESL class for them, accompanied them on one of their field trips, and hosted the two young women. They also invited me to help judge a "food festival," a team cooking contest they had at their residential-style hotel.

It was so much fun for me that even though I've been very busy with my job, classes, and homework and holding down the fort while my husband is away (more about that in a future post) I feel like I've been on kind of a vacation. (Not one of the restful kinds, like lying on a Mexican beach--rather, one of the busy and stimulating kinds, like going to Washington D.C. or Disney World.)

They are flying home as I write this, and I will miss them. I hope they will send me some photos, since I didn't take any, and if they do, I will post them here. I'll also write about some of the things I did both with the young women and with the class, whether or not I get some photographs.

Hipper librarians

This New York Times article has been circulated on several listservs I’m on, as well as e-mailed to me by my son. It discusses the "hipper" new librarians, and I guess that’s a good thing. I still find it concerning in terms of this being a mid-life career change for me. I couldn’t really pull off "hip" when I was young, so I doubt that’s going to get easier now.

I guess the age discrimination thing goes both ways, though. Here is a letter from a woman who feel she is experiencing age discrimination in the job market, and another from someone who feels she is having trouble because of her youthful appearance. I guess the thing to do would be to take the "do" advice from one of them, and interchange them in order to have "don’t" advice.

If all else fails, I guess I’ll have to get a tattoo, or at least get something besides my ears pierced. I always thought that eyebrow thing looked kind of cute.

Librarian

I love this video!

Still willing to learn

I had originally decided the theme of this blog was going to be issues of middle age, and had sort of let some of that go. I felt like I was sometimes looking for trouble where perhaps none existed in terms of age discrimination and stereotypes.
Now, though, with library school, I am making a significant investment of time and money, and I truly feel that some of the things I’m observing and hearing will be detrimental to me in tangible ways.
For example, in my Reference class on Saturday, the head of the library consortium in my state was a guest speaker. Although rather youthful looking, the references/dates he referred to indicated he is probably just a couple years older than me.
He referred to things such as blogs, wikis, Second Life, and social networking sites, and when he did, he mentioned that much younger colleagues were more involved in that. He would say things like "That’s not my demo." This is a person who has worked very hard and achieved great things in terms of libraries in our state. However, in addition to alluding that the aforementioned items were "young people" things, he also mentioned some things he wanted to do before he retired, went to the Caribbean, etc.
He certainly deserves that, but I’m not ready for that. I feel I have at least a good twenty years of working life left, God willing, if not more. I feel I’ve finally collected enough experiences in which to attach new knowledge. I meet many young people who, in addition to their very hard work, have lived much more privileged lives than my young life was. I had to collect some of their experiences later in life. Now I’m ready to use my collected experience and knowledge to latch onto some new experience and knowledge.
Also, I know what all of the things he mentioned are and try to involve myself in most of them at least minimally, just because I like to know what everybody’s talking about. I don’t like it when other people (of all ages) spread the misconception that people my age and older are doddering idiots who can’t press a few computer keys, ask a few questions, read a few articles and books and figure out what’s what.
I will also sometimes hear younger people talk about older people and attribute difficulties they experience with them in the workplace (or wherever) to their age. Uh, no…they were probably change-resistant, inflexible, domineering control freaks (or whatever their problem is) even when they were young.
More later.

Gascony Beef Stew

This stew will make you want to live again on a bitter, cold, gray day in Michigan in February (or March, or April, or May). I had misplaced the recipe, but found my Christmas folder in a half-hearted attempt at cleaning my desk. My husband likes to bake it, after it has been prepared on the stove top, in a covered cast-iron pan. Be very careful, though. There might be some leakage into your oven, and the lid might stick to the pan, so you must let it cool before you pry it off. It's also very heavy. Served over mashed potatoes, though, (the original recipe suggested egg noodles, but I like potatoes) this is the ultimate comfort food. (Stephanie, I hope you find this.)

Gascony Beef Stew

1/2 pound bacon, sliced

3 cups (about 3 medium) onions, chopped

3 cups (about 1 1/4 lbs.) carrots, cut into bite-sized pieces

4 garlic cloves, bruised

1/2 teaspoon thyme

1/2 teaspoon sage

2 bay leaves, crumbled

2 teaspoons salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

6 pounds beef chuck, cut into 1-inch cubes

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 1/2 cups white wine

1/4 cup brandy

3 cups beef broth

2 cans diced tomatoes

Cook bacon in skillet over moderate heat until crisp. Drain and crumble. In large bowl combine bacon with onions, carrots, garlic, thyme, sage, bay leaves, salt and pepper.

Line bottom of 8 to 10 quart oven-proof casserole or Dutch oven with 1 cup vegetable mixture. Shake beef cubes in flour. layer half the beef over vegetables in casserole, placing cubes close together. Strew half the remaining vegetables over beef. Continue layering with remaining beef (adding all flour) and vegetables, and end with the vegetables.

Preheat oven to 325 F. pour wine, brandy, broth and tomatoes over stew. Add water, if necessary, to cover. Bring to a simmer on top of stove. Cover and place in oven; bake 3 hours. (Can be made ahead. Cool to room temperature; cover and freeze in freezer-proof container up to 4 weeks. Thaw at room temperature 4 hours. reheat in 350 F oven until bubbling, about 1 1/2 hours.) Makes 16 servings, about 435 calories each.

"Read and release" your books

I just saw this website: I'm going to print some labels and do this before I donate my books.
What a great idea!

Web 2.0 ... The Machine is Us/ing Us

This is scary, poetic, hypnotic and informative...and a couple of lessons worth of Library and Information Science.

Why I finally applied for library school

I applied to library school because of a Unitarian message from God. I had been thinking about this for a long time, had done some considerable checking online into the program I was interested in, and requested some materials to be mailed to me. This stuff was sitting around my house, and I would look at it from time to time and not do anything about it. Then I read Dana's blog one day and she had posted a list of Web comic links. One was Unshelved, which had a post that linked to Questionable Content, and there I saw it: a t-shirt that says "She blinded me with Library Science." And I thought, "I. Must. Have it." However, if I ordered this shirt, having no connection to library science, I would be a poseur. I, therefore, applied for the program. And now, ironically, I have no time to read books or visit libraries, unless as part of one of my many assignments.

New beginnings (and I can finally blog again!)

I had been unable to post for several days after I switched to the new Blogger (after having simply neglected my blog for several months). Whenever I tried to post, I would get the "unable to complete your request" message. It looks as things have been repaired, though, and I'm looking forward to learning how to use the new features. The most exciting thing happening right now, is, after lo, these many years, I am starting graduate school! I will be studying for a Master's degree in Library and Information Science, so I plan to learn to actually use the wonderful technology that's available. I'm starting slowly, with one class which begins tonight, so I'm still enthusiastic. Once the actual work begins, I'm sure I will be less enthusiastic, but I am nevertheless committed. Next time I will write about the odd set of circumstances which actually inspired me to finally apply for the program.

Home

While reading Dana's post about the relief of not having to fit in in foreign cultures, and then her discussion of exaggerating one’s “nativeness,” I started thinking again about something that has been on my mind for a while now. My husband and I have been exploring places to live when he retires, and when we visited one of them last summer, I just panicked when we were about to put an offer on some property there…I mean, a sleepless night and sobbing, weeping. It was awful.

It turns out there were some serious things at home that needed attention, but since then, things have calmed down (knock on wood). I continued the search for places to live through magazines, the Internet, etc. and I have come to this conclusion: I have fallen for my state like someone who is in an arranged marriage might fall in love with their spouse. I didn’t choose this state; I was born here. It was not my mother’s native state, so it’s not like there are generations who have been here

One of my clues was this: I have recently been something of an iTunes addict, and they have lists of songs relating to various themes. One was for my state and the major city in it. I looked at the list, and I thought, “My God, I love all of these songs.” It’s not something I can define or describe, but these songs, which span generations, touch me. I have wondered why I have never made popular culture choices that are “appropriate” to my age, and this is what I learned: it’s not about time for me, but place.

Then something else happened. I was researching another town online that had been recommended in a magazine, and I was reading Chamber of Commerce stuff, I think. It said that union membership in that state was low, and they said it like it was a good thing! What? I now live in a management family (although I belong to a union, and I recognize there are problems) but I just felt like I had experienced an insensitive attack on my religion. Yeah, they sometimes make life inconvenient, but they make it a little more fair. Do people really want to go back to the way it was before unions?

My state is also gorgeous. A lot of people I run into don’t know that because I live in one of the most geographically uninteresting parts of it. Some of the really stunning parts don’t have a lot of people living there permanently because tourism is the primary industry, or because you are more likely to live there if you are very well off. Nevertheless, I like it here, because this part of the state is one of the more integrated ones I’ve ever seen. People cross ethnic and racial and socioeconomic lines more deeply than I have seen in other places. I’ve had the opportunity in my life to hang out with people from a broad array of backgounds, particularly when I moved to my current home. I don’t agree with everybody here about everything, but I never feel like I have to.

I feel like when I move to a new state, I will have to spend a lot of time justifying and defending myself and the things I believe and value. I will have an accent (and I never thought I really had the accent of my home state until I listened to a message I had left on our home answering machine.) People won’t say “pop” or play euchre. (I don’t play euchre, either, but I need to be able to refuse to play it at a social gathering.)

I like to travel when I have the opportunity and hope I can do more of it. I like meeting new people and seeing different ways of doing things. This, though, is my home, and even though I will probably leave it someday, it will be one of the more difficult moments in my lfe.

Did you find my balloon?

Click the comments section and let me know.

My Summer Vacation: Parties!

Most of my summers are pretty quiet, with a graduation open house or shower or wedding here or there, but this summer, I was involved in planning several celebrations. First, I planned a casual celebration (actually, two) the day my son graduated from his university. Then, along with my brother and sister and sister-in-law, I helped plan a surprise half-birthday party for my mom's 80.5 birthday. Her birthday is on Christmas Eve, and she has never had a proper party. A surefire way to surprise people is to have a party when it's not their actual birthday. A month or so later, a co-worker and I threw a baby shower at my house for our friend Sandra. We had a Princess theme. I borrowed a gold velvety tablecloth and lots of silver and silverplate from a friend, and we had little bouquets of flowers in tiny silvery vases, and tiny sandwiches and whatnot...and we all wore paper princess crowns, but Sandra's was a little fancier and foil/metal and multi-colored. Most recently, my husband and I threw ourselves a 25th Anniversary party (with lots of contributions of time and talent from various family members.) It was much fancier than our wedding; it was a luncheon for about 70 people at a country club (our wedding reception was a party in our backyard with a band, which was actually a lot of fun.)

One of the things I am happy about is that I sort of joined the 21st century in the planning of the anniversary party. I made mix CD's to give away (all legally and on the up-and-up) I had never even made a mix tape back in the old days, let alone burned a CD. We made labels for the tins and the CDs on the computer. I also am pretty much the last person on earth, according to my son, to have never made a PowerPoint slide show (until now.) Of course, my husband and stepson had to put the music I had chosen with the slides I had made and get it into a usable condition, and my granddaughter informed me, with the self-assurance that only a fourteen-year-old girl can muster, that I should have used Moviemaker. (I don't have Moviemaker!)

There is one more little surprise party to go (and I know that person won't be reading my blog) but my only job is to buy some balloons. Otherwise, I just need to get a gift and card and eat at Old Country Buffet (a secret, guilty pleasure that I only engage in when someone else has planned an event there.)

Although I have enjoyed every party, I'm ready to settle down and begin the real New Year...the beginning of the school year. (Even though I worked in the summer, I always consider the fall semester the beginning...and I will spend this week in the ritual cleaning of my sock drawer.) Good times!

There is a commercial for the local cable company featuring two turtles (tortoises?) called the Slowskys. They are apparently a married turtle couple, and they talk about how they prefer the slower cable company rather than the fast connection of the company being advertised. "Where's the fire?" Mrs. Slowsky asks.

Although I love a fast cable connection, her attitude sort of expresses my love/hate relationship with technology. I love the fact that a few years ago, friends/ old roommates I hadn't heard from in twenty years started to e-mail me, and I them. I enjoy having my blog, although I really don't know how to use it to its full potential. I like being able to keep in contact with my family, even if I'm a world away.

There are some things that have gotten lost, though. When I was a teenager and a college student, buying an album was kind of special. I would take it home for the first time, and when I had my own stereo system (my first major independent purchase), I would open up the record, carefully put it on the turntable, and clean it with the special wiper that came with it. I would sit down and study the cover art and liner art, and I would read the lyrics on the liner note and try to learn as many songs as I could. When I played the album subsequent times, I always enjoyed putting an album on the turntable and feeling anticipation as I heard that subtle "scritch."

I guess the thing that comes closest now is seeing what's new on iTunes every Tuesday, which is a little more satisfying than just loading up and starting a CD cartridge. It's fun to browse around and see people's various comments about the songs and albums, and see what kind of mixes people have made. Still, it would be fun to get a hold of a turntable and play my old albums someday.

Recent developments

I have not posted on my blog for a long time, primarily because my home computer is out of commission. It is being fixed (hopefully) by an acquaintance of my husband who is doing it in his spare time, which apparently has not been much lately. I'm posting this at my workplace, but I'm not really "at work" right now. The very best news of late is this: my son has graduated from college! Woo-hoo! I had a lot of fun on his graduation day; I hope he did too. The graduation speaker (Christiane Ahmanpour!!) was excellent. It was a beautiful and only slightly chilly morning, and warmed up nicely later. Of course, I was very proud. Eleven of us had a lovely brunch at the student union, then we visited the university's botanical gardens at his girlfriend's suggestion. I was pretty impressed with my son's knowledge of the place. He also pointed out an old growth forest on the way to the gardens. he explained that this forest is off limits to visitors, which one of his professoers felt was a mistake, because people are more inclined to protect what they are familiar with. Apparently my son had spent some time in these parts for a class, and later visited on his own. Later more family members joined us at a restaurant/saloon for food, beer, etc. It was a great day.

My Rider

I was reading about Dick Cheney's and John Kerrey's "riders" as published in
The Smoking Gun--the stuff people want waiting in their hotel rooms for them. Not that I'll ever have the kind of fame, money, etc. that gets you that kind of thing, but I like to fantasize about it, the same way that I fantasize about my Oscar gown, what I'll wear to my husband's presidential inauguration, etc. So here's what I want:

*A fluffy pair of flannel pajamas and one of those nice fluffy hotel robes, and some booty slippers
*A selection of herbal and green teas in one of those sectioned tea boxes, and hot water in a ceramic pot, and a big, chunky mug, preferably with an art print on it
*A bowl of lemon slices
*Two bottles of Shiraz and half a dozen crystal wine glasses
*Magazines: People, Atlantic Monthly,Newsweek, Time, and the daily newspaper of whatever city I'm in
*Pepperidge Farm Mint Milano cookies
*Videos--The first season of Lost,or any of the Six Feet Under seasons
*An elliptical trainer

Wow, I'm really disappointed. These are pretty much things I can easily provide for myself. I guess that's why people want these things, though...the comforts of home.

The things I'm going to do "someday"

I have so many things in my head I think I will do when I get a big chunk of time, but then when I do, I forget what they were and just take a nap. Therefore, I'm going to document them here.

* figure out how to do cool things on my blog, and to find out why I can't create links although I'm following the instructions I used to.

*scan all my photos to the computer, put them on disks, and get them all scrapbooked

*clean my entire house (including closets) and gather and price items for a garage sale

*get a Master's Degree, which would involve a series of smaller tasks to initiate the process

*exercise on a regular basis

*watch the Godfather movies (I have never seen a Godfather movie in its entirety)--also Apocalypse Now and Citizen Kane

*read the boxed set of tiny Shakespeare books that I asked for and got several Christmases ago

*find my Christmas recipe folder!!! It's missing and I must have it!

*put photos in my dozens of empty frames

* buy some proper clothes (Goddess clothes, as my friend Susan would say)

* get a mammogram and make an eye doctor appointment

* read the manual that came with my car

* figure out how to use all the features on my cell phone

Well, I guess that's enough to keep me off the streets for the next few breaks.

Hospitals

Fortunately, she seems to be doing better now, but about two weeks ago my stepdaughter had a serious car accident on her way home from work, resulting in a badly broken hip, among other things. After the initial surgery, another surgery at another hospital a little over an hour from here,was required. Although she is still in the hospital, she sounded great when my husband spoke to her on the phone today and seems to be recovering nicely, although there is some more healing and rehab ahead of her.
(Update: I was interrupted when writing this Saturday. She will be returning to our hometown hospital tomorrow for rehab.)
Since early May of last year, I have had three family members in the hospital for some pretty serious stuff. That was preceded by two years where someone was in the hospital at least once for other serious stuff. I am happy to report that they are, if not necessarily all completely healthy, better off than they would have been without surgical/medical intervention.
It’s strange how you can go years and years without this stuff going on and then it becomes a weirdly normal part of your life—not the illness or injury that results in the hospital stay, but how the language of hospitals and getting around starts to become familiar: NPO, clear tray, rating pain on a scale of 1 to 10, etc.
But thank God for the hospitals, doctors, nurses, and other medical personnel that have made life better, safer, and healthier for my loved ones when they have been in some kind of trouble.

Scrubs and ageism

Several posts ago, I said that I would write about issues of age as they are represented in popular culture (and someday, when I can create a link...I have been having trouble doing that lately using the blogger instructions, I will edit this and include links.) I saw an issue that came up the other night on one of my favorite sitcoms, Scrubs, but I wanted to process it for a few days before I wrote about it.

This is a batch of new episodes, and J.D., the main character, has now become an attending physician supervising a group of interns. Among those interns is an older woman (comic premise, I'm sure, being that it is not bloody likely, which is true.) My issue is that this woman is presented as being slow-moving and constantly falling asleep.

One of the fun things about this show is that it actually explores, in a comedic way, the way we stereotype people, shown in the ways J.D. relates to his African-American friend Turk, and Turk's Hispanic wife,Carla, and even the ditzy, WASPY blonde (female) doctor, Elliot. So, initially, I thought, this is among the things this show does. Everybody is fair game, and so age would certainly not be off-limits.

But then I got to thinking about a syndicated column I read a couple of days ago (and I can't find it.) It was written by a Hispanic woman who discussed people who write her with legitimate questions, and the letters often begin "I know you will think I'm a racist, but...". She then discusses how the fear of being branded racist prevents us from discussing legitimate issues. Then she usually is able to point out to people that the way we stereotype people obscures other issues, such as poverty. Her point is, that real racism is something that ultimately results in some kind of economic hardship for people.

This is where I take issue with the Scrubs episode. Hollywood is notorious for age discrimination, and there is a class action suit brought by several writers over 40 against studios in Hollywood. http://www.writerscase.com/ Age is an economic issue in show business (as ethnicity has been, but that situation is changing to some extent.) My point is that an industry which is known for hurting people economically in this way (not only in the past, but currently and blatantly) is being very offensive when it is stereotyping in this manner.

Keeping track

I was filling out the new calendar from the old calendar a couple of days ago (primarily birthdays) and I noticed all the additional stuff that had been written in...doctor's appointments, get-togethers with friends, vacations, and so on. I realized that i had probably forgotten a lot of details of those events that might be helpful for my occasional pastime of scrapbooking, which should be more fun because of the Sizzix die-cut machine I requested and got for Christmas.

Therefore, I will occasionally be recording the excruciating minutiae of my life, not because it's good reading, but I've discovered going over old blog entries also helps me remember things.

My first act will be to record what I can recall that I got for Christmas 2005: the aforementioned Sizzix, Eminem CD (Curtain Call), slippers,slipper socks, a Pilates ball and DVD, (and I also gave Ron one, which is OK because they come in sizes according to your height)(Ron); a crystal candy jar or vase (Princess House)(Jeff and Roni); Sweater with crocheted hem and neck (Jamie); Le Creuset ceramic baking pans and a silicone one, jewelry box, and holly chip and dip server (Jay and Shari); scrapbook stickers, bath gel, and a Linkity game (Joe and Julie); money (Mom) :-) ; a "popcorn" container filled with movie snacks (Bob and Sherry); bottle of wine and candy (Jodi and Karl).restaurant gift certificate (Kathy); and various gifts & hostess gifts from friends--pedometer, A Christmas Carol DVD, teacups and homemade tea mix, cinnamon-scented gingerbread man trivet.

We had the usual Christmas Eve open house. Cheese soup and Yule Log were the biggest hits made by my hands, Ron made the Gascony beef stew which I usually make (but his was awesome, baked in the cast iron pan in the oven the way it's supposed to be) and Jamie made a fabulous, two-tiered chocolate cake chocolate frosting, decorated with gumdrops, candy canes, and gumdrops. it was beautiful like the front of a magazine. Hopefully someone took pictures and will give me one.

Just like Josh takes lots of pictures of buildings with no people in them, I find myself increasingly traking or collecting pictures of food. Now if I can just keep photographing it and not eating it, I might be able to keep one of my New Year's resolutions.

My less than 15 minutes of fame

I was standing in the mall buying ribbon at 75% off, about eighth back in line, when I saw a guy with a camera. I assumed it was the typical news story about day after Christmas bargain hunters, and it was. I turned my attention back to balancing my armload of beautiful wired ribbon when I was approached by a reporter who asked me questions, and, as I do when I get a little nervous, I kept talking.

The next day, when I was at my mother’s birthday party in the metropolitan Detroit area, I told my family I had been in the paper a that morning.

“Did you kill somebody?” they asked.

“Nope. I bought ribbon.”

“Must have been a slow news day.”

“She was on the front page, too,” my husband said.

“Honey, I thought we had to move to Tennessee for a quiet lifestyle, but it turns out we just have to move to Lansing,” my nephew said to his wife.

Even so, my son and I decided that in my leather coat and dark clothing (and obscured face) I looked like the baddest-ass, ribbon-buying mom in the mall.

I have somewhat of a continuing saga here with the dance pad thing. I sent my husband to get the dance pad, but he came back with a box that included a dance pad AND the game...as far as we could tell. As we looked at all the large and tiny print on the box, including reference to something called XBOX Live, we were flummoxed. Did one have to have that? Was everything in the box that was needed? My husband found the address of the company and said we had to call them. "We're grandparents, for God's sake," he said. We called them; they called us back later and assured us we had everything we needed...XBOX Live offered more options, but the game could be played with the contents in the box. I think companies should start printing requirements in large print, and explaining every option with "You've got to have this" or "You don't have to have this, but it makes the game a lot more fun."

This is just one more event in the holiday preparations that makes me want to scream, "WHY IS EVERYBODY TRYING TO F*** WITH ME?" (Not nice Grandma talk, I know, but really, why are they?) I will explain other events if and when they get resolved.

Weird Words

Do you know that experience you have where you say a word, and it sounds really weird and it keeps repeating in your mind and driving you crazy? I had that experience today with an entire sentence. I asked a clerk in a store, "Do you have the dance pad for Dance Dance Revolution--the one that's compatible with XBox, not PlayStation?"(Of course, I was Christmas shopping.) As I walked away, I was obsessed with the strangeness of it. It reminded me of part of a routine George Carlin did when I was in high school or college--things you will never say, like "Hand me that piano," or "Please saw my legs off." Maybe that was the weirdness of it. Even two months ago, I would not have anticipated the need to ever formulate such a sentence. Maybe now that I have written it down, it will go away.

Introverts

I read this article a few years ago, and just came upon it again. I think it should be required reading for all extroverts. They probably won't sit down and be quiet long enough to read it, though.

http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200303/rauch

Being in the moment vs. I want to be anyplace but where I am

I had this strange sensation on Sunday that I haven't had for the longest time, and I found it very disturbing and unpleasant. I had to do several things that day, and no matter where I was, I wanted to be in the next place. All I really had to do was go to church, pick up a birthday card and a gift, go to a birthday party for my granddaughter(45 minutes away), and go home. At church they were doing a couple of unusual things: installing a new campus pastor and saying goodbye to a Brazilian minister who had been visiting for six weeks (and they had him come up and give a speech.) There was special music, which I usually love, but I just wanted them to hurry up so I could go to the store. The service ran over about a half an hour, which almost never happens. Then, as I was standing in a very long line at the craft store, I discovered the soapmaking kit I was buying was meant for children three years older than Amanda. I ran to another store and bought a card and just stuck some money in it, a thing I hate to do for a child unless there is an accompanying small gift. Then when we got to the birthday pary, after the first hour I wanted to go home so badly I felt like I was jumping out of my skin. (Maybe it was the sugar and caffeine from the cake and coffee.)

A few years ago, I was Christmas shopping,and feeling very anxious that time was running out and I would never finish. I purposely went to this specific KFC store where, at that time, the service was notoriously slow. I went there because the people who went there never seemed to care, and it seemed to calm me down. On this particular day, I was waiting in a not very long, but very slow line. Then the song "Just My Imagination" came on the music system and the two people behind me, who had come in separately, but realized they knew each other, spontaneously started singing along with the song. They laughed and started talking about what a pretty song it was. This is one of my favorite moments in life. It made me feel so good; I can't explain why. It was the moment I knew I might find there, though.

The feeling I had on Sunday was uncomfortable because at this point in my life, I know how important it is to be in the moment. Fortunately, Monday (Halloween) was a day like that. I did a lot of things that I find fun and joyful, and everything I did turned out even better than I thought it would. Everywhere I went, I was in the moment.

No pressure: teaching English and making music

I now have two excellent things on Monday. I teach a small group of Korean women who belong to a church that is "nesting" at mine until they can have their own place. A little over a year ago, when their pastor was introduced to our church, he mentioned that he'd like someone to help the housewives with English. I introduced myself to him, and sent a follow-up e-mail saying I'd like to do it, but never heard anything back. Then, a few weeks ago, I got an e-mail from him saying he had been going through some old e-mails and found my message. Now I go there two mornings a week, and the housewives are very cultured, very educated ladies and I sometimes feel bad that all I have to offer them are some pronunciation exercises and conversation topics. I really enjoy talking to them.

Meanwhile, I had started taking piano lessons in an adult class at a local music store on Monday afternoons. I felt bad that I had no piano to practice on at home, but it hit me the day before I started doing the English class: I go to a giant old church that must have about a zillion pianos in it. I asked the man in charge of facility use if I could use one, explaining that I was a total beginner. He said that I could use the one in the chapel, which is a lovely, relatively quiet and uplifting place to practice. There is one intimidating factor, though: The chapel is right next to the Korean pastor's office, where his wife assists him. She was a piano major in college and teaches piano, their daughter is a graduate student in piano at MSU, and their son sings for the Metropolitan Opera in New York, and they have to listen to some idiot pound out "The Star-Spangled Banner" every Monday and Wednesday at noon. (I just started using the C, F, and G chords this week, and I know they wait with bated breath while I wait for an eternity between each note trying to find the chords.)

Actually, they came in once to talk to me (the wife is in my class) and they were actually very sweet to me. (However, I suspect the lunch at the Korean restaurant my group treated me to last week was to get me away from the piano.;))

The best thing about the English class and the piano class is NO PRESSURE. I have to plan, but I don't have to give tests or grades. If we get a really good conversation going on one topic, I don't have to shift gears so I can complete a curriculum. It's just ladies talking...in English. (...except when there is animated conversation in Korean explaining what I am talking about.) Then I get to go practice the piano and go to my lesson.

The cool thing about my lesson is also NO PRESSURE. The teacher's two favorite phrases are "Whatever you want" and "Just have fun." There is a philosophy about teaching adults being promoted that they are generally not preparing to be concert pianists; they're just looking to have fun and make music. There is actually a magazine discussing this philosophy, and I really like it. A long time ago, a lot of people sang and danced and played music, but somehow we now think that we're supposed to entrust those very human activities to professionals who will do it for us. I don't know if it applies, but there was this great line from the film
Hustle and Flow: "Every man's got the right to contribute a verse." I feel that way about singing and dancing. I mean, I love to hear and see excellent singing and dancing, but everyone's got to participate in some way at some point.

As I said to my husband, I wouldn't say, "I'm not an athlete, so I'm not going to the gym."

Van Man

One day my son came home from high school and I asked him how his day had been. He said, "We had a van man." I had never seen Chris Farley's character on SNL at that time, so he had to explain that they had had a motivational speaker. Well, yesterday I got to see a "van man": Stephen Covey.(The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. His new book is The 8th Habit: from Effectiveness to Greatness.) The community college where I work sponsored this event, and generously set aside a certain number of free seats for interested employees. It's very expensive to see him (although the people who paid real money got a luncheon, but I doubt that the food was worth what they were charging the general public...or maybe it was by invitation only. According to the local paper, several local businesss leaders were there, but the only one I recognized was the president of our college.)

The presentation, although hot and long, actually contained some interesting, useful, and yes, motivational information. I also bought a book (continuing to assure that Mr. Covey will never have to live in a van down by the river) and had it signed by the author, who said "I see you as a trim-tab." He explained earlier that a trim tab is the small rudder that turns the large rudder on a ship...so he wrote that in my book: Mary--a trim tab! Stephen Covey

What I am really happy about, though, is I have an addition to my esoteric collection of autographed books: Chuck Pahlaniuk (He wrote Fight Club, but I have Diary and another book whose title I forget, but it's true, weird stuff he's encountered which informs his fiction), a collection of articles by Mitch Albom (before he wrote Tuesdays with Morrie and The Five People You Meet in Heaven) because he is such a good writer I actually started reading the sports column in The Detroit Free Press) and Growing Up Brady by Barry Williams (Greg on the Brady Bunch). I used to have a signed book by Mary Daly (GynEcology: The Metaethics of Radical Feminism), a former Catholic theologian turned radical lesbian feminist, but I threw it away during a crazy time. I don't buy them already signed at the bookstore: I must meet the author. Another prize possession is my photo with Mitch Albom, except it's on one of my dorkiest-looking days EVER...and that is saying something.

I went home from the Covey presentation all motivated and fired up, then on the radio I heard a soldier in Iraq say, "If I'm breathing, it's a good day." I thought, "Cool! That's my new motto! " and it took me all the way to about 3:00 today, at which time I started questioning the meaning of my life again. Apparently it's amassing an eclectic collection of autographed books.

Tattoos

My students recently began working on their first full essay for the Advanced 1 Writing class I teach. They were able to pick from about 10 general topics from our textbook, and one of the most popular topics seems to be tatoos. They had to generate an effective thesis statement, prepare a (somewhat) formal outline, and they began writing their rough drafts yesterday. Among the Asian, African, and Latin American students in the class,we have a few students who find them unacceptable. However, not surprisingly, most of these young people think they're OK. As I went around the room helping people, I told a couple of them about a woman I met last year, who, as a 50th birthday present to herself, got a tattoo on her ankle. It was fairly small, a daisy or a butterfly or something. I don't remember. Anyway, I told a young Costa Rican and a young Japanese man about it, and their mouths dropped in I don't know...horror, disgust? It was, at any rate, a negative look of surprise. I pointed out that a young person who gets a tattoo now will someday be a 50-year-old with a tattoo, and even though they agreed, still seemed to find this bizarre. I'm going to ask the entire class (after they have finished this essay, so they won't be influenced) what the difference is between a 50-year-old woman who gets a tattoo, and a young woman who gets a tattoo now and someday turns 50. Rosalia pointed out she would have her tattoo done in a place that she can hide and that wouldn't be as subject to aging (Hah!Wait until she finds out everything is subject!) but the ankle, I think, meets both those requirements. I am really looking forward to this discussion.

Looking to be target-marketed

I’ve been looking on line for a nice, warm vacation, and I’m feeling, once again, the nebulosity of my age. These things appear to be target-marketed to categories like “family” or “adult” and I’m discerning the “adult” category to be young couples, honeymooners, or senior citizens. What I’d like to go on is a vacation at which I would see a variety of people in a variety of circumstances. I just don’t want to feel out of place.

I’m not averse to doing things with people who are not just like me. Because of the time it takes place, my piano class is primarily retirees. When my husband and I took Bridge lessons a couple years ago, we were the youngest people there. When we went to a party at my friend Teya’s house, we were the oldest people there.

One of my students was at the party, and somehow we started discussing Eminem. I don’t have a huge collection (or any collection) of hip-hop or anything, but I like some of his stuff. He is also from my hometown, (really, in the town next door to my hometown) and being, by nature a “true to my school” kind of person in every aspect of my life, pay some attention to his career. I wasn’t really feeling old, but then Jo said, “Wow. You are the age of my parents and I can’t imagine discussing music with them like this.” Those moments make me feel a little goofy, and I would like to avoid them

Maybe I’m not looking for a variety of people. Maybe I’m looking for a vacation marketed to people just like me…mild-mannered women in their mid-forties with slightly older husbands, grown stepchildren, college-age children, who like disparate music, movies, etc., whose politics are liberal, who have some kind of spiritual faith, but who have a sense of humor (that is occasionally dark and twisted.)

I think I’ve just written a personal ad for a cruise package.

Sleep game 1: Casting the movie of my life.

Having suffered a few bouts of insomnia in my life (a particularly severe one about 1994) I have over the years developed “sleep games,” mental activities to get my mind off whatever I’m obsessing about that’s keeping me awake.


A particular favorite is “Casting the movie of my life.” Of course, a movie of my life would itself be a swift cure for insomnia. I’ve always thought, though, I could be a good casting person, although most people in Hollywood never cast the books I’ve read the way I would.


The problem I’ve had lately is some of the casting involves people who don’t exist. When I began this game in high school, I didn’t have anybody to play me. I found the person a couple of years ago. The problem is, she’s a cartoon character: Peg Hill from King of the Hill. I don’t speak Spanish like Peg does (but if I did, I would probably spaeak it like she does.) However, I am a substitute teacher (and a damn fine one, like Peg, if I do say so myself. We both take it a little too seriously.) We both have similar, um…”fashion sense.” My son agrees that this is a pretty good choice.


And speaking of my son…a non-existent person would also have to play him. I told him that Johnny Depp and that kid from Napoleon Dynamite would somehow have to produce a child. While he initially went along with it, he later said something to the effect of, “Hey!”


My friend/stepdaughter-in law Shari would be played by Meg Ryan, a choice heartily approved by my stepson/her husband Jay, who eagerly agreed to portray himself under those circumstances.


The choice so far for my husband is that guy who plays Toby in West Wing, but that’s just a placeholder for now because most of the people I present that to say “Maybe” but are unenthusiastic. Mostly they just want to know who they are going to be portrayed by. I’m still working on it, though, because most of the people I had previously cast were folks I knew in high school, and my choices now obscure and forgotten TV sitcom actors.

GeoPsychology

Does our geography contribute to the development of our personalities?

One of my current tasks is to research places for us to live after my husband retires, the plan being for me to continue working, only full-time at that point. We recently looked in northwestern Arkansas, which is actually quite pretty. My husband very much wants to have waterfront property, and, having grown up near a rather large lake, I like living by the water too. ( I don’t necessarily need to be on top of it; however, I do want it accessible.) Two more things, though: it has to be in a relatively warm place, and it has to be affordable for us. Arkansas offers these advantages.

The problem for me, though, is these kinds of places tend to be tucked into very hilly, very curvy places. Not only does the driving aspect kind of freak me out, but when I got up into the development we were thinking about, I had this sensation of being stuffed in an envelope. The other places that weren’t developments were very isolated, also a freaky feeling for me.

The problem, I guess, is I’m a quasi-city girl who grew up and has always lived up here in the flatlands. People who come from hilly places tell me they get a strange sensation when they drive and they can see for miles ahead of them. I, on the other hand, find that very comforting. I am like that in other areas of my life, too. If I’m going to have a medical test, first I want to look at and touch all the equipment. If I’m going somewhere, I will try to find out everything I can about that place. Although I like certain kinds of surprises, when it comes to things I’m going to do, I want to see what’s coming.

I don’t know, but I imagine the “hilly” people have a greater sense of joy and discovery not knowing what’s around the next curve (and also greater reaction times to deal with the unexpected deer or pedestrian.)

An elderly lady I know told me about a lady from Kansas that she knew that didn’t like to drive here because all the trees seemed strange to her. She didn’t eeven like the ivy growing on my friend’s house. Hearing this story made me feel slightly less weird, and just how geography shapes our fears, goals, aspirations, and general eccentricities.

My piano lesson

It was so fun! I signed up for an adult beginner piano class, eight people for eight weeks. It's at a music store, and I can tell it's basically designed to sell fancy electronic pianos to people. Most of the students in my class are retired seniors, except a minister and his wife who can't keep a pianist at their church because "they won't follow orders." (I'm the youngest person in the class...like when I took bridge lessons a few years ago. I've found the secret to feeling young!) We played the Star-Spangled Banner with our right hand (fingering comes next week) and we had music, but little red dots showed us where to play. She did actually teach us the keyboard and how to find the notes between the black keys (I know this sounds ridiculous, but I'm a total newbie!) I don't have a piano (I signed my husband up for the waiting list for a possible evening class, and maybe that will rectify that situation. When I was in real estate, they called that the "puppy dog close"...let the person take the puppy dog home for the night, or actually use the item, and you will sell it.) I am very excited to go back next week.

Plans and irritants

Plans for today: Shop for b-day cards and gifts for Joe and Shari. Write vocab quiz for tomorrow. Correct/grade journals and paragraphs for next week. Go to piano lesson (First one ever in my life. Very exciting. Will write about tomorrow.)
Irritants (Language department.) When did everything start happening "ahead of" other things instead of simply "before" them? For example, "They had left new Orleans ahead of the hurricane?"
And where have the articles gone? I hear this sort of stuff frequently on NPR and various news shows: "FDA said…" "According to CIA…." These things are "agencies" or "administrations" ((hence the "A" in the acronym) and are countable and require a frickin’ ARTICLE, people!!! THE FDA, THE CIA…
Finally, why are the adjectives coming after the nouns? The particular phrase annoying me these days is "date certain." As in, "He wouldn’t commit to a date certain," for example, to confirm a nominee or get out of Iraq.
I know. You think it doesn’t matter. It’s simply an evolution of language. No. No. These are violations of the rules correlating with the whole breakdown of the system. I don’t have time right now to find links for the specific examples (see the very important things I must do today at the top of the post.) I do know, however, I have been hearing them for months, because they set my teeth on edge every time I hear them.

Resolutions for the REAL New (school) Year

In a previous post, I talked of this time of year being my "new year," and one of my "resolutions" is to pay more attention to my blog and try to do more things on it. I want to make a list of links to the blogs I read regularly, but haven’t found out how to do that yet. I will say I check Dana’s and Neil’s blogs every day, and also waiterrant.net. I’m going to try to post every day just for the personal discipline aspect, like keeping a daily journal. I don’t know how to make one of those lists on the side yet.
Maybe I will start posting pictures, too, now that we have a scanner that works with our newer computer.
I’ll write about work, books I read and movies I see, and the 25th anniversary party I have planned in August. So far I have booked a venue for it and lined up a decorator (Shari, of course) and a cake maker( Jamie). I also want to do a DVD slide show (or, more likely, have it done for me.)
It’s kind of hard to write about some things on my mind, because it gets into other people’s lives and issues, and that’s somewhat difficult when using this kind of forum. I will also try to relate things more closely to the theme/title of the blog.
I’m going to try to take it up in terms of quality, but in order to motivate myself to do that, I’ll have to concentrate on quantity. A favorite quote of mine, attributed to Woody Allen, is something to the effect that 80% of success in life is based on showing up. Therefore, that’s what I will concentrate on for a while.

Who are these people?

All the hurricane news, in particular, the mismanagement afterwards, is causing me to feel very cynical. I'm sure there will be plenty of blame to go around, locally, statewide, and between both major political parties, but I especially don't get it at the top, federal levels...people find things out exclusively by aides handing them memos?? Can't anybody turn on a television? This is what gets me...the disconnect, the bureaucracy. Who are these people? How do they live? How are they supposed to help people, and assist in situations, about whom and which they have no understanding? The older I get, and the more I see what kinds of things cause people to get elected or appointed to high offices, the more I despair. http://www.nytimes.com/2005/09/10/opinion/10dowd.html?th&emc=t I guess the only thing to do is develop our self-reliance, because the people who are supposed to help us won't be there for us when they're supposed to be. An eighteen-year-old kid, Jabbor Gibson, seems to get this.
http://www.newschannel5.tv/2005/9/1/4255/Taking-refuge-in-the-Astrodome

Back to "normal"

Whoa, I went through the entire month of August without posting. I'm sure that was profoundly disappointing to my reader (if she's even reading this anymore). Life has returned to some semblance of normal (although not really ideal) after a rather strange summer (see previous post). As a teacher and perennial student (not in an advanced degree kind of way, but a let's see how many licenses and certificates I can get in my lifetime kind of way) I have always regarded the beginning of the school year in later August/ September the real beginning of the year, full of promise, opportunity, clean slates, and renewed energy. These, then, are the things I'll be working on: planning, creating, and organizing stuff for my 25th wedding anniversary party in August; going through all my stuff for disposal, garage sale or donation; and organizing my work life. I will override my shyness and introversion and meet more people and develop new friendships. I'll also try to post, at least occasionally, about more important things than what is (or is not) happening in my life.