The Little Things

This is no big revelation. But today, I'm reminded that it's the little things each day that bring me satisfaction. It's not money or professional success; it's companionship and good books and a cup of tea. Today, I received from adagio.com, my favorite tea vendor, their special Valentine tea, a tea that D.C. introducted to me. And it's this great chocolate-dipped-strawberry-with-a-hit-of-rose flavor, and it's just perfect. And my mom called as she was brewing herself a pot of Adagio's cream tea, and D.C. IMd me while sipping her own cup of cream tea. And maybe I can believe that in spite of all the pain and grief and loss, maybe the world can still be OK because we're all sipping Adagio tea, even though nearly everyone I love is in California, while I'm stuck in the Great White North. Maybe because these connections, these shared experiences--tea and Lot 49 and prayer and love and loss and the BBC and bad "reality" TV--because they exist, maybe meaningful relationships are still possible. So I'm headed back upstairs for one more cup of tea and maybe some Top Chef or The Real Housewives of Orange County before bed. It is the little things: tea and movies and books and friends and family and dogs.

Procrastination

I'm really, really good at finding creative ways to procrastinate. I'm not so much a procrastinator by nature. However, when I want to, I can think up all kinds of things I "have" to do in order to avoid, say, typing up a syllabus. For example, I spend nearly an hour this morning dowloading Gwen Stephani ring tones onto my new cell phone. BTW, about a month ago, I got a new RAZR phone in metallic pink; eat your hear out Cheri! So now when you call, the phone plays "If I Were a Rich Girl," except for when A. calls and then it's "Wind It Up." This is very funny, if somewhat adolescent. Gwen Stefani kicks ass, by the way. After finding cool, hip ringtones, I spent quite a lot of time reorganizing my files. I'm still working on it. Come to think of it, I'm really big on reorganizing things that I've already organized like five times. Maybe it's an anxiety thing. I mean, sometimes I find myself unable to sleep until I reorganize my socks or my sweaters or whatever. In a minute I'll procrastinate further by picking up all the random books lying around my office. For some reason, I'm a great one for having piles and piles of books (all organized piles) lying about. And it must look like a mess to everyone else, but it all somehow makes this organic, whole sort of sense to me. I don't pretend to be able to explain it, but it all works for me. And yet, my Intro to Lit syllabus still isn't getting done. I've read in some self help book that we procrastinate out of fear. I wonder what it is about writing up a syllabus that I'm fearing. Maybe my fear is that the class is WAY overenrolled. This cannot be a good thing. Ahh. . . well, back to creative procrastination.

Hello Blogosphere

I know, I know. It's been a month since I last posted. And have you been wondering where I've been? I rather hope someone's wondering what's happened to me, because that would show that my existence somehow matters. I suppose I could say that, really, I've been up to a whole lot of nothing. I mean, I've been doing this and that, but none of it is especially interesting to tell about. I think that I'll hit some of the random highlights (or lowlights) as they occur to me. Blah, blah, blah. I don't have all that much to say; only I do want to start posting again regularly.

Ok, so I was in CA for 10 days over the holidays. I had a wonderful time with my family. My neices E. and L. and perfect and beautiful and wonderful. If I ever have children, I hope they are just like E. and L. I also spent time with my two bestest, favorite friends, Cort and Carina, in CA. And, I don't know, on reflection, being with both of them seems somehow emotionally nourishing. It seems that's how friends should be. In talking with both of them recently, I've come to realize that many of us are facing similar difficulties. I tend to think that anxiety and perfectionism and depression are this whole epidemic, package deal among intelligent, motivated women of my generation. I'm convinced that it is, in part, the fallout of feminism. And while it makes me sad to know that people I love hurt sometimes, it's also somehow reassuring to know that I'm not the only one. So here's to sisterhood and girl power and all that.

I've been consuming Iris Murdoch novels with great zest. How is it that I've never read Murdoch until now. Her writing is wonderful--modern and thought provoking and engrossing all at the same time. So here I am, facing British modernism yet again. It's like this refrain that I almost accidentally keep returning to. On that note, I continue to believe that V Woolf will somehow see me through.

I'll spare all of you the details, but my other bit of big "news" is that I'm dating A. and am suddenly happier than I've been in a long while. It's been like this big epiphany, like I suddenly what's been wrong with every other (failed) relationship I've had. It's like this whole gestalt kind of thing. There are 10,000 things that I appreciate about him. I could gush and gush about the whole thing, but I know that no one really wants to hear all that.

I'll keep posting. Look forward to more on Iris Murdoch. But for now, I really, really need to get my office organized before it gets too out of hand!