Follow Up to Last Week's Post on Palin

Last week, although it somehow feels like it was an age ago, I know I posted a longish "thingy" about Palin.  And I continued to think about the topic and how I was feeling about it, and some of you had interesting things to say in response.  And so, it seems that a further exploration of the general topic seems to be in order.

So C. pointed out, and I think that she's right, that there's this weird, uncomfortable, and ultimately mislead double standard.  It's like some people think Hilary C. is not to be admired because she's been ambitious and has been open about it.  In contrast, Palin is presented as this "Hockey Mom" who has really been a stay-at-home mother at heart but has somehow fallen into this whole vice presidency thing (I almost said "farce"), and that we're supposed to find Palin inspiring and acceptable because she's been committed to her family before her career, because she hasn't shown the ambition that Hilary has.  And, really why is it acceptable, at least according to some segments in society, for the Hockey Mom to run for office and somehow offensive when the ambitious mom does?  Don't get me wrong--I don't see it this way.  And I don't want to suggest that I think Hilary has been anything other than a good mother--I certainly don't know anything about her as a mother other than to say that Chelsea seems to have turned out well.  But what really gets to me is this:  Palin must have been and must be ambitious and hard working.  OK, so I don't think she's particularly qualified for second in command, but she has been a mayor and even a governor, albeit for a short amount of time.  But one doesn't get to be a governor, even of Alaska, without hard work and ambition.  She's been personally ambitious; she's worked to advance her career.  I think this is fine.  But it bothers me when some want to act like she's admirable because she's been somehow non-ambitious, somehow antithetical to Hilary in this regard.

Secondly, as I am prone to do, I turned my analysis of Palin really into an analysis of women's position in society and an analysis of myself and my own position in a variety of social structures.  Hey, we all know the personal IS the political, right?  Or is it the political that's personal?  I forget which it is.  But I went on and on about not having children, not having a "partner."  And I do love that we can use the term "partner."  Anyhow, when I said that I feel somehow "broken" because I don't have a partner, I really meant that I feel like there must be something wrong with me or I wouldn't be alone.  I mean, I know this is not rational, but too often it simply feels like no one wants me.  And the reasoning goes like this:  "No one wants me.  This must mean that I am undesirable.  There must be something wrong with me, or someone would want me.  I must be broken beyond repair."  Again, I am saying clearly, this sort of thinking is not realistic or reasonable.  But still, it feels like no one wants me, therefore I must be un-want-able.  And to be fair, I think I've had more than my fair share of dramatic (shall we say melodramatic?), extreme, heart-breaking rejections from men I've really, truly loved.  I seriously think I may have PTSD from the whole Stamp thing.  But it always feels like if I'd been somehow better, maybe he would have wanted me, maybe he'd want me now.  I think that most people would have some insecurities in the wake of some of this, right?  (So I'm sparing you all a long, melodramatic narrative of how it went down with Stamp; I'm assuming that if you know me well at all, you know the situation.  And the truth is (I hate admiting this) that all this time later, I sill miss him and think about him and wish that things could have somehow been different.  Please don't e-mail me to say that's silly.  I know it's silly, but it's just part of it.)  Anyhow, that's really only tangentially (or maybe not at all) related to the Palin question.  But the topic is, clearly, bringing up all kinds of difficult "stuff" for me.

P.S.  In future posts, I'll try to cut down on the parentheticals.  Bad writing style!

Ursula Le Guin: Gifts

I just finished the YA novel, Gifts, by Ursula Le Guin, and it was one of the most lovely novels I've read in quite some time.  I haven't read tons of Le Guin, but there's something beautiful and fitting and perfect about her clear, succint, almost sparse style.  And Le Guin is particularly insightful and sensitive in the way that she deals with the whole coming-of-age motif.  This particular novel would, I suppose, be classified as fantasy.  It's the story of an adolescent boy living in some sort of alternate universe in which individuals have "gifts," or what we might call supernatural powers.  These gifts are hereditary, and the main character, Orrec, has the gift of "undoing" or destruction.  As he matures, Orrec must learn to use this gift, lest it control him.  But, of course, his coming to terms with his gift is his coming-of-age, his growing into an adult, and this growing is painful and frustrating and fill of loss, but how could it be anything else?  As I sit here typing, it occurs to me that the genre of fantasy seems to be especially suited to the coming-of-age story.  And maybe that's simply because fantasy is almost always about the main character's quest, and the quest is, I suppose, really just a metaphor for growing up and finding our place in this world.  I am, I have to admit, particularly fond of the YA novel, and this is one of the very best I've read in quite some time.

Nifty Netflix Feature

I think that Netflix is just about the greatest thing since ever!  And if you click here, you can become my Netflix friend (or fiend!).  See what I've been watching, make recommendations.  The fun never ends!

Edited (and Less Crazy) Pic of My Fenny-Love

K. was kind enough to edit the pic of Fenway that I posted yesterday.  Here's Fenway looking much more dignified.  Some might say that I'm biased, but I really do think he's just the handsome-est little thing in the world.  Here's a "joke" that A. made up:  What's the difference between Fenway and Sarah Palin?  The lipstick! 

Stop the Insanity! Or What I Really Think About Sarah Palin, Or Why I'm Not a Very Good Feminist

I don't know where to start.  Like many of us, I have had Sarah Palin on the brain for the last ten days ago.  And I've officially decided, much to the consternation of some, I know, that I'm not going to vote in Novemeber.  I've also officially decided to not engage in conversations and certainly not snide comments about the candidates, the parties, or the process.   One reason I've decided not to vote is that, really, with the electoral college working as it does, I sorta feel like my vote doesn't count.  I mean, Vermont is certainly going to the Democrats, regardless of how I do or don't vote.  I don't think that's cynical of me; I think it's realistic.

But here's what I really think about Sarah Palin.  (Ok, I know that I just decided not to engage in conversations about the candidates, but I consider my personal rant far from a conversation).  Regardless of ideology and politics and all that stuff, which I do consider to be really important, I don't think that Palin is qualified.  I don't think that she has the requisite experience that I'd like to see in someone who could potentially be the leader of the free world.  Just for the record, I think the same about Obama.  I do realize that for both of them, part of the attraction is the perception that they are not entrenched in the establishment.  I guess that I understand that as a kind of selling point, but in Palin's case, I'm not buying.

I do feel that, at least for me, one positive that's come about as a direct resuly of Palin's being chosen as McCain's running mate is that many of us are revisiting some pretty big questions about women with careers and especially working mothers.  This topic is one that I find myself coming back to over and over.  I know that I've said before that I always feel like I've somehow been betrayed by feminism, as a movement (yes, I know that I'm talking about white, privileged feminism here).  I feel like feminism (or maybe 2nd wave feminism) has told us that in order to be happy and successful we need to have rewarding careers and fabulous marriages while we are super moms too.  I, for one, don't think that I have it in me to do all three of these at once.  In fact, at 33, I have accepted that I'll probably never have a child.  And I'm totally OK with not having children.  In fact, I don't see how I could work the way that I want to and still have it in me to be a good mother.  I know that many women do it and that many of them do it gracefully.  I am not one of those women, and I'm sure it has more to do with my own emotional weaknesses than anything else.  For a long while, I felt like I was supposed to at least want children, like there was something defective about me if I didn't.  Now I realize that, at least for me, it's a choice:  career OR children.  Or maybe I could, in theory, have both, but I can't imagine doing a very good job of either.  And over the last week, Mika Brzezinski, who I really like as far as newsy personalities go, has been talking about this topic in her own way.  And I appreciate what she has to say about Palin and being a working mother.  And Mika (don't you love how suddenly I'm all palsy with her?) says that for herself working the way she does is a choice and that it does take time and energy away from her children.  I know she doesn't buy into Palin's politics, but Brzezinski says she can identify with the sacrifices that working mothers make.  But the thing is that Brzezinski and Palin and even I have a choice.  Many women, especially single mothers, don't have a choice.  And really, aren't the mothers working 50 and 60 hours a week at blue collar jobs to house and feed their children, aren't they the real heroes?  And aren't they the ones we should be concerned about?  I mean, all these pundits going on and on about Palin and if she gets the big job, who will take care of her children.  Palin has a choice to make--talk about ProChoice--too many mothers, especially single mothers, don't have the luxury of choice.  And we don't talk about this often enough, it seems to me.  (Ok, here's where I get all "meta:"  I realize this paragraph lacks a single focus.  And I'm OK with that--I'm just sorto of thinking out loud on paper, or on screen.  Well, you know what I mean.)

And I haven't even begun to address how marriage and relationships might fit into the mix.  I believe that, in general, being a single parent is much more demanding and much more difficult than having a partner with whom to raise children.  At 33, I have begun to accept that I may never, never get married and have that kind of partnership in my life.  This, for me, is much more difficult to accept than the prospect of not having children.  But it's a possibility (a probability????) that I think I need to face.  And I have to say that not being married, or more specifically feeling like I have more than my share of spectacularly failed relationships in my past makes me feel like a failure.  I can be OK with never being a mother, but the idea of never having a fulfilling, intimate relationship makes me feel so broken somehow.  And I do feel a lot of societal pressure--it's like there must be something wrong with me if I can't do something so normal as sustain a relationship.  I know that my perceptions and reality aren't the same thing here; this is just how I feel much of the time.

I guess that what I'm trying to say is this:  thinking about Palin has, for me, brought up questions about how I, as a woman and as a feminist and as a product of a particular historical and cultural moment and as a product of a particular set of religious beliefs, define success.  Too often, I find that the definitions of a successful woman offered by the various societal groups with which I identify are definitions of success that just don't work for me.  And I'm not sure where that leaves me.  Right now, it leaves me with a job that I enjoy and that I really believe in.  But sometimes, I feel like that's about all I'm left with, and I don't know what to think or feel about that.

Oh, and one more thing:  I cannot make myself believe that reproductive rights are the central issue for women in the way that some others seem to think they are.  Maybe I'll post more on this later, or maybe I'll continue to avoid the issue.

Pics of my yard

These pics are the flower beds in my front yard, as seen from my window.  I'm not sure that they really at all show what things are looking like, as we near the end of what's been a very wet summer.  But my yard is truly a source of joy.

Here's a new pic of Fenny.  I like this one because it looks like he's smiling.  Also, he looks kinda maniacial, which he kinda is.  If I were better with Photoshop, I could make his eyes look normal, black, not all reflect-y.  But maybe the glowing eyes add to the maniacial feel of the pic.  Doesn't he look like he wants to say something?  I think he wants to say, "I love my mama more than anyone!"

A Reading Update

As you can tell, I'm sure, from recent posts, I've been reading tons and tons o' murder mysteries lately. And something about it is very satisfying. I like feeling like I'm reading with a purpose, and I like feeling like my reading is centered on something--some theme, some goal. Over the last week, I've finished the first Sherlock Holmes novella A Study in Scarlet and P.D. James's A Mind for Murder. Oh, I've also read Edgar Allen Poe's three tales of "ratiocination:" "Murders in the Rue Morgue," "The Mystery of Marie Roget," and "The Purloined Letter." And I'm feeling in this state of synthesis where I'm living and breathing and thinking mystery, you know? When I get really into a writer or a genre or a class or whatever, I find myself going about my life, almost constantly mulling it all over in my mind. And I rather like that feeling--it seems to give me a sense of purpose. So two of the Poe stories I could do without, but "The Purloined Letter" is pretty smart. And in A Study in Scarlet, Watson and Holmes refer to Poe's Dupin. And, I don't know, it feels cool and smart and interesting to be tracing the development of something. And intertextual references always excite me anyway. So all this to say, I guess, that I'm just having a lot of fun with work, and that really seems like how it should be.

"We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live"

In "The White Album," Joan Didion opens by exploring why it is that we write.  And as I'm preparing for tomorrow's Freshman Comp class, I'm reminded of what Didion has to say:

We tell ourselves stories in order to live.  The princess is caged in the consulate.  The man with the candy will lead the children into the sea.  The naked woman on the ledge outside the window on the sixteenth floor is a victim of accidie, or the naked woman is an exhibitionist, and it would be “interesting” to know which.  We tell ourselves that it makes some difference whether the naked woman is about to commit a mortal sin or is about to register a political protest or is about to be, the Artistophanic view, snatched back to the human condition by the fireman in priest’s clothing just visible in the window behind her, the one smiling at the telephoto lens.  We look for the sermon in the suicide, for the social or moral lesson in the murder of five.  We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices.  We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the “ideas” with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience.

Didion's is one of my favourite passages about writing, about why we write.  Maybe we don't write to live in a literal sense, and yet we write in the attempt to find meaning in a world that is meaningless.  Last night, I was watching Slings and Arrows a "dramedy" about a troup of Shakespearing actors who, in season 2, present MacBeth.  Some of them see a production of MacBeth at a local elementary school.  And as his wife goes mad, MacBeth thinks something like "I don't understand life.  It just goes on and on."  And as Didion points out, the attempt to find a narrative thread in our existence is the attempt to follow the thread or clue that could lead to some sort of meaning, we are searching for what MacBeth feels he's missing.  And "story" is a way to do so.  I always think this is so powerful and says so much not just about why we write but why we read and why the study of literature is important.  This seemed to be worth sharing.

Dorothy L. Sayers: Clouds of Witness

Last night, I finished the second Lord Peter Wimsey book, Clouds of Witness, and I very much enjoyed it.  Sayers is really quite a good writer, and although Lord Peter can get a little annoying at times, I basically like him as a character.  But here's what's interesting to me, at least at the moment:  Lord Peter is written as a modern, secular kind of guy, but Parker, the police inspector guy that Lord Peter runs around with, is all Christiany and traditional.  Inspector Parker reads commentaries on the New Testament as his bed time reading.  Now none of this is particularly interesting in and of itself, necessarily.  But here's the interesting piece:  Sayers herself was very vocal and "out" about her own Christianity.  She was certainly a scholar and an academic and a writer, and she made it clear that her beliefs and her faith motivated her work and informed her understanding of the world.  So, here's the thing:  in many ways, the middle-class, conservative, seemingly-Christian Parker would seem to be more like Sayers herself than is Lord Peter.  And I don't know what to make of this.  And I understand Peter's social class; after all, who doesn't want to read about a quirky member of the Peerage?  But why make Peter so markedly secular, especially in light of Parker's presence in the books.  I don't know where I'm going with the whole thing, but it seems somehow unexpected.

And So It Begins. . .

I've made it through the first two days of the semester.  And my sanity seems to be entirely intact.  I don't, however, expect this unaccustomed feeling of sanity to last much longer, as my allergies have been increasingly worse over the past week or so.  I'm good for the first eight hours or so after I wake up.  But then, suddenly my eyes are irritated, and all I really want to do is sleep, or maybe intermittently read and sleep.  Or maybe just zone out in front of the TV for a while.  But that's really not what I'd planned to say in this post.  What I really wanted to say is that I'm somehow both relieved and satisfied to be back to work.  It feels healthy and like working and teaching and reading and writing is what I somehow need to be doing.  But just now, I feel so completely exhausted that I think I could collapse.  I don't particularly enjoy the first day of class; I always end up going over my over-long, overly-detailed syllabus, and it's just not all that interesting, especially when I find myself doing it for the third or fourth time in two days.  Nonetheless, I do consider it important and worthwhile, but still boring as anything.  But I'm teaching such fun, fun stuff, and for the first time in a long time, my workload feels manageable.  For these things I am thankful.

Dorothy L. Sayers: Whose Body?

I'm just finishing Sayers's Whose Body? And yes, it really does have the question mark in the title, as you can see above.  Isn't this a really great, retro cover?  I have really enjoyed this book for a number of reasons.  I read one or two of Sayers's Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries some years ago, and I have seen two different actors portray Lord Peter, courtesy of the BBC.  But now, I've started at the beginning with Whose Body? and hope to read as much as I can of the series (in order, of course) over the next couple of weeks.  OK, so this book is set in England in the early 20s, I think--it was published in 1923.  And one thing that we discover about Lord Peter (a younger son, without land or a title) is that he suffers shell-shock.  I'm interested in how the World Wars affect English culture, and especially English cultural identity.  And--I don't know--I'm always interested in England between the wars, particularly.  But one really cool think about this novel is the ways in which the narrator keeps reminding us that it is, in fact, a novel, a work of fiction.  Over and over, Lord Peter makes remarks like, "well, if this were a Sherlock Holmes story, instead of real life. . . "  But of course, it's not real life and is much more akin to a Sherlock Holmes story.  Towards the end, the narrator tells us that Lord Peter, as an detective, albeit an amature one, has been affected by Holmes and other literary detectives.  And of course, Peter is, in a way, the literary offspring of Holmes.  Lord Peter himself is quite bookish and quotes poetry and that kind of thing a lot, which makes it all double fun!  I'm sure that Sayers's The Mind of the Maker would be instructive here, would allow one to make connections between literary creation and the real world, but I don't remember much about it all.  I'm sooooo enjoying Sayers, anyway.  She's a remarkable person; she was a scholar who, among other things, translated Dante's Divine Comedy, into verse, I think. (Lord Peter, by the way, purchases some rare edition of Dante and reads Dante in the novel.) And she's a really good writer--better, I'd say, than Agatha Christie, who writes during the same period and seems to be much more popular, at least now.  Anyway, I realize that this isn't so like super insightful  or super academic or anything.  But I'm just really enjoying this novel and am especially intrigued by the intertextual references and how they suggest we might read / interpret the work.  Oh, plus, the book opens with a man's finding a naked corpse, wearing only glasses, in his bathtub.  And it takes quite a while to decide whose body it is, hence Whose Body?  And really, that all by itself is great!

I just went upstairs to photocopy syllabi, but the photocopier jammed, which isn't unusual, and I'm waiting for the staff to fix it.  This means that I have a bit of free time.  I've realized last night and this morning that I'm super excited for the semester to start in some ways.  I'm teaching a course that I'm calling British Detective Fiction, and it's just feeling super fab and fun and interesting.  And maybe this is why I have the job I do, because where else would I be getting paid to reading and talk about Sherlock Holmes and Inspector Morse and Albert Campion and Inspector Dalgliesh and all the rest?  Really, what could be better than that?  And I'm looking forward to all the little things, like rereading The Hound of the Baskervilles and, even better, watching all the adaptations I can get ahold of.  The one with Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee is the absolute worst / best.  It could qualify for MST3K, and if you are really interested, Netflix has a great trailer for it here, which gives a good sense of the tone and production quality of the whole thing.  And it just seems like there's so much to read and talk about and look forward to.  As I've been reading and thinking about this course, it's come to my attention that all these people I know, especially my colleagues, are sort of in the closet about reading murder mysteries, and it feels great to feel like there's actually this whole community of us indulging in this reading and that, I don't know, we don't have to keep being in the closet about it.  And I keep thinking about  mysteries and detectives and popular culture and official culture and medievalism.  And I keep watching more and more of the Midsommer Murders, which are grand, and plan to start at the beginning and watch all of the BBC's Inspector Morse, who is probably my favorite.  And it's nice--finally!--to feel interested in something again.

Ok, so I haven't posted much lately--here's a quickie update.  I'm feeling less depressed / anxious, which is good.  I've been busy with prepping for the new semester--classes start Monday.  I always kinda enjoy getting all organized and putting together syllabi and planning out my semester, but it's always a little maddening too.  For example, yesterday, I discovered that three novels I'd planned to teach this fall are out of print.  That really hadn't occurred to me as a possibililty (silly me!) and wasn't an eventuality that I'd considered.  And it was just somehow so frustrating.  I mean, it seems especially ridiculous (or something) that in a series of detective novels, all but one would be available, especially when it's the one that everyone seems to think the best.  And yes, they can be purchased used online for really very reasonable prices.  But that sort of isn't the point.  I guess it was an unexpected bump in the road, or whatever.  And I've been working a lot--mental work, not physical labour--and I've been tired but not able to get to sleep.  And the whole insomnia thingy is always maddening in its own way.  And then, I've been really craving a good cheese burger, which is unlike me, mostly because I don't normally eat dead cow.  So I guess I just don't really know what's going on with me other than to say that I've been working a lot and I'm tired but I'm somehow satisfied.

I don't know where to begin.  I've been back from CA for nine days now, and with each passing day, I've become increasingly blah feeling.  With the exception of yesterday, it's rained every day since I've been back.  And maybe that's part of my current listlessness.  About four days ago, I had several nights of wicked bad insomnia, and that affects my mood too.  And maybe it's just that I'm ready to go back to work; after all, it's been about three months since I've really worked.  The only other summer I've not taught was the summer I was working, nearly feverishly, to finish my dissertation.  And that counts as work, doesn't it?  I had grand plans, at one point, to get lots and lots of studying and prep and writing done over the summer, but somehow that didn't happen.  Until I left for CA, I did get lots of crafting and yoga and fun reading done, and it seems like that's really, really what I needed to do with my summer.  (And wow, when's the last time I wrote a "what I did with my summer vacation" essay?)  But now, on the other end of things, I feel icky, that whole I-haven't-accomplished-anything feeling, coupled with creeping anxiety, the paralyzing kind.  And apparently Netflix is having technical difficulties, so I don't have anything good to watch.  *sigh*  I'm just feeling kinda lonely and lost and purposeless.  Not good.  But starting next week, I'll just have to get a lot of work done, in anticipation of the new semester, and really, maybe that's good for me.  I'm looking forward to it.

Oi.  So I haven't posted in ages, and there are lots of good reasons for my silence.  But they really aren't that interesting, I suppose.  I was in California for nearly 2 weeks.  It was a good, if somewhat exhausting, trip.  But I think I'm glad to be home.  My semester starts in less than two weeks, and I'm feeling pretty anxious about it.  I don't know why I'm feeling anxious, but it's a really unpleasant (at best) kind of feeling.  And so it goes.  I'm at work today, attempting to pencil out syllabi and plan for the semester; classes require more advance planning than most people suspect.  It feels good to be getting organized and sorted and all that.  It seems that I only have really banal kinds of things to say.  Oh well.

T13: Things For Which I Feel Thankful Every Day

I've probably said this before, but I'm convinced that at least part of the key to contentment is truly appreciating the small, everyday kinds of things in our lives.  And lately, I've been very much aware of the things and happenings and people for which I feel truly thankful each day.  And so I offer this list, hoping that I can make it to thirteen.  Some are obvious, some mundane, but always counting our blessings seems like a healthy practics.

1.  Dishes.  Some of you know that I own more than one set of dishes.  And I enjoy them all.  I love having what I consider just the right bowl or plate for each occasion and each meal.  And I want different bowls for oatmeal and soup and ice cream and salad, and I enjoy them all.  The same with tea cups and mugs and tea pots.

2.  Dogs.  Quite literally, every day I am so thankful that each one of my dogs is a part of my life.  Each is different, and I have a different relationship with each.  But each provides so much love.  And my life is absolutely richer because of Guinnie, Polly, and Fenway.

3.  Books.  I read at least something each day.  And my life, again, is more full and rich and meaningful because of books and books and more books.

4.  My yard.  One thing I love about this time of year in Vermont is that every day there's something new and different to see in my yard.  Taking the dogs out each day is like a treasure hunt.

5.  Soup.  I really love soup.  There are so many variations, and regardless of the time of year, I find it to be such a satisfying meal.  Plus, it's a really good excuse for bread and butter!

6.  Creativity.  I like the sense of living creatively.  I like feeling like the mundane things I do, I can do creatively.  I mean, when I cook or get dressed or whatever, I'm always looking for opportunities to do these things creatively.

7.  Textiles and Fibers:  I've been sewing and crafting lately, and it's just so wonderful.  And although small things, I feel so blessed by fabric and paper and yarn and ribbon and all kinds of materials.  Just a small spool of grosgrain ribbon, purchased for less than a dollar, can afford so much sheer joy.  A skein of yarn can produce absolute bliss.

8.  Scented candles.  Again, candles aren't so important in the grand scheme of things, and yet the enjoyment they bring far outweighs their monetary value.

9.  Clean sheets.  I love the feeling of freshly laundered sheets.  There's nothing quite so perfect as getting into bed when the sheets are just right.

10.  Tea.  My doctor has suggested that maybe I should cut back on my tea consumption.  And in theory, I suppose it's not a bad idea.  But in practice, I just am not ready to cut back.  Tea, again, provides a satisfaction that is difficult to describe.

11.  A perfect turkey sandwich.  Lately, I'm in love with this sandwich that they sell at the deli of my local grocery store.  It's turkey with cranberry sauce and stuffing on a cibatta roll. And it is just delightful.

12.  Yoga practice.  Yoga practice provides a state of relaxation and well being that I've seldom found elsewhere.   Again, it's something that's difficult to describe yet, like tea, something I just don't want to live without.

13.  Friends.  Daily, I feel deeply, deeply thankful for my friends.

So maybe this list is sappy and predictable.  I mean, who doesn't care about friends?  It's just that at this single, precise moment, all these seem really important, and I feel so much deep gratitude for all thirteen.

A Perfect Meal

There's something exciting and wonderful and so satisfying about having an ideal meal, you know?  It's like sometimes the culinary planets are in perfect alignment, and the meal is just right for the situation.  And that makes me so totally happy.  I just had a late supper of a small bowl of lobster bisque and a glass of Riesling.  And it somehow seemed just right (call me Goldilocks) for this steamy summer evening.  And the soup wasn't homemade, just something I picked up from the grocery store take-out section.  And it doesn't seem like a cream soup would be so perfect for my sticky, hot state.  And yet, it all seemed just right.  It's getting close to 9:00.  I plan to get in bed early, finish my wine, and watch Bravo while reading Jasper Fforde until I'm ready to sleep.  It almost feels like all is right with the world.

I Heart CA

Lately, all I can think about is that I wish I were in California.  And I'll be visiting in a week, but that's not what I mean.  I want to be living someplace that feels like home, not like some different culture where I'll never quite find my place, because that's how New England feels to me.  It's been hot the past few days, but not that dry, desert heat that I associate with home.  It's been warm but wet and rainy and it feels like there's nowhere fun to go, nothing fun to do.  I take that back:  there's lots fun to do right at home, but nowhere to go.  I want to be where there are real malls and Targets and Gaps.  Is that just superficial?  Oh, let's not forget Trader Joe's and Mexican food.  Really, is that asking too much?  I''m tired, at least for now, of this sodden but oh-so-green summer.  I want the desert.  And I want to be with friends.  And I want to feel like I'm a part of something larger than myself.

A Crafting Update

I've almost finished this dress--I still need to hem it.  And although it's kinda boring in the picture, it's cute on.  It's Simplicity 2846.   It's made of a fairly light weight cambric.  And my idea is that I can wear it now as a summery dress and later with a turtleneck and tights as a jumper.  But what's really exciting is that I've been researching how to alter patterns for a fuller bust--apparently it's called a FBA or a full bust alteration.  And this dress is my first experiment with it; it turned out really well, and I'm quite pleased with the fit.

Also, I've been working on some hand embroidery.  This is a pink creamer motif on a tea towel.  It's from Aunt Martha's Hot Iron Transfers 3890.  I really love the vintage quality of this piece and plan to do a tea towel with a matching sugar bowl, although that may be a while in coming.



So, with one project and another, I've been a busy stitcher.  And it makes me very happy.  Such fun, and so practical too!

Success (For Real This Time)!

I'm so very pleased to say that my basement is just about in the shape I've always wanted it to be in.  I've spent several hours each of the last three or four days working away.  I'm just so excited--it's been just over two years since I've had "organize basement" on my list of things to do.  There are just a few more changes I think I want to make.  First, I think I want a second table to work at.  Right now, I have a 60x30 inch folding table for crafting, sewing, cutting out fabric, whatever.  But I think that purchasing a second, inexpensive folding table would be wonderful, so that I can have more than one project going at a time and still have space to spread out.  I figure if I position them in an L-shape, I can roll on my office chair from project to project.  Second, I think I want to paint the walls, although I'm not sure what color.  I think it would be super fun to do a wall or part of a wall in chalkboard paint.  I mean, wouldn't that be great to be able to write notes and such on the wall?  I'm also thinking about buying some of that primer filled with iron filings for a part of a wall; it's this great product that makes the surface such that magnets adhere to it.  Again, that seems both fun and practical.  But we'll see--there are other paint projects around the house that I may want to tackle first.  One of my goals in organizing the space was not to purchase anything--shelving, storage bins, whatever--but to only use what I already had on hand.  I'm pleased to say that I met this particular goal.  So things are good--this feels really great.

Success!

Well, maybe "success" is too strong a word.  But I feel like I'm approaching it.  Sometime last week, I know I wrote about how I feel so defeated by my basement.  But today, I'm pleased to say, I did spend some time down there organizing stuff and making it a more comfortable, usable space.  And it feels really good to feel like I'm making some progress.  Don't get me wrong--I still have a long way to go.  And it may never be perfect.  But at least I'm doing something and not just allowing anxiety to get the better of me.  I realize that part of the problem is that I really have more stuff than I have usable storage for.  And I suppose that part of the solution is to stop acquiring stuff that I can't really store and ultimately don't make use of.  I know this is pretty obvious, but I feel like it's something that I need to remind myself of.  (Oh dear, I ended the last three sentences with prepositions--bad, bad, bad!)  Anyhow, I do feel good about simply facing the situation and taking some sort of action.  I plan to reward myself by opening a bottle of my favorite everyday wine, Ravenswood Vintner's Blend Zinfandel.

Ian McEwan's Atonement

So last night, I started reading McEwan's novel Atonement.  When the movie came out (was it 6? 9? months ago), I had zero interest in the film.  This may be because of Kira Knightley's presence, or it may be because there were lots of war scenes in the TV commercials.  Either way, the movie wasn't appealing to me, but the novel sounded interesting.  So I started it last night.  I've read about 60 pages, and it's beautifully written.  And the same events are told from several different perspectives--I like that in a novel.  Something about it reminds me of V. Woolf, although it's not terribly stream-of-consciousy.  But it's interesting and well written.

Frustration

Ok, so I have a fairly large finished basement.  It's a really great space in a number of ways.  When I first moved it, my idea was to use it as a study.  And so I have my desktop computer and lots of books down there.  However, a little over a year ago, I started using one of my upstairs bedrooms as a place to work and read and write and all that.  And my idea was that the entire downstairs, or most of it anyway, could be used as a dedicated crafting space.  And it's a great space for that kind of thing.  And I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have a big table where I can leave out my sewing machine and fabric or paper and stamps or whatever else I'm working on.  This kind of space is, of course, any crafter's dream.  But here's the problem.  My basement is this total disorganized mess.  It's become this messy catch-all storage place.  I have bins of old clothes that I want to get rid of or refashion or just store.  I have stacks of paper and stickers and cards and paper crafting supplies.  I have bins and boxes of fabric and patterns.  I have ink and stamps and markers and dominoes everywhere.  And try as I might, it's like I can never get the space organized.  Part of the problem is that I don't have storage for some of the stuff that would allow it to be accessible.  The other part of the problem is that I simply have too much stuff, and that frustrates me, so I just tend to avoid having to deal with it.  And it's really bad.  Anyone who's seen it in recent months could verify that it's a mess, that there's too much stuff, and that it's probably hazardous, for some day I'm going to trip on something, I just know it.  And it's such a shame because I have this great space that I'm not using.  I'm convinced that if I could get organized and maybe get another table, I'd spend more time creating and that, consequently, I'd be happier.  It's so frustrating, and I don't even know where to begin.  Arrgh!

Ruminating on Feminism and the Third Wave and Marriage

Ok, I know this is a topic that I keep rehashing here, but it's because I keep rehashing it in my head.  I've been really trying to decide what it means for me when I say that I'm a feminist.  And really more to the point, can I be a feminist and really like crafting and glittery eye makeup?  Some might say no.  The third wavers might say yes.  I'm becoming increasingly frustrated over this topic, and I don't know why.  But I'm ready to throw up my hands, quit my job, and get pregnant.  Just kidding.  What I'm discovering more and more is that being single, living alone, not having the kind of support system that might come from a partnership is really difficult.  And I wonder if single men feel this way.  I mean, I certainly don't fool myself into thinking that all my problems would magically go away if I were married, but it does seem like some of my problems would be easier to face, you know?  And what does this mean about me in terms of feminism?  I mean, I think that marriage is a wonderful thing, and there are manifold reasons that marriage, as an institution, has stood the test of time.  But is there something wrong or somehow unfeminist of me to believe that at least some things would be easier if only I had the right kind of man in my life?  It all gets very discouraging in that as I get older it seems like there are fewer and fewer options out there; it's harder and harder to meet men whom might interest me.  Ok, so here's where someone is supposed to jump in and suggest eHarmony.  Ha, ha.  Seriously, something about their TV commercials kinda freaks me out, you know?  I mean, it feels too kinda system-ish or something, like they will assign you a quotient and then match you with compatible quotients, and suddenly we're all just numbers.  Actually, just out of curiosity, about six weeks ago, I went to the eHarmony web site and filled out their questionnaire thingy, just to see what they'd say.  And you want to know what they said?  They said that they couldn't help me--mind you, this was after I'd answered any number of crazy questions.  They couldn't help me.  So now I'm an eHarmony reject.  That's Ok, eHarmony, I didn't need you anyway--I feel like the woman scorned or something.  I keep telling myself that if it's meant to be, I'll meet the right man.  I also keep hearing the voice that says, "You just gotta put yourself out there."  I'm never quite sure what that means.  Is it so different from saying "You're really out there."  This digression, of course, is reminding me of Fox Mulder and "The Truth is Out There," which as a kind of zippy tag line, I find quite useful.  I'm going to stop now, as I've wandered away from the proposed topic. 

Thursday Thirteen: Thirteen Things I Never Leave Home Without. . .errr. . .Without Which I Never Leave Home

Was is Master Card that had the "don't leave home without it" ad campaign?  Well, I've been thinking lately about the ridiculous amount of stuff that I feel like I have to tote around with me.  Some of this seems really superfluous but I tend to have this irrational panic that I'll get somewhere and not have the thing I need.

1.  Lip gloss.  OK, this is totally a necessity.  I usually have more than one color in my purse.  One day, I went to a lecture on campus and found that I'd left my pencil case in my office.  But I had 8 different lip glosses with me.  Priorities.

2.  Pencils and pens in a variety of colors.  In spite of once arriving at a lecture without a writing implement, I normally carry around a couple of pencils and, maybe, eight pens.  I like to be able to color code things.  Plus, you never know when you'll need to write, which leads me to. . .

3.  Several notebooks.  I carry a tote bag that always has at least three notebooks in it, usually five or six.  I love the old school marble covered composition books.  And I have different notebooks for different things.  One's a general journal.  One's my monthly budget (really high tech!).  One's devoted specifically to lists of different sorts.  I know it's kinda OCD of me, but I feel like I need to have at least some of my notebooks with me at all times.

4.  A book.  I often think that the single most useful thing I learned in graduate school is to take a book everywhere one goes.  If I'm stuck in a waiting room or in my office or wherever, I can always read.

5.  My iPod.  This one is self evident, no?

6.  My blue turtle beady buddy.  Maybe about 10 years ago, beady buddies were all the rage with the younger set. My brother made me one, and I promised to carry it with me always.  Hence, it's always in my purse or my school bag.

7.  Cell phone.  Again, self evident.

8.  Library card. 

9.  Hand cream.  Really, when don't you need moisturizer.

10.  A spare pair of socks.  Yes, I always keep those in my tote bag.  Again, you just never know.

11.  A variety of stickers.  I am especially fond of Hello Kitty and company.

12.  The instruction booklet for my pedometer.  I'm not sure why this is in my tote bag or why I never take it out.

13.  My tiny, purse size mirror with the Wife of Bath on the back.  This is a momento  from the Huntington Library where the Ellsmere manuscript is housed.

A New Pic of Mama's Baby Boy

Ok, ok I know that I kinda go overboard with the doggie pics.  But here's a new one of Fenway.  I just think he's such a handsome guy.

Another Altered Tee!

Here's another altered tee project.  The red tee is slashed up, and a tank top is to be worn underneath.  I like how this one turned out.  I don't know if you can really tell from the photo (and yes, it's a crappy photo with all the stuff hanging behind the shirt), but it's got a off the shoulder ala Flashdance kind of look.

Thursday Thirteen, Special Wednesday Edition: Hip, Funky, Indie Crafting Resources

Ok, I've probably already said something like this, but lately all I want to do is practice yoga, meditate, read for a bit and then craft.  I love cutting up paper and adding glitter and tying on some ribbon and whatever else.  It's all I want to do:  I dream about fabrics and colors and textures.  I wake up wanting to cut and mix paint colors and whatever else.  And I've also been trying to come up with a cool name for my crafty alter ego.  Right now, I'm thinking Stitchy Woman sounds good, although not terribly original.  I'd like it if my crafty personality weren't the alter ego but the real me.  Did that make sense?  And I don't really even like the term alter ego, because more and more, it seems to me that so many things, crafting included, are about transcending the ego.  Lest I wax ridiculous, I'm just going to jump into the list of funky, wonderful craft resources.  Some of these I've found on my own; some are courtesy of some of you.

1.  Sublime Stitching.  This site, based in Austin, TX, has the greatest embroidery patterns--lots of gothic, alternative stuff.  I just ordered the Sexy Librarian pattern--isn't it perfect for me?

2.  Craft Stylish.  This web site has tons of stuff for all kinds of crafting.  Again, I love that it's hip and young.  And the site seems user friendly.

3.  Craft Leftovers.  OK, so you know how we buy all this fabric and paper and ribbon and trim and whatever else, but we never actually get around to using it?  Maybe it's because the one who dies with the most fabric wins.  But really, this site, which has all kinds of fun ideas, was originally put together in the interest of using up all that accumulated stuff.  This seems like a good crafting philosophy--do work on using up all the stuff we've bought but never gotten to.

4.  Amy Butler's In Stitches.  I really love Amy Butler's style; she designs the most wonderful textiles.  This book, which contains a number of patterns, is devoted to home dec.  While it's not as alternative as, say, Sublime Stitching, this book has a number of great ideas and beautiful, inspiring photos.  Amy Butler also puts out some beautiful, although costly, patterns.

5.  Sew U.  This book, by Wendy Mullin, includes several basic fashion patterns.  But the great thing is that, in addition to basic sewing instruction, Wendy uses her "Built by Wendy" approach to show how you can create endless variations on a single, basic pattern.  I love this idea--that something basic and plain can become one-of-a-kind.  Simplicity has published a number of "Built by Wendy" patterns that work on the same principle.  Wendy Mullin's web site can be found here.

6. Craft.  This is a wonderful magazine and web site.  Craft tends to include an eclectic mix of projects and articles and such.  Many of the craft projects are more involved and complicated than I'm wanting to be, but it's great.  I find all kinds of stuff that I wouldn't expect to see elsewhere.

7. OK, I'm going to include Lucky magazine and the J Crew catalogue in this list.  Although these publications are clearly not devoted to crafting and creativity, I do find inspiration in them.  When I look through them, I tear out pics of jewelry and clothing that I love; then I think about creative ways to recreate the looks that I like. 

8.  Wardrobe Refashion.  This site is, as the name would suggest, devoted to creative ways of refashioning old clothing.  It's great.  One can take a "pledge" to buy no new clothes and instead refashion clothing one already has or refashioning thrift store finds.  I like the whole not acquiring "stuff" philosophy.  And there are a number of contributors, who are all at-home sewers, to the site.  Lately, I'm enchanted with refashioned and altered fashion.

9.  Generation T: 108 Ways to Transform a T-Shirt.   I've posted about this book recently.  It's superfun and contains a number of easy, no-sew projects as well as more complicated things.  It also encourages reusing and refashioning, which I love.

10.  Rip It!  This is another book devoted to refashioning and altering clothing.  It presents some great ideas.

11.  Threads.  This is a magazine devoted to sewing, mostly clothing.  One thing I like about it is that it explores basic as well as advanced techniques.  Also, it's sometimes linked to patterns, from Simplicity I think, and shows you how to alter and embellish these patterns.

12.  Vickie Howell.  I love this woman.  She has several books out, a great web site, and even programs on the DIY channel, 230, if you have DirecTV.  She's from Austin, I think, and she's super cool.  For example, last week she was on DIY, knitting with Lisa Loeb.  What's cooler than that?  She sews, knits, and generally makes the world a cooler place.

13.  Tim Holtz.  Tom Holtz has a number of interesting products.  Apparently, you can watch him on YouTube, although I've not tried this myself.  His work tends to be less alternative crafty and more classy, but he does beautiful stuff. 


Honorable Mentions:  I absolutely love Adorn and Sew Stylish magazines.  Both, however, have gone the way of all flesh, if you know what I mean:  kicked the bucket, bought the farm, passed on to that big craft studio in the sky.  It's a shame because both were really great. 

One More Reason to Believe in Magic

FIREFLIES

Thursday Thirteen: Thirteen Reasons I Believe in Magic

When I was researching for and writing my dissertation several years ago, I remember reading quite a lot about how in England Medievals and Elizabethians thought about magic differently. Or anyway, some theorized that they did. I'm not sure how hard and fast the distinction is. I do know that Medieval Europeans thought about magic and what constitutes magic (and what constitutes science) differently than most of us might. For example, we might think of the Philosopher's Stone, which supposedly can turn any base metal into gold and can also bestow eternal life, as something supernatural, or just a silly idea. To medievals, it was simply science. And it occurs to me that how we define magic or miracle is a culturally defined or even a personally proscribed kind of thing. If I remember correctly C.S. Lewis said that miracles are things that could and maybe would occur naturally but happen at a miraculous speed. Or something to that effect. I'm fascinated, for some reason, by the etymology of the word influenza. Apparently, medievals believed that any sickness that couldn't be explained by causal, natural events was simply a result of the planetary influences; thus we have influenza. Your astrology causes the flu. And yet, if we could speak to medieval peasants or even more learned members of medieval society and explain that really the flu is caused by a virus, which is this living organism that somehow infects the body, would this really sound any more logical or reasonable? I mean, the medieval might ask to see such a virus, and of course, they are not visible to the naked eye. Is the explanation that we accept, that a virus causes the flu, really any less supernatural or magical than attributing sickness to the planetary influences or even to some spiritual presence. In this spirit, then, I offer thirteen reasons that I believe in magic.

1. Humans are able to look at symbols, dashes of ink really, written across a page and decipher some sort of meaning that is akin to spoken language. Reading is magical.

2. If reading is magical, writing is even more magical. Not only can we interpret symbols, often in complex arrangements, but we can produce them and communicate our thoughts, feelings, and dreams. Writing is another kind of magic. And the pen, as we all know, is indeed mightier than the sword.

3. I suppose that although speech is more natural to humans than reading and writing, speech is magical in its own right. We make sounds with our bodies. And these sounds serve to communicate. But they do more than simply communicate. Words have power.

4. Seeds grow into plants. This is a kind of magic, for what human could have created such workings? We plant tiny seeds, sometimes they look like rocks. Mostly, they certainly don't look alive. And yet, sun and rain and air and earth are all they seem to need. And life appears. And it isn't, of course, some sort of random spontaneous life. But seeds become plants, and plants grow. Every day, there's something new to see in my yard. This, indeed, is magic, more magical than any purported supernatural event.

5. The world is full of colors. Color seem to me to be particularly magical. And not only do we perceive color, but we respond to it on nonconscious and emotional levels. Color means; color moves us.

6. We love and are loved in return. What could be more magical than the mystery yet the nearly universal experience of love, especially sacrificial love.

7. As humans, we are conscious of our mortality. We remember the past, and we understand that there is to be a future. Some argue that this is an important factor than separates us from animals. This also seems to be the curse of humans--it's difficult to live in the present and to fully appreciate the present when we are hung up on the past or worried about the future. And yet, to have this range, this spectrum of experience seem to me to be magic.

8. Our necessities can become pleasures; this is magic. Of course we need to eat. But eating is, for many of us, more than just fulfilling a basic need. We can enjoy it, and we do enjoy it.

9. We have the ability and sometimes the imperative to create. Again, some would argue that creativity, the drive to produce art, is what separates humans from animals. We write songs; we paint; we present our food in a way that is pleasing to the eye; we experiment with our food and our wardrobes and how we speak and how we think. We try new ways of doing things, and even if we return to the old ways, we are sometimes better for having tried something new. This ability to create, to produce a painting or a song that is not just interesting but moving, is truly magic, more so than anything I've read about in folk tales or in Arthuriana. Merlin is no more a magician than you and I. Or maybe it's better to say that you and I are just as much magicians, mages as Merlin.

10. Maybe this is just another form of love, but as humans we have the need to feel connected to something outside ourselves. We connect to other people, to social causes, to God. John Donne reminds us that no man is an island. What he doesn't say is that we are not islands, in part, because we need to feel connected to something other than ourselves.

11. We experience loss and pain, but we heal. And most importantly we grow. Humans are not emotionally or intellectually or spiritually stagnant, or not for very long. We hurt, and we don't like hurting, but we grow. Growth and beauty and strength can come from pain. And people do have the ability to change. This is even more magical than an oak growing from a tiny acorn.

Ok, so that was only 11. I really thought I could do a full 13. Still, a list of 11 reasons is better than no list at all. And maybe I can edit this post later. I do believe in magic. All these things, part of our everyday, natural life seem just as magic as anything we might imagine or read about. I think that because so many of these are mundane we tend to take them for granted, and yet, who would we be with out love and communication and each other?

Oh, OK, it's a couple hours later, and I just thought of two more magical things.

12. Risotto is, indeed, magical. There is, for me, something really fulfilling and satisfying and, yes, magic about making risotto. I mean, it's not hard but it always feels like adding the liquid a bit at a time and stirring and stirring until the whole starchy thing has this almost creamy texture is fascinating and akin to magic. How can it be that rice with a little olive oil and a little onion and a little white wine and a lot of broth can become something so luxe and rich and decadent? Because that's always my experience of even a very simple at-home risotto.

13. Silly, impulsive, fearless crafting is magic. I know that this last item might not make sense to many others, and certainly it's somehow related to creativity. But I love impulsive, inexpensive crafts. I love taking something plain and creating something unique that reflects something about me. See for example, the tee shirts below. I love crocheting scarves and dying slips from goodwill and refashioning things that I've not worn in ages and gluing beads and glitter to everything and sewing and cutting up pretty paper. And I love not worrying about how it'll turn out but simply enjoying the process of creating. I love getting lost in the activity. I love feeling smart and sassy and creative. I love, even, pairing funky argyle socks with a drab skirt and sweater, so that I feel like I've created even a look that's "me." I know that all of this may not sound magic to anyone else. But it is. What could be more magic than using nothing but, say, scissors and glue and pretty paper to make a lovely card?

And so there you have it: some of the reasons that I don't just believe in magic but embrace it.

Wiki Idea

This just occurred to me. What we really, really need, seriously, is a wiki devoted to literary criticism. How helpful would that be? Oh and Thursday Next can define Reader Response Theory much better than I ever could. But more on that later.

Communication and Miscommunication

On Sunday morning, I woke up to a message on my answering machine. It sounded something like this: "Hi Drennan. . .wah wah wah [insert the noises the adults on the Peanuts make]. . .this is wah wah. . .wah wah wah wah wah would love to talk to you wah wah wah." And that was all I could make out. The caller sounded like a female voice. And she didn't leave a number. Now clearly, I have no idea who this was. And I think that the message was possibly left in the wee hours, although it's difficult to say for sure--the power had gone out the night before, and I know that my time stamp thingy was off. So. . .if you left a message on my landline, and I never called back, please call again. It's best to call my cell number if you have it. I feel bad and a little concerned about the whole thing.

Also, this just in. Recently, I have had several people mention things like they wish I had a myspace or that they requested me as a myspace friend and that I ignored. So I've decided that, in the interest of communication, I will start being more active with the old myspace account.

"Pull This Thread As I Walk Away:" Altered Tees and Why They Don't Unravel

Ok, let me say, first, that I think this is a really unflattering picture of me. However, it shows the lace up back of my latest altered tee, which I think is kinda fun. And here's an explanation for C. about why I think this sort of thing can be done without sewing, why it shouldn't unravel. Some of you know that I actually like to sew and while I'm not a brilliant seamstress, I'm not bad. However, sometimes a no-sew project is kinda fun. This particular tee is done by cutting off lengths from the bottom of the tee, poking holes along the scoop back and lacing the lengths from the bottom across. This was a scoop back to begin with, but a regular tee could be cut into this shape. I've borrowed and modified ideas from the book Generation T--108 Ways to Transform a T-Shirt, which is kinda fun and has good ideas. I've left the bottom, where I've cut off a strip unfinished, and the holes I've punched with a craft knife are unfinished too. The kind of knit that the tee is should not unravel--I think it's called a jersey knit. A woven fabric wouldn't work this way and would have to be finished in some way, usually with a hem. I think that the nature of the knit is that the ends and even the little holes just stay the way they are. If you get a small hole in a tee or a polo shirt, it's rather unattractive, possibly, but it doesn't tend to get any bigger. The edge will just kinda curl up a bit, but it works fine. I do think it would look good if the little holes that the band is laced through were finished either with a grommet or an eyelet thingy. But I don't have an eyelet / grommet setter that will work on fabric. But it seems like that would be a fun detail if one wanted a more finished look and wanted to spend a bit more time. It's certainly not a polished look, but it works for casual. This is a purchased tee, and one great thing about it is that it says "Jet Setter" across the front, although you can't see it in this pic. But I just think that's funny. Anyway, I like the idea of wearing clothing that somehow reflects my creativity and all that, so this sort of thing appeals to me, even if it is somewhat trashy and not terribly age appropriate.

This shirt I bought for 3.99. Mostly, I bought it for the color. Again, with nothing but the magic scissors and a craft knife, it becomes something much more interesting. It's much cuter on, I have to say.

More Altered Clothing

Here, a boring purple tee finds new life with the addition of a little ribbon. I like this because the cut up tee is kinda punk, but the green and purple make it girly.

Altered Tees

Ok, so here's my new thing. Here you see a boring black tee. But with my magic scissors, and a few embellishments, it becomes something punky and much more fun. I know that the pic isn't that great, but you get the idea.

More Insomnia

I wonder if blogging about insomnia is somehow generating more insomnia in the world. But last night was another night plagued by the specter of insomnia. Earlier in the day, I went to the pharmacy and bought some sort of homeopathic thing that is supposed to help with sleep. I followed the directions carefully, yet it didn't seem to help at all. Lately, I seem to be able to get to sleep. But I only sleep for like 45 minutes and then am wide awake for hours. Last night, I tried all my old tricks: counting backwards from 300, listening to my iPod, deep breathing. None of it seemed to help. I kept thinking about how I was in the house all alone and how if there were an intruder I probably wouldn't realize it and how if I were to scream no one would hear. I do realize that obsessing about this stuff isn't rational and certainly isn't helpful. But there it was. Yesterday, I also had my annual visit to the gynecologist--woo hoo! That "woo hoo" was sarcasm, by the way. Anyway, sitting in the waiting room felt so weird yesterday, and last night in bed, it was like I kept flashing back to the whole waiting room scene. I felt like I was surrounded by these hugely preganant women; they looked ready to pop. And there they were with men I assume were the fathers of their children. OK, I know this is a terrible thing to think, but they all just looked like they wouldn't be good parents. I realize that, among other things, that's totally classist of me, but I kept thinking, "Why should they get to have a baby?" I feel awful for thinking these things. Then there were several teenagers in the waiting room, waiting to be tested for STIs and to get birth control, no doubt. I've been to the gyno a lot over the past year, and it seems like every time, there's some sort of drama with a 15 or 16 year old girl who either forgot her parents' insurance card or is being chewed out because she missed her last five appointments or whatever. And something about it just freaks me out. I always somehow feel like the pregnant women are being given the VIP treatment and the teenagers are getting lots of attention and I'm persona non grata, as they say. Again, I realize that most of this is in my imagination, but that perception is still there. And I kept thinking and thinking about it all in bed last night. And now I'm to the point in this whole cycle of insomnia where I'm starting to dread going to bed each night. Here it is, only 10:00am, and I'm already worried about going to bed. It's all just maddening!

Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next Series

Last week, I went to the local library, which is really quite a fine library for a small community. While there, I discovered the latest novel in Fforde's Thursday Next series. So I decided that before I read the fifth and most recent novel in the series, I'd reread the first four. So now, I'm on The Well of Lost Plots. And I'm trying to put my finger on what it is that makes this series so entertaining. First, I like that one gets the feeling that Fforde really loves literature but doesn't take it or himself too seriously. There's something wonderful and fun and funny about his play with language and his use of parody. For example, in the fourth in the series, Something Rotten, Hamlet appears as a character who's been transported from Shakespeare's play to Thursday's England, this crazy, alternate England where everyone is all into literature. Anyway, Hamlet is having this identity crisis, which seems somehow apt. And he goes out and rents all these videos with different film adaptations of Hamlet. He can't decide if he wants to be more like Sir Laurence Olivier's Hamlet or Mel Gibson's. And it goes on and on--he analyzes the merits of each, asks others for their opinions. And there's something really funny and absurd but also nearly true, somehow, in all this. And it's indicative of what Fforde does throughout the series. It's all really wonderful. I also recommend Fforde's Nursery Crimes series. It's good light reading. It's funny and clever and not predictable. Fforde is all-round entertainment for English majors.

Insomnia

So last night was not good. I got in bed around 11:00, read until 11:30 or so, turned the lights out, slept for maybe 45 minutes, then was wide awake until nearly 3:30. This morning, I slept until 9:30ish. And now, 45 minutes later, I feel like crap, absolute crap. I feel like I've been out with the dry cows, as some might say. And it drives me crazy when I can't sleep. Seriously, if there is a purgatory, and if it isn't LAX, then it must be insomnia. Truly. So I watched TV--there's not much good on at 2:00am--and read for a while. Mostly, I worried about what the next day would be like and how late I could afford to sleep in without lowering the chances for the next night's sleep. I've had issues from sleep for as long as I can remember, certainly since I was 6. And some nights I sleep fine, but others it's just so miserable. And I never quite know what to do. It all produces anxiety. I've read somewhere that there's a theory that insomnia is about the fear of not being able to fall asleep; for me, fear, or more properly anxiety, feeds it, that's for sure. Because you sit there all anxious about what's going to happen if you don't get enough sleep and anxious about what you should do to promote sleep, and I certainly am not going to drink warm milk--ick! But last night, at about 2:30 I spent a lot of time debating whether or not to get up and take a bath. I guess that I'm thankful that I'm not disturbing anyone else, except for maybe Polly. But it was a truly miserable night.

After a hiatus, I'm back, back to the blogosphere. I wish I had fun, exciting stuff to report, but I don't. Things have been chugging along in a mostly normal, quiet fashion. I was scheduled to start teaching summer school yesterday, but my courses were canceled due to low enrollment. I do have to say that I'm disappointed. I have decided to make use of all the extra time to get some reading and writing done, which is good I suppose. I've also had the time and inclination to practice yoga more than I normally might. I don't think yoga is some miracle cure, but I know that for me, it makes a difference in a number of areas of my life. Lately, I'm using Cyndi Lee's OM Yoga in a Box. She has several books out that are also quite helpful. She does a good job of explaining the postures. Also I'd totally recommend yin yoga to anyone who's looking to really relax and chill out; I've been using the CD and cards that come with Biff Mithoefer's The Yin Yoga Kit . So there, I suppose, are my yoga recommendations. I have other CDs and DVDs that I use also, but these two are the ones I've been using most lately.

I have to say that I'm really enjoying the time off work. In the past, I've always had trouble with more than about a week off work--I tend to get anxious and depressed. But for the past couple of weeks, I've been enjoying sleeping in and reading and watching movies and simply having time to relax. I am so relieved that I seem to be able to handle it.

Anyway, that's an update on me--nothing to exciting or even interesting, I'm afraid. What was it that Tolkien said? Something about how the days that are most pleasant to live are not very interesting to tell about. So that clearly wasn't verbatim, but you get the idea.

Fenway

Here's a new pic of my handsome, handsome baby boy. He's pleased that the Red Sox are in first place in their division; the Yankees are in last. And I feel the same way. You see, it's not so much that I like the Red Sox; it's more that I just HATE the Yankees.

Thursday Thirteen: Thirteen Books I've Never Read But Think I Should Read and Books I've Started But Never Finished But Think I Should Finish

This Thursday Thirteen is in honor of my having finished Bleak House. I decided to read it for many reasons, one of which is that it seems like something someone should read at least once in her life. Oddly, I never expected to actually enjoy it. But I did. Once I got into it, it was interesting and really quite readable. And I always thought I didn't like Dickens! Anyway, here's a list of books that I've either never read and think I should or books that I've started and never finished but think I should. I'm rather embarrassed to admit some of these!

1. Dante: The Divine Comedy. OK, I've started Dante, and I've read most of the Hell section of the poem. And I feel like I know what I need to know, in terms of cultural literacy, about the Divine Comedy--who Beatrice is, for example. But I'm a little embarrassed to have never read all of it. My brother tells me there's an edition with interesting illustrations, maybe by Durer or someone like that, that I should pick up.

2. Virginia Wolf: The Waves. This is one that I really want to read but somehow never get to. In part, I keep thinking, "Oh, I'll reread Dalloway and To the Lighthouse first and then read the Waves." But it never actually happens.

3. Dostoevsky: Crime and Punishment. This is another that I actually want to read. I guess that I've just had other reading priorities, you know?

4. Tolstoy: War and Peace. While we're on the subject of Russian writers, I thought I should fess up to never having read War and Peace. I do remember the Happy New Year Charlie Brown special in which he's assigned War and Peace.

5. The Mabinogion. Again, a volume that I've started several times but never finished. FIY, it's a collection of Welsh myth and folk tales.

6. Joseph Campbell: The Masks of God. So I think Campbell is interesting. And I've read The Hero With a Thousand Faces. And I've read part of the Masks of God. But I've never finished it.

7. Frazer: The Golden Bough. Again, this seems like something I should know more about.

8. Sontag: "Notes on 'Camp.'" This is another one of those that I actually want to read but never quite get to. And yes, I realize it's an essay in a list of books. But it seems to fit.

9. Solzhenitsyn. Ah yes, another Russian. I've started The Gulag Archipelago but never finished. Ditto The Oak and the Calf. But I actually enjoyed them and can't think why I put them down!

10. Thackeray. Again, anything by Thackeray would be an improvement. I'm certainly interested in Vanity Fair. Hey, I've seen the BBC adaptation, does that count?

11. Neil Gaiman: The Sandman Series. This is a graphic novel, for those who don't know. Again, something I started but never finished.

12. Simone de Beauvoir: The Second Sex. Again, I've read some, maybe the first 75 pages, and just didn't feel inspired to finish. Maybe it's because those first 75 pages basically depressed me.

13. Melville: Moby Dick. This is maybe my biggest shame as someone with an advanced degree in literature. I've started Moby Dick a couple of times. And again, I know what I'm supposed to know about it, i.e. "Call me Ishmael." But I've never finished the thing. It's like my own personal whale to conquer. Or maybe it's my personal "El Guapo." Did anyone get that reference?

It seems like The Old Man and the Sea deserves a sort of honorary place in the list. It's a book that I've read several times but wish I'd never read. I can never put my finger on why, but I just hate it.

C.S. Lewis once said that if after the first fifty pages he just isn't enjoying a book, he doesn't finish. And maybe that's a good policy. Maybe life is too short to read books we think we should read but don't bring pleasure. Or maybe I can accept that it's OK to simply not enjoy something that everyone else considers important literature.

Ian Rankin: Knots and Crosses

Ok, so earlier today I finished Ian Rankin's Knots and Crosses. It is the first of his Inspector Rebus novels, set in Scotland. And it was a good read. It was reasonably well written, and the mystery unfolded in an interesting way. But what I think I liked best about it was that while it was a murder mystery, it was really a psychological novel about Rebus. And that's what really appeals to me in this genre anyway; I like mysteries that have interesting, complex, conflicted detective characters. And maybe that's why I like House too. But Rebus is this intelligent, flawed, thoughtful, damaged person, as are so many of us. And he talks about how he's a Christian, but he doesn't really live in the way that he thinks he should. And he prays, but when he's really angry with God, he doesn't want to pray. But when things are tense, he prays anyway. And it strikes me that there's something so universal about it all. I mean, we have standards or values or beliefs, whether we are Christians or not, and we think we should live according to these, and maybe we should. But we find, like Sir Gawain, that sometimes our values come into conflict. And we find that some days we just can't do it. I would offer that those are the days when we really should pray. But life just isn't simple. For Miss Marple, life is simple, right? I mean, all the evil in the world is just like the petty evil in St. Mary Mead. And there's some truth to that. Humans are humans regardless of geography, and they perpetrate the same evils, at least to some degree. But evil, murder, mysteries never end simply and cleanly, with all the loose ends tied up, as they seem to for Miss Marple. Life is messy. And even when we solve the mystery, or right the wrong, or stand up for what we believe in, things are still difficult. Even when Rebus reaches the end of the novel, he's so scarred that life is going to be difficult and painful and even full of loss, no matter that another murderer has been captured. This, to my way of thinking, is like life. And this is the kind of mystery that I like: one with a flawed detective who tries to be moral as best he can, but one who still endures the pains along with the joys of life, after the bad guy is put behind bars. This is the life that we all live.

The Crave Reader

OK, you seriously have to check this out. It's kinda amazing: http://automobiles.honda.com/cr-v/crave/

On Blogging

Ok, so I wish that I had brilliant academic stuff to blog about. Or that I had wonderful intellectual stuff to say. Or that I could blog about politics or literature or theology or something that would indicate that I do have an actual brain in my head and that I'm not completely superficial and self-absorbed. And the truth is that I do think about things (you know, smart stuff, ideas, books, whatever) besides crafts and food and depression. But those more serious things don't quite seem to make their way into this blog. So what I'm trying to get at is this--maybe if I weren't afraid, I'd blog about those kinds of things and really put my ideas and convictions out there. I suppose it's easier to hide behind interests connected to the material world.

Thursday Thirteen: Thirteen Things I'd Do If I Weren't Afraid

Ok, so I've decided that when I don't have some brilliant concept for the Thursday Thirteen, I'd move through Segalove and Velick's List Your Self. I can't remember how I stumbled onto this gem. But here's the idea: one will gain insight of some sort by listing this and that about herself. That was probably obvious. Oh, well. So here we go.

Thirteen Things I'd Do If I Weren't Afraid

1. I'd write a long, long post for all the world to see that describes the evils of my former husband. I don't know why I feel the urge to do this. And I can't imagine that it would be productive on any level. But there it is.

2. Make new friends.

3. Telephone friends I've allowed to fall by the wayside.

4. Become a bone marrow doner.

5. Take art classes at the college.

6. Organize the mess in my basement.

7. Write a novel.

8. Write poetry.

9. Shave my head.

10. E-mail Dan Abrams to say that I think he's pretty fly for a white guy.

11. Take math classes at the college.

12. Admit that I really enjoy reading and watching materials intended for "tweens."

13. Go to church regularly.

Now that I've written these all out, it seems like I've maybe done this topic for a "thirteen" before. Ah well. I think it's good to ask ourselves what we'd do, really do, if we weren't afraid. And OK, I know that some of these are pretty trivial. But some aren't. Oh, a final thought: if I weren't afraid, I'd start sentences with conjunctions and end with prepositions. OK, I admit to doing that already.

Altered Dominos--Early Efforts

Thanks to my much beloved pal Zee, I've been experimenting with altered domino art. Here are some samples. I realize that this isn't the best photo in the world, but you get the idea. I love the two with the vintage photos of children with dogs. The one with the two pink hearts isn't as interesting. The one with multi hearts is simply stamped using dye ink, then colored with permanent marker, then set with a heat tool. The fairy is prettier in "real life." It's embossed using a glittery medium. So these are kinda basic, but it's fun to experiment with different techniques. Pigment ink, by the way, doesn't work, unless used with embossing powder. I'm planning to make these into magnets. But there really are many things one could do with altered dominos.

Thursday Thirteen: Songs I LOVE, Part Deux

1. "All I Want is You"--U2. "Stuck in a Moment" is another fav.

2. "Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show"--Neil Diamond. As we all know, "there are two types of people in this world: those who like Neil Diamond and those who don't." I also like "Sweet Caroline," of course and "Cracklin' Rosie."

3. "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues"--Elton John

4. "Such Great Heights"--Iron and Wine

5. "Beautiful"--James Blunt

6. "Ballad of Jack and Diane"--John Mellencamp

7. "The Sweater Song"--Weezer

8. "Here Comes Your Man"--Pixies. "Gigantic" and "La la Love You" are pretty good too.

9. "Mah na, mah na" as performed on The Muppets. I think the Muppets are grand.

10. In a similar vein: "Rainbow Connection"--performed by Kermit the Frog, of course.

11. "Streets of Bakersfield"--Dwight Yokam and Buck Owens.

12. "I Been Everywhere"--Johnny Cash

13. "One Week"--The Barenaked Ladies. OK, I have to admit that I think of the Barenaked Ladies as Canadian wannabe TMBG. But they're still lots of fun.

Today was one of those days during which everything seems to be about five times more difficult than it really needs to be, know what I mean? And I guess I'm just doing a quick post to decompress or whatever before I try to relax and settle in for the evening. I did get done the grading that I really needed to do, so that's a good thing. And boy did I read some bad stuff, let me tell you. But isn't that always the way of it? I don't know if I should admit this or not, but I had a beer as I was grading. It felt like I somehow needed the beer just to get through, you know? So I was just telling my mom this: when you go to the grocery store and see a sampler pack of this or that, well, I just have a hard time resisting those sampler packs of whatever. I really, really like the idea of trying out a little of this and a little of that and deciding what I like best. And variety packs of stuff is especially appealing to me if it's packaged in an organized, or just a cute, way. So on Saturday, I went to the grocery store and felt like I'd hit the mother load because they had a sampler pack of. . .wait for it. . .Mexican beers! Oh what fun. And no Corona--whew! However, I have to admit that my fav Mexican beer is Negra Modelo, which was not included. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen that in VT. *sigh* One of the things I miss most about CA is Mexican food. I'm not exaggerating. Mexican food and Trader Joe's. Well, maybe someday I'll be living on the West Coast again, who knows? I miss it lately. I mean, I know that most people would say that Bakersfield is no great shakes, and maybe that's true. But the bottom line is that it still feels like home. Oh, and it's a dry heat.