I'm "Outing" Myself

This announcement is worthy of my super-special-favourite (let's use the "u" in honor of Virginia W. today) pinkish font. I've done it. Per Dr. Phil's and my mother's advice, support, and urging, I've signed up at match.com. Yes, I am officially trolling the internet for prospective whatevers. I feel slightly weird about it, which I shouldn't. So I thought it best to just let the world know that this is who I am right now, today.

Teaposts

Ok, so here's a really great idea, only it's really Dolce Carina's idea, owing to a typo, but I think it's an idea worth exploring: teaposts.

Teaposts are these little roadside (or maybe even in the food court at the mall) tea shops. Maybe they are kinda like Starbuck's sans the Seattle vibe and plus a hip, British vibe. So you go into the teapost, maybe it's like a reststop along the interstate, maybe it's just in your local shopping center. And, obviously, you order a cup of tea. And they bring you this proper cup of tea, with lemon and cream. And it's not that fannings-shit-tea in a stupid tea bag, but it's looseleaf in this great strainer. And they serve it up to you in like a pretty Royal Daulton cup, and you get like your currant scone, or your ginger scone or whatever, and it's like this cool mini-break to break up the drive down the interstate, like the one from LA to San Fran when you are stuck out there in the desert with nothing but the Harris Ranch beef farm to look forward to. Or maybe, because your significant other is in this big hurry (like he can't give up 10 minutes for you to drink your tea--maybe he just doesn't get the significance of tea), you get it to go. And your to go tea still comes with all the fun condiments and what-have-you, and it's served in some pretty to go cup, something non-styrofoam.

We totally need teaposts. And when we are tired of all the things we think we should be doing, we can all meet up at the teapost, naturally with our PTs (personal transcriptionists) in tow, because in case we say anything brilliant at the teapost, we need someone to copy it down.

Wow! Thanks DC for such a brilliant idea.

Toads

Suddenly, my back yard is over run with these tiny, tiny toads. Here's a rather blurry pic of one sitting on my thumb, just to show the scale.

But really, there are toads EVERYWHERE. They are kinda interesting and pretty cute because they are so little. At the same time, it makes me rather nervous, because I worry about stepping on them, or what will happen when the lawn-guy mows, or what it will be like when they become big toads.

My guess is that they are migrating and will only be temporary visitors to my yard, rather than permanent guests.

I'm a Happy Hooker!

I realize that it may seem silly to devote a blog entry to my recent crochet projects, but they just really make me happy right now. I recently purchased the latest in the uber hip knitster Stitch N Bitch series, titled Stitch N Bitch Crochet: The Happy Hooker. While some may find the title in questionable taste, it's a great little book that gives both the basics of crochet and some super cool patterns. I just finished this great little scarf that's a bunch of crocheted flowers crocheted together! Ladies (and this is a serious offer), I love making scarves, and I really don't have need of more, so if you'd like one, let me know. Dolce Carina can tell you that I can crochet a mean (or at least a fashionable) winter time scarf. I keep thinking that I wish I could figure out how to make and SELL scarves. I mean, there has to be some chic little botique out there where hand-made scarves would sell. Or maybe I could have a web site. A friend I work with makes and sells tote bags and other assorted items on web site.

See www.zeebagsvt.com

I mean, I could do this, right? I know I wouldn't get rich, but at least I could spend those long, winter in Vermont evenings creating something that could be of use to others.

Seriously, if anyone wants a scarf, e-mail me. I'm thrilled to make them for friends!

Yummy, Yummy Pasta!

Oh, this is worth reporting! So yesterday, I made this great pasta, and it was so totally easy, thank you Rachael Ray! While the spaghetti (or whatever you want is boiling), you melt some unsalted butter in a pan with a little pepper and some olive oil. Before draining the pasta, you reserve some of the cooking water, then toss the drained pasta in the butter and oil mixture, adding as much of the cooking water as is needed to mositen everything. Finally, you add a handful or two of grated Peccorino-Romano cheese. As Rachael Ray would say, "Yummo!"

I know that some of you out there love me in spite of the fact that I'm a big fan of Rachael Ray, but this recipie was really, really yummy. It was just like really good comfort food, like Mac N Cheese for adults, all buttery and cheesy and yummy. And there was something just really satsifying about eating it, you know?

Summer School

Ok, so maybe I'm just being a big baby here--wouldn't be the first time--but I'm so thankful that this is the last week of summer school. For some reason, I had the misguided idea that teaching summer school would somehow be less stress than teaching during the regular term. I've taught summer school many times before. In fact, last summer was the first summer since I started teaching that I didn't teach at all over the summer. And in the past, it's been a positive experience. The crop of students and the workload has just been different than during the regular academic year. But this summer, the bottom dropped out, I suppose. It's not that summer school has been an inordinate amount of work, because the actual number of hours I spend working seems quite managable, certainly no more than during the regular year. The stress, however, has been nearly overwhelming. Seriously, there were several times last week and the week before when I was concerned that I'd have a panic attack and not be able to teach. Of course, I didn't have a panic attact, not at all, but the anxiety has really been bad. My neck and shoulders have been all tight and uncomfortable for the last ten days. Anyway, all of this to say one thing: I am so thankful that this is the last week. Then, in just a couple more weeks, California, here I come!!!

Virginia Woolf's The Years

Ok, this kind of thing drives me crazy, well, crazier than usual anyway. I'm working on reorganizing my books (and I'm entering them into librarything.com, just because I'm neurotic, I think), and I cannot find my copy of Woolf's The Years. I know I purchased a copy in December or January. And I know that I read it. In fact, I distinctly remember sitting at the coffee shop downtown reading and then calling Dolce Carina and goin on and on about how wonderful it was. I know I own this book! But I can't find it anywhere. And sure, I could buy another copy or whatever. Rationally, I know this isn't that big of a deal, but it's got to be somewhere, right? This kind of thing really bothers me. I wish I could just calm down and be normal, you know?

Student: I don't know why you keep giving me Cs on my essays. You keep saying bring up pacific examples, and I do bring up pacific examples. I don't know how more pacific I can be. Every time you write "be more pacific," and I do be more pacific, but you keep giving me Cs anyway.

Instructor: Would you like to make an appointment so that we can talk about this in more detail and work on improving your work?

Student: I don't know what the point would be. It seems pointless. No matter what I do, and I do be pacific, you keep giving me Cs. It's pointless.

Instructor: So are you saying you don't want to work with me outside of class?

Student: I don't know what the point would be. You give me Cs.

Instructor: The point would be that we'd sit down together, look at all your work, and talk about strategies for improving it.

Student: I brought you my rough draft that one time, and you told me what to do, and I did it. And even the rough draft you said was passing quality, and then you gave me a C anyway.

Instructor: Yes, passing quality. That's what a C means--passing.

Student: I didn't take this class to get a C.

Instructor (to herself): Well, you certainly didn't taken this class in order to learn anything.

A Survey

Ok, I have a question for the group: Do all of you know the difference between the words "specific" and "Pacific"? Because apparently some of my students think they can be used interchangeably. Am I merely expecting too much? I could scream!

Reminder to self: The work is its own reward!

I just ate the most wonderful dinner. I had this great open faced turkey burger with sauteed onion and mushrooms and gorgonzola. It was just really, really wonderful. I get excited about things like really good food.

My other project of the moment is that I'm cataloging all my books on Library Thing, which is this really fun (or maybe it's just fun for compulsive types) web site. As soon as I get things entered, I'll post a link so that you can view my virtual library or whatever. The compulsive part inside me has always wanted to type up little tags with Library of Congress call numbers so that I can organize my books accordingly. I suppose that would be going a bit far, but I just keep thinking of the deep feeling of fulfillment I'd get from such an accomplishment.

What Do I Do?

Sometimes, I wonder and wonder what I do with my time. Today, for instance, I find myself lying on the bed drinking tea, cuddling with my dogs, thinking about Dolce Carina and A.H. who sent me the most encouraging e-mail earlier in the week, and reading Anne Lamott's Bird by Brid, hoping Lamott will inspire me to get off my backside and start writing. When what I know I'm really doing is NOT writing and NOT doing the cleaning that needs to be done and NOT organizing the mess in what I'm calling my office. Only the term "office" implies that work or creativity or something is going on in that space, but it isn't. And I wonder, "What do I do with myself each day?" and, "Why aren't I doing the things that would make me happy and healthy?" and, "Why am I drinking pink sparkling wine with nachos for lunch?" And at that moment, I am afraid I'll fall apart. I think it was the recognition that I'd eaten nothing BUT nachos and cookies for the last 36 hours and there I was eating nachos again, but this time with tepid tea and sparking wine thrown into the mix. So here I am, at least writing something, no matter how innane. But I hope that someone will understand, will understand the picture of me lying on the bed and, oh I forgot to mention that while I'm doing all this other crap the Sci-Fi Channel's Twilight Zone marathon is running rather softly in the background. SIDE NOTE: One thing I LOVE about the Fourth of July holiday is the TV marathons. Currently, I'm trying to decide: Do I do productive things on the Fourth, or do I watch USA's Monk marathon all day long? Sad, isn't it, that I watch so much TV. I didn't used to be this way. But there it is.

It seemed like this rant was in order. If nothing else, I'm being honest about the state I'm in, and that's a good thing. Sometimes this state of things seems pointless, but then I realize, that I'm more relaxed in the last six weeks, since moving really, than I have been in years, quite literally. I suspect that's worth a lot in terms of my overall health and attitude and productivity. So maybe it's OK to spend Sunday afternoon listening to the Twilight Zone and reading and promising myself that tomorrow I will organize my so-called office. Maybe learning to relax is the most valuable thing I could learn just right now.

The Power of Pretend

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the power and the results, really, that seem to come from pretending. Last year, as I was writing my dissertation, a real pain in the backside, my strategy was to go into my office each day, all summer long and pretend to work on my diss for the eight-hour work day. My idea was that if I went in and sat there and pretended for long enough, eventually I'd get so bored that I'd get down to work. And it totally worked! I'd pretend for a while and eventually I'd notice that I'd be getting work done. Since then, I've applied the pretend principle to a number of areas of my life. I'd go to my office and pretend to work on other things, and work would almost magically happen. I have often struggled with insomnia. When I'm tired, I tell myself that I'll get in bed and pretend to sleep. Pretend is good enough. That got rid of some of the pressure to get to sleep. I think only people who have experienced it will understand. But the thing is that eventually sleep just happens.

So recently, I read that if one is in a bad mood or feeling depressed or whatever, the thing to do is to pretend, to act like one is feeling A-OK about life. And it works! When I think I'm in a bad mood, I try to get out of the house and behave as though I'm loving life. Eventually, I forget about the discouragement, and I am loving life. Just today, I had this weird, horrible, awful conflict with a student. During the confrontation, I felt not just irritated and frustrated, as often happens, but actually threatened by this large male specimen yelling at me. I left work feeling oh-so-frustrated. But I came home and decided to pretend. I pretended that I was celebrating. I made myself a fun, light supper. I opened a bottle of this great pink champagne. And I pretended that I was celebrating life and all my successes. And the pretend paid off. Suddenly (and I don't think it was just the alcohol), I felt like I actually had much to celebrate.

More and more, I believe in the power of pretend. I believe that if I behave as though I'm excited and positive about life, I will feel it. And if I pretend that everything will be Ok someday, maybe it will be.

Things (From the Mundane to the Miraculous) for Which I Feel Thankful Today

1. That Ruby was born healthy

2. That the sun is shining

3. My iPod (Still so in love!)

4. Really good dinners

5. Having a job that I enjoy (well, I enjoy it most of the time!)

6. Living in such a wonderful, perfect house

7. Living in such a wonderful, perfect house on such a beautiful piece of property

8. Emma and Lauren

9. Jake, Cheri, and John

10. Mexican food

11. That my parents are actually still married to one another--seems like so many in my generation are the children of divorced parents!

12. Guinnie and Polly

13. Really mindless television

14. Really intelligent television

15. Hugh Laurie

16. Cara, Cortney, Joy, and everyone else I love

17. My physical health

18. Emotional healing

19. The ability to read and write

AND

20. The Beatles

A Newfound Resolve to Blog

Ok, I know that I've not been blogging with any kind of regularity lately. There are, I think, any number of reasons for that, but they really don't matter all that much, so I'll spare you the details. I have, however, resolved to blog more frequently starting now. I rather regret letting it slide the past few weeks, I have to say, in part because I've read such interesting things, and it would be useful to have a record of what I've read and what I've been thinking about it. And maybe I'll come back to it. Let me say this: Anne Lamott is like meeting a new friend. Also, Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking was emotionally difficult to read (it's about the year after her husband of 40 some years dies unexpectedly) but is beautifully written. This just confirms my sense that Didion is a brilliant writer. Also, simply not reading fiction all the time is different for me.

But here I am with my renewed resolve to blog. My goal, as before, is to write at least one entry each day, even if it's a short, mundane entry. The important think, for me, is that I simply keep writing. It's like treading water, in some ways. It doesn't seem to always get me where I want to go, but it at least keeps my head above water until I figure out something better. My secondary goal is to write at least something, even two sentences, about each book-length thing I read. Incidentally, I just started Lamott's Bird by Bird. It seems encouraging. But maybe it's just that I like Lamott's voice as a writer.

I'm also reading Camille Paglia. Paglia, for those of you who don't know her work (and I'm not suggesting that you should) is this crazy, outspoken anti-feminist feminist. And she's got this almost frenetic energy that seems to drive her work. Although I don't necessarily agree with her, I always find her writing insightful. By that, I mean that I feel like I'm learning something or at least having to think. One thing I enjoy about Paglia is that she draws her examples from this wide array of Western culture, citing classical myth, art history, and contemporary pop culture to make one point. She's so sweeping in her range and also in her assertions, and she allows few objections. I'm fascinated by her rhetorical approach as well as her knowledge. I do have to say this, however: I am reading feminist stuff again. I seem to turn to this at uncomfortable, unsettled points in my personal life, although I'm not feeling especially unsettled at the moment. So I don't know what's going on. As far as I'm aware, I'm relatively content. I do start to wonder what's going on when feminism is appealing to me.

And so there it is, the update on what's really important in my life.

Just a Couple More Pics

I really LOVE my deck, but these pictures don't do it justice.

Planters on the Deck

Ok, these aren't the greatest pics, but I'm posting them mostly for the benefit of my mom. These show the planters and the new furniture on my deck. I wish I could take a pic that showed the whole thing, but I can't get it all to fit in a single picture.

I'm having rather a rough time emotionally lately, and the worst part of it is that I feel like it's all my fault yet I'm not fixing it. I am so frustrated, mostly with myself. And my anxiety is pretty bad. I don't know what to do. I'm just so irritated. Relaxing is really hard lately.

I guess the thing is that I don't do all the things each day that I think I'm supposed to do: yoga, pray, meditate, write. And I'm annoyed with myself. Yet I don't seem to do anything about it.

I know, also, that I've fallen behind on correspondence and such. If any of you bother to read this blog anymore, I apologize for not being a better friend. I'm not sure what's going on with me, other than I can't seem to get anything done. But I can't relax either.

I don't know what to do anymore.

Anne Lammot

Just wanted to say real quick that I'm reading Anne Lammot, and she's pretty amazing.

I really promise to blog more often; I need it!

D

"Sucks to your ass-mar"

So I've just been diagnosed with a "reactive airway," which according to my doctor is what "we used to call asthma." Apparently, "asthma" is a relatively broad term, and the medical establishment is trying to be more precise. It's really not all that big of a deal, for the most part. I have this cough that won't go away, but that's about it. And I can use an inhaler to open my air ways. The thing is that the inhaler makes me feel all amped, you know? Like I've had about three too many lattes. So I try not to use it at night.

Sometimes, I lie in bed and cough and can't stop. And all I can think is, "Sucks to your ass-mar." And that just makes me giggle which, in turn, makes me cough even more.