Dru Blood - I believe in the inherent goodness of all beings: September 2003 Archives

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« August 2003 | Main | October 2003 »

I wonder how many more times I will be able to get away with this.

September 30, 2003

The boys are having one of their "slumber parties." They don't know it yet, but a "slumber party" is a desperate attempt for mama to get some peace and quiet before the usual bedtime. It always involves letting the boys sleep in the same bed. Sometimes a flashlight, sometimes there's popcorn. Tonight there was an admonishment that they MUST. STAY. IN. BED. (and to please try not to hurt each other). The light was put out about 45 minutes before Monk's usual bedtime, and mama sat in the kitchen with her head on the kitchen table for a little while.

I can here them in there - which is against the rules of this particular slumber party - but I'm not going to go in there. I'm just going to sit here and wait for there to be silence in that general area so I can go about my nightly business. I might even sleep in Monk's bed, after I change the sheets.

It has been. A Day. And not for any reason other than I am tired. Friday can't come soon enough. Work is stacked up for me, and home is also busy. Very busy. Monk has outside the home activities just about every day of the week, I have about a thousand lincoln logs that I need to find and return to Connections, library books are overdue...all of this stuff that really clearly indicates that I need a vacation, but it's not looking like a vacation is imminent because, frankly, I have too much work to do at work.

At work, I'm busy trying to help organize my part of a webraising that will be taking place in November, working on my blogging class, trying to get a volunteer to teach a Photoshop class (which starts in, like, TWO WEEKS), working on pulling some stuff together for a curriculum project we've undertaken, and doing a bunch of general paperwork that is required for the day-to-day operations of where I work. Plus other stuff that I am conveniently allowing myself to not think about for now...I'm sure I'll remember it all when I'm at work tomorrow (oh yeah shit, I need to submit my freaking timesheet.)

The boys just burst from the bedroom, talking about being BORED. They are tired of playing "tomato" - which, apparently, is a game where they both curl up into little balls on the bed, pretending they are "tomatoes" and roll around all over. Coley no longer wants to play that game. He'd much rather throw Lincoln Logs all over the living room (someone PLEASE remind me to NEVER EVER EVER get lincoln logs from connections again.)

Anyway, I allowed myself to look at some paint chips today. I'm getting excited about painting that back room, and I have found someone who will be able to help me. He has all of the painterly supplies that I need, plus he has a vested interest in helping me out. Plus I will make him food and stuff in exchange. I'm very thankful to be getting some help. VERY thankful. I think he also might help me repair my fucking gate so it doesn't scrape the ground when I try to open and close it. This is a good thing.

I'm tired. I'm so so so terribly grouchy right now. And I'm thinking about my questions from yesterday - about reframing that "On Strike" post to focus more on what parents need - what choices would we WANT - rather than what is currently available. I gotta tell you, there's a false dichotomy between those who work outside the home and those who work primarily inside the home. Working outside the home is not necessarily what I would consider child abuse or even, as I termed it, "abandoning your child to the state." The issue is not the number of hours you spend in the presence of your children. The issue is the amount of time you spend being fully present with your children. And not only that, but what are the options you would like to have that are currently unavailable to you.

For me, my living/working situation feel so tenuous as to be frightening. I have no idea if I'm going to be able to keep my job in a year if our funding runs out. And if I don't keep this job, I can't as of right now think of a single job that I can take in the evenings that would pay me what I'm making now - enough to live. And this home is not sale-worthy in the least, so I don't have the option of "just selling" and getting on. I'm thankful that for now I have the ability to make the choices that I have made, and I really don't tend to dwell on the tenuousness of those options, but I do on occasion get pissed off about the fact that I am THIS close to being unable to support my ideal lifestyle, which isn't all that extravagant. And that takes me right into being pissed off that there are people who can't even get to where I am, in a position where they even have a tenuous relationship with something resembling an ideal situation.

It makes me mad that we're so tired, and that we don't have time to form communities for ourselves and our children. It angers and frustrates me that our economic system places more value on working to create product than it does on working to nurture our children and each other. It pisses me off that my children will be indentured servants to the debt we are creating ever day. A fiscal debt. An emotional debt. An environmental debt. A TIME debt. We are borrowing all of these things from our children without the ability or intention to pay it back.

My argument is that the world will not cave in upon itself if we all "worked" a lot less (and by "work" I mean doing meaningless tasks for profit rather than meaningful tasks to fulfill need). In fact, the world would most likely benefit from a slowing of production and unnecessary work. So, that's my ideal. My ideal looks like a world where the needs of all people are fulfilled, including the need for some people to stop. To slow down. To NOT work. It's not laziness that compels us to slack. It's sanity.

Posted at 11:16 PM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Could I BE any more GROUCHY?

September 30, 2003

I woke up way too early today so I could babysit for someone (for pay! Yay.) and the kids and I basically went right from the babysitting gig to our co-op craft gathering. Which meant that neither child really had any one-on-one time with me, and I was fucking GROUCHY.

It seemed like everything Monk said the whole day was YELLED. And both kids were saying poop and pee and ass and butt like every fourth or fifth word they spoke, and I really really am feeling very burned out here.

But...it's now 3:15. Soon I will be able to go into a brief seclusion to proofread some resumes, and then I will go to work briefly, and then I'm going to meet up with my workmates and the teachers we share our classrooms with and have dinner. I'm hoping I can get through the night without telling someone to fuck off. Because right now, that's really what I feel like screaming. Loud.

I'll be ok after I top off the caffeine level.

Posted at 3:13 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Changing the Rhythm

September 29, 2003

I've noticed something somewhat disturbing in the past couple of weeks, since we've been trying to maintain some sort of regular rhythm in our homeschool day. That is, I don't spend very much time in one-on-one activities with Coley. Most of the activities that I have planned through the days are Monkcentric, and I just find something to distract Coley enough to allow us to do our work.

I also really need to scrap this overly restrictive schedule that I planned out and instead offer a menu of activities that the kids can choose from on a daily basis. I figured out that what I'm going to do is have morning circle time where we're all together, and then do one-on-one with Coley for about an hour or so while Monk plays with the computer or entertains himself...and then in the afternoon, Monk will get my undivided attention for an hour or so while Coley is engaged in something that he enjoys (like playing in Monk's room or playing with the computer). Then when I come home from work - at bedtime - I'll spend about 30 minutes with each of them one-on-one.

Soon enough, Coley will be able to understand when it's Monk's turn to have my full attention, and it won't be nearly as difficult as I know it's going to be at first. He already seems to understand the bedtime thing - I've been able to put him down and then tell him "OK, now I have to go put Monk to bed" and Cole will lay in bed by himself until he falls asleep.

Today, the boys played outside for much of the morning. I am so happy that summer is drawing to a close. Coley and I did some painting, and now he's walking around the house with a magnifying glass, "finding clues."

Another idea I have is to do a weekly newspaper scavenger hunt. Doesn't this sound like an awesome way to occupy the kids so I can read the paper at least once a week? Monk can look for words and concepts, and Coley can look for pictures. Does anyone have any good ideas about stuff I should put on the scavenger hunt list? Stuff like "find a map" or "look in the classified ads for a car you might like" or something. Gimme some ideas! I'm going to do it this week with the Sunday paper. This dovetails nicely with my idea that I want to find a few articles every week that illustrate simple, positive things that happen every week.

Some links for newspaper scavenger hunts:

http://iteslj.org/Lessons/Goodmacher-NewsScaven.html

http://216.239.41.104/search?q=cache:y3PT3vbUxUoJ:www.redding.com/community/nie/activities/act_news_scavenger_hunt.shtml+%22newspaper+scavenger+hunt%22&hl=en&ie=UTF-8

http://www.teachercreated.com/lessons/000721cl.shtml

http://www.nwanews.com/nie/educators/PDFs/Another_Scavenger_hunt.pdf

http://www.kidskitchenreadingclub.com/kids/rc_newshunt.html

http://teachers.net/lessons/posts/2836.html

http://www.bgsu.edu/colleges/edhd/programs/ASPECT/po2.html

http://www.flash.net/~presv/Frames/TeacherHints/NewspaperScavengerHunt.htm

Posted at 12:32 PM • Comments (7) • TrackBack

Gone Protesting.

September 29, 2003

I somehow managed to convince Monk to come with me to the protest. Don't even ask me how, because it was a lot easier than I though, and did not involve bribes in any way...although after he agreed, I did tell him that I would get him some ice cream after the fact. So I spent the morning packing our snack bag and preparing for the day's adventure. Sandwiches, fruit leather, energy bars, water...and when some friends stopped over, I was able to run to the store and pick up some juice, which is a special treat for my kids.

We were late heading out, and just as we got about a block from the bus stop, I saw our bus pass by. Rats. Buses don't run often on Sunday here, so I mentally prepared myself for a 30-45 minute wait at the bus stop. Luckily, there's a bus stop by a church here where they have a bunch of benches spread out under a large, shady tree with rocks all around. The kids were able to entertain themselves by looking at rocks. Monk declared that he was Zeus! King of the Sky! Cole was Hera, who Monk claimed was King of the Sea! (I think he's wrong about this one, but I haven't checked yet.) and I was Hades! King of the Underworld! I got about ten minutes of entertainment factor out of insisting that I was, instead, King of the underWEAR! Well, OK, Cole was entertained by this...Monk just kept getting progressively more pissed off until finally our bus arrived.

Amazingly enough, my friend and neighbor M got on the bus at the next stop. Well, I mean, M is car free, so it's not like it's amazing for her to ride the bus...and we see each other at protests all of the time, so it's not like it was amazing that she should be going to this protest...but, well, I'm not quite sure what was amazing about it, except maybe that we were both running late and that we hadn't talked about attending this protest when we saw each other last week. At any rate, we rode down to the stop closest to the library.

As we approached Wooldridge Park, I was a bit disappointed by the turnout. We sat down to listen to the speakers. Monk didn't seem very pleased, so I was trying to cheer him up by pointing to all of the cool dogs who came out to protest the war. We saw Susan, of comments fame...and when the presenters stopped talking we all got up to march a very indirect route to the Federal Building. I don't usually take the kids with me to protests, and I realized yesterday that it's very difficult for me to participate with them present. I felt very concerned that Monk might have been too hot or not having fun, so I kept asking him if he was OK, and even though he had what looked like a very serious look on his face, he kept saying "I'm FINE mom! Gah!"

It went on like this, Cole asleep in the stroller and monk acting vaguely dissatisfied in spite of his claims of being "fine." until suddenly I heard Monk giggle. I looked over at him, and he declared "I LIKE that sign!" and pointed to the sign that said "Impeach the lying weasels" and had a crudely drawn image of a weasel. We both laughed about it, and Monk seemed to enjoy himself a bit more after that.

At one point, Monk asked me "Is this protest "civil disorder?" And I responded, not knowing if there was a technical DEFINITION of civil disorder, and not really feeling like disorder is necessarily a BAD thing, "Well, no. Civil disorder implies that people are out of order, and we are completely IN order. All of the people here are just using a particular mode of expression because we all feel like we're not being heard." I stopped short of explaining that civil disorder was not necessarily a BAD thing...there are just some things I probably need to save for later. "This is just part of being an American, Monk. I feel like we are all doing our duty here."

This seemed to perk him up a bit.

I have to say that the asshole in the SUV at, I think, 8th and Congress, who felt like a good counter protest would be to sit there and rev his engine threateningly as we held up traffic crossing the street, was a complete idiot. He couldn't have provided a better metaphor - sitting in his gas guzzler, guzzling more gas just to bestow a warning upon people who were walking in the street with no protection save the two or three motorcycle cops separating the cars from us. Brilliant, dude. You really made your point. You'd rather RUN INNOCENT, UNARMED PEOPLE OVER in your car than allow them to have a voice. Love it. You should be president.

Anyway, We made it to the Federal Building in one piece, and sat upon the uncomfortable concrete there and listened to more speakers. I was even more disappointed by the turnout when they called the family members of people who are currently in Iraq to the podium and what looked like HALF of the people present made their way to the front of the crowd. We all heard stories of the family members who are currently serving. Some righteous anger over the various injustices being done to the members of our armed forces...

But mostly I was just barely able to pay attention as I watched my kids run around and around. The pavement at the federal building is seriously some dangerous stuff, and several kids were sporting skinned knees as a medal of honor for having survived a fall there. I was just waiting for Coley to fall down and skin his entire face or something...and at the same time, they were having so much fun chasing each other around that I didn't want to interfere. So I just sat there, silently fearful, but enjoying the sound of their laughter.

And that's pretty much how it ended. We went to the bus stop, rode the bus home. Monk made sure to point out that he booed at the speakers (I didn't hear him boo, but I think he felt like he hadn't staged an adequate counter-protest, and that I might get the idea that he was hip to all of this dumb peace stuff.) I got the kids their promised ice cream and we made pizza for dinner.

Pretty much it's an entirely different scene for me when I bring the kids. I feel kind of restricted and distracted, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. But the whole protest seemed very low-energy, and I'm having a difficult time determining if that's because it was a low-energy protest or if it's because I wasn't really able to invest as much of my energy into it as I wanted.

I did get to meet a couple of cool mamas, one of whom I've met before, but never really hung out with. They were people from the old hipmama days. I was pleased about that.

Posted at 9:13 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Monkisms

September 28, 2003

Monk came up with two of the best Monkisms I have ever heard last night. I thought I'd share. He's so funny!

First, he was in his room reading Ranger Rick. I think this issue has a bunch of stuff about spiders, so that's what he was reading. Frequently, when Monk reads books, he will poke his head out from wherever he's holed up and spew some kind of factoid or other about the topic at hand. He came out into the kitchen and said, "Mom! Mom! Mom! Now I know why spiders have SO MANY eyes!"

"Why's that, Monk?" I responded, innocently assuming he was going to regurgitate some trivia about the hunting and/or mating habits of some spider or other...

Instead, he responded "Well, duh! They need them because they have SO MANY children!"

Did I ever hear that! What I wouldn't give for 6 more arms and a few hundred extra pairs of eyes.

Anyway, later we were quizzing each other with Brainquest First Grade. (and yes, as a matter of fact I DID get all my questions right, thankyouverymuch. Genius points and ALL.) One of the questions I had to ask him was something like "What is the sun composed of: Gas? Water? or Oil? I shit you not when I say that my war-loving, peace-bashing son said:

"Well, I know it's not made of oil, because if it was, the United States would have invaded it by now."

Oh, man. I've brainwashed him. Just like I brainwashed Cole this morning by accidentally getting him hooked on these little flash videos that Ms. Insane sent me the link to on AIM. The child kept making me show them to him again and again and again...and tonight when I was putting him to sleep, he started singing the Oompa Loompa song, and I just know he was visualizing George W. Bush in braids.

Posted at 10:59 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Radical Cheerleaders make Newsweek

September 28, 2003

Infoshop linked up this Newsweek article about the radical cheerleaders. I like how they tried to insert drama by making it sound like the radical cheerleaders are somehow treading on the sacred rite of perky females and males everywhere who uphold some sort of cheerleader code or something.

The picture kicks ass, too. We could have used some radical cheerleading at todays demonstration to spice things up a bit, but I was too busy trying to keep my children from scraping off the top five layers of their skin on the SURELY-designed-to-be-dangerous-and-uncomfortable pavement at the Federal building.

What an exhausting day. More later.

Posted at 6:41 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

On Strike [part one of two]

September 28, 2003

Yesterday, I posted a link on randomWalks to this article. Since then, I have done a lot of thinking about the value of my work as a parent, and the frustration I sometimes feel over the fact that the work of parents everywhere is undervalued. I was thinking about what happens if a large workforce found themselves undervalued and/or underpaid — if they have any solidarity, they go on strike.

It occurs to me that, perhaps unconsciously, parents HAVE gone on strike.

Faced with the choice of staying home to nurture and care for their children, facing poverty, stigma, and sometimes boredom that comes from living in a society that is not set up to serve the interests of the parent as well as the child, parents walk out on their children, hire their own scabs, and get "real" jobs, instead.

The problem is that the state wants us to walk out on our children, and the real losers are those who are too young to unionize. And, by putting parents in the position of having to choose between poverty and a nurturing relationship with their children, we are not only damaging the children, but we are also damaging the psyches of the parents who are forced to abandon them to the state. Any mother who has had to leave their young child in the care of someone else for any length of time knows the agony of hearing their child cry for them...and understands the misery of detachment that occurs. I remember when I returned to work after Monk's birth, I came home every night and cried for hours. All of that built up misery at having suddenly been wrenched from the comfort of holding the baby and the hormonal relaxation of nursing was almost too much to bear. Gradually, I "got used to it" - as everyone told me I would. But I couldn't help but wonder if "getting used to it" was just a euphamism for deadening my senses, or shutting off my empathy.

I wonder about this kind of thing when I hear about parents who "forget" that their children are in the car and leave them there to bake in the sun. I can't imagine being that out of tune with your child...but, I guess, to some degree I can. We are forced to detune ourselves just to get through the misery of having to leave our children in the hands of the state while we work for someone else. And then, to add insult to injury - or perhaps as a warning to those parents who might be willing to forgo the pursuit of financial security in order to actually care for their own children - we get the stigma of the "welfare mom."

I truly wonder what the long-term ramification of this are/will be. I can only surmise, based on what I see and experience.

So, given that we have this situation where so many of us have been forced to betray our children for fear of being stigmatized or living in poverty - how do we change things? Some suggestions:

Figure out how, if it's at all possible, to de-institutionalize our children. Form cooperatives with friends and neighbors and family members, loving adults who can help care for your children if you need to work outside the home. And if you are able to stay home with your children, figure out how to help other parents de-institutionalize their children.
Advocate for the government to provide a monthly parenting allowance which is large enough to validate the very real work that parents do in caring for their children at home. Don't back down, don't compromise, and don't be fooled by people who say "it was your choice to have children - you need to deal with it." The fact you chose a job of your own volition does not mean you don't have the right to ask for just compensation.
DON'T go on strike. Institutionalizing your children does not benefit them. You are the childcare expert your child needs. You are the teacher your child needs. You don't benefit from institutionalizing your children - not only does it cut you off from them, but it divorces you from the potential of finding and developing a loving community of people who have you and your child's best interest in mind.
Be inventive. You can do it. Don't be afraid. Consider that you are sacrificing your child's best interests for money. Many parents feel that they are doing this in the best interest of the children, but the best security you can give a child is the security that comes from a loving, nurturing relationship with people who are not paid to care for them*...there MIGHT be another way.
Any other ideas...?

[part two of this series will talk about how we are not only being forced to abandon our children to the state, but how we are then turning them into indentured servents for our lack of fiscal responsibility, and how it's all unnecessary anyway, as it's not necessary for us as a society to be working outside the home and away from our children as much as we do, anyway. I'd also like to do a part three that has a bunch of links on the topic that I wanted to include within this article, but I really have to get back to work. My kids need me.]

*which is not to say that paid childcare workers are incapable of caring...but due to the transitory nature of that line of work, it's almost unheard of to maintain a consistent relationship between a child and a childcare worker.

I also want to clarify that staying at home with your children does not necessarily make you a better parent than someone who relies upon institutional childcare - nor does relying one institutional childcare make you a horrible person. My objective in writing about this is not to heap further guilt upon parents who are already taxed with the responsibility of all of society's ills. What I'm trying to relate in this article is that our system needs to be revolutionized to appropriately value the work that parents do in raising their children, and to not only allow parents the unstigmatized option of staying home with their children, but also work towards creating a society in which children are welcome in the workplace and parents are not isolated in their roles. A society in which community is easy to come by and does not segregate parents from non-parents, children from adults, children from other children of different ages...etc.

Posted at 11:27 AM • Comments (18) • TrackBack

What a weekend

September 28, 2003

First, Zagg asks me out (oh, shut up! A girl can dream!) And then my pal r@d@r hooked me up with THIS, which makes my long distance "date" THAT MUCH more meaningful.

Posted at 9:29 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Deaf Dog Awareness Week

September 27, 2003

I just happened to click a link at Action Figures Sold Seperately, and wound up on the petfinder page, where I was informed that this week is "Deaf Awareness Week."

Petfinder has a bunch of adorable pictures of adoptable deaf dogs in various locations, and a link to the deafdogs.org.

My beautiful puppy, Twyla, is deaf. She's a great companion, is wonderful with children, is more obedient to hand commands than most of my other dogs have ever been to my voice. We had a difficult time getting used to each other, but at this point my only problems with her stem from the fact that she is SO sweet and lovable that it gets overwhelming sometimes. I'm glad that I found her. I'm glad that she somehow survived the "double penalty" of being born a white boxer AND being born deaf. She is no less able to live a full happy life as a deaf dog as a deaf person is able to live a full, happy life...yet there are those who would say she should not be allowed to live.

I was so afraid that I wouldn't have time to take care of a deaf dog, but I was so in love with Twyla when I met her that I took a chance. I'm glad I did.

Posted at 5:38 PM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

A Question about Typepad

September 27, 2003

Can someone please do the job of six apart (who for some reason refuse to answer e-mail) and let me know if a typepad pro account offers multiple authors for unlimited blogs?

I am going to be offering this blog class, and would like to use typepad as the client, but I need to make sure that each client can have their own log in that corresponds with their own blog - all on one account. I was ASSUMING this was the case, as the features sheet lists that pro accounts can create unlimited blogs...but now I'm worried that this means unlimited blogs with the same author.

If anyone knows the answer to this, please please please let me know. And if anyone from six apart happens upon this post, I would encourage you to please please please answer your e-mails!!

Posted at 4:48 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

INFP

September 26, 2003

I have always always always been an INFP

INFP - "Questor". High capacity for caring. Calm and pleasant face to the world. High sense of honor derived from internal values. 1% of the total population.

Take Free Myers-Briggs Personality Test

Posted at 10:17 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Abbie the Cat

September 26, 2003

I know I've linked to Abbie the Cat before, but it seems like every time I go back I need to tell more people about it. It's such a great site, and it really doesn't ever get old.

Here's an excerpt:

I thought it would be fun to make a newspaper so here is the first ediditon of the ABBIE ThE CAT NEWS PAPER
THE ABBIE THE CAT NEWspaper
written by ME Abbie
date September 2 2003

EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT
i threw uptoday
response teams were on the scene within MInutes and it got cleaned up

THE WEATHEhER
it is chily outside I think and I saw some rain
tomorrows weather is I don't know
maybe it will be nice

CLASIFIEDS ADS
for sale one stupid cat
she is little and thinks she is a pirate
I will sell her for 3 dollars but you have to come get her
when you pick her up you will p[retend you are here for the Shoebox
I promise she will be in the showbox honest

EDIOTIRAL
I thinkit is patently unfair that I am not allowed on top of the dresser anymore
that is my editorial

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
there are none

THE END
this is diferent because newspapers don't usually say THE END at the end
but thankyou for reading

It's written by a cat, you see. That's what's so funny about it. Because normally, cats don't write weblogs.

Posted at 7:39 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Easy Lentil Soup

September 26, 2003

I love this. My whole house smells good and lentil-y. It's gray and rainy outside, and I'm pretending it's cool and windy even though it's probably like 90 degrees. This recipe is totally lifted from the Moosewood Cookbook. The original. It's good though. Everyone needs a decent, simple soup recipe like this. I just changed a couple of things to make it even easier. I'm sinful that way:

Click here for recipe

Posted at 2:54 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Happy Anniversary Austin Critical Mass!

September 26, 2003

I've never participated in a critical mass bike rally, but I have fond memories from a spectator's perspective. Most recently, I was out waiting for a bus in near Flightpath, and was delighted to see 50 or so bikers pedal past, seemingly having the time of their lives, laughing, whooping it up, and saying hello to pedestrians and others. It struck me, as it always does when I step outside of car culture, that if more people biked and walked, it would be easier to form respectful communities, as you are able to slow down and talk to people that you see.

I also remember the raucous rally that passed by when I was participating in the silent walking meditation for peace on the Congress bridge. The contrast of the silent protestors and the rowdy bikers was an enjoyable one. Each group celebrating the message of the other. It was like a parade with clowns and acrobats passing through a somber funeral procession, and it was glorious. I loved it.

So, happy anniversary, Austin Critical Mass. I may not be a participant, but I enjoy what you do, and I'm not ruling out participating one day.

[reminder courtesy of Austin IndyMedia]

Posted at 1:09 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

An Occupied Country

September 26, 2003

This Howard Zinn article was a refreshing thing to wake up to. How he manages to emanate hope in the midst of so many depressing facts is beyond me.

I wake up thinking this country is in the grip of a President who was not elected, who has surrounded himself with thugs in suits who care nothing about human life abroad or here, who care nothing about freedom abroad or here, who care nothing about what happens to the earth, the water, the air. And I wonder what kind of world our children and grandchildren will inherit. More Americans are beginning to feel, like the soldiers in Iraq, that something is terribly wrong, that this is not what we want our country to be.

Thanks to Andrea for the link.

Posted at 8:29 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

October, 1998

September 26, 2003

I just posted some really sad old journal entries from 10/98. If you feel like reading them, they are here. Here's an excerpt:

Yesterday was an orgiastic display of visible/tangible metaphors of my own loneliness, or fears of loneliness, anyway. Walking to Kim Phung with Monk. I say walking to I mean walking through the endless parking lot which is always full on Fridays not because everyone knows Friday is my kim phun night (although My Paranoia is a subject to be covered at great length some other time) but because there is a nightclub in the same complex. I think a cowboy club, but apparently rather popular as I never can find a parking place. But I'm walking in and in front of the viet namese grocery there is a little girl dressed up in western garb, she couldn't have been more than 4. She was just standing there, but after we had passed her by and were almost at Kim Phun, I noticed she was crying and I turned around and she was standing in that doorway crying and I didn't know if her parent(s) were around or what but for some reason I didn't feel like I needed to walk over and try to help here. The image of this little girl dressed up like a cowboy in front of a viet namese supermarket was just indelible. Thankfully, I did see her with her mother as I was exiting the premisis, so I didn't feel bad about not doing anything. Or I didn't have to consciously, but I'm sure I did subconsciously as is about to be revealed.

It's so disheartening to realize how very long I have been dissatisfied with my relationship with L. I feel like punching my hands throught the thin papers of time and shaking the then-me...telling her to stop being a fucking zombie and start really examining the importance of life. But I suppose that happened in time, of its own accord.

Posted at 12:49 AM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

People who clearly don't get it.

September 25, 2003

I have a whole blog entry in my head read to post about a sort of feigned innocence people certainly must have with regard to racial prejudice, white privilege, and how the system operates. I'm being HOPEFUL when I say it's feigned innocence, because the alternate conclusion I would draw from something like this is outright aggressive ignorance, stupidity, and hatred.

If I could talk to the ~~idiots~~ students responsible for this bake sale, I would send them over to Ms. Lauren's blog where they might get themselves educated a bit better on the topic of how, exactly, privilege works, and how oversimplifying such a serious and far-reaching (backwards and forwards) topic such as affirmative action in this way is insulting to me, and I would hope to anyone who actually considers the gross fallacy in the way these students are attempting to express their "logic."

Oh, shit...it's happened more than once. How fucked up is that?

About that post I'm writing in my head - about what it is to be white, and all that. I'll have to get to that a little later, but there's tons out there right now for the reading, in case you are interested. Yeah, I realize I'm late to add my voice, and it will probably be postponed for awhile longer yet, but...um...I've been busy, and I put it off feeling like I've had this conversation before...but I realize it's important to keep having the conversation over and over again. (was going to insert links there to countless posts on this subject, but class is about to start, so maybe I'll go back to it later...or better yet, perhaps I should recategorize the freaking blog so it's easier to find these things.)

Posted at 5:13 PM • Comments (11) • TrackBack

One More Thing I'm Freaking Out About

September 25, 2003

in a milder way, but still, it crosses my mind a couple of times a day. I have been asked to contribute to a new blog (I've mentioned the name before, but I don't want to mention it in this post for reasons that might become apparent) and, while I know that what I have to say is important, and while I desire to participate and contribute, I feel as if my opinions will not be valued there - that I will be, as they say, kicking against the pricks. And the pricks I'm kicking against don't necessarily consider themselves pricks to be kicked against.

Mostly, I feel that my style of writing doesn't mesh with what is currently being offered there, and I have the impression that rather than accepting a diversity of voices, as the mission claims they do, they will begrudgingly grant me mine, just as they begrudgingly are "allowing me" to write under my pseudonym, which I've been told might cause people to take me less seriously. Something about the communications from the editor of this blog to the contributors doesn't sit well with me. There's so much talk about raising the hit count and link whoring, and, while I understand that getting a lot of hits is desirable when spreading a message, I'm still turned off by this strategic sort of approach.

I am also not really fond of the way this blog is set up, and find myself not interested in reading it myself. It's too complicated for me to navigate - there's almost TOO MUCH content for me, yet the editor is always crowing about wanting more more more content.

So the battle in my brain that's going on is do I overlook all of these misgivings about the blog to deliver a message that I think is important for people to read? I don't know. I pretty strongly believe that personality and free admittance of bias is the most effective means of communication, and this blog seems to go out of its way to eradicate personality and attempt to present an "objective" view - when it's clear there's no such thing as objectivity. To me, this blog just mirrors mainstream media in that regard, and, in so doing, doesn't really offer anything different.

I dunno. I guess I should just follow my gut and withdraw from the contributor's list. I have so many other projects that I actually feel enthusiastic about...that are more in line with what I want to give my energy to. I might try posting one article, seeing how that feels, and then withdrawing if it makes me feel all slimy like I think it's going to.

Yeah. That's what I'll do. Thanks for listening to me hash that one out. hahaha.

Posted at 12:39 PM • Comments (7) • TrackBack

Things I am freaking out about right now:

September 25, 2003

I'm trying to keep it under control, but here is the short list of stuff I'm freaking out about right now:

The fact that I really just don't want to go to work tonight, but I really don't want to stay home, either - due to the fact that I don't want to deal with another night of passive agressive parenting.
The fact that Monk's glasses were misplaced a week ago, and that Monk needs his glasses to see, and that i have turned this house upside down looking for them and can't find them AND that those glasses were actually loaner glasses in expensive frames that were graciously loaned to us while our cheap frames were on order. So, basically, if I can't find them soon (and I feel like today is the deadline, since Monk's glasses are basically a medical prescription to keep him from going blind in one eye) I will have to pay for the expensive frames AND pay for a new pair of glasses.
The fact that taking care of the above is somehow COMPLETELY my responsibility - the entire thing - the worrying, the talking to the glasses place and the financing of the new glasses. All my deal.
The fact that suddenly my children need to be bribed with candy to get them to eat a decent meal. The fact that no matter what I cook for them, all they want to eat is fruit and bread. The fact that this wouldn't matter to me if I didn't have a certain person holding a magnifying glass up to me whenever this certain person comes into the home to watch the children. The fact that I even need to feel freaked out about what the kids are eating when, really, I feel like they are capable of balancing things out on their own. You know what? FUCK this freak out item. I'm eliminating it. As of tomorrow, the children can eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for every meal if they damn well feel like it. This is just extra stress weight that I don't need, and I certainly don't need to be giving it to my kids. Especially since Mr. Critical-of-everything-I-feed-them has fed them nothing but macaroni and cheese for the past few weeks.

That's the short list. I'm going to sit here for a minute. I'm going to inhale. I'm going to exhale. Then I'm going to call the glasses place and explain what's going on and see what we can work out. After that, I'm going to give the kids the freaking lollipops I promised them whether or not they finish the food on their plates, and I'm going to continue on with my day with the kind of peace of mind that comes from dealing with this shit head on instead of letting it fester in my brain.

Posted at 12:00 PM • Comments (9) • TrackBack

Upgrading RSS

September 25, 2003

I've upgraded my RSS template (I don't even know if that's the right way to say that.) It was enough to hear it from Jason, but then George had to say something too, so I gave it a shot. I hope I didn't break anything. Someone's going to have to teach me about having an RSS feed reader. I have no clue what it's all about, I'm almost ashamed to admit. I think it might be important for me to learn if I'm going to be teaching that blogging class in a month or so.

Posted at 9:21 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Ahhhhh.

September 24, 2003

I did take the night off from work and, in spite of every effort on a certain person's part to foil my plan of getting some rest, I was able to take a sizable nap. I feel much better having rested, and I had a good session with my therapist today, even though I was late, due to the tardiness of the aforementioned unmentionable certain person.

I have discovered some things in therapy that are interesting. I'm sure I will discover many more. For one thing, today, I rediscovered an idea that I figured out long ago: Punk Rock Saved My Life. Watch for a post forthcoming - basically about how I have spent my entire life creating families for myself to compensate for the fact that I never really got the things I needed from my actual family.

I've also discovered that I have this weird tendency to feel defensive about my mother whenever my therapist tells me that my childhood left a lot to be desired. I think I've mentioned here before that I'm aware of a problem I've had throughout my life where I have sought out relationships with people with fucked up childhoods - and that I've consciously thought about how I do this with the intent of minimizing my own difficulties with my childhood.

I also like the way my therapist strips down my explanations of the ways in which I've been hurt by people. The fact that she was able to describe my sister's actions towards me as being about "her getting what she wants without regard to what it does to other people" really clarified how this quality in my sister is also present in my mother, as well as other people I have been in relationships with. It also explains why I feel so anxious about figuring out the difference between selfishness and martyrdom, and why I have gone through this whole process of defining selfLESSness...I really feel that getting what one wants is not necessarily a problem. I'm frequently accused of being the kind of person who gets what I want. I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing, provided I'm not getting what I want at someone else's expense. But with my history, it can be very easy for someone to put me totally on the defensive by calling me selfish. Calling me selfish calls all of my actions into question and basically turns me into a quivering un-self-confident mass of goo.

My biggest fear is being like my mother and my sister. They have hurt me a great deal, and I don't want to hurt my children or my friends the way they have hurt me. Yet their interactions with me line the foundation of my being. They're like the cockroach shit I am sweeping up in my house - a seemingly never-ending supply of it exists in my house, and it feels like I will never be rid of it, even now that the exterminator has come to rid me of the roaches themselves.

OK, bad analogy. So, now my focus is on not REACTING to my fear of treating my kids like I was treated (which is, basically, like I was a burden to be hefted or an obstacle to be hurdled, rather than a soul to be nurtured). I spend a lot of time trying to weigh my feelings of panic about something the children are doing against my personal boundaries. If that makes sense. It dulls my reaction time, and makes it difficult for me to set consistent and reliable limits. I'm constantly having to consciously consider my reactions to the children and decide whether they are within my self-defined scope of acceptability. In other words, I find that I HAVE to think about everything I say to the children, and when I DON'T - like if I let myself just react - I end up saying things that I think are inappropriate. I'm sure this happens to everyone, but it can throw me off for an entire day into a loop of, well, shaming myself...for being imperfect.

So, the solution is, I think, to understand where this comes from (I think it comes from a feeling on my part that if I am conscious of wrong-doings on the part of my family members, then I am just as bad as they are if I am anything less than perfect towards my children) and to breathe that in and let it go at the moment that I am feeling bad about myself. Because it can spiral out of control. Not like child abuse out of control - more like SELF abuse out of control.

I'm not sure if this makes sense to anyone but me. I love that line in one of the Spearhead songs that goes "It's never too late to start the day over." because that's what I do when I have a particularly bad string of interactions with the children. I just up and ask that we just start the day over, and try to move in a more positive direction from there.

It's a process. I'm learning. We're all learning. Today it hit me as we (my therapist and I) were talking about protecting the children - maybe I'm just as crazy as everyone else in my family (there seems to be a lot of mental illness in my family, as well as in L's family, which is frightening). She said "I don't think you are crazy, but you frequently seem confused." Confused. Isn't that funny? I guess it's true. I'm forever confused about my responsibility to other people, and when it is appropriate to express certain things, and when it's best to just keep quiet. Confused is probably the best word. It clarifies a lot of things for me to be called confused.

ha. ha. ha.

Posted at 10:03 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Duh!

September 24, 2003

I've been sitting here silently freaking out about all of the stuff I have to accomplish and how little time I have in which to accomplish it, all the while forgetting that I have a babysitting exchange with a neighbor that I haven't really taken advantage of, and that I've honored my end of. Until the person with whom I'm exchanging reminded me.

Sometimes I totally forget that there is help for me when I need it. It's ridiculous. I mean, I really don't even think that there are alternate ways to get things accomplished.

So, now it appears I merely have to feed the kids and send them off to the playground for a couple of hours while I clean, and gather items to be returned to the various places they have been borrowed from, and maybe even kick back and relax for a little while. I have a therapy session this afternoon, and I'm considering taking the night off from work so I can get a decent amount of r&r so I don't feel like crap again tomorrow morning.

Posted at 11:37 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Really trying to refrain from commenting

September 24, 2003

on the fact that George Bush seems, most definitely, to be on the defensive about his putrid little war. I've seen him on the news a few times, and he seems to feverishly be defending his version of reality that only the wealthy elite seem to share. I think he's sweating it. I think he's having a difficult time convincing HIMSELF that he's doing the right thing. I think he realizes how very very badly things are going for him. And I really think he is vulnerable. I think he can be defeated in the upcoming election.

The question is, what do I think about his potential replacements?

Sigh.

Don't even ask me that right now...I'm working on having a stress-free morning.

One thing I will say is that Dean's campaign managers need to stop sending me e-mails begging for money.

Posted at 10:57 AM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Shake

September 23, 2003

I have this friend named Shake. She used to live here in Austin. In fact, she was once my neighbor. She was the childless friend that all mamas dream of - a welcome reprieve from parent-talk on long walks without the kids, and also available to babysit when needed. Among other nice things about her.

One of those "other nice things" was that Shake liked to leave presents on my doorstep. I used to laugh and tell her she was like a cat leaving a dead bird, as she was eternally decluttering her home and leaving her clutter on my doorstep with a note and no knock. Don't get me wrong...it was good clutter. It was like if I cat would bring slabs of marinated tofu in tupperware containers instead of beheaded bluejays and eviscerated geckos.

So, today, I got a small envelope from Ms. Shake. Inside was this book, and a note that said someone had given the book to her when she broke up with her boyfriend, and now it was her turn to pass it on to me...she also said she wished she could have left it on my doorstep. Shake lives in Portland now, so she's no longer my neighbor. And I miss her.

Thanks Shake. The book looks really funny. I'm already smiling.

Posted at 11:35 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Another Good Day

September 23, 2003

I've had that thing where I feel like crap first thing in the morning. Both yesterday and today, I woke up thinking that surely I will have to call in sick to work and stay home snuggled in my lavendery bed all evening. But as the day progresses, I feel progressively better. Still, if I feel bad tomorrow morning, I AM going to call in sick to work and take care of myself. The sucky part is that L will be there with the kids, and I probably won't get much peace. It will be nice when he has a place of his own to take the kids when he's watching them. I'm thinking when that happens, I'm going to take an entire week off from work just to hang out and luxuriate in alone-at-home time.

At any rate, I started feeling better not too long after I first woke up, and the kids were snooping around the house searching for all of the little presents I left out for them to celebrate the change of seasons. It was mostly books and curriculum stuff, but I find that they enjoy finding the little gifts throughout the day, so I hide it all. I discovered last night that the Kiki soundtrack that I ordered for Coley was all in Japanese, and did not contain the "Soaring" song that he loves so much, so I obtained a...um...perfectly legal download of it and he was delighted when I played it for him. Delighted is the perfect word for his expression, too - his cute little face just LIT UP and he smiled and smiled as I played the song (and "I'm gonna fly") over and over again. I'm so glad that I was able to pull that one off.

So we spent some time finding things, and then I read about the Equinox from Circle Round, and read the story of how Mabon was set free by King Arthur's soldiers. Monk gets all antsy about reading these stories, which is weird because he really enjoys folk tales and mythology. I really think he gets antsy because he knows I enjoy them. Anyway, I had to tell him that the story ended with someone getting their head chopped off to convince him to listen. It was true - someone DID get their head chopped off - but it's kind of a drag that I have to bribe him with violence to get him to listen to a really cool story.

At any rate, we talked about the equinox and how, for us in Texas, it's even a bit of a rebirth for us to pass into fall - because summer is SO hot here, and we spend so much of it holed up indoors. We are all looking for the relief of cool weather. I told Monk that I woke up in the middle of the night last night and had to scooch Coley off of the blanket so I could go under it because it was a little nippy. I love that! I love nippy! Give me nippy...give me downright fucking uncomfortably cold...let my nostrils freeze together any old day of the week over this stifling, unbearable heat!

Um, where was I? Oh, yes. After our storytime, we were going to take a nature walk, but it was a bit too hot (sigh) and we didn't have much time anyway, so Monk chose to play Reader Rabbit 2nd Grade while I set about cleaning up and making lunch. I made Peanut Butter Noodles, thinking the kids would love love love them (I mean, had my mom ever made peanut butter noodles when I was a kid, I would have loved it, wouldn't you?) but the little farts turned their noses up...so they basically ate fruit for lunch. Which seemed to satisfy them, but still...peanut butter noodles! I mean, come ON!

Anyway, after lunch we headed over to R's house from Monk's new Tuesday homeschool co-op craft day. I was able to DROP HIM OFF there (rah!) and I headed over to k8's house with Cole to see if playgroup was happening there. It wasn't, but it was nice to see, hug, chat with k8 for a bit before she/we headed out in opposite directions.

Then Cole and I went home and Cole played reader rabbit 2nd grade for a little while. Have I mentioned that Cole now knows how to use a mouse and can do just about anything he wants on the computer? It's so cool! Only, once he's ON the computer, it's impossible to get him to stop.

Unless the computer crashes, which it did, so I took the opportunity to bring him back to R's house to pick up Monk. I got to talk to the other moms in the co-op, too (the co-op is the perfect size - like 6 or 7 families and most of the kids are older, so there's not really a need for all of the parents to be there.) R seemed to do an excellent job of leading them through an activity, and I was impressed with the pastel drawing Monk made of 2 wild things (they read Where The Wild Things Are). It was cool! So, this week, monk has WRITTEN (which he previously refused to do) and DONE ARTWORK (which he is notorious for shunning). What next?

Brought the boys home after that, and we only were there for a few minutes when L showed up, so I packed up my stuff and headed out for the bus stop. Yesterday, I stepped on my freaking headphones and broke them, so I had to stop off to get new headphones (headphones are, in fact, an essential item for the mile-long hike from my house to the bus stop and back). When I walked into the Walgreens, the woman in the cosmetics department was all smiles - "hello! Welcome to Walgreens! How are you?" I answered "I'm doing great! How are you?" Her smile faded and she said "I'm tired and I can't WAIT to go home." This was the funniest thing I had heard all day...maybe you had to be there, but the transformation from sunny greeter woman to get-me-out-of-this-hellhole disgruntled employee was fantastic. I laughed...and she laughed, too. I said "I hope you get to go home soon!" and laughed again.

Got my headphones, got my bus, got to work, and here I am. yippee!!!

When I get home, I'm going to have to write about the cute book I got in the mail from a friend of mine, and tell a story about this friend, as well...but I can't remember the name of the book, so it will have to wait.

Hope yr having a good day!

Posted at 5:30 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Radical Homeschool Blog

September 23, 2003

Just to let you know, Michelle has finished the design of the radhomeschoolblog, and it's EXCELLENT. But I just need to find like 3 or 4 spare hours to set up accounts and otherwise prepare to launch. Did I mention that I'm way too busy lately? I'm hoping to take care of rad homeschoolers before the end of the weekend. Last call (for now) for anyone who wants to contribute.

Posted at 2:18 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Autumnal Equinox

September 23, 2003

Gateway to Winter
The Autumnal Equinox marks the beginning of shorter days and longer nights. We gather with friends to strengthen our spirits in preparation for the passage into Winter. But it is a time of thanksgiving, for on the other side of that dark Winter is Spring.[source]

Somehow, autumn seems to be the perfect time of year for my personal revolution. I've always been a fan of naturally-occuring metaphor. The kids have new paints and used books, I have a whole new life to look forward to. It's all about renewal, isn't it? The trees shed their leaves to stay alive during winter. It's the gentlest kind of survival instinct.

More Equinox Sites:

The Electronic Sky

Mabon

wikipedia

Posted at 9:59 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Bring Them Home

September 22, 2003

The Guerillas of the Week on GNN are those brave soldiers who are not only risking life and limb by being in Iraq to defend the interests of the wealthy, but are also actively speaking out against this war.

Which reminds me that there is a rally, demonstration, and protest coming up here in Austin that is geared towards putting an end to the occupation, and sending our troops home now. I only have 6 more days to convince Monk to go with me. Someone give me helpful hints. I'm considering bribery. With ice cream.

Posted at 11:57 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

The Mama's Calendar

September 22, 2003

Coleen is soliciting submissions and orders for the annual Mama's Calendar:

submissions are desired, right now, for the 2004 edition of a mama's calendar. this calendar is of, about and for mamas & mama enthusiasts everywhere. what I'm looking for: all sorts of photographs of mothers, babies, children, fathers, friends & other family members. what catches my eye are photos that include nursing, pregnant bellies, birth, social justice work in action, photobooth strips, celebrations, kids making music, mamas rocking out, newborns, toddlers, big kids, teenagers, radical grandparents, and so on. I also seek cartoons, drawings, great mama quotes, recipes, links to mama community resources, and information about mama-made zines. the hard as nails deadline is november 20. prints of photographs are preferred; they'll look so much better on the calendar pages than digitals. if you are limited to sending photos via email, they need to be black and white and high resolution. email me for further details: mamascalendar@bust.com your submissions will be appreciated, celebrated, possibly published in the calendar, and definitely returned to you if you enclose a self-addressed, stamped envelope. should your submissions be published, your reward will be the awe of mamas and mama enthusiasts worldwide. thank you.
meanwhile: it's not too early to order your mama's calendar! it will hang on your wall and inspire and delight you for 12 full months of the year 2004. if you order right away, you will get it before december 20, 2003. send $14 (that's $12 for a calendar and $2 for mailing costs) to me to reserve your copy. if I do not recieve enough orders to pay for printing costs, I will refund your money in december.

if you enjoyed the hip mama community calendars of 2001 & 2002, then this is your sort of thing, because I made those, too.

Posted at 11:48 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

My Personal Revolution

September 22, 2003

By order of the militant guerilla internal warrior that is me, I decree that the soundtrack to this revolution will be Michael Franti's "Everyone Deserves Music."

Particularly this song:

Yes I Will

I received, the letter, that you wrote me
On a dark, cold and cloudy day
Remindin' me, on the side of the road
You find the light, you'll find a friend,
You'll find a way
But today I'm feelin' all broke down
I ain't got the faintest clue, 'bout what to do
Can't comprehend the situation at hand
So I try my best, just to get back home to you

(chorus)
Gonna keep on walking now
Yes I will
Gonne keep on talkin' loud
Yes I will
Gonna keep on singin' bout it
Yes I will
Gonna keep on ringin' out
Yes I will

I believe, that what you sing to the clouds
Will rain upon you when your sun, has gone away
And I believe, that what you dream to the moon
Will manifext, before you rest, another day
So stay strong, and sleep long when you need to
Let the mornin' take you right on through the day
When you find you're at the end of the road
You just lift your head up
Spread your wings and fly away

(chorus)

When you're lost and alone
That's when the rainbow comes
When you're lost and alone
That's when the rainbow comes for you

Posted at 11:10 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Wow. What a great day.

September 22, 2003

We really had an excellent day at the Blood household. The morning brought inspiration and an unexpected hour of writing time, which normally would cause the entire day to crumble around us, but I managed to force myself out of my chair mid-inspiration and drag us all out to the grocery store where we got a collosal amount of groceries for what seemed like a very small amount of money. Well, ok, it was a lot of money, but less than I thought it would be.

We came home and I put the groceries up while the kids watched Power Puff Girls as the last hoorah of the television (seeing as I FORGOT to put it up last night after staying up ridiculously late watching Planes, Trains, and Automobiles) and then I made a simple lunch, like sandwiches or something, and sat down and wrote my version of The Rules that you see below this post. Which was fun to write.

I did some cleaning up while Monk played Civilizations, I played legos with Cole. We saw a lizard on the door and I stopped everything so we could sit and watch her move around, and then Me and Coley drew pictures of the lizard and wrote a little story about her.

Then Monk and I sat down and did a crossword puzzle of mathematical measurement terms. HE WROTE ALL OF THE WORDS HIMSELF (this is HUGE!) and I sat with him almost the entire time, getting up only to check on Cole, who is thankfully now able to entertain himself by playing sesame street preschool on the computer. I actually spent a full hour focused on one or the other of them, really working on my level of patience and being in the moment with them to enjoy their hard effort. Monk was kicking so much ass at writing, at one point I shouted out "YOU DID IT!" and scared the living shit out of him. We both laughed about it. He liked doing the units of measurement crossword so much that he did ANOTHER crossword all on his own. I am so proud of him.

By the time that was all said and done, it was time for me to get ready for work. I took a shower, got dressed, got my shit together, and had a lovely walk to the bus stop, serenaded by Mr. Franti.

And now here I am at work, and it looks like it's going to be a relatively easy night, so I'll be able to get some of my extra projects handled and I can feel a little less like I'm totally falling behind.

Which reminds me, I should probably change my shirt and talk to my students. Woo woo!

Posted at 5:52 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Navigating the Crass Commercialism of Singledom: DruBlood's 15 steps towards freedom from unwedded angst

September 22, 2003

"The sell us love as divinity, when it's only a social obscenity. Underneath, we're all lovable." -Crass

Step One: Kill your television. If those talk show hosts and stupid book authors knew what they were talking about, they wouldn't be totally hung up on bilking money from you.

Step Two: Forget about "mining past relationships" for all the things you did wrong. Instead, mine yourself. You ARE a goldmine. A diamond mine, even. Figure out what you do well, and enjoy yourself.

Step Three: As much as possible, smile at everyone. Sincerely. Smile. Enjoy how that makes YOU feel.

Step Four: Cherish your imperfections. A wise woman once told me that anyone who loves you should view your imperfections as a thrilling challenge rather than an annoying obstacle.

Step Five: Take a walk by yourself in silence. Listen.

Step Six: Take a walk with a friend in silence. Listen

Step Seven: Know that you are inherently good, and that any mistakes you have made were not made with the intention of hurting others, but with either no forethought at all, with misguided intention, or with misinterpreted intentions.

Step Seven: Know that everyone who might have hurt you is inherently good, and that any mistakes they have made were not made with the intention of hurting you, but with either no forethough at all, with misguided intention, or with misinterpreted intention.

Step Eight: Use public transportation frequently. Talk to the other passengers.

Step Nine: Know that at any given moment, there is, more than likely, someone thinking fondly of you.

Step Ten: Pause in your day to think fondly of others - tell people that you have been thinking of them. Don't be afraid to tell people you love them. You might be the one person who is able to convince them that they are lovable.

Step Eleven: Take yourself out on a picnic, then lay in the grass in the middle of a field and stare at the clouds.

Step Twelve: Fall in love with everyone you meet. Write them love poems.

Step Thirteen: There's no such thing as bad luck or good luck. Know the difference between mindfulness and self-consciousness. UPDATED TO ADD: Also truly come to understand the difference between intention and pretention.

Step Fourteen: Know that no one person will ever be able to fulfill all of your needs and desires. We are interdependent creatures. Stop looking for "the perfect" one for you, and start appreciating all that you already have. (See Step Two)

Step Fifteen: Throw away all of those stupid self-help books. Fire your therapist. You know what's inside of you - stop filtering your instincts through the words of other people. Disregard anything anyone ever tells you that you don't fully believe in.

_______

Biography: DruBlood is neither a therapist nor a graduate of any doctoral program relating to marketing or relationships. She's just an ordinary human being who has the silly notion that love and companionship are basic human needs that naturally arise out of honest interactions between people. Her motto is "Why pay for advice, when hacks like me will give it to you for free?"

Posted at 9:20 AM • Comments (7) • TrackBack

WTF?

September 22, 2003

Free love? As if love is anything but free. Man has bought brains, but all the millions in the world have failed to buy love. - Emma Goldman "Marriage and Love."

Boy, I sure am glad that there are people out there who are still plugging away at the concept that women need to "position themselves" on the "dating market" - particularly after we reach that difficult, undatable age of 35, when certainly no man in his right mind would fall for an unpolished "product."

It's a good thing this woman found something to do with her degree from Harvard business school. After all, she found her man! Isn't that what pretending to be smart is all about? Goal accomplished, now she can inform the rest of us losers how to get our portfolios in shape.

I just don't know what I would have done with myself had I not seen this ~~book advertised~~ woman interviewed on The Today Show. But, I can't talk about it now. I need to find a sitter for the kids so I can read the paper at Starbucks in hopes of finding the perfect man. Wait, but first I have to do some market research, some "repackaging" of "my product"...and, oh yeah, I have to find someone who will do an exit interview with my husband to find out why our marriage didn't work out, so I can retool for my future long-term relationships, which will surely be based entirely on substance, rather than surface impressions.

Yr damn right I "bristle" when I hear the words product, strategic plans, and marketing applied to me and my "dating efforts." And it's not because I fear a "radical" new approach. It's because I'm a FUCKING HUMAN BEING. And there are enough fucking products and strategic plans out there without me turning my fucking life over to some idiot business expert who wants to commodify the experience of love and companionship. It's a sad, sad state of affairs when this kind of thing is taken seriously enough to warrant a 15-minute, earnest discussion on national television without someone even once perhaps suggesting that it's even the slightest bit CRASS.

(I REALLY should have put the TV up last night.)

Posted at 8:52 AM • Comments (6) • TrackBack

The Church of Michael Franti

September 21, 2003

Is what he should call it. None of this Spearhead stuff. What an excellent performer that man is. Truly the best show of the evening last night, possibly one of the best 45 minute performances I've ever witnessed. The man had us touching the ground, touching each other, and was bouncing around on stage ordering directives like an insane peacenik aerobics instructor. He was amazing. His whole band was amazing.

And he helped me resolve the whole issue about whether to buy any White Stripes CDs. Like hell I will - all of my music spending money will be going towards investing in Mr. Franti's music. Sincerely. Power to the Peaceful, indeed.

I think I'm getting ahead of myself, though. The whole day was...perfect. Really. With no sun to be seen, and the weather a slightly warmer than room temperature, but with tiny occasional sprinkles of rain that only once crossed over into anything resembling a shower, there could not have been a better day to stand, sit, lay, walk around outside, listen to live music, and enjoy the company of long lost friend(s) returned.

The only thing was that all of the bands sounded the same to me. For the first half of the day, I kind of just walked around listening to the same southern-tinged rock. Which is fine for maybe one band, but really not my cup of tea for eleventy-hundred bands. The Johnny Cash Tribute was great, but I wish they had played more of the Cash ACL session and less of the eleventy-hundred countrified rock bands who all sound the same.

I think the pattern broke when I sat down to hear Bright Eyes. I couldn't see anything, although I spent half of that show staring in the direction of the stage. I liked his quivering voice, the spooky sound of whatever the hell instrument he was playing, and I told my cohort, mr. "upup", that I was thankful to not hear the omnipresent guitar in there. The guitar showed up eventually, but I did not hear it for 2 or 3 songs, and it was a very nice break, indeed.

After Bright Eyes, we witnessed the brilliance of Nickel Creek. I love this band. They could sell a bazillion records and have three hundred videos on MTV and I would still love this band. They just look like they are having so much fun when they are on stage, and they rock. They do. Fuck if I know how a fiddle, a mandolin, an acoustic guitar and a stand up bass can pull off the kind of rock and roll energy that they do, but it's true. They do. Rock.

But I had to cut short my enjoyment of Nickel Creek to wind my way through the maze of people and lead the way up as far as we could to the front of the stage to see Spearhead. I was so thrilled that there wasn't a thronging, impenatrable crowd (do those words sound somewhat sexy together, or is that just pre-coffee me?) and we were able to stand where we had a good view of the stage. And we waited.

I was so fucking thrilled. You can't even believe. Anticipation is a good thing. I could not have even imagined how spectacular this show was going to be.

The band came on - with Michael in his "One Term" shirt. They just got us all in the mood. In the moment and in