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« June 2005 | Main | August 2005 »
Little things that bring joy.
July 31, 2005
Just cause it's 11:15 PM and I am making soup, and Pansy and I spent the better part of the evening talking about being grateful. A short list, in no particular order:
- At this moment, right now, if I wanted to...I could go run to the store and pick up a forgotten ingredient or a soda pop, because there are NO CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE.
- The new neighbors have moved in to the rental house across the street, and they are cute punk rock boys and girls.
- My haircut makes me happy.
- Pansy and I painted the ceiling in the back room and had a fuck of a lot of fun doing it.
- I had a great weekend practically all to myself, and I enjoyed almost every minute of it completely and tomorrow morning my kids will be back and we get to start the whole week all over again.
- I am facilitating a meeting tomorrow to introduce all of the people I work with to the person who is going to manage our web redesign project, and I am actually really psyched about working with the company we chose.
- Work, in general lately, has been really exciting and rewarding.
- Making East African Sweet Pea Soup while listening to Camper Van Beethoven at 11 PM is actually a really great way to round out my weekend.*
I hope you had an excellent weekend...
*I should add that EATING east African Sweet Pea Soup while listening to Sly and the Family Stone will be an excellent way to ring in the new day.
Maude, I am such a fucking nerd. Hahahaha.
Relationship Rambling
July 31, 2005
Lately, I have to force myself to stay asleep on days that I don't have anything pressing going on. There's some sort of inertia that grips me at 7 AM that wants to pull me out of bed and get me started, even when I know I have an entire day leisurely yawning before me and more sleep would probably be A Good Thing. Today, I managed to stave off waking until 8:30 or so. Now I'm Awake. I'm blasting music, and it feels good.
I tried last night, between cleaning closets and the boys' room, to write an essay about monogamy, relationships, love and stuff...because that's what's been on my mind lately, what with there being no conceivable way that the divorce will be postponed AGAIN & the big day being Next Friday. I read through some posts that I wrote on this topic* shortly before and shortly after L and I broke up, and, just for grins, I read over some posts about abusive relationships* that I wrote while reading an amazing book** that someone sent me anonymously really helped me through a lot of the hard stuff. And I had this article in mind, because I know I have a lot to say about so-called "emotional fidelity" and how the article seemed like a bullshit way to keep women in line while "boys are being boys" and not taking responsibility for the emotional upkeep in the relationship. And I wanted to write about that stuff, but I kept hitting a wall. Mostly because I'm reaching a point in my current relationship where a lot of this stuff is rearing its ugly head in a very different way than it did in my relationship with L, but in a noticable way nonetheless. I still haven't, however, sorted through exactly what of the current shit is mine to own, and what is J's...so I don't feel like I'm ready to deconstruct the current relationship in those terms exactly. Not to mention that I am still (wholeheartedly) In my current relationship, as there is much in this relationship to celebrate, in addition to the minor and major tweaking that needs to be done to either make it mutually healthier or, you know, mutually over.
I'm rambling. Bear with me. I just poured my first cup of coffee of the day and you are getting The Raw Deal (if not A Raw Deal.)
So, rather than focus on the Current Relationship in that context, I have something Else on my mind that I think is illustrated by this inertia I seem to have to get up and at the world way earlier than I might even feel like I want to. That is, I really fucking Love Life. I do. And what I am having a difficult time understanding is why I seem to attract people who do not love life. I'm like a freaking bug lamp for depressed people. And I don't get that. It's actually mostly in my romantic relationships that I seem to have this dynamic and, yeah, I know the psychology of that. I'm not dumb. I know my dad was depressive and he disappeared and evidently I'm trying to recreate that relationship and getting some sort of validation out of re-enacting it time and time again, but you'd think I would be put in a position every once in awhile to actually REJECT people who love life for the role of romantic partner...but I don't think I have. Or maybe I am just so good at avoiding those people that they don't even get close enough to attempt to get involved with me.
I have to clarify, I really Love Life AND I'm prone to bouts of cynicism, sarcasm, and supreme whining. So it's not like I run around flinging fucking daisies in my wake whereever I go, and I certainly don't expect that kind of behavior from a romantic partner or friend, either. Sometimes it seems like the more I love life, the more pissed off I get about the extremes people go to to destroy life. So I get that anger and cynicism is often Part of the Package of loving life. Perhaps it's that the people I get involved with lose sight of that? Perhaps it's a shift of focus, of definition? Maybe depressive people really do love life, but they don't get that their depression is a rebellion against external forces that are trying to fuck with that beauty?
I dunno. All I know is that I keep finding myself in relationships where I feel chained (however prettily) by my partner's limitations. Like, I'm looking outside the window, thinking HOLY FUCKING SHIT, it's never-ending beauty, and they are looking out the same window and thinking It's not beauty, it's wholly fucking shit***.
I don't seem to have these problems in my friendships. And perhaps that's because it's easier for me to drop friends who aren't compatible with me...or that I'm more free to choose the context in which I relate to my friends, whereas a romantic partner is more of an all-contexts all the time kind of thing.
What I do know is that I now know enough about myself to be dangerous. I know that I have a center of love for life, and that I'm not really willing to compromise that to a great extent. I know that anyone who wants to have a central role in my life must at least have a CRUSH on life. I know that I CAN'T GIVE THAT LOVE TO PEOPLE - I am not the conduit to life...I'm just another one of its expressions.
But I also have to wonder...is it really so rare to love life? Am I just assuming too much of people? Is there a way for me to coexist with someone who is so chained without myself feeling trapped and grounded? Or does my tendency towards chronic bliss necessitate that I Just Not Get Romantically Involved With Anyone, or perhaps inform my reservations about monogamy (i.e. in this context, chaining myself to one depressed person.)
I don't know the answers to these questions, but I would really like to hear what other people think, and this processing is where comments were always helpful to me (as well as, I like to think, random stray people passing by)...so if you have anything enlightening to say on this subject please feel free to email me. I haven't been very good about putting the emails I have been getting on the blog, but if you tell me specifically that you want your comment posted, I will attempt to do that in a timely manner. Or, if you want to keep it private, also let me know.
*There are many links on this site that do not work properly, so I am having to link entire categories. Scroll down for the pertinent posts.
**If that person is out there reading this blog, I want to hug you forever.
***This actually reminds me of a Nick Cave song that always made me just want to slap him and hug him at the same time, because while it's entirely frustrating to listen to, it also somewhat describes the situations I tend to find myself in. And, while I don't necessarily relate to the "she" in the song, I get a sense that the "he" in the song is somewhat sadistically using his cynicism as a means of torture:
As I sat sadly by her side
At the window, through the glass
She stroked a kitten in her lap
And we watched the world as it fell past
Softly she spoke these words to me
And with brand new eyes, open wide
We pressed our faces to the glass
As I sat sadly by her side
She said, "Father, mother, sister, brother,
Uncle, aunt, nephew, niece,
Soldier, sailor, physician, labourer,
Actor, scientist, mechanic, priest
Earth and moon and sun and stars
Planets and comets with tails blazing
All are there forever falling
Falling lovely and amazing"
Then she smiled and turned to me
And waited for me to reply
Her hair was falling down her shoulders
As I sat sadly by her side
As I sat sadly by her side
The kitten she did gently pass
Over to me and again we pressed
Our different faces to the glass
"That may be very well", I said
"But watch the one falling in the street
See him gesture to his neighbours
See him trampled beneath their feet
All outward motion connects to nothing
For each is concerned with their immediate need
Witness the man reaching up from the gutter
See the other one stumbling on who can not see"
With trembling hand I turned toward her
And pushed the hair out of her eyes
The kitten jumped back to her lap
As I sat sadly by her side
Then she drew the curtains down
And said, "When will you ever learn
That what happens there beyond the glass
Is simply none of your concern?
God has given you but one heart
You are not a home for the hearts of your brothers
And God does not care for your benevolence
Anymore than he cares for the lack of it in others
Nor does he care for you to sit
At windows in judgement of the world He created
While sorrows pile up around you
Ugly, useless and over-inflated"
At which she turned her head away
Great tears leaping from her eyes
I could not wipe the smile from my face
As I sat sadly by her side
HAIRCUT
July 30, 2005
Short?
Check
Sassy?
Check
Cute?
(you decide)
Click to make them dartboard size!
Good Angles, Nice Accessories
Do We Like It?
Yes, We Do!
Note: Yes, that is me wearing lipstick. Haircuts make me feel all girly.
How Ironic
July 30, 2005
It's ironic that this article popped up on my MSN splash page, because I was/am cooking up a post later about monogamy, intimacy, and other fun stuff. I'm putting it here as a placeholder and a reminder.
Right now, though, I need to go get a long-awaited haircut. I'm playing hairdresser roullette, and I'm hoping whoever I get can satisfy my request for something short, cute, and sassy.
Wish me luck!
Music Meme responses
July 30, 2005
Zwichenzug and Matt have both responded to the music meme, and their responses have made me think a bit about how I'm wired...which pretty much goes along with the thinking I've been doing that will no doubt spawn numerous posts this weekend.
At any rate, Zwichenzug has divided the music-listening world into two neat little categories: Those Who Listen To Lyrics, and Those Who Do Not Listen To Lyrics. I mentioned in his comments that I am perplexed by Those Who Do Not & some elucidations were offered, but I am no less perplexed. (See my post later about wanting to be inside someone else's head for 5 seconds so I can experience what it is they are trying to explain to me) Not that there's anything WRONG with Those Who Do Not, either. After Zwichenzug made that comment, I looked back at my answers to the meme, and realized that I mentioned the lyrics of almost every single song that meant anything to me, and I guess I wonder if that concept is as foreign to Those Who Do Not as their music listening propensities are to me.
At any rate...
Matt's response about the "music that changed your life" question threw me, as well. He said
There are a good number of songs which mean a lot to me, and some which actually move me to the point of giving me goosebumps, but none that have really 'changed my life.' This may be because I typically won't be able to relate to a song until I'm already at the mental/emotional point of view that it's expressing. Make sense?
And, yes, it does make sense. Totally. But my experience of music is that I frequently run across concepts in the lyrics (there I go with the lyrics again!) that cause me to want to do more research and learn what on earth they are talking about. I mean, even when I know A LITTLE about what the musicians are discussing, I still get inspired to learn more when people are singing in earnest about it. Maybe it has more to do with the type of (propaganda) music I tend to listen to. But, I mean, from Howard Jones inspiring me to learn more about Buddhism when I was in 8th grade to Smart Went Crazy setting me off on a Bayard Rustin Reading Spree a couple of months ago...it seems like I'm always being expanded by the music I listen to.
So, cool. I'm glad I got such interesting responses from people who have such a totally different experience of music from me.
Weekend Visitation.
July 30, 2005
As mentioned in the post below, I had a not-so-fun adventure with the kids yesterday at the dentist's office. And it's really too bad, too, because the dentist seemed like a really nice person. She and her assistant were awesome with the kiddos, but Coley was just not having ANY of it.
Actually, Coley stopped having any of it early in the day. It was a day of "no" and utter obstinance from him. Fridays, I think, are difficult in general because they have to wake up a lot earlier than usual...but Coley was just on my last nerve, jumping and rolling around and, at certain points, trying to bite right through it ALL. DAY. LONG.
Granted, this behavior was probably fed by my impatience of it in a vicious loop...but by the end of the day, I was fried and they were no less obnoxious. When it got to be about an hour before their papa was scheduled to pick them up, I was all but clawing the walls, trying to escape.
Monk, the little fart, picked up on this. In the midst of doing something obnoxious simply because he knew it would get on my nerves, he totally snapped to the fact that I was LOOKING FORWARD to them leaving. He said "You are really going to enjoy this weekend while we are gone, aren't you mom?"
I burst out laughing. "Yes, Monk...as a matter of fact I think I am. Don't get me wrong - I love you guys a whole lot, but mama needs a break from you, and I am looking forward to getting it."
We both laughed about it.
A few minutes later, Monk (the little fart) started up the annoying/obnoxious behavior again (while Cole was lying on the floor naked, defying my 5 millionth demand that he GET. DRESSED. NOW. PAPA. WILL. BE. HERE. SOON. (please.)) I poked him in the side "Quit that, Monk!"
"Mom," he said, "I'm only doing this because I don't want you to miss us while you are gone."
"Oh, I'll still miss you," I replied. "I just would rather enjoy your company while you are here, as well."
Fuck if it isn't 8:46 Saturday morning, and I already wish they were here with me.
Where's the Dad?
July 30, 2005
I don't mean that in a "How Dare She Be A Single Mama" way. I mean it in a "If there is a male parental figure in or associated with this family, why isn't he being charged with neglect ALSO or INSTEAD OF the mom?" way.
It seems to me, carting 6 children to a medical appointment is more an issue of impossible logistics than necessarily one of bad parenting.
Fuck, I took TWO kids to a dental appointment yesterday, and I was totally shoved over the end of my wits by one of them in the process.
[thanks to snake haired girl for the link]
Goals
July 30, 2005
I've been doing a bunch of reading about goal setting and, you know, the Covey stuff - Circle of Influence, Circle of Concern...yada yada. And along with this, I've been having some discussions with friends of mine about how they discover what they want in life, and how they figure out how to get what they want.
Some people I know...well, one person I know very well and care about a great deal...is struggling with figuring out what he really wants out of life. We had a long discussion the other day, and in that discussion, he admitted that he just doesn't know what he wants or desires out of life. I immediately asked him "How can you not know?" And he replied "How can you know?"
So, I wrote this in response, in a way, and it's obvious that it was heavily influenced by all of this stuff I'm reading, but in a positive way.
***************
How can I know? How are my desires formed & where did I learn to articulate them? How did I figure it out? Is it that I'm just not afraid to express them? Is it because I accept the impermanence of desire and, knowing that change is invitable, I therefore am able to define and express what I want without fearing change? I think partly at least it is because I know myself well & I understand my limits and can separate achievable desire from unobtainable fantasy.
What DO I want? There are many categories & it's a long list.
Here's what I have in my life currently that is consistent with my desires. Things I want to keep:
- An excellent community
- Lots of love
- Opportunities for intellectual enrichment
- Creative outlets
- Time to play
- A nice place to live that is SAFE
- Relative harmony in my immediate family
- Good food & people to share it with
- A good job doing something fulfilling & where I am appreciated for my strengths
- Strong, wise women in abundance
- A few good men
Here's what I could use more of:
- More financial, emotional, and logistical help with raising the kids; either in the form of a romantic partner or a housemate. (I call this #1)
- Closure in the divorce and a better relationship with the children's father (much of this is out of my control, so what I need to do is set myself up so I am satisfied that I do everything within my control to cultivate this.)
- More movement - time to exercise & get involved with ACTIVE activities
- A more aesthetically appealing home
- More travel
Of couse, #1 is the simplest way to achieve many of these things, but until I am able to find someone(s) to fill the shoes of #1, the trick is findnig the time to do it on my own or with the resources I currently possess and the people currently in my life.
So, my immediate (within the next 6 months) goals are to find a way to incorporate more movement into my life - more exercise, and to create a more aesthetically appealing environment in my home. I do, to some degree, have the power to improve my financial situation on my own, but I might have to sacrifice those two goals for that one, in addition to some other important desires that are already being fulfilled (such as a strong community - it is hard enough to maintain close friendships with people with the amount I currently work.) Perhaps the controllable variable in my financial situation is keeping up with the budget and staying on top of my spending and saving.
There are a couple of simple things I can do to achieve some of these goals:
- Maintain the budget
- Call the mortgage company and ask for a deferment of one or two payments
- Get the divorce over with ASAP
- Have a large yard sale and get rid of everything not useful or beautiful.
- Continue to walk every day with the children
- Submit appliation for financial assistance at the Y
- Ask someone to cover childcare for an hour or so after I return home from work so I can take a brisk walk or work out at the gym
- Make it a priority to work out every day teh kids are at their dad's
- Make sure Pansy is cool with the schedule & make sure she is getting enough time to do her stuff and ensure she gets enough time to herself.
- Keep looking for a housemate or partner
- Travel with J. Let him figure his shit out. Be honest and upfront about how his shit effects me. Don't shy away from confrontation, don't avoid discussion and DON'T TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR SOMEONE ELSE'S SHIT.
- Continue to contribute at work to keep my job stable
- Offer to teach 2-3 freelance classes a month
- Find reliable childcare substitutes
- Be a reliable childcare provider.
- Write Daily
- Live Fully
- Love Completely
- Be Mindful.
"Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it" -Maya Angelou
I'm the last person on earth to get hipped to Spamusement, I know.
July 30, 2005
Spamusement! Poorly-drawn cartoons inspired by actual spam subject lines!
But I'm hip now, and I love this one:
(Click to make it bigger)
The spam subject reads "How To Live Without Fear In America"
That Clinches it...
July 29, 2005
Due to a recent foray into The homeschooling filter on The Truth Laid Bear, I am officially going to work towards reviving the radical homeschool blog.
Clearly the topic of home education needs a little more balance in the blog world.
I just need to fix a thing'er'two over there, and encourage everyone to start posting again. If you would like an account, email me and let me know.
Mail Call
July 29, 2005
I just got a letter from my friend Raymond, because I'm hoping to visit him when I am in NM this month. He directed me to some of his artwork online.
Last week, I got the latest King Cat in the mail from John P. I was sad to read that his father has passed away. The issue was touching, and I wish I could hug him.
When we got the letter from Raymond and I told the kids we were going to get to see him in New Mexico, Monk said "I wish John P lived in New Mexico." Monk really likes John P & King Cat. It's cool that my friends can be heroes for my kids. Coley is drawing pictures for John right now in hopes of lifting his spirits a bit. I am certain he will appreciate them.
If you haven't read King Cat yet, I highly recommend it. John is so talented, and has such a gentle voice. I really do hope Monk gets to meet him some day.
Friday Random Ten - Version My Phone Works, Now Call me, Damnit.
July 29, 2005
Load all your mp3s into your player of choice, hit random and list the first ten to play. If you’re feeling sinister, exercise the coolness audit. Now, my pretties, leave yours in the comments or on your own site.
The list:
- Sex Pistols - God Save the Queen
- The English Beat - Hands Off...She's Mine
- William S. Burroughs - The Last Words of Dutch Schultz (This is Insane)
- Sneaker Pimps - Roll On
- Abba - Eagle
- Modern English - I Melt With You
- Air - Highschool Lover (Theme from "The Virgin Suicides")
- Billie Holiday - I Cover the Waterfront
- Afghan Wigs - Lost in the Supermarket (clash cover)
- Jawbreaker - Want (lyrics below the fold)
(if someone wants to "coolness audit" that for me, let me know. I have no idea what's cool and what's not, because I'm just a big old nerd.)
The Lyrics:
Want (or, one of the two best punk rock love songs, the other being "Chesterfield King," also by Jawbreaker)
by Jawbreaker
been staring for a hundred hours
run down a spiral drain
keep mouth clamped tight, and it isn't right
three words keep running round my mind
but my tongue is hard to find
i need to let it go, because i know
dark secrets burn their vessel
tearing out to grab a mouthful
chunk of heart destroyed by quiet
yell it out before it kills you now
let it all out
i want you...
used to let rumors do my work
they got around real well
now they only hurt, it's a liar's quirk
this time i gotta say it straight
i mean to do some good
i'm calling out your name, while the chance remains
i want you...
so now you know where i come from
my secret's come undone
my heart revealed my cause
i'm lying naked at your feet
don't crush the heart that bleeds
take me at my word, it may sound absurd but
i want you...
My Take on the Dove "Real Beauty" campaign
July 29, 2005
As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing at all revolutionary about this stupid advertising campaign*.
All they are fucking doing is pretending like they are telling me my fat body is attractive, while reaching around, grabbing my fat ass, and saying "But, you know, you really need to use our FIRMING CREAM."
Dude. The whole POINT of accepting my fat body is accepting that it's NOT FUCKING FIRM.
It's funny. Cecily's post about the OK Soda campaign sort of triggered this. OK Soda's shtick was advertising something mediocre to the "irony" set. Dove is now advertising body hatred to the "empowerment" set.
Nice try. I'm not buying it.
*I just re-read this, and thought to myself "Why the fuck would anyone expect an ADVERTISING CAMPAIGN to be revolutionary, anyway?"
Today's vocabulary lesson brought to you by Rad Geek
July 29, 2005
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to sift through my archives and make sure I have applied the term consistently in my arguments.
Did you feel that? That LOUD exhale?
July 28, 2005
That was just me, breathing. Because, you know...payday.
It has been a rough month, financially speaking. But it is over. And the bank let it end on a high note by reversing an overdraft fee because I (stupidly) forgot to deposit my cell phone reimbursement on time.
So, yeah. I can breathe now. A little.
Homeschooling for the revolution
July 28, 2005
The author of this article about homeschoolers and their motivations somewhat misses the point:
Though the number of homeschoolers in our country is growing at a noteworthy pace, I believe it is a mistake to refer to homeschooling as a “revolution” or “movement.” A movement implies that the group is collectively organized for the purpose of pursuing a commonly-held agenda. Many non-homeschoolers who seek to understand homeschooling choose to describe homeschooling in this language.
A number of us are homeschooling for some of the reasons listed in the article AND, additionally, because we feel that the homeschooling lifestyle allows us to better prepare our kids to BE revolutionaries.
Lyrics from my soundtrack
July 28, 2005
One last post before I pry my ass from the chair and force these unruly children (who are at this moment listening to a Lemony Snicket book on tape and crowing over the French word for shit) to come on a walk with me.
I'm just gonna close my eyes for a second
Beauty Pill
Into the abyss high beams on
After the severance pay is gone
Where do you plan to hide?
I was the seeing eye dog
That left your side
I'm just gonna close my eyes for a second
I'm just gonna close my eyes
Entreaties, invective, forget it
God loves a graceful exit
I say "risk" and you say "caused"
You choose "trapped" and I guess I choose
I choose lost
I'm just gonna close my eyes for a second
I'm just gonna close my eyes.
HA!
July 28, 2005
Cincinnati CityBeat : 07/27/2005 : Estrangement in a Strange Land
The Museum of Inferior People: Today, many white heterosexual Christians in America are confused. They know they're better than everyone else, but by exactly how much? The Museum of Inferior People seeks to put an end to this uncertainty with a wealth of sacred documents, powerful exhibits and blinding graphics. Here you'll learn exactly where every religion, race, nationality and worldview rates behind yours -- individually or in complex combination. Is a gay Hindu living in the U.S on a green card more or less inferior to you than a liberal black Muslim who's a citizen of France? Can a lesbian Asian claim moral superiority over a bisexual gypsy atheist? Now you'll know!
[link via rox]
Gender and Our Kids.
July 28, 2005
If you aren't reading Rober Arjet's blog every day like I told you to do, you are missing out on some great posts.
The latest series is about heterosexual privilege, and a "cross-dressing" 7 year old:
Bark/Bite: Hetero Privilege
Bark/Bite: Clothing Transgressions
Excellent points are raised by Robert and Redneck Mama. I'm interested in hearing different ways in which these types of situations are parented through.
I tend to be fairly straightforward with my kids about such things. I would like to think that I wouldn't balk at letting one of my kids take a trip to the grocery store with me wearing a dress, but considering I feel like a bad mommy when my 4 year old insists on wearing his shirt inside out and backwards, I guess I can't really say for sure.
Right. Fucking. On.
July 28, 2005
Pinko Feminist Hellcat: Stop telling us what we don't want to hear, you America-hating commie!
We're not doing that because it was never about national security. Bush and his cronies have left a trail of slander and fear-mongering a mile wide and deep. Between Dick "Chicken Little" Cheney's dire prediction that a Kerry victory would get us attacked by terrorists, to the lies that Iraq had WMD and posed an imminent threat, to the right-wing's accusations of anti-Americanism to anyone who didn't pucker up and kiss Bush's feet, to Rove's catty hissy fit over the weakness of Democrats in the face of terror, it's obvious that it was never about freedom. It was never about security.
Not to mention, I mean...isn't the outing of a CIA agent by a government official a sort of implied threat to other agents? Sort of like "Find the information that supports our cause, or fuck you."
Jury Duty
July 28, 2005
You really have to read Uff's post about her stint as a member of a Kansas Jury.
Thanks for starting my morning off right, woman!
I am so freaking psyched.
July 27, 2005
It looks like the project I mentioned in a previous post is really going to happen. I've been freecycling tiles like a madwoman, and we now have almost enough to tile the entire floor. I just created a new blog at fullbleed dot net to house our musings and progress reports, and my partner and I are going to have a painting party this weekend and plan the project.
We are looking for someone who might be interested in handling the technical aspects of the project, like creating and maintaining the site templates and whatnot. If pressed, we will, erm, do it ourselves...but it would be nice to hand that part of things over to someone else.
Also, any donations for our initial painting project will be graciously accepted. I'd like to rent a paint sprayer just for the experience, but I hesitate to spend the 80 bux unless I have some way to defray that. We also could use some financial help with domain name registration and, possibly, to pay someone to do the templates for the site. Also, if anyone wants to do a logo design for us for t-shirts, mugs, and, oh, maybe HAMMERS or something zany, please let me know.
E-mail me or paypal me if you think you can help.
Blah. Sick Day Chat anyone?
July 27, 2005
I'm lgbdozer on Aim, or you can go to the fullbleed chatroom here:
Seriously. I am too blah-sick to do anything around here but sit and stare at the screen...and believe it or not I do not feel like playing The Sims. Please rescue me from feeling obligated to do housework.
While I'm Home Sick From Work, I might as well catch up on my memes.
July 27, 2005
ex-lion tamer: ten i'm actually listening to...Like I said, though, it's pretty much a steady dose of Decemberists, Smart Went Crazy, and Beauty Pill around here. But I will give this a try off the top of my head:
- Decemberists - Legionaire's Song (I think that's what it's called
- Public Enemy - Son of a Bush
- The Strike - You can forget it
- Jawbreaker - Want
- Nickel Creek - The Lighthouse
- Shonen Knife - Konnichiwa
- The Clash - Magnificent Seven
- Fugazi - bulldog Front
- Jets To Brazil - Little Light
- Decemberists - July! July! (My children have informed me that we will not be allowed to listen to this song when July is over with.)
Fuck MATH. Parenting is hard.
July 27, 2005
There are some issues with the 8/9 year old set here in our little community that are cropping up and causing us to have to do some really serious talking and communicating in order to mediate appropriately. The issues are fairly standard, and revolve around bullying with words and with physical aggression. The trick is to not validate either behavior while also empathizing with the situations that tend to lead up to one or the other. If that makes any sense.
Pansy says it's almost like we have our own little jock/nerd microcosm on our hands. What's cool is we are able to examine this in the petri dish that is our small community, and we might even be able to guide our little "jock" and our little "nerd" towards a cure. If we are consistent, persistent, and caring towards both/all of them.
It's challenging, and it's valuable, but DAMN it's hard work. It's funny how parts of me leap up to defend the behavior of the non-biological children in my care at certain intervals, and at other intervals to defend the behavior of my biological children. It's testing all of my faculties of fully listening before responding (which I am NOTORIOUSLY bad at doing) and I feel like I'm making tremendous progress.
One of the main issues is the signal to noise ratio. There's a lot of "Well, he does [insert behavior that tends to instigate aggression.]" and then, on the other side there's "and he does [insert behavior that tends to instigate verbal pestering.]" and it's a total chicken and egg situation that, if we actually tried to sit down and SOLVE would lead us absolutely nowhere. The point is NOT to determine who is at fault. The point is to attempt to throw fault away entirely and learn to define and respect and stand up for one anothers' boundaries. It boils down to teaching the kids how to clearly say NO as well as to clearly HONOR no.
While I do believe that all people are inherent good, I don't believe that the language and behavior that is necessary for positive communication is necessarily innate. There is much we adults, much less our children are learning and still need to learn about effectively communicating with one another without drowning one or the other out. The lesson for this month, I think, is "I" language. It's coming to an adult and asking for help in dealing with a situation. The difference between "tattling" and consulting is the word "I." Rather than "he did this" and "she did that" it's "I'm having a difficult time in this situation, and I need some help figuring out how to handle myself."
Fuck. What I'm saying here, in an ironic twist of corporate-speak, is "Everything I know about child-rearing, I learned from business fucking communications classes."
My first question to Pansy today when I called her to see if we could work this stuff out was "Is this worth it to you?"
My heart soared when she said, basically, "Hell yeah."
My kids could not have better grown-ups and youngsters in their lives to challenge them and to learn with them. They are loved, they are safe, and they are held accountable. I'm so thankful that I can talk to Pansy without either of us feeling the need to defend or fearing offending one another with our measured, considerate honesty.
We need to write a fucking book. But right now...I'm just tired. I have a headache from having to think too much, and I'm going to make my kids some lunch...then lay down and take a nap.
Anti-Capitalist Thought For The Day.
July 27, 2005
One of the biggest issues these anti-immigrant groups have with migrant workers is the effect they have on wages. The laborer is guilty of no crime other than wishing to work for a living, possibly to support a family and survive, and an employer is exploiting him or her. This employer is operating in a system by which profit is made and success is measured in how little you can pay your workers. If the corporations don’t have undocumented workers to exploit, they will find somebody else to screw out of a buck, or send the work overseas.These groups also level the accusation that by using our hospitals and clinics migrants drive up the cost of health care for everyone else. Again, the idea of motivating a medical system with the ultimate goal of profit over people, is a flawed one. The migrants are committing no infraction more condemnable than attempting to make their life better and the big pharma and medical companies are the ones exploiting people and making huge wads of cash doing it.
source
answering my own meme
July 27, 2005
Number of records/tapes/cds I own: I guess around 250 CDs, 300 lps, and numerous cassettes that I refuse to get rid of even though I rarely listen to them. I also have a bunch of 7"s. I really need to get my turntable to work properly.
First record/tape/cd I bought
: It was either The Clash's self-titled debut (on cassette) or it was Howard Jones' Human's Lib.
Last record/tape/cd I bought: I picked up a copy of Spearhead's Chocolate Supa Highway at Half Price Books about a month ago. Earlier this month, in a fit of panic about the lack of Gil Scott Heron in my record collectionI ordered (but then subsequently canceled the order) a bunch of his stuff, as well as The Last Poets. That's definitely next on my list.
Last record/tape/cd I listened to
: The Decemberists Castaways and Cutouts just REFUSES to leave any of my music listening devices. I try to break the habit, but the minute we enter the car, the children (whether they are biologically mine or not) are shouting "July! July!" please. Every once in awhile I temper it with some Smart Went Crazy, Fugazi, Jawbreaker, Mission of Burma, Beauty Pill, and Minutement...which are also on that MP3 disk in the car.
Recordings or songs that mean a lot to me (and/or changed my life): I'm going to list a few on the "changed my life" theme in no particular order.
- The Clash - London Calling: While babysitting, the baby was asleep, and I found this record with its bright red warning label. I copied down ALL of the lyrics (by hand) in my notebook. The rest is history, because punk rock saved my life.
- Howard Jones - Human's Lib: Hooked by "New Song" I bought this album with my babysitting money, and spent the better part of my 8th grade year analyzing the Buddhist-influenced lyrics with my mom.
- Chumbawamba - Pictures of Starving Children Sell Records: I remember where I was when I first heard this record, and a yearning to listen to it again is what caused me to start this meme. I had listened to political punk before hearing this, but this was by far the most radical record I had heard (and understood the lyrics to (see below) yet.)
- Flux of Pink Indians - The Fucking Pricks Treat us Like Cunts: I first heard this on "Fast And Loud," which was (is?) the hardcore show on Northwestern University's college radio station. It's basically a bunch of noise with yelling, but what I discovered later is that they are yelling all sorts of revolutionary shit. I was excited by the noise and the earnestness with which things that I did not fully understand were being shouted at me. I remember being a Sophomore at a school dance, and being asked to dance by the senior cutey boy that everyone loved. I thought I was the shit because I said something about hearing Flux of Pink Indians on Fast and Loud, and cutey boy pulled away and said, admiringly, "You listen to fast and loud?"
- Cat Stevens - His songs from Harold and Maude, in particular: One night, around the time I was getting ready to move out of my mom's house, a bunch of my friends and I were playing on the playscape at a park in the suburbs of Chicago, and we all spontaneously started singing "Father and Son" by Cat Stevens. It was definitely a movie moment.
- Rites of Spring - self-titled LP: I had this record for months before I was able to listen to it, and had practically memorized the lyrics before I ever put a needle to the vinyl (my phonograph was broken). Those boys can sing, but they can also EMOTE.
- Nick Cave - "In The Ghetto": Hearing this song on college radio on a rainy morning while I was waiting for my ride to pick me up spawned a love affair with Nick Cave that continues to this day. I actually once wrote and never sent a fan letter to Nick Cave. Perhaps if I ever blog drunk I will share it with you. I doubt it, though.
- Spearhead - Everyone Deserves Music and Stay Human: I bought these after seeing them LIVE at the Austin City Limits festival, which was my first not-really-a-date-but-precursor-to-dating with John. They rocked, they turned me around at a time when I really needed to be turned around. The Beatnig's LP should be on this list, too...but I don't want to get totally out of control here.
If I had to choose a soundtrack of my life, what 5-10 songs would be on it: With the disclaimer that this list would probably look completely different if I wrote it next week...
- The Ex - Mother
- Dog Faced Hermans - Viva
- Camper Van Beethoven - Flowers
- Camper Van Beethoven - Life is Grand
- Rites of Spring - Patience
- Cat Stevens - If you want to sing out, sing out (I was going to type "hard headed woman," but thought better of it.)
- Bjork - Army of Me
- Modest Mouse - Third Planet
- Beauty Pill - I'm just gonna close my eyes for a second
- Handsome Family - Drunk By Noon (because sometimes I DO "flap my arms like a hummingbird, just to remind myself I'll never fly" although I DON'T "burn my arms with cigarettes, just to pretend I won't scream when I die" and I am almost certainly never actually drunk by noon.) oh, and...DUH!
- The Decemberists - July! July!
Now you go. Or my feelings will be hurt.
Music Meme (ripped off from the book meme)
July 27, 2005
OK, here's the deal. Answer these questions on yr blog and link back to this post so I know you've answered them...or send me your answers via email and I will try to post them (damn, I hate this "not having comments" crap!)
Number of records/tapes/cds I own
First record/tape/cd I bought
Last record/tape/cd I bought
Last record/tape/cd I listened to
Recordings or songs that mean a lot to me (and/or changed my life)
If I had to choose a soundtrack of my life, what 5-10 songs would be on it
I'll post my answers in the morning. I need to get some sleep.
Blog Crushes
July 26, 2005
Is there a word for when you discover a blog, or you finally really "see" a blog you've been casually visiting once in awhile, and you suddenly feel like you MUST READ ALL OF THE ARCHIVED POSTS?
Well, OK. Here are two blogs that I have recently (re)discovered, and I just want to sit down and have coffee with the authors and find out every little thing about them. So get your asses to Austin and humor me, damnit.
Badgerings has only been around since May, but a cursory glimpse of the front page shows that this person has wit, style and a fucking humongous amount of intelligence.
I feel guilty crushing on Zwichenzug because, well, I really only started seriously reading it after that awfully nice post about my blog. But now that I have scanned the archives, I'm thinking "Why the fuck haven't I been reading this blog from the beginning?"
Both of these blogs are from honest-to-goodness, real-life, college edumacated folks, which we know is generally taboo around here. But I simply can't resist smart asses who think humans are basically good, even if they tend to express themselves in sentences heavily laden with polysyllabic words. And Zwichenzug at least attempts to improve my vocabulary with his frequent "word of the day" type post thingies.
So, yeah...thanks Badger and Rowland. Good, good, yummy good stuff. Keep it up!
In Other Words
July 26, 2005
Badger has a few thoughts on parsing the propaganda.
Excellent post. Word by word.
Wanted..."Dumb" Jokes
July 26, 2005
Evidently, I'm in need of some laughs, because I am obsessively returning to David Rowland's Zwichenzug: The return of dumb joke blogging post in hopes that I will see more so-called dumb jokes.
Can someone please comment over there with some good "dumb" jokes so I can justify my obsessive clicky-finger?
The Teenage Nephew Mix
July 26, 2005
I just slapped together this little mix for my teenage nephew who is into punk rock:
- Screeching Weasel - Punk Rock Explained
- Jawbreaker - Driven
- Ramones - California Sun
- Screeching Weasel - Supermarket Fantasy
- Reel Big Fish - Boys Don't Cry
- Screeching Weasel - Blitzkreig Bop
- Rites of Spring - In Silence/Words away
- Kathleen Hanna - Mr. Magazine Man
- The English Beat - Hands Off...She's Mine
- Screeching Weasel - I Was a High School Psychopath
- Fugazi - Waiting Room
- Fugazi - Shut The Door
- Sex Pistols - Pretty Vacant
- Dead Milkmen - Nutrition
- Buzzcocks - I Don't Mind
- Jawbreaker - Sluttering
- Bikini Kill - Rah! Rah! Replica
- Bikini Kill - New Radio
- The Donnas - You've Got a Crush on Me
- Operation Ivy - Bombshell
- The Donnas - Who Invited You?
- Sex Pistols - Anarchy in the UK
- Screeching Weasel - I Wrote Holden Caulfield
- Fugazi - Repeater
- Screeching Weasel - Dingbat
- Fugazi - Epic Problem
- Screeching Weasel - Stupid Over You
- Rites of Spring - Nudes
- Buzzcocks - All Over You
- English Beat - End of the Party
In Fact, My Bumper Sticker for the last 3-4 posts would read:
July 26, 2005
"I'm sorry, I would oppose the War on Terror, BUT now that it's called "The Global Struggle Against Violent Extremism" I suppose "Collatoral Death" is "Justified" (in the name of "Justice," no less.)"
So? Yes? Should I cafe press it?
We're all going to need bigger bumpers.
July 26, 2005
New Name for 'War on Terror' Reflects Wider U.S. Campaign - New York Times
In recent speeches and news conferences, Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld and the nation's senior military officer have spoken of "a global struggle against violent extremism" rather than "the global war on terror," which had been the catchphrase of choice. Administration officials say that phrase may have outlived its usefulness, because it focused attention solely, and incorrectly, on the military campaign.
Perhaps this is an insidious republican plot to boost lagging SUV sales. I mean, when we start retooling our slogans to be LONGER rather than shorter, um.
I guess, though, that I might somehow be able to convince myself that I am AGAINST war, but somehow FOR "a global struggle." Without having my head COMPLETELY explode, anyway.
This link was brought to you by Prometheus 6, who also had a very interesting post (which hosts some enlightening comments) about redefining things.
There's not even a sorry attached to this but.
July 26, 2005
'Why Did They Force My Son Into the Water?'
After that time, the body was taken to the American hospital in Najaf for a post-mortem examination. Ahmed's family are angry that they were not informed. The Army says that it acted in the interest of justice.
Emphasis added by me.
The reason why I oppose all war. ALL war. Is it throws people into a totally fucked up state of mind where they have to make decisions about life and death - going against their inherent goodness - and shit like this happens. Shit like this and the killing of an innocent person in London. Shit like this, and the cavalier attitude we are supposed to have towards the dead and injured "on the other side" in Iraq.
People are not meant to be this disconnected from each other. I can't believe it is anything but completely traumatizing to be responsible for so much death. And I look at my fellow humans who are seemingly so unaffected by the death that surrounds them, and I wonder how damaged we are as a nation. And then I think about places like Iraq, and it's no wonder we've all gone fucking insane.
Just like the word "but" should never follow an apology, the word "justice" should never follow a death.
BUT?
July 26, 2005
"We are all desperately sorry for the death of an innocent person and I understand entirely the feelings of the young man's family, but we also have to understand the police are doing their job in very, very difficult circumstances,"
I heard this pseudo apology from Blair, and I wanted to slap someone. BUT? What the fuck? You don't say "I'm sorry that we killed your son/brother/cousin/uncle/neighbor, BUT" anything. I don't give a fuck about security. Just find a different fucking moment to defend the fucking police officer or, much worse, the stupid fucking "shoot to kill" policy the police officer was following when an innocent person was gunned down for no fucking reason.
And more BUTS:
Foreign Secretary Jack Straw defended the so-called "shoot-to-kill" policy adopted by police for dealing with suspected suicide bombers.He said he "deeply regretted" the killing of an innocent man. But Mr Straw said it was essential that police were able to deal effectively with the threat of a suicide attack.
Fucking fucking fucking ghouls. You know? Let the family have a really fucking apology. Is it that fucking hard to keep politics out of one fucking sentence.
"Desperately sorry" MY Butt.
How cool
July 25, 2005
How cool is it to click, click, click through a couple of websites (no search engine required) and find a bunch of punk rock flyers my friends and I designed in the '80's:
.P.o.P. .|. Antique Show Flyers .|. page 2
But, please..."antique?" As if I don't feel freaking old enough already! hahaha.
Anything with "oyster" on it was made (by ripping of other people's artwork, mostly) by me. There are collaborations (oystervirus, blau oystermeyer or whatever) which are even cooler. There are some that aren't labeled that are mine, too...including my favorite show of all time and my favorite image of all time.
This is definitely my find of the week.
Relative to the Below, the Above, and the Beyond
July 25, 2005
This quote from Manhattan Transfer sums things up rather nicely:
Everything would be so much better if suddenly a bell rang and everybody told everybody else honestly what they did about it, how they lived, how they loved. It's hiding things makes them putrefy. By God it's horrible. As if life wasn't difficult enough without that." -John Dos Passos
This Old Motherfucking House.
July 25, 2005
So...tell me. How many of you would pay to read a journal of a novice repairperson learning how to renovate a house with high quality on the cheap using as many recycled/freecycled materials as possible?
I figure...I have the house that needs the work. I have experienced friends who are volunteering to do the work. I need a little bit of money to start the work, but I can write and I can manage a website and maybe I can find sponsors for each project and post the results of the project and the step-by-step directions on the site?
We're starting with painting a ceiling and walls, and tiling a floor. I think we're actually going to use new paint for that part of it, but we're getting all scrap/used tile for the floors, and we can probably throw in some bits about how to do mosaics and stuff like that. Other projects will include replacing a toilet, patching foundation, planting some gardens, pulling up giant tree-like weeds, retiling a kitchen floor, more painting, scraping that fucking popcorn crap off of a ceiling...umm...ummm...and much much more.
Anyone interested in sponsoring that project? It'll probably cost about $200-$300 total. Plus if someone wants to volunteer to make a template for the website, that would be cool.
(also, is this an absolutely ridiculous idea, or am I on to something here?)
The Real Enemy.
July 25, 2005
I found this excellent article, America the Beautiful, through anarchist 6 [zero] 6, which I found through the anarchist blog aggregator/portal thingy.
Here's a small quote from the article:
America is not threatened by any external forces or fanatical groups, but by lying, cheating, stealing, killing, hypocritical, arrogant Americans whose enormous wealth is only exceeded by their insatiable greed and their indifference to the plight of the people.This small minority of Americans are the main enemy of the great majority of the American people as well as the enemy of the traditions, laws and spirit of America, our beautiful America — and the world at large.
Really, what does false bravado accomplish?
July 25, 2005
I Am Fucking Terrified dot com
9. Terrorists cause terror. That's why they're called terrorists. If they didn't cause terror, they'd be called something else - like 'annoyingists'. Saying that you're afraid doesn't mean that the terrorists have "won".10. Some of us - whisper it - are not terribly brave.
link via randomwalks.
Tired.
July 24, 2005
It's been a good weekend, and I am so very tired right now. I usually try to get a couple of good hours to myself after the kids go to bed, but I might just spend those couple of hours in my newly-made bed (sprinkled with lavender) getting some well-deserved rest.
Today was cleaning and playing with the kiddos and then I picked up Susan and we scored a LOT of freecycled tile that I'm going to be using to refloor a room of my house. I actually think I almost have enough tile to do the whole room from freecycle alone. One woman basically gave me an entire bathroom's worth of tile. Most of it is really neutral, too, so I think I might shop around for bits of colored tile at the Habitat For Humanity ReStore so we can truly mosaicize things up a bit in there. Next weekend, I am tackling the ceiling, either by hand or by machine. The ceilings throughout this house are made with that crappy "popcorn" stuff, and they are the biggest pain in the ass to paint...so I might resort to a sprayer or something. I am hoping that by the end of August, the room will be ready & I can either find a roommate or figure out something fun that I can do with the space.
Anyway, I kicked ass with the tile loading, as did Susan. I had to crack the big sheets in half to get them to fit into the van & we managed to get it all loaded up right before a huge rainstorm hit.
We headed back to my house and kicked ass in the kitchen and cooked up some bean and kale minestra & cornbread. That shit is FUCKING delicious. And it was nice to have a guest for dinner, while the kids did their goofy kid stuff and Susan and I attempted to have an adult conversation in, around, and over them. But then we had ice cream and it got kinda late, so I drove Susan home and came back and ordered the children to bed so I could snatch a few minutes of alone time before I wrote this post.
And now I'm going to wrap up the leftovers and trip off to bed. Nighty night.
Cole on Dreams
July 24, 2005
Coley and I were just having a conversation about dreams. He was telling me that he only has bad dreams, and the only good dream he has had was "half good, half bad" and involved our dog and twelve tongues and he thought she was attacking him, but she was only licking him.
At any rate, thinking that he was presenting me with a problem that needed to be solved, I started in with the whole positive visualization thang. I said "Why don't we think of something happy that you can dream tonight. If you could think of one thing that you would LIKE to dream about, what would it be?"
Coley pulled away from me to look me in the eyes (I had been holding him close, against my chest) and said "But, mom, I LIKE scary dreams. Scary dreams make it more funner to go to sleep."
(This conclusion resembles Monk's observation when, at the age of three, he went through the elementary school haunted house at Halloween. "Mom!" He said, eyes wide, "Sometimes scary FUN!")
A request - Teen Mentoring/Time management/Goal setting resources
July 24, 2005
Hey everyone,
I'm trying to put together some training for the teenage interns where I work. I would like to use resources geared towards goal setting, time management, study habits, and other helpful information. Due to the nature of our program, I kind of have to stick with the theme of professional development.
I'm reading _The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens_ and finding it to be socio-culturally insensitive. While I do find merit in the idea of proactivity, I don't think the Covey folks accurately (or fairly) represent the challenges the people of color and/or low-income families face. I am looking for books that will not make my interns feel bad about their parents' financial difficulties, among other things. (I got so mad at the seven habits book that I nearly flung it across the room, but it still has some valuable information in it, even though it was written by a privileged, bigoted asshole.)
If any of you are aware of such a book, please let me know. If any of you would like to help me write curriculum on a volunteer basis...also let me know!
Comments are down, so Email me if you have any suggestions.
Thanks!
Out of My Comfort Zone
July 23, 2005
I have decided to get over my fear of playing chess (seriously! I don't know why, but I just FEAR strategy games) I am allowing Monk to teach me how to play. Clearly, I have learned something in my 35 years of avoidance, because it was fairly easy for me to remember how all of the pieces move.
The thing is, I am never ever going to win a game against Monk. The kid is insanely...Well, he's pretty fucking smart. But not only that, he seems to have his entire chess strategy book MEMORIZED, in spite of the fact that he has not played chess (in my presence, anyway) in about a year. I would move a piece, and he would be all "A-HA! You are trying to do (some elaborate multi-move strategy)...but I'm not going to fall for it!) & I would be all "I was? OH...YEAH! I WAS! You are ON TO ME! Rats!"
heh.
Anyway, he kicked my ass once, and that was enough for my first lesson.
Um, Connect Four, anyone?
We are obsessed with the Decemberists
July 22, 2005
I'm glad my children have chosen such a richly literary and historically interesting band as their first shared favorite.
I really want to take the kids to see them live in September at La Zona Rosa.
Friday Random Ten.
July 22, 2005
- Operation Ivy - Smiling
- A Tribe Called Quest - Stressed Out
- Fugazi - Strangelight
- Sex Pistols - Anarchy
- Atom and His Package - Black Metal Friends
- Ultra Nate - Twisted
- Prince - You Don't Have to be Rich
- Prince - I Wanna Be Your Lover
- A Tribe Called Quest - Like It Like That
- 10,000 Maniacs - City of Angels
Morning.
July 21, 2005
We all rolled sleepily out of bed. "Monk, please make sure you let your dog out" I command.
We all heard the door creak open to the backyard, and shut. And then we heard it creak open and shut again - too soon to have allowed for the chaining of the Dog Who Runs Away.
Monk comes back through the kitchen, giggling.
"I forgot the dog."
And the water rolls down the drain...
July 20, 2005
This post might ramble a bit. I swear I have a point to make, but my mind is cluttered with all of these seemingly disconnected thoughts that are begging to be juxtaposed. Kind of like Park City, Utah and Angel Fire, New Mexico - two cities I had never heard of, but then all of a sudden when they became important places to friends and family - I started hearing about them. Or maybe it's like the day that I kept seeing people who were missing limbs. I saw about ten people with amputated arms or legs in a span of a week, and I kept searching (selfishly, as if amputees exist for my own edification) for the significance of this coincidence.
At any rate, here are the thoughts that are running through my head, in semi-bulleted form. Perhaps in writing them out, I will form the connection:
- Monk is suddenly really into Hinduism. I mean, REALLY. I thought he was just fucking with me, but we started reading The Complete Idiot's Guide to Hinduism which is not for kids but was the closest thing I could get that wouldn't be too condescending or too heady, and he really seems to understand the basis of the religion, at the very root level.
We had a teachable moment yesterday. On Monday, all of the kids were running around with my elvis doll (a "barbie" type elvis doll) pretening it was a "voodoo doll." They were making each other do all sorts of crazy shit by using the doll as a proxy, and I was cringing, knowing full well that what they were doing was disrespecting an ancient spiritual practice that white folks have tried to supress for fucking ever. Like white folks do.
At the same time that I realize that this oppression was a basis for the myth surrounding their game, I also realize that the kids have no fucking clue that they are kicking up dirt clods on sacred soil. So, I let them play. However, the next day, I sat Monk down at the computer and read a few entries about voodooism to him, specifically focusing on articles like this one that explain how people in our culture tend to denigrate the practice of voodoo, and the possible reasons why:
Despite Voodoo's noble status as one of the worlds oldest religions, it has been typically characterized as barbaric, primitive, sexually licentious practice based on superstition and spectacle. Much of this image however, is due to a concerted effort by Europeans, who have a massive fear of anything African, to suppress and distort a legitimate and unique religion that flourished among their enslaved Africans. When slavers brought these peoples across the ocean to the Americas, the African's brought their religion with them. However, since slavery included stripping the slaves of their language, culture, and heritage, this religion had to take some different forms. It had to be practiced in secret, since in some places it was punishable by death, and it had to adapt to the loss of their African languages. In order to survive, Voodoo also adopted many elements of Christianity. When the French who were the colonizers of Haiti, realized that the religion of the Africans was a threat to the colonial system, they prohibited all African religion practices and severely punished the practitioners of Voodoo with imprisonment, lashings and hangings. This religious struggle continued for three centuries, but none of the punishments could extinguished the faith of the Africans. This process of acculturation helped Voodoo to grow under harsh cultural conditions in many areas of the Americas.
I particularly wanted to make it clear to Monk that the act of pulling part of a spiritual practice out of the context of the whole is one way people in power maintain their power. By delegitimizing methods of empowerment of a culture or people, we oppress them.
OK, he's EIGHT...so I didn't actually say it that way. I can't even remember what I said specifically, but he LISTENED. It was amazing.
And then, later, when I was reading to him from _The Complete Idiot's Guide to Hinduism_ we of course came upon the section that talked about how people tend to think of Hinduism as a primitive and unsophisticated religion, when in fact it is highly sophisticated (and actually, quite brainy if you think about it...which might explain my Monk is so into it. It's sort of like spiritual braininess if that makes any sense), Monk recognized immediately the parellel between it and Voodooism. He was a bit bummed that he could not be a true Hindu unless he was born into a Hindu family, and we did talk a bit about understanding the culture within which a religion or spiritual practice is born and nurtured, but he really digs the premise of Hinduism...and I love that.
And I love that, interwoven in his interest in this religion, is an opportunity to learn about culture and how the "western world view" differs from the "eastern world view." This is truly what homeschooling is about. We are both learning quite a bit, and the cool thing is that because Monk is interested in the topic, he is learning it well and quickly and it is enjoyable to both of us.
Plus, I gotta admit, it is so fascinating to me that he has an interest in spiritual pursuits. Because, really, when I was his age...I had none. I was introduced to Taoism when I was entering 6th grade and enrolled in a philosophy class through the "Talented and Gifted" (whatever the fuck that meant at the time) program, and I remember that was the first time that any spiritual words spoke to me. I remember clearly beng 9 or 10 years old and allowing my friends to drag me along to Bible study classes and Just. Not. Getting. It.
I have to admit, also, that I'm glad his spiritual practice is beginning with an ancient non-evangelical religion - one that does not seek to drown people out with Truth, Incorporated. It's actually very suitable to Who Monk Is, and I have noticed a barely perceptible shift in the way he approaches things ever since he has discovered his spirituality. He is more apt, for instance, to stop and approach things from a center of kindness and understanding. This might be a developmental leap as much as a spiritual leap - but it is very cool that both things are happening at roughly the same time. That is to say that as Monk is becoming more aware of the world outside (without him at the center) he is also becoming more aware of the world inside (centered within himself). He is such a very cool kid, and I am watching this unfoldment (as the Waldorf people like to call it) with amazement and so much love.
In concert with reading about Hinduism, we have also been reading about Buddhism. We read a picture book about the Buddha which talked about the eightfold path, and I loaned Monk _Diary of a Mosquito Abatement Man_ last weekend, telling him that John P has a very Buddhist outlook. Monk said he liked the book because there were a lot of cuss words in it...but when we sat down to read today, Monk told me that he felt that he had "right livelihood" and that if I hadn't read the book about the Buddha, he still would have learned about it because John P wrote about it in his book.
I am so glad that Monk feels like he has Right Livelihood. I hope he is able to find a way to carry that over into his adult life.
- What's funny is that when we were reading the book about Hinduism, and they were describing the cycles of the world, I gained a sort of peace with Bush's decision to appoint Roberts as Supreme Court Justice. I am so sick and fucking tired of being on red alert. I love my fellow lefties very, very much...and I truly, truly believe that the world is potentially going to become a very shitty place if abortion is illegalized & I do not want to see that happen more than anything else. AND I even believe a lot of the alarmism that's out there, BUT...I dunno. I'm sick to death of the alarmism. I'm tired of people telling me that the sky is falling, even if it really fucking is falling. It is freaking exhausting to me. There. That's my extreme privilege talking, I know...but it's true. I wish there was a way that we could rally around the only policies that make sense without making everyone afraid that people are going to end up dead or in jail for certain medical procedures - just like I wish we could get people to give a shit about the environment without having to point out that if we don't we will surely die. Even if these things are true (which I believe them to be, wholeheartedly) I really, truly, fucking wish we didn't have to talk about the extreme consequences to wake people the fuck up. Because I'm tired of hearing it...there I go again, talking about my tiredness, but seriously. Five days out of seven, I have 5-7 children running around here demanding every ounce of my patience and positive problem-solving skills, and sometimes I think what the United States of America needs right now is to be parented better. And any good parent knows that, yes, sometimes you have to point out what the fucking consequences of an action will be, but when a child is freaking hell-bent on making wrong fucking choices, sometimes you have no choice but to allow the natural consequence play itself out. And, again, I know it's my extreme privilege that allows me to view it this way, but there are times (like now) when I just want to throw up my hands and say "Fuck it. Go ahead. We'll see where this gets you."
But, you know, no matter how fucking tempting it is to let the kid stick a knife in the electrical outlet just to allow that lesson to play itself out, I know I just can't, in good conscience, do that...because there's always a risk that the natural consequence of my benign neglect will be that the natural consequence of the situation being tested will be death or serious injury - either of the individual (as in electrical shock) or society (as in countless desperate women bleeding to death internally and/or rotting in jail and/or being interrogated when they have a miscarriage and/or oh, you get the fucking picture.)
So, while I'm tempted to allow society to shove that knife into that electrical socket, plug my ears, close my eyes and wait for the fucker to fry...The mama in me Just. Can't.
But the question is...what CAN I do? What can any of us do? And does alarming everybody with the inevitable really help, or does it just add to the desensitization initiated by the countless terror alerts combined with the disempowerment of being forced to withstand the spector and spectacle of death around the globe in Iraq, and so many other places elsewhere.
- Speaking of spectacles of death, how selfish is it that the discovery that a recent death was accidental rather than suicidal is a freaking RELIEF to me.
- And talk of suicide seems to be contageous among the kiddos in my community. The other day, they were all sitting at the table, and one of them said "Did you know you can KILL YOURSELF?"
- Also contagious is the song "July! July!" by the Decemberists. My kids and I cannot get in the car without hearing that song at least once.
- I had a new friend over today who has only been over here once before. She's not a homeschooler, and I don't think she spends a lot of time with people who do homeschool. I think she was surprised about the fact that I had 5 kids in the house and 2 of them were reading books pretty much the whole time she was there, and the rest of them alternated between playing with pattern blocks and blurting out odd bits of information and playing made up games with action figures. I dunno, though. I pretty much ONLY hang out with homeschoolers (more due to my schedule than any snobbyness on my part, although I fully admit that I am a total snob) and this behavior might very well be normal for schoolers and homeschoolers alike.
- Coley and I have been playing twenty questions, and I'm either really fucking bad at coming up with things for him to guess, or he is a fucking psychic. Monk, too. I swear, one time...I said "I'm thinking about something that is outside." Monk said, immediately, "Is it the clothesline?" We both cracked up. It was! It was the freaking clothesline! And it wasn't even that I was looking at it, because we were in the kitchen and you can't even see the clothesline from the kitchen. Then I said "OK, I'm thinking of something else that's outside" and Monk said "It's the hammock." Fuck. Today, with Cole, I said "I'm thinking of something I can see." He said, giggling, because he knew what I was thinking of already, "Is it RED?" "yes." "Do you SLIDE DOWN IT?" Geez Louise, can you at least PRETEND that I'm not totally transparent. "Yes. It's the slide, Coley. It's the SLIDE. OK?"
- I think that's all I have to say for now. It's getting late, and I already went all bad cop on the kids because they were still giggling at midnight and we have to be up early for swim lessons tomorrow. I'm all "You have to go to bed at a decent hour, because I will NOT abide grouchiness all day." And here *I'm* going to be grouchy all day. Maybe.
- But I doubt it.
Tight Squeeze...
July 19, 2005
Hey everyone,
Next week is going to be really tight for us, so if you have any cash to spare please feel free to hit the paypal link to the left. I will be flush once I get paid and will find a way to pay it forward. Or I can send a mix CD if you do the address thingy in the paypal window.
Thank you.
Sudoko
July 19, 2005
Zeebah linked up this site. I will have to print some out for the kids to try.
Death Penalty.
July 19, 2005
I think I may have discovered my own personal exception to my anti-death penalty stance:
DED Space: Man suspects toddler of being gay and beats him to death
On second thought, death would be too kind for this person. If he has ANY conscience at all, maybe it's best that he live with himself a good, long time.
Week End.
July 19, 2005
The weekend was delightful, actually. Roller Skating on Saturday, ping pong on Sunday, long stretches of glorious Time To Myself.
And then Monday morning rolled around, and I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of my children. They didn't come. An hour after the time they are supposed to be here, I was on the phone with the police. I had no way of reaching the person who was to bring them to me, and no way of knowing whether there was an accident, or anything else.
I was pretty much beside myself with worry and dread, and then the person who was supposed to bring them to me called. There was a mixup with rides and this person brought them to work instead of bringing them to me. So I drove all the way across town to get them.
When I got there, it turned out that there was not a mix up with rides. That all of that was an elaborate lie to get me to drive 20 minutes out of my way (forcing Monk to miss his swimming lesson) so this person could accuse me of the crime of planning a vacation with the children, in front of co-workers and random people in the office. Apparently, Monk got his information mixed up, and told this person that I was going to be taking them to New Mexico this week, instead of the actual planned date of departure at some date in the future.
Now, NORMAL people, upon hearing this information, would CALL to clarify with the other person if there was concern about scheduling. If a NORMAL PERSON feared some sort of repercussion for doing so, there are legal means in place to take action. Of course, even if I had planned to take a trip with the kids without telling this person when and where, I would be violating nothing but common rules of courtesy (which I actually do a damn good job of following, in spite of the numerous obstacles this particular relationship presents).
However, instead of following these same common rules of courtesy, this person decided to do something that caused me a great deal of distress and worry, and Monk an entire swimming lesson.
I am pretty sure this person reads this blog, and I would like to inform this person that...well...I'm sorry that you feel like you need to be paranoid. I think that if you were to examine my conduct with regard to the children, you would realize that I have always been forthright and honest about their activities, their whereabouts, and their states of mind - even when I felt that honesty might put me at personal risk. I would like to tell this person that the children are not little chess pieces that can be placed strategically in situations to keep me in check, and that I will not abide that behavior. Nor will I allow it to interfere with my life or my happiness. And I will do my damndest to not let it interfere with THEIRS.
New Freedom Initiative.
July 17, 2005
Nancy Levant: Mental Health Screening in Schools Signals the End of Parental Rights
The fact is that our president has mandated that every American child, age 3 through 18, is federally ordered to be evaluated for mental health issues and to receive “enforced” treatment. Welcome to President Bush’s New Freedom Initiative and New Freedom Commission on Mental Health. Welcome to life-long profiling and drug addictions, New Freedom-style.
Sorry...these should probably all be one post, but I'm cleaning out my e-mail box and just throwing things up (which is a proper way of saying that, by the way, considering the nausea I'm feeling just reading this shit). I'll see if I can find the stomach to combine and blog about it later.
There is probably more to come...this is a popular topic on the homeschooling lists. I mean, if this fucked up shit ALONE doesn't convince you to homeschool, you are fucking hardcore.
Also Scary.
July 17, 2005
REALLY fucking scary.
July 17, 2005
The Gleasons would not be allowed to see or even speak to their daughter for the next five months, and Aliah would spend a total of nine months in a state psychiatric hospital and residential treatment facilities. While in the hospital, she was placed in restraints more than 26 times and medicated—against her will and without her parents' consent—with at least 12 different psychiatric drugs, many of them simultaneously.
Like an Erector Set, only...er...sexier.
July 17, 2005
Fedex Furniture Foiled
July 17, 2005
I just think this is interesting because Fedex owns Kinko's now. It must be even more hellish to work there now than it ever was before.
Brick Journal
July 17, 2005
BrickJournal - the magazine for Adult Fans of LEGO
Cool!
This shit freaks me RIGHT out.
July 17, 2005
The Dominion: Psychiatry and Human Rights
"They are already going into schools," said Oaks. "They are testing the kids and then pressuring (them) to be on the psych drugs but they've also called for this program to apply to every single adult, for instance through your general health care practitioner. In New York City already, physicians are being trained to ask certain mental health questions." The May-June 2005 issue of Mother Jones reported that "in one month, Texas put 19,000 kids on atypical antipsychotics. Half were overmedicated: and as many lacked a diagnosis that validated the drugs' use in the first place."
Not only is this yet another reason to homeschool, but it's a damn compelling argument to run off with my family and hide in a cave somewhere.
Room for Rent.
July 16, 2005
The kids are at their dad's this weekend, and I'm here listening to loud music, feeling sort of melancholy about their absence - thinking about the week just past and all of the fun we had. I feel like a lovesick teenager, and I think that's so fucking wonderful in its way, too.
I don't think I can ever adequately convey what our life is like here, which is probably OK, too. We spend our days...our weeks...doing random things, going here and there, hanging out at the house, reading, talking, doing chores, arguing, loving each other, being really fucking sick of each other. It's a truly great life.
Last week, I began what might be a long process of finding a roommate. I want to find someone who will fit into the puzzle without too much disruption. The woman I interviewed last week has a two year old daughter, and they seem like nice enough people, but...I don't think they fit. I can't even put to words why I think they won't fit, but I just get a FEELING that they don't. Today, I'm thinking part of it is the fact that she has her daughter all of the time, and on the weekends when my children are with their father I have a problem with having another child in the house for two reasons 1) because, you know, grown-up time (which translates to loud music, running around cleaning up without everyting becoming un-cleaned immediately after, loud sex...that kind of thing) and 2) I would almost feel like I'm cheating on my kids in a weird way. It would just be strange to see someone else's child more than I see my own.
So, I'm going to have to tell her that I've pretty much made up my mind. My kids, too, will be somewhat crestfallen about it because I think Monk really liked her and her daughter (he was so cute...in trying to show the woman how cool it would be to live here, he was playing with her little girl, reading to her, being so very sweet. He's just such a nice kiddo. Anyone who moves in here will be lucky to be in his presence.)
I need to think this roommate thing through, really. And I can thank this first interviewee for giving me the opportunity to step back a bit. I truly, truly need the extra money. I can afford to get by without it if I continue to be frugal, but I'm so fucking tired of having to be super-frugal about money...and that room is just back there, sitting there, waiting.
So, while it's tempting to run out and find the first person who can pay the rent on a regular basis, I also feel like I need to take the time to really examine what I'm looking for.
While the idea of cohousing with another parent is really appealing to me, it almost seems impossible to form that kind of compatible parenting relationship out of nothing. I am really fucking picky about certain parenting issues, to the point of snobbishness. I'm fortunate that most of the people I parent around seem to have the same ideals, but I have known most of these people for a very long time.
So, let's see if I can write a list of requirements of a new roommate:
- Kid-friendly (whether they have kids or not)
- Able to set AND ENFORCE (as gently as possible/necessary) limits and boundaries with kids (theirs and mine)
- Vegetarian (or at least willing to not cook meat in the house)
- Homeschool-friendly
- NOT a homebody. I want to have periods of aloneness in the house on occasion.
- If they have kids, I really would prefer that they have either a significant other or family member or friends that their kids can spend time with, particularly when my kids are not here
- Not too messy, not too neat. Not the kind of person who feels resentful about having to clean up when I can't get to it. But not the kind of person who will just leave horrible messes everywhere in hopes that someone else will clean them up.
- non-smoking
- able to fill in for me on occasion if I, say, want to go for a walk or something after the kids are asleep...or occasionally be a back-up babysitter (this is not HUGELY important, but it would be nice)
- interested in helping with home and yard maintenance. Someone who will be invested in working cooperatively with me to make the space appealing.
- someone who is politically compatible with me. At least marginally.
- pet friendly
- reliable
You know, the more I think about this list...the more I'm like "I am not looking for a roommate...I'm looking for a partner." But then...I'm not at all sure that I want to be romantically involved with the person I'm cohabitating with (or, perhaps it's that I'm not sure I want to cohabitate with the person I am romantically involved with.)
Also, there are some ownership issues here that I'm not sure about. Like, I seem to want a lot of investment and ownership from this person, but I don't think I'm willing to allow that this house would become community property. I still feel very much like I want the space to be MINE. So, perhaps I'm looking for something a little more temporary than a co-housing relationship. Or maybe the fact that it wouldn't be a permanent arrangement would be appealing to the other person, like test-driving a house without having to be ultimately responsible for it.
Part of me feels like I need to keep my mind open to whatever possibilities are out there. I'm almost positive the woman I talked with last week is not the solution, but maybe if I put the ad out on Craig's List I can find someone who would fit in better. Another alternative is to find another quiet, working or grad student type young adult. I rented the room to someone like that a few years ago, and he was a MODEL roommate...but we very definitely did not have any sort of relationship other than landlord/room occupant. That would seem to be less complex, but is that what I'm really looking for?
We will see.
Flo, Ick, and Misogyny
July 15, 2005
You really need to read Robert's post about "Ick."
Then you need to read Redneck Mother's post about Flo, which includes such genius writing as this:
The gist was this: We were about to become women, and Lord, it was going to be a mess. But with a little knowledge and some helpful tips about makeup and horseback riding, we were going to get through it.
Then you need to read Robert's follow-up post about Birth and ick. And *I* like it so much, I'm going to quote it here:
Men's squeamishness about menstruation serves, in a very fundamental way, to reinforce the concept that women's sexuality exists primarily for men's pleasure.
And since the whole Flo conversation is altogether too timely for me...I'm just going to head back to bed and let the kids watch PBS all morning.
Enjoy.
yes.
July 14, 2005
I also don't want the most genuine and tender things that I live in my day-to-day to feel like an unsatisfying echo of something I've seen in a movie and now have to live out without the benefit of a rousing musical score or an anguished close up.
I don't think this is what Maude meant...
July 14, 2005
when she said "Consistency is not a human trait."
Which is it, George?
Reauthorize the Patriot Act...
but NOT the Voters Rights act.
Because, you know, you don't really need rights as a voter...particularly a voter of color...if you don't have any actual freedoms as a citizen.
but NOT if they are heroic Republicans.
I just don't have anything snide I can add to that. Just the overwhelming urge to start slapping people.
Thanks to Amanda for that link to newshounds.
He even kinda LOOKS like a weasel, though.
July 14, 2005
See...this is way more productive than the string of expletives that came to my mind when reading the most recent McClellan press conference:
"I mean we change our opinions an awful lot — well, kind of, a lot of the time," said WAL spokesman McLean. "We even tend to stray from the truth to avoid damaging situations at times -- but this McClellan guy is over the top. Well, maybe not 'over the top' but, well, he makes even real weasels a little squeamish"
Thanks to The Countess for the link.
Personal? Political?
July 13, 2005
I am honored to have received such immensely flattering complimentes from Zwichenzug. It's nice to have it recognized that my life, like all lives, really, is a political statement, and that writing about my life is activism of sorts. Particularly because I am much much too busy these days to engage in more externally motivated activism. When I read such nice things about what I do, it's like getting permission and validation for working from home to ease the burden a bit.
I actually used to write more about overtly political topics, and I probably will again one day. But when I read stuff like this, all I can think to write is a string of expletives...and, really, selfishly speaking, that doesn't accomplish nearly as much as just going about my day and finding small things that I can shape into little stories to share with you.
Since comments have been down, blogging has been sorta different for me. I like the exchange of ideas and conversation that comments bring, but I'm also pleased to know that I can continue to motivate myself to write without constant reinforcement and reward. I guess the lack of comments makes little surprises like Zwich's post that much more dear.
Yummy yummy yummy yummy...fruit salad!
July 13, 2005
He kicked the music bin, and...it "boinged."
"What's making that noise, mom?" He kicked it again.
"Boing!" Said the music bin.
He dug through it, unearthed tamborines, shakers, Harmonicas...
And the Wiggles guitar. The fucking Wiggles guitar. The God Damn MOTHERfucking Wiggles guitar.
"Boingggggggg!" Indeed.
The complexities of human relationships
July 12, 2005
I've been thinking a lot about all of the discussion around "emotional work" instigated by Robert and continued ad nauseum (read: until I wanted to just slap certain individuals) at Pandagon. I've been tempted to e-mail some links to my boyfriend, even, because I feel like I would like to discuss the concept of "emotional work" with him, particularly because lately it feels like he doesn't do any of it, and I just sort of let it all slide because, shit, who has the time? He's nice, we get along, so I'm sacrificing depth for the time being for the sake of "niceness" and "getting alongness." And, to be frank, I think at this point in my life I actually NEED niceness and getting alongness MORE than emotional depth.
But I think in addition to wanting to discuss and apply the concepts of "emotional work" to my romantic relationship, I'm feeling like I need to consider it as it relates to my children - both my relationship with them and their relationship with each other/others.
I have talked before about the way cool hella kick-ass childcare arrangement I have with some other mamas, and it really is all that. However, it's more than all that. It's a complex relationship that needs to be nurtured and maintained. For one thing, I have to make sure that I am keeping the lines of communication open and finely tuned so that I'm sensitive to the needs of the other mamas who are sharing (and sometimes doing the bulk of) childcare duties. I need to make sure that any potential issues are discussed before they become actual issues. I need to make sure that I am co-creating an actual relationship with these people that is both simple (in that we honestly care about each other and each other's offspring) and really fucking complex (in that we are all humans with hang-ups and issues and, at least in my case, quite a few neurotic tendencies.)
Additionally, we need to make sure the kids are nurturing the same kind of relationship with each other. Since they do spend so much time together, their friendships resemble sibling relationships and are really quite intense at times. There's a razor-thin line between over-supervising and under-acknowledging the issues that are almost always just bubbling under the surface. We had an interesting and enlightening situation that arose today that illustrates this reality.
The kids (there are 4 of them - my two and P's two) had been together since the night before. They were all getting along great until late afternoon, when suddenly one of the kids was confessing to the crime of hitting.
"Why on earth would you hit someone?" I asked.
"I just lost my temper" was the response. "I have a very short temper."
"You know what?" I said. "I also have a very short temper, so I know how that feels. In fact, there are days where I feel like I could walk around just slapping EVERYONE. But I have told you before that it is NOT OK to lay your hands on someone else, no matter how much you think they might deserve it."
At that point, P arrived home and started dealing with that end of things, while I went in to investigate the crime further. As it turned out (as it almost always turns out) there was more to it. As the story unraveled, it became more and more complex. And while we did make it clear to our hitter that the consequence of hitting is almost always blame, it's clear to me/us that blame does not always rest squarely on the shoulders of the hitter. I think at one point I told the hitter "Look, I know you are a wonderful, sweet, kind, caring, compassionate kiddo...but not everyone knows that. And when you hit people, people who don't know you won't care."
But anyway, I digress. There is lots and lots and lots of material I could share about the wonderful and delicate interweavings of the children I spend so much of my time with, but the fact is that half of those children are not mine, so I am not completely comfortable discussing details. Suffice to say that "The hitter" is way more than "a hitter." "The hitter" is a wonderful, considerate, compassionate, intelligent kiddo who happens, for whatever reason, to occasionally have a difficult time walking away from situations rather than engaging in them.
What I can relate is what Monk and I discussed after all was said and done and everyone had gone home. The discussion that followed the hitting incident revolved around a couple of things. First, Hitting Is Wrong. Second, when you feel you are being treated unfairly by someone, you need to speak up and let someone know. Third (and totally fucking subtle for 7-8-9 year old children, but I think conveyable if not teachable) when you care about someone, you don't necessarily wait for them to tell you that they are pissed off, or hurt, or uncomfortable with the way you are treating them...you pay attention to the signals they are giving you, and you lay off.
Specifically, I said to Monk that he is a playful kid. He likes to play tricks on people and "tell stories" (or LIE) to see what he can get away with. Sometimes this goes over well, and results in a big laugh all around. Sometimes...not so much. What he needs to learn, as much as the hitter needs to learn to not hit, is to recognize the signals that perhaps his tricks aren't being well received and BACK OFF and even APOLOGIZE if he crosses a line. Just like the hitter has a bad temper, and needs to learn how to self-regulate that temper before he reaches the hitting stage, Monk has a playful nature, and needs to realize there are consequences to his playfulness that might result in other people getting hurt, and he needs to learn to regulate his behavior to avoid having that happen.
Phew. Now THAT is a brain and a half-full.
But, as always, while evaluating the situation and discussing it with the children, I gained some valuable insight into relationships. For one thing, I realized how very fucking difficult it is to maintain relationships with people you are close to. I don't think I give myself enough credit for this, because I am blessed to have so many people with whom "doing the work" is an absolute pleasure. But watching the children struggle with this is enlightening at the same time that it is painful. So Monk and I had a conversation about how important it is to recognize how difficult it can be to maintain relationships with people you see frequently...and that sometimes it is actually easier to get along with people you don't know so well, although maybe not as rewarding.
I feel like this kind of work, while difficult for the kids, ultimately results in some valuable learning. There is work to be done with them around setting, clearly communicating, and respecting boundaries...and there's also work that *I* need to do around figuring out how much is too much, and when is it clearly time for the kids to get a break from each other, and when to intervene and when to butt out. All things considered, though, I think the parents, and the kids, are doing a fantastic job...and I'm delighted that in spite of the setbacks I can watch them grow and learn together.
Sick day
July 12, 2005
I have a sick kiddo today. Inconveniently sick, as there is about a ton and a half of work that I need to do which requires that I actually be AT work to do. I feel sort of guilty, and even more guilty because part of my guilt comes from a feeling of relief.
I love my job dearly, moreso every day now that I'm feeling like there are new challenges being offered to me and more appreciation being given for the work that I do. All the same, it's actually nice to be able to take a day off and tend to the little barfy one. He's fairly undemanding when he is sick, and I just need to give him some extra love, and check in on him from time to time - encouraging him to get more rest and less movement.
I feel sometimes like my life is strangely divided - that I am both a stay at home mom and a work outside the home mom. I have empathy for both. There are days when I would like nothing more than to leave a sick child in the hands of someone else so I can go to work and get away, and there are days like today that tending to a stomach bug is exactly what I need to be doing. And it's not even that I am dreading being at work, because I had a lot of really interesting and fun meetings and events to attend today, but it's just that it feels right to be here.
I used to tell people that I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, and then I would amend that statement to say that I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom on the days that I wanted to stay at home, and a work outside the home mom on the days I wanted to work outside the home. Right now, at this moment, I feel like I have about the closest thing to the latter that I could possibly have. I love my time at home with my children, and I love my time away from them when I am at work. I love the people who are kind enough to help me facilitate this lifestyle - co-workers who are understanding of my schedule, and friends who are so supportive and work so hard to take care of my kids while I am at work.
As an example of the latter, I did not even know my little guy was sick until I came home last night. There was no frenzied call from Pansy, who was watching them. Even when I walked in, I had to ask why Coley was lying face down on the chair for her to calmly explain the events of the evening. She is such a freaking Goddess, and clearly makes up for all of the really difficult people I have ever had in my life. There's something amazingly rare about someone who will clean up your child's vomit and not seem the slightest bit resentful or irritated about it. She laughed when I asked her if she actually cleaned up, but, um, I've lived with people who have more reason to be invested in my children and myself who have left the mess for me. Seriously.
At any rate...I hope everyone out there is doing well. I'm going to go see what I can do about setting the big kids up with an activity and banishing the freaking Wiggles guitar from the house forever.
Road Trip.
July 8, 2005
I'm going to be heading out to New Mexico at some point in the near future...to Carlsbad and points beyond. Does anyone have any suggestions for cool camping spots or vacation sites that are inexpensive and famiy-friendly? email me.
And, the opposite of the preceding...
July 8, 2005
More via ex-lion tamer, who I also thank...for his vigilance.
Thank you.
July 8, 2005
Whitman's Words Still Good to Live By
"This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body."
Thank you, Walt Whitman...and thank you, Pansy.
Insidious Privilege
July 8, 2005
Here's a snapshot of how privilege is woven into the fabric of parenthood and divorce.
You all know how excited I am about the fact that the guys can swim now. It's one of those things I have been working on with them for years, and one of those things that seemed to happen just when I decided to stop "working on it" and letting it be.
I was telling someone who is a marginal figure in our lives (more in my kids' lives than mine) about the excitement I was feeling, not just about the fact that they are swimming, but also about the fact that they seem to have overcome the major fear that was keeping them from swimming. The person responded "I bet it's really helpful that they have the pool at their dad's house so they can get more practice and more time in the water."
That comment cut me off right there and I made my departure, but was thinking about it all the way home and HAD to call that person back to confront what I felt was the total dismissive nature of the hard work that I've been doing with them.
I certainly don't want to minimize the work that L does with the children. He has been taking them out swimming and, in general, engaging them in more active pursuits. However, I have had those kids at the pool 3-4 days a week until my eyes can't stand the chlorine. I have talked about fears, I have encouraged them, I have told them stories, and I have bought them swim gear and paid for swim lessons.
It pisses me off that all of that effort on my part is equalized to L's efforts. And it pisses me off that I can't point out how fucked up that is without being accused of being over-sensitive and/or bitter. I am not bitter about L's contributions. What I am bitter about, in general, is the fact that my hard work is a given, and any effort he puts forth is heroic. My contribution is minimized, and his is magnified until they are some fucked-up form of equal.
In reality, I don't take any credit. I intentionally remove myself from the byline of their accomplishments. That, to me, is what being a parent is all about. I can give them the environment, the tools, and the time to achieve things, but I cannot credit myself for the achievement. It's not martyrdom, it's my nature AND my belief. Because of this, not only are my chilren not credited for their successes, but their father is. That's just messed up. And the fact that such a disparity breeds such disproportionate praise is the very definition of privilege.
Of course, when I confronted this person with my feelings on the subject, she told me I was "blowing it out of proportion" - which is a common practice of people who harbor unexamined biases. When I explained to her that part of the problem in my relationship with L was that I don't feel I was ever given credit for my hard work both as a wife and a mother - both before and after the break up, the person seemed to totally understand. She said "Single mothers often feel that their contributions aren't appreciated." But it was perplexing to me that she would get this, and still not see how offhandedly hurtful the "dad's pool" comment might have been. Due to the nature of my relationship with this person, I had to sort of just express my displeasure and let it drop. I certainly don't want people to have to be hypervigilant about the words they choose around me. At the same time, I would expect that when called out, a person would at least recognize the impact of their words and validate my feelings rather than acting like I was making a mountain out of a molehill. So, I'm sort of left with a bad taste, a ringing in my ears, and I can't help but wonder if this person is conveying a realistic vision to my kids in her dealings with them. In spite of all that I feel she has done to help them, I have to wonder if she's doing damage at the same time.
Friday Random Ten - Version "I'm still FREAKING married"
July 8, 2005
Don't EVEN ask.
- They Might Be Giants - The World's Address
- Bikini Kill - Rebel Girl
- John Lennon - Real Love (acoustic demo)
- Leonard Cohen - If It Be Your Will
- Jesus and Mary Chain - Blues From a Gun
- Fugazi - Turkish Disco
- Depeche Mode - Just Can't Get Enough
- Air - Radio #1 (Senor Coconut Remix)
- The Damned - Bound for Glory
- Bikini Kill - Don't Need You
shit.
July 7, 2005
bomb blasts plunge London into chaos
Love and Sleep and my life in Music
July 7, 2005
This might get a little rambly. I wrote it in a paper journal while Monk was playing Contraptions yesterday. And because I'm unused to writing in my paper journal, I'm not sure if it will make any sense. But I was doing the dishes when Nickel Creek came on the CD jukebox & I had to stop and listen...and then write.
Keep the music playing was a cheesy Kinko's indoctrination tagline to keep people working hard. "Multi-tasking" was what they called it, before computers made the term passe & it's not unrecognized irony that brings the robotic to mind to attempt to squeeze the human element out of the equation almost entirely. It was a term I used in my training classes, I must admit. I must cop to my reliance on taglines and pseudo hip references to Making Work Fun.
The real irony was that there were always enough musicians at Kinko's to actually have kep real music playing, rather than dancing frantically to the cacophony of paper cutter, Xerox machine, and the staccato slap slap slap of the folding machine.
The other irony is the longer I worked at Kinko's, the less likely I was to enjoy actual music. I still heard it, but my body became so addicted to non-rhythmic motion that I rarely took the time to stop and listen to it.
Music has been a part of my life for so long, and maybe it's harsh to blame Kinko's. When I worked at Kinko's in Chicago, music was always, literally, playing. Blasting. From the little stereo in the back. Eric played his "Rocking Oldies," Ted, the manager, his "classic rock." Ted called my music "Kill the Pope Show Tunes," but he let me play it anyway, having the wisdom to know that Actually, Music Does Make Work Fun. I remember flying across the room to manually edit out potentially offensive songs by volume or fast forward.
Graveyard shifts were the best. All of my musician friends would come to me to have their flyers copies & would frequently leave me offerings in the form of demos & vinyl. And who can forget the night sweet Kera serenaded me with her cello while I darted from machine to machine, feeling full of life and love for my life.
When I moved to Austin, things were different. Kinko's had become more corporate. The musicians still worked there, but they were fettered. I remember nothing of a soundtrack, save for the day Jeff spontaneously a-capellaed Billy Joel's "You May Be Right, I May Be Crazy" to me while I sat in the back office, counting down a cash drawer. That memory is minted because it's so rare.
Music was still thoroughly a part of my home life. Mix tapes, shows, and record stores. I wore my baseball cap turned backwards and my Kinko's backpack full of hopeful zines to trade as I wandered the unwelcoming crowds at the shows in Austin.
I remember the first night I hung out with L. I was frantic - attempting to share with him all of the music I held dear. I played him Trenchmouth's "The Volcanic Action of my Soul" as if it was my tuneful biography. And when I dug up his Dog Faced Hermans CD, I was instantly jealous - certain that he could never love me when there was someone as cool as the lead singer of that band wandering around the planet. Because, in spite of my love for music, I was never a musician.
Unfortunately, L & I ended up having weirdly opposing views on music. I found myself listening to less and less, to avoid having my feelings hurt by his tendency to turn down, put down, or turn off whatever I happened to be listening to at any given time. L was a musician, but I don't think I ever saw him stop and listen to music, other than the music that was obviously constantly flowing through his head.
I can't say at all that's what ended our relationship, but it's funny that my relationship with L & Kinko's ended at roughly the same time. And odder still that my relationship with J seems to have been woven with the richness of the music that was so lacking with L.
I was still a perpetual motion machine when J & I first started hanging out again. (I had dated J's roommate before I met L, but we had been out of touch pretty much the entire time I was with L) It was suitable that my first reinitiation into the world of J felt like a religious experience in the guise of the Spearhead performance at the Austin City Limits festival. Our last encounter that I remember before we had lost touch had been a show at Emo's, and before that, we went together to a Crash Worship show on someone's land outside of Austin. J's presence in my life has always been accompanied by Good Music.
And so it was that I finally relearned to stop & listen. How I can once again appreciate the intricate beauty of bluegrass and the raw emotion of punk rock. How I find myself marveling over the gifts musicians and artists bring to this world.
J taught me stillness. How many nights have we lay in the dark. Just listening. Or sometimes I will sing to him in my tone-deaf voice, un-self consciously. I think one night I sang the Milk & Scissors CD by The Handsome Family in its entirety. And he endured. And I love him for that. I love him for reacquainting me with stillness and appreciation of sound - even while I am shaking my butt. And for always appreciating with me - the breadth and width of artists I adore.
I feel like I am only beginning to understand music. For what feels like the first time in my life, I find myself firmly gripped by the significance of the artists' offerings. I feel this, especially, when I listen to musicians who are little known, regardless of thier genre. There's a connection I feel - a connection in the need to express oneself, artist to listener, in a way that is deeply personal and generous and also wholly selfish. The artist creates because she has to...and yet sometimes those creations can feel like personalized offerings to the soul who receives them. So-called "amateur" musicians, those who release recordings that are heard by only a relative handful of people, amaze me. Bands like Rites of Spring and Beauty Pill, who played their fucking hearts out, offered their souls up to audiences, and have immense talent, but are never heard or recognized by a good many people who probably should hear them and would enjoy them, amaze me. Like I recently told Bradley Horowitz, who was in a little-known band from the '80s called Spahn Ranch, his music was like a little secret I carried around with me and shared with people I felt were deserving...and they were always glad that I did. I'm thankful for the secret, thankful for the sharing, and thankful - so very thankful - for the music.
"Dip me in patchouli and call me a sensitive new-age guy"
July 7, 2005
Bark/Bite: Men, Divorce, and Beer
Were this just about a rejection of the adult world, it would be bad enough. But in so many of these situations the rejected "adult world" of responsibility and maturity becomes a rejection of an imagined "woman's world," and by extension, women. The fantasized world of boy-men includes an abandonment of not only responsibilities like bills and jobs and insurance, but also emotional responsibilites like caring and sharing and listening.
I don't think I have anything that I can add to this post. Except "Thank You."
I'm up for a book meme before bedtime
July 7, 2005
since you asked (I'm sorry it took me so long to find your request!)
Here's the meme:
Number of books I own: I have never actually even THOUGHT to count. Hundreds. Especially when you take the children's books and curriculum into account.
Last book I bought: I picked up Deschooling Society by Ivan Illich for 98 cents at Half Price books last Sunday.
Last book I read: I'm currently reading three books: How Children Fail by John Holt, Manhatten Transfer by John Dos Passos, and, erm, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by Covey. I've read the last two before, but am re-reading to get a different sense out of them.
Books that Mean a Lot to me: Urgh. I hate questions like this. Here's a brief list.
- The Subterraneans by Jack Kerouac. I remember reading this in math class, holding my math textbook up and pretending to listen to the lecture while I was secretly crying my eyes out about Sal (was he Sal in that book?) and Mardou Fox.
- Narcissism and Death by Mariarosa Sclauzero, with Illustrations by Sue Coe. I was driven around Chicago one day while DEVOURING this book. I have read it several times since.
- Scripture of the Golden Eternity by Jack Kerouac. You just really have to read it.
- The Teenage Liberation Handbook by Gracy Llewellyn. Absolutely necessary.
- Diary of a Mosquito Abatement Man by John Porcellino. Because he fucking rocks. That's why.
- Birthing From Within by Pam England. An essential on my list of impending motherhood books.
- Johnny Got his Gun by Dalton Trumbo. Definitely going on Monk's reading list as soon as I feel like he can handle it.
I'm sure there are more, but I can't think of them off of the top of my head. I'm sure I'll do this meme again some day and have totally different ideas.
I'm supposed to tag 5 people to do this meme. I'll tag the newbies first - let's hear from you Pansy, KC, Robert...and two more...how about FiveBlue and RHD, who always has such awesome suggestions, if she's not too busy with the new baby!
love love!
Cinnamon Cookies & Ice Sculptures
July 6, 2005
I just posted the recipe for the cinnamon cookies Monk and I cooked last week. they were freaking delicious.
Right now, the kids are busily carving away at a huge block of ice I froze for them. They have liquid water colors and chopsticks and butter knives, and the ice particles are flying. They are loving it, and it's such a nice, cool summer activity for them...we'll probably do it again soon. Who knew a bowl of ice could be so engaging.
An email to a band
July 6, 2005
I just fired off the following e-mail after a very educational lunch with the kiddos:
Hi Albert,I just wanted to let you know that my two kids, Monk (8) and Cole (4) and I really love The Decemberists. Today, they started walking around the house singing “July, July” so I put on Castaways and Cutouts to listen to while we ate lunch, and we discussed all of the interesting lyrical poetry that the Decemberists’ lyrics employ. It was an excellent discussion, and I totally appreciate that I was able to use modern music to give them an appreciation for classical literary techniques.
Thanks so much! If the lyricist(s) in the band have time to respond to this, my kids would love it if you would give us some of your literary influences — particularly if you have any childhood favorites that you would like to share.
LivelifeloveDrucilla
I think my kids will just be so thrilled if they respond.
Is it wrong?
July 6, 2005
Is it wrong for me to think it's adorable that Monk is meditating? I made him lock himself in the bathroom to do it so I wouldn't keep running up to him and smothering him with hugs and kisses.
Underexposed Austin Blogs
July 6, 2005
There are a few blogs on my blogroll which originate in Austin and aren't getting nearly the amount of exposure they deserve. Not that I'm a hit-monger or anything, but every little bit helps.
64Arts - Pansy has such a cool and direct voice that speaks to issues from homeschooling to crafts to sociopolitical topics. She's also happens to be a good friend of mine, mother of Monk's best friend, Lu, and one of my all-time favorite people in the entire world, ever. She doesn't post nearly as much as I wish she would, but maybe we can all work together to cajole some more posts out of her.
Redneck Mother - KCB is smart, funny, and very savvy. She writes about homeschooling, parenting, and politics...oh, and chicken herding. She is an absolute riot, both in person and on blog. Not to mention one of the strongest mamas I know.
Bark/Bite - My newest discovery, so I'm not yet quite as familiar with him. He's a homeschooler in Austin who I have also met, and who also writes about homeschooling and socio-political topics of interest...with flair and cuss words!
Enjoy the reads! The kids and I are going to be making ice sculptures today.
Blogger SOS
July 6, 2005
George passes along notes on bloggers who are in need of funds for various reasons.
Noteworthy for me is Natalie Davis, who has been a shero of mine for some time, although I'm not sure if I have ever told her in words. If there is any way you can help her out, please do so.
July, 2005
July 5, 2005
Independence Week. (I'm pleased to know I have an extension on independence day, as I was looking forward to being divorced by then.)
This Friday will be the final hearing. Finally. The end.
Encouragement, wise words, or anything else you got is welcome.
July, 1998
July 4, 2005
About every month or so, I look back through old journals at this time in that period. This month's vintage is 1998. I found a bunch of old e-mails in which I was reconnecting with old friends and attempting to hammer out the idea of the still unfinished novel. Enjoy! (Names have been changed to protect the, er, innocent.)
To: TC
From: DBB
Subject: Re: The Preceding.
11:44 PM 7/6/1998
Whoah...
Sorry about the lag/lapse. I received yr e-mail regarding my apparent lack of focus or definition awhile back and it got buried in junk e-mail and I apologize or maybe it was subconscious or something, but anyway...
Yes. I understand that I have been less than clear (Hell, less than vague, even) about the format or purpose of my book. I do realize that I was at least somewhat and perhaps entirely defensive in a couple of my responses to you. I think what is happening here is that I'm sort of just gathering material and inputting it and seeing what I come up with. And what I did is tried to present this gathering stage to youunder the guise of me knowing exactly what I'm doing. And I don't. I don't have any clue what I am doing or why. I'm just doing it. So right now I'm entering chronological data and asking for other people if they have anything that might help me with this, and I'm really going to worry about the how's and why's of it later. Ideas are formING, but are far from formED.
Anyway, I appreciate your "criticism" or whatever...response. I hope this ends the action/reaction exchange between us, though, because it's pretty unsettling to me.
Hope all is well...summer here sucks.
livelifelove
drucilla
To: M.R.
From: D.B.B.
Subject: GOT YOU. Er.
08:44 PM 7/11/1998
Hey M -
I'm cringing. Just a little. I've gotten pretty far in transcribing old letters for to figure out the sequence of events that did make up my life (and, well, death sorta, too) those days. those years. I'm just wondering, basically, how dishonest it would be for me to make myself not quite so annoying when I actually go to write the book. Is that like what they call artistic license or is it just basically lying? I wanted to be as honest as possible, but, well, let's face it...I was an annoying brat a lot of the time. Now, I guess I can ask you for an outside persepctive...was it at least a charming kind of annoying? Because from what I'm reading, I'm amazed no one told me to go to hell. Actually...heh...maybe they did, and I just didn't pay any attention.
Anyway, I thought you wrote a really funny letter way back. Apparently, I had been getting holiier than thou with you about yr indulgences, and you wrote me a scathing letter beginning & ending with all this "dooood" speak. The strange thing is, I don't think I thought it was funny at the time. Damn. All those years I thought I had a sense of humor, and I was just as humorless as dried-up-old Jesse Helms. Heh. It made me laugh, though. Today it did, anyway.
Well, hey. I'm all confused and mixed up because Monk went and fell asleep at like 5 or so and it looks like he's out for the night. And I was all planning on loading him up in the backpack and wandering around the neighborhood now that the sun is setting and it's only 80 some degrees instead of 100 some. Bleck. So now I don't know what to do with myself other than clean the house (double-bleck.) and L's all at work and mad at me besides because I got mad at him because he acted like a jerk when he woke up. Actually, he's not mad at me, but I'm doing that thing where I'm supposed to be mad at him, only I'm not realy but I'm too stubborn to call him up and admit that I was really not ever REALLY mad at him. How old am I? heh. Oh, hooboy. It's a reg-i-lar hootenanny around here.
You know aht it's like, though? It's like L and I could have superpowers together if we would just quit the fucking bickering. You know? Ah, I guess that's what time is for. Healing two scabs into one scar. Yick. That's not a good analogy. Here's a famous line that I utterd at 7-11 about the state of the runny slurpee machine..."Uh, sir....there's too much pee and not enough slurp." Oh boy.
Again, I ask...
How old am I? I feel like I'm flying. I can pretend like I'm not really an adult when Monk is asleep. Usually when he's awake, too, but lately he's been ultra baby freak out boy and it drives me nuts. So it's nice to have a break even if it is disconcerting.
Oh. Thelonious.
Anyway...I hope you are doing well and enjoying life and being a grinny man and stuff. Tell me things.
livelifelove
drucilla
To: M.R.
From: D.B.B.
Subject: Re: GOT YOU. Er.
09:36 AM 7/15/1998
Hey you...Hey, don't worry about sounding like an editor. I'm being amazingly open to that with this project considering my usual snotty writer's attitude of "leave me alone and let me write it." I'm even actually applying method to this as opposed to just sitting down and pounding it out. What I'm doing is transcribing old letters, journals, and zine stuff as well as poetry and stuff from that era and from that I'm going to create a narrative through fabricated letters and journal entries. So, I think I'm going ot subtract the more esoteric angst...the more abstract stuff (because my journals backt hen are written in secret drucilla code that I doubt anyone would be interested in reading much less understanding.) As far as my target audience...hmmm. I mean, I don't htink I'm "targeting" anyone. I'm still pretty stubborn about writing for me, and if anyone happens to want to read and enjoy it, that's their problem. But I figure a lot of the small press people would be interested in it. I guess I'll see what happens when I finally get it out.
I disagree, though, with you assertion that adults are not interested in teen angst. Or maybe I'm just weird. But I'm really into teen angst. I think a lot of adults are fascinated with what is going on in the mind of a teen. Oh, I could be wrong. Who am I to say? I guess I work with adults, but they all act like snotty kids, anyway...even more so than my own snotty kid. Much more so.
By the way, how would I get in touch with D.A.? One of the good/bad aspects of reading/sifting through my past is remembering/reliving my past. He's one of the people I have not kept in touch with as much as I would like to. I hope he is doing well.
And I am glad to hear that you are doing well, also! I agree...it is nice for us to be in contact. You have always been one of my very favorite people on this planet that I have been in contact with, and it's nice to know that we can stay in touch. It is comforting. That constance. It makes me believe...you konw. That things can last forever. And that some things should.
OH, hey! I'm supposed to be in Chicago in October, and am probably going to attempt to bring the family along with, which should be a fun and interesting adventure. Do you think you might consider coming down for a visit? Or do you want me to make plans to go up and visit you? Either way, I'm going to see you and hug you and mess your hair or something. And I want Monk and L to meet you, as well. I know you will love them. I give L a lot of shit, but he's truly an amazing person. I know you will think so, too.
I'm rambling because I'm trying to look like I'm doign something here at work. Everyone is in a training class in the other room and every once in awhile the room erupts with laughter or applause. It's a time management training. One of those Covey things. That is, in fact, why I'm going to Chicago in October. They want to indoctrinate wme with the 7 habits stuff. Hey, I'm not going to complain about a free ride to my home town...but sometimes trainers are just so damn kooky.
Speaking of which, this kooky trainer got herself a BIG OLD raise the other day. It seems I was below the mid-line when they adjusted the pay scales for Tech Trainers, so they gave me a boosted percentage. Gosh, can you believe that little old me has a career. Heh. Another thing I wrote in a journal somewhere that you told me, and I think this was waaaaaaaay back before you even left Illinois...you told me that I wasnt' going to be anything when I grew up, I was just going to be someone's wife. I don't think you meant it or I took it as bad as it sounds, but I guess I'm all that...and more. Or something. Or, as my nephew says when encountering a suit on a plane with a laptop - I'm a "very important buisinessman."
anyway, life's fun. I love you. AND I'm thinking about you, too.
livelifelove
drucilla
To: TC
From: DBB
Subject: Lakeview Days
08:21 PM 7/15/1998
Wow...
The guy's name was Morty Tod (dead death) and I didn't recall him giving one of A's friends a VD scare. I do remember that his girlfriend was in some punk band, and he called her up one night so she could talk to me and she told me to take care of him because he was prone to getting in trouble. Did he just up and disappear one day, or did he actually say goodbye?
And that German guy...the thing I remember about him was that we all piled into my car one night. I mean, about 6 or 7 of us in that Celica. I think we might have been going to dinner or a show or something, but he refused to ride in a car, so he just rode his bike. Hey, man...at least we were carpooling!
Anyway...hope all is well in t-land. It's strange..I think the more I remember of my past, the more appreciation I have for myself in the present. I feel like I'm getting stronger and more "me." I've had a difficult time with being strong and satisfied since...well...maybe the baby? Maybe before. It's difficult to tell. We'll see what happens. If you remember anything else, or if you have any old letters or anything, let me know.
Otherwise, I'd love to keep corresponding. It's nice to know that you are out there and that you are still t.
Take care...
livelifelove
drucilla
To: Magpie
From: Drucilla
Subject: Re: not sure
08:37 PM 7/15/1998
I thought that story was/is so incredibly beautiful, that I would like to put it in banal probe. It's pretty much what I'm trying to get at with the whole true story idea. Let me know if that's OK with you, and if it's OK for me to post it through banal e-mail as well...
oh, me...
Well, I never thought that you were mousy back in the Kinko's days. I remember I did my first poetry reading in your presence, do you remember that? Gosh, I was scared to death. I don't even remember what I read or what the response was. Actually, I do remember that people were polite and applauded, and I read soemthing immensely personal and emotional. That kind of stuff doesn't go over at poetry readnigs around here. You have to entertain rather than be honest. Whatever.
Hey, I'm glad to know that you are still writing. I didn't know you were a writer when you lived in Chicago, but all of the stuff you have sent me...all of the zines and all of the words have been thoroughly wonderful to read. What do you make of the whole writer's group situation, though? I guess I"m a cynical recluse, but I can't seem to get into the idea of hanging out with other writers. Probably because writing to me is the end result of feeling, rather than the other way around. I dunno. Not to put myself on this pedestal or anything...sort of the opposite, actually. I've never really considered myself a "writer." Although I'm having to examine that possibility because I am actually working on a book. And I'm actually "workig" on it, not just letting words happen, but planning and scripting. I mean, it's still based on reality like everything else I do is, but it's more than that and I'm hoping it will be a nice, thick book that will bring me and those I love and those who are interested in reading it to a better understanding of who and why I am. I dunno...those are pretty lofty goals.
Oh, Magpie. You DO have legs.
Take care...
rollingly
drucilla
To: M.R.
From: D.B.B.
Subject: OH...
09:08 PM 7/15/1998
You know...when you told me of Dave's wise words, I was thinking (and probably out loud, which is the scary part, but that's another issue altogether) "You idiot, M, you already told me about that in a letter YEARS ago." And then I realized you HADN'T told me about that letter...that in fact, Dave himself had told me about the letter. that I have seen dave more recently than you have. In fact, he came to my mom's house one summer when I was on vacation from Austin I think. I'm pretty sure it was, yes, it was springtime, actually...must've been the spring before the winter of my 25th birthday party. He brought his lovely wife along and you were supposed to have come down, too, and we were all bummed that you didn't because we all wanted to see you. But I think you were dealing with many of your own problems then. Damn. I'm sure he gave me his address then, but I dont' have it. I tried to search on the internet but too many Dave A's to call each one. How likely is it that his parents live in the same place?
In fact, I saw S, too. I'm not sure if it was before I left Chicago or on a visit to Chicago, but she was working at a little gift store near the Music Box Theater, I think. I think I went to the theater to see HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER. And she recognized me. I couldn't believe that she recognized me. Of course, I never recognize anyone, so that kind of thing always amazes me. So, hmmmm....that's strange. We need to find them! Maybe I should just start calling all of the A's...heh.
Uh-oh...someone has decided to abolish bedtime. OK, good...he's just looking at his books. That kid is OBSESSED with Mr. Brown Can Moo...Can you? He can't get enough of that book. I'm geginning to worry that his speech development is being impaired because all he wants to say is "Mooo." "Knock knock" Buzz", etc. He's learning his alphabet, though. Maybe he just has a different plan for how he's going to learn how to talk than we do...
Anyway, I'm including that letter that made me laugh. I have many things that you sent me, but not all, unfortunately. There are gaps in my collection that make me feel really bad. And curious. I don't know where they went. I was (I thought) always careful to save things. I do remember leaving a box of what I thought were zines that I didn't want anymore behind at my old house here in Austin...I hope there weren't letters in that box. Going through old letters, though. It's not easy. I'm trying to get in contact with an old pen pal name Y from MA who pretty much saved me from insanity that summer of 1989-1990. Pretty much just to thank him. I don't think I realized then how very important it was to be incontact with someone outside of my self-made world of shit. Heh. Well, I do remember looking forward to mail every day, and he wrote me about once a week during that time, in spite of the fact that he didn't have enough money to eat. I blocked out a lot of that stuff. It was like when I moved to Lubbock I severed most of my ties, and that did not help me at all. I can't say I regret the move, because everything that happened from that move brings me to my present life. But it would have been a lot better if I could have gotten here without having gone there.
I think I'm rambling again. I better get going to bed b/c I have to be in San Antonio early tomorrow. Look t that, Monk just put himself to bed. what a trooper.
livelifelove
drucilla
To: random zine submission dude
From: drucilla b. blood
Subject: Re: I have a contribution
12:39 PM 7/16/1998
Hi, rzsd...
Thanks for sending your story for inclusion in banal probe. Unfortunately, I am declining your offer to allow me to print the story. Let me wxplain why.
What I try to do with banal probe is present ideas from a person standpoint and, rather than outright telling people what they should feel or think about the story, the reader should get a sense of what the author fels without being hit over the head with dogma. I do appreciate what you have gone through in losing your friend to heroin. I, too, have lost friends to drugs and other forms of suicide. In fact, I'm pretty anti-drug myself. what I would like to see from you, if you would like to have your work distributed or printed by me, is more of an exploration of you YOU felt about the death, and less proselytizing on how others should feel about drugs and alcohol. Tell us abuot how your life has been impacted without trying so hard to convince us that drugs are bad.
What I've found in my life is that there really is no truly good or evil thing or person. What happens is people use things or people (drugs included) in ways that are harmful to them sometimes. Nothing is plack and whit. I think you know this, too. By telling your readers that they must or should feel a certain way about drug use, all you do is turn them off and make them feel as if they are being preached to/at.
Anyway, I hope this all makes sense to you. I would love to see more from you or even see this story again in a less obtrusive form. Thanks for your interest, and take good care & good luck with your life.
livelifelove
drucilla
To: TC
From: DBB
Subject: Re: Literary Chatter.
10:51 PM 7/30/1998
Hey T...
No. I haven't read any McCullers, nor any of the others you mentioned. But I am always open for new and interesting suggestions for reading material. Not that there's a lack of it around here. L can read a 500-page book in a day, so he is usually the one who goes out and buys books, and I try to catch up but will never be successful. So, normally I don't actually "choose" my reading material, but sometimes it's even better that way, as I tend to get in ruts of reading the same author (*cough* Kerouac *cough*.) Right now, though, I'm reading a DH Lawrence book - Women In Love - and thoroughly enjoying it. He has an incredible way of describing motion, and there was a description of a cat's actions which lasted for a paragraph or two that was just amazing.
I'm also reading a book about some residents of the Henry Horner tenement homes back in 1988. It's strange to read of that area of Chicago from around the same time we were living in relative comfort on Clifton Avenue. The book is a somewhat condescending account of a mother and two of her 7 children. While I could do without the patronizing viewpoint of the author, it is interesting to read. There was a shooting in the projects around the same time as the whole Laurie Dann "incident," and the comparison between the way the media covered it and the way the victims were treated...well, it was, unfortunately, not really surprising to me but thought-provoking nonetheless.
Other than that, I am attempting to read as many of the zines that I have backlogged as humanly possible. I am starting to do a quarterly review publication to distribute with bAnal Probe and Lime Green. There will be a new Lime Green Bulldozer out this month, and I'm not...oh, I just have so much work to do on it yet. I'm going to borrow the scanner from work this weekend in hopes that I can finish it. It's going to be one of those caffeine weekends.
Walking through the neighborhood today, I was amazed at the amount of people who are watering their lawns with abandon. Some of them have the sprinklers set up so much of the water splashes onto the concrete and runs off into the street. We are at like stage 3 drought alert, and there are communities in close proximity to us who are really close to having water rationed. Stupid fucks. So, I might not be able to use tap water for drinking water by the end of the summer, but by gum, my neighbors' grass will be green as, er, um, GRASS. *sigh*.
Anyway, that's my rant for the day. I hope you are doing well.
livelifelove
drucilla
A Good Day
July 3, 2005
(my favorite song of late)
It's always pretty after an apocalypse
So we strolled past the flowers
Planted by the bloods and crips
And they chose white lilies
Cause they're such wacky kids
It was a good day
Damn right, it was a good day
Almost all the hypocrites and demagogues were gone
Like the sacramental moment
In a last poets song
And bayard rustin came back
Just to bitch slap farrakhan
It was a good day
Damn right, it was a good day
Burned to the ground
We knew it would
burst into bloom
Healthy and good
So we struck that match
And went back to sleep
Lee atwater was on the corner
Turning tricks
Clutching the failed box set
Of his heartfelt blues licks
He said "I think I liked the ghetto better
When it was sick"
It was a good day
Damn Right, I gotta say it was a good day
Razed to the ground
We knew it would
burst into bloom
Healthy and good
Bayard Rustin smiled
And went back to sleep
Good morning, America
(smart went crazy)
Summer Mix
July 3, 2005
I spent a lot of time yesterday on the summer mix, making three versions before I had the song list and the order of songs down. Please email me if you would like for me to mail you a copy. Paypal donations or trades accepted.
Here's the track listing:
The Decemberists — July, July!
Cibo Matto — Flowers
Dog-Faced Hermans — Madame la Mer
Cat Power — American Flag
Beauty Pill — Lifeguard in the Wintertime
Rasputina - Brand New Key
REM — The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight
Smart Went Crazy - A Good Day
Fugazi — Burning
The Clash — (White Man) in Hammersmith Palais
Screeching Weasel — Hey Suburbia
Cletus — 8 Ways to Hate you
Sweet Honey in the Rock — I Love to Laugh
Billie Holiday — Georgia on My Mind
Beth Gibbons — Sand River
Portishead — Mysterons
Beauty Pill — Nancy Medley, Girl Genius, Age 15
Flaming Lips — It’s Summertime
Fiona Apple — Mistake
The English Beat — Stand Down Margaret
Operation Ivy — These Boots are Made for Walking
I forced myself to sleep until 10.
July 3, 2005
Because lately I've been getting up at 7 or 8.
I'm having a wonderful kid-free, human-contact-free weekend this weekend. And it's a long weekend, too. I have some work to do, and lots of work around the house, but mainly I'm just kicking back and going along at my own pace. Listening to loud music, going through boxes of old stuff, cleaning the house, making plans. Reading.
I had a run-in with L when he came to pick up the children on Friday. He was trying to pull his own "up is down" routine on me, and then tried to pull his "You Are The Origin Of All Arguments And Other Bad Things" routine. This kind of thing usually distresses me for hours, particularly when he does it right before he takes the children, leaving me here alone to deal with the psychic aftermath. Today, I was laughing about it within an hour.
I was laughing because if I didn't laugh, I would feel sorry for him. And pity really isn't a productive way of looking at the situation. However, that doesn't stop me from feeling pity through the laughter. Because it *is* sad. He has no idea...or refuses to know...how much empathy I have for him. How gently I treat his image with the children. OUR children. How very important I feel it is to make sure they know that he and I DID love each other at one time, and the fact that we don't now has nothing to do with them, or even with HIM. Sure, in my mind I place much of the blame of the failure of our relationship on L, but the reasons for that blame are too complex for ME to understand, much less the children. I have been more than fair about him with the children, and I have been sincere in my expressions. I do not understand why he insists on making things worse by telling the children that I am the one who starts all of the arguments, by implying I am a liar while holding the youngest child in his arms. There are so many names I could call him.
But the humor in this is that he goes to such lengths to make me out to be the bad person. The humor is that after years of being told by him that I am an irrational person, I recognize now that I am actually a very logical person. Maddeningly logical. The humor is that the more distance he puts between us with the friction, the more I dislike him, the more I love myself. The less I have to deal with him, the more I appreciate who I am and what I have made of all of this. I walk away from these clashes with him now with a brief period of stumbling through the old questions "What if up really IS down? What if no one likes me? What if it IS all my fault? What if I really AM a horrible parent? And sometimes I have to call someone to right myself. This time, however, I just thought back on my week. I thought about all of the laughter and joy and fun we all had all week long. I thought about the conversations I have had with my children, the progress that Monk is making, the independence Cole is taking on. I thought about the hugs and kisses and sweetness, and I realized that I no longer need HIM to validate the love my children have for me. I no longer need to hear HIS voice judging the job I am doing. Little by little, I hear his voice less and less while I'm making decisions that I know provide a healthy amount of independence for my children.
I know that at the same time this might be driving him crazy, I am finally being driven sane.