Wyrd

Food, Or What I Buy

2010-10-09T18:16:00.000-07:00

I love saving money with coupons and sales. I cook at home a lot, and I know that saves money (we eat out maybe twice a month, period). But the fact of the matter is, I'll never ever be one of those women who consistently every week buys $200 worth of groceries for $20. Let me tell you why.

1) I won't buy stuff like Hamburger Helper or any other pre-made, convenience stuff. Have you seen the chemicals list in that crap???? No. Just...no.

2) I like to use fresh, local ingredients. So, this means I actually buy produce, often from a farmer's market or whatnot.

3) In addition to number 2, we also in this family get in our daily requirement of fruits and veggies, and only some of them come from frozen packs/boxes.

4) Milk isn't free. I can get really cheap other dairy products, but milk is at best on sale. There are four of us. I also cook with milk.

5) Part of how I don't get bored with cooking is by trying new recipes, and I am not limited to one or two ethnic cuisines. So, this means I have to buy spices sometimes that I do not have on hand. Thank goodness for World Market.

6) Meat can be on sale--and I only buy meat when it's on sale--but it's rarely free with coupons, too.

But when I look at how much I buy compared to what I spend, I know I am saving a buttload of money. We eat like kings in this house. We stay within our budget. And, additionally, the meals I prepare are typically totally from scratch. So, we have this "minimal crap in our food" effect that makes me happy. I'm quite content with the results, and I leave the true coupon ladies with their tables full of "LOOK what I BOUGHT for this amount of money!!!" to themselves. When I stare at what they've brought home, I often realize...ew. I wouldn't eat that Hamburger Helper for all the money in the world. Yup, very happy with where we're at right now!

What Makes Me Laugh

2010-10-05T16:40:00.001-07:00

I had a woman ask me while I was at work, "Can you recommend to me a nice White Zinfandel?"

That's the sort of thing that makes a wine professional try very, very hard not to laugh when she hears it.

Now please don't get me wrong--I am content that White Zin exists. I'm more of a wine geek rather than a wine snob; I don't feel the need to bash people's tastes. If they like it, good on them. When you have folks intimidated by wine or who first try a very dry red wine, they would likely never return to sipping on wine without the sweet, easy-drinking qualities of a White Zin. That's its purpose. Great.

But a nice White Zin? Here's a cherry Kool-Aid. I threw in some vodka for ya. There you go! White Zin was an accident, a trauma accomplished by a stuck fermentation of a Red Zin. It's not going to be the top recommendation I would give to anybody at any time. The wine wasn't built to be a fine, long-finish, well-balanced, complex glass of beauty to savor. It's to swill, laugh, and enjoy. A bottle of White Zin you'd enjoy, ma'am? Yes, I can recommend that. But a NICE bottle of White Zin? Well, only if I redefine the word.

Now, if she had just asked me for a nice sweet wine, my list would have been endless....

Texting

2010-09-14T15:55:00.000-07:00

I never saw the point of the texting function on a phone. But, see, I hate the phone so very much...it wasn't hard for my daughter to get me to see the wisdom of being able to type out a quick message instead of call. It's like instant email! Anywhere! All the time! So, now we dish out extra money for a family unlimited texting plan.

I will admit that it's a lot of fun. And it somehow pleases me that my daughter loves to message me no matter where I am. My daughter is in middle school, and she still loves her mother! YUSSS!

This is an example of a typical exchange:

Kira: Before I forget, Jared and I have a dentist's apointment at 3p tomorrow. We might not be home when you get here.

Ari: Will you leave the key under the mat?

K: No. You will have to access your D&D rogue's skill and pick the lock. Don't forget your thieves' tools.

A: Ok.

K: or there could be a key. Dunno. It'll be a surprise!

K: (Ari sends me a "vote for chic fil a cows" picture) Vote for them for what?

A: Vote them for presidential candidates!!!!

K:Why not meeeeee? I am clearly more awesome.

A: Because I don't want you to be shot and you have no political experience.

K: ...it seems to me that having political experience does not make a candidate more competent. And the cows don't have political experience, either. But I can go for not being shot.

A: Yeah, there are always more cows that can run chic fil a, so if they get shot it doesn't matter.

K: Exactly. Plus, we can at least eat the cows! :)

A: I love you mom!!!

K: You love me...when I make you beef, not turkey tacos :) (SIDE NOTE: this is a reference to my mom making her turkey tacos instead of beef while we were in Mexico. She was not happy with that artistic choice)

A: Yes definitely!!! But I also love you when you give me cookies.

So, this is what I can now do with my daughter even when she's at a friend's house or riding home on the bus. We amuse each other. And I will have you note that she uses proper grammar and spelling whenever she texts. I have taught her well. Haha!

Yeah, I guess this unlimited texting thing is ok in my book.

Baby Ducklings

2010-05-24T18:17:00.000-07:00

We have a pool here at the apt. complex. It's a rather nice one with a little teeny circle-shaped island in the middle. We all love to swim in it...including the ducks.

A duck came into the pool about a month or so ago. She thought the pool looked awesome, and while our backs were turned, she built up a nest. Then she laid her eggs, and boom! We had a duck in the pool. Thankfully, federal regulations have them as protected, so nobody was allowed to do anything to that duck. I had no problem swimming in the pool knowing a duck had also taken a dive because I had been raised on a lake. I've swum with frogs, ducks, fish, snakes, and alligators. A) I'm alive and B) I never got sick from that. This time, I'm swimming with a duck with some chlorine in the water. Nope. I didn't care.

What astounded me, though, was the day the ducklings hatched.

On any given day, my leasing agents concentrated on difficult renters. Or broken dumpsters. Or rent that was due. Or the fact that the doggie poo station had no bags. Or bigger issues, of course, like their salaries...the state of the US economy...our troops in Afganistan...huge stuff, right?

But the day the ducklings hatched, the leasing agents (and me, and several other tenants) became focused only on the ducklings. Yes, small children were starving to death all over the world. Troops were dying far away from American soil. The oil pouring into the Gulf of Mexico was killing wildlife and fishing. Children were being abused. Animals were being maltreated. But nothing else mattered...there were ducklings.

New life.

Small, fuzzy, peeping cute balls of fluff.

Calls were made to wildlife to get them to a safe place. The staff hung out near the pool all day, coaxing them with bread along a ramp of wood back to their nest that they could not reach without assistance. After all, momma duck wasn't bright and picked out a place that she could get to with a hop, but tiny dark balls of duckling could never access. The maintenence men, the leasing agents, even their boss...I watched as this became their total obsession until they were safely placed in a new location.

The world stood still for those ducklings. They taught us that new life comes when we don't expect it, and they showed us that if we focus on tiny aspects of our existence--and take joy from them--we will always ebb and flow through life with happiness in our hearts.

Thank you, ducklings. I hope you grow big and fat and old, too.

Moving, Moving, Moving

2010-04-24T17:55:00.000-07:00

Well, I know that Grant felt that my last post was an April Fool's joke. That's understandable since, well, um, Grant really knows me and knows how adverse I am to being less than a hedonistic slug. The fact is, though, that the strangeness continues.

I love doing my swords class.

I love biking.

I now am dancing around to whatever song I hear, and leap up to do whatever I want to do around the house.

I love swimming.

So there you go. The other day, I flexed my muscles to the kids as a joke, and they screeched, "MOM! You have REAL MUSCLES!" Wow. Yeah, I do, and I never have. Interesting. My energy has increased, and my mood (which is typically pretty good) has improved even more.

Can I keep this up? I have no idea. But I DO know that right now, as it goes, I love reclaiming my body one pound at a time. I've stopped at 10 lbs lost for two weeks, but this is one of those moments when I realize that it's still weight lost...but it's weight converted from fat to muscle. I can kick your ass and your uncle's, too ;) I am having so much fun practicing my sword! What happened? My body is tighter, more skilled, more precise. I'm thrilled.

On another strange note, I realized this last week that I'm a great cook. Yeah, yeah, those of you who have eaten my food have likely never doubted this ;) It's a long story. It invoves my sister's input on my mom's cooking, others who have craved this or that which I've fixed or asked for my recipes. But the end result is, when my sister tossed at me a pile of asparagus and said, "Do something with this," I was able to instantly look at her refrigerator/pantry and throw together something off the cuff without any recipe that everybody loved. I can look at my own refrigerator/pantry and decide what I'm going to do, recipe or not. I guess I CAN cook. That is awesome.

And I've been writing again.

And Alex plus the kids are still totally awesome. YUSSSS!

The only downside lately is that my cat chewed through the wire for our keyboard, and we had to use a backup keyboard for this computer. Ok, that seriously sucked. But 20 bucks is the cost of that keyboard, and pets cost you money. Oh well. It happens. Do pets chew through wires??? I have never had a pet who liked to do that, nor petsitted for somebody who did. Wires? WHY?

Yup, other than that, life is good. Sure, we don't have enough money to jet off to France to see Alex's family, but how many familes would like to have the only problem being, "We can't just fly off to France this year!" Yeah. So, I'm ok with life right now. I'm better than ok. Life is excellent!

The World Is Coming to an End

2010-04-01T04:58:00.001-07:00

For the last four decades on this planet, I have been well-known as a hedonist. I love good food. I love good wine. I love reading and video games. All of these activities can be done from a seat, and that was fine by me. My hyper metabolism overcame all, and I still fit into whatever clothes I wanted. It's not like I'm lazy nor have anything against moving, though. I used to hike regularly before the kids were born, and when it's summer, I love to swim and splash in the water. But exercising? You have to be kidding me. That's crazy talk.

However, after abusing my really good metabolism for many years, it started to complain. IT complained. Not me. I would never complain that an excellent metabolism that let me eat a good 1000 calories over what I should eat without gaining weight cut it back to only 500 calories of overeating. That is still very lucky. I have too many friends who can eat right and exercise to no avail. If I had their metabolism, I'd be in competition for the largest woman in the world with how I eat and don't move. Note to naturally skinny people: you're naturally skinny, so don't go around pointing fingers at folks and telling them they just need to eat less and move around more. It doesn't work for everybody. But for me, I just slowly became aware that I was gaining weight. This shocked me because two years ago, all I did was cut out sodas, eat more fruits and veggies, and drink more water to lose about 20 lbs in total. I lost that over the course of one year. I felt good. I was able to wear the same dress that I had on when Alex met me. But then in the last year, I gained it all back...just as slowly. I can't pinpoint any changes in habits that caused it. I guess I'm just getting old :P

Anyway, when I arrived back on my doorstep from a visit to Grant in January, the scale told me that I weighed the most I've ever weighed without being pregnant. Shocked, I had to think about this one for a while. It took me a full month to have it really set in. One thing I contemplated was...at what point do I say, I don't care if I'm gaining weight? At what point does somebody start gaining weight (at least those of us who have control over these things) and just say, screw it, I'll continue to gain weight? If I continued to ignore this, would I then be a 300 lb woman that would travel to France with her family only to have French people point at me and giggle, "AMERICAN!" and run off? Would I get diabetes like my dad? The only reason why my dad got diabetes at 65 rather than 45, said the doctors, was that he had eaten heathily and exercised for decades (yes, Grant, I know these sorts of general rules don't apply to you, but they do to my family :P). It runs in my family. Do I want to get diabetes in 5 years? I needed to look back at my life and figure out what I was deciding I wanted for it based on what I was doing. This was very, very difficult for me because...well, see the earlier part about being a hedonist.

So, by the end of February, I decided to embark upon heathier eating and trying to find a way to exercise. I started out by adjusting to the concept of DAILY exercise. I ride a bike every day, and if the weather is bad, I do Wii Fit Plus instead. I took several of my son's TaeKwon-Do classes and last night, I took my first swords class. I began doing curls with 10 lb weights. As far as my diet goes, I cut back on sweets and started to make sure that the carbs I consumed were largely whole-grain (100% whole wheat bread and brown rice, but I admit to keeping my pasta not whole grain). I cut back on wine intake. I've already lost 7 lbs. Things jiggle less. I put on a pair of jeans I haven't been able to wear since last year (being a midget means that 7 lbs loss is like 14 lbs for a taller person :P). My energy level is up. And most shockingly, I rather like feeling like I could kick twice as much ass as usual.

I like what this moving around thing is doing to my body.

I never thought I'd say that. Ever. And in all my years on this planet, other than really enjoying swimming for a long time, I never have mentioned anything even close to this concept before now. But there we go. The world is coming to an end. I not only exercise to move my body but exercise because it's enjoyable.

There. I said it.

The Old and the New

2010-03-03T07:06:00.000-08:00

When I was young, I thought romance consisted of sweet words, flowers, chocolates, bubble baths, and massages. Anything that involved quiet time with my loved one wherein he doted upon me or showed that he thought of me all day was exactly what I wanted and expected. Ironically, even though my viewpoint on what is romantic has changed, I still DO get all of those things, constantly, from Alex. He has no idea that after being married for three and a half years, we're no longer newlyweds and he should start to slack off, scratch his ass, and drink beer while playing a video game (he isn't into sports), ignoring the rest of the family as we go about our business. If anything, he's even more involved. So, I get the best of what I thought was romance when I was young...and currently.

What romance becomes:

Vacuuming the house, then mopping it

Taking the kids to school because it's below freezing outside, and my circulation disorder makes it so that I get dangerously cold easily

Cleaning up cat barf, dog barf, and child barf cheerfully and without complaint...or even being asked

Cleaning up the kitchen right after dinner, every dinner, every night

Spending all his free time playing a game with Jared...then playing with Ari...then finding time for me before he falls into bed, too

Hunting up books I've never heard of but he just knows I'd like...then buying them for me

Making me tea and toast when I feel like crap, then turning around and taking care of the kids so that I can stay in bed

Listening to me...intently, with interest...about my babbles on wine, food, the world I created that is the beginnings of my newest story, the amount I saved with super double coupons, how the cat turned the most hilarious things into toys today, or how adorable Jared was in his martial arts class...anything, everything

Willingly waking up at 4a when I can't sleep, even though I'm trying not to wake him up, and rubbing my head while talking softly to me so I can fall back asleep

Always remembering to scrape the ice off my car's windshield because he leaves the house first and he wants me to not have to do it

Practicing martial arts with Jared

Reading a book Ari's reading just because she wants him to read it, too

Remembering to turn on the heating pad under Jared's sheets before he goes to bed so he's not too cold on the coldest nights

Patiently filming Ari and her best friend's antics for a science project for school

****

Oh, I could go on and on. But the truth is, romance when we are older is a much more practical, yet still magical, concept. Every day I am romanced by this man, showed to be special, made to feel loved...and it's not just the flowers/chocolates/backrubs/bubble baths/lit candles and petals strewn on my sheets. I'm obnoxiously lucky and get that, too, but it's the every day little things that he does that shows me what real romance has become.

Why I'm Going to Hell

2009-12-30T17:54:00.000-08:00

In all actuality, I'm sure there are a ton of reasons. This is just one of them.

I live in an apartment. One of the items an apartment dweller quickly adjusts to tolerate is the noise of his or her neighbors. In this complex, the noise is far less than any other place I've been. The insulation is simply better. Usually, I choose a top floor apartment because I don't want anybody walking on my head. Here, if you want a three bedroom, you have to be on the first or second floor--never third. So, reluctantly I took a first floor apartment when we moved to this place.

After we got here, we discovered a particular joy we did not expect: the upstairs neighbors directly over us have a daughter one year older than Ari, a son the same age as Jared, and the whole family is probably even more geeky than us. Bonus! Ari loves their daughter; Jared loves their son. Then came the sadness...the parents were having extreme marital problems. The mom had talked about finding another job and moving out while they tried to reconcile. Their son cried, and I felt bad for them as they struggled through this large obstacle.

However, since both the mom and dad were sane and interested in working on the marriage, they had a chance at getting back together. The economy was such that the mom couldn't find a job. The dad started stepping up the romance and taking her out for dates. I smiled as I saw them actually hang out with each other and spend time with one another.

Two weeks ago, I was home and on my computer in our master bedroom when I realized I heard a sound I had not heard since they had moved in here this summer: squeeking bed springs. I applauded out loud and giggled. Yay! They were screwing! They were working things out!

Then everything ended five minutes later, and I sighed. This is the part wherein I probably will go to hell. I cursed out loud, "DAMN! NOW I know why you guys are having marital problems! Dude, this isn't going to fix anything!"

Five minutes. If that's all she's gotten the whole time, I think she still counts as a virgin, even though they have two kids together. Five minutes! Awful! Poor woman!

:)

No, Grant Has Not Killed Me

2009-09-21T19:12:00.001-07:00

I just post on Facebook more than anywhere else these days. But Grant reminded me recently that if I didn't post here, folks would think I had been killed by him. So let me reassure you that he's not killed me. In fact, he's coming to visit all of us this weekend. THEN he might kill us, but he's held off on it for years, so...maybe he'll wait 'til next year to do the job ;)

I like company. I'm glad that Grant is coming to visit us this weekend. Two weekends ago, some ex students of mine came up for a weekend of geek hedonism. That was hellacious fun! We've also had other friends visit us since we moved here (many more than visited us in Easley). Alex and I like that because we're social folks. A big bonus of moving up here is that folks want to visit us...when we live outside of a major city ;) And that's cool!

The other bonus so far is that we're making it off of Alex's salary even though I am not employed full time here. I have the part time job at Total Wine, with the best wine staff in the business, which is why I do a weekend a month at the Greenville store even if I don't live there anymore. Bu that's it for now, and we're doing it. I might teach in the spring at a local tech college for a couple of classes to ease our bills, but I don't have to do full time. I don't have to. Wow. That's an odd feeling!

Anyway, we're doing great and Grant is killing other people, so no worries about us ;)

Wow! This thing still works!

2009-06-17T16:47:00.000-07:00

It's been rough lately, but I remain chipper because in less than two weeks, I shall finally be moved up into the same apartment as my husband. How awesome is that? We got this GREAT deal on a fantastic apartment--brand new, three bedrooms, two bath, 1450 sq ft, granite countertops in the kitchen with a kitchen island and a pantry...whooohoo! I've never lived in anything this nice. Honestly. There's a movie theatre there wherein they show movies periodically. There's a large pool with a fireplace at one end and a tropical island in the middle. The mailboxes are at the foot of every building, so there's no need to go to one end of the complex to a central mail place. There's a huge playground. My place has an actual laundry room instead of a laundry closet. Man, it's awesome.

Alex had to check out the place for us and sign paperwork as I was at the AP conference. The bubbly salesclerk told Alex, "I just KNOW your wife will love this place! If she doesn't, you can tell her that she's allowed to come in here and SLAP me!" Alex looked at her, blinked, and replied, "Well, see, you don't know my wife. She'd actually come in here and do that...but lucky for you, I think she's going to love the place." Haha! Yup, Alex knows me :)

Both schools the kids are going to are fantastic. They will be taking a huge step up from where we were from, but that's good--they won't be as bored. Poor Jared still thinks a 97% in any subject is "bad." He needs to be more challenged.

The hardest issue we've had to face in the last month has been the death of our cat, Chian, at the age of 17. He had diabetes, failing kidneys, a bladder infection that kept coming back...we know the miracle is that he spent from Sept. until recently with us. The vet thought he'd die by Christmas. But he was happy, happy, happy all the way until the last week of his life, and we had to decide to put him to sleep. Now, some of you out there aren't cat lovers, so you're saying, "what's the big deal?" I reply, "FUCK YOU."

Ok, perhaps I should elaborate.

I have a dog and a cat who are still with us, and I love them both. I do understand what it's like to love a dog. Some dog folks can't get it when somebody loves a cat. Fuck you. Some folks don't get it when somebody loves any animal, cat or dog. Please go die and save us from your presence. No really. Go die.

When Chian wandered up to our door as a stray in the winter of 1992-93, I felt sorry for him. I put out food for him. And then, a few weeks later, I got a good chuckle as I realized that at least THREE other households had done the same for him. This was one clever, streetwise kitty. He walked up to us as an adolescent, full of purrs and cuddles, complete with an ear that had a tiny piece missing from it. We always wondered how that happened.

I had promised the ex we would never go over two cats. Well, Chian won over his heart, and HE made the decision to take him on as a third cat. That's right--my ex, the person who until that point really only understood dogs, realized how special this kitty was.

Whenever we went for a hike or a long walk, Chian was there, and we didn't even need a leash. He'd follow us the whole way out. If we did something he didn't want us to do, like walk along a river (he wasn't fond of water), he'd meow the whole way...but still follow us. He cuddled with us on the sofa, the bed, at our feet while we cooked or did other chores. This cat was awesome. When I took a bath, he'd always be concerned that the water monster would eat me, so he'd hop up on the edge of the tub and pat my shoulder periodically, meowing, concerned.

He gave the same consideration to Ariana when she was born. She had colic, and the other two cats at that time would run away as she cried, fleeing upstairs. Chian would stay with me and walk back and forth with me, meowing. When I finally sat down, he'd leap up onto the arm of the chair, meowing more, patting Ari's little shoulder reassuringly as she screamed. No shit.

Chian also told us when I was pregnant both times. He only did this twice, but right around the time implantation occured, he would curl up next to my tummy and take his little furry paw and pat my belly. Both times, he was spot on. Good kitty.

He was there every night in my bed, all the way until his arthritis took over.

He would lie on my paperwork, come when he was called every single time until he became too deaf, and follow me about the place with enthusiasm. Every time I opened up the refrigerator until two weeks before he died, he'd stick his head into the thing and meow, "Chicken? Please?"

The kids could pull out his fur, walk on him, hug him too tightly, and otherwise do things that would make me feel he could definitely strike back...but he never did because he loved them. He'd just purr. And wait hopefully for the day when they were too old to do such things.

There's lots more. All I can do, though, is just say that Chian was better than just about any pet, cat/dog/hamster/horse that you can possibly name. He loved his family, and he made us all love him back. So here we are, with two kids who have never known a day without this loving cat curling up next to them...following them everywhere...coming to them when they had a hard day and wanted to cry into his fur...suddenly having to navigate this world without their best friend.

And so am I.

Really, if you don't get it, fuck you. You're not the kind of person I want in my life anyway. That cat was worth more than you. But for the rest of you who understand...yeah, well, you'll know exactly how odd it feels to turn around and not see him there.

In addition to Chian's loss, we had a Uhaul back into Alex's parked car. I accidentally sliced my finger nearly off with a pull top lid, and had to go to the hospital for stitches and a tetanus shot. Alex had his wisdom teeth pulled, and this aggrivated a tooth behind them, and it turns out to be also a cavity that had to be fixed. Whatever. Crappy month.

But it's all going to be better now. We found this great apartment. I will be able to be with my husband every night. The kids will have a better school. And all of us remaining now are healthy and happy, including our goofy-sweet dog and our skittish kitty who is stepping up to the plate. Firepaw Mercutio somehow, somehow realizes that all of us miss the other kitty, and he does too. So he's being more social and loving nowadays to help out. Blandine the doggy is clinging more, too. We have each other, and we can pay our bills. And if I didn't know saddness, how could I ever appreciate what wonderful things I have in my life????

So, we look onwards to July. It's so very good. And it's just going to get better.

Think Happy Thoughts

2009-04-16T16:42:00.001-07:00

I'm generally a happy person, and one of the bonuses I have in life is that I can focus on what's good rather than what's bad. That doesn't mean I can do it all the time, however.

The worst time, of course, was when my marriage failed with my ex. That was something like two years of depression before I cut loose slowly and surely with therapy and medication. Once stabilized, I was able to abandon both and resume my content life. I was 30 when it all fell apart and 33 by the time I got out and felt better. The previous incident was when I first went off to college. I was 17,and if I look back...ug...well, that depression was directly related to my ex (whom I was dating at the time) too. Should have been a clue. The only other major depression streak I ever hit up was from 14-15. I figure that one was hormones. I really hope Ari and Jared evade that one.

Any other time when I feel anxiety and sadness pretty much comes...and then goes. So, I know this one will go. All it will take is that realization that is so hard to swallow: you just can't waste time worrying over things you can't change. Eventually, it hits me, and then I sigh. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. And then it's gone.

Right now, though, I'm stuck in the worry mode! So, what's wrong?

1) My ex has never refinanced the house. In SC, this means I can do jack all about my credit rating related to said house until he refinances. I have explored all avenues of doing anything myself to get my name off of the old house; nothing will work. I suppose it's possible that if I had a wad of money to pay a lawyer, something might be done. But it'd take a huge wad considering my ex IS a lawyer. He tells me he'll get around to it, but it's been years and years and years. Meanwhile, he's hit upon financial difficulties, so he's missed a payment or two. My name is still on the account. And my credit rating has had a hard hit. One credit company at least put a note on my file that it's not my account legally. I have documentation to prove this whenever I apply for a mortgage (one day), a rental application, credit, whatever. But it's up to THEM to take this proof because my credit rating is shot. Several years of supporting two children off of $19k per year while my ex was unemployed...never ever having a late bill or missed payment...shot to hell because he's too lazy to get refinancing.

2) It took forever to get said ex to let me move up with the kids to Rock Hill. Now that he has, the move in June is daunting. How do I afford a mover when he's $2k behind in child support payments? He's already gotten his phone cut off and cable cut off; his electricity was cut off for a bit before he got that turned on. It's not like taking him to court would do anything. He just doesn't have the money.

3) Because I have essentially been a single parent for most of this semester--one with a part time job on top of her full time job--I'm behind on my grading. I should be grading now. It's stressful. I have no idea how I'm going to get it all done before the end of the term (but at least we're close to the end anyway!).

4) See #3 and understand why I'm incredibly low on sleep

5) My ex has not been able to get the kids much this term because his life has gone into the shitter. That's ok; I want my kids and miss them when they're over at his place for longer than 24 hrs. It's created more work, but I'm fine with that. What I'm not fine with is trying to hold it all together for weeks on end--meals from scratch for the kids, soccer practices, drama, chorus, prep work for school, tidying the house, laundry, bill paying--without any help, only for him to FINALLY be able to get them for a whole week and find out (because the school called me) that he decided oh what the hell, I don't feel so hot today so it's too rough for me to drive ten min to school to get the kids there. I'll just let them play hooky for the day!

6) And he hasn't filed his taxes nor filed for an extention. When the IRS comes after his house, there goes my credit rating for the rest of my life. Or seven years. Whatever comes first.

7) Grant went into the hospital again. Last time, he nearly died. This time, it was much quicker and less life threatening, but I can't help him because he lives in Atlanta. Wait--I think I should blame that one on him. He just needs to move his ass up to Rock Hill when we move there. But I still worry now that he's trying to manage his newly diagnosed diabetes.

8) Alex has to have his wisdom teeth pulled. Two of them are starting to get infected due to their position. There's no way around that. We have good dental ins., but it only pays for half. So, next month we have $1k for that...$660 for car ins...$200 for car property tax...and did I say my ex is paying me squat for child support?

9) I had an early miscarriage a while back (since I posted last). This traumatized me. I know that it was likely a very unviable pregancy for a variety of reasons, but I worry about even being able to GET pregnant at this age. Nobody deserves to raise an infant more than Alex. What if he doesn't get to experience that joy and it's my stupid body's fault? Damnit, I thought I handled it well when it happened, but the more time goes on, the more I get upset. And it's hard to get pregnant when you're away from each other Mon-Fri, you know? That won't change until the end of June. So, I treat every period as a personal failure...and I know I shouldn't. But there you go. I start a period, and I stare at the blood and curse in every fucking language I know (ok, that's just English and French, with one or two words in Spanish).

10) We won't even go into what's going on at Clemson.

11) And today? The topper. A girl in our apartment complex is now missing. I can't stop crying. It's a little girl whom Ariana and Jared love and have played with a lot, a very sweet girl. We don't know what happened, but she's now been missing for over four hours. You know what this means? My poor daughter and son will not be allowed out of this apartment without an armed escort. And I will be forced to go to jail if I figure out somebody actually did anything to Hayley.

SOOOO! There you go. But...I now have to do a quick inventory of that which is good to remind myself of the beauty of my life, even with whatever rain falls

1) Two awesome children who are smart, funny, and kind

2) A husband who puts all other men to shame--the single most selfless person I know. He makes me laugh, he makes my life easier, he loves Ari and Jared as his own kids, and he'd do anything for all of us

3) A 17 yr old diabetic cat with kidney issues who technically should have died in Jan., yet is going strong and happy as a clam

4) we can pay our bills

5) even though Alex's company filed for bankruptcy, it looks like he's keeping his job

6) great friends and family

7) chocolate, cheese, and wine

8) I got my summer online class, so that will help out tremendously!

On the whole, it's good. That's all I need to remember.

******

How to traumatize your 11 yr old daughter and need her to go into therapy
(or, subtitled, $80 more to the therapy jar)

Over last weekend, we were at Alex's one bedroom apt. in Rock Hill. The sleeping arrangements are as such: kids get bedroom since they go to bed first, and we get the pullout sleeper sofa in the living room. Whenever we've done this, if we...um...ahem...wait for the kids to go to sleep, we can engage in whatever activities we want and they just sleep through them. Kids are generally sound sleepers, you know? Jared will pass out like a rock instantly; with Ari, you just have to wait a little longer, and nothing will snap her out of her coma.

So, we waited. And we then went at it. But Ari had been sick that week with bronchitis, and I suppose that made her a lighter sleeper. Suddenly a head pokes out of the doorway and calls out, "Hey! Can you guys keep it down out there?"

Woopsie! We've never been caught by her before! What to do?

So, before my mouth can be controlled by my brain (typical problem with me), I shout back, "Well, do you WANT another sibling or DON'T you???"

Alex looks surprised. There is silence. Then Ariana responds with a sigh and, "Very well. Go ahead." And then she shuts the door and goes back to bed.

I'm a bad parent, aren't I?

Amazing

2009-02-13T12:35:00.000-08:00

So, here is the background: Ariana had a boyfriend named Adam. She had had a boyfriend named Andrew for a year and a half, and he was a sweetheart to her. Then they split up as 10 yr olds can do, and within two weeks this boy named Adam asked her to be his girlfriend. I called that one to Ariana because I've seen Adam moon over her for two years. She told Adam that I had predicted it, and he thought I was horribly smart for seeing that coming.

Adam is a funny as hell kid, and he's really smart, too. He's in the Quest (gifted) program with my daughter at school. But he's always been an underachiever. Like some smart kids, he balks at anything too hard and insists that he can't do it. Last year, he was on the A-B honor roll instead of the A honor roll because that's what he can do with absolutely no effort. This part frustrated Ariana, but otherwise they had a lot in common and she loved being adored by him. He drew her cute cartoons about her being his dream woman, and he made her little animals out of beads and such. His family has suffered some deep financial hardships, so Adam found his own creative ways to show Ari how much he cared without spending money that they don't have. She appreciated all of that.

But then early last fall, she became too agitated about Adam's lack of motivation at school. Plus, she told me she couldn't stand it when he was in Quest and would just state firmly that he couldn't do whatever project it was without even trying. It got to her to the point that she decided it was time to break up with him. She said something about them not having similar goals in life even though they had a lot of other stuff in common, and I wondered where she ever got so wise. I have girlfriends who can't figure that shit out even after they get married to the guy in question. Go Ari!

When she broke up with him, he asked her why. She flat out told him exactly what she already told me. She didn't give him some nonsense to spare his feelings or to give him false hope or anything--she's MY girl, so she tells it like it is. Adam said he understood. And they remained friends.

Well, then Adam did an amazing thing. He started studying in school. He started trying really hard in Quest. Now, Ari didn't ask him to do this. She didn't say, "And if you change all of this, we'll be back together." She just flat out told him: this frustrates me about you, and since I can't deal with it, we're done. So, I feel like Adam is also way wiser than your average male twice his age. He listened to the girl he loved, and rather than making any promises he may or may not have kept, he just went out and made the changes he knew he needed to do for both her as well as him anyway. He kept it up continuously for months. Shoot, I figure his mom must want to take Ari home right now as it stands...haha! Ari noted this to me--wow, Mom, Adam's getting straight As. He's trying really hard. You won't believe how cool X project was that he did or Y paper that he wrote.

So, now today it was Valentine's Day for the kids at school. My daughter received five carnations from Adam and a tiny little puppy that squeeks out with a tiny bark, "I love you!" Please understand his family's financial situation--this was everything he had or could possibly get. Ari was stunned, and she told him there was no need to apologize when he told her that he wanted to get her more but this was all he had. She was very, very touched.

When she came in with the carnations into the car, each one had a tag on it that said something along the same theme:

1) Come back!

2) SOS...come back!

3) I screwed up! Come back!

4) Please come back!

5) Please please come back (and then an arrow that shows she is to turn over the paper, and the back side says...) I really sound pathetic, don't I?

Awwww! He drew a picture of himself looking downcast on one of them, too. He's a good artist.

I asked Ari how all of this made her feel. "It feels GREAT!" she said, which was perhaps not quite the amount of empathy I wanted her to feel. But then she said that she was considering getting back together with him since all that bothered her about Adam was gone. And any guy who worships my daughter that much is welcome to a second chance without me beating him within an inch of his life, too!

Random Thoughts on a Random Day

2008-12-30T13:05:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm alive. This last month was about survival, and then it was about recovery from survival. My lack of sleep showed with a few stupid mistakes here and there, but on the whole I made it through the end of the semester crunch.

I had to come in during exam week to sign my reappointment letter. I have to say that it was the best, most favorable reappointment letter yet. I was floored by how many good things both my evaluator and the head of the department had to say about me. The latter was particularly stunning because, well, he's not into compliments. Grace told me that I shouldn't be surprised because I consistently have some of the highest ratings in the dept. from my evals. Okay, THAT surprised me too. I had no idea. All I could think was--what about the two folks who always hate me? I mean, in a class of 35 people, I can predict the breakdown. It's always the same. 30 folks insist I'm the best thing since sliced bread; three don't care and are totally indifferent; and two hate my freakin' guts. The two who hate my guts are rather creative in their reasons...I've actually learned to laugh about it and chalk it off as "having a personality." If everybody loved me, then I'd be doing something wrong. Anyway! Because I always have those two folks grumbling loudly, it never occured to me that this was FEWER than average.

I also have something like 12 former students signed up for my classes next term. And I received a letter and three thank you notes from students this term....that also surprised me. Thank you notes??? And then I had about a dozen emails on a similar theme. How did this happen all at once? In one semester? In, ironically, the semester wherein I completely decided that I didn't want to hold back at all on what I did or said because Clemson had frustrated me totally with their decision to screw us out of five days' pay? Now, I have no idea what my evals have said this term. I didn't look at them, and unless I'm doing the reappointment thing again next year, I'm not sure I will. I'd rather just bask in the glow of this positive energy and think of myself as a pretty decent teacher. Perhaps the lack of sleep was worth it.

That still doesn't mean I'm ready to start back up next week, though. Too many hours at the wine store has meant that this hasn't been a complete vacation. Oh well! If Alex does his job right, I'll be pregnant in April and just converting to an occasional online course to teach anyway! This could very well be my last semester inside a classroom teaching for a few years (provided I CAN get pregnant...only time will tell).

Total Wine has cut back their hours for their employees tremendously in January. My hours have been cut back as well, but I think I'll be picking up some more time after this one fellow quits. He told me in confidence that he was going soon, so that'll free up some hours for all of us. I'm betting that they'll not hire anybody to replace him until the end of Feb. when we start getting more hours again.

We've received Rock Band 2 for Christmas for my brother. Well, Ariana and Jared got it, but it turned out to be a family game. I'm always thrown on the mic; Jared is always drums; Ari is always guitar. Alex floats between drums and guitar. Three of us can go at once, and if we get another guitar, we can all play at the same time. I never thought this game would interest me, but I'm having a blast with it. In fact, my throat is raw from singing for hours last night....haha!

And finally, I propose that from now on out, we stop that stupid ritual of asking people how they are without wanting an answer or at least wanting an answer resembling the truth. The next time somebody asks you at a check out line or at work, "How are you?", just blurt out what you're feeling! "Well, I'm bloating like crazy and craving chocolate. Damn I hate this time of the month. How about you?" or "Man, I'm having the shits like you can't believe! It's so uncomfortable" or "I couldn't be more depressed since my mom died" or "I'm doing awesome! There's nothing like a good breakfast and a quality orgasm to start the day!" Take your pick. But from now on out, it's your duty: answer the question so that it returns to having meaning.

The Process of Creative Thinking

2008-11-25T07:06:00.000-08:00

Jared has always been a more literal-minded boy. He is logical, rational, and avoids most abstract thinking outside of the science and math world. However, this has not dampened his creativity. I think that the Bionicles he loves to build helped to nurture unique approaches to problems, plus the stories we've read, plus playing D&D (yes, I'm raising geeklets), plus playing a few video games. I've noticed that Mr. Science and Math truly lets that creative side fly whenever he's asked to draw anything at school. NOTHING he does looks ANYTHING like what the other kids do. I love it! Ariana is much the same way, actually. Their quirky views on the world amuse me.

For instance, in Jared's second grade class, they were required to write a short essay on their favorite food. Then, they were to draw a picture involving that food product. Jared's favorite food is tacos, so his little essay focused on what he enjoyed about eating them (he defined his ideal taco as one with meat, sour cream, and cheese on it--damn that vegetable crap!). Then he drew his picture. His teacher took the better half of the class' essays and posted them up in the hallway with their accompanying artwork. When I saw his picture, it made me giggle.

See, all these other kids are drawing normal stuff: them eating the food, their parents cooking the food, everybody sitting down at a table and enjoying a feast, etc. Every last one of them went along that theme. Then there was Jared's. At first, I had to stare at it to realize what was going on. First of all, the picture was of the sky and clouds. I suppose it was taco heaven? Then there's Jared riding a taco on its side like a magic carpet. Two other tacos--apparently with wings--were flying around in the sky as well. Bwahahaha! That's simply awesome. I will never look at a taco the same way again.

Then they had to draw pictures that will be made into various items like magnets and mugs and such. The kids are asked to do these pictures right before Christmas every year as it's a part of the fundraisers for the school. You're supposed to buy one of these items with your kid's picture on it and maybe give them out as Christmas gifts. Anyway, most of the kids have pictures of family, friends, their favorite sports, or their pets/favorite animals. Now, let's review what my children did:

1) Jared drew a picture of The Holy Grail. I'm not even kidding you. It's a highly detailed picture, too, with the grail glowing in the middle of it and hovering next to a tree.

2) Ariana drew a vampire tomato. Yes, that's right: vampire tomato.

My children's weirdness will never cease to delight me.

Easy Come, Easy Go

2008-11-18T15:51:00.001-08:00

Well, after Alex got his job up in Rock Hill, we decided that our goal would be to manage to finish paying off my car, buy him a car and pay it off, and then get me good and knocked up in the spring. Then I'd move up with the kids (the ex willing) to Rock Hill over the summer, do an online course or two for Clemson, do the AP program, then quit working. Well, unless I could find some online classes to teach during the fall and spring--THAT would be manageable while pregnant and grumpy. Money would be very tight when we reverted to Alex's income because we still have his enormous student loans to pay off. Without those loans, we'd be able to manage fine on his salary and even purchase a house. But no, we realized that we'd have to wait out the rest of the life of the loans before we could do some house hunting (three and a half years, maybe four). Still, it was a happy plan. We were content with it. And even though the kids weren't crazy about moving away from their friends, they were up for the move to Rock Hill, too. And even though I'm not crazy about being knocked up again--I'm a miserable pregnant woman who does NOT glow--I was looking forward to having another baby with the man I love. Meanwhile, Ari says she's praying for twins. I told her that she could have the pick of the litter.

So, with these goals in mind, we would cut back on expenses but still be able to enjoy life a bit more than we have in the past because we'd have some decent money coming in. Sure, we had to support two households and start paying off two cars, but it was all feasible!

Then, of course, it all unraveled. Why, you ask? Because whatever bills and emergencies you have coming in seem to be related to your income...that's why! First, Alex's teeth started causing more problems. Between root canals and crowns, since July, we've plunked down about $1200 out of pocket on his teeth (dental ins--decent ins, too--took care of the rest). Then my sixteen and a half year old cat, Chian, was diagnosed with kidney issues. Ok, so we have to plunk down $45 in medicine for that and $40 in special food for him a month...we can swing that...oopsie, looks like he has diabetes, too! Now throw in some insulin, some syringes...aw, shit, looks like diabetes dumps sugar into the urine and encourages bladder infections in cats. Ok, now let's toss in some antibiotics for over a month into the mix. And extra litter used due to the infection (side note: good kitty won't go outside of the box even when he has a bad infection. It was so sad--he'd just crawl into the box and out again, napping near the box so he wouldn't miss it).

I started to mentally calculate how much extra work I could squeeze in at Total Wine, and then I tried to tally if our goals were still feasible. I didn't finish the calculations before Clemson University decided that in order to save money, they'd force each and every worker at Clemson to take five unpaid days off. So, starting in December, I guess my paycheck will be $100 light all the way through May. They also told lecturers--folks who only get paid to teach--that we had to somehow manage to take off those five days without cancelling classes. HAHAHAHA! Dudes, that's not possible! Did you just ask me to work for free? Why yes, yes, I believe you did.

We've cut back a fair bit, but boy was it sad after we had this temporary time of saying, sure! Let's get yankee candles and some fancy body wash! Still, I take in a deep breath and try to remember the following: we've got each other, gas prices are down to $1.82, we can pay the rent(s), we're eating well, our heat is on, Chian is acting like his old self, and we have two very reliable cars. Right now I'm in Super Budget Mode because not only do I have to figure out Christmas but also I have to figure out the kids' bdays (both the parties and the presents). But we can do it. We will definitely find a way. And I'm still gonna get that baby (um, unless I'm too old at this point, but I don't think 38-39 is too old, right?).

****

So, Jared received his first graded report card as a second grader. He received all As. His lowest grade was a 97, and that surprised me because although Ari did all As as a second grader, she always had at least one 93 or 94 in there somewhere. So, startled, I looked at Jared and said, "Wow! Your lowest grade is in social studies and it's a 97!" He replied in a mournful voice, "Yeah, I'm not so good at social studies." Bwahahaha! That cracked me right up.

****

And now for the "I will embarrass the crap out of my daughter" portion of the blog. Well, at least a normal ten-year-old would find it embarrassing for me to tell this tale, but Ari's as easily mortified as I am, so maybe not. She's developing breasts. She's still in training bras, but that won't last much longer. After returning from her father's house last time, she walked in the door, put down her stuff, lifted up her top and training bra completely, and then jumped up and down. "LOOK MOM!" she screamed out, "THEY BOUNCE!!!" Boy is she easily amused. I don't think we have much modesty going off, do we? Should I be scared about the teen years????

Weight

2008-10-09T16:04:00.000-07:00

Everybody gets different messages about food and weight when they are younger. By all accounts, I should be completely nuts about how much I weigh, thanks to my mom's attitudes.

See, my mom was raised in a household where praise was considered not good to give children because it would go to their heads and they would become egotistical. My mom never heard what she did right; it was always what she did wrong. It made her strive for perfection, and her lack of control over so many aspects of her life led to a desperate need to have control over her body. I'd say she's borderline anorexic and certainly has a very crappy body image as a result.

As unfortunate as it was that my mom experienced these messages when she was young, it is even worse that she decided somehow to pass that on to us. Although she managed to remedy the lack of praise (we were constantly told what we were doing right), she couldn't help but to press her daughters for that elusive ideal body. My sister was especially susceptable to these messages, and she's always had issues with how she looks. Sure, a ballet teacher needs to be slender, but I think that at 5', being 84 lbs is still a wee bit light. But in her mind, at least she's not that horrid 106 lbs that she was when she came home her freshman year of college and my mom told her she was fat. No shit. 106 lbs. That's it!!!

I remember my mom delivering the same messages to me. I was pudgy for a lot of my childhood; the other kids even started to call me cow. My mom kept nudging me to lose weight. But, the strangest thing happened...I was unaffected by all of that. I laughed when the kids teased me and started making mooing noises. When they realized I didn't care, they gave up and it became a joke that evolved into the cow being sort of my totem animal in high school. But then at the end of 8th grade, I hit my last growth spurt and got desperately ill at the same time. I lost a load of weight by accident, and suddenly my mom flipped into OPPOSITE mode: you're too skinny! Eat, eat! I remember going outside to goof off with my neighbor's daughter and my mom fussing at me that I couldn't go until I ate this cuban sandwich, and so after she shoved it in my mouth, I was wandering down the driveway bewilderedly with this huge-ass piece of bread and meat dangling between my lips and teeth.

Clear message: there is too fat. There is too skinny. But there is never "just right."

My sister heard that one loud and clear, now that my mom moans at her that she's too skinny. But...somehow I missed it entirely...

It's hard to explain. We're taught, esp. women (not that men don't worry about it too, but women are made to focus on it more due to media, etc), that we must look this one way to be "good." We're given that subliminal that even today, long after the right to vote and the feminist surge, we as women should focus on looking pretty. Looking pretty, according to the models displayed on the runway, means you take a skeleton and throw some flesh on it. It's an unattainable and unhealthy ideal that is waved in front of us constantly. And there's my mom in the background reinforcing it. And there is my sister tortured by it off and on her whole life. And then there's me....

I just don't care, and I can't figure out why. I don't sit in front of a mirror and wonder why I've gained weight nor feel issues with self esteem during the phases in my life when I did put on the pork. My awesomeness can't be put on a scale ;) I was only on one diet in my entire life, and that was mostly because we just couldn't afford to buy more clothes, and there I was busting out of everything I owned. After I lost 14 lbs, I accidentally got pregnant with Ariana a bit earlier than planned, and there was never another diet again. My Maw Maw has pointed out to me when I've become "fat," and my mom sure as hell has. My ex used to even point it out to me as he gained way more weight than I was gaining. Ahhh, the memories...Jared was six weeks old, and I was going into the doctor's office to get my clean bill of health. The ex said something about how I was steadily losing weight, and then he added, "I can't wait until you lose all that weight so we can start having sex again." I remember blinking, looking at him, raising an eyebrow, and saying, "OK, good, how about you lose that 50 lbs you gained too--that's fair, right? We'll wait to have sex until you do THAT." And he sputtered, and stammered, and said that wasn't exactly what he meant....ahhhh good times, that.

But it didn't really get inside me, you know? Other people's opinions on my physical shape just don't bang around my head like they seem to do for normal folks. That's not to say I don't remember fretting to Alex before his brother came to visit that I was a bit tubby for a Frenchwoman, and I hoped he found that I was worthy of him despite that fact...it was mostly worry that James would wish something better for his bro because of the excess weight I had picked up over the years, and GOSH you just don't know how the French are about weight (back me up, Laurita!!!). But it passed rather quickly, and there was never a need to diet or do something about the fact that I had crept up to 134 lbs. by last December.

Instead, last Christmas I realized I just didn't feel great. I didn't want to diet; I just wanted to feel better. So, the first change was eating more fruits and drinking more water. That really made me feel so much better. And since in my attempts to get in my five servings a day of fruits/veggies meant sometimes a bowl of pineapple was substituted for a bag of chips as a snack, I managed to go down to 126 lbs on that alone by last May. For me, the goal had been achieved. I felt better. It wasn't a weight issue. Still, I decided to up the healthy stakes by cutting out all sodas in every form, even diet. I had just read an article about how even diet sodas did funky things to one's metabolism and had all sorts of manure in it one should never consume, and I finally had the strong desire to drop them. Since May, I've only had a coke once (when my throat was torn up) and some ginger ale when I was sick for two days. Instead, I wake up with a lovely cup of green tea in some form or another. Then Total Wine made me walk, walk, walk. Then the kids ran me around this summer swimming, swimming, swimming. But hey, the term started up. I had no more swimming. I had only one day a week I was walking at Total Wine. I was sitting on my butt doing teacher stuff all the time (grading, reading, etc). In August, I figured the gravy train had ended at 121 lbs and that was just fine and dandy. Clothes were more comfortable. I felt more energetic. Life was good, and after all--I wasn't even TRYING to lose weight, so who cares?

As a side note, I think I'd be dead in the Medieval and Renaissance periods. My metabolism would have never been able to survive off of more meagre foodstuffs. I'd have had to be a noble to have made it. I watch some of my friends eat far less food than I consume and struggle to keep down weight or lose weight. It's SO not fair. I feel guilty. Not only is it easy for me, I simply am unaffected by all those mommy and society messages that say, "You're worth less because you're not a Barbie doll." It would mean way more to others to have a good metabolism like this...why am I so lucky?

Or maybe it's not luck. It could be a tapeworm. I'm down to 115 lbs. now, and I'm eating cheese, chocolate, and potato chips, plus downing a fair bit of wine. I don't feel deprived at all. I'm not dieting! It's amazing how much those lifestyle changes helped me, and my only goal was to just have more energy and be more alert. My mom still thinks I'm fat, but who cares? Society would say I'm still a little cushiony because I look nothing like those models (esp. at 5'2"), but who cares? I'm just happy I feel good. And I feel more blessed, actually, for my ability to blow off what others feel about me and my appearance/actions/and so on than I do for the weight loss. I really hope I can pass that on to my kids: you're loved, and that's all that matters. Screw the rest of the world. Just do what you need to do, and let them talk to a mirror.

Somehow, when you do that, it just all seems to work out.

****
AND I got gas for $2.99 today!!!
****
Grant, put down the chainsaw...I'll eat the doughnuts and chocolate cake...just put down the chainsaw....

The Perfect Day

2008-09-22T17:09:00.000-07:00

Last week, Alex and I were talking about times in our life when we had managed somehow to achieve perfect unity with the universe, feeling completely at peace and relaxed. It's the goal of yoga, yet I never attained it during the year I did yoga at Duke. Instead, my first real experience with becoming one with all around me was a perfect moment in time when I was 16 yrs old. Like one of the messages I heard loud and clear in Slaughterhouse-Five, life is best enjoyed and savored when we relive the best moments over and over again instead of focusing on that horribleness which we cannot control. Sometimes, when the world falls apart, I travel back in time to this one, simple slice of a day that had me emotionally settled and calm.

You see, nothing momentous happened. Nothing great fell out of the sky. No alcohol was involved. No male and that first flush of love came anywhere near this glorious time. In fact, I doubt I can explain to you what made it so awesome, so amazing, so fabulous. All I know is that when I think back upon it, I smile and feel....well, good.

My friend Tasia had a beachhouse on the Florida coast. Well, her family owned the beachhouse at any rate. They bought the house in need of repair, but nothing intense. Instead, it was mostly minor touchups here and there that it needed, and it also needed a lot of paint. I had no handywoman skills, but I COULD paint. So, Tasia and I went with her family to the place for a week with the knowledge that the first two days would involve slave labor; after that, we'd have the time to do what we wanted and hang out on the beach.

The second day of painting was our last day, and after finishing up the outside porch before the midday heat overcame us, we scampered inside to eat a simple lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and chips. There was joking and teasing with her two brothers, and then we all went out for a swim. Afterwards, we each grabbed a coke from the refrigerator and headed back outside to the two hammocks that swung lazily between a bunch of palm trees, a nicely shaded and slightly breezy area.

At first we talked--a smattering of words here and there meant to reassure the other that company was appreciated, but slowly the sounds and syllables broke down to silence as language became inadequate to express the experience of that afternoon. Slurping noisily that last swig of coke, I then hung a foot out over my hammock, tossing the can on the sand and crushing it with my back heel. I giggled, feeling the sticky coolness of a few of the last drops of the soda smacking against my skin. Tasia looked over to me slowly, a half-smile on her face as she then turned back to sling a well-tanned arm over her eyes. My leg remained, dangling, over the rope as I swung back and forth, the coke can hanging from my foot like a high-heeled shoe. I felt that gentle breeze, just enough air caressing my skin to lessen the heat of the sun which stabbed through the palm leaves in shards of light. In our companionable silence, nothing needed to be said because neither one of us wanted to break the moment. Whoever spoke first would shatter it into the void, a new moment starting that could not possibly be as perfect as that one we experienced together yet apart, our hammocks showing their grogginess about the midday heat by swaying ever so slowly. I could feel some sand between my toes, the sun heating up my skin, my muscles tingling from all the painting I had done, the salt water drying my hair in clumps.

I can't imagine a more perfect moment.

Since that moment, I can point out flashes in time I treasure too, but for different reasons. This was the one moment when my happiness and peace was not connected to children, a lover, my siblings, my parents, my friends. It was me, blending in with all that was around me, feeling a part of everything and not separate or different at all. I can never forget it. And if I don't forget it, I think that even in my darkest times, I'll be able to find joy through the smallest details: a Godiva chocolate, a child's laugh, a good slice of cheese, a cat to pet. People define success in a myriad of ways, but for me, success is the capability of being happy. It's a rare gift, and I'm grateful to possess it.

Cell Phone Manners

2008-09-09T17:23:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, but it just pisses me off to be talking to somebody who is trying to text at the same time. When I was a teen, I used to get all pissy if I were on the phone (believe me, that's a big enough deal since I hate the phone) and the person I was talking to focused on the TV or something else.

I think we're becoming like Wall-E showed the future on that stupid ship. Everybody there was staring at a screen and talking to folks through a screen instead of face to face. I've seen so many of my students--and also my nieces in particular, but not my nephews so much--just sit there with lots of good company and text all of their friends intently on their cell phones. I should have the legal right to toss the phone out of the window at that point.

Or toss it to the ground and smash on it if a person uses his or her cell phone while paying for groceries. What, is that cashier your slave? Ring it up, bitch, and I'll take my bags, since you are nothing! And in a restaurant? When a companion is sitting across the table from you? Sorry, unless the phone call is, "The babysitter just kidnapped your children. Come home immediately," don't talk!

I love technology of various sorts, but cell phones really leave a lot of room for rudeness. And that's why I tend to not give out my cell phone number. It's for emergencies to me. If others want to use it as their main phone, fine! But please be considerate of those around you. Who ever wants to set aside time for somebody only to have them text and talk to somebody else off and on the whole time? Only somebody with no self-esteem.

In short, phones suck. Thank you.

And so it begins again

2008-08-19T16:01:00.000-07:00

The summer has ended, and I'm not sure how it happened so quickly. The kids started up school today, and I start up tomorrow. So it goes.

This year starts up in a different fashion: I'm aware that it's most probable that it's my last year at Clemson, at least for now. Sure, I could manage to not get pregnant, and Alex could need to find a job back home, and in that case I'd still be a teacher next year. Otherwise, though, I'm taking a break for a few years (unless there are online teaching opportunities, but there's NO WAY I will put a newborn into daycare if I have a choice). So, it's with melancholy and joy mixed together that I contemplate this break from the one job I've ever enjoyed.

Doing the syllabi has been fine for the Brit Lit and two World Lit classes I am to teach, but 20th to 21st century lit??? Man, that's hard to construct considering that it's 600 or so years outside of my speciality. At first, I was really skittish about doing this class. Now I'm excited. A geek who loves fantasy and sci fi has so many options to throw in entertaining yet literary works in the modern era. I just found another short story, very short in fact, that is facinating to me: Atwood's "Happy Endings." Considering how the man/men are portrayed in this short piece, it's feminist in orientation for sure. But the structure? The format? So strange, yet so interesting. This is what contemporary literature has to offer...the new, the creative, the different. I think I'm going to love this class.

Ariana has started up the school year with her chosen homeroom teacher, Ms. Cheek ("Momma! I want to get Ms. Cheek because she's crazy and strict, just like you!" Yup, that's a great version of who I am...haha!). She says fifth grade looks to be interesting, and we'll see how it all turns out as the year unfolds. Jared has Ms. Yates, a teacher whom Ariana had for second grade as well. We LOVE Ms. Yates. Sure, she can be a bit scattered sometimes, but she's got the critical part for a second grade teacher besides knowledge--heart. When Ariana had her as a teacher, she inspired from Ari the best that my daughter could give in an academic setting. Ariana was allowed to help out the other students when she finished her work, and that kept her from getting bored. She felt useful, and she liked that. Ms. Yates had told me before she had Jared that she was nervous about getting him in her classroom because he was so incredibly brilliant. Then she turned to Jared that day and said, "Will you help me teach?" He nodded seriously, and that was that. Meanwhile, though, I thought the SAME thing that I thought when Ariana was in second grade, when she told me that Ari was insanely intelligent...really? He/she is?

I know that sounds like a dork. I mean, parents are infamous for believing their children are capable of MORE, not LESS, than what they can do. And it's not like I've ever told my kids anything short of, "You can do whatever you set your mind to do!" It's just that, well, um, it's all normal in my family. I mean, they are comparable to most of my nieces and nephews in capacity, and they are nowhere near my nephew Adam who was reading at two and a half and doing long division with remainders at four. So, I just figured that they were "normal" kids. And even though somehow I'm aware that might not be true, it still shocks me to hear it.

What is intelligence anyway? For my kids, if I look at it carefully, it's the ability to problem solve and create new answers where there seem to be none. But they are very different in how their brains work! My daughter has an amazing abstract, theoretical brain. My son has an amazing mechanical, spatial brain. It depends on the circumstance as to who shines.

They're great kids, regardless. I never was more proud than when both of them won the citizen of the year award for their respective grades. Any kid can be born with a brain, but how many have a heart? Their compassion and desire to help make others' lives easier make me more proud than gifted programs and straight As. No wonder I enjoy spending so much time with them.

Life as We Know It

2008-07-28T13:16:00.000-07:00

Well, the summertime is not so hard in the missing Alex department. The kids and I drive up on Monday and drive home on Friday, with Alex following a few hours later when he gets off work. Then we spend the weekend together; Alex drives home late Sunday night, and we see him again on Monday. When that changes, we'll be very sad. But so far, it's been fine.

Alex has just a one bedroom apartment in Rock Hill. It's cute but small. To me, all of us living there during the week is a valuable lesson. That is, we're FINE in that tight of a space. My American sensibilities of wanting our usual three bedroom, two bath apartment don't even surface. The kids get the bedroom; we get the pullout sofa bed in the living room. In the morning, we put up the bed so we have a living room again. There's never a sense of being in a cramped space or feeling deprived. Why would I feel deprived? We get to go out during the day and do fun stuff. We gather together at night and have dinner, then do things as a family. Nobody seems to get on anybody's nerves. Sure, I want a nice house one day. I really do. We went looking at houses just in case it can work out in two years to get one. But I have come to realize that big living space is overrated. First of all, I have to clean it. Second of all, I have to pay for it. And third of all, our money can be better spent elsewhere...like on good food, a new car for Alex, a baby, or a few bottles of fun wine. A house has shifted to the lowest priority possible. I just want everybody to remain healthy and happy. THAT is success.

Meanwhile, Alex frets about being able to spoil me like he always does. That's a man with his priorities straight! Haha! Every time I hear other women talk about their exes or even their current sig others, I realize I'm the luckiest woman on earth. He's so selfless. The kids and I come first. He doesn't even know other women exist. Life for him revolves around spending time with us. Right when he gets home from work, Alex will sit down and teach the kids a little French every night, then play games with them while I cook dinner. We eat dinner together, and then we all do something like watch a movie or go swimming. When the kids get tucked into bed, we often sit on the porch with a glass of wine and just talk. Then he gives me a bubble bath and massages me and tucks us into bed. Yup, every night--and no, I've never taken it for granted. Now that we have more money coming into the house, he's stepped up the frequency of when I get flowers, too. To me, it's unreal how he can go to work every day and come home with a laugh and a smile, working hard once he's back to make sure the rest of us feel loved too. He's the best natured man in the world--it's impossible to be a pessimist around him. I love that.

Yes, our money woes are far from over. There's too much coming up that will require funds. But we can pay our bills, and we can do fun activities. It's been great. We've seen a ton of movies in the theatre, gotten season passes to Carowinds, and enjoyed a few meals out. When Alex's tire blew, we could actually afford the $100 for a new tire. What a relief!

Now for the irony department report: Alex and I have his green card interview on September 2nd of this year, approximately one year and three months later than it should have been. He's just been using a work permit to work here so far. Why do I think it's ironic that it's Sept. 2nd? Well, first of all, that's our second wedding anniversary. Whatta way to spend the day! But secondly, if we've been married two years or more, he would get a more permanent green card. But we didn't apply for that type because we thought he'd get it way earlier. So, on the very day he's eligible for the permanent green card, they'll give him a temporary card...and we'll have to go through this all again in the near future. I have one word for that: AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

But I'll try not to focus on that part. After all, life is good.

****

Side note: I made a post about cheap and good summer wines on the other blog if anybody wants to see... http://levinetlepain.blogspot.com/

Accidents Happen

2008-06-30T09:45:00.000-07:00

Well, Alex was on his way back from the weekend last Friday when his tire exploded. It didn't go flat; it blew *kerPOW!* Now, one thing you have to keep in mind is that Alex has only been driving for about two years. Why did he need to know how to drive over in France when the public transportation was so good? So, he didn't get his license until he came over here. Last May, I bought a new Mazda 3 and gave him my old Mazda Protege. Our next project is to replace said Protege because it's got 185k miles on it. I didn't think the tires were due to be changed, though...and the guy at the tire place said that the other three were fine, so maybe not. Who knows why it blew? All I know is that I am INCREDIBLY HAPPY that Alex managed to keep control of the car while driving speedily down the interstate as it blew, and he did not get into an accident nor cause an accident. Whew! In many ways, it's just a metaphor for life: there you are, driving down the road, when suddenly something unexpected happens. And how you react to it determines your own path and the path of others.

Anyway, I've decided that Alex must have cooties this weekend because not only did his tire screw up but also his cell phone. The contract expires on his cell phone in September, so I desperately did not want it to die NOW. "Now" means we have to BUY a new phone instead of get one free with a two-year contract. Sigh. But at least I found a place that sells used, refurbished cell phones (with a 30 day warranty) that will be compatable with our current service--just switch out the SIM card and we're good. So, that's better than spending hundreds on a new, great phone. We'll worry about something spiffy rather than functional in Sept.

I'm afraid people will kill me for the last "accident" I'm listing off today. I'm accidentally losing weight. I'm not dieting; I'm eating all the chocolate and drinking all the wine I usually consume. However, there are three factors that have changed in my life. In January, I started eating more fruits and vegetables because I was worried I wasn't getting in enough of them. At the same time, I started drinking more water and cut myself back to one soda a day. Then in May, I started up a job wherein I have to walk, walk, walk...and I gave up sodas entirely because I just decided that there's no value at all to drinking a chemical concoction. To give you an idea of HOW much I have to walk, I took Alex's pedometer to work with me out of curiosity on Saturday. After a 9 and a half hour shift, I had walked 23,014 steps. Basically, you're doing good if you can manage to swing 10,000 steps a day. I'm more than doubling it. I keep wondering what it'll be like after my 12 and a half hour shift on Thursday. Now, it's just a part time job, but I guess every little bit helps. My metabolism has never been bad (although it certainly has slowed over the years--that getting older and giving birth thing), and I guess this is the proof. I still eat insane amounts of food and calories, but these small changes had me go from 134 lbs in December to 123 lbs now. My clothes that were really, really tight now fit comfortably. Amazing. I'll take that and say "thank you."

Reading, Reading, Reading

2008-06-13T18:58:00.000-07:00

I wish that title were a reference to me reading fun books and magazines, but it's not. I've been at the AP English Lit reading and grading essays for the past week plus. It was frustrating because the question I read upon was harder than the similar question was last year, and so they sucked. SUCKED. I mean, I read for AP last year and it wasn't nearly so bad. This year? Pitiful. On a scale from 0 to 9, most of the essays were 4 or lower. That makes me sad.

The essay I read was based on an exerpt from a book called Fasting, Feasting by Anita Desai. It looked very interesting, so I'll look up the novel at the local library sometime this summer. The passage involved a tale about an Indian exchange student named Arun. Unfortunately, the kids would panic so much about the AP exam that frequently they couldn't even spell Arun's name right even though it was right in front of them (Aran, Aurun, Verun, Hrun...you name it). I also had some winner statements that made me laugh out loud, like the student who wrote that Arun was an exchange student from INDIANA. Or that Arun was named Arun not because of his Indian heritage but due to the fact that he wanted to "A-run" away from everything. Or that modest clothing was common in India but not in America...that you couldn't find modest clothing in America unless you went to India to buy it...oh wait, maybe you could get it at Wal-Mart. Man, those moments made my reading so much more humorous!

Then there was a girl who decided to write an essay on her guidance counselor instead of the exerpt. I found that one facinating, actually, even if it was a zero. She mentioned that her guidance counselor told her that she was poop and couldn't succeed in life, let alone go to Virginia Tech. But the girl defied her and applied to VT, and she got in...early decision. Yay! I like stories when the bad guys go down in flames. I hate it when teachers tell kids they can't do X or Y. Yes, I've told students before that their strengths are math instead of English, but that's VERY different. Usually that's followed up with something about how they can certainly still get an A out of an English class if they let me help them because I know that their hard work can get them to their goals. I can't imagine telling a child that he/she/it can't do shit because he/she/it is worthless or incapable. Come on. We can all do amazing things if we just want to, eh?

I need the money from the week of AP readings, but I also enjoy just connecting with rising high school seniors that way--through their essays. I like knowing what skills your average student will have when escaping high school. I also like chatting with the other English lit geeks. We're an odd bunch, but a fun bunch too.

****

I don't like little dogs. I don't. I don't. I swear I'm a big dog gal. But....

...a woman from the English dept. needed her dog taken care of for six months as she moved out to England. Alex immediately volunteered because he wanted company in Rock Hill during the week. I thought, well that's fine, he needs company. We can help her and make Alex happy at the same time. The dog is a little mini-pin, cute as a button, and as shy and skittish as our Firepaw Mercutio (the orange tabby cat we adopted from Angie's Rescue Mission, Inc., last fall).

Oh, shit, I love this dog. Sigh. So do the kids! We've won her over. We've gotten her to enjoy the cats (and the cats her). We've gotten her to be NOT uncomfortable or shy. She's cuddly, smart, sweet, enthusiastic, and well-behaved.

I think in Nov. when Blackie leaves, we'll have to get ourselves a dog....or at least another cat....

...and a month later...

2008-05-12T17:08:00.000-07:00

Well, here's the update. Good news: Alex has a job! Bad news: it's two hours away from the house! Sigh. We just really don't have a choice at this point. We'll have to be Alex-less Monday through Friday, save for holidays and some of the summer when we can drive up and spend time with him when he gets home from school. This will last for a minimum of a year, likely two years. His salary is good, but it'll be eaten up largely by the fact that we have two households to support. However, as long as I work too, we'll be able to save money. Seriously--SAVE money. Isn't that the most amazing thing you've ever heard??? First of all, we'll save money for a new car for Alex since his wants to die. Then we'll save for a baby and a house. The baby may or may not happen because the factory closes at 40. That leaves a year and a half to get pregnant, and I'm not even going to try until next year. We'll see if that works.

The first few months will be a little tight. First of all, Alex still has to get a crown (expensive!). Then he has to buy some furniture for his new place (expensive!). And then we have to pay for the car to be fixed. Somebody tried to break into our car...sigh. It appears that a circle of thugs came into our apartment complex and tried to break into something like six or seven cars. The police were called because somebody spotted them, and when they arrived they found one of them and chased him into the woods. Nobody was caught. Meanwhile, they destroyed our ignition trying to get his car. It's funny because Alex's car is old and has 180,000 miles on it. Why try to steal that? Why not my one year old Mazda 3? Well, mine looks like it has a security system on it even though it doesn't....and the locks are way harder to pick. I guess that's the answer. So, I estimate that nothing will be put into savings until Sept when I start back up at Clemson and get paychecks. But then we should be able to put most of my paycheck into savings, so that will be good.

My job at Total Wine and More is going well on the whole. I'm learning a lot, and I'm loving the 30% discount on the wine (but not beer except some Belgian beers...and not the liquor). Since I can only work weekends, though, due to child care issues, I'm not sure how long I can last with it. I mean...weekends are the only time I can see Alex! I'll have as much fun as I can until that point, though.

The month of May has been insane. I've given exams, graded papers and exams, volunteered at the kids' school, worked at Total Wine, and had not a single day of a break so far. But at least this weekend we get to visit Grant in Atlanta again, so I'll have a good vacation then! Grant always spoils us rotten and makes us feel so damned welcome. It's always fun to see him.

****

There's a bully in our apartment complex. The little boy keeps trying to terrorize this three year old girl (please don't ask me why her idiot parents think that her eight-year-old sister is a sufficient babysitter to let her out on the lawn). My daughter is not very tolerant of that sort of behavior, so when he grabbed the little girl's new bike with training wheels and wouldn't give it back to her, Ariana told him he'd better give it up or else. Then he ignored her and tried to bike off, so Ari grabbed him and pushed him off the bike. Then she gave it back to the little girl while the stunned nine-year-old slunk off. Then she came in immediately and told us what happened. We've known the stunts this boy has pulled for a while, and we know he does not respond to anything approaching logic. My DSS instinct tells me that his home life is the cause of it all for a variety of reasons too long to list, but that doesn't mean that he has the right to make other children be bullied and experience hell.

I mean really, isn't that the root of Columbine and other school shootings? Kids who tease and ignore and poke at those who are different, those they think they can muscle? Somewhere, it has to be stopped. Now, Ariana is not very happy pushing or grabbing people. She's a sweet kid who would give the shirt off her back to a person who needed it. When she came up, she fretted about doing the right thing, and Alex at first sighed and said she shouldn't touch this kid but get a parent...

...except the three year old's parents don't ever care if their kids are bullied...her older sister has gone with her little sister to tell their parents what happened, and they just DO NOT CARE. What is that like, as a parent, to not care about your child's welfare? Not something I've ever experienced personally....

...and that's when I interrupted. "No, she did the right thing. He wouldn't get off; she took care of that without punching or actually hurting him. She just made it clear that he could NOT get away with hurting her friends." I know at Ari's age, I would have punched the guy in the nuts and trampled on his chest. I'm not even kidding, and my family can back me up on that. I was not very tolerant of that sort of crap, and my two older brothers taught me to fight so I usually won. I don't necessarily want her to go around beating up assholes like I did as a child, but the fact that I've raised a child who knows right from wrong and tries to stop it when she sees it makes me proud. I know some parents would be like, "oh no! You can't touch that boy! Get the parents!" and that sounds great until you read what I wrote above: her parents DO NOT CARE. Your first clue was that she's three and wandering outside the apartment without a parent watching her (and for those of you saying call DSS over this, since the parents have their porch door open and the 8 yr old is with her, they won't do anything--I know that one for sure). So, who protects her?

Well, apparently my daughter does. And she came and told us immediately, showing her concern that she did "the right thing." I told her to never punch or hit unless it was self defense and she couldn't get to us first. I told her that pushing him off the bike was acceptable as long as she wasn't aiming to slam him on the cement or anything. And I felt proud of her for wanting to defend those who have no defense.

The boy tried to tell Alex when he went to get the mail that "your daughter pushed me!" After a back and forth, he grumbled that he WAS going to get off the bike. Alex responded coolly, "Then I guess you didn't get off fast enough." But my favorite line was this one: "And you're just damn lucky my wife didn't get to you first. She'd have come after you with a chainsaw." BAHAHAHAHA! Yeah, he knows me.

The little boy does apparently look up to Ari after all that. When she told him that his continued behavior meant she wouldn't play with him, he said, "but I haven't done anything to YOU!" She responded: "But you did it to my friends, and that's the same thing."

I realize some of you will object to the idea that I told my daughter it was ok to protect that three year old that way. And...I don't care. We make these decisions as they arrive, and from every angle I have looked at the situation, I think it was absolutely fine that Ariana pushed the kid off the bike. It didn't hurt him, and it let him know that he wasn't going to get away with bullying. You may not be fine with that. But I am. And I'm also proud. My daughter will stand up for injustice, even if she could get hurt by standing up. For ME and MY ethical composition, this swells my heart with joy that I've raised her right. I couldn't love her more.

So it seems....

2008-04-11T15:37:00.000-07:00

...that I likely have a second job. We are short on money because Alex hasn't been able to pin down a job in the last month and a half (although he has a few good leads), and I have a talent that will get me some fun, easy part time work.

What is it, you ask?

My love of wine.

Yes, tomorrow I go in to fill out paperwork to work part-time at a local wine store because damn me for being so awesome, I impressed them with my wine knowledge and my passion for the subject. I was actually told point blank, though, that my wine knowledge was great, but it was actually my charisma that makes them want to hire me. The goal is that one day I'll teach the wine classes there, too. Yay!

Me? Charismatic? I guess all those years of teaching has paid off!

Anyway, we'll see how it works out, but it appears that my life has become more full. I should start sometime after final exams. That should make for an easy adjustment: first over the summer, when during the week I'm mommy at home with the kids, and then adding on school next fall as a teacher. Sure, if I get four more lit classes next fall, I'll be screwed for the workload, but I think I can do it. I just might not be able to do French too.

I'm really excited! I'm especially excited by the prospect of 30% off :) Woohoo!

I'm Back!

2008-03-23T09:15:00.001-07:00

I went to my sister's house in Texas for my spring break. I had a great time with my three nieces, my sis, and her husband. But that's why I had been missing for a bit in the blogworld. Unfortunately, we only had one free plane ticket, so I had to leave Alex and the kids behind. It's great to be back with the family! I got in pretty late last night, and then of course we had all the Easter rituals to do, so I'm functioning on low sleep. If the kids pass out in a sugar coma, I can take a nap maybe, right? Haha!

It's funny because my sister and I are so very, very different...yet we love each other endlessly. She is a fashion plate whenever she walks out the door: flawless makeup, perfectly matched clothes, delicate ballerina body (she's a ballet instructor and never weighs over 88 lbs at 5'--she's usually at 84 lbs but this week I made her gain 3 lbs just 'cause when I show up, there's wine, chocolate, cheese, and other good food aplenty! haha!). I take two seconds to get ready to go out. That's usually all it takes for me to find something clean and slide on shoes. It was weird, though, for me to be a part of the mall shopping, clothes, and appearances set at times. My daughter is like me--is it clean? Good. We're ready. Let's go. But then again, that's what she learned to be from me. My sister's three girls have learned to care about looking gorgeous from my sister herself. It really made me wonder how Ariana'd be if she had been raised in Rose's household. I think for sure she'd be doing ballet like two of Rose's three girls. I think Ari would have loved that.

My youngest niece, Giselle, kept laughing at all my jokes and saying I was too entertaining to leave. That made me chuckle. She turns 12 at the end of the week. Chiara is 15 and is exactly what I expect out of a teen girl for behavior, so this was a shock for me to see the path that lies ahead. Hmm. But I guess Ariana could end up more like Allegra, my 17 yr old niece (otherwise known as my mini-me). Allegra is reasonable and uses logic. She has learned to appreciate looking nice when she walks out the door, but she doesn't spend much time on it nor does she have the enormous wardrobe that Chiara has (she saves her money instead). She mostly has male friends, and thereby she has evaded a lot of the girl trauma of high school. I asked my brother in law for permission to take her home to be my daughter, and he said no. Wah.

Still, I have been clinging to my daughter a LOT today. It's on the horizon. Teen girl drama...teen girl social life (IE, never home)...teen girl tears. I have today, but tomorrow she grows up. I can't make time stand still. I wouldn't want to, but honestly I wish this more fun and innocent time could continue just a wee bit longer. Isn't she mine??? Aren't I allowed to keep her forever??? haha!

Humorously, though, my daughter who really doesn't care about clothes just got an ENORMOUS haul of fashion plate clothing from my sister's girls. Whether or not she wants to be, she'll be well dressed when she walks out the door. Hey, it means I have to do laundry less frequently! Woohoo!

It was great to see my sis and her family, but it's great to be back too. Happy Easter, everybody!

Can You Take a Joke?

2008-03-11T13:04:00.000-07:00

When I became friends with a bunch of Europeans and Canadians, I learned too many American jokes. Now, I can take a joke. And I can certainly laugh at specific aspects of being an American/American culture, even when it's all non-Americans doing the teasing. But after a while, some jokes just became repetative and annoying. From that point on, I guess I became more selective about what was funny and what was a stupid pain in the ass as far as jokes based on nationality.

I've known of people thrown out of bars in Germany just for being American and not a damn thing else. I have walked through Wales and been asked what part of Canada I was from...and when I finally asked back, "Why does everybody think I'm Canadian?", the answer was simple: "Well, you're too smart and too polite to be an American." Ouch. We all know that the world does not love us as a nation. The teasing gets old. The jokes become the same ol', same ol'. And retelling them doesn't make them any funnier.

But that doesn't mean that if you don't have an original jibe to share, I won't laugh my ass off.

I feel the same way about French jokes. A long time ago, I didn't care one way or the other. But once I fell in love with a Frenchman, I started to become more and more aware of how we tease about them. Some of the jokes are just plain stupid. For instance, ha to the fucking ha about the French always surrendering. If you look at their military history on the whole instead of focus on, say, WWII, you'll find out that they weren't so shabby and didn't always run away like Sir Robin from The Holy Grail. And the "Boy you French don't shave and don't use soap" jokes???? FREAKING LAME! All the French women I know shave--shock. And all but one French person I know bathe regularly. The one French guy I know who does not bathe regularly is also a total gaming geek, and if you think that's nationality based, I could gladly take you to several of my male geek friends here in America who do not bathe either. For some reason, basic hygiene is not so important to a geek who has no social life. I can't stand those sorts of jokes. They're just plain lame.

But that doesn't stop me from laughing at a good French jibe, either.

So here's one that actually made me laugh....

Sitting together on a train, traveling through the Swiss Alps, are a French guy an American guy, an old Greek lady and a young blonde Swiss girl. The train goes into a dark tunnel and a few seconds later there is the sound of a loud slap. When the train emerges from the tunnel, the Frenchman has a bright red hand print on his cheek. No one speaks. The old lady thinks: The Frenchman must have groped the blonde in the dark, and she slapped his cheek. The blonde thinks: That Frenchman must have tried to grope me in the dark, but missed and fondled the old lady and she slapped his cheek. The Frenchman thinks: The American must have groped the blonde in the dark. She tried to slap him but missed and got me instead. The American thinks: I can't wait for another tunnel, so I can smack that Frenchman again.

Tattoo

2008-02-27T12:44:00.000-08:00

...so it just must suck to have me as a mom sometimes. My lack of patience manifests in interesting ways.

Today, we opened up a new box of Pop Tarts. The kids were excited because there was a temporary tattoo inside.

ONE temporary tattoo.

Do you see the issue? Immediately, a fight ensued as to who would get the rights to the tattoo. The squabbling got to me. I didn't feel like doing the usual "let's put this up since you guys can't decide who gets it" routine wherein I then save it for a later time when, oh, I dunno, we get another box of Pop Tarts and hence another tattoo.

Nope. Exasperated, I grabbed it and put it on myself. "It's mine. I never get the tattoos," I whined, and to their stunned expression (and Alex's huge grin), I then proceeded to use a wet washcloth to add it to my arm. They hovered around anxiously to see the result, then giggled when they saw that mom's left arm now proudly says, "Pop Tarts...To The Moon!" with an odd graphic next to it.

If you're on Clemson's campus tomorrow, I think I'll be pretty easy to spot. It's a big ass tattoo.

My poor kids.

Who's Awesome?

2008-02-13T14:32:00.000-08:00

My daughter. That's who.

So, she did very well at that audition on the 2nd of Feb. We were told that if she were "good enough" to make the second cut, she'd have to try out again on the 23rd. We got the letter today. She does not have to try out again on the 23rd. Why, you ask?

Because she's so freakin' awesome that she's already in the damn program!!!

Ariana will be in the county-wide gifted program for drama this summer for two weeks.

I'm so excited for her that I'm not sure what to do. There's a lot of baggage attached to this particular topic that my daughter doesn't know, nor do I think it necessary for her to know because I think she'd feel pressure then to succeed FOR me. Let me give the short explanation. I always wanted to do drama, and my mom made sure I couldn't do it. See, she was afraid that if I liked it too much, I'd want to try and be an actress for a living. God forbid her daughter do something non-intellectual for a living! So, excuses were always made, lies were even told, just to keep me from being allowed to try out or do anything with theatre. Finally, in my senior year of high school, she allowed me to audition for the last two plays of the year once I had my early decision acceptance to Duke in my hands. She admitted to me many, many years later--in a moment of weakness, too, because my mother won't typically admit ever doing anything wrong--that she knew that it was "safe" to let me try out then because I hadn't built up the confidence and enjoyment with it that would make me do it in college around others who had been doing it for years (Duke has a decent drama program). She knew she had thwarted what she considered a bad career for her daughter.

One of the many, many promises I made to myself when I was pregnant that no matter what my child wanted to do, I would in no way be discouraging unless it was just something physically impossible (IE, she/he lost both legs and wanted to run in the regular Olympics). All career options were fine, regardless of status or money or education. Alex backs me up on that, which is why when Jared--who loves to wash my car with Alex, and he's very detail oriented about it too--opened up his mouth to say that he wanted to be a professional car cleaner when he grew up, we both nodded and told him he had the eye for it. The end. So, no matter what Ariana said she wanted to do or not do, I was behind her.

I just had no idea that she'd love to do drama, is all. I dunno. It almost feels like we're righting the universe here. We're correcting a tilt. She now has me telling her, if you WANT to do it, I'll support you because I KNOW you can do it. But she doesn't have me telling her she has to do it (I hate stage moms!) nor that she can't (my daughter can do damn well near anything!). Sometimes, we do get to fix things...just not in the way we expected.

****

I had my first hysterical female meltdown in class on Monday, and I was at a loss. Let me correct myself: it's not that I haven't seen a girl sniff over a bad grade, nor see a girl get anxious and panicky over a test she's just taken. I just never have had a student have a complete, total freakout to the point wherein her sobs and tears were frightening the next class coming in for whatever subject (you could see it in the students' eyes as they filed in...who IS this bitch of a teacher? Let's never take her. She makes STUDENTS CRY! haha!). The odd part is that her sobbing fit was over an 88. A grade of a B+ is not bad (esp. for me). She screamed and wailed that I had told her that her paper was crap. So, I had to ask her exactly where I did that...and of course she couldn't find those exact words on her paper because a B+ is not crap. I had just marked what she did wrong. She insisted that since I marked anything on her paper at all, that meant I thought it was crap. I then asked her if she wanted to talk to my two students who actually got papers back this last time that said "This paper sucks" on it to feel better (yes, I did do that...and have in the past...and will in the future...but those are the Ds and Fs anyway, so the kids usually figure it out by the grades. Believe it or not, the kids usually just nod, sigh, and go, you're right--I should have gotten help--and then move on). Instead, she told me that I should not expect perfection out of a paper. I said of course I don't...I don't expect perfection out of myself, either, since it's impossible. I just expect to mark off things that are wrong. So then she sobbed that she was only 19 and had just been in college for one year and so I was asking too much of her.

I wanted to tell her that I was 17 when I was off at Duke, and on the 10% of my papers that did not receive an A at that time, I did not go cry at my professors that they graded too hard or that they think ill of my writing. Never occured to me. Whatever I did, it was me. But I refrained and listened to her sob more, then demand that I fix her grade. I told her that there was nothing to fix. "I am only 19" and "You think my paper is crap" is not a reason to up a grade. A reason to up a grade is if I made a mistake while grading it. She was then astounded that I would not up her grade, and when I told her we needed to get out of the classroom so the next class could begin, she snarled between her tears, "I can't believe you won't DO anything about this!"

Why no, no I'm not.

But now I know why men want to look at women sometimes and say, "You're being irrational!" It certainly crossed my mind a kajillion times while she sobbed at me. Oh well. I guess I was overdue for a hysterical girl in one of my classes.

****

And last but not least! I'm not sure how long this will last, but I started up a blog on a topic I'm more interested in than my own life lately: food and wine.

http://levinetlepain.blogspot.com/

I can't post often on this one, so I'm not sure what makes me think I can post elsewhere. But I'm going to give it a shot!

The Good News

2008-02-02T16:37:00.001-08:00

Sometimes, good people are rewarded.

Alex was told that he would not get his work permit until the end of March.

Yet today, we got it in the mail!

Life is good. Yay!

****

Ariana was offered an audition slot for the gifted program in drama in Pickens County. If she's accepted, she gets a two week (FREE!) program over the summer related to drama and other arts. It's exciting that she was even invited to audition. Honestly, that was a surprise. I know she tried out for the drama club and was one of the 15 out of 30 to make it, but I didn't know she impressed the drama club teacher THAT much that she'd be offered this chance at a cool program. I mean, I think of my daughter as a brain--she's in the gifted academic program, Quest--but sadly, I haven't expanded my knowledge of her to fit the awesomeness of the rest of her capacity. She was also offered a tryout in voice, but she had to choose between drama and voice. Voice! My daughter can sing? Why didn't I know this???

The tryouts were today. She claims they went well (I was not allowed in the room), and she was so excited when she left. What do we do now? We wait...until two weeks from now to get an envelope in the mail that tells us if she gets to go onto tryout #2 on Feb. 22nd or not.

So, now we wait! I'm just proud of her that a) she got the invite and b) she did a great job with her audition. She tried so hard--and as my mom used to say, when you try your hardest even angels cannot do better.

Spoooookkkyyyy

2008-01-15T14:52:00.000-08:00

...so, the children are safely tucked in bed. Alex is in the living room playing on a video game. I'm in our bedroom reading essays to help with my lit classes the next day.

Suddenly, in the dark of the night, I hear my daughter--who is never, ever scared of ANYTHING, being capable of doing the tower of terror and other scary rides plus watch horror flicks that make me cry--sound panicked. That is not a good sign. "Mommmmy?" I hear. "Mommy? Please? Please?"

Oh God, I think. Something horrible has happened. I'm not sure I can even identify the fear in her voice because the girl is never scared. What happened? I immediately fling out of bed, running to her door, opening it to see her sitting up straight in her bed.

"MOMMY! Oh, goodness, Mommy...something opened up the closet door all by itself," she tells me, the terror evident in her face despite the shadows being the only light to show it. I had no idea what to answer since I saw the closet door wide open when I know I had closed it earlier myself. My breath sucked inwards, my mind scrambling to try and reassure her of what might have happened so that she could go back to sleep....

...when suddenly I see a vaguely orange flash dart by my feet and out the room.

Man, did I laugh! And Ariana--who had not seen that orange ball of fur fly by in the dusky night--said, "What, what? What, Momma?"

When I explained to her that it was only Firepaw who had gotten stuck in the closet and freed himself, she bust out laughing. We both laughed. Firepaw, on the other hand, stood outside the door in a defiant manner, as if to say, "HEY! You did not trap me! I win!"

And then Ariana settled back down to sleep without an issue, and I heard occasional giggling from her bed as if that just amused the heck out of her.

***

So, we're doing great here although immigration issues are still up in the air (but progressing!). Classes are going very well, primarily because they are filled with students who have been told to take me as a teacher. That is, my sarcasm and sharp tongue measured with kindness and concern is what they expect AND WANT, so folks are not generally upset...instead, they're happy as this is what they wanted. Although I never thought of myself as a bad teacher, I realize that it is this year--my fifth teaching--that I've hit my stride. I now know what experience can bring. Sure, there are plenty better teachers out there here and there, but I'm doing a great job in my field where I am, and the happiness that brings me? Immense. It's a good life I lead!

...just so you know...

2007-12-20T16:17:00.001-08:00

...I really am alive. I know that I've managed to post on a few of y'alls blogs over the last month and a half, but that's about all I was able to swing. I have had a lot to do with family, school (teaching and being taught), and life. I suppose we all do, but in my case, I decided that blogging took the backseat.

What's happened since the last time I posted? Let's see...first of all, immigration has had more twists and turns than I even care to discuss. Let's just say that it appears Alex will get a work permit at the end of March, and no sooner, and there's not much to be done about that one. However, at least he's still here legally meanwhile, and that gives me hope.

Secondly, Firepaw Mercutio still remains my kitty, but he has fully adapted to all other members of the family. Gosh, he's so long! I see him curl up with my elder cat, Chian, a lot these days (cold weather inspires love). They adore hogging the bed. This morning, Jared woke up and crawled into our bed, lying atop me. Firepaw was at my feet. Alex was at the other side of me. And then Chian was on my side. Every last male in the house (save for the fish) was all happily snuggled into that bed, warm and content. Firepaw wouldn't have liked that scenario a few months back--he really prefers women. But he's adjusted to the house.

Thirdly, I had a great Thanksgiving with my brother and his family. We're really looking forward to heading up there this week for Christmas, where my folks will join us as well.

Occasionally I have depressed thoughts about the financial situation and immigration issues, but otherwise I seem ok. I often wonder how I manage to be so damned happy, but there you go. I often stare at my husband sleeping and smile....or grin at the bright sun creeping into my car, warming me on a cold day...or even--gasp--feel a chuckle when my daughter has an occasional flash of preteen years wash across her face in pouts and tears. Sure, life would be easier if we had a Sims money tree, and surely life would be easier if Alex already had his green card, but really, I AM enjoying life. It's quite the contrast from when my marriage fell apart and I used to wake up in the morning crying because I was still alive. Right now, I can get blows and they aren't crippling. I like that.

This semester, I had a student who totally inspired me. She came in and talked to me a lot during the semester, and quickly when I assertained her situation, I encouraged her to leave her abusive husband for her sake and her daughter's sake. This was one hell of a smart woman who loved her child, and after a short period of time crying woe is me (plus also, 'oh god, my parents will say I told you so!'), she recovered and did what she needed to do. She went to the psychological services at school, got help from an abuse specialist, dumped on me weekly so she had a release (plus several other of her friends), and moved out! She kept up on all her schoolwork, participating in discussion in my class to the point wherein one of the other students thought she must be my TA since she knew so much. She did awesomely in all of her own classes despite her husband throwing her into a sliding glass door, punching at her, screaming at her, buying a gun and waving it at her, etc. She cried, she got out, she moved in with her parents...and kept up on all of her schoolwork, getting a 4.0 by the end of the term.

I dare any of you to do the same.

I just love this kid. She's actually Alex's age, so she's not my typical 20 yr old lit student. She's seen life, and she knows the value of this education she strives to get. She knows it's her ticket out of poverty. She knows it's the source of her daughter's hope for the future. She's brilliant, and she kept her sense of humor all the way through the horror. I ran into her at downtown Clemson, and she ran over with her friend to hug me and Alex, introducing me as her most fantastic teacher ever...bubbling over me and Alex (who came to class with me a few times this term to add to the discussion!), her new life, and the world as a whole. Wow. She sure did bounce back quickly!

I look at her, at Brenda, at Student Z, at so many of the remarkable flickers of flame that danced before me as students over the years...and realize I just LOVE this profession. I was meant for it. I am facinated by those who face difficulty, who reach out, who recover, who soar in the sky after it all. And I just feel honored to be a part of that process.

It's not like I don't get the occasional shithead. This term, I had a student who actually inspired flashes of hatred in me from time to time. That has never happened before--not even with Stephen, who was a holy terror to Amanda at Tech and then, after failing her class, arrived cheerily in my door (it's hard to smile at a student you know physically threatened another teacher in front of a room full of students who tried to interfere for fear of their teacher's wellbeing). This guy took the case. He cheated on a quiz and was caught, never listened to what I said, inserted only stupid commentary into discussion, left class frequently to go take a 10 min piss, and ACTUALLY HIT ON ME IN FRONT OF MY HUSBAND. No really, he was that stupid. He didn't realize that the guy in my office was not my officemate but Alex, and he started talking about my gorgeous eyes until Alex turned around to get a better look at the asskisser who was saying it all. At that point, this guy sputtered and shut up before switching the subject. Alex thought it was funny, but it just added to the annoyance for me. So, it's not like none of them ever drive me up the wall.

But seriously? This has got to be the best profession in the universe. Ok, so the pay sucks. I will grant you that instantly. But the vacation time is great if you're a mom, and the rewards are tremendous. After exams this term, I had more than TEN students come to me and tell me they never liked an English class before mine, and that they'd be recommending my classes to all their friends, plus take more with me if they could. Warm fuzzies everywhere! I know I don't reach them all, but when I see the ones I DO reach, I feel like I'm making a difference.

Ariana turned ten and Jared turned seven this month. Argh! That was the only other thing I can think of that is monumental. It's interesting to me, but since Ariana is so much like me, when she has fits that leave Jared and Alex perplexed (pre-teen moments...which get worse as teen moments, of course), I handle it like a pro. I know what to say! I know what to do! It still drives me nuts, but I feel like a total success here. I'll leave Jared to Alex since those two are very similar temperment wise too. It will be scary to have a third baby (if we manage to do so). Who will he or she resemble? Will we be able to figure out his or her needs? So far, luck has been on our side. Do we dare risk it?

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?

Isn't that always the question to ask?

Merry Christmas, folks!

What Brews In My Head

2007-11-03T17:43:00.000-07:00

It's been a rough month. When all else has failed, I tried to remember this portion of my previous French essay:

Alors, j’ai de la chance. J’ai une bonne famille et des bons amis. Tout va bien.

I AM lucky. I have a great family and great friends, so all must always be good.

Sometimes I wonder how I manage to be darned happy no matter what life throws at me.

See, in the last month I have lived daily with the actuality that Alex would be forced to leave the country by November 10th (deported, forced, has to take a jet plane...whatever you like). Immigration has screwed us over so many times that I can't even count. The last incident was that they wanted to send Alex to LONDON, as they messed up (long story). Then it was worse than we thought. We got a message from the American Embassy that we had to gather documents and then call them to tell them we had them so he could have his interview (the final step for his green card).

Problem: the number CAN ONLY BE CALLED FROM ENGLAND.

Another problem: we can't have somebody like Cookie call for us (and I know he would because he rocks!) because it has to be me or Alex who calls.

Third problem: Alex tried to email them that he was in America and couldn't call, but he did have his documents and could we have an appointment now?

Fourth problem: we received an answer email that stated, this email has been deleted because we don't read your fucking emails you stupid bastards unless we ASK you to email us.

Sigh.

So what do we do now? Well, after hours on the phone with immigration, we find out that there is another option: FILL OUT ANOTHER FORM, give immigration $1010 we don't have, and lo, we can have Alex not be forced out of the country on the 10th! Then we can have the appointment here in America...six to twelve months from now. Sigh. So we had to fill out the form in a hurry, pay a place to do a certified translation of two French documents they needed ($80 more down the hole), and overnight the application. Theoretically, they got it on Friday so they can't make Alex go away. He also applied for a Work Permit, which if they don't screw us over again, should have him working by February.

We are broke.

We have, thanks to the weakened dollar, about $750 per month I have to transfer to his French account for his student loans to pay back his in-euros loan (they make 'em pay 'em back in five years instead of ten, and they allow for NO personal circumstances to interfere with that payback time). We need him working. But he won't start working until February or whenever they give him the work permit. His green card won't follow for at least another three to six months.....

....but shit, as long as he's not deported, I'm ok.

Every night I wake up three to four times, stare at his snoring form, his smooth back, his strong jawline, his dark hair and light skin contrasting with a shiny satin blue pillowcase, begging the divine to not take him away from me. It's my biggest fear. I find the best thing ever in my life, and he's forced to leave. I hope immigration gets that paperwork and processes it and lets him stay. I can't take it otherwise, and neither can my kids.

Yet, when I think of how great my life is, I can't...get mad about this. It's hard to describe. I have a man in my life who makes everything easier. The kids are healthier and happier than they've ever been. We have so much fun. We laugh, we giggle, we goof around. How great is it that we've even had this much fun? How great is it that I have a man who is terrific beyond belief in my life?

I mean, my definition of sexy has changed. It used to be, bad boy, hot body, smells good.

Now, we still have smells good as an item, but more importantly is...doesn't mind changing diapers...plays chess with my six year old son for two hours and patiently teaches him all the rules...vacuums...mops...tucks in Ariana and Jared with a smile on his face every single night...doesn't mind being woken up at 3a for "activity"...cleans up the kitchen when I cook...brings me flowers for no reason at all...takes care of all the excel spreadsheets for my classes...gives me a massage every night....THAT is freakin' sexy to me! So, I have him. I will have him, even if there are roadblocks. My kids rock, we can pay our bills, and my friends are oh so supportive. HOW can I complain? Yes, immigration is being a butthead. But one day it'll all be ok! That's so much more than most ever get. I'm grateful.

****

What else is going on? Well, Ariana was the top reader in the whole school for the first nine weeks thanks to Harry Potter. And no, neither of us give a rat's ass if Dumbledore was gay. My son has to have speech therapy because he can't pronounce R, L, TH, and S correctly. He'll get R corrected easily enough, the professional says, because he says it right in the middle of the word but not in front of the word. The others will be a problem because his tongue goes in the wrong direction entirely for them. She told us it's hard work only that will get him on track. But you know what? My son DOES work hard on everything. He's so orderly and hardworking! It'll eventually be ok. Firepaw is still my baby, but Ariana is definitely a good replacement. She hauls the cat around like he's a purse...and he's ok with that...haha! He's got a tummy now because after neutering, he more easily gains weight. Both cats, though, are doing great right now (so's the fish). I guess you could say we're all fine here. There's the usual bumps in the road, but I honestly feel pretty ok with them. I know they'll pass. After all, the last thing left in Pandora's box was hope....

The Bullet List

2007-10-06T20:54:00.000-07:00

Here we go!

1) Total Wine and More wants to hire me. I'm not joking. I went to a wine tasting more than a week ago, and one of the wine managers approached me. He said that since I knew basic French plus knew more about French wines than most people could ever know, they wanted to hire me to obtain back the business from Michelin they once had. WOW. We chatted for a while, and I realized...this is awesome. The wine geeks consider me an equal, even though I only know about French wines like a pro and NOT the rest of the world!!! WOOHOO! He offered me a part time job, but I seriously do not have the time for it right now. Maybe next spring. I dunno. A 30% discount is too tempting...

2) My kitten, Firepaw Mercutio, is in the hall of fame for cuteness. I leave for work, he hides under the bed; I return from work, he comes out and stays between my legs when I walk or lies next to me while I read and/or type. I haven't had my own cat in years. Ariana, when she was born almost ten years ago, stole Chian from me (my 15 yr old). I have no other pets save for a fish. There's something amazing about being worshipped. It makes me feel good.

3) Speaking of being worshipped...I came home from yet another day of a crappy day of work this week, and what happened? Alex used the $20 I gave him to spend ON HIMSELF for something HE WANTED (look, money is tight and we both have very little personal money to spend right now) and bought me a hand-picked box of Godiva chocolates. The box had all my favorite flavors in it...I mean all! Geesh. How does he keep track of this? And I don't understand him at this point. After having a student cry in my office for two hours over her jackass hubby--a man she once claimed to me was her prize for having suffered through her first husband--I realize totally what a freak my hubby is. And I'm ok with that. Alex is not what women expect out of men, and I get to keep him. I get constant backrubs, bubble baths, help with kids, housework, nightly massages, and a smiling face no matter what. No, it doesn't go away. Yes, I'm the luckiest girl in the universe.

4) Ariana is now on book number five of Harry Potter, and I'm flabbergasted at how fast the non-reader has absorbed these books. I guess I'll have to think of her as a reader from now on out.

5) Jared likes to hurl himself at me whenever he sees Alex kiss me. And stand in between us, too. Somebody loves momma!

6) I realize that as time goes on, I'm a better person because the man I'm with MAKES me a better person. Thank you, Alex my love.

7) Did I tell y'all that Alex has to go to FREAKING LONDON for his interview for his green card? Yup. Immigration made a series of mistakes, and that's where we're at. However, we're lucky enough that once he goes to London (thank you mom and dad for buying us his ticket!), he should have his green card after the interview. Then he can work. And then we won't be conserving every penny to the point of pain.

8) Yes, we're visiting Grant again next weekend. Look, he spoils me rotten when we go and I feel refreshed when we return. As long as he wants us there, I'm going to give him my next available weekend. Period. The man is terrific, and those of you who did not pick that up...well, I feel sorry for you :)

9) I have too much to grade and/or review by Monday.

10) ...but then Monday onwards for another week or so, I have it easy. Yay!

11) French is still going well, but I can't figure out why the interrogatives are so rough for me to hear and understand

12) I have awesome family, awesome friends, awesome pets, and I can pay my bills. My life is amazing. Thanks, you guys!

What I should be doing now...

2007-09-26T17:18:00.001-07:00

...is reviewing papers for the student conferences I have tomorrow with my Eng 103s. Or sleeping, considering that last night I woke up at 330a to catch up on my French. But here I am, aware that it's been a really, really long time since I put up a blog post. Yup, I'm alive.

My French teacher told me that all the teachers she's ever had take her classes drop out because they can't handle how intense it is alongside teaching too. I completely understand what she means at this point, but I'm not giving up. Nope. So far, I've gotten As and A+s on everything, and that's too hard-earned to drop now. My best effort was my first composition. I admit fully that I enjoyed that part...me, my books all sprawled across my bed, and four hours to produce one page and a paragraph. I, who can easily spit out four pages per hour in English, took forever with this essay in a foreign language, but I was amazed that I had a result that I was pleased with in the end. It's the SPOKEN part of the language--thinking on my feet, having Frenchmen and Frenchwomen instantly correcting me, sounding like an American buffoon--that intimidates the most. Writing? I don't care what language it is. Writing is always exhilarating. Maybe I'll attach my essay at the end of this post for those of you who can read French (hmm...what's that, Laurita and Angie?).

The main huge change in our household right now has been the addition of THE KITTENATOR. That's what I started calling Firepaw Mercutio after we decided to keep him, and he decided to do typical kitten things around the house. He attacks the TV because, well, things move across it! He attacks Chian because a 15-yr-old cat doesn't fight back so much as complain. Yesterday, he almost toppled over the fish tank because betas swim so prettily, you know, and he just had to catch one. We hadn't intended to have another cat right now since we clearly can't afford it, but it happened by accident (it always does). Angie wanted to find a home for this cute orange tabby that her daughter found, and I told her that we simply couldn't take it. Then she mentioned on her blog that the kitten would have to go to a shelter because they just couldn't take in another cat and, well, the no-kill shelter would be full for the next six weeks. Stupidly, I volunteered to take on this kitten--then called only "Mercutio"--as a foster child for six weeks until that opening came up in the no-kill shelter.

Alex, the kids, and I have decided we can't foster squat. If it's living, we want to keep it.

So once we determined that the kitten would be kept, Ariana decided that Mercutio was too much of a mouthful, so she named him Firepaw (after a cat character in a Cat Warriors book she read and loved). We kept Mercutio as the middle name, took him to the vet's, and spent way too much money getting him dewormed, vaccinated, neutered, and deflea'd. Also, he needed a hernia operation too. He's doing great now. We're worried that he must be Maine Coon, though, because he is growing waaaay too fast and too long for a normal kitten. Still, we all love him! He's actually **MY** kitten. Only I can call him out from under the bed with simply a kissy noise. He follows me around like a dog. He loves to curl up in my hair or around my side. His second favorite seems to be Ariana, so I am guessing that Firepaw is a cat who loves chicks. Ari has created an entire Kitten Paradise in her room for Firepaw, and he loves playing in it. Nobody knows what Firepaw will do next, though...it's the nature of kittens. Sometimes he grabs in his teeth a pair of Alex's shorts or his shirt and just drags it around the house. Or he takes one of Ariana's stuffed animals and hides it under the dining room table. Surely we are not bored.

Ari just went on her first overnight field trip with the Quest folks (gifted program) from her school. She came back all abuzz and filled with the joy of learning. I'm glad for her. I just wish that the students who aren't so bright also had those opportunities too. Heck, maybe they ARE that bright but since they weren't raised in an enriched environment and never taken seriously at school, they just stare at the walls. How would we know? I really wish all kids could get to do the fun stuff that Ari does in Quest.

Ariana also found out that she's now the top reader in the fourth grade, and she's the fourth best reader in the school. That amazes me since she's always loved math more than reading. It was the Cat Warriors series, and now it's Harry Potter. She actually goes and holes herself up in her room for hours now, just reading. That sure does bring back memories.

Jared is doing great in school. His teacher fits his learning style PERFECTLY. She didn't fit Ariana's style at all, but the second Ari had her for first grade, I thought...wow, I hope she's around for Jared because she'd be perfect for him. This is her LAST year, so we really lucked out! Ms. R is amazing with her regulations, order, and love. It's just the mix that Jared needs (vs. Ari who needs flexibility and chaos!). One of the humorous things Jared did shows clearly how his mind works. He was to write the numbers backwards, per the instructions, from ten to one. The number five was inserted in the middle just to give them the idea. Well, what does Jared do? He writes the number backwards...and also backwards. That is, he writes after 10 the number 9 (inverted), 8 (normally because it's the same way front and back), 7 (inverted), etc., all the way back to 1. Hahahaha! Man, that made me laugh. Ms. R thought it was great too. He takes instructions so literally!

My only concern for Jared is his inability to correctly pronounce about three letters, and so he's being evaluated at school by a speech therapist. She did a screen and decided he really DID need a full-blown evaluation, so that's where we're at. It's a genetic issue from his dad's side. Several of them have needed speech therapy as young ones and ended up ok in the long run, so I know it'll be fine. He just will have to work at it.

We did get to bother Grant down in Atlanta one weekend since I last blogged. He fed us well as per usual. We watched tons of movies, and we had a great time. That's really been the only relaxing part of my life since I started school back up. I don't mind the stress because it's GOOD stress. That is, I have two lit classes, and I have a lot of work to do with them (reading, reading, grading, and reading). Since they are new to me, I've had to spend more time on them than my two 103 classes (I've done them before and can do them in my sleep). Then there's French. I want to learn it, and so I study, study, study, but it's so damned hard for me. I have many gifts, but languages beyond English is not one of those talents I possess. I still will not give up! And Alex makes it so much fun, too. We laugh and toss off slang and rude phrases as I do my workbook, and it suddenly becomes enjoyable.

So, that's about it! Oh, and below is my essay. There are a few little mistakes that I didn't catch nor know to catch (like when I say Spanish as a language, there is no "e" on espagnole...it's supposed to be espagnol...but I was right to make it feminine when it modifies "vache," or cow, a feminine verb). Alex also gave me two past tense verbs we had not learned, plus he taught me how to tell folks I liked fantasy and science fiction. Otherwise, it's me! And I managed to put my heart in it somehow...isn't that part of good writing? Go ahead! Encourage me! Haha!

*****

A Propos de Moi

Je suis de Tampa en Floride. Ma mère et mon père vivent toujours à Tampa. J’ai deux frères et une sœur, mais ils ne vivent pas à Tampa. Aussi, j’ai six nièces et deux neveux, et j’ai une fille et un fils. J’aime mes enfants. Ma fille est belle, amusante, brillante, intéressante et charmante. Bien sur ! C’est ma fille ! Aussi, mon fils est heureux, agréable, intelligent et sympa. Il est si mignon. Bien sur ! C’est mon fils ! Je suis heureuse parce que mon mari est fabuleux aussi. Mon mari est de France. Son nom est Alexander Sol.

J’étudie le français. Aussi, j’enseigne la littérature anglaise à Clemson. J’aime étudier les livres sur le vin et la cuisine. J’aime manger et boire, surtout le fromage, le chocolat et le vin ! Je lis beaucoup de livres. J’aime l’héroïque fantaisie et la science fiction, mais j’aime aussi la littérature anglaise. J’écoute de la musique, et j’aime beaucoup des genres différents. Pourtant, je n’écoute pas de country.

Ma mère parle espagnole, mais elle ne m’a pas enseigne l’espagnole. Je lis le latin et le vieil anglais un peu. Je ne parle pas de langue utile. Je désire parler le français, mais je parle français comme une vache espagnole. Je désire parler le français mieux qu’une vache espagnole. Peut-être que je pourrais parler le français comme un panda au lieu d’une vache.

J’ai deux chats et un poisson. Je n’ai pas une maison. Je désire une grande maison. Je ne désire pas payer pour une grande maison.

Ma meilleure amie est Lee Large. Elle est une productrice de télévision. Elle vit à Tampa. Elle aime lire, et elle aime manger, boire et danser. J’aime Lee. Elle est amusante, intelligente, intéressante, sincère et sympa. Je désire que Lee vive ici.

Alors, j’ai de la chance. J’ai une bonne famille et des bons amis. Tout va bien.

A Late Night Post

2007-08-13T21:05:00.000-07:00

It's late, and I'm posting. Why? Well, Alex is talking to his brother James and the kids are in bed. In other words, I actually have a free moment.

We've had the extreme blessing of James visiting us these last two weeks. He leaves on Sunday. I can certainly say that I'll miss him when he goes. He's an easy houseguest, and the kids adore him. At first, Alex was finishing up his internship at Michelin, so I was in charge of entertainment. I took James here and there and cooked up a storm. Proudly, I can say that James announced that he wasn't sure he wanted to go to restaurants in America when I cooked better than most of them. Man, I swelled with pride over that one. He even said I cooked better than his father (who cooks for restaurants in France!). Since James is not prone to random flattery, I will hold his words to my heart and cherish them.

We've taken James all around the area (twin falls, Clemson University, shopping malls, you name it!). We've taken James to Gervais and Vine (and he agreed that it was actually a fantastic restaurant...wooohoo!). We've also subjected James to our Wii.

Now, for those of you non-geeks out there, let me explain: the Wii will suck you in. I'm sorry, but it's true. We took it to my brother's house, and he's NEVER touched a video game. When I was a child, he stared at my Atari and scoffed at it. He has not picked up a single video game that I have ever seen. But lo, he sure as hell played Wii Sports Baseball against Alex when we were last in Raleigh. WOW. My niece, Jill, who also never ever plays video games became obessed with Cooking Mama and the Wii Play/Wii Sports disks that we brought. This is truly the video game system that even snags the "bah, humbug, video games!" set. My back hurts from doing Wii boxing. Alex lathers up into a sweat every single day due to the Wii. I'm not surprised that I've heard incidents of it being used for physical therapy in old folks' homes and that folks use it for exercise. No other video game console makes you work for your fun this way! It's really a good thing we love it this much, though. We had to hunt a month for it before we snagged one. They're still in short supply, but I can highly recommend them if it's your bag. Or even if it's not.

What else is going on? Ariana has read through five books in three weeks, a new world record for her. These cat warrior books by Erin Hunter are totally sucking out her soul. I wonder if it's the topic...or if the reading bug has finally bitten her? Only time will tell. Jared lost his first tooth, and I think Amanda can testify that he looks amazingly cute with it gone. Alex is going through immigration hell right now. I thought it would be resolved by Sept, but now it looks like Oct. Foilwoman gave me some advice, and I'll see what I can apply to speed things up. Sigh. We have three months. Last Sat., his student visa expired as he graduated from USC. Then he gets three months here, and he must leave at that point back for France unless we've fixed the green card situation.

Mind you, we applied back in January.

And also mind you, the kids and I will be so very sad if this can't work out before he has to go back. I am an adult; I can handle it. However, the kids really can't have their main dad go away. I can only hope things work out before then.

What else? Well, I have two different lit classes for this fall! I will teach Brit Lit (very happy doing that...lots of experience) and World Lit (not as much experience, but we'll make it!). I also have two 103s, and those I can do in my sleep at this point. I start back at the same day my kids do. It's been a great summer, but we can sure use that pay....

Otherwise, hopefully Grant will actually COME UP HERE for once. He has never seen our humble abode. We've always gone down to see him, and he's treated us royally to encourage that. But he's now made noises that he might visit us here...wow! I can't give him even a tenth of the excitement of Atlanta, but it'd be great to have him here anyway. He's become one of my closest friends, and I met him over the net. Alex loves him too. So, whenever anybody makes fun of you for making friends through a computer, remember this: it's how I met my husband, and it's how I met Grant. I also have a dozen other friends I met here...plus many from my so-called real life. I truly don't think one medium is superior from another. Friends are friends, and it's so very lucky and fantastic to get another one no matter when and where!

Hope y'all are doing great too!

Trips and More Trips

2007-07-26T11:29:00.001-07:00

So, earlier this month I headed out with the kids to Florida to visit my parents, plus attend a surprise 40th birthday party for my friend Rio. Rio is his nickname; we all called him that when we were in high school, but admittedly I'm the only one who still insists on doing so. He doesn't mind, though. Everybody else calls him Jorge. Rio lives in St. Louis with his lovely wife and adorable little girl. He has his own business that makes documentaries or instruction films or whatever else a company needs in that media. Because it's his own business, he really can't just up and leave most times. In this particular case, a beloved cousin of his was getting married and his little girl was to be the flower girl. So, they all flew in for the weekend, and although his wife knew of the surprise party being thrown by Rio's mom, Rio was kept in the dark successfully until the last minute. It was a blast! All of the most important people from my high school years were there. I keep in touch with all of them, but we rarely get to see each other in person. These guys have always been a lifeline to me. They are the sort of folks to do things like, oh, burn one of their two weeks of vacation that year to come up and tile my kitchen and dining room floor (that'd be Rob and Madella). Or to realize that I probably need a washer a dryer right away when I move out of hell and into my own apartment, and so immediately mail me a check for $800 (that'd be Lee). They're my pack. They're my tribe. Here's something that I learned long ago: make friends with the geeks. We never drank or had sex or went wild; we went to movies, ordered out pizza, and played Dungeons and Dragons. Geeks are loyal and loving, and when the chips are down, all geek friends help out as best as they can. Well, at least, that's been my experience!

I was AMAZED when I saw Lee. She's lost 70 lbs since I last saw her in Sept of 2006. I haven't seen her that skinny since she was a senior in high school! However, more importantly than the weight issue--after all, my Lee has always been beautiful no matter what she's weighed or what her age or whatever has happened because she's just got the most gorgeous soul--was her mental and spiritual health. I have never seen Lee positive on a consistent basis and content with life to boot. Now I have. It made me feel very happy for her. Lee also was turning 40 this month (on the 20th), so she wanted to go out to Pleasure Island to celebrate. PI is a bar/club area owned by Disney in Orlando. Then we decided, hell, if we're in Orlando we should eat at an Emeril's restaurant too...we ate at the asian themed one, and it was awesome! After that, we met up with three of her girlfriends from work to do the dancing thing. It was only the third (3rd) time in my life I've gone dancing. I totally surprised myself by loving it. However, my lack of experience in a social setting with dancing led to an awkward moment for me. Most of the time, I was dancing with the girls. That was great fun. Earlier on in the evening, a guy had come up to Lee and I and handed us some drinks, saying we "won the prize" as being "the only two women here under 300 lbs." He had no idea how offensive that was to Lee after she realized that last year, he'd have put her in that category before she lost the weight! He stuck around us for a while, group dancing with Lee, me, and her three friends. When he left, I figured that was the end of guys being around us and wanting to dance, and that was fine by me. Alex had to remain back here in SC because of work, and I didn't really feel like dancing with an inferior man ;) Anyway, later on in the evening, this guy who was probably ten years younger than me (WHAT is it with younger men and me? WHY don't men my own age or older ever hit on me?) just started...dancing with me. What's the protocol there? Well, I had no idea, but I decided that it was fine to dance with him as long as I made no eye contact to encourage him to, well, you know, think it was more than dancing. Lee told me later on that he was a very attractive guy with a very defined body because his shirt was buttoned down. Oblivious me didn't notice that because I was too busy wondering what one did when a guy just comes up and dances with you. Then he tried to dance....well, what do you call it? Salsa? Where the guy and girl are basically having sex with their clothes on while they're on the dance floor? His hands started to appear on my body, and I panicked. In retrospect, I'm glad I didn't just slug him (my first instinct). Instead, I mouthed over to Lee, "HELP ME!", so she carted me off the dance floor. Then she instructed me on how to handle the situation and keep a guy dancing with you but his hands off. I took notes on her technique, and I shall remember for the future. Lee got a kick out of it because she said, wow...all these girls in our group are single except you, and he had to single you out! He really lost out there! That made me laugh. I was wearing my wedding ring, of course, but you can't see that so well on a dancing girl in a dark room, I suppose. Or else he didn't care. I've noticed a lot of folks don't care about the married issue. Anyway! After I escaped the situation, I was able to calm down enough to feel flattered. I'm getting older and I've picked up a little weight over the years, but baby, I still got it...haha!

My mom taught Jared how to swim. She had already taught Ariana two or three years ago, so it was Jared's turn. She taught all of us how to swim and half of her grandchildren to boot. It's a talent I do not possess (teaching a child to swim, that is...as far as swimming itself goes, I swim like a fish!).

Lee also got me to help her pick out wines for a wine tasting she was going to hold. That was a BLAST! The chain is called "Cork and Olive," and they sell more obscure wines from smaller producers plus gourmet olive oil and dipping spices. You can walk in there at any time of day and get samples of some of their wines and the olive oil. Neat store. Anyway, they throw wine tastings if you request them, and they send out one of their wine educators with the wine to elucidate the product to the audience--also very cool. It ends up being sort of like a pampered chef party in that if the group orders a lot, you get discounts and free stuff as the host(ess). So, there I was babbling to Lee about this wine and that one and this piece of information or that, and the wine educator/store owner stared at me, blinked, and said, "Ok, here's how it works: I will give you the wines and YOU go to the wine tasting and do the talking!" I was so incredibly flattered when he added that he was learning a lot just from listening to me. All this studying and interest has really paid off!

And speaking of that, when we got home I attended a wine tasting/wine class at the local Total Wine and More. This class was on Burgundy, and I enjoyed it. I realized that I knew just about all the information that the wine educator shared with us on the region, plus a few things more. I DID learn a couple of new things, too, and got to try a hell of a lot of good wines. I think I made a new friend, too. I deliberately sat next to Daniesha as she just gave off a familiar aura that made me feel very comfortable. We started chatting. She's very new to the wine scene and knows nothing. When I say nothing, I mean she also has problems locating wine regions and placing them in the right country because she has a typical American background in world geography. However, she does NOT want to keep in the dark any longer! It's the teacher in me that makes me fall all over myself to help folks who are that motivated to learn. We had a blast throughout the two hour class, and then I took her around the store afterwards to get some more wine. We decided that we'd always sit together during the next wine tastings that were coming up. So much fun!

This weekend, we head to Raleigh to see my brother and his family. And then, right after that, Alex's brother James comes for a visit from France. I thought the summer was supposed to be free time and relaxation, but I have to say that I feel busier now than I did during the school year. Whew! Anyway, we are so enjoying this summer. I hope y'all are doing the same!

There is nowhere to run nor hide

2007-07-08T20:53:00.000-07:00

I can't hide from being a geek. I'm female, which bucks against the trend, but oh well! I had been talking to a friend, Amy, and telling her about my most favorite computer game ever: Baldur's Gate. Afterwards, I wanted to play it again. Alex loaded it up on my computer, and I spent around five hours today playing on it while sipping wine. That's how I spend my kid free time. I bet none of you can say the same!

Amy has been coming over every Saturday for several weeks now. Well, except last Sat. when she had us and some other of her friends over at her house. I'm not even sure how this arrangement happened. I'm usually lousy at communicating with friends and inviting them to do anything. Somehow it became a standing date. She continues to write down the names of cheeses and wines that I serve. I can't even tell you how much that flatters me. I can babble on and on about wine, and she listens (and is interested!). Wow. The best part is that babbling to her reinforces my learning, so it's very good for me to be "allowed" to do it.

But that brings me to my current musing: how on Earth do we get the interests that we love? Everybody is different in what they enjoy doing in their free time. I realize that some of it may be environment, but the rest has to be genetics. Is there anything that you like to do with your free time that makes you aware that most folks don't share that same passion? For me it's definitely that wine subject. Yesterday, I sat down and read for an hour on the different pinot noir clones used in Burgundy, and it excited me. What the hell is wrong with me? And then today, as I mentioned, I spent about five hours on a fantasy computer game that came out like 8 yrs ago. There was nothing I'd rather do. Any time you read another blog, you can see what energy drives that blogger. Sometimes you understand it as it matches your own; sometimes you stare at it and ponder because it's nothing you'd ever care about. How does that happen?

I feel like as an English teacher, I should always be concerned about literature. But--although I love really great books and short stories that manage to inspire me--my main focus is anything I can consume or anything that takes me to another world. Food and wine drive me; fantasy and science fiction spark my creativity. These elements have always been a part of what makes Kira Kira. Sometimes I get other interests, but those are more understandable. For instance, I spent my entire (unexpected) pregnancy with Ariana reading about pregnancy, infants, and toddlers. I just wanted more information on what I was getting myself into! That makes sense. But why does X. dell have such a facination with conspiracies? Or Grant on Japanese culture? Or Amanda on seafood, specifically shrimp? Or Angie on certain educational theorists? I am truly interested in what makes us love what we love. I am painfully aware that some of my friends would find my fantasy books, my obscene 70 recipe books collection, and my wine lore interests boring even if they love me. What makes some people fixate on geometry proofs, James Joyce, or gorgeous designer handbags? How do we end up with the very detailed interests we have?

Pre-Emptive Strike

2007-06-29T06:58:00.000-07:00

...so, recently a fellow blogger had a crisis in her life that entailed what I had thought--from all descriptions provided--was a great guy. The weirdness of her breakup disturbed me because he did so many of the nice things that Alex does for me, and I always wonder if Alex's for real because he's wonderfully different from all other men I know. It made me stare at Alex and puzzle over if one day he'd flip out for no reason. I worry about that sometimes too because my ex flipped out suddenly, and I never thought it would have ended like that. It took me forever to learn to trust Alex because I kept waiting for the day I'd wake up and he'd be screaming. It never happened. It still hasn't. Alex is very aware that this is a fear of mine, too, because I've brought it up a few times. When are you going to stop being so perfect and not annoying, I've asked him? It usually makes him smile.

So, I brooded about this other man and his actions for a couple of days. Then, as Alex was in the middle of cleaning, I turned to him and said, eyes wide with panic, oh Alex thank you for not...

...and he cut me off! And with a sly grin he said, oh Kira thank you so very much for not doing X, Y, and Z (all the things I was going to say to him, basically, except he turned it on me). Thank you for being wonderful and with me and loving, he finished up, and I stared at him and laughed. He really knows me that well at this point, and he knows how to calm me down. That was nice.

****

I will never tire of constant massage, bubble baths, flowers, and chocolate. However, the man who vacuums and mops is truly the most sexy.

****

My nine and a half year old daughter has started to have some chest development. I'm sure one day she'll be thrilled that I just blogged about this and request additional money for therapy. But anyway! I am so confused about it all. I DO NOT want teen years to come soon, and here is the first day of spring so to speak. I mean, I want my children to grow up healthy and happy, but when they do start to grow up, there's so much more to worry about. And then one day they leave. It's all so scary....

Today's Funny

2007-06-27T10:52:00.000-07:00

...my Dad sent me this one via email, and I had to share:

The 6th grade science teacher, Mrs. Parks, asked her class, "Which human body part increases to ten times its size when stimulated?"

No one answered until little Mary stood up and said, "You should not be asking sixth-graders a question like that! I'm going to tell my parents, and they will go and tell the principal, who will then fire you!"

Mrs. Parks ignored her and asked the question again, "Which body part increases to 10 times its size when stimulated?"

Little Mary's mouth fell open. Then she said to those around her, "Boy is she going to get in big trouble!"

The teacher continued to ignore her and said to the class, "Anybody?"

Finally, Billy stood up, looked around nervously, and said, "The body part that increases 10 times its size when stimulated is the pupil of the eye." Mrs. Parks said, "Very good, Billy," then turned to Mary and continued. "As for you, young lady, I have three things to say: One, you have a dirty mind. Two, you didn't read your homework. And, three,one day you are going to be very, very disappointed."

What I Learned

2007-06-19T05:59:00.000-07:00

I loved being in Louisville for the readings. We happened to be stationed in one location with the French lit/language readers and the statistics readers too. I never really spoke to the statistics readers, but I had a blast meeting some of the French readers. Most of them were Americans who had a passion for France, but I had this facinating hours-long conversation with one French woman who had moved here 30 yrs ago, giving up her country out of love for her husband. 30 years later, she facinated me by how French she remained in so many ways, yet how she had also adapted to the parts of America that appealed to her. She gave me this pep talk about learning French, too...she scolded me for being unwilling to try to say and prounounce words/phrases in conversation because that's the only way I'll learn (she's right). She told me how frustrated she was when she studied in England for a year at first because she was so scared to speak in English, even though she understood a lot, and when she finally decided "this is silly--I need to just speak," she made numerous embarrassing errors. But only through those errors did she become the fluent speaker that she is today. I could only hear a faint hint of her French accent. Her vocabulary and grammar were flawless. It was a message I need to hear a lot, I suppose.

The food sucked. Now, even though I can be quite picky about some foods due to my own explorations in the kitchen, on the whole I'm easy to please. Or at least, it's easy to get me to say that the food is "decent" at a minimum. But no--it SUCKED. I started skipping dinner even though it was free and eating fruit and pretzels instead because after breakfast and lunch, I couldn't face the cafeteria again. If they had kept me there for two months, I would have lost all the weight I needed to lose. My problem is that I love good food. But I hate bad food, and I will refuse to eat it even when on the edge of starvation, so all you have to do is make it so that the bad food options are all I get. That will never happen at home...

The AP English lit folks like to make 60% of us college teachers and 40% of us high school teachers. The high school teachers fight for the right to go grade and often wait years to get to go. Obviously, if they teach AP English, this experience can help them immensely as they prepare their kids for the exam. It's harder to convince college teachers to go, so I think that I'll be invited back next year. Even though I missed Alex and the kids like crazy, I liked hanging out with other literary geeks and enjoyed the experience on the whole. The grading pace was insane, and I'm glad I won't be looking at more student essays for the rest of the summer. Here's what I learned:

1) A disabled person is "handied cap."
2) George Orwell apparently wrote a sequel I never read entitled 1985
3) The Great Gatsby is by Oscar Wilde, and the main female character is Ophelia
4) Hamlet and Macbeth are easily mistaken for one another
5) When in doubt, make up a new word. My favorite was "dishoveled" (and apparently, from scanning the net, this is a popular new word--it creates an interesting mental image, so maybe we'll get that one in the dictionary one day! I think it's more interesting than "disheveled")
6) Students really just want to write on Moby Dick so that they can have the opportunity to scribble out the phrase "sperm whale." Or, even better, "Giant Albino Sperm Whale."
7) We had one essay supposedly on The Death of a Salesman that identified the title character as Stanley Lowman. One of my tablemates renamed the work Death of a Streetcar.

Then there were the funny sentences that amused us:

1) In reference to The Sun Also Rises and the main character's inability to get it up, thereby causing problems in the relationship with the woman he loved: "Doesn't he have two hands and a mouth? There are many ways to pleasure a woman!"
2) "I don't know what syntax means; however, that won't stop me from trying to write about it."
3) In reference to The Scarlett Letter: "Too bad Hester didn't live in New York City instead of Boston. No one would have cared there." (IE, about her adulterous affair)
4) "They were badly mistreated; in fact, they were killed." (I'm not sure killing is really THAT bad of a mistreatment....)
5) "Without a past, the future would be impossible" (no, really! ya think?)
6) "Past relationships have caused people to become bitter; high school has driven people insane."
7) About Faust: "The demonic pact was a bad call on Faustus's part, but he was old already."

Some of the essays were, as my table leader said, "mercifully brief," so when I said that I graded over 1000 essays, some of them were just a paragraph or two long (my question was the last one, so sometimes the students ran out of time). Then we occasionally had kids who didn't care about the exam who would draw pictures and write quirky stuff inside the book instead. So, it's not like it was 1000 essays of 6 pages, but damn it was still a lot!

Anyway, I am now glad to have my summer to myself. Life is good right now--for the first time in years, we're ok with money over the summer, and that relief is amazing. I'm used to surviving over the summer on a few thousand dollars less than we have available to us, but since Alex's internship is paid, we're doing ok. I stare at my checkbook and go, "Oh wow, there's still money in there!!!" What a nice feeling. I hope it continues!

Back Again

2007-06-14T19:47:00.000-07:00

I had a week plus at the AP English Lit conference in Louisville, KY, and I'll write about it soon. I'm just now recovering. I had thought about contacting SC to see him, but then I realized that this was my first year and I'd be jumping through hoops (plus my 91 yr old grandma lived there and I wanted to visit on my free time). It was busy as hell. I graded over 1000 essays. My brain leaked out of my ears. Yet, I would do it again.... I have to admit that it was the first real conference I've ever been to with tons of English lit folks, and the day a bunch of us rode the elevator and seven of us started reciting the General Prologue to the Canterbury Tales in middle English, I knew immediately why so many folks went to these things. Wow. I'll blog about it later, but just know this: I was so glad I went!!!! And not just for the paycheck!

The Meme

2007-05-30T15:07:00.000-07:00

Amanda tagged me, so here we go.

Three things that scare me:

1) The loss of those I love dearest, esp. my children and Alex
2) Being stuck in an elevator for a very long time
3) Becoming permanently physically or mentally incapacitated

Three people who make me laugh:

1) Alex
2) my kids
3) Grant
...there are actually quite a few more as I tend to surround myself with folks who make me laugh. Why cry when you can laugh?

Three things I love:

1) My family and friends
2) My new car!
3) Food and alcohol

Three things I hate:

1) Anorexic looking people who declare that they are fat
2) A weak backbone
3) Containers that won't open

Three things I don't understand:

1) Deliberately and consistently mean people (that is, we all have our bad days, but all the time?)
2) Parents who don't love their children
3) How George Bush managed to get re-elected

Three things on my desk:

(there's way, way, way more than three things...it's cluttered, as all who have seen it can testify!)
1) Geek books (with appropriate dice!)
2) The Black Knight
3) Headache medicine

Three things I'm doing right now:

(Can we define "right now?")
1) doing this meme
2) fixing dinner
3) keeping children from killing each other

Three things I want to do before I die:

1) travel more, specificially doing wine tours of various nations
2) get something published
3) get a shitload of wine certifications

Three things I can do:

1) Alex
2) Cook
3) Talk a long time without taking a breath

Three things I think you should listen to:

1) Me!
2) Waves crashing on a beach on a quiet, moon-filled night
3) Did I mention "me" yet?

Three things you should never listen to:

1) People telling you that you can't do what you want to do in life
2) My Uncle Gordon
3) Whining children

Three things I'd like to learn:

1) French beyond a beginner level
2) Enough about wine to be considered an expert
3) How to teleport

Three favorite foods:

1) Cheese
2) Chocolate
3) GOOD bread

Three shows I watched as a kid:

1) Sesame Street
2) He-man
3) Gilligan's Island

Three things I regret:

...I refuse to do Amanda's chicken shit way out of it ;) even though I certainly would not change things if it meant I had no kids nor Alex, you know?

1) Not getting my PhD when I wanted to do so and had the time to do so
2) Having sex for the first time at 17. I sincerely don't think I was ready for it, looking back. I needed another couple o' years.
3) Not taking the elite creative writer's course that I was invited to take at Duke. You had to be signed in by a professor who thought you were very talented, and Dr. F tried to get me to do it after reading a play I wrote. I was intimidated by the capacity of the other students (we would have to do peer review), and I was afraid that the time it took up (like that of several courses instead of just one) would cause problems with my boyfriend (that'd be my ex). Some days I'm more stupid than others.

Three people to tag? Nah, but I fully encourage all of you to do this one. Enjoy!

...oh, and visiting Atlanta to see Grant was fabulous, even though somebody banged two paint chips off my new car while I was parked overnight. Grrrr...bastards...

The Slack Ass Blogger Lives!

2007-05-23T16:40:00.001-07:00

I would have thought that being out for the summer meant more time to hang out on blogs and write my own, but it's just not working out that way. I'm finding something to do with all my free time. Most of the time what I'm doing is Alex...wait, not that you wanted to know that, but there we go! Haha! Look, I'm just sooo happy that he's in my apartment now--our apartment--hopefully for good now. Every night he's the last sight I see, and every morning he's the first one that greets me to the new day. I can't take that for granted. I love this man like crazy.

Alex DID get the internship, so that's excellent for us. We had to run out and get a second car so that both of us had means of transportation, but I've been steadily saving up for that for years (well, I was saving up for a new car at first, not a second car--but you get the idea). We ended up with a Mazda 3 sedan, with the 2.3 ltr engine (156 hp). WOW! I love this car. I can control my radio from my steering wheel! I know the outside temp! And we can each have two drinks apiece in the car since there are eight (8) cupholders! haha! Ariana insisted that it be the same color as this electric blue she loved on a friend's car, so I tried my hardest to comply. It's a lot of fun to drive the new car. Zoom, zoom! We're now playing the balancing act, though. I have to use the right credit card at the right time to get the bills to arrive by the time that Alex starts getting paid. I don't ever let stuff slide on the credit card, so it's important for me to plan it out so we can pay off whatever we've charged. I have a plan, and it should work. The main problem is that since Alex is on a student visa and can only do the internship due to it being USC's requirement, he must get paid through USC. That means that Michelin pays USC; USC then TAKES 10% (bastards!); then USC gives us the money. So, he gets paid all of twice for the whole summer. Good thing I can budget. It's all working out! I can't even begin to detail to you guys the hell we've been through over the last two or three weeks getting everything straight, though. It would take too long. My sister made the observation that God appears to want to make us work for whatever it is we get, but that it all works out in the end. She seems to have a valid point. We struggle and get roadbumps here and there, but in the end it all works out great.

We have started getting off our lazy, fat asses and are now walking together nearly every night. There's a path nearby that has a swingset and open field in the middle, so we can take the kids there to play while we walk. I have more energy now that I'm walking. I'm eating just as much as before, so there will be no sudden weight loss here. In fact, that's not the goal. Screw the world who might think I'm not the model thin poster child; I'm just aiming for "feeling better," and I've succeeded!

Memorial day weekend will be Grantapalooza. Alex and I will head down to Atlanta while the ex has the kids, and we shall gorge ourselves silly and drink way too much. We will watch lots of movies too because that's normal entertainment for all of us. Grant wants us to meet his Japanese instructor and her husband, so we're all having dinner Saturday night. I swear we'll have the most international table in the restaurant: a Japanese woman, a German (her husband), a Frenchman born in England (Alex), a redneck (Grant), and a half yankee Floridian (me).

Next week, Alex will be sent to Canada--Montreal--for his job. He's having a bit of a struggle comprehending the Quebecan accent. It's quite different from straight French. He'll get the hang of it after experience, though. He seems to really like his job environment and seems enthusiastic about all the tasks assigned to him. I'll miss him when he's gone, and we shall pass like ships in the night...because he gets back on a Friday, and then on Saturday I take off to do AP English lit readings in Louisville. Whew! I'll be gone for a week, and my folks are driving up from Tampa to take care of the kids while Alex is at work and I'm in Louisville. Thank goodness for family!

On the whole, life is fantastic right now. We have money coming in--granted, in a strange and unpredictable fashion, but still!--a new car too, each other, and everybody is healthy. I have time to dedicate to getting Ariana's room organized, finishing up the "integrating Alex's stuff into the apartment" task, helping out friends with their work, playing with kids (we had our first full-family Monopoly game! Ariana won...first I died, then Alex. Yup, our kids are better than us at Monopoly), and reading. Man, I've missed reading! The library is my best friend right now. We found out that we can get five DVDs at a time and have them for a week too, and the selection is amazing. I'm geeking Alex out with some Star Trek: Next Gen shows, and we'll dive into Sex and the City next (I've never seen them, but everybody says I'd love 'em). This bewilderingly happy feeling? Yeah, I can get used to it. I still get my nightly massages, and when I'm up doing work around the house so is Alex even though he has been gone at work all day himself. Alex has a firm belief that if I'm up and on my feet, he should be too. See why I love him?

Anyway, that's the update! I should give you guys another one next week when we return from Grant's house. We both love visiting him. He's a shining example of how the Internet can yield real life friends. We've made so many "real" friends just by starting out talking on the net that I think we've had better luck with decent people here than in day-to-day life! OH! That reminds me though! I have had a great relationship with my officemate Amy all year long, but she won't be returning to Clemson, and I worried that I'd lose her. See, I'm awful--just awful--about making the first move, or the second or third. I don't call on the phone; I don't reach out first. I will email like crazy, but the other person has to do more work to get me to do stuff, and I feel badly about it...but it's just my temperment. I knew I didn't want to lose Amy, but I had no idea how to keep her without her reaching out first. She did instead! We have so much in common. She's a geek like us, and we had her over last week. We fed her silly and did geeky things all night long. She TOOK NOTES on the wines and cheeses I served! Wow. She takes it as seriously as I do. She had given me a challenge: she hates red wine, but she loves white wine (and all other forms of liquor and beer known to man). So, I hunted up a fine Beaujolais, the red wine that thinks it's a white (low tannins, high fruit), from Brouilly and chilled it appropriately. Victory! Before that, I introduced her to a Tavel (dry rose from the Rhone) that she loved, and after dinner, with the chocolate she brought, I gave her a black muscat--a nice sweet red dessert wine. I felt so rewarded by how excited she was by it all. I hate losing friends, and I'm glad she reached out so that we had an opportunity to drag her in and keep her. I'm an odd woman, and it takes a special person to deal with my quirks. It appears she can do it. Woohoo! Go me!

So, in summary, if you can't tell...I'm in a good mood.

Happy Mother's Day

2007-05-13T12:54:00.000-07:00

I luck out that my ex and my husband can play nice. My ex had the kids today, and he brought them over so they could all take me out to lunch. My ex commented, you're probably the only woman in the restaurant who has her ex and her current at the same table. He's probably right.

My son gave me a card. They were supposed to fill in the blanks as they saw fit. The topic was "My Mom"

My mom is....white.

She likes to...hug me.

Sometimes she...like to pay geme (likes to play games--he's in kindergarten! give him a break!)

The best thing about my mom is...she is alive.

HAHAHAHA! I love that last one. He's got a point. Anything else I got going for me is of no use without me being alive. I still chuckle when I think of that.

It's Alive!

2007-05-05T12:33:00.000-07:00

April has been a non-stop month that has kept me so busy that I could barely breathe. I haven't kept up on everybody's blog, and I haven't even been able to post for a month. Whew! At least all the grades are done and in the computer. This last week was exam week, but the English class I teach has no exam. Therefore, earlier this week I finished up the portfolios and calculated the final grades. Then I received griping from several students who feel that just because Eng 103 is rumoured to be an easy class, that means they get an A. Who cares if the work is excellent? They're special, and they deserve an A! It's already giving me the creeps that about half of all my students get As in this system. That should only happen once in a blue moon, when a class just happens to be the best of your career. Out of about 75 students, I think I had one F, one D, two Cs, approx. 38 As, and the rest are Bs. That's not the grades most of them warrant if one looks at the work, but this system rewards people for just working hard. I'm sorry, but if you study four days for a math test and still do the problems wrong, you don't get an A on the test. Effort should count...in that effort spent should lead to more quality work. It shouldn't be just that effort means they get an A. When the students argued for their grades (yes, that's the system--I am not allowed to grade; they have to argue for their grades at the midterm and final and I either agree with the assessment or disagree), they frequently list off good attendance, never handing in a paper late, and doing all assignments in the format requested as the reason why they should get an A. I always write in the margins of those folks who truly believe that's enough: "But what about your WRITING? This is, after all, an English composition class."

Anyway, it's good that it's over. I got a stack of books from the library on Thursday and have been savoring the time to read them. This summer shall be about organizing my small apartment (much smaller now that Alex has moved in for good as of Wednesday) so that we can live with more stuff in the same little space, and it shall be all about reading. I want to learn some more French and more about wine, and then I also want to read for pleasure. I have to fly out for a week to grade AP literature exams, but otherwise, the summer is wide open for me.

***

My daughter got another Terrific Kid award at her school. She received one last year too. It's all about being a good citizen--helping others, playing with everybody, being nice, etc. I had to cancel classes that day so that I could go to the award ceremony. I told my classes that my daughter was the total package: she is smart, pretty, funny, kind, creative, and amazing in every way. In fact, she was the next best hope for this generation, and she was probably going to save mankind one day. Then I made the class say "thank you Kira" for giving birth and raising said amazing child who would take care of their world for them. Most of them said it, but the rest were laughing too hard to add in their voices. Oh well!

***

Still no word from Clemson as to whether or not I get to work there next year. Basically, I had a great evaluation from teacher and student, and I signed a reappointment letter. However, that's not a contract, and the department just added a PhD program. New PhD students = we need to give them TAs and let them teach classes for their stipend. The first place to pull classes is from the first year lecturers. That'd be me. I really thought that when I signed the reappointment letter last January, that meant I'd get to work at Clemson for sure. It's no longer a certainty by far.

At first, I had this confidence that I would somehow be one of the very few first years they'd keep. Then I had an incident a few weeks ago that made me realize that I might not be at Clemson next year. No, it's not what you think. I'm going to try to explain.

I have felt for a while now that I'm placed where I need to be. I leave my heart open to being where I need to be, and then when I arrive I do my job. So, at Tech there were a few students I know I needed to help out for the positive. When my time there was done, I was moved to Clemson. I have no doubt that there are students at Tech who still believe that if it were not for me, they'd not be continuing onwards. I know that sounds like bragging, and I don't mean it to be that way. It's not a case of "I'm wonderful, look what I can do!" so much as "Yes, I have my purpose, and thank you for letting me do some good in the world." I want to do good, so I do. Simple.

So when my former student Brenda (I blogged about her years ago) cut across traffic in the beginning of April and blockaded my car into remaining next to the gas pump as I pumped gas, she was my reminder that I had done what I could do at Tech. Babbling happily at me, she told me that she was scared she'd not see me again since she knew I had moved on from Tech, but she wanted me to know that she was entering her clinicals for nursing and would be a nurse in a year. I was so proud of her! We must have hugged thirty times before she left. Her life is so much more on track, and as a result, her two teens and her four year old boy are too. She thanked me over and over again for giving her the confidence to do exactly what she was doing. Brenda was why I was at Tech. Her encounter with me was to remind me of that fact, I believe. On a funny side note, she told me that she had spotted me from behind and knew instantly it was me because "No white woman has really long red-brown hair and a butt like that except Miss Kira!" Haha! That cracked me up.

Then, within days, I had an email arrive in my box that was a surprise to me. Yes, I had been trying to help out this one kid in my classes, but I had no idea how profoundly she was affected by my efforts until she told me. Basically, she informed me that she thought that nobody cared at Clemson and that she was just a face lost in the crowd. She believed she had no purpose anymore, and there was no reason to continue in her education or even go on at all for that matter. For some reason, the way I approached her helped her see things differently, and she's decided that she can do something...be something...and she's staying in Clemson now for next year. She told me she knew that if she hadn't had me for a teacher, she'd have, at the very least, dropped out of school. Wow. Now I know why I got hired at Clemson.

So, unless there are more reasons like that to keep me at the university, I suppose I'll be let go with the majority of the first years. But it's ok. I feel confident that if I am let go, I will then end up where I need to be. And it'll be fine.

***
On the good news front: Alex has a paid internship at Michelin for the summer. Woohoo! They wanted it to be for four months, but it's going to be for three because of some issues with Alex's school (something about them wanting him to have it over with so he could graduate in August instead of December). He's allowed to take the internship even though he still has a student visa and not a green card because it's an essential part of his studies. Basically, they are all supposed to have a summer internship doing whatever is their specialty. Michelin needed somebody for operations, and that's Alex's chosen field. They were SO excited when he applied because...well, he's French, and they prefer their upper management folks to be bilingual since Michelin is a French company! Yay! They also told him that most of their internships lead to full time offers when the internship is done! DOUBLE YAY! Now all we have to do is have his green card processed by the time that he's graduated from USC. It looks like maybe it'll be Sept. that he might get it. You know what? If I don't end up getting rehired at Clemson, if he gets a job at Michelin we will still be in a way better financial position than we've ever been, either of us, in our lives. This could be something great!

Misc.

2007-04-02T18:21:00.000-07:00

So, teaching has been going well the last week and a half. I like it when we do discussion. I'm pretty good at getting discussion going and making the kids even want to talk. I like that I can make them laugh most of the time, too...

Student C: Kira, man, you say some weird stuff!

Kira: Only when I open up my mouth.

I know I can't get them all, but I get a lot of them interested and thinking. Today's discussion was interesting because the question I asked them and the criteria I set blew some of the kids away. See, the chapter we read involved different views on marriage. So, I started out the class by writing the words, "Why get married?" on the board. Then I pointed out that in some families, certain things are just expected. Nobody questions them. You go to college. You get married. You have kids. But the very fact that we don't question them means we don't have the motivation then to go through with it, so we don't finish college...we don't deal well with our children...we get divorced. I like making them think about situations that they don't normally question. It's good for them.

I feel like I'm a decent teacher, but I'm not really sure I'm in a position to give advice for most issues. However, I just found out today that my name came up in a discussion about Eng 103, and I'm going to be interviewed so that my advice can be written up to the new TA teachers who are given Eng 103 to teach. What the heck? Why me? I am mystified. I have never taken any education classes nor gone through Practicum. All I do is run on instinct. I have no idea how to tell other teachers to...teach! What have I learned that I can possibly share? I dunno. I've been thinking about this all day. I'm a little nervous over the idea that my words will be treated as wisdom on this subject.

This is what I've mulled over:

1) Make sure you get your kids to care about you and the class. That means you don't act distant, lordly, or above them. You should make sure that the friendliness and accessibility doesn't cross over too far so that you are no longer a teacher first and foremost, but when you show your kids that you care, they respond oh so much better than when you keep yourself aloof.

2) Find a way to make it relevant to them. No matter what the materials, make sure they understand why they should care. If you don't make that clear, they just won't put out the work they need to do.

3) Get them to think. Critical reasoning is a skill so many lack. On every topic, get them to question and think. Get them to argue for things they don't even believe in just to exercise that brain.

4) Always make yourself available via email and after class for that one-on-one time that many students simply NEED.

5) Be willing to adapt. Each class is a living organism that will have different needs. Listen carefully so that you can figure out what this class needs over that class, and then do it.

Hmm. That's all I can think of for now beyond the obvious (always be prepared for class and do your research; have backups in case something doesn't work, too; etc).

****

My dear Ariana got the lead in the little play her school is putting on. The part was for "the crocodile guy," and she was one of two kids out of thirteen who were voted by classmates as the best for the part, despite being a girl. Ariana then practiced the part diligently, and she then was voted by her classmates as the better of the two choices (the other fellow was actually a guy). So, now they are rewriting certain sections to say the "crocodile gal." Go Ari! She's such a little ham. When she was practicing for the part, Alex and I--former theatre geeks from high school ourselves--eagerly jumped in and gave her all sorts of advice. The best part was simply that she seemed to be having so much fun with it!

****

Ok, so Juanita has given me a tag. I guess I have to do it!

Here's her suggestion-- I'm going to make up a new game and it goes like this: Reveal five things that you WISH were your deepest, darkest secrets.

Okay. Here we go!

1) It's so hard for me to make a decision when every top named Uni in the USA wants me to enter into their PhD program in English. I guess I just might draw a name from a hat. I know that's not a good way to decide, but when Yale, Harvard, Stanford, Princeton, and Brown all want you and are offering you a full fellowship, what's a girl to do?

2) They just won't sell me alcohol anywhere even though my driver's license is clearly not a fake because the folks insist I look under 21 no matter what the numbers state. So, I get Alex, my nine years younger husband, to buy it for me.

3) My domicile is so huge and vast that it looks empty. I simply have too much storage space and stretching out room. What a pain to clean!

4) It's embarrassing to have had two children yet be able to bounce quarters off my stomach. Nobody will believe that Ariana and Jared are mine because I'm so fit!

5) Having a fantastic memory is not all it's cracked up to be. I can't forget anything, anywhere. Sometimes it's helpful--like I don't need to take a list to the grocery--but sometimes it's not, like when I want to not remember something stupid somebody said.

There. That'll work. I won't tag anybody, but if you want to try this one on for size, go for it!

Spring Break

2007-03-20T20:28:00.000-07:00

Spring break couldn't have happened at a better time. I feel silly even saying I need a break desperately when there are plenty of folks out there doing a dozen things more than I am, but yeah. I needed this break pretty badly.

So far this week, I've slept in and read a lot on wine. You know what? It's really starting to come together. I am re-reading a great book right now (The Wine Bible by Karen MacNeil), and it amazes me how much I remember...and how much more of it makes sense this time around. I have almost finished an article on rose wines, an appropriate topic for summer drinking, too. Now I just need to figure out where to peddle it! I can't believe how consistently intense I've been on this topic. For some reason, I wondered if I'd just lose interest after a while because it's happened before with different subjects. However, as time goes on, I seem to gain even more enthusiasm on the topic. Go figure.

It's funny, but this week I have been especially aware of how perfectly matched Alex is with me. He reads my moods well and accomodates. He's more chemically appealing to me than any other person I've ever known in my life. My kids...are his kids. And the romance never dies. By "romance" I do not mean some sort of froo froo concept only alive in novels. Instead, I mean that he never seems to lose that joy of just doing something to make me happy. I still get nightly massages. I still never have to vacuum my house when he's around because he automatically does it first. I still get to finish off the last bit of cheese, chocolate, or wine. He never tries to convince me he's wonderful (most men I know spend more time bragging about what they've done or what they would do...); he just does everything conceivable to SHOW me he's wonderful. I can't deny that I feel a strong physical pull to the man. He's very appealing that way. But when I think about Foilwoman writing a while back about logic being such an important part of a matchup, I realize that this time around, I used my brain as well as my heart instead of just my heart. He fits with me religiously, philosophically, politically, parentally, goal wise in the universe, and has also shared with me realism as far as finances/material goods go. We are compatable in bed (he's the only guy who has been able to keep up with me so far...believe me, I value a man who wants sex almost as much as I do). Our sense of humor is extremely similar. Yet we have differences that make this life together not predictable nor boring. Sometimes, by the very merit that he spent his whole life in France or England, he has a unique perspective to mine that forces me to think, laugh, love, learn. I adore that.

On another Alex front, though, I am frustrated to realize that he may not get his green card by the time he graduates in August. When we married, as far as I knew, it took about four months for residency paperwork to be approved. So, when I submitted all the paperwork by the end of Jan, I thought I was safe. Well, first of all, they don't record it as processed until Feb. 22nd. Second of all, they are six months behind at this point, not four months. Sigh. Apparently nowadays one has to wait until a visa number for a spouse is available before he or she can be a resident. Before, there were no numbers needed. It was automatic. I'm so glad we're cracking down on LEGAL immigration. That'll really help illegal immigration slow down and all. If we had been able to move to France, we could easily do so. It's the US that has stricter immigration laws. He probably has to go back to France in Sept, so I worry that if he doesn't have his green card by then, he loses his student visa status (since he graduates in August), and he can only return for three months. Then he has to stay in France while we get it straight. ARRRGHH. It's just wrong. We've spent enough time apart. No more. This is just...wrong.

And then I remind myself that I'm borrowing trouble. I don't know what will pass until it does. And life is quite good with him, with my job at Clemson, with my kids right now. Just when I thought I'd sink financially, I get a great tax refund that fixes it all. Then I get approved for a session of the AP readings, too, and that will help me out as far as money goes. It always seems to work out, so I just need to let it work out, you know?

He makes me a better person. Who you hang out with determines if you'll be the same person, a better person, or a worse person. I definitely believe you can take two decent human beings and put them together and the result is two horrible human beings (I think of me and my ex for proof of that). I also believe sometimes you can place two people together and make them better than what they are. Alex does that for me, and I do that for him. So, since we're meant to be together, it should work out. The end.

****

On a side note, the day before spring break I had a high school senior randomly pick my class to sit in on just to see what Clemson was like. I managed to drag her into the discussion, and for whatever reason I was on fire that day. We laughed, we learned, we laughed some more. Man, she came up after class to tell me how much it rocked and how much she was appreciative that I let her sit there and see it. That made me feel good! You know, sometimes a bad day happens as a teacher and I wonder what I'm doing. Then days like that happen and I remember why. I need reminders like that. I think we all do.

Mothers and Star Wars

2007-03-13T17:05:00.000-07:00

Well, this last weekend, Alex and I drove down to Atlanta to see Grant again. We really have a lot of fun with him (and he feeds us AMAZINGLY WELL!), so we seem to go down quite a bit. We went down in November, twice in December, and then this weekend. Although he started out my friend, he's definitely Alex's too. Alex told me once that he was so glad to have Grant as a friend because most of the other friends he's made through me are more my friends than his, not having so much in common with him as just loving him because he's attached to me. On the other hand, Grant has a fair bit in common with Alex as far as interests go, and Grant tries to communicate with him too, so he feels like he finally has his first mutual friend in America. That's cool because it makes it easier to convince Alex to drive down for the weekend to see Grant!

Anyway, we primarily eat good/great food, drink too much alcohol, and see lots of movies whenever we visit. This past weekend, we decided upon a Star Wars theme. We started with episode one, then we went to episode five. We didn't get to reach episode six (aka Return of the Jedi) because we ran out of time. We also got to watch two Japanese related movies in between the other movies for variation. Anyway! One thing about episode three (aka Revenge of the Sith) really pissed me off. Padme was a crap mum. Let me explain.

Padme is pregnant. For some reason I cannot figure out, technology in this high tech society does not involve ultrasounds because she has no idea--nor does anybody else--that she's carrying twins. Sure, you can go on the theory that since she wasn't supposed to be married to Anakin/Darth Vader, she just didn't go to the doctor's. But really, even the biggest moron could see she was pregnant at the end, so what would be the point there? Due to Anakin's conversion to the dark side of the force, she loses her will to live. She gives birth. She names her kids. And then she dies. Stupid bitch...I want to kill her. Sadly, however, she's already dead.

See, motherhood is not easy. Motherhood is worth just about anything, but it's not easy. She gave up before she began because she decided that her husband was the most important thing in her life and her kids didn't matter. For nine months she carried twins, and she never grew to love them so much that she would want to live to take care of them. I just don't get it.

Now, before anybody tells me, "Kira, you don't know what it's like to be depressed, severely depressed, and that's why she decided to just die." Bullshit. When my marriage fell apart, I certainly was so depressed that death was a beautiful option, a release from my misery. I distinctly remember falling asleep at night, hoping I'd die in my sleep, only to wake up crying because I was still alive. I remember the kids waking up and needing me, the tears still streaming down my face, me mentally telling myself that only a woman who didn't care for her children would stay in bed and wallow...and boom, mentally kicking myself over and over again, I was out of bed and taking care of them. I loved them. In fact, my love for them was the only good and beautiful part of my universe left at that point. How could I kill myself? How could I just lose the will to live when my kids needed me so badly? Impossible!

So, I guess it really bothers me that Padme just....named her children and slipped away. Wuss. Real women love their children even when the father is psycho, evil, and the dark lord of the universe. Real mothers forage on because we have been given this extraordinary strength to live when others would fail. My therapist told me once that when women have kids, they become statistically very unlikely to commit suicide. However, she stated that when men have kids, the rate of suicide largely remains unchanged. Therefore, caretaking through extreme depression should indeed be a mother's trait. (for a side note, however, I know for certain that my ex's love for his kids pulled him through some desires for suicide too, so I realize men can have that bond as well with their kids)

I liked Padme all the way until the end. Then I became furious. Good thing she enabled her children to be adopted elsewhere because she never could have been a real mom.

Isolation Amongst Many

2007-02-25T19:19:00.000-08:00

Ever since this fabulous person gave me his old iPod, I have really enjoyed using it wherever I go. I haven't loaded up my own music on it because I don't want to wipe out what he had on the iPod. Most of it is fun stuff, and I figure I'll enjoy it a while longer before I mess with changing anything. One of the most useful applications of the iPod for me is that I can dance my way from my car to my office every morning if I like. It's quite a hike since I have chosen to take the easy way out with parking (that is, I know where there is a space and so I just take it, not worrying about the long walk it then creates from my car to my office). I consider it part of the Clemson health insurance plan: walking, walking, walking.

Sometimes, while walking with the iPod on, I know I am humming to myself or pretending to beat drums or something. I don't care if I look like a freak, so it doesn't bother me to be open in this fashion. I did notice that there are many other iPod users across campus, students who also have the earphones in as they walk to class, and they never seem to be reacting to the music. That was my first observation. Then, suddenly, I realized...hey wait...a LOT of students are using the iPod. Depending on the time of day, I see about 25 to 33% of the students walking by with their iPods going. Wow! Then I started looking further, and I noticed that out of the remaining students, many were also talking on their cell phones rather than to each other. Even when students were seemingly together, they were talking on their phones. I walked by two anorexic sorority girls (identifiable by their greek lettered bags), sitting down companionably in silence near the water fountain near the library, texting happily to...for all I know, each other. Texting, talking, iPoding...all these people, hundreds of people, and nobody was directly using face-to-face communication. All right, "nobody" is a strong word. Let's just say "very few."

Is this really where we're going now as a society? Are we actually heading to a time when we try and talk to each other in every way but a position that involves eye contact? Amazing.

****

The other night, I wanted to get fried zucchini. I haven't had it in over ten years, and I used to love it. Alex looked puzzled and said he didn't know what it was. You know, that happens so rarely to him because he's extremely bi-lingual. He usually displays a higher vocabulary in English than most grad students can show. Now, my French is merde. So, when we have moments wherein he doesn't know the English word, I frequently can't pop out the French equivalent....

...except if we are talking about FOOD! Woohoo! I have long been highly motivated to know all sorts of foreign words for food items. That comes with the territory of being food-obsessive. "Courgette!" I cried out, grinning. "Courgette...frit?"

Then, of course, Alex's whole face wrinkled up. Let's be honest: the reason why he doesn't know the American veggie words (the Brits use courgette instead of zucchini too) is that the man doesn't enjoy vegetables. I've gotten him to like quite a few over the years, but I still have a long way to go! I had to laugh as he looked so displeased to find out what a zucchini was. He decided he would be a grownup, though, and try it despite its vegetable status. Good news: he liked it! Yay!

****

I'm still hacking up my lungs. I will never be well again. I swear.

****

My daughter has been chosen to be the goalie of her soccer team. Why, you ask? Well, she's the only kid who they tried out on that position who was extremely dedicated to keeping the ball OUT of the goal. The other kids would sort of stare at the ball as it went by or would make a halfhearted attempt at grabbing it. Not my daughter! Finally, the killer instinct I knew she had inside but she never really showed when she was on the field surfaced. Ariana dove, dove, and dove again. She even got smacked in the face once with the soccer ball, leaving a large red splotch on her cheek for the rest of the day. I was so proud...sniff! I need to take her to see some good women's soccer somewhere. She loves this sport. I want her to be inspired.

****

And speaking of women's sports, I would like to say that I am very, very happy with my alma mater's women's basketball team right now. Duke is ranked #1 in the country, and they are undefeated. They have one game left: against UNC, of course. Usually, women's sporting events are not supported. However, Duke is a basketball school all around, and the word has it that the tents are popping up as the students wait in line for tickets for this final season game. I can't tell you how happy I am to know that my school is supporting their excellent women's team in a fashion that they deserve. Even when women's teams win, they are often ignored. But not in Durham! Go Blue Devils!

The Plague

2007-02-14T18:58:00.000-08:00

I ended up getting round two of the plague. Go me! I had a fever and have been sick now since last Saturday. It's Wednesday, and without the miracle of drugs I'd not make it to school. I warn the students to keep their distance so I don't breathe on them, and then we continue. Life goes on.

It's funny how a fever will totally knock me out if I have one. Let me clarify: I never feel a fever unless it's high. Numerous times in my life, my mom would tell me, Kira...you're running a fever! I wouldn't believe her until we took my temp. I run a fever with every cold or anything. I don't need a thermometer at this point; 103 is the earliest temp wherein I feel it. 104, my mind gets foggy. 105, I hallucinate and talk to doors. I've had three 105 degree F fevers in my life, and all three times I hallucinated, so I know that's the pattern. The end.

On Saturday, I woke up and was bewildered. It was still sometime in the early hours of the morning, and I had no idea what was wrong (fever of 104). After moving around and being confused, Alex woke up and knew something was odd with me. He made me take nyquil, massaged my scalp, and I fell back asleep. I had chaotic dreams. I think the strangest dreams I ever have are when I have a fever...and typically there are ones I need to pay attention to in the mix. I awoke about two hours later in a pool of sweat, the fever having broken. It came back and broke again several other times, all the way through Monday night. The only good part of it all: the ex had the kids for the duration. I could actually BE sick. Whew!

This week for me is all about reviewing papers. Ug! And today, well, even though it's Vday, my spouse is in another city....so, ug! But the day was still rather cute. Why, you ask? ANDREW! Yes, my daughter's nine year old boyfriend still impresses me. He discovered she wanted a Beta (the fish). He bought her a Beta that was blue (her favorite color) with a red tail (for Valentine's Day...no really, that's what he told me). He got her a container, pretty rocks, a decorative item, and a snail so that she wouldn't have to worry about algae/cleaning it too much. Oh, and also Beta food. Then he bought her seven red carnations. Why seven, you ask? Well, he told me! He said that's all he could afford with his allowance money after buying the Beta...haha! I swear this kid is tremendous. I wish I could just marry them off and never worry about my daughter again.

****

One of my office mates, Jill, received a Valentine's Day card from a student. She said it was ok because it was a friendly one from a girl. She mentioned she only worried about stuff like that if it were from a guy because the guys there are generally much bigger than her. I responded, "Nah, that's why God made men have external genitalia: the great leveler! You can lay a man flat. You know where to hit. You're good." I can thank my older brothers for teaching me that essential knowledge. Thanks Mark, Ken! I appreciate being shown how to deal with a big guy!

****

Speaking of that general issue, I was talking to a former Tech student who is now a Clemson student. He used to make all sorts of suggestive comments to me while I was there. I suspect he was the student who wrote in that one of my greatest advantages as a teacher was "wearing cleavage shirts and being sarcastic." Anyway, I told him that the Clemson guys didn't hit on me like the Tech guys did. I mean, I get maybe a tenth of the outrageous flirting and hitting upon that I got at Tech. I told him it was one of two things: either I had finally, at 37, gotten too old to appeal to even hyper hormonal 18 yr olds, or the guys at CU tried to be more respectful of their professors than the Tech kids. He laughed immediately and said, Oh Kira! You're SO not too old. If you didn't have Alex, I'd be all over you right now!

Heck, it's ok to be pleased by the flattery, right? I mean, I just had a birthday and all and feel older...and that was actually sincere. I feel almost guilty for feeling happy that he said it. It's not that I want ANY student to hit on me. Please don't get me wrong. I just....well, what woman wants to think she's lost "it", you know? I grinned every time I thought of his comment for a while after that.

Collard Greens

2007-02-04T15:02:00.000-08:00

There's been a bit of a buzz about a questionable party thrown at Clemson University. Jadedprimadonna already wrote about it, so I don't need to elaborate that one. However, I have to say that a few days before the whole party hit facebook and then the media, I already had a clue that some of the students thought some ways of treating people were cool when they really aren't.

We were discussing false cause, one of many fallacies of relevance that I felt that my kids needed to know in order to avoid them when writing the argumentative essays. I asked them to give examples of false cause, informing them that superstitions were always false cause. So, they tossed out the usual examples: walking under a ladder, breaking a mirror, stepping on a crack, etc. Then this one fellow--who happens to be an African-American, and the only minority present in class that day--mentioned that black-eyed peas on New Year's Eve was good luck. Several members of the class immediately stated that you had to eat collard greens with the black-eyed peas or it doesn't work. Then this white chick who sits next to the black fellow grins at him and says, "Geesh! YOU should know all ABOUT collard greens!"

Now, this girl doesn't know this guy. It's not like they are close friends and joke around all the time about...whatever. I raise my eyebrows, surprised, and sigh heavily. The guy reassures me and the whole class--a class frozen in disbelief, mind you--that he's not one of those fellows who cries racist after everything he hears. I tell him, wow, well, I'm glad for you, but I still have questions about what she just said. The girl instantly said, "But my best friend is black!" I believe that was supposed to be some sort of "Free Card." If you state your best friend is X minority, then it's ok, you can say what you want and you are not racist. I sighed again, and then...because my mouth works quicker than my brain or any other part of me...before I knew it, I smiled to the guy and said, "Well, that's good, just make sure to tell her that you were shocked that she was intelligent enough to come up with something like that." The whole class went silent again, gaping mouths staring at me, wondering where that came from. "Oh, can't you see?" I explained. "She's BLONDE! We assume blondes are really stupid. We assume blacks eat collard greens. Since she made the first shot there, we can assume she doesn't mind being teased about things that she can't control like physical appearance, so we can tease her back." The guy, horrified, insisted he'd never say anything like that to her. I replied, "OH! I see. So she can tease you and make fun of you, and that's cool by you, but you can't return the favor? I'm not like that, you see. I figure if somebody takes a shot at me, I get to open fire!"

And then we went on with class, but I guess the class was a little stunned. So was I. You should know about collard greens? What, next she's going to ask him when he last had watermelon and fried chicken? Sheesh. The worst part was that even though I thought I made my point clear with my returning volley, I don't think she got it. I really don't think she understands why her comment was not appropriate.

I'm not one of these crazy over the top Political Correctness Policewomen. I just believe that what Ms. Manners said long ago was true: good manners is about making people comfortable. And teasing like that type? Definitely not good manners. And not even funny.

****

Damn you blogger for making me switch! Damn you! Damn you!

****

So, we are the plague household. Alex just has a bad neck so far, but the kids and I are sick. Jared barfed everywhere yesterday, and we've all ran fevers. I hope we're better by tomorrow. Alex went back to Columbia today. I figure tomorrow his neck will feel all better. Then Tuesday he'll barf and get a fever too. It's so fantastic when families share!

The Once A Week Blogger!

2007-01-23T19:43:00.000-08:00

Yes, it seems that I can manage about once a week. Oh well.

So, the anxiety is much more managable this last week. I know it's temporary, though. I need to ask my doc about it, and I will eventually. Just not this week.

Last weekend, I took my good friend Shana--the woman who used to be married to my ex's brother--and her son Harvest with me and the kids to Columbia to visit Alex. How did life get so complex? Technically, I am Harvest's aunt because when he was born, I was married to his father's brother. But I'm not married to that man anymore. Still, I don't want to NOT be an aunt, so I am. He's my nephew. That won't change. But then what about Alex? Is he uncle number two? Shana navigated that one after she saw how stellarly Alex treated Harvest: definitely that's Uncle Alex. My kids have no desire to stop calling Shana "Aunt Shana" because she's always been their aunt, and the separation just happened in Sept. anyway. Harvest is their cousin forever regardless. Ug. What a pain to figure out what each of us is to the other now! I guess it all boils down to that we love each other. And that's that.

Alex has a good sense of what women need. He realized before Shana came to visit that, as a newly scarred woman in a just-crushed long term relationship, she would need to vent. He also realized she needed to vent away from her son. So, he shipped us off to Gervais and Vine to have wine and tapas while he tended all three children. There was little I could do to make up for that gallantry other than make his favorite chocolate pie and bring it to him as a reward. Well...there's obviously other stuff, but since Shana had to sleep in our room, that didn't really work out :)We had a blast, and Operation Spoil Shana worked out splendidly. It's funny to me how Alex gets even more excited than I do that we are making her feel relaxed and happy. I mean, she's MY close friend since 1993! He didn't meet her that long ago. Yet, he's grinning as he makes her sit down and fetches her son what he needs. God I love that man.

See, he's not spineless. He's not a weak man who lets others walk all over him, nor a slave. He just...is selfless. There's a huge difference. He LOVES helping other people. This is the man who listened carefully to my stories of how I felt one of my neighbors was overwhelmed as a very, very young single mother of two small children. Then, as a result of knowing her situation, he started carrying her garbage to the dumpster (a bit of a walk from our building) whenever she left it outside her door. She has no idea it's my husband who does that for her. All she knows is that some kind soul takes her trash for her and helps her out. He doesn't do it for the attention...he does it because he genuinely loves feeling needed. It's been really weird--but the good kind of weird--to adjust to a man like Alex. I'll never take him for granted.

So we did tag-team spoiling of Shana, and it worked. It's been a long time since I've seen her so together, happy, and whole.

Classes are going well, although I'm already slammed with papers to review this week. Bleh. After hearing about lecturers who are not being reappointed or are having some secondary evaluations being made to see if they should be evaluated, I am feeling much more blessed to have my reappointment letters.

iPods rock. Just for the record.

Oh, and the last bit of news: Radioactive Cat is 100% better! YAY! We just got the thyroid test results back this week. Indeed, what is there to feel anxiety about? Life is good.

ThudThudThud

2007-01-16T18:55:00.000-08:00

I don't like to complain, but the truth of the matter is that my anxiety issues are expanding. I am guessing they are related to the birth control pill because they seem to be hormone based, so I will just have to discuss this with my gyn this month. Sigh. I do NOT enjoy having my heart thud all day long and feeling like sudden doom will come upon me at any moment. Alcohol dulls it, but I'm not a very good alcoholic. It's too bad, really, because I had a great example that way. I've had the best show me his stuff. But I just can't swing it. Oh well. Let's hope the doc has a more constructive suggestion. I suspect step one is to switch off my birth control pill...AGAIN!!!! AAARRRGGGHHH!

****

I received my reappointment letter. It generally says nice stuff. For those of you who are going, "What the heck is a reappointment letter?", I can tell you that at Clemson, when you are hired in the lecturer capacity, you are hired each year. You're evaluated, and after the materials you provide and the evaluator sees your teaching style, he or she makes the recommendation that you either should get lost or you should stay on. The letter--well, letters since there are two of them--are both good. There was only one part that made me scream:

My evaluator wants me to take Practicum with the grad students. WHY??? I can tell you why...because I MADE THE MISTAKE of telling him that I never have taken any education classes or been given instruction on teaching since I had a fellowship at USC instead of a TA, and I never had teaching/education classes at Tech either. So, he thinks it might be of benefit to me. I'm in year four of my teaching career, and...now I take the Practicum? Well, it's not offered in the spring, just the fall. SO! They want me to take the Practicum...in my FIFTH year of teaching? ARRGGHH! I'm going to see if I can just take some of the interesting, vaguely helpful classes that are offered in one session here and there on specific topics. I would MUCH rather do that (and it would be of actual value to me since I could pick out useful topics).

But, other than that, the situation is good. I have my contract renewed. Generally positive things were said about my teaching style relaxing the students and encouraging good discussion. So, at least I have a job next year. Woohoo!

*****

And speaking of teaching...I had one new student this term come up to me because she wanted me to know she was taking the class specifically because her good friend, a student I had last term, insisted she would love me as an instructor. Apparently, her sense of humor and intense sarcasm is similar to mine. That cracked me up. I also had another guy come up to me after the first day and get very excited over my geek references during class. "I've NEVER had a teacher just admit that she liked this stuff before!" he bubbled, and that also made me laugh. I need moments like that to remind me that I'm appreciated for the quirkiness that I have as an instructor.

*****

I feel wierd without Alex around me now. He started up classes today. I will see him Friday, but it just....doesn't feel right that he's not here. I became used to his presence over Christmas break.

It should be a fun four or five months without him, and I mean that sarcastically. The financial burden to pay for both households just increased dramatically because his student loan money is no more. I have to find a way to stretch my income to his place in Columbia, and I really don't make a load to begin with. BUT!!!! I am not panicking over this one. I refuse. It's temporary. At a minimum, even if he doesn't get a job right away, the problem will be lessened when he moves back here and we don't have to pay extra living expenses that way. And family will help if I need them to do so. Yes, it totally sucks. I turn 37 at the end of the month, and mommy and daddy (and big brother) still have to keep an eye out for me just in case. Damnit. But I also know that it's a big, big blessing to have that option. So, I am grateful, too.

*****

I started a diet today. I give myself three days before I bolt, steal a box of Godivas, eat them all and then keep going. I have no willpower with food. None.

Go Cocks!

2007-01-09T13:59:00.000-08:00

Ariana has to do a scrapbooking project for school. There are several different sections, all related to South Carolina. The current section that she must do is to find three South Carolina songs and write something personal about each one. Ari and I puzzled over which songs we could have her do that she'd be able to cover. Finally, I figured out two of them: the SC fight song and the Clemson fight song. I figured she could write about how both her parents have degrees from SC, yet her mother currently works at Clemson, and how she's been to both campuses, etc. Ari loved this idea, so we decided to head to the scrapbooking store here in our small town to find some USC and Clemson stickers. No problem. In SC, school rivalries are taken seriously, so you can pretty much find anything USC or Clemson anywhere in the state.

After leaving the store, Ariana and Jared started talking about the mascots. It was inevitable, I suppose. Ariana started saying in the loudest voice possible, "It's COCKS! Cocks. It's not a rooster, Jared, it's a COCK! COCK! DO YOU HEAR ME??? COCK!"

Ahem.

How does one explain this situation to a child? Additionally, how does one explain this to a child...without laughing one's arse off???

So, clearing my voice, I explained to Ariana that she should be careful about using that word because it has two meanings. "One is a type of fowl, called the gamecock. The other...well, it's slang for a man's penis. So, if you are just shouting out 'cock' all over the place, people might think you're a very rude little girl."

Ariana was horrified. Changing her previous stance, she pleaded, "Can't we just say rooster then?"

"No," I started to explain, "A rooster isn't very fierce. A gamecock, however, IS. They are especially trained for fighting. In fact, even though in many states it's illegal, there's cockfighting all over the place..."

Alex tried to keep a straight face. He failed. Laughing, then the kids did too as they had a visual image of...well, not the fowl type of cock, fighting. "AHAHAHAHA! Oh Mommy, that's so funny...cockfighting...AHAHAHA!"

Sigh. There's really no hope for any offspring of mine, is there?

****

So, my cat has only woken me up one (1) time in the middle of the night since we returned from Grant's over a week ago. I still can't figure out why Chian was so determined that Grant never sleep. Oh well. Maybe he just loves creepy ones more than me and hence needs to play with them all night long.

****

Classes start tomorrow for me. I was trying to get organized for the first day of classes. I am getting tired of the repetative opening intro lecture that I've now given for the last four years, even though each time I tweak it and change it. I know that part of it is just that first day, too, wherein you see the personality of each class. I'll have two classes to meet tomorrow, then two on Thursday. Tonight, I have to set up my courses on Blackboard. Even though I became quite comfortable working on Blackboard this last semester, Angie was the one who set up my courses on there the first time, so I will have to muddle through it tonight to figure out how to do it. At least this term I start out with a) paychecks immediately and b) in the system for email and Blackboard. That should make life easier.

****

I'm used to Alex being around me. It's been around four weeks since we've spent a night apart. I could get used to this. I am NOT looking forward to him disappearing this weekend for his classes next week. Sigh. Just a few more months, though, and he's here for good...just a few more months...

It's easier on the kids to have him here too. Jared and Ari will be very upset when he leaves. Five months is a long time to small children...eternity, almost.

Back to Atlanta

2006-12-30T07:17:00.000-08:00

Yes, shortly we leave to go back to Atlanta to pick up Chian. I think Grant will be delighted to start getting some sleep again. Chian must have REALLY loved Grant to have kept him up all night...every night...well, except for the Night of the Projectile Vomiting of one of Grant's friends. That apparently lulled him to sleep.

The trip to my brother's place was good. He treated us all to an NHL game...Florida Panthers vs. Carolina Hurricanes. The 'Canes won, so everybody was thrilled. I had never really watched a hockey match before, so it was exciting for me. My nephew caught a t-shirt they threw out to the audience, and that was great. I told him to catch one for me too, but he wouldn't. Bastard :)

We also got to see the movie Night at the Museum, which we all enjoyed. I love going to the movies.

However, now that the holidays are almost over, I have a decision to make. See, I hate...I mean HATE...clothes shopping for myself. I am not a typical woman that way. I don't like to buy shoes. I don't like to buy purses. I don't like to buy jewelry or clothes. Nope. Not at all. If I have spare money, I will by wine, cheese, and chocolate. Or if I have a lot of spare money, I'll go on a trip. Maybe I'll buy some books. That's it. To me, I cringe when I have to buy myself clothes. It feels like such a waste of money. Yet...I'm at a point now wherein I've gained so much weight that none of my clothes are comfortable. I barely have any that I can wear, and the biggest stuff in my wardrobe is tight. I have two choices: diet/exercise and lose weight to fit into existing clothes, or go out and buy new clothes. The cheaper option is, of course, number one.

No, I don't make New Year's resolutions, so I'm not resolving to go on a diet. I am especially not going to go on a diet before we visit Grant. You have NO IDEA how good we get fed when we go down there. I'm NOT missing out on that!!! But...I know I've gained another five pounds between April's Bloggercon and now. When will it stop? My metabolism has officially slowed a little more, and I act like I'm 20 when I eat. I am even bursting out of my bras. You know your bra is too small when you have to shake the girls back into them several times per day. I'm just not comfortable with my body the way it is right now. So...I'm contemplating doing something about it in the near future. It's hard for me to even consider when I enjoy food so damned much. Maybe if I just start exercising that could be enough...maybe...

****

When we arrived at my brother's house last week, my son immediately remembered he did not finish his thank you notes. He was upset. I still can't believe how much he's grown and matured in the last year. NOBODY can, really, as he's now moved into the "not normal" category for a six-year-old boy. We went to the Monet exhibit in Raleigh, and both of my children were more into it than the adults. I can't believe that they studied every picture, listened to the commentary on one of those recording things you can rent, and discussed the content of the pictures throughout the whole museum. Wow. Jared had a lot to say about the art, but he cracked us all up when he announced, wide-eyed, halfway through the museum, "Hey...this Monet guy's pretty good. He must be one of the best!"

One of my brother's friends has twin boys around Jared's age. She was amazed at Jared's temperment and his ability to enjoy Monet. In fact, it saddened her because she fretted something was wrong with her boys that they were so active and self-absorbed. I had to reassure her that I was in charge of a Mommy's Morning Out program for a while, and HER kids were the normal ones. She seemed relieved to hear it.

*****

You know what? I love how Alex just fits in so perfectly with my family. They all ADORE the man. But what's not to adore? He dotes on the kids like they are his own, he dotes on me constantly, and he's always willing to help at the drop of a hat. He's a good man. My dad cracks me up, though. Whenever Alex leaps up to do something and all the women in the family smile at him for being so helpful, he grumbles, "Alex, you're pissing me off! You're making me look bad again!" It doesn't matter how often he says it--it still cracks me up!

Ok, so it's off to Atlanta again. Woohoo!

Christmas Vacation

2006-12-20T08:44:00.000-08:00

One would think that I am in the middle of grades still from the lack of blogging. Nope. I actually finished up early last week. I just have been busy hopping around places and getting things done, so my time on the net has been minimal. I probably am suffering from withdrawl symptoms!

We went to Atlanta again to visit with Grant last weekend, and we took our cat, Chian. Grant is going to take care of our cat while we travel to my brother's house over Christmas. I can't take the cat with me because my brother's wife, Deb, has a dog named Spec who will eat Chian. I love Spec, but I don't love him enough to let him eat my cat. Boarding is very traumatizing on Chian too, especially after the last time he was "boarded" was when he had the irradiation treatment back in October. I had a few ideas for pet sitting options, but they all fell through. Then Grant offered to take care of Chian. Apparently, Grant's goals are to get him drunk on whiskey regularly and also to get him to worship the devil. We'll see about his success. Grant is already much more liberal with anything my cat wants than I am. How do I know? Imagine my surprise when I realized that he let my cat onto his computer and let him become a blogger. I don't think my cat will want to come home. We are set to pick him up from Grant around New Year's Eve, but the way things are going, I'm sure that Chian will want to stay.

Last week was Jared's birthday. Thursday the 14th I invited over my ex with the kids so we could have a little party for him. The party went great up until the kids went to bed. Sigh. Oh well. I don't feel like going into details. But Jared did have a great time, and he was happy to open and play with all his gifts. I think each one of my children have particular issues that are important to them. Generosity is very important to my daughter, and material things are not so important. With my son, it is very, very important for him to show gratitude whenever somebody does something for him that he really appreciates. This urge has increased dramatically over the last year, and this last month in particular I have noticed that he keeps wanting to make sure that people realize how thankful he is. I have the only child around who PESTERED me yesterday to start up his thank you notes. He's in kindergarten, but he couldn't stand that his birthday was last Thursday and the thank you notes were not yet in the mail. Poor baby takes forever to write them, too, since he's not had much practice with writing at his age. He already did three, though, and that made him happy. I also have noticed that he'll pick up on a detail of something and then decide to sincerely thank me for it. For instance, I splurged on a Spongebob cake for his birthday. His sister wanted me to make hers, and I did (a candy cane shapped cake decorated rather nicely, if I say so myself). But Jared didn't mention what he'd prefer, and I was too exhausted by last Thursday to make another cake. Therefore, I decided to spend a little extra and get him this cake. It comes with removable Spongebob and Patrick toys, and he really liked playing with them last Thursday. So, this morning he is eating his breakfast, and he solemnly looks up at me and says, Mom, I really appreciate that you bought me the Spongebob cake. It was good, and I like the toys that came with it. Thank you. I love how he can appreciate gifts and kindness. He will thank somebody for opening a door for him or picking out his clothes--it doesn't have to be that somebody buys something for him.

I didn't think he'd end up as the grateful one in this house. Honestly. As a very small one, he was anything BUT grateful. But in this last year I've seen him mature so much. He used to cry a lot when he didn't get his way. Now it rarely happens. He used to toss off thank you as a matter of rote rather than sincerity. Now it's always fully meant. He used to NEVER want to share his stuff. Now he's getting a better concept on how to do it. Remarkable.

*****

Irony can be defined many ways. For example, I have always found it ironic that the only rude redneck in my family--my brother Mark--ended up being the one who doesn't live in America. I remember as a young teen we had a dinner out at this fabulous Thai restaurant, and they presented us with towels to wipe our hands at the beginning of the meal. Mark embarrassed us all by grumbling that he was American so he didn't DO that shit, and he threw the towel on the table. We all jumped on him, and he just bitched back. Then, several years later, he worked for a company that transferred him and his family to Indonesia for four and a half years. THAT is irony. Now he lives in Canada, and he's much more open-minded and accepting about different customs than I ever thought he could be.

Another view of irony would involve bourbon. See, last weekend, I decided to go shot-to-shot with Grant and every brand of whiskey he had (oh, five or six at least). That was NOT a good move. It seemed like a fantastic idea at the time, but the morning after it seemed like a lousy idea. So, I tell Grant, I don't want to see nor taste whiskey again for a LOOOONG time. Then I get home and my mom announces I'm in charge of making the bourbon balls this year for Christmas.

Sigh.

The pecan mixture is marinating in the bourbon as we speak. Even the smell of that stuff made my tummy protest.

*****

I need to redo my blogroll. I really, really do. I will try to do that over Christmas and add some people and take off some blogs that no longer even exist. I won't promise, though, because it's entirely possible that laziness will overcome and I'll do jack shit.

Why My Daughter is Superior

2006-12-02T16:22:00.000-08:00

When I see other people's children in action, I often cringe, hoping desperately that's not how MY precious kids come across. But then again, how could they? These kids have been raised to be selfish and rude. Mine say please and thank you and are considerate (they don't do sir and ma'am, but that's because I have always been annoyed by that particular type of politeness for some reason). Mine are adored by other parents and begged to be brought back because they are so sweet. Yes, yes, it is true: my children totally rock.

Now, I will make an exception for Andrew. Andrew is Ariana's "boyfriend." This little boy is the most considerate, kind-hearted, empathetic little boy in the universe. I am amazed by him. I have no idea what Ariana told him about my financial situation, but after Andrew arrived, he made a point of catching me alone in my room. I shit you not. And then he said, very solemnly, I have $20. I would like to give you $20 to help pay for things today. I looked up from tying my shoes, surprised, and said, Andrew? It's ok, honey. I set aside money for today. You can each get a Build-a-bear, and I've got it covered. His reply? "Well, I get an allowance. I have $60 saved already. It's really ok. I'd like you to take the $20 to help out." WOW! Folks, he's NINE. By then, I had finished tying my shoes and I stood up to smile at him. "Andrew, it's all right. I swear. I would be happy to take care of things today. Why don't you save that $20 to buy stuff for your Build a Bear instead?" He nodded, just as seriously, and then went out to find Ariana and her other friend.

I had a long talk with Andrew's mom today and now have a clear picture in my head as to why Andrew is absurdly mature and aware for a nine-year-old boy. He had a brother, two years older than him, who was special needs. This child was like an infant for his entire life, so as Andrew matured and his brother did not, Andrew automatically wanted to step in and help out with his older brother. With tears in her eyes, Andrew's mom described exactly how paternal and caring Andrew had been for the son they had lost. Then she described how three years ago, the brother died. He had just passed right before Andrew came home from school, and he had to see the body of his dead brother...whom he had taken care of for years. Sniff! We also agreed that both Andrew and Ariana would give another child the shirts off their backs if they were in need, and both of them were abnormally giving for small children.

Which brings me to the other part of this post.

The little girl Ariana had chosen to take as her second friend to this event (only two! Are you kidding me? do you know how expensive these damned stuffed animals are?) had been given some money to spend at the place to get Ariana her birthday present. This girl then decided she really wanted to spend the money on herself and give Ariana nothing for a birthday present instead. She basically knew her mother had given her the money for a present, but she was enticed by wanting to purchase more stuff for herself. So she asks Ariana if it's ok to do that, and Ariana immediately tells her that a present is unimportant to her compared to her best friend's happiness. And that this child should, indeed, spend the money on herself instead. When Ari came up and told me this with a grin, I hugged her tightly, feeling very emotional. "But mom! Things just aren't as important as her happiness. So, if she's happy, I'm happy. And that's ok," she replied, surprised by how much I squeezed the life out of her with the intensity of my hug. And then I whispered fiercely into her ear, "I am so very honored to be your mother. You are a beautiful soul, and I am prouder of you than words can possibly express." I was vaguely angry at the girlfriend for being so selfish. But that part was not my business. My business is my daughter's happiness on her birthday, and she was definitely happy. In fact, she giggled and seemed vaguely confused as to why I was so proud of her over it. She didn't do this for attention; she genuninely did it because things do NOT matter as much to her as seeing her friends happy.

Later on, two neighborhood girls came over the second they saw us return from the store. They got cake with the other kids, and ice cream, and then became royal pains in the asses. "I'm gonna leave if I don't get my way!" "I don't like this, I want something else!" "Give me that!" My nerves were then shot, so I was relieved when their fathers came to fetch both girls. Whew! Murder was about to take place.

My daughter's had a great day. She's nine. She has a Build a Bear she really wanted. And she had a nice day with her friends. Oh, and Andrew picked out the SWEETEST CARD for her, plus brought THREE presents for her (just what she wanted, too...good job Andrew!), so to her? Life is perfect. I hope I can help her keep that feeling because this little girl is amazing. And I AM honored to be her mother.

Blue Clit

2006-11-27T18:21:00.000-08:00

So, I have been told all my life that men can get Blue Balls. It sounds painful, but I know that women can get the same condition. That article states it's called "pelvic congestion" in women, but that's inadequate to me. It doesn't quite get the idea across of what happens to a woman when she's stimulated and has no release. So, I'm going for Blue Clit. Women who tease a man and give no release are called Cock Teases, right? So a man who does the same must be a Clit Tease.

If a hot guy rubs on and up on a girl, that's definitely Blue Clit time. Don't believe all those bullshit men groaning around that women never want sex. In my world, my female friends can outfuck any man if he's good enough to stimulate her. Most of my male friends could never keep up with my female friends.

So, there's your term of the day: Blue Clit. If you rub, go through with it, or you're just a Clit Tease!

This was a public service announcement.

The Simplicity of It All

2006-11-19T13:55:00.000-08:00

Without a doubt, I have suffered from depression in my life. And when I have suffered from it, it's been bad. The worst and longest episode I ever had started when I was pregnant with Jared and my entire marriage was collapsing around me. It didn't end completely until I moved out of the house, although it started to slowly get better after I announced my full intent to divorce him (oh, and Zoloft and a good counselor also helped me too).

In a typical year, I guess something will set me off for about a month of morose feelings wherein I ponder how I can't do anything right and my life lacks X, Y, and Z. For the rest of the eleven months of the year, I find that--other than the occasional anxiety attacks that probably could be controlled with meds if I'd just tell the doctor about them--life is too good for words. I find that I'm able to hold that ideal merely by paying attention to the details, appreciating every one of them. Since I DO have occasional depression or anxiety attacks, I can say for certain that such a level of appreciation of life is not within the chemical grasp of all of humanity. I'm sorry about that. I feel very, very blessed for the capacity to enjoy life and be so damned happy nearly all of the time.

When I'm in the Up Mood, I tend to NOT concentrate on what is going on nor what I can't do due to circumstances. For instance, I can't get a PhD right now because it would require moving. I am not allowed to move anywhere with my kids without the ex's approval (he won't) or a court battle (no thank you). Angie has tried to convince me before that I could get a PhD in Education, but I really want to return to literature. That's my main love, even if I enjoy teaching a hell of a lot too. Sometimes, when I'm doing some of the grant data entry type stuff for the grant Angie is working on, I realize WHY it's actually facinating to have a degree in this area. I'm totally intrigued by watching how some of these young kids use the Internet and how their minds work on solving the problems. Each one has a different method and different approaches to some degree or another. Sometimes they even manage to show me something I just never thought of before either. But, on the whole, I don't want to end up teaching education...I want to teach literature and writing. I want to finish my literature PhD. So, how do I avoid getting depressed about that? I suppose I choose just not to think of it. Instead, I focus on how much fun I'm having as a lecturer at Clemson already. I'm doing what I want to do without that completed PhD, so it's ok.

And it's really the tiniest of things that makes my heart swell and feel amazed. The other day, I was walking to class and saw tiny little baby leaves, all fall colors imaginable, sprawled out across the walkway in front of the library at Clemson. They at first reminded me of little monkey paws, some drowning in the puddles left from the last rain, some rustling in the breeze. The air smelled clean and fresh and a little heavy and filled with energy. I loved seeing these small details. I felt lucky to have noticed them.

Every tiny experience seems to sharpen for me when I'm in this type of mood. Food tastes better. My smell heightens, and I could bury my face into Alex's chest all day long just enjoying his natural odor. Or the hair of my children, a mix of their shampoo and earth and maybe paint or glue or whatever else they did that day, plus their natural scent. I stare at my daughter's mischeivious grin and realize how much of an honor it is to be her parent, for she is smart, sweet, funny, and beautiful beyond compare. I watch my son's curious nature pull apart two perfectly built Bionicles and form something new, strange, and interesting, and seeing his mind work thrills me. My cat purrs and curls up on me, and his soft fur and low rumbly noise soothes me. There's a lot I can't afford, but hey! We're making it! We can go out to eat, buy decent wine, and do some fun things PLUS pay for rent and food. Oh, and we are all covered by health insurance. That's fantastic.

One of the parts of my relationship with Alex that is most enjoyable to me is that he's just as bad. He follows the details, laughing alongside me. I don't need to worry him that I might be annoying as I live and love life. I could dance in a warm rain with him, and he'd laugh right along with me. I can make mmm mmmm mmmm noises all the way through a meal, and even bounce, and he just laughs and thinks that's great (for the record, unless I'm misreading things, I think that doesn't bother Grant either...he fed us pretty damn well when we were there last and I was constantly bouncing and saying mmmm! that's great!...and he didn't smack me once...haha!). In all actuality, that's rather like my mom's personality in a lot of ways, so my family already puts up with it well.

It's not that I don't want to place the smackdown on folks who annoy me. It's not that I can't cry when I hear bad news. It's more of...I recover fast. And then feel happy. You know what? Happy feels fantastic. I guess my biggest fear really IS that the parts of my life I value the most might go away because life right now is pretty damned good. There's a lot I don't have, sure. There's a lot I have to deal with, sure. But I guess I don't concentrate on the nots. I don't concentrate on the can'ts. I don't concentrate on the bad. I, instead, focus on the cool night air and the scent of my children's hair. Life can be hard, but it's also good. I'm glad I can see that. It's a gift onto itself.

Death of a Student

2006-11-13T17:27:00.000-08:00

So, on Sunday morning, Alex fetched the paper for me. It's the only day of the week I really want a newspaper (read: coupons). I catch up on some news, look at the things I can't afford to buy, clip coupons, and read the funnies. This time, however, I found more than I wanted.

I saw the headline, "Clemson freshman killed in collision," and I mused, I wonder if he's one of mine? The chances were very unlikely considering the sheer number of freshman at Clemson. But no, I look and there he is...and I make a strangled cry. It is the sheer shock of seeing the death of somebody I know in print. It is the agony of realizing this boy was 18. It is the dread of how the class will take it. It is, in the end, after I read the entire article...a realization that even though I talked to him about something he needed to watch for, he didn't.

See, Doug kept falling asleep in class. It's hard to fall asleep in my class. I'm very loud. I'm very energetic. Usually if somebody falls asleep in my class, it's due to a one shot deal wherein he or she is too tired for words, and it's never done again. But Doug had problems looking groggy all the time. I talked to him about it. He told me that his ROTC stuff that he did had him up before dawn, and out doing exercises at 6a. He told me, you think I look dead by your 930a class? You should see how I look at 8a in chemistry! We laughed, but I told him that he really needed to find a way to get more sleep because he wouldn't really absorb anything in class if he kept falling asleep in it.

The article said that Doug crossed over the line at 1a on Saturday morning as he drove his car. Nobody else was in his car, and the other fellow was alone too. The other fellow is in serious condition in the hospital; Doug pretty much died right away. I bet anything he fell asleep at the wheel. Sigh.

It's just so young! 18 yrs old. I can't imagine what it's like to be his parents in India, getting a call about the death of his son. Doug's father is Air Force, and he has been stationed in India. Doug, in fact, flew over from India at the beginning of the school year. And now his parents get to fly over and fetch his body. I guess as a parent myself, that really affects me...to visualize that.

To lighten the mood, I told my classes today that the rule is now that if I know you, you can't die unless I choose to kill you myself. They laughed.

******

Ariana's officially in the gifted and talented program here in South Carolina, called Quest. There are seven kids from her grade level in the program, and my daughter is the only girl. The others are boys. Interesting side note: four of those six boys have hit on her at one point or another (one is her current boyfriend, Andrew). I think that proves that smart boys prefer smart girls.

She's incredibly excited about being in the program. She goes every Wednesday with the others, and they learn different things the others don't learn...in a much more exciting way. I am very excited for my daughter, but I am worried as well. Not for her of course. I am worried for the OTHERS. See, my daughter will thrive no matter what. That's what being gifted usually means. But the kids who really need the extra push, the one on one attention, the more interesting assignments? Well, they won't get this class. I feel it's all about the smart getting smarter and leaving the others behind, and that part makes me sad.

But I'm not voicing that complaint to Ariana. She's excited, having fun, and thriving in the program. It DOES make me quite happy and grin for her to see her this bouncy about Wednesday at school now. Her mind is absorbing this extra knowledge like a dry sponge. I know she needed more stimulation at school, and at least now she's getting it!

Happy Election Day!

2006-11-07T16:24:00.000-08:00

So, if your last name is "Bass" and you want to have a photo op for elections, this is how to NOT stage it!

Fall Break

2006-11-02T04:36:00.000-08:00

So, we finally have our fall break coming up! I can't believe they put it in November. We have Monday and Tuesday off. I think they did it that way so they don't have to give us TU off to vote. Clemson doesn't like to give days off. That's why we were supposed to labor on labor day.

I'm ready for this break. It's easier from now on out as far as the vacation time goes. We have Thanksgiving coming up, and then by Dec. 8th I should be done with all classes. Ahhhhh. That will feel great.

The visit with Grant went great. I think he is saving throwing us in the basement for the next visit as he didn't have time to prepare to capture us this last time (he's been working so many overtime hours, you see, that he just wasn't able to gather up the materials). He told me we had to come down again before Christmas, so that's how I know he's not yet given up on that plan! We were supposed to see Angie from Atlanta (Can of Worms Angie), but she had problems with her car the day we were supposed to meet up, and that didn't work out. So I ate her part of the food in order to honor her.

We had a full weekend of gorging. I tried for the first time ever this quail egg sushi that had some type of roe with it (likely salmon), egg yolk and fish eggs all wrapped up together in seaweed. The yolk would burst across the eggs, giving them additional richness and flavor. Very intriguing. I had to have oysters at Pappadeux (they have the best oysters! oh, and fantastic crawfish bisque)...yum! We ate Japanese for dinner Fri and Sat, Cajun for lunch on Sat, and then Mexican for lunch on Sun. By the time Sun dinner rolled around, we all discussed that we were too bloated to eat out for dinner, so Alex and I just hit the road home.

It was really on Sunday at lunch I realized fully what a freaking pig I am when it comes to food. I always have teased people that I can outeat them, but you'd think that both Grant and Alex--males who are bigger than me--would not let that happen. Nope, they both had take home boxes with a full meal in it for later, and I finished my plate (well, I finished the tamale, the taco, the two cheese enchiladas, and then ate a pile of chips and salsa and queso...I DID leave the rice and beans behind). On Saturday, we all split mussels for an appetizer. Then Alex and I split a bowl of soup. Then I had a salad, and that was all before our main plates came out. Alex pointed out to me that Grant had one appetizer; he had two; and I had three. Um. Well. But um...ok. Never mind. I can't fight that one. I wonder why I don't weigh 300 lbs with what I eat? I've definitely picked up weight in the last year or two. I've never been heavier. But I'm still not what one would call "fat." I think that means I still have a great metabolism, but it's slowing due to age. Damn you, age!

The movie selection wasn't so brutal this time, but that might also be because I passed out cold on Saturday night before we managed to pop in Entrails of a Virgin. Grant has been telling me I can't hold my liquor and I need to train more. Hmmm. I think I'll always be a wimp with alcohol because even though my tolerance has most certainly improved the last couple of years, I still can't do heavy drinking two nights in a row. In fact, if we're talking more than a glass of wine with dinner, I have a limited number of times per week when I can drink more without me feeling just blah. I would make a piss poor alcoholic. So, drinking heavily on Sat night meant no alcohol on Sun or Mon at all (even my customary glass with dinner that I often do at home was out Mon night). I think I had a glass Tue night. Nothing last night. I'll never be able to train hard enough to get there. Grant'll just have to tease me more.

It was funny, though...we were watching a movie called Audition (of course it was Japanese...both Grant and Alex like Japanese movies a LOT). It gets really graphic at the end, and the guys both know I handle violence not so well (hence why I drink heavily at Grant's: it makes the movie choice more tolerable to me!). I went to the bathroom, came out, and it was at the end of the movie, so they directed me to close my eyes and stay away from the TV at that moment. Therefore, I turned around and sprawled out on the airbed Grant has in his dining room nook. And promptly passed out. Now when I say, "passed out," I mean TOTALLY OUT. They had problems waking me afterwards. This apparently amused them both greatly. Grant, because he is a true friend, took two pictures of me drooling on his bed. Note: since that's where Grant was sleeping that night, I hope I drooled REALLY COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF SALIVA on his bed for taking those pictures! Then, of course, to complete the photos--like bookends--he took a picture of me the second I rolled out of bed the next morning.

A trip to the liquor store was really fun for me, but I feel badly that I got caught up in a conversation with the wine dude while Grant waited. Wine is not Grant's interest at all. However, I enjoyed talking to this guy because he really knows his stuff! I get frustrated now because although my level of knowledge on wine is, at best, intermediate...many of the people bigger wine places hire have beginning level knowledge of wine, so I try to ask questions and realize they know less than I do. Useless. Bah. This guy, however, had TONS of knowledge right on the tip of his tongue, so I found out a lot of stuff about the wines they had there and wines in general I wouldn't have discovered without talking to him.

So, after all that driving, my back is pissing me off still this week. Oh well. It was worth it. We had a great time.

****

Trick or treating had two pirates in our household. Both Ariana and Jared dressed up as pirates for the holiday, and my ex and I took them out trick or treating together. Ariana had requested it. They got a good haul of candy, so life was good.

Ariana's scrapbook--long story, but it was not done at first correctly due to her father's lack of help and lack of willingness to purchase materials for it--originally had a bad mark on it, but I have always taught Ari to fix mistakes when they are done, even if the only satisfaction we get is to know we tried to fix it. So, we sat down and in two hours, my daughter redid the scrapbook pages for her school project. They were magnificent, and the teacher so kindly understood Ariana's situation and regraded it anyway! So, she is very, very proud with how gorgeous it looks now. She wanted to show her father how much better it is now that she fixed it, so she walked up to him with the scrapbook in hand, holding it out to him like a sacred text, solemnly intoning, "Do you think you are STRONG ENOUGH to handle the magnificence of my scrapbook? Do you think you can HANDLE the beauty that lies within?" I swear I started laughing so hard that I beat the table with my hand. She was so serious-faced when she did this! Where does she come up with this shit?

Ok, off to school I go.

Heading to Atlanta

2006-10-27T11:25:00.000-07:00

Alex and I are just about to head to Atlanta to visit Grant for the weekend. I'm telling you all this so you know exactly who has us if we disappear. One never knows with Grant ;)

My back is killing me. Alex's back is also killing him. We're just about to drive three hours in the car anyway. What I tell myself in my head is: don't bitch about it. You could have two herniated disks like Angie (JPD). Now THAT would hurt. Shut up weenie. You can drive on this sucker. So, I shall. Plus there is copious alcohol at the end of the journey, and that always helps.

Anyway, I plan on gaining at least five pounds. I think we'll also get to see the other Angie too (Atlanta Angie--"Can of Worms"). Grant is making me (yes, I'm so unwilling!) do a three sushi tour of Atlanta to compare. Mmmm. I think I've mentioned I could eat sushi every night of my life! We're also getting mexican food one day and cajun food another. It should be fun! See y'all later!

(well, unless Grant kidnaps us and throws us in his basement, but then you'll at least be able to tell the police where the bodies most likely are...)

No, Really, I am Typing! I Swear!

2006-10-22T20:19:00.000-07:00

Well, after reading Laura's last post--even though she singled me out as somebody who is not worrying her because I DO post on other people's blogs to show I'm alive--I felt like I needed to just blog a bit before I head to bed.

I've been managing at least a post a week, but this week disappeared on me. I only had two files for the grant to do this week, so that wasn't it. Alex arrived on Wed night (a friend dropped him off on her way to Clemson) because he had fall break on Thur and Fri. I just have enjoyed having him around for an extended period of time. But now he's in Columbia, and I'm here. Sigh. I love being married to that man, but this not being able to sleep with him every night is killing me. I'm all about the snuggling at night, you know?

****

So, my son supposedly can't read. My daughter couldn't read at this age either (5) supposedly as well, but the librarian told me that she caught her reading full sentences to another child. For some reason, it was important to Ariana to not reveal her reading capacity for another year. My son seems to have the same issues going off too.

Tonight, while Alex and I were chatting, Jared pulled out his Bionicle book. "D-O-O-M! That spells doom...oh, and V-I-P-E-R! That spells viper. This one's a doom viper...cool!"

The boy probably can't read the word "house," but damnit he can read "doom viper." Yes, he is the child of geeks.

****

So, after hearing a story about a mom and her son who couldn't get along for years, even though the other son tried to mediate between them for some sort of resolution, I was reminded of my sister and my mom. My mom made mistakes all the time with parenting. Hell, so do I. But I've been a foster care worker, and I know what a truly bad parent is. It's not mom. If I really want to have a point of reference about a psycho bitch mom, I'll ask Grant for more stories about his mom. That being said, my mom certainly has her flaws, and I can understand why my sister has issues with her.

However, considering how my sister has always treated my mom, I can understand why my mom has issues with my sister, too.

I've always been tossed in as the mediator. I don't know why. I seem to have this unpleasant knack throughout all my life of being placed in between two people who don't like each other, and there I am wondering if I'm doing or saying the right thing. My mom and my sister don't lie about what they perceive has happened in a given argument. They really think X or Y has happened. Yet if anybody were there as a witness, he or she would wonder wtf the whole argument was about. It's one person taking one part wrong, the other taking great offense at the reaction, and a fight following. I love my mom; I love my sister. With a few exceptions over the years--the kind that any people who are close for decades will have--my mom and sister are really good to me. My sister has hurt my feelings this summer, but to be fair over the course of our relationship she's probably done something to hurt me maybe one or two other times ever. My mom only upsets me--truly upsets me--once every couple of years too. And any time they hurt me, it's not intentional. That's something I seem to keep in mind but they can't.

I guess that's why I feel they'll never be close no matter how much I mediate their arguments. They always believe the other person has malicious intent to the other, when in fact it's often just two different personality types with two different needs on how to approach an issue. Or it's just one person using language that seems very hurtful on the surface, but was not intended to be so. Do I think that a person can be mean on purpose? Hell yeah! But knowing my sister and my mom as I do, I doubt they are doing so deliberately. You have no idea what a shock it is when I find out that somebody has done something malicious to another. It's not my style at all. I will grumble about a person if I have issues, but if that person asks me to my face I will repeat everything I remember saying. I don't like assassinations. I don't like sneak attacks. If either my mom or my sister did something deliberate to the other, I'd know it...they don't.

Let me give you an example of my mom's stellar lack of tact.

I was raped when I was 19. No, no, let's not go into the details...that part is not the point. It's not something I choose to blog about, and I've dealt with it in the long haul. However, when I told my mom, the first words out of her mouth were--and I shit you not, she had this serious, intent look on her face and this was not to be mean nor was it a joke--"well, at least you weren't a virgin!" Sigh. When I calmed down later on and tried to explain to her how hurtful that comment was, she still didn't get it. One hour later, I succeeded, and she apologized. And people wonder why women don't let others know when these incidents happen...anyway! My mom eventually got it and apologized. It took a lot out of me to show her why that was not the best thing to say. My sister doesn't have that sort of patience with my mom, nor does she have the trust that my mom loves her and wouldn't WANT to hurt her.

Man, I could keep rambling about this one forever. All I can say is that the story I heard about today had a happy moment in it: the son called up his mom and said he realized that his mom loved him, and he loved his mom, and he was sorry if he ever made her feel that she was not loved despite all his complaints about things that had happened over the years. I was happy for that family, but sad for my mom and my sister. They tolerate each other fine. They even visit each other (mostly for the sake of my sister's kids). But love each other? Understand each other? Make peace with each other? Nope, not happening. I just have to hang that one up. I can mediate. I can try to stay out of it. I can complain. Who the hell cares? It's not budging. At least I can feel relief that I see them both as wonderful people, and that my family, on the whole, is terrific beyond belief. I have my whole family, and they have me. I'm just sad that mom and my sister can't really say the same.

****

Speaking of parents, mom and dad got me an early Christmas present! I have a laser printer, and Alex installed it. It's wonderful! And Alex determined that my computer is in great shape except for the memory issue, so we bought a memory card and he installed it, more than doubling the capacity of the computer overnight. Sims 2 runs faster now. Isn't that all that matters?

****

I think I'm going to go broke this year with feeding students. Freshmen stuck in dorms eating crap food make me sad. I already have brought in crab dip, cupcakes, and brownie/cheesecake thingys for them.

****

And lastly, for those of you in the know, Radiocat has returned home after his expensive irradiation therapy. I now have a glow in the dark cat. I can't let him sleep with me for two weeks, and I can only pet him for short periods of time per day. But he's likely cured (98% cure rate), so all is well. My cat's superior to yours because he's radioactive. Beat that.

Exhaustion

2006-10-11T16:04:00.000-07:00

Anybody who has small children now or has had them in the past knows that feeling of sleeplessness that one gets from no more than three hours of sleep in a row, perhaps no more than that in a given night, for days/weeks/months. Well, that's what I'm feeling, but there's no baby as a bonus for the effort. It's been a rough time lately trying to get these midterm grades in, and the last few nights I've received three hours of sleep per night. Today I realized I was finally fully affected. I had to drink constant caffeine, and also shovel in my mouth the chocolate that a wonderful human being had sent me, in order to not just collapse. I managed to drive to and from school for the kids and also to Clemson without dying or crashing the car. I'm so damned proud.

I kept repeating the same words today and stammering and losing concentration. Luckily, the classes had largely independent activities to take care of today, so I wasn't required to give a stellar lecture. Sadly, I have one more evening of this nightmare. THEN, tomorrow, I can sleep. At least I know when I'll get sleep. With a five year old and an eight year old, unless Ari has a migraine or asthma, or Jared gets sick (very rare on that one), I get to sleep through the night uninterrupted. I remember when they were infants and toddlers. One could wish for sleep, but the magic dice roll often was the determination of whether or not that dream would come true.

So, Thursday night, I'm aiming for a glorious eight hours of sleep. I finished up the grant files that Angie gave me, and I doubt she'll give me more by Thur night. Thur night...mmm...sleeeeeeepppp....

The midterm grades are frustratingly high for this unusual method of doing the English 103 class at Clemson. I say "frustratingly" because these kids are typically getting one letter grade higher than they deserve thanks to the lab component of the class. It's 20% of their Eng grade, and it's impossible to fail. In fact, you have to try NOT to get an A. So, under most circumstances, the lab grade bumps up the whole course grade by a letter. It's not that I like to see folks fail or get D's, but a little Fear of God for some of my slackasses would be nice at the midterm to ensure good work for the rest of the semester, you know? Oh well. It'll be difficult to have bad evaluations from students who are all doing well at least. I'm trying to look on the bright side.

I think one of the most pleasant surprises of this term is finding out that I have a talent that I never thought I had. Basically, I felt before this term that I could read, write, and analyze literature exceptionally well...plus cook well. I was working on superior wine knowledge, and that's about it. What can I say? My talents are rather focused. I can't sing, dance, play a musical instrument, draw, or do/enjoy math. However, what I do, I do well. I felt that at thirty-six years of age, I had already figured out just about everything I could do.

However, this term we have to spend considerable time on visual arguments. I've never, ever had to cover that in any class. It's all a new approach to me. It reminds me of what I always assumed an art class would use as an approach to art analysis. I think I had all of one class session on anything art related--a medieval art session in a medieval culture history class. Anyway, what I discovered is that visual analysis and noting visual rhetoric uses the SAME skills as analysis of literature and its rhetoric. To translate: man, can I ever bullshit on any picture I'm shown. Haha! I'm thrilled. I didn't even KNOW I could do this! I've gone to art museums, but my general reaction was oh I like that, oh I don't. Now, today, when I was with the class at the Lee Gallery, students would ask me what I thought of this piece or that and I'd completely dissect it, much to their delight. Maybe I'd take an art class now that I know I can get so much more out of it!

I'm sure many hilarious things have happened this week. Unfortunately, I can't remember one of them. I can't wait to get some sleep....

EDIT: no, actually, I remember something that entertained me recently now. I was talking to my ex. It went like this:

Ex: I still think you're FUCKING INSANE to get married again this soon

(note: this soon is four and a half years after I told him that's it, we're getting a divorce)

Kira's Reply: Look, I still think it's FUCKING INSANE I got married to you the first time.

He had to laugh. I got him good ;)

Messages to My Neighbors

2006-10-03T18:37:00.000-07:00

Ahh the joys of apartment life! Sometimes, I just have something to say to the wonderful people that live in my building. I'll try to gather all my thoughts in one go for the lot of them!

Neighbor #1:

Please understand that if you smoke so much ganja that Cheech and Chong would even pass out, the rest of us are bound to smell it too. I don't care that you smoke weed as long as my asthmatic daughter is not in your house while you light up your doobies. However, the policeman who lives a couple of buildings over? I'm thinking he'd mind, and unless he's got a deviated septum and can't smell, if he wanders this way, we'll have an apartment vacancy soon.

Neighbor #2:

Don't you ever get embarrassed by the frequency in which eviction notices, disconnected notices, and late payment notices are tacked to your door? Hey, if they're posted for all of us to see, I'm going to look and find out what it is!

Neighbor #3:

It's 930p. Put your damned 2 yr old daughter to bed instead of screaming at her for crying when she's just tired. Your parenting skills frighten me. At least when another neighbor left a note on your door telling you that she'd call DSS the next time she saw your 2 yr old and 4 yr old wandering free around the apartment complex, climbing into strange people's cars just to say hi, you listened and stopped endangering them....well, that way at least. Sigh.

Neighbor #4:

If you burn one more pizza at 3a and hence set off the fire alarm AGAIN, I shall kill you. It'll be legal and everything.

Neighbor #5:

Your hermit-like existence is glorious. I never see you except when you scurry into your apartment, and you never make noise. I love you.

Neighbor #6:

Thanks for never putting up a firewall on your wireless. When my cable goes down, I can always rely on you to have net access through the laptop!

You know, one day I'll have a house instead of an apartment, and I'll miss all these guys!

Constant Sleep

2006-09-30T19:02:00.000-07:00

Basically, I wore myself down this week due to lack of sleep. The end result was that a cold that my daughter had for all of 24 hrs has now hit me for three days, and I feel like crap. Oh well. Alex was able to get a ride up yesterday, so he took care of me last night and nearly all of today. I made dinner tonight, though, because I started to feel better, plus we had already bought the ingredients. I made a grilled duck with cherries and red wine reduction sauce (used a cup of a nice burgundy, then we drank the rest with the meal), and then I made braised leeks. Of course I had to throw in mashed potatoes because Alex has a potato fetish. No really. He does. He's the only person I know who, when given a choice of two side items, will choose two different forms of potatoes. I could tell it came out good, but my full taste range is hampered by the cold.

****

So, 24 hrs after Ariana handed Andrew the Puppy, he handed her back a Thank You card. Oh my god...a child...a male child...who writes thank you notes!!! He apparently made it on his computer with cardmaking software, and he put in lots of cats and dogs in the graphics for her. He then wrote her a little note inside about how much he appreciated it.

That's it. I'm going to negotiate the dowry with Andrew's mom this next week. I don't care if it's culturally against modern American culture to have child brides or arranged marriages. My daughter found a good one, and she's just going to have to keep him.

****

A student dropped my class yesterday, and I know why. He obviously has a learning disability. He will fail to get instructions that the rest of the class gets, even when he comes to see me one-on-one. It's like he doesn't hear every third word. I feel badly for him because he obviously cares about doing well--why else would he come and see me all the time?--but he just couldn't get it. His church just tested him for ADHD through some psychologist. I hope he comes back and tells me the result. Meanwhile, I think he realized that there was no way he'd get through my class this term AND manage the rest of his classes. Yes, he was struggling with all of them. When he dropped the class, I realized that I was both sad and relieved. I was sad because I genuinely like the guy and wanted to be able to help him. I'm relieved because there wasn't a way for me TO help him, so I don't have to fret about him anymore. Well, sort of. I mean, I'll always wonder what happened to him, but I don't have to worry about him specifically passing this class. He's not even a bad writer--he just can't follow instructions to save his life.

****

Miracle of miracles, I have a cell phone now. It's a fancy-schmancy one too, and I'm not sure what the fuck to do with it. Maybe I'll get one of my students to show me... At least I already figured out how to take pictures with it and how to play Tetris--you know, the important stuff. I still don't know what the holy hell this "bluetooth" ear thingy is that came with it, but I guess I can read the instruction manual about it later on. Or I'll wait until Alex figures out his whole phone and bluetooth thingamabob, and then ask him. Basically, Alex needed a phone of some sort (he has no phone at all at his apartment), and so we were just going to get him a phone. However, my car has 152,000 miles on it and I drive a lot in it too, and the other concern was that it'd break down on me and I'd be stranded. So, we purchased a "family plan" for both of us. Yes, we share minutes, but that hardly matters. I avoid the phone like the plague. I'm not using more than ten minutes a month, trust me.

****

And the last note today: it's a long story, but it took me I don't know HOW LONG to figure out what my sister needed...and I managed. My sister is not the best at revealing what is in her soul or what is bothering her, and it took me many, many months to realize why she blew up at me in June. It took her getting mad again this last Sept for me to read between the lines and figure out what was going on. I swear, people knock English lit as a useless degree, but it's that lit analysis background that enables me to often figure out people in a very beneficial way when I read their writings. Anyway! Rose and I are exchanging constant emails right now, and it is all ok. I really thought things could never be ok again, and they are. Funny, that...she NEEDS me. Why didn't I ever realize that my sister--even though she's nine years older than me and has often been a spare mom to me--NEEDS me too? I don't think I will forget the hurtful words she said to me months ago, but at least now I know what context to place them in. I'm glad to have her back in my life.

More Snippets

2006-09-25T15:22:00.000-07:00

It's all I have time for! Small little bits of information...oh well. I suppose it's better than not blogging!

****

I am wondering if my charter email is working at all. I haven't received emails at all this last day, and that's never happened in about two years. Also, Grant didn't even receive an email I sent him on Thur, and I'm not even sure he had received my resent copy. If you've been emailing to my charter account and I'm not answering, let me know in the comments below!

****

Further proof that I adore Ariana's boyfriend:

She decided for his birthday she was going to get him a Build-a-bear pet. I told her that was ok, but it had to be one of the cheaper ones (that'd be a choice of two teddy bears, a koala, and a puppy). She decided on the puppy, and then she had him outfitted in a little blue polo type shirt. Now, as cute as this puppy was, all I could think in my head was that the other boys would make fun of him for getting such a gift (it's third grade, guys). I was worried that he'd be embarrassed by it since he was getting it at school, and that the other boys would tease and that'd make him react funny too. But no! He blew off the other boys' reactions, and he said it was wonderful...at least ten times. He then ran off to show it to his mom (his mom works at the school). She thought it was wonderful, too. Andrew's mom is well aware that all Andrew has wanted out of life over the last two years was to have Ari be his girlfriend, and I think she was almost relieved that Ari did this for him as a sign that she cared, too. Apparently, Andrew carried it about and made it bark and said that it was ok to keep the name "Puppy" that Ari had put on the birth certificate (she wanted to let him decide the name).

Because I possess an overactive imagination, I picture the two of them "dating" until they hit fifth grade. At that point, I visualize Andrew going off to the local middle school, and then Ari going to a private school because by then, we can afford it. They cry. They swear they'll keep in touch. But fate conspires against them, and they lose track of each other. Then, both Freshman at Duke (hey, I'm allowed to dream that my daughter will go to my alma mater!), they stumble across each other and laugh. They had already had a few miserable dating experiences. They don't expect much out of the opposite sex. But hey, here they are again! So they go out on a date, and Andrew takes her back to his dorm room TO TALK ONLY BECAUSE THIS IS MY DAUGHTER WE ARE DISCUSSING, and there she sees...Puppy! On his bed! Worn, but loved.

And then I get three grandchildren, and they live happily ever after.

*****

My ex's brother is married to a very close friend of mine. She used to be my best friend (well, I used to feel I had two and she was one of them), but after the divorce, it made things awkward since being around me was a constant reminder of what I escaped...and what she still had to deal with. I DO like my ex brother in law. He, like my ex, is a good guy who just is royally screwed up. Well, he screwed up too far this time.

I'm sad for their child. It will be difficult for him. I know what she feels like right now, too. However, knowing how much my ex's brother is like my ex, I know she's doing the right thing. I think I'm getting my best friend back. I'm supposed to say, "It's under bad circumstances."

But let's be real. I've been waiting for her to escape for years, and I'm happy for her that now she gets to have a real, good, quality life with her son. I don't think it makes me a bad person to say, THANK GOODNESS! It's ABOUT TIME! I'm relieved for her is what I am.

****

I'm getting my schedule under control to some degree now! Yay! I think next semester will be TONS easier, too. Then I can continue my wine studies more, and maybe try and take the Certified Specialist of Wine test sometime next year. I'd like that. Oh, and take French next spring. I couldn't get it into my schedule this term, so maybe next term. I'm liking Clemson. I still refuse to wear orange though. I just...hate that color. I'll do purple, however. I told my students: get me a purple Clemson shirt, and I'll proudly wear it. Just...no orange. Brrr.

****

Oh, and married life? Yeah, it's marvelous. But then again, it's mostly due to the man I married.

****

And finally--Ariana had a straight-A progress report. I dangled another American Girl doll under her nose as a reward if she manages straight A's all the way through again this year. I'm not above shameless bribery. Jared doesn't get grades in kindergarten, but he seems to be having a good time of it anyway.

Misc. Tidbits

2006-09-18T18:19:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am still alive. I think I'm slowly starting to turn the bend here what with getting things straight. Unfortunately, the CU kids just aren't as good as listening to me as the Tech students were. I'm not sure exactly why, but I think it's to do with this simple fact: CU kids believe they are smart and know a lot. Tech students feel they do not know anything. Hence, the Tech students wrote down my words as if they were gold. Very few CU kids do that. Oh well. They'll learn!

I just handed in my "packet" to the faculty member who is writing up my evaluation and such. The evaluation day that he had with me seemed to go well, although I guess I can't really tell until much later on. I know it didn't go poorly, so at least for now there is no firing. One of the other lecturers said you'd have to get caught screwing a donkey to get fired mid-term, and even then, if you can prove that the donkey was going to somehow assist with CU being a top 20 school, you could get away with it...haha!

I DO like my kids a lot at CU. We are having some good discussions, and they are getting used to my sharp tongue/learning how to take me. I need to figure out Blackboard sometime soon though. I think if I post things up there in black and white that they'll get fewer instructions WRONG. Of course, on the other hand, it almost feels like I'm enabling them by doing it that way! They need to learn how to hear words spoken and absorb them. But maybe I'm just old-fashioned that way....

****

So, my daughter continues the fine tradition I had at her age: all her closest friends are now officially guys. When I was her age, though, we played Star Wars all the time. I was stuck being Princess Leia since I was the only chick. We had a Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, R2D2, C3PO, and Chewbacca. Nobody wanted to be Darth Vader, so we pretended he was there to fight against. Ahhh, young geeks! So sweet. Anyway, she primarily plays with three guys. Not coincidentally, these three guys are the smartest guys in the 3rd grade. They seem to enjoy her company and are good to her. What more can I ask?

One of those three boys is, of course, Andrew. Andrew continues to score point after point on the "Mommy Approves" scale. Apparently, he feels that since Ariana likes sweets and cookies so much, whatever his mother gives him in his lunch should be half hers. Ariana tells me that she will turn around to talk to another friend at the lunchtable and BOOM! She turns back and there's a chocolate chip cookie! Plus, Andrew very solemnly asked her a while back if she was "sure it's ok with your mom that you're my girlfriend." Bonus gold star for Andrew!

****

Also on the Ariana is a sweetheart scale...

I lose my patience with my daughter's writing and reading struggles. Now, mind you, I say "struggles" and what I mean is that she actually has to work at it to be good at it. Math and science and history and everything else are so natural they are like her oxygen. She's truly a member of my family that way. She missed out on my reading and writing talents, but that doesn't mean she's bad at it at all. She reads three grades above her level. I mean really...obviously she's good.

Still, when I was her age, I started writing stories for the heck of it. I found one of them last year, a story I wrote for my mom for mother's day when I was eight, and boy was it funny. First of all, my spelling was awful. But second of all, the story was an actual story with flow and plot and humor to it. Nobody had to show me what to do. I just read so much that I figured it out on my own. So....even though I teach college kids how to write all the time...I have no idea how to approach it on a basic level for my daughter.

She had to write an essay and I tried to "help" her. Please notice the quotes. See, I just kept losing my patience. Why wasn't she getting what I was saying to her? When she complained that she had no idea what she could do in an introductory paragraph for this essay, I fired off 12 things immediately. She burst into tears and said that was too much information at once...she didn't get it. Instead of slowing down, I grumbled and grumped. Some teacher I am.

Anyway, eventually I calmed down and so did she. The end product was fantastic for an eight-year-old. I was proud of her. But I felt sooo badly that I couldn't be the Nice Mom Who Never Lost Her Patience while I was helping her. As I tucked her into bed, I apologized. She nodded and said it was ok. Then a few minutes later, just as I was about to turn out the light, I bit my lower lip in frustration as I realized that I still felt guilty for grumping at her when she needed my help earlier. I apologized again. Her response:

With a soft sigh and a smile, Ariana replied, "Oh Mommy, this is the second time you said you were sorry. I forgave you the first time. You don't need to keep doing it."

I love my kids.

Yes, I am still alive

2006-09-11T19:05:00.000-07:00

I feel badly that I've not been responding to comments lately, but...wow. I'm overwhelmed right now with too much to do. Every day that I head to bed, I realize that I haven't done half of what I need to have done that day. It's frustrating, but I remind myself that the job at CU is SO much better right now, and next semester will be a breeze.

See, I already know I'll be teaching four 103's next semester. My name will be hooked up to classes sometime this fall...WOW. At Tech, I always got my schedule a day or two before classes started. This planning ahead thing is frighteningly pretty. Anyway, that's what I'm teaching this semester, so by next semester I'll have an idea of what to do or not do...within the limits that have been given to me, that is.

I now have health insurance, AND dental. The kids too. Woohoo!

I have to change over my ss card and all the paperwork. That sucks. I need to fill out all this stuff for Alex to get his green card. That won't be fun, plus it's expensive: $190 application fee. I swear our embassy makes a killing. In France, if you call the American embassy, it costs a flat fee of like $15, charged to your credit card, just to talk to them. Americans know how to squeeze those bucks out of anything! There's stuff to juggle with the kids and their school. There's a ton of papers to review and evaluate (I'm not supposed to/allowed to grade them). I have to work on this grant thing too. And read the book more. Arg! I know it'll get better. This is just an intense beginning to the school year is all.

I ran into a former student from Tech at a local mexican restaurant today, while I was there eating lunch with Amanda. She was so distressed that I wasn't there at Tech anymore (she still is...for now). I gave her the scoop on my situation, and she was glad that I was now at Clemson. After a little discussion, I found out one other simple fact: it's not just the English department that has had teachers just...removed...for no reason either. And the grumbling amongst the students is that the different departments who removed teachers removed...just the good ones! What kind of holy shit sense does that make???? Oh well. I guess HR at Tech has taken some crack. Anyway, it was good to see her. Sadly, I didn't remember her name right away because I'm awful with names, but I knew EXACTLY who she was and her whole life story as we often chatted. I also then, after Amanda dropped me off in front of my building, ran into ANOTHER former student...my best student ever from any class. Oh wait, he can have a tie with Bennett. So, David gave me a hug and we chatted a bit. It's so cool because he's one of a handful of former students I've seen now at CU. It's not like it's a new place, what with former students and friends there.

Married life is great. We haven't destroyed any more furniture (EDIT: or ourselves, Valerie! Sorry to have worried you! Haha!). I still laugh when I think of Greg's idea of mounting the headboard over the fireplace. Haha! Our friend Eric has now decided to call Alex "King Kong" as a result, and that amuses the crap out of both of us. Alex is just as busy with his schooling right now as I am with mine. It looks like the way his classes go, he'll be swamped through November. Still, he's been getting great grades, and I'm very proud of him. Most American MBA students aren't doing as well as he is despite already walking in with an understanding of American business terminology. He has the disadvantage of having to learn so very many new terms, plus he has to make sure to not get the French system confused with the American (like in his accounting class). Yet he still does so well, and he works hard on all his tasks. If I were as motivated as Alex, I'd already have a couple more degrees and a few published books...haha!

So, anyway, folks...that's why I'm just not able to blog as much right now: school/work. It'll calm down eventually. I remember what it was like when I just started up at Tech, and I KNOW it calms down eventually. And when I get my first paycheck Sept. 22nd, I'll remember why I'm so happy to be at CU. Haha!

Alex the Bedripper

2006-09-03T16:47:00.000-07:00

Thanks, everybody, for your congratulations! I just thought I'd like you to know that all went well and we were indeed married yesterday morning. The only thing that happened during the wedding that was noteworthy was that the man who married us thought that Eric and Maureen, my friends, were a set of parents for either me or Alex. Maureen is only 6 yrs older than me, so she did NOT take this well. Eric thought it was funny.

On a final note--and this might fall into the category of TMI for some of you, but damnit it's too funny not to share--Alex and I had a hilarious incident while we were doing wedding night activities. The hotel had a wonderful bed with a pretty, thick, wood headboard that was screwed in solidly to the wall. Yup. Screwed in solidly until Alex the Bedripper gripped onto it with his mighty force and tore it from the wall! HAHAHAHA! Oh, my goodness...that was some funny shit. The look of shock on his face was amazing as the headboard then slid to the ground and dust flew up from the drywall that was coming out. He really and truly gripped so hard onto that sucker and was so intent on his goals that he didn't realize that he was RIPPING IT OUT OF THE WALL! We couldn't continue. I laughed so hard I almost fell out of the bed, and then after a moment more of shock, he did too. Then I tried to fix it...I hope they don't realize what happened. I'd hate to be charged for a headboard! Hahaha!

So, we are married, and life is good. Now I get to do the frustrating process of changing my name on 5, 426 forms....

The General News

2006-08-26T14:27:00.000-07:00

So I thought you guys would be interested to know the big news:

Alex and I decided to do the civil ceremony NOW, and then do the party in France probably in December of 2007. So, those who want a reason to be in Clermont-Ferrand at that time, you have it! Come on down! Haha!

So, when do I legally become Mrs. Sol?

Sept. 2nd, Saturday. A week from today.

We aren't inviting anybody save the witnesses and the children. It's sort of a "get r done" type of arrangement that will make immigration easier for him later on and our life easier NOW in a variety of ways. Grant had an excellent point earlier: maybe a year and a half of being married will calm me down enough to relax and enjoy the big party later on. I think he's totally right.

It's not like I have any doubts about Alex. Let's review. He loves my kids as his own, gets along with them better than their own father, and loves kids so much he wants more. In addition to loving kids, he loves animals, and he has pretty much taken on my cat Chian as his too (in fact, we sometimes have wars over who gets cat custody for the week...haha!). He listens when I babble, even if it's about stupid stuff. I know he's listening because six months later, he can act upon what I said or repeat back to me word for word what was bothering me. I get flowers, chocolates, and small gifts from time to time for no reason. I get nightly--and I DO mean NIGHTLY--massages of 30 min or more. I finally have a man who has a libido that can stand up to mine (not that you want to know this, but, um, I have problems wearing down men. I tease Alex that it's another reason why I went younger this time! haha!). He is physically gorgeous to me, containing the three major elements I find most physically appealing (jawline, light colored eyes, dark hair). He smells fantastic. He has a huge heart, willing to assist anyone at any time. Although very selfless, he also can put his foot down and have his own needs met when needed so that he doesn't ever get resentful. He's patient. He's considerate. He's smart, and damn does he make me laugh. We share similar passions (for geek things, movies, cuddling, books, travel, food, wine, etc.). He is motivated and works hard, plus knows how to budget and handle money. Additionally, he CLEANS MORE THAN I DO. Damn. The man is always vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing, or washing SOMETHING. Alex does not scream when he is upset...ever. Nor get a nasty face. He just quietly lets it be known that things are not making him happy, and then he wants to discuss the situation until we are both happy with the results.

I have never been happier in my life. I have a true partner, and I can't be thankful enough he entered my life. Plus, my family and friends all love him too! Nobody can ever come close to the great fit that is Alex in my life. I especially love how I can be the total bitch that I sometimes am and he just...looks at me with that adoring smile, saying "I love you." He doesn't care that I am a natural flirt, nor does he care that I can be very sharp with my words. He thinks it's great! Wow. Several years have passed, and here we are at this fantastic jumping point to the great beyond.

And hell, if it doesn't work out, Grant has strict orders to shoot me on sight ;) Alex has never screwed up, but I have one marriage behind me. Obviously if things go awry again, it's ME and not him, so Grant has agreed--out of feck off with love for me--to kill me if it doesn't work out. Where are the worries then? None, really.

We have the rings. I love the man in a way I never thought was possible to love another. As this morning unraveled, I marveled how we all just act like a family. Ari and I were talking about her current Man Situation, curled up in a bed and giggling, and Alex was on the floor building bionicles with Jared. So peaceful. So homey. So perfect. What did I ever do to deserve great friends, great family, great kids, and a great husband-to-be??? Whatever it is, I want to keep on doing it because this is just...wow.

Just wow.

Just....wow.

******

So, on the Ariana front, speaking of the man thing:

Last year, her boyfriend was Mark (second grade love!). Mark never contacted Ari over the summer, and when they came back to school he assumed that no matter what, she was still his. He didn't have to say anything or do anything. Ari was his *grunt, club, drag off to lair*. Mark is smart and funny and nice, so it's not like I have an objection here to Ari hanging out with him, but still. That's the set up.

For several years at Ari's school, there has been this darling boy named Andrew who has worshipped her in a way that makes EVERYBODY know that she is adored totally by him. I admit the bias: he reminds me of the way that Alex treats me. Andrew sent Ari a carnation last year for Valentine's Day even though they weren't an item...and it made me sniff. Ari was pleased too. He felt he never had a chance with her. She was his dream girl, and he didn't deserve THAT. But he kept trying...awww, I guess that reminded me of Alex!

So the year starts out, and Andrew remains devoted to her, then asks if she will be his girlfriend. He asked twice when Mark continued to just assume. Now, in a situation that is sure to change by the time she is a teen, Ari said: I can't tell you my answer until I talk it over with my mom. She gives great advice, and I need to talk to her first.

(ok, so when she told me that part, I sniffed a lot...so sue me).

Friday, she told Andrew. Friday I will give you my answer. So, Thursday I pick them up at school and Ari tells me all of that. "What should I do?" she asks, clearly anguished.

"Well, has Mark said he cares for you or anything affectionate since school started? Did he ask you if you'd still be his girlfriend?"

"No."

"Ok, do you play with him at least?"

"Yeah, with others, but he seems to just think we're together and never talks to me about anything."

"Ok, so how does Andrew treat you? In contrast?"

"He talks to me a lot, tells me how much he likes me and how great I am, and asks me to be his girlfriend." (remember now we're at third grade....awwww!)

"Ok, so how does that make you feel? Do you like that, or do you prefer the way Mark interacts with you?"

(long pause)

"Mom, I think I need to be with Andrew because he's a better communicator. I think he'll work out better with me. He DOES treat me better for sure."

"Ok, then, so what do you think you should do?"

(giggles)

"Ok, I tell Andrew tomorrow that I'm his girlfriend!"

Andrew died of joy on Friday. It was so sweet. And Ari is happy with her choice. If only adult decisions could be made with such ease........

My New Life: The Beginnings

2006-08-22T04:52:00.000-07:00

Ok, before I detail my first day running around Clemson, let me just share with you a picture a friend sent me. It's Alex holding Jared. Now, you have to understand that my son, Jared, doesn't really like men. He likes girls. It's a long story as to why he doesn't really like men and why his relationship with his father can be, at times, awkward. Regardless, it's always amazing when he decides he loves a guy. Alex is definitely on that list. In fact, Jared has let me know on a number of occasions that no adult male ranks higher than Alex in his life (his best friend who is his age--and only real boy who is a friend--is Jake, and Jake ranks highest total on the boy list...haha!). Anyway, I thought this picture was cute! Since this is a pre-haircut photo for Alex, he will likely kill me for sharing it. I'll have to rely on feminine wiles to save my ass.

So, yesterday I had to run around Clemson. I needed to get as much set up as possible since classes start on Wednesday. Then I found out that because my background check hadn't come back yet--the perils of a new hire--I couldn't do SQUAT as far as getting my email, playing with blackboard, getting an ID, getting my parking tag, etc. I had to get a temporary parking tag to help me out until the rest of the paperwork gets in.

The first thing I noticed about CU is that it's freakin' HUGE. If I needed to go from one end of Premiere Tech to the other, it just didn't take long. This is just not the situation at CU. The best thing to do is cry for joy when you find a parking spot, sacrifice your goat in thanks, and then DO NOT MOVE THE CAR. That will result in parking space lossage. Walking, instead, is the best option. It's part of the health plan: walk, walk, then walk some more. You will not catch me wearing uncomfortable shoes at school. That would be the death of me. Whatever I ate for lunch was burned off by the end of the day. I think I'll be losing weight, something my lazy ass self needs anyway, so eh.

The campus is actually pretty. I was surprised I felt that way since I'm totally biased about Duke having such a gorgeous campus that none other can compare, the end. But yes, actually, CU's campus is lovely. That's a good thing since I will be enjoying a lot of it as I walk here and there daily.

As I walked down the halls and found my office (to be shared with three other lecturers), I realized that if this were either of my alma mater schools, I'd feel rather wierd then being able to teach there. At USC, I had a fellowship so I never had a chance to teach. Of course I never taught as an undergrad at Duke. But what if I went back NOW to teach? To walk in the classes and sit on the desk up front (of course sit ON the desk!) instead of in a desk in the back in the very same rooms would be strange, to say the least.

My first day there, everybody was super nice to me and helpful. I badgered Amanda a lot--something I feel vaguely guilty for because she was SO incredibly busy for a variety of reasons--but that was great to know I had somebody there TO badger. The woman who hired me is fantastic. I sat down and talked to her for about a half hour. I was able to meet one of "my" graduate students--a first year who will be doing two out of the four writing labs for the classes I teach. She seems friendly and individualistic. I think she'll be relieved that I'm the teacher she has to work with. Well, once she figures out how laid-back I am about "whatever it takes" to teach the kids and how I'll support whatever she wants to do in the lab as long as it helps the kids, I think she'll be glad at least.

I was given an ancient laptop to use. Hey, that's better than nothing!

One of the primary lessons I learned yesterday is that faculty meetings are BORING. Sigh. At Premiere, we never were included in meetings or anything because adjuncts were a lower rung on the totem pole there. Here, lecturers are full staff in how they are included. I'm even supposed to go to a retreat on Friday with the crew. So, anyway, I went to my first meeting. They voted on folks for committees, and I didn't vote because I had NO clue who was what. They also discussed the budget. Amanda had warned me about this, but...let's just say that I wish I had a dollar for every time they mentioned "to meet the goal of being a top 20 school" or some variant thereof. Anyway, the one part I found interesting was the ways that the department had found to raise money to help pay for other things. None of these ways involved "making the students pay a nameless fee," so that was cool. My biggest shock at the meeting? A teacher from Tech was there too as he was hired full-time. This fellow was the last person I expected to see at CU, so I was caught off-guard.

The last big surprise was a fantastic one. See, I was already excited because I was going to work less (I only teach four classes vs. the five to six classes I taught at Tech; no Writing Center hours at CU needed, vs. 10 hrs a week at Tech) for about $5k more a year. They gave the lecturers a raise this summer! So, I just found out yesterday that it's actually less work for $8k a year more than I made before. WOOHOO! Now I can afford to do whatever is necessary for my cat (my kitty is older and was just diagnosed with hyperthyroid...he's a good boy and deserves to be all patched up if I can manage it...at least now I know why he was waking me up for food, hungry, all the time, drinking more water than normal, and yowling a lot more).

So, things are looking up! I need to meet my other lab teacher and do more reading for the classes. I need to tweak the syllabus, email some people, and get everything straight for tomorrow. Most importantly, I need to get INTO the system after my background check comes back. After all that, I think I'll just sit back in awe of my good fortune. When Angie sent me the email about the lecturer positions a few months ago, I honestly had no idea if I could get one of the positions. And now! Here I am. Life is quite good!

Well, That Was Fast!

2006-08-16T10:09:00.000-07:00

Thanks to having friends who care about me a LOT and are willing to pester people for me...a LOT...I have....

A JOB!!!!!

Yes, I shall be starting up at Clemson University teaching four classes for the fall, and I will begin next Wednesday.

Note: the job is for more pay for doing less work and actually has health insurance. That's right...for the first time in four years, I shall have health insurance. WOOHOO!

Pardon Me While I Puke

2006-08-14T17:05:00.000-07:00

I was supposed to start up teaching in my usual adjunct position next Monday at the local community college.

Did you see the words "supposed to"????

I was just told that sessions had to be cancelled, and so therefore they probably won't need me for the fall. Now, I've worked there for three years. I get fantastic evals. I get along great with the staff. They already screwed me over RE: full-time position earlier this summer, but I didn't think it was THIS bad. What did I do? I review in my head over and over and over again...and nothing comes up. The one time I remember a conflict--serious--with a student, I handled it so well the Vice Dean of the school sent me not one but TWO thank you notes.

I've never had a job wherein they didn't beg me to stay when it was time to leave. I've never NOT been promoted and applauded. I am a hard worker, especially when I care about something as much as I do teaching. I'm just....stunned.

Well, stunned and panicking. I have two children to feed. I already was broke. I was relying on starting up next week for income. I might be able to do some hours in the Writing Center as a tutor, but that won't do more than maybe pay my basics.

So...pardon me while I puke. I have no idea what I'm going to do. None.

Why My Daughter May Not Be Allowed To Have Friends

2006-08-08T18:52:00.000-07:00

Finally! That's one of the lovely pictures Amanda took of my darling children :)

So, here we go...my daughter has a little playmate here at the apartment complex. The girl has been over a few times now. I already had to laugh because the girl, J, said "I had to quit ballet because the outfit showed my shoulders." I looked at her and asked if her bathingsuit covered more or less than her ballet outfit. She said, less, but she was IN THE WATER with the bathingsuit so nobody saw her shoulders. I said, "So, you never stand when you swim? You always are doggy paddling? Is that why nobody sees your shoulders?" Clearly, her brain started to explode and I realized I had best backpedal. "Um, well, if it bothers you of course you shouldn't do it and wear that outfit...." Then she happily told me that clogging required them to wear full shirts. Ok then.

Well, see, my daughter is worse. What happens when you take a smart girl who has been given the facts of life by her mom? Here's what happens....

J: Well, I KNOW that people have to be married to make babies.

Ariana, looking amazed: Who told you that nonsense? It's a good IDEA to be married first, but the way to make one is the same if you're married or not.

Oh yeah. My children will be banned from associating with the pure. That's all I can say. First I show them humping ducks...and then I tell her the stork did NOT bring them to me. You have to understand that this is also the girl who told me that she figured out that Santa didn't exist because he used our wrapping paper and had my handwriting, "But don't worry I won't tell Jared." Apparently, there was no such promise to not tell other kids about sex. Ok, so let's look on the bright side: at least now J won't be having sex with her bf at 14 thinking it was ok because they weren't married and so she'd never get pregnant!

Fecking Ducks

2006-08-03T11:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Amanda wanted to take pictures of my kids. So, we met at the Clemson botanical gardens, and she snapped a few good ones.

EDIT: blogger won't let me upload the fecking picture of the kids. I removed the tiny one to put in the bigger one, and asshole blogger won't let me. I'll try later.

Nothing could have been better than seeing the ducks, however.

As the kids watched, one all white, rather large duck ran away from a smaller male mallard. We were making jokes about it, unaware that what we were about to see was a duck orgy!

No, that one is not her picture. We had the unfortunate occurance that by the time the ducks went at it, she was out of film. See, the big white duck running off was prime for makin' baby ducks, and the male mallard--who cares if he's another species?--figured it out. Another big white duck joined in the chase, and I couldn't stop laughing as the two males piled it on, trying to get at the girl duck. DUCK ORGY TIME! I could barely get out the explanation to my kids that they were having sex, trying to make baby duckies, because I was laughing so hard.

Of course that alone reminded me that I'm not a normal mom that way. I remember being at the zoo once and this rhino let loose his manhood right there, and this woman--rather than answer her daughter's innocent question about "what was THAT?", instead gave a small screech and dragged her daughter off, telling her to hush and never mind. Ari was maybe two at that time. She pointed at it and looked at me and asked what it was. I just shrugged. "It's the Rhino's penis," I answered, and she went, "Ooohhh. Ok!" then went off to stare at the giraffes. I'm apparently not supposed to explain these things because it will somehow pollute my kids' minds. Oh well. They're MY kids. Their minds were polluted when they were born. It's ok :)

Now, because my mind doesn't work right, I went ahead and searched the net for duck sex pictures. I wanted to see how common it is for them to have this little orgy. It seems it's QUITE common, and it's always a bunch of guys jumping on one girl. I haven't found any pictures of one male duck going at it with all these females waiting in line. I can't decide if that is MORE intriguing to me than a pig's 30 minute orgasm or not.

Compromise

2006-08-01T06:21:00.000-07:00

Well, our weekend went like this: drive from Columbia to the upstate with two children in the car, drop them off at their father's office so he could have them for the weekend, then drive three hours to Grant's apartment in Atlanta. Along the way, it took longer than three hours because there was a spectacular accident...in the other freakin' lane. I wish I could blow up the car of anybody who holds up traffic just because they can't afford theatre tickets and so they want to stop in the middle of a busy interstate and stare at the wreck on the other side. There was seriously nothing wrong with anybody inbound for Atlanta on I-85. It was the outbound lane. But, every yahoo had to stop and stare, trolling his or her car along at 2 mph.

When we arrived, I had a need to consume alcohol and rapidly because, damnit, we were to watch Suicide Club and Battle Royale. I am SO glad I drank a bottle of wine. I handled it all very well after that point. I am not desensitized to violence enough to watch J-horror without being intoxicated. The alcohol also helped the pain. See, this whole last week I've been helping Alex move from one apartment to the other, all while watching the kids. I was SORE, especially after then being in the car for five hours on Friday. I woke up with a mild headache. SURPRISE!

You know, I hate the traffic in Atlanta, but the weekend on the whole reminded me of exactly why it'd be cool to live there for a while. First of all, Grant had no problem finding a place nearby that accomodated working schedules that taught languages, so he is able to go off on Sat. mornings to Japanese class. THAT is probably what I need for French if I ever want to get up to speed. Then there's all the great food right around the place...we ate at Umezono's (good Japanese food) twice, then also Pappasito's (good Mexican food), and finally Papadeux (good cajun food). I HAD OYSTERS!!!! Sorry. That was very exciting because you can't find them very many locations where I live (unless you want them raw or fried, which is not my preference). Next, Marietta has the big chicken, and the lack of said chicken in MY town makes me sad. They also have the hugest Whole Foods I've ever seen: Harry's Farmer's Market. I could live in that store.

On Saturday, we hung out with Angie (not to be confused with Jadedprimadonna) and Tim along with our host. Tim and Angie let me babble at them about wine when we were in Harry's; Grant wisely ran off with Alex to the beer section instead. Eventually, when we were back at Grant's place, we ended up spending half the time in the kitchen talking. Everybody got along fantastically! It was like a mini bloggercon in Atlanta, and we definitely have to do it again. I've had terrific luck meeting folks off the net so far in my life, honestly.

On Sunday, Grant and I watched Shaun of the Dead while Alex worked on some of his homework (Alex's MBA program has a rough week this week what with stuff due and tests, but he wanted to go to Atlanta anyway, so this was how he did some of his work and still managed to go). Towards the beginning of the movie, Shaun's girlfriend makes it clear what they need to do for their anniversary and that they are to do it and he has to like it. Grant made a comment about how he hated that...not only were you expected to do something you didn't want to do, but that you had to like it as well. I laughed. We talked about it for a while as the movie continued, and then the whole incident sat at the back of my head until this morning when, for whatever reason, I started thinking about it again.

Compromise. We all know that relationships require compromise, but how much? You DO have to occasionally do something you don't really want to do just because it's so important to the other person, but when half of your experiences with that person (or more!) are compromises of doing what you don't want to do, then I say run. Why, you ask? Well, to me that indicates that you don't have enough in common anyway to make it in the long haul! If everything I want to do he doesn't and vice-versa, then whenever we walk out of the bedroom we're going to be miserable. With Alex, we just have a fair bit in common, so when we want to go out to eat it's at the same types of places (I had to train him on Mexican food as it's not common in France, but he got there! haha!). Even though I'm the female in the universe who likes to shop the least, Alex likes to shop so whenever I DO have the urge to go to the mall, he's there and happy about it. We like the same types of movies. We like many of the same types of games and such too. Most of our music tastes accomodate the other's. That really makes it a LOT easier. However, we do have to compromise on occasion. For instance, the other weekend when my kids wanted all of us to go to the lake together, this was definitely a compromise for Alex because he's not into nature at all. He's a city boy. If he's going to swim, he'd prefer a water park or somewhere with no bugs and lots of chlorine. But, he did it and he did it with a smile on his face...and in the end, he found he enjoyed himself too.

You know, I DO think that if you agree to compromise and do something for the other person, you shouldn't be a wet blanket about it. If you can't be happy about it, then don't DO it. Say no. And if your woman or man keeps asking you to do shit that you'd rather gnaw off your right arm than do, I think you need to find a new significant other who is more compatable to your tastes. OR! Find other people to do these activities with. I would never dream of asking Alex to go camping for a weekend. If I wanted to do that with the kids yet wanted another adult around, I have several friends who could step up for me. Why make Alex miserable just because I want him there? Compromise goes from both sides. Sometimes it means that you do what the other wants, and you do it with love in your heart. Sometimes it means you don't even ASK the other to do it because you know he or she would really hate it, and you get somebody else to do it with you. Of course, then we have to get into another issue: jealousy. Sometimes a guy might like, say, hockey and his girlfriend doesn't. He should be able to go out, unpestered, to hang with his guy friends at bars to watch the hockey game or to go to one without the girl getting pissed because he's not spending more time with her. If you can't trust him to behave himself when he's out without you, then you've got the wrong guy...let him go. For pete's sake! Don't be a fecking babysitter! People can do things without each other, you know? Couplehood does not mean blending into one being and never separating.

So there you have it: my levels of compromise. I think you shouldn't ask a sig other very often to do something you know that he or she won't like. You should try to find other ways around that. If there are too many things you want to do that he or she doesn't, you don't have enough in common. If you have to always ask, even if the person does it, eventually there will be resentment. BUT! If you agree to do it, don't be an asshole. I can't imagine it would be fun for a man who loves hockey to take a woman with him who doesn't...and instead of trying to follow the game and what is going on, she whines all the way through and looks bored. Stay home, dumb ass. Wet blanket syndrome sucks. Ok, that's my two cents!

Don't Try This At Home

2006-07-26T20:35:00.002-07:00

I just thought it was time for a public service announcement.

If you are engaged in hot and heavy sexual activity with your loved one, no matter HOW damned intoxicated you are from alcoholic intake, do NOT shout out, "I CHOOSE YOU PIKACHU!" at the moment of climax. It will likely make your sig other laugh, but then unable to continue. See what I go through to save you from pain?

*****

I just spent an hour discussing corporate ethics with my eight year old daughter. We watched a video called The Meatrix earlier, and this was part of a larger discussion about capitalism and business decisions vs. morality and ethics. I couldn't BELIEVE how much my daughter followed and how she participated avidly in the discussion. Yes, she's briliant, but wow! Why did she even WANT to enthusiastically go over this topic for so long? She loves to think. She loves to analyze. She loves to ask questions like why, what if, and how come. Sure, it's annoying sometimes when I just wish she'd take what I'm saying and run with it. However, on the other hand, I couldn't be prouder for how she's turning out. My daughter is not afraid to question authority. That alone is a beautiful thing.

I Hate Moving

2006-07-25T12:57:00.000-07:00

I really hate moving. It makes me on edge until everything is in the new place and ready to go. I keep hoping that the next time I move from my apartment (I've been there for three years), I will be able to hire movers. However, regardless of my feelings about moving, Alex has to leave his current apartment and go into a new one THIS WEEK. See, he was living in this one apartment thanks to his internship for the last year...it was part of the job. He was thrilled by it: icemaker, dishwasher, washer AND dryer, and two bedrooms. Well, there's just no way we can swing something that luxurious this time around. He needs another place to live for this following year as he finishes up his schooling at USC, and then he will move in with us. Maybe one day we'll even get a house, but hey, that's far in the future right now.

So, the housing hunt started, and it was difficult to find a place that didn't look like a slum that was also a) in his price range and b) near the school. He has a bike but no car, so being within walking distance of the school was important. We *think* we finally nailed down a place, and we should be able to get the key tomorrow. Then we have to have everything moved in by Friday at 1p because at that time, we leave to take kids back to their father...and then head down to Atlanta to hang with some bloggers.

The move is stressful because I also have several other stressors brewing at the back of my head. Yes, we're planning on doing a civil ceremony within the next month or so and doing the full blown party later on in France. So, we've had to research rings and divert funds to pay for said rings. I'm still doing research on the marrying of a foreigner part too. Alex's lame ass French school still hasn't paid his tuition bill at USC, although they promise it will be done soon. This means he can't use the USC facilities nor officially find out on blackboard his homework assignments because he's been "kicked out" by the graduate school. The business school is accomodating him because they know his school will eventually pay the bill (or we hope so!!!), but they can't do anything about the graduate school's official policies when fees have not been paid by the set date. I'm stressed about this and want them to pay for it...but hey, it's the season for VACATION in France, so his school is shut down for two weeks. Woohoo! What else am I worried about? Oh yes, when I thought that Clemson U had pretty much turned me down, I received a surprise phone call and email that let me know I was still on the consideration list. Holy fuck. But no, they still haven't let me know one way or the other. So! I don't know if I have to prepare for another full year at Tech or prepare for all new classes at Clemson. I don't know if I'll have health ins. through Clemson or I'll have to wait until Alex and I marry to get it through USC's student health ins. policy. Well, after he's officially enrolled, that is. Oh, there are more stressors, but that sampling is enough to give you an idea of what's on my mind.

Alex's new place does not have a washer and dryer, so that sucks. It is one bedroom, and small, but it is nice enough for him to enjoy. It's close to the school, and all of us can fit when we're down visiting. We just need to get moved into that place and then I need to clean up this apartment before we're done with the move. Then that'll be one stress gone, I suppose.

You can tell that I'm off balance this week because I'm low on patience and snappish. Pitty my children. I hate myself when I'm like that, but other than copious alcohol intake, I don't have a clue on how to make myself be nice!

****

Overheard while I was in the bathroom...

The kids walked by the bathroom yesterday morning while I was in it. I heard Ariana say, "Well, it's what Alex calls mom all the time. It's THAT word." Five year old Jared's response: "Sexy? You mean it's sexy?" I laughed so hard that I couldn't find out what word Ari was actually looking for! Haha!

****

And on the "my god it's a miracle" front...guess what me, my ex, Alex, and the kids did this last Saturday? We all went swimming at a local lake for a few hours and had a great time! I shit you not. It went smoothly. The kids were SO happy to see their daddies getting along, too. My mom thinks it's wierd that the new trend in divorce is to have the new families be nice to each other and do things together. She told me that there's something wrong with that. Excuse me? My kids were relaxed and relieved to see us all getting along, joking, and having a good time. Were Alex and I a bit tense before going due to the whole "my ex husband is there" thing? Sure. But it went great, and we just might do it again because it obviously meant so much to Ariana in particular. Well, provided that my ex can cope with the marriage after it becomes official. That one may just take time.

I found out exactly how lazy I am these days, though. I did fourteen trips across an inlet about the size of the inlet on my lake that I grew up on. When I was a teen and swam a lot, that would have been NOTHING. NOTHING, do you hear me? This time, the day afterwards, it was paralysis. Every muscle cursed my name and called me bitch. I wish I lived on the lake though. I swear I'd swim every day with the kids over the summer, and I'd be fit! Swimming isn't exercise to me; swimming is fun. That's the only way to get me to exercise...call it fun and have me believe it.

The Grandparents I Never Knew

2006-07-21T11:51:00.000-07:00

My mom's parents both died within a year of each other, right after she married and then gave birth to my sister (yes, my sister was born nine months and two weeks after the honeymoon...and yes, relatives were counting the days suspiciously...haha!). None of us kids got to know them. My sister was held by my grandmother, and so was my brother Ken (Ken came exactly 9 months after Rose was weaned at 6 months. Yes, I told you guys I came from a Catholic family!). However, when my brother Ken was around 10 months old, my grandmother died too. Then a year later my great-grandmother--who had lived with my mom in their house for her whole unmarried life--also died. It was a rough three years for my mom.

My dad's parents were wonderful to us children, so in my youth I only pondered once in a while what my mom's parents must have been like. I mean, I HAD a great set of grandparents, so it was ok that I lacked the other set, right? But as I grew older, I began to wonder. My mom rarely brought up her family life, so I had to pry whenever I had the chance. The portrait I eventually could sketch from her details facinated me. I feel cheated for having never known them. It feels wierd to find out small scraps about them each year, doled out like sweets after dinner to small children, never knowing if I know all I could know or not. What I do know, though, makes me wonder why I struggle so much with foreign languages when apparently it was in my blood to be at ease with them!

My mom's dad came from Hungary, a disputed area that once was part of Romania. He was a non-practicing Jew, and his arrival over in the US was sudden and unexpected due to an altercation with a Jew-hating professor at his medical school pre WWII. Now THAT story is a blog entry on its own! I will give you the short version: he had to leave the next day. Or else. He grabbed a cousin and they fled together, arriving here with little more than the shirts on their backs. A smooth talking man, he actually persuaded a medical school to let him in with NO academic records. He couldn't obtain them since the altercation with the professor led to his accidental death (told ya that one was a blog entry on its own!), and so the school would never let him have the records. He was a wanted man. I can't imagine what that was like for my grandfather, but in the end since every last one of his close relatives in Hungary were sent off and gassed during the war, I suppose he thought it was fortunate in the end that he was forced to come here and start over.

My grandfather apparently spoke five languages fluently: English, Hungarian, French, Italian, and Spanish. He also spoke three others passingly well. This skill alone was helpful as he was a surgeon in Chicago, a city with a diverse enough population that his language skills were essential. Apparently, I inherited the ability to talk somebody into something they don't want to do...and the mercurial temper...from my grandfather. He was very good natured until you pissed him off. Then he was scary. Yes, my personality definitely has its roots in that man!

My grandmother was Mexican. She came from a wealthy family who was about to lose it all due to the Mexican revolution. My mom says they had an indoor pool, and that was in the 1910's. They were told silly tales about America like how the streets were paved with gold and there were gems along the street they could pick up. So, they gave away all their fine china and other items to the servants and fled. Upon arrival, my great-grandfather greeted my great-grandmother and grandmother at the trainstation in rags. The additional shock? They arrived in Texas and were greeted to the sight of bathrooms labeled, "Whites" and "Colored and Mexicans". Texas was not friendly to them, so they ended up in Chicago...where she met my grandfather eventually. My grandmother was a nurse; my grandfather was a surgeon. It's obvious how they met then, eh?

Now, for many years I knew that my mom and her brother spoke Spanish before they spoke English because Spanish was the language of their household. My great-grandmother ONLY spoke Spanish and she lived with my grandparents, so they predominantly spoke Spanish there. My mom quickly picked up English too, and no one would ever hear an accent on her. Apparently, my grandmother was a bit quirky...so I know where I got that from too! My grandfather hunted, and he hung up a nice buck's head with many pointed antlers on the wall. Grandma apparently thought it would look better with Christmas lights strung on it, and she refused to take them down. She just...lit it up all year round. Whenever my grandfather and my grandmother got into a fight, my grandfather would bring my grandmother watercress. Apparently, she LOVED fresh watercress. That makes me laugh: the image of a sheepish, jet black haired Hungarian man coming in with a bunch of watercress in his hand instead of the traditional flowers. It made my grandmother laugh, and then all was usually better.

These details are what flesh out my background, but just a few weeks ago I learned something else that made me pause and wonder, what ELSE don't I know? My grandmother spoke fluent French and was a Francophile. My mom was teasing me that it must be through my grandma that I decided to fall in love with a Frenchman, and I had no idea what she was talking about. Hell, my grandma used to belong to some special French society in Chicago and frequently entertained the French ambassador! Wow!

That made me have a crazy image too...my grandparents fighting in three different languages, and that necessitating an even larger bunch of watercress to fix it all...

I wish I had known them. All I have left are these stories. I am lucky enough to have my other grandparents--they loved me endlessly--but I am greedy. To know my mom's parents would have been wonderful. But I guess I'll just keep badgering my mom for more information instead..that's the only way to see them...

Language

2006-07-17T07:38:00.000-07:00

So, we're sitting in a restaurant the other week with Alex and his work folks. They threw him a good bye party because he's now in school at USC and no longer at his internship any more. We got to talking about French and how Alex has tried to show the kids a few words and phrases in French. So, my son feels that it is now time to contribute to the conversation. He tells us that he remembers two words in French! Oh really? I ask. Which two do you remember!

"Eau and merde!" he says proudly.

I laughed my ass off. My five-year-old is fully capable of asking for water or screaming out SHIT! in French. What more did I ever want out of life?

****

My dad is from Kentucky, Louisville to be precise. His uncle was a bookie when my dad was a teen. The uncle constantly was trying to convince my dad he should be a jockey because of his height (or lack thereof). At 5'6", he probably was indeed the right size to be one. I suppose that's why he sent me this joke...

THE PROBLEM WITH HIGH URINALS.....

A group of Kentucky second, third, and fourth graders, accompanied
by two female teachers, went on a field trip to Churchill Downs, the
famous Louisville race track, to see and learn about thoroughbred
horses.

When it was time to take the children to the bathroom, it was
decided that the girls would go with one teacher and the boys would
go with the other. The teacher assigned to the boys was waiting
outside the men's room when one of the boys came out and told her
that none of them could reach the urinal. Having no choice, she went
inside, helped the boys with their pants, and began hoisting the boys
up, one by one, holding onto their "wee-wees" to direct the flow away
from their clothes.

As she lifted one, she couldn't help but notice that he was
unusually well endowed. Trying not to show that she was staring, the
teacher said, "You must be in the fourth grade."

HE REPLIED: "No, ma'am, I'm riding Silver Arrow in the 7th race
today.

****

And the last language issue today...male vs. female communication.

Remember how I told you that my son is so precise with his language? He is a creature of logic on so many issues, even when you throw his heart into the matter. My daughter, however, has a different approach. My children actually had a fight in the car today because of just these differences.

See, my daughter started saying how I was the best mom in the world. Then she expanded it to state that I was the best mom in the universe. My son denied that this idea had merit. My daughter started screaming at him that he couldn't love me so much if he could say such a thing. That, of course, upset my son. See, my son is the ultimate momma's boy. If you ask him who his favorite person is, he says, MOMMY! If you ask him who his second favorite person is, he'll say, "There's no one but MOMMY!" (sometimes he'll respond "Kate!"--Alex's sister--and then grin at Ariana like the devil knowing that answer would piss her off. She's ok with being second to me, but she's not going to be third on her brother's list!). My son often tells me he wants to be with me for the rest of his life and that nobody is more important to him than me. That if he had just one person in the world near him, it would be ME. I don't feel a lack of love there. I feel rather secure, in fact. So, I felt that Mr. Science Brain had a much more logical reason for why he couldn't say that I was the best mommy in the universe. Suddenly, as Ariana is sobbing, he explains:

"Well, she's the best mom in our family for sure, and I don't know of a better mommy, but I don't know all the mommies in the universe. Chances are good that some mommy somewhere might be greater even if piles are not as good."

See? Logic.

Ariana rejected that idea. "NO! You can't love her if you say that. If you don't KNOW of any other mommy better than her, she's the best mommy in the universe!"

I just tried to drive the damn car and stay out of it. But there you go...difference in approaches. The end result was that they were both upset, too. Jared was upset that Ariana accused him of not loving his mother. Ariana was upset that he wouldn't just say that I was the best mommy anywhere, thinking--truly--that it meant that her brother didn't love me "enough." I tried to tell them both that I knew they both loved me and I was ok with how they expressed it, but they ignored me. Woohoo! And they aren't even teens yet! But the good news is...if they learn from each other...when they reach dating age, at least they'll understand how the opposite sex typically communicates.

Figuring Out What To Do

2006-07-11T18:38:00.000-07:00

So, I don't even want to detail the daily ways Alex's French school is trying to wriggle out of paying his tuition bill at USC. It's giving me more stomach pains. Alex keeps soothing me and reassuring me that it'll all work out, so I just have to trust him and try to calm down. Still, it's upsetting. It's like we can't rest for a second and think it's all finally taken care of and just move on!

We had originally planned on having a wedding in France in June of 2007. Now it turns out that he's going to be in school until August of 2007, and then I have to start up teaching for the fall term (I assume), so that won't work. Neither of us want to wait until December of 2007 for the final vows, yet if we were to do them in France, it seems that's the soonest date. What to do?

So, other issues on the table: it appears I will go another year without health insurance...however, if we marry now, we can get insurance for me through the student health insurance. Damn do I need it. Also: then he can get a green card and work for his former boss while he's also in school. Double bonus. Bigger tax refund next March too...triple bonus. My mom will finally let us sleep in the same bed when we're visiting. Quadruple bonus! So, should we marry now and do a nice ceremony with friends and family later on? It seems the practical thing to do...just not the romantic thing to do.

So, maybe we should get the legal part done now for practical reasons, then do the ceremony in Dec. of 2007 in France. Ug, my head!

Regardless, I think that this weekend we'll go ahead and get sized for wedding rings and purchase them. Might as well. We'll need them no matter WHEN we get married, right?

My stomach just knotted up again. You know, there's no man more perfect for me than Alex, but after seeing marriage #1 explode (and thinking that one would last forever), I'm just nervous as SHIT about getting married again. Please tell me that makes sense. I mean, even knowing Alex is so fantastic, please tell me you at least understand why I'm jittery about getting married again. He has no worries. The sooner, the better...that's one happy man...haha! But me? Oh man. I know it will work or I'd not do it. But then again, that's how I felt last time. Ok, but last time, my family and friends could point out a few things of note about my ex. This time, I have asked all of them to point out to me what's wrong, and nobody can point out anything. So, I need to just relax. THIS was the man I was meant to be with. And it will be fine.

So, who wants to go to France in December of 2007 for a party, eh? :) (Grant: I know, I know, you won't go anywhere that Americans are hated like Iraq, France, or Hollywood...you already told me! haha!)

Precision in Language

2006-07-08T16:29:00.000-07:00

Ok, I had to post because otherwise, Tim would have interrupted things here by calling in the police...Alex is fine, back from France with gifts, and has completed his first week of classes at the International MBA program here. My left wrist has been injured. There's something about the left side of my body that gets injured more easily during certain...uh, activities. I don't know what the hell is up with that. But, anyway, it's been a nice couple of days.

Yesterday, my son did something that he's done all his life since he could speak, but regardless, it still cracks me up. He is very, very precise with his language. You must be careful with how you word things or he'll either fuss or not do what you had in mind. It's not amazing to me that he's like that...it's amazing to me that he's been like that since he was three. The first incident that I can remember offhand was when he had just turned three and was busy lining up his trains, one after the other. My mom walked over and admired his construct, telling him it was one heck of a big train. My son then looked up at my mom, blinked, and replied, "It's not a BIG train...it's a LONG train." Well, uh, yeah, I guess that's the more accurate word. He also gets that way with footwear. Heaven forbid you call his sandals shoes, or his boots shoes. Or flip-flops anything other than flip-flops. Sheesh! If there's a specific word for it, we MUST use it, eh?

Yesterday's incident amused me as well. Alex had accidentally punched the wrong button on a coke machine and received a diet cherry coke instead. He brought it home to me since he knew I like cherry coke (but I don't like the diet one...brrr!). He also has a 12 pack of coca colas in the refrigerator, labeled as such. So, we are sitting down talking, and Alex asks Jared if he'd fetch a coke. Jared, happy to help, bounds off and returns with the diet cherry coke. Alex looks perplexed. "I said I wanted a coke?" he asked, at that point uncertain as for what he had said. Jared nodded. "This one says coke. The others are coca colas. You didn't say you wanted a coca cola...you said COKE." I just laughed. I couldn't help it. He's making me, English instructor, be more mindful of my words. Haha!

Ok, and on another note wherein you probably don't care, but it meant a lot to me front: I went to the gourmet shop here across from Alex's apartment with Ariana in tow. She is very curious about a lot of wine stuff, so we were walking around and looking at their expensive wine and discussing various things. I ran across a very specific Chateauneauf du pape from a stellar producer that had been reduced half off, leaving it at $27 and at that price, honestly, a great bargain. So why was the price so cheap? I looked at the bottle and my mind instantly said, southern Rhone wine, 2002, VERY crap vintage...not worth even $27. It surprised me I remembered vintages of the Rhone offhand, but then I remembered I had looked them up to give Alex suggestions on years for the Cotie Rotie I wanted when he was in France. So, I walked up to the wine guy and asked him why the wine was reduced. I asked him if it had to do with the bad vintage year for the Rhone. He said he didn't know but he thought it was due to needing more shelf space. Then he went to ask his boss, came back, started to say something about needing more room for the superior 2003 vintage...saw the look in my eyes, and then sighed. And laughed. "Oh who am I kidding? You're right. It's an awful vintage, and we're depending on ignorant people to buy it because of the name of the producer. But, since that is not you, since you actually know wine, I'll just go ahead and put it back." I was pleased that my hobby is coming together in my brain so much. However, I was even more pleased to see the pride on my daughter's face. Come on...what mom doesn't want her children to think she's smart and great and all? I grinned for the rest of the day.

Ok, dinner time! We just got back from seeing Pirates of the Carribean 2. I liked it, but darn do I hate cliffhanger type movies. Bah!

Happy Fourth of July, Folks!

2006-07-04T09:44:00.000-07:00

Hope you're all having a good day! If you're really lucky, you're spending it with family, too (unless you are Grant...he is excused from ever wanting any member of his family around him at any time). The best celebrations involve food, too, and lots of it! I always think that's the best way to show love: food. Oh yeah! That's how I know Amanda loves me, for instance. Any person who places half a cheesecake in front of me for breakfast, dumps strawberries on it, and expects me to eat it all MUST love me...haha! That's also how I know Grant loves me. Well, ok, so it's more of a "feck off with love" thing since it's Grant we're talking about. Still! He ordered food with me in mind and then let me have some of his meal. Ahhhh! I wish I could do a picnic with the kids today, but they are with their father. So, I have good wine and good cheese for myself today to savor while I read, write, and clean.

Alex has arrived back in America, safe and sound. He just called me from the NYC airport. He has a layover and then will be back this evening to SC. I'm so happy to have him back. Just having him around negates so much anxiety for me. It's hard to explain, but it is true. I know he's a real partner in this relationship, so that any problem that crops up he'll take at least half of it to solve for us on his own. So, bad things can happen and they just aren't so bad. It used to be that I was responsible for all the worry and all the problem solving. I can't tell you how great it is to NOT be the sole adult in the house anymore.

Ok, last night I was introduced to a term I have never heard of before in my life: Gayborhood. I could NOT stop laughing. I can see the point of labeling it as such. At least if you're gay, you'll know that folks there won't be making your life a living hell. Still! All I could think about at that point was Mr. Rogers...

It's a beautiful day in this Gayborhood
A beautiful day for a Gaybor
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

Oh, man, that's so fantastic. Do they have people with good gaydar at the entrance to this exclusive and gated community to determine if you had it in you to be an exemplary Gaybor? I love it! This is great. My own neighborhood seems so bland and lifeless now.

Messed Up

2006-07-01T06:03:00.000-07:00

I apparently have comments on the previous post, but I can't access any of them for some reason. Well, except Cookie's comment...that's the only one that displays for me. I don't know WHAT happened. Oh well. Blogger's free. You get what you pay for! (EDIT: after putting up this post, the comments opened back up normally on the other post. Strange....)

Alex is still in France, and he will be returning on Tuesday. I spoke to him on the phone last night, and I couldn't stop laughing because Alex has become an American. The first thing he did was complain that his feet hurt from walking so much. That's EXACTLY how I felt when I went over to France the first time. We had no car, but that was pretty much the status quo. There was a bus one could take and a train. Clermont-Ferrand, although by no means a small place, was not quite big enough for a subway system. Still, nearly everything was in walking distance anyway (or biking distance), so it wasn't so bad. The main problem was that I, American Girl, was used to sitting on my ass. My main bit of walking was from a chair inside my apartment to the seat in the car. Alex ended up massaging my calf muscles on my legs a lot because after all that walking, they just cramped up in protest constantly. Alex bikes to and from work here in America, but work is pretty close. He then sometimes walks to the grocery store...which is right next door to his apartment building. So, he's lost his walking capacity.

In France, most residences don't have air conditioning. In the summertime, this is a miserable situation. It gets as hot in Clermont-Ferrand as it does in the South here in America. Sure, a lot of the commercial buildings have air conditioning, but you can't sleep there. And sleeping in a pool of sweat isn't fun, especially after your body has gotten used to climate control within your domicile. So, Alex made a few comments about the heat, sweat, chafing, and wanting his air conditioning back.

The last complaint he had caught me by surprise. He has gotten used to dumping ice in all of his drinks, especially in the hot summer months. Sure, he still wants his hot tea (and has a couple every day), but he really loves to have his coca colas loaded up with ice in a glass. So, he was lamenting the lack of an icemaker in the freezer at his place in France.

I know that the English and the French both don't use ice really, nor does most of Europe. When I visit friends in England, they usually buy a little bag of ice for me to keep in the freezer so I'm happy. When I visit France, I use an ice tray and keep some in Alex's freezer. I have found that I like ice in my drinks all year around as I'm just used to having them that way. I wonder if the Aussies do ice or don't do ice? Hmmmm. Hopefully Jezzy, Fatty, or any of the other Aussies who stop by can answer that one for me because I'm curious.

I AM relieved that he has brought up things he missed in America besides me and the kids. It makes me feel less guilty that he is giving up his country for me. It's funny to me because the last time I came back from France, I was lamenting myself the lack of good cheese, some of the French wines I had grown to love over there, and the lack of a good baguette. In fact, my daughter--who has heard me bitch about how Americans can't make a good baguette--asks me when we're at the grocery store, "Momma, are we going to get a fake baguette today?" Haha! I am very aware of the faults that France has, but like America...it has so much good in it, so much that makes it unique and special to me, that I love the country. I am now finding out that Alex feels that way about America too. I still wish we could live over there for a few years so that the children could experience Europe and learn French. But it makes me happy to think that Alex really DOES see what we have to offer here (like the school he attends over here, which he loves) and likes it.

I can't wait until he comes back home. I miss him. Plus, I can't wait to get the load of goodies he'll bring me :) I asked for a decent Cote Rotie. I told him to get a 2003 or a 1999...the 2003 is likely cheaper, but we'd just have to sit on it a few years before it was at a good drinking stage. 1999 could probably be consumed now, but is likely a bit pricy. I can't find too many Cote Rotie over here (Northern Rhone wine, for those of you who wondered). I also want to try a Tavel Rose, which I can't find in SC for some reason. That's the main rose of the Rhone region. I'm getting chocolate too! And a few of these little jarred sauces I love. Woohoo! Yes, I can't go to France with him this time, so he's bringing back France to me. That works!

I'm Back, I'm Better than Ever, and I Have a Chainsaw!

2006-06-30T01:59:00.000-07:00

Ok, never mind. I don't have a chainsaw.

After a long haul back up from Tampa to the upstate of SC, here we are! The kids are asleep right now and my cat is begging for food. It's 5a, and for some reason I fell asleep but then woke up and can't get back asleep. Oh well.

I remember a while back that NWJR mentioned how people set up paypal buttons or donation things all the time on their sites. Although he directed his readers towards a more worthy place to donate online, I, however, am shooting for unworthy. After two very long trips in the car with no cd/radio/clock working--and having no music to listen to and no way of telling the time--I think I'll set one up so random strangers can buy me a new one. No? You don't think it will work? Rats! Oh well. I guess I'll have to buy a watch and continue to sing random songs in the car. Still, I never realized how much of a spoiling thing it was to have a clock/radio in the car until mine died. I never owned a car wherein the music source died before. This is a new one on me. I've already made several trips to Columbia with the broken thing, but two hours vs. eleven hours in the car with no music/clock is QUITE a difference.

Next chaotic thought: Alex is in France eating fantastic cheese, chocolate, and bread, plus drinking great French wine. This is not fair. I should be there with him *throws tantrum on floor*. Oh well. We've had a rough couple of weeks, folks, and it's too long of a story to duplicate, but let's just say that it was only at the very last minute that he was given his I-20 so he could have his student visa to start up school next Wednesday, and for a while there was a real and present danger that he was NOT going to be able to continue at USC this year. My stomach lining is gone. I'm not being dramatic there...something really IS messed up there because whenever I've been stressed the last couple of weeks, I get really bad stomach pains. Pepto bismal is my friend. Nasty tasting shit, though. Oh well. Once he returns to the states and he does so alive next Tuesday, I'll be able to calm down...well, unless it's actually an ulcer. My mom, cheerful woman that she is, suggested strongly that I might have one. NO. I refuse. I know at least that ulcers are curable with an antibiotic, but whenever I'm placed on an antibiotic, I have a bad reaction to it. So, no. That's not what it is. I am plugging my ears. I cannot hear you. La la la la la!

Next chaotic switch: I have a nasty carpet burn. I am a very bad liar. These two thoughts are related, I swear. See, my mom does NOT want to know anything at all about my sex life with Alex because she would like to pretend that we're not having sex until we're married. Being engaged hasn't changed her opinion on that one at all; she just prefers to pretend and live in her happy Catholic world wherein all are virgins until marriage (a hard one for me to fake at this point with two children, you know?). I try not to destroy her reality at all. But, this vacation she kept asking me where I got this horrible wound from, and I kept evading...poorly. I couldn't even begin to think of a lie that would work, and even if I did, well, one of the main reasons I don't lie is that I'm crap at it. Nobody would believe me. I LIVE all my emotions out on my face! I just don't think she wants to hear, "Oh I received both my carpet burns...one is just not as bad as the other, you see...from wild dog sex on the carpet in front of the TV at Alex's place. Don't worry. The kids weren't there to see it." No, no, no. I am certain she doesn't want this answer. But now that I'm home, I don't have to answer that question anymore. Whew!

So, what's on the agenda this weekend? The ex gets the kids, so I'm going to do the following: drink alcohol with Chuck, eat good food, read books, write more (I can't believe I'm writing steadily right now...how the hell did that happen?), sleep more, and um....ok, more wine. Yeah. I'll miss sitting down and watching Emeril Live with Ariana tonight. We've developed that into a ritual over the last few weeks. I rarely turn on the TV as I prefer the computer, but she likes to watch TV with me because we can snuggle and talk about the show together. She figured I couldn't resist this one...smart girl! Usually she asks me to replicate whatever dessert he's making, but she has no interest in trying the OTHER foods. I still have as a goal in my life to eat at every Emeril's restaurant out there. The closest one to me is in Atlanta, and ironically that's not one of the ones I've eaten at so far. Still! It's next on the list!

All right, I think I'll try and get some sleep now. Let's hope it works. First I'd better feed this cat or he won't let me try to sleep....

Just Checkin' In

2006-06-25T12:34:00.000-07:00

In entertainment news, Mickey Roarke suddenly declined to reprise his role as Marv, causing studios to scramble for a hasty replacement.

(Ok, sorry, Grant made me do that! haha!)

That picture is my dear Ariana in Grant's coat. She thought it was so ultimately cool that she had to try it on too. It's twice as big and twice as heavy as she is, for the record!

On the way down to Tampa, we stopped and saw Grant in Atlanta. He always talks and talks and talks about a specific Japanese restaurant on his blog all the time. It appears that he actually lives there. Well, he took us there and I have to say...it's all he claims it is! I had some of the better sushi I've ever had there, and truly, it was a bargain price-wise too. I loved meeting him, and Alex and I will definitely return sometime to pester him in the future. In fact, I think that's why he let us escape his lair this time: he's lulling us into a false sense of complacency so that we will be unsuspecting when we next visit! It's partially his fault we were late when we arrived in Tampa. I didn't want to stop talking to him, and the kids and the cat were playing happily in his bachelor pad. The other part of the reason we arrived late was IT WAS FRICKIN' ATLANTA! My god. Accidents on I-75 kept us going at less than 5 mph for way too long, adding on a chunk of time to the journey. I thought we would get there between 9 and 10p; we ended up arriving at 1130p. Oh well. We surivived!

I've had lots of good food so far, and I was happy to hang out with Lee, Rob, and Madella yesterday while mom and dad did grandparent things with the kids. Yes, we miss Alex, but we're still having a great time! Another reason to love Lee: she referenced me as "skinny" once yesterday. Aw hell I'm not, but I love her for saying it :) haha!

One of the things that is sort of brooding on my mind now is a situation that I don't remember creating nor desiring. What do you do when every one of your high school buddies is aware--way more than you are--that a mutual friend STILL has something for you and still carries something for you in his heart? He's married, he has children, but his wife still feels threatened by me...and something I have never noticed (HAH! Remember, I only notice if a man is hitting on me or interested if he strips nude and gyrates on my hips asking me to do him)...he apparently reacts strongly to my presence. I was sitting there protesting to them and saying I didn't DO anything to encourage that, and they all reassured me that they knew it was fact, but...still the situation exists. When I pointed out how happy I am with Alex, and that alone should make the wife not feel threatened, I was told the obvious that my dumb head didn't understand: what woman wants to share space in her husband's heart with another woman? Ok, yeah, I guess so. Sigh.

I don't want you to think I have low self-esteem. I don't. I think I'm pretty ok. However, I do NOT understand how a guy can be interested in me for so long. All right, I'm cool. But I'm not THAT great! Why on Earth would a guy still find me interesting after really getting to know me like that and knowing me for decades? I'm a pain in the ass! I just happen to be the RIGHT type of pain in the ass to make Alex happy is all...haha!

Lee's coming over for dinner and she's bought my favorite Gigondas in the whole wide world for us to drink. I can't wait! Lee also wants to take me to a sushi restaurant this week, and I think I'll be eating at one when I get back and have dinner with Chuck. It's probably the most sushi I've had in this short of a time, but I could honestly eat it every day, so that's fine! We have plans to go to the beach with the kids one day too, and mom wants to take me shopping. Translation: mom thinks my wardrobe is sadly lacking and wants to purchase stuff for me. Who am I to stop her?

Ok, so to finish things off, here's a couple of lines somebody sent me in an email today:

Embarrassing my children: just one more service I offer.

I'm not fluent in idiot, so speak slowly and clearly.

My parents said I could be anything I wanted, so I became an asshole.

Rehab is for quitters!

I'm not an alcoholic; I'm a drunk! Alcoholics go to meetings.

...aaaand now I'm off to snack on some of this great dip my mom made. I get my love of food from her. She's always making something yummy. This is a great vacation!

Going to Florida!

2006-06-21T07:37:00.000-07:00

Well, tomorrow I head off to Tampa for a week. I'm driving down with two kids and a cat in my car. Pity me. However, once I arrive, I will be planted firmly in the Land of Spoiled Rotten, so that will rock! My mom will end up making a lot of my childhood favorite foods (she's a fantastic cook), my dad will end up paying for stuff that I need, and the kids will get to do things like go to the beach while having a set of extra adults to entertain them so it actually feels like a pleasant trip for me too. Alex won't be coming along because he has to leave to go to France to get his visa restamped. We didn't want him to go to France right now due to the expense, but even though he has a student visa that is good until 2009, he has to LEAVE THE COUNTRY and then re-enter from France to get his old internship visa off and his student visa re-stamped. No, he can't simply go down to some gov't agency with all the right paperwork here and SAVE $1300 by not having to go to France! Oh no. No no no. THAT WOULD MAKE SENSE! He must fly out and fly back in. Well, since he has to go back anyway, he might as well stay a week and visit family and friends...get a few things straight with his school and with the wedding...and purchase wine and chocolates for me :P I wish we could all go with him, but that was not in the cards (the cards are actually my bank account, you see).

I was born and raised in Tampa. I spent the first 17 yrs of my life there before I headed off to NC to go to Duke. I used to live in a suburb that was very nice and on the outskirts of town; now it's part of town. Tampa is SO much bigger now than it was when I was a child. We used to live on Lake Carroll, and I was raised swimming, boating, and waterskiing my summers away. There was always something soothing about waking up and seeing the lake look like a smooth mirror, not a ripple anywhere as it was too early for anybody but maybe a fisherman out on a small boat somewhere on the lake. My brother Mark taught me how to fish, and I used to go fishing on that lake for largemouth bass all the time. He also taught me how to clean his fish, and I often got suckered into cleaning his catch. I have fond memories of my childhood house, too.

The house I was raised in was one of the most unique houses you will ever see, both inside and out. The architect who built our house was a new guy who impressed my dad. My dad, in a rare moment of creativity, told him, well, we have three kids...we're going to have one more...and I want a place to stick my office desk. Go for it. The fellow sure did go for it, and what he created was something very unique for the late 60's. In fact, the house ended up being photographed for a national magazine and the fellow ended up designing part of the Tampa Airport and the governor's house. He was so talented! He ended up living a couple of blocks away from our house, and I used to ride my bike past his house all the time. It was done in that same very unique, modern style that he did so well. I wish I had a scanner so I could put up a picture of my house so you could see what I meant! Anyway, I always tease my family that the reason why I'm so different from them is...THAT HOUSE! It corrupted my soul with its uniqueness :) I miss that old house. My parents sold it my freshman year. It was a big house meant to raise four children, and with me--the youngest--going off to college, they wanted to get a townhouse which would be so much easier to take care of and much smaller. They're still in that townhouse, and that's where we'll stay when we are down there.

Some of the things I remember about childhood have now come to South Carolina. For instance, Publix is a Florida based grocery store chain. When I first went to graduate school at USC in Columbia, there weren't any Publixes there. A year or two later, the first one appeared. When I moved to Greenville, the first Publix opened up there the month after I arrived. Now there are tons of Publixes around here, and I for one am glad because I love that place. Many items and stores I once could only find in Tampa are now available up here, much to my delight. However, there is one thing that Florida has that SC does not have right now:

A real Cuban sandwich.

A real Cuban sandwich has pulled pork on it...oh yummmmm. I'm going to gorge on good Cubano food while I'm there. I love fried plantains too. Well, ok, I haven't ever tried Cuban food I didn't like, so you can assume I'll keep eating until I am about to burst!

It'll be fun to see some of my friends again, too. Mom and dad have already invited Lee over to the house for dinner one night as they view her as another child in some ways. Lee and I used to hang out so much when I lived in Tampa that she might as well have been my sister. Hmmm. No wait. She treats me much better than my sister treats me. Ok, she's a sister PLUS. How's that? I had told Lee recently about how much I was enjoying reading up on wine, and that I was thinking if I kept reading and sharpened my palate, I could take the Certified Wine Educator test and maybe end up teaching folks about wine for a living one day. In typical Lee fashion, she responded:

You'd be awesome at that! You need to build up your tolerance for alcohol. What fun. I can be your drinking buddy!

I just chuckled when I read that. See, Lee is NOT an optimist. She is NOT one of those feel-good happy people who looks for the best in every situation. That's MY role in our relationship...haha! But when it comes to me, she can be genuinely happy for me, encouraging, and enthusiastic. It's moments like that when I realize how much I miss her. I know my friends up here would like her too, so maybe I should just force her to move up here!

Anyway, the kids are looking forward to the trip and so am I. The drive up and down will suck save for one detour we'll get to make, but the trip itself should be wonderful. OH! And as further incentive for Thursday night arrival, dad says if I'm a good girl and arrive around 9 or so, he'll have SAVED ME the last glass of the bottle they are opening up Thursday for his birthday...a '95 St. Julien Bordeaux that is worth more than I am. OH MAN! I can't wait!

(I have no idea if I'll blog at all while I'm down there. Now that dad got DSL, I think I probably will be on the net here and there, but I can't predict!)

Seeya, guys!

EDIT: ok, I have to say that, once again, Alex proves why we're cloning him! Haha! I just received a dozen roses and a note. WHY did he send me roses today? Because on today, four years ago, he met me for the very first time, just as friends back then. Thanks, sweetheart. You really ARE perfect for me...and more patient than any person should be, too!

Dreaming, Dreaming

2006-06-19T13:15:00.000-07:00

I find it ironic that ever since my sister had told me angrily that I had no original thoughts ever that all I've been doing is dreaming, dreaming, and dreaming some more. The snippets I remember are assembling into a story. I try and scribble down notes when I just wake up if I can recall the important parts, and everything is starting to come together. I haven't written fiction in a while. Believe me, nobody will laugh harder than me if I end up with a book out of all of this!

I guess I have a little bit of Angie disease. Angie disease is when somebody tells you that you CANNOT DO SOMETHING, and that makes you decide you're going to do it or die trying. I've noticed that she's mentioned several times in her life somebody critical telling her there's no way she can accomplish X or Y, and that just fuels her on to do it. I'm betting that later on it will be revealed that the REAL reason she passed statistics is that somebody told her she couldn't...haha! Anyway, I guess a part of me feels like saying "fuck you, thanks!" to that idea that I am not creative. My subconscious agrees anyway.

My dreams have always been a critical part of my life experience. I know some people never remember their dreams; some people remember their dreams only on occasion, but then the dreams don't make sense. Nearly all of my dreams have something important to them. Sometimes they are the proof that my mind is continuing to work on problems as I sleep. Sometimes I really believe I'm tapping into something outside of me. I have thought about elaborating on that one, but it's a rather personal thing for me. Believe me, if one of THOSE dreams end up being related to you, I'll tell you. They don't happen too often, but I am at least able to wake up and go, ah, yes, I need to pass that one on. The main way that my dreams seem to function for me is as a creative outlet. I distinctly remember since about 13 yrs of age having dreams that were definite tales, stories unfolding in front of my very eyes. I have even had pages turning as part of the dream: introduction, chapter 1, chapter 2, prologue...no, really, as the plot unfolded, each new section was that clearly separated out. I have notebooks full of scribbly notes on those stories, and some of them I've written out and shoved under my bed. Others still wait to be written. I may never get published, but I enjoy doing this for the sake of doing it when it happens, so it's ok.

I don't want to lie to you though. I HAVE had completely perplexing, wierd-ass dreams that seem to have no purpose (for instance, the Amanda Elf Machine dream I blogged about probably a year ago). It's not like everything I remember is either important or a story. However, I find that most nights I remember something...and most nights it is another piece of a puzzle in a bigger picture, either fiction or non-fiction.

I like my dreams. I like having dreams. It is my reminder that...how do I put this? I guess it's my reminder that I'm tied to something bigger and broader and more abstract than just this body. Yeah, ok, well...that made sense to me!

Yes, I Am Strange

2006-06-14T18:19:00.000-07:00

I never really worried in high school about what the other kids thought of me. I had good friends, and those who didn't bother to get to know me yet judged me could go to hell. I laughed, I had a great time, and that was all that mattered. However, because I loved geeky things and never tempered my behavior to suit peer pressure, I soon had a reputation as being the "freak" of the class. I really didn't mind.

My second semester, Freshman year, I started a new religion class. It was an all girls' Catholic school, you see, and every semester we had a new religion class. In this classroom, students had assigned seating. The teacher figured that would cut down on talking and notepassing.

I was sat next to a gal in the class, Michelle, who was one of the "popular" crowd. She was HORRIFIED--and I mean truly just horrified--to see that I was her assigned table partner. There were two kids to each little table, and there I was in all my freaky glory. I figured we'd just ignore each other and life would be fine. Oh no. Nope. That wasn't enough for Michelle.

As class started, she angrily started whispering to me about what a freak I was, how nobody in her right mind wanted to be anywhere near me, how nobody liked me because I was so strange, etc, etc. The damn bitch just wouldn't shut up. I suppose it bothered me for like, I dunno, five seconds. Then I grinned. Why? Because I can be 100% evil, that's why!

I started mooing under my breath. Softly. Just low enough so she could hear.

Michelle stared at me. She whispered at me, what the hell are you doing?

I'm a cow, Michelle, I whispered back. I'm a reincarnated cow. I have fond memories of chewing on my cud, in a green grassy field, and it was peace, and lovely. I wish I could go back...but since I can't, I just moo. Then I mooed more.

She started screaming, leaping out of her chair, and yelling, "YOU ARE A FREAK!!!"

The teacher scolded her. She got in trouble big time, and she got moved to her own little isolated island on the other end of the classroom. I, on the other hand, got my own table...SCORE! And I tried hard not to laugh to give it away. My friends thought it was hilarious.

I really DO believe that when one lives one's life as one feels one should, it all works out in the end. My junior year in high school, I was in another religion class and Michelle sat next to me (but in a separate seat...this classroom had single seat desks). The teacher said something, and I fired off some typically wild and crazy Kira idea, and the whole class laughed, Michelle included. Suddenly a note slid onto my desk as the teacher turned, shaking her head. I looked up at Michelle, curious. She just grinned at me, and the smile was genuine. Huh? I opened up the note. I think I still have it somewhere, actually. This is what it said:

Kira---you know what? You really ARE crazy, but I love you for it. You're great! Stay the way you are!

Oddly, after that point? We were friends. I made a few more friends out of the popular set too by the time my senior year rolled around. Not all of them...just some. Still, whenever I think that people are viewing me as plain nuts for doing whatever it is I am doing, I remind myself of this incident, and then remember: in the end, it usually turns out OK!