if you want her to hate you

Glimpsing the inner workings of parental minds is sometimes quite horrifying.

I grant all you parents who live it all day, everyday that I am not a parent. However, having taught students ranging from grades K-12 for over 8 years, I do feel somewhat qualified to know and understand the minds of young children.

Evenly applied, as much as possible, discipline is not cause to invoke anger in your progeny. Kids, of all ages, like structure. The younger they are the more they crave it, actually. Older kids need to be weened from it because they like it so much. Standing your ground, keeping your word, and following through are all sure fire ways to get your kids to love you, not hate you. Kids push because they want you to push back. If you don't when will they learn that there are limits to all things?

That's not giving you free reign to be a control freak or so strict that there is no room for fun or play. Letting your kids run you ragged is not going to ensure they love you. Sooner or later, everything they are or are not will be your fault. Learn to deal with that now so you won't have to feel hurt later.

My Family Has Talented Genes

Unfortunately, I didn't get any of them. Luckily, though, I get to stand close to artistic people and hope that their creative glow will shed some of its light on me.

Tonight, for instance, my parents and I attended my cousin's latest show. I love her work, not just because it is whimsical and fun, but because it demonstrates so clearly the value of being able to see more than is readily apparent.To my cousin, Tesi, a piece of rusted metal is an intricate piece of a new puzzle she is about to solve.

I haven't wished for a job, an income, so much as I did that evening. I would have loved to have bought just one piece, any piece. I have to admit that the chickens are my favorite. Though, the piece in the show that stole my heart was a snake with a WWII war helmet called, War Bites.

Take a look at her art gallery online, if you get a chance, though, it is best viewed in person.

ok

Who's reading and not commenting?

It's ok... you don't have to leave your name.

I read and comment on a fair amount of blogs where I don't leave my name.

In any case, thanks for reading...

trust me?

Is it stars in your eyes? Is it a trusting nature? Is it a blind eye to reality? I don't know. I had a tense exchange with a friend the other day that brought me back (again) to this trust thing. There were four of us, three not currently in a committed relationship, two divorced, one technically divorced (it's a long story) and my friend, who was expressing her desire to get married.

She said something about wanting to trust a person and marry him. I heard an accusation about not having trusted. Why is it our ears don't work when it comes to touchy subjects? She thought we would naturally belittle her desire to be involved in such an old-fashioned convention. This, no doubt, belies the cynicism and anger she has heard us express more than once.

I have been puzzling over my reaction to her words for the past few days. Trusting and knowing when to trust are issues I have been grappling with for the past few years, but I never understood the extent to which the issue had infiltrated my daily life. Clearly, some words have taken on new and twisted meanings to me. I don't consider myself anti-marriage, though I must admit I do cringe at the thought of giving yourself over whole-heartedly to someone else.

No one gets married imagining that their spouse is going to be a cheater. I am fairly sure that the cheaters are not thinking about how their destructive effect their cheating will have on your ability to trust other people or yourself again. I want to write a long and ranting piece on how dastardly and unfair those cheaters are, but my rational mind keeps reminding me that people mostly don't act with the consequences of their actions in their minds. It would almost be easier to deal with if it were some nefarious plot to keep people from believing in fairy tales. We'll reel them in and as soon as they let their defenses down, we'll cheat on them. I can see their grinch-like eyebrows arching as they imagine the intricacies of the plan.

No, unfortunately, like everything else in life, it is just not that easy.

There are always some seemingly rational reasons on their part to point at why they are behaving in this way. These reasons are never truly rational and they generally have nothing to do with the person being wronged. If you veer off on the path of trying to understand this behavior, you just get tangled in the "why couldn't I fix him" (I am sure it could just as easily be HER, but it's just not my experience) or "if I were a better person" or, the worst: "what did I do to provoke this?" You can also meander down the path of self-righteous revenge or even worse, the "I'll get show the next one before he has a chance."

In the end you only realize that regardless of how or why, the result is a lack of trust. Maybe you even feel like you will never be able to trust again. Sometimes this looks like its evil twin: actually afraid that you might be suckered again, you just close yourself off from any reason to trust. For those of us already suffering from various fears of abandonment, this is an easy excuse to construct the really high walls that are topped with broken glass or barbed wire.

This is what it feels like to me: angry and cynical on the outside, scared and alienated on the inside. Everyone sees the anger and cynicism and generally enjoy having an excuse to dump on you or just not like you. A few people see the fear and alienation.

I don't know where it all ends up. I don't know how to work it out of my system. Perhaps it has started to work itself out, maybe I am sweating it out slowly. Maybe I should spit more.

All I know is that the intense desire to run up to all couples and shake the women until they see that men can't be trusted has subsided. I am still too vulnerable to all relationship issues. I feel the glances, the sharp looks, the hurt feelings like burning on my skin. I still don't want to talk to women who are getting married for fear I will say very many mean things.

But, I do imagine love again. I am still not sure exactly what it looks like, but he will like everything about me even the parts that make him want to scream.

orbits and magnetic pull

I wish now that I had taken some serious science courses. At least one physics course. Is that the one that would explain how orbits work? Somehow, knowing the difference between igneous and sedimentary rock or the intricacies to creating dams are all superfluous bits of information.

From where does this new found need for science come?? Well, I need to find a job now. I have enjoyed my unemployment, perhaps a little too much, but it is time to bite the bullet and find a job. I look through job postings sites, friends send me great opportunites; there are so many jobs available. I download job descriptions by the dozen.

Everything seems like something I could do, but will I do it without getting sucked into obsessing about it. That's what I want, by the way, a job I don't care about. I am so over caring so much about what I do, as if it really mattered. There is no job in the world that can replace a real life. So there I am with stacks of job descriptions and tangled webs of emotions that lead to that dreaded obsession. I keep looking and looking, and I know that it is not about what kind of job at all.

What I need to do is figure out how to make the job orbit around me instead of having it be the center of my universe. I believe it really is in my control to change that orbit. But, I am pretty sure it has something to do with magnets, and I have a bunch of those tiny mighty magnets.

Just kidding. Actually, I know that is in my control to change this orbit thing...and since it really is just a metaphor or whatever, I also know that it doesn't have anything to do with magnets, no matter how cute or dangerous for small children that they might be.

It's a personal challenge to put myself in the center. A constant battle, actually. I imagine somehow if I can make myself useful that I will then feel accomplished, but I end up only feeling put upon. When in doubt, spending the time exercising, reading a book, taking a walk, or just musing quietly to myself are always the better ways for me to feel accomplished and fulfilled.

Finger Pointing

If I didn't think Rummey was such an evil asshole, I might even feel badly for him now. I mean, it seems obvious that he was the sacrificial lamb, at least from his behavior. No matter how much I hate him, I refuse to let him take the sole blame for the Iraq debacle. He is an odious war-monger, but you cannot be president and pretend that you don't have to take responsibility for your actions. So, no, it wasn't all old Donny's fault. As if it were really possible, Georgie once again lowers in my esteem. He's all swagger and joyfulness when he announces "mission accomplished" and he's super snippy now that there are so many willing to publicly say that invading Iraq was a mistake then and a mess now.

Well, I hope that the ACLU is triumphant in getting the right to sue Rumsfeld for torture. And as soon as Georgie is not president anymore, I hope they pursue similar actions against him. They got their chance to rule the world and they did a poor job of living up to the so-called democratic ideals they were pushing like bad crack to those poor folks in Iraq and Afghanistan while they were simultaneously trying to topple democratically elected governments in other countries. Donny and Georgie deserve all the lawsuits, recrimination and bad karma they can get. No need to point fingers at each other, you know what they say: point one at you and three back at yourself.

Update 12/10/06
I almost have to admire the spunk that Donny exhibits, one last trip to Iraq to see the troops?? Really, there seems to be no limit to the cheek. Are Donny or Georgie the center of the universe?? Pissing contests will surely ensue.

extreme fishbowl

When we need the world to be on our side, it is only natural to ask for help.

We welcome everyone in and give out every detail.

Prayer, thoughts, meditations.

We need them from all over the world, from every faith and belief.

When the worst happens, we want to mourn in private. Who could blame us? It makes perfect sense to circle the wagons, to have our real friends give us comfort.

But, what about our new friends? Where do we draw the line between voyeurism and care/interest?

Last night, one reporter could not control her emotions, her voice did not quaver, but the tears streamed down her face.

We didn't know you, but we cared about you. Certainly your family and friends now have a gaping hole in their lives. We lost a piece of our hearts as well.

Rest in peace Jim.

Light to Unite

For Worlds Aids Day...
Bristol Meyers will be donating $100,000 to the National Aids Fund.

28 Turkey Vultures

Growing up, whenever there were a bunch of birds on a wire, we said they were having a wedding. Like so many other sayings, old wives' tales you might say, I remember the saying and a face pops in my head, the one who I associate with the saying. The bird weddings belong to Licha. Lately, sometimes when I see the pigeons congregating near the grocery store, I worry more about the bird poop than I imagine the celebration.

In my memory, they are small birds. Sparrows, maybe. In any case, it wasn't a close examination of the birds, but the image of them congregating on the wire, sitting so close together, sometimes talking to each other. Small birds don't mind being close together. They seem used to close quarters. Maybe they even prefer them.

Large birds tend to be more solitary. Crows like to hang out together and talk loudly to eachother, but you don't usually see hawks and vultures sitting together. When I think of hawks, I see them hunting: either sitting high on poles and scanning or soaring high in wide circles. I have seen vultures up close, near highways. Of course, I have seen them circling in groups.

Today, I saw them sitting on a stretch of fence. Of course, there weren't as many of the vultures as I have seen of the little birds all at once either sitting on a wire or flying in close formation. Still, I counted 28. Some of them sitting quite close together, others two or three bird lengths away.
The vultures are so big when they sit close to the road, you can see their heads, make out their beaks, etc. These vultures were looking away from the road. Some had their wings out, catching the air. Big birds don't seem as friendly or interested in each other. At least these didn't, so I didn't get the picture of a wedding. But, I wondered, "What are 28 vultures doing sitting by the side of the road?"

What do 28 vultures sitting on a fence mean??

New Life

There is nothing like a baby... everything about babies is so remarkable. They smell so good; much better than new car smell that folks like so much. They have wonderfully squishy parts that beg to be chewed. Everything in their worlds is new. Every day they find some body part or piece of a body part that WORKS. Making a baby smile fills you with the love of the world. Wow, did I really do something to make this baby smile??
Even better are happy babies. There is no denying the importance of love and attention for babies. So lacking in defenses, so open to new experiences, as stated before, EVERYTHING is new to them, only a caretakers' love can protect them from the world.

Watching my friend with her new little one was fascinating. She was attentive to his every move, sound, thought or feeling. She had obviously been watching him so closely for the past 10 weeks, she could almost anticipate his next move. He knew her too...following the sound of her voice, allowing her heartbeat to calm his pain and soothe his momentary anguish. Clearly, she could solve any problem for him. Mother's love in all of its mythical glory. The bond, the love, the interconnectedness of their emotion. It's somewhat overwhelming, but still awe inspiring. He was the center of her universe and she his sun. That all encompassing love seemed to inure them both from all the evils in the world.

I couldn't help but wonder as I watched them, what if all children had this kind of attention? What kind of world would this be if everyone had experienced this kind of comfort, love and protection from birth? What troubles might we avoid if we were all assured of unconditional love?

buried treasure

I know I promised a map when I finally went in and back-posted...but, well, the reason I back-post is that I am sharing many emotions that are scary for me... so, I am not keeping that promise.

This is your hint that there are and will be some back posting ... dig and you will find

your treasure map comes with only this hint:
this lady of leisure has been on some bumpy rides since she joined the ranks of the happily unemployed living on a shoe-string

Stray and Meandering Thoughts/Feelings

Relief -- yesterday, I took the GRE. It took nearly all day to realize what it meant for it to be done: no more days full of studying math or finding ways to avoid studying math.

Stress -- it took me half the day to realize that I didn't need to plan anymore weeks or days of study. It took me half the day to realize that my scores were plenty good. That exceeding the goal you set for yourself was indeed not only good enough, rather it was better. Oh, and my stomach stopped complaining.

Remembering

There are many things in my life for which I have to be thankful. Today, though, my heart and mind are full of my Tia Jenny. I am thankful that she will not have one more painful minute. You see, she lost her battle with cancer last week.

I am thankful for a family that still believes in giving their parents the care, love and attention they were given. My cousins took turns over the past few years, staying with my Tia Jenny night and day. The pain and frustration of seeing their mother battle in agony is unimaginable, but they never wavered. It is a rare and special gift to even see that kind of dedication anymore. You can only imagine the love and care she gave her children by what is reflected back with this act.

I am forever grateful to my Tia Jenny for keeping track of all of our families. She was the family tree builder in many ways. Not only was she always trying to ferret out more information about her grandfather (my great-grandfather), she was forever bringing new generations and lost cousins into the fold. Her love of family and connections is incomparable in my mind to anyone else.

I have been filled with thoughts of her for several weeks after my mom described her last visit with her. It was too much for me to go and see her, again, in so much pain. I lack the strength her daughters have shown so faithfully. I said to myself, I will be there for her funeral, to see her in peace. But, unfortunately, I am not able to get down there on that day. It makes the mourning more difficult to be far away.

My Tia Jenny was a wonderful person who never deserved any of this horrible suffering. I am so pleased that she will not feel any more pain and I am so sad that she will no longer walk this earth with us. We are a poorer world without her and her love.

Rest in peace, Tia Jenny. I'll be home soon to visit you.

who says?

If you didn't catch the story on NPR yesterday morning on how history as it is written in history textbook has changed over time, take a moment to listen to it.

History, always presented as fact-based, like so many of the subjects students are taught in school are too often not viewed critically. It is important not only from the standpoint of the value of learning critical thinking skills. I have long believed that our children would do better to be taught skills and not "facts" or "content," but that's another post altogether.

Political views have long been part of the development of curricular tools such as textbooks. Thus, these tools must be viewed critically by both teachers and students in order to get the best out of them. But, even more importantly, the history of public education in this country is largely unknown.

We tout ourselves as the country that provides the most universal compulsory public education in the world. Well that may be true, we fail to mention that we took that step in an effort to "Americanize" immigrants who we feared would change our country too much if we didn't co-opt them. Not teach them, assimilate them. Hear that difference carefully. Public education was created to engender sheep-like mentality to droves of immigrants, at that time mostly Germanic and Nordic (not the ones we fear and hate so much now, we could really care less if they ever become "Americanized").

So, when we bemoan the fact that our children are so desperately uneducated/undereducated and can't achieve well on tests, as has been again in the news of late, let's remember that public education was never meant to educate. It puts the school boards in Pennsylvania and Kansas in a slightly different perspective. They are not as crazy as we may think. They realize and acknowledge that public school is for telling the people what you want them know and how you want them to know it. And, majority, not truth, rules.

If we want true educational reform, we need to realign our goals and think completely outside of the box in creating anew our tools, teaching methods and expectations. It will take bold changes that reflect a respect for investigation, critical thinking, exposition and meaningful exchange at a very early age and throughout the educational pipeline. That kind of educational reform won't be measured by tests where you mark the appropriate bubble. But the changes would be dramatic, and, incidentally, exactly what we need if we want to avoid the fall of the Roman Empire syndrome (another interesting story you might want to listen to from NPR this week).

A Million Bucks

Not truly sure why these thoughts have been rolling around my head; maybe just because I have time to consider life at a slower pace.

I probably could name that which is most important to me; that is, what I care about, but lately, it comes to me more in the form of things that don't matter to me.

If I had a million bucks, I would still not buy clothing at full price, though I might buy a pair of full price comfy shoes.

I would definitely not invest in make up or cosmetic surgery. And though I have been known to say that I don't color my hair because it's too much trouble and money to maintain, I don't believe I would color my hair even if I had two million bucks.

These are things that are just of no interest to me.

That is not to say that there aren't things that I wouldn't mind having...that I wouldn't mind having disposable income for going out to dinner or as many movies as I could squeeze into my schedule, etc. I just can't see myself buying a purse that cost in the hundreds or thousands of dollars.

There are just too many more things that are of interest to me and most of them don't have anything to do with vanity.

It has got me thinking, though I am not to the point of truly drawing conclusions.

Vanity. It strikes me as a terribly negative thing. And that is not to imply that I don't care what how I look or that I don't spend time brushing my hair or buying fancy potions. But the time and intensity that so many people, some of them people who I care for and admire, scares me.

Is that it is all about? I want to ask them, but I don't want to offend.

I can only imagine what they think about me.

It is probably true that I don't care much about appearance, mine that is, because I don't think it is my defining feature. That's a fancy way to say that I don't think I am gorgeous. I may be pretty, in my own way, but beauty has never defined me. So, I have little to lose, in my own mind, if I go out with no makeup or don't color my hair.

But, my lack of interest in vanity doesn't necessarily make me deep or transcendent. It might just make me ugly or shabby or rasquache, as my mother is wont to say.

What would I buy with a million bucks?? I haven't thought about it in a long time because the dream of winning the lottery has long passed for me.

I still dream of big, beautifully shabby, old houses. Victorian, preferably. Lately, to the dream, I have added a pomegranate tree. I would like some built in bookshelves and a porch swing (technically, I already have one if it is still in my friend's basement).

I am sure there are many other things I would want to buy with my million bucks, but those are the things that come to mind at the moment.

What's Next?

Recently, a friend asked if I what I had learned during my "sabbatical" so far. At the moment, I thought, NOTHING! Seeing as how three months into this time off, I feel no more closer to knowing what I want to do with my life than I did before I quit my job, and I still don't really know how to enjoy free time effectively. I mean, I am good at finding things to do. I am still a planner, despite my best efforts to be carefree. But, I am not really good at doing nothing. Though, I am getting better.

I determinedly searched my mind for something to say. I figured I had to have something to say for these months. I admitted to knowing some of what I didn't want to do. I could point to the fact that I enjoy the simple life I am living and would happily continue with this spartan existence if I knew it meant I could dabble in many things and have free time. I struggle to imagine where I want to be in one year much less five years. This made me feel wholly unaccomplished in my efforts to figure out life. But, then, I remembered that the one thing I definitely took away from my retreat was the fact that I don't need to make any decisions about the "rest of my life." I can make decisions for today and tomorrow and next week and one year and only if I want to, for more than that.

Life is not meant to be figured out. It is meant to be lived.

So, it turns out, I have learned a fair amount.

Having time to work things out, jumble them back together and then untangle them again is useful.

I used to make great snap decisions... they appeared so sound, so cogent, no one ever argued with me. [Maybe they don't care enough to argue.] But those decisions were not always the best decisions.

Life is more complicated and simpler than all that.

I have been privy to a lot of very interesting debates going on in my head. They have not come to any decisions; neither have I.

For now, continue to explore my options, though somewhat more concretely, by applying for jobs...all jobs that I have never done before. I can hold on to the sure things for another little while...

things you can't fix with glue

hearts

faith

trust

no kind of glue can bring back together things that are shattered into tiny pieces...

it's ok

build new

trying to make old, broken, tattered, shattered or bruised into shiny and new doesn't work

you have to build new

not re-build

it's dangerous to recycle materials
keep the memories
throw out the degraded pieces

build new

the battle rages

It's only a matter of time before I will be an expert at complicated East African languages and, yet, still not be able to do 8th grade math as presented by ETS.
I invited a group of four folks to join me on the couch at Starbucks tonight...they didn't want to disturb me. But I assured them it was NO problem. I wasn't sure how to break it to them that if they gabbed on in a language I didn't know it was just like listening to classical music to me. As long as I can stand to feel safe, I just hear it as the calming melody that keeps me trudging through the problems.As soon as the fear that is mathophobia (I'm sure there is a technical term but my obsession has not deepened to the point that I need to know it now) grips me, I turn my attention more to the conversation that I can't understand than to the numbers, letters and gibberish trying to pass itself of as English in my book. I imagine that I am catching phrases here and there, building an internal vocabulary list. I believe that I can make out parts of words and begin to build complicated language maps in my mind...how is this related to French, Spanish or Italian, maybe ancient Greek? I start to convince myself that I really need to listen to the conversation more carefully and stare less intensely at the garbled mess on my paper.
When the young man asked me what I was studying this evening, he couldn't help himself...the craziness in my book was as appealing to him as his unknown language was to me, I showed him the book and asked him what language they were speaking. After two tries, I still can only say that it is some East African language with hints of Hebrew (his explanation not my crazy musings I assure you). I had to admit I was pretty sure I would be learning to speak his language soon as the math thing really wasn't going well. He allowed as the book reminded him of painful college days.Our conversation made his pregnant wife uncomfortable...so I returned to my terrible book of torture called GRE review.

But it really is only a matter of time...thankfully, the course ends November 16th and I must take the damn test very soon afterwards.

Unconventional M&M's

Not feeling terribly well, physically, I turned off the alarm clock and slept until I couldn't anymore. I highly recommend this strategy if you don't feel well and can swing it.

I turned on the tv and was confronted with Martha Stewart making margaritas with Mo'Nique. I was startled and intrigued, so I kept watching. My favorite part was when Mo'Nique told Martha that the crucial step in making Strawberry Margaritas was to take a shot of Jose Cuervo (Mo'Nique's tequila of choice) ala tasting your soup for salt. Martha picked up the bottle and took a swig. Martha and Mo'Nique. Priceless.

Other unusual M&M's

My favorite, of course, was the story about the man on death row making art with pigment he leaches from M&Ms.

Another bunch of unconventional M&M's are the dark chocolate candies. I haven't worked up the courage to order personalized M&M's, but I have been trying to imagine who is the person I know that most needs personalized M&M's. As soon as I figure it out, I am definitely going to order them!

Don't push me 'cuz I'm close to the edge

I'm trying not to lose my head...

Imagine that song running through your head endlessly.

I don't own an I-POD or any other mp3 playing device, my cd player stays in the car and rarely is in use, so I can't blame my own playlist.

I listen to the radio, usually NPR, and otherwise, I flip the stations til I find something amenable, but only in the car.

I know it came from somewhere inside me and how I am feeling because I haven't actually heard the song on the radio, just in my head.

I like to try to trace back emotionally when I have a recurrent song or thought; it's like getting inside the supposed randomized playlist where you can SEE how the next song is chosen. It's a game to see if I can figure out where and how the song popped into my mind.

All I know for sure was that as I walked to my study hall, aka Starbucks, I kept hearing a menacing voice singing:

Don't push me 'cuz I'm close to the edge
I'm trying not to lose my head

Here's a sample (thanks, wikipedia; it will only work if you have JAVA enabled)...of course, I was only hearing the chorus.

Apparently, I am not the only one whose mind has lingered over these lyrics. And, some are both musing over the meaning of the lyrics as well as exhorting others to muse as well:

What does Grandmaster Flash mean by
Don't push me 'cuz I'm close to the edge
I'm trying not to lose my head?
What is he possibly referring to?

There is plenty more out there...folks analyzing the lyrics, the statement on poverty in the US, black folks lives and expressions of frustration in general.

For me, at least, the chorus is more about determination and resilience than it is about frustration. Yes, times may be hard, and it may feel like people and systems are working against you; maybe you can't catch a break or maybe you born under the sign of murphy's law, but no matter what hardships, troubles, complications or annoyances...
YOU are the master of your own destiny.

That's what I heard. That's how I am using these words:

Don't push me 'cuz I'm close to the edge
I'm trying not to lose my head

So, WATCH OUT.