Slight Improvements... I think

Okay, so I still threw up my breakfast before class. (No, no chance of my being pregnant, thanks.) So the anxiety levels are pretty high still... but today's class went a lot better, and I got to work with two students after school who have missed a lot of class and therefore, homework. I love working with the students one-on-one because then you can customize your explanations so that they really get it... instead of trying three different explanations that might cover everyone in the class, or might not.

As for work... I'm only working 3 days a week as it is. At work, I'm able to get some of my planning and grading done... and honestly, it's a stress-reliever because I get to talk to my friends there. That's about as close as I get to socializing lately.

I've decided to give it another solid two weeks and if I still feel sick everyday, I'll reevaluate then. I don't want to give up on this.

Is it just Mondays?

Another sucky day at school...

I have ten and a half weeks left and I just don't know if I'm going to make it without developing major health problems. My anxiety level is so high that I have a constant stomach ache and I keep developing little ulcers in my mouth. Never had either problem before I started stressing over student teaching.

On a brighter note

Tomorrow is my first day off since January 20th and they will be grooming the trails in Millcreek Canyon in the morning. At least my timing is good in one area of life.

Things I must keep in mind

1. They are not my children
2. They are not even really my students
3. It's not my school
4. I'm leaving Utah by 2006.

I felt like screaming when I left school today. I'm not sure what it is... if the problem stems from Utah's dominant culture, the screwy school system which I don't have time or inclination to describe now, or something else entirely. At the moment I can't think of a scenario that would include my teaching in a public school in Utah next year.

The scary part is... they believe it

I recently read a very pseudo-intellectual post on another site about why gay marriage should not be allowed. Evidently, because we all have the right to marry one person of the opposite sex, this constitutes equal rights already. This person implied that conferring "special" rights for homosexuals to marry each other would be akin to making pedophilia legal as well.

Yeah - just a slight legal difference when discussing adults instead of minors, but... well, what can I say. I'm sure this seems quite reasonable and rational to this person.

So anyway, I was much dismayed to see another similar statement against legalizing same-sex marriage in Salt Lake City's alternative paper - The City Weekly. This wasn't on the part of the paper, but was printed in an editorial.

This person's argument was much along the same lines as the above "equal rights already exist", but he continued on to explain why allowing same-sex marriage would harm "normal" marriages. His (sick and twisted and utterly confused) logic was as follows: if gays could marry, they would get company spousal benefits. This would put more stress on companies to pay for all these extra benefits. In turn there would be fewer benefits for traditional married couples. AND (stay with me) Because most traditional marriages fail because of money issues, this would cause even more marriages to fail.

Yes, according to this genius, allowing same-sex marriage leads directly to divorce for traditional married couples. Aren't you glad we've been warned?

People. Take responsibility for your own failings. If you can't get your shit together, getting a few dollars more or less in insurance benefits is not going to help you.

Why do so many marriages fail? It's not the money, really. It's a fricking LACK OF COMMUNICATION.

/rant

Conversation at work

smartass coworker: So how was your Valentine's day?
me: Started well, ended poorly.
sc: You know, Viagra could help that.
me: Ha. Funny. No, it was actually the foot in the mouth that caused the problem.
sc: So... duct tape would have been the ticket to romance?

Two steps back

Finally admitted to myself that I'm sinking again. Went back on the meds I quit taking 2 months ago. I know it isn't that big a deal, and is, once again, a temporary measure to help me survive the next three months, but it still feels like failure somehow.

Frankly, I'm almost too tired to care. I need to be able to function, and right now I'm on the verge of not being able to do that anymore. So... another month or three on the anti-depressants, and we'll see how it goes.

It's this numb acceptance of crapdom and inability to focus for more than 15 minutes at a time that tells me I need to suck it up and take the damn drugs. It's been four weeks since I had a day without school or work... How do people do this? Because I know for some people, no days off ever is a way of life. Or a way to death, depending on your perspective.

Anyway, with luck, the drug will work its magic and I will be alive enough to enjoy my real day off on Saturday. One can only hope.

Let me put it words you might understand...

Okay, Mr. CEO, let's try to get this straight. Now, if I walked into your office and started asking you questions about the exact procedure your janitors or your secretaries or security guards used in each particular situation, would YOU be able to answer ME? Yeah, didn't think so.

So why in the world do you expect me--a part-time employee and not even the manager of this place--to know the standard procedures for the concierge, the housekeepers, and the restaurant? 'Splain that to me, eh?

The concierge is also not supposed to be the errand boy for the chef. If the chef would keep track of his inventory and order his supplies on time, I wouldn't end up doing my job and someone elses for hours at a time.

So... would you like me to wipe for you, too?

I feel it sneaking up on me

Just that sad fatigue again. Nothing seems to be going quite right... half the French 1 kids got less than 160 pts out of 240 on the chapter test, 5 of 22 kids in French 2 got less than 60 pts out of 100 on their quiz.

Mostly, I think a lot of it has to do with my not having had a whole day off (from both teaching and working) since January 20th. I'm so close to finishing the rewrite of Revival, but I haven't been able to sit down and write since last Saturday. When I do have an hour or two to sit down, I've been so tired that my brain can't rise above basic motor control level to churn out the creative energy I need.

I need a vacation... or at least a weekend off.


AND Happy Birthday to Karlyn who turned 20 yesterday. Hope it was a good one, babe. Love you.

When someone writes what you've been thinking...

Just had a "thank-god-I'm-not-the-only-one-who-thinks-this" moment thanks to a link off of Fussy

American Coddle

This is such an accurate description of the problems that some of the kids in my classes have, it's just not funny. False praise can be much worse than not enough praise.

(Not that I'm to the point of agreeing with my mother's strange habit of random daggers of criticism when I'm feeling really good about something... but anyway. Different rant there entirely. *g*)

Better Day

Today was definitely a better day. And I ended up not having to work tonight. So the nap I was able to take definitely improved things.

Just saying... give me a slacker teenage boy over a moody teenage girl ANY day. Oy.

degrees of tired

I'm at the one where it hurts if someone touches you, casual conversation is utterly impossible, and simple tasks seem not-so-simple.

I'd like to either go back to bed or sit here and cry, but instead I get to go into school early today so I can get all the grades entered from last week. And then I get to stay through lunch so I can look through the supplemental materials.

Hating it? Just about. If it doesn't get better by week 4, I don't know if I'll last all 15 weeks.

Found this on someone else's site... thought it was interesting.

Notice my avoidance of the Deep South. I also think it's funny that I spent 4 years in New Hampshire and never madeit over to Maine. But then, I didn't have a car when I was in college and it's a damn long walk from the Vermont border to the Maine side of the state.



create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

Snow now ow

I left work as early as I could today because we're getting another great big snow storm. I would be more apreciative, of course, were I able to be out enjoying it. But no. Today I got up, went to work, came home, and must now start to work on lesson plans for the coming week for my French 1 and French 2 classes.

So basically, all this bounty of snow means to me is a longer commute. Oh, joy.

*evil grumpy look*

Could we have two Presidents, please?

Or maybe three? One for domestic issues like education, health care, and keeping the government the hell out of our bedrooms. One for foreign relations and diplomacy, and one for military actions.

Is that asking so much? I don't even want all of them to be Democrats, because I don't think any of the Dems have a good plan for foreign policy or the Iraq issue. I wouldn't even mind if one of them was George W. as long as HE didn't have any further say in resource management (ie: logging and mining and polluting) or diplomacy (because I don't think he understand the word) or education. Can I tell you how much the No Child Left Behind Act SUCKS? No. No. I will not get started on that. I just don't have the time right now. But it's bad and the only candidate who seems to really get that is Dean. But I think Dean would make a crappy President because of his ideas on foreign policy and military actions.

Okay. Not going to pursue this now. Must eat before leaving for work.

Parents, Teachers, Students

Now, I read a lot of rants about how terrible our public school teachers are. Granted, a lot of them are tired, worn out, fed up, insecure, etc. But not all of them are.

With the increased regulations and "core curriculum" and "national standards" that have to be met, teachers have less and less control over what material they teach and how they teach it. I say, anyone who has shit to say about teachers should take a good look at what hoops are being thrown in front of the education system these days. And I won't even go into funding.

But, starting my student teaching, I'm seeing another angle that most people don't ever get to observe.

I'm working with students who are predominantly white, middle to upper-middle class, and about 98% LDS. (That's Mormon, to you non-Utah people.) I really don't think these kids have ever been told "No" in their lives. I don't think they see their parents often enough to be told much, actually. Some of the students are so obviously desperate for attention -- any attention -- that they keep a running commentary going the whole class. The idea that they need to learn material in class so that they can perform well on quizzes and tests is beyond their understanding or caring.

Parents... well, parents at this school seem to care more for grades than for actual learning. The PTA has even created these vouchers that students can turn in to one teacher per grading period and that teacher is supposed to give them the next highest grade. No concept of earning grades here, eh? One parent called the principal repeatedly regarding her daughter's grade (an F), demanding that she be given a D- so that she didn't fail the year. The teacher refused to change the grade because the student had done no work. The principal caved to the parent's demands and changed the grade himself.

Not all parents are like this. Not all students are either. But I would estimate that this is common behavior for about 75% of the students in this school.

So why do we have problems with public education in this country? I'd say we can't lay all the blame on teachers, can we.

There are advantages to not making any money

Because I quit my job last April for health reasons (mental, physical, and emotional) I made about $10K less this year than last year. I also paid out heaping sums of money for school. What this means is that I am going to get a whopping $1500 back on my taxes this year. That will pay off the balance on one of my credit cards! Yay!

I feel so much better now.

Other than the migraine and my retwisted back. Grrr.

Nothing exciting to say

Except that I got stuck on a technicality in the rewrite and I've posted a short excerpt on my writing blog.

I am someone's crazy ex-girlfriend

The thing about writing is that you have to let yourself see situations from every angle. You have to leave your much-loved protagonist's mind and step on in to the antagonist's. Having been on a rewriting spree lately, I've been in this frame of mind quite a bit. So when the discussion a few nights ago turned to ex-boy/girlfriends, the title statement of this post popped into my head.

Now, I like to think I'm relatively well-adjusted now. Granted, I'm a cranky bitch when I'm over-tired or under-fed, but hey... no one's perfect all the time, eh? However, I acknowledge that this was not always the case.

In telling the story of my bizarre and angsty on-again off-again relationship with my college boyfriend who will remain unnamed (though I will say that my villian Zorikaner's first name is Daviel because David didn't work with my naming conventions... cough cough), I realized that while he was my ass of an ex-boyfriend with definite alcoholic tendencies, I was his nutty, slightly clinging and martyred girlfriend.

Seriously. I cringe when I think of some of the melodramatic and overly sincere emails I sent during those years. All 4 of them--years, not emails. However, I would like to say that I also still kick myself for answering long-distance collect calls from him at 3 in the morning. (A semi-regular occurrance, sadly)

Anyway...

Past the 95K mark on the rewrite. Started student teaching unofficially a little early. Desperately need to get some exercise. I feel like a slug.

Until next time...

Word by Word

Been on a roll the last couple days. I'm now over 90K on the rewrite of Revival. Next time I get stuck... (which will be after the rescue scene when I have to come up with a new ending. In other words, in about 10K)... I think I'll post a few excerpts on my writing blog. Usually it just takes time away from getting the darn thing finished, but since I have to go back and reread a few sections before I can get the darn thing tied up in a non-farcical ending, I might as well pull some of the good parts.

But for now... laundry.

WHACK!

So. Saturday night I threw my back out. My upper back, that is, so I couldn't turn my head. Now, that alone sucks a lot. It's the kind of pain that's so intense you just don't notice much else. Forming words that don't sound like moans or whimpers becomes an all-consuming struggle.

Last night after I got home from work, I was changing into my pajamas and I noticed this enormous bruise on my arm. ENORMOUS. About 2.5 inches by 4 inches on my left bicep. And it wasn't an ordinary bruise, either. No siree. This sucker was dead purple in the center (about a 1 inch oval) and a flaming turquoise all around that. Looked like it was painted on my arm. (What I really don't understand is how I didn't notice this as I changed out of my uniform shirt and into my sweater to go home... but anyway.)

And as I stared at this mega-bruise with my jaw hanging down like a moron, I remembered how it must have happened.

Right after I got to work I ended up having to check a guest in. Normally we take care of their paperwork and hand them off to the concierge who walks them up to their room and gives them the spiel about all the amenities we offer. However, the guys were busy with other guests so I ended up walking the gentleman up to his room.

The door had been blocked open with a towel - as the housekeepers do when they're cleaning - so I thought that maybe they were still inside. I rushed ahead to check and WHACKED my arm on the wrought-iron door handle. (Remember that I was unable to turn my head yesterday.) The pain didn't really register because I was already in such agony over my back/neck. But now, looking at the bruise and thinking back... DAMN. I hit that sucker HARD.

So I'm off to work again, hoping that I manage to get through the evening without inflicting more gruesome damage upon myself.

Owie.

Update: working for famous people does not make you important.

So right now we are in the middle of the Sundance Film Festival insanity up in Park City. What does this mean for us lowly hospitality workers?

1. We get more calls from people saying "Yeah, well, Jen and Brad think they might want to come after all. And Maggie definitely wants to get out of the place she's in now. Do you have rooms? And I know they make like, ten million dollars a year, but can you do discounts for them?" (No, I'm not joking.)

2. The town looks like a giant funeral - lots of black. Black hats, black scarves, black sunglasses, black leather, black... you get the idea.

3. They ate all the damn wheat bread at my favorite sandwich shop. Bastards. I'm local. I eat there two or three times a week. Does this mean nothing? Argh.

4. It takes a extra half hour to drive to work. And yesterday afternoon, took an extra half hour to get home again.

Anyway... is it any wonder that I'm not giddy with the prospect of possibly sighting a celebrity? Oooh, aaaaah. Big deal.

Uh Oh

It's all over now. I've passed from tired and sort of weepy into SUPER MANIC HIGH. Aaaggghhhhh!!!

heh heh

Why I should go to bed on time

So, I usually get home from work around midnight, give or take 15 minutes depending on the weather and road conditions. Now, the other day I went to Cockbuster... I mean Blockbuster, and rented some movies. Because Jay's in Seattle partying... I mean schmoozing... I mean at a conference. For work. School. Whatever the hell he does up at the U. Yeah, that. So I got the movies to go with my frozen pizza and my cookies and the two paperbacks I bought at the grocery store BECAUSE I FELT LIKE IT. The first was American Wedding - which was fan-fuckin-tasically hilarious. (Had to slip in the "fuckin" infix, as described by my linguistics teacher at Dartmouth. Love that Ivy League, Baby.)

No, I am not drunk, just tired. Hence the title of the post.

As I was saying.... what was I saying? So the movies are due back tomorrow because Cocksucker... damn it, I mean... Blockbuster wants them back in 48 hours BY NOON or damnit, they will have your SOUL!!!! Uh, I mean, *MY* SOUL!!!!! So I watched the second one which was a girly sappy-ass movie, the title of which I refuse to divulge to any of you. So there. And now it's 2 AM Mountain Standard (or is it Daylight now?) Time and I am alone and therefore have no one to stop me from writing this ridiculous entry. HAH! I knew there was a point in there somewhere.

Actually, there might not have been any point in there, but damn if I don't feel better, eh?

Now I will go finish off my frickity-fracking "flee-from-the-Guard-into-the-Raiders-and-lots-of-people-die-in-gruesome-ways-or-are-taken-captive-or-not" scene that I started this morning. Yeah.

And THEN I will go to bed. (Because clearly that's where I should be already, isn't it?)

Name Change

My senior year of college, I had this wacko roommate. Ah... well, actually I had two wacko roommates, but one was mostly wacko because her shrink had her doped to the gills on anti-depressants and (god-only-knows-why) anti-psychotics. This entry is not about her.

It's about the other wacko.

Now this chick was nutty, but deceptively so. At first, we thought she was pretty cool. But then we would come home and find her on the futon, watching our TV with some guy, and her mini-skirt would have slid all the way up to her hips so that we could see her underwear. And her underwear was kind of... little-kid-ish... cotton with hearts or bears or flowers on them. Weird.

But that's not what this entry is about either.

No. See, wacko chick seemed to think that I needed extra explanation about reality. And she would punctuate every statement with "Katheeeeeee" "Okay, Katheeeee?" "No, Katheeeeeeeeee, it's not like that." You get the idea. After graduation, I became Kate. Not Kathy, not Katie, just Kate. One syllable, not much you can do to warp it. But I can still hear her f*kd up little voice saying, "But, Katheeeeeeeee."

Ugh. Shudder shudder.

Election Stuff

Since the whole presidential stuff is fast coming upon us, I thought I would finally get around to doing some more reading on the candidates. Vote Smart seems to be a fairly comprehensive site. I think the negative sites are funny and sometimes a better indicator of whether I'll like the candidate or not. That way, if the things "they" think are wrong with the person are the same things "they" would think were wrong with me... well, I know I've found someone I need to take a closer look at.

Gossip Queen

I think that should be my new title at work. Mind you, I'm not the one spread the gossip, but people tell me all sorts of shit and then say "Uh, don't pass that on, I didn't intend to tell anyone that."

This isn't a new phenomenon either. I knew all the dirt at the Big Evil Hotel, too. And before that at the Grand Canyon, I knew all the good tidbits as well. People who hated each other would talk to me about the other person, knowing full well that I spoke to their enemy on a regular basis. Why? Beats me.

One of the HR Directors I've worked with (who happened to be younger than me) explained it like this. "You're like Canada. No one really cares what you think, but they know that you won't be all judgemental." I think the fact that I never share anything that someone asks me not to helps as well. I'm also not really interested in the office politics and career building that many of my colleagues are. For me, hospitality isn't a life-time thing. It's just a job I do while I finish grad school and work on a real career. (Preferably writing, but teaching as a back-up.)

So, in short, I don't really know why people tell me their shit, but I do have some theories on the matter. All I know for sure is that I know more about the people I work with than is probably healthy for any of us. But hey, it does give me some neat ideas for stories... and I have the strangest dreams.

Say it five times fast

Otolaryngologist. Otolaryngologist. Otolaryngologist. Otolaryngologist. Otolaryngologist.

Yeah. That's the kind of doctor I need to go to to finally do something about not having been able to breath through my nose well for the last ten years. I mean, I CAN breathe through my nose if I'm totally relaxed (ie: sleeping under the influence of NyQuil) but otherwise, I'm pretty much a mouth-breather by necessity.

Over the christmas break, my dad said that he had really noticed the difference in my voice - much more nasal than it used to be. So he said to go get it checked out, and if they told me it was a purely cosmetic issue (again - I've been twice before when I was still in college) that he would pick up the tab. Awfully nice of him, considering that septorhinoplasty (correction of a damaged septum) run about 3-5000 dollars.

It would be nice to be able to breathe well again though. Hoping to get it over with in May - after student teaching is finished. Not really excited about the idea of someone slicing open my face and rearranging the part thought. Gak. Gives me the willies, or I would have done something about it before now.

Home again, Home again

Got in last night. We had a few flight delays due to the immense amount of snow that's been hitting Salt Lake for the past two weeks, but nothing major.

The trip was good - no melodrama to speak of. We spent about a week with my family in Pittsburgh and then headed to New Jersey by way of Arlington, Virginia and Baltimore, Maryland. Visited with my friend Kathryn whom I hadn't seen since 1999 and spent another night with Karen who had threatened to disown me if I didn't come visit before 2004. Snuck in just under the wire there.

The worst thing about the trip was sleeping on different, questionable surfaces. It may take another week for my back to recover. I think I can live with that.

I've posted my first assignment for the Two Year Novel Class on Forward Motion. I think the hardest part will be to maintain my progress on my current projects while moving forward with this one. Should be interesting in any case.

Happy New Year to you all.

Tomorrow I Fly

Flying home to Pittsburgh for the holidays. This will be Jay's first introduction to my entire family. Up until now he's only met my sister Karlyn... Should be interesting all around, I think.

And I have almost finished all my christmas present making. I just have to finish off the piece for my parents and I will be ready to roll. Or at least to pack...

Wheee!!!!

Visitin'

Yesterday morning I went to the school where I will be student teaching starting in January. I didn't actually get the chance to observe the classes that I will be teaching, but I sat through three of her other classes. The first two were okay, but the third? Little snots. Rude, disrespectful, barely listened to her... Then she asked me to get up and speak to them for a few minutes at the end of class... they listened for all of thirty seconds. One little hootchie mama calls out at she's leaving "See ya, whatever your name was."

My god. Do these kids have to work so hard to be cool that they can't practice the most common of courtesies?

That said, in her other classes, there were at least two of three students who were very interested in the language and several who had questions for me about studying French and living in France as a student. So... not a totally bad experience, and I know I shouldn't be quite so appalled at the third class's behavior, but...

The snow is a comin'

So, Jay says that we are going to get hit with a storm right about the time I'm supposed to leave work. Brilliant. Now, the plows are very good about keeping I-80 clear, but if it starts dumping an hour before I leave and doesn't stop for four or five hours... not going to happen.

If it is snowing like that, he wants me to stay up in Park City for the night - either at the hotel or at my friend Kelsi's place. I have to be back up in town for our group meeting Monday before work anyway. I just hope that Terry doesn't have any problems driving up for her shift, since she's the one to relieve me at 11pm.

Damn snow.

(Actually, I love the snow for skiing purposes, it just sucks for driving in.)

Argh

So many things to do...

Must finish family christmas presents by Monday.
Need to continue with revisions on Revival.
Should finish off two more crits this weekend.
Want to keep working on Retribution.

Also, before leaving on the 22nd, I MUST get rid of this awful sore throat and ear ache. Gah.

More on the weekly theme

That would be Sleeplessness, of course. Somehow I find it depressing that it's not quite 6pm here and I've already been awake for more than 12 hours.

I use the term "awake" loosely.

On the subject, but in a different vein...

Between the time I was 11 and 15, my parents had the master bedroom in the basement. My bedroom was in the attic (3rd floor) and my baby sisters were right below me. Naturally, the walk up one floor to my room was a lot less scary than going down two floors to my parents. During these years, I learned to wake instantly when high-pitched voices whispered my name from the hall. Or at least to wake enough to lift the covers and let the munchkin of the moment crawl up with me.

Did I mention that I had a twin bed? Not large. And very small children, particularly the youngest, can somehow command sections of a bed totally disproportionate with their physical size.

So during this time I also learned to sleep in uncomfortable positions - smack against the wall, with knees and elbows in my back... I think that's why I have no trouble sharing a bed now.

Just a thought.

Edited to add the "NO" that I forgot

Not a morning person

There's something about waking up before 7am that just makes my whole week become a blur. I've started back to work and have been on the morning shift. Since I have a 45 minute drive up there, I have to get up at least an hour and a half prior to my shift. When the shift starts at 7am, this means I'm waking up at Oh Dark Hundred Hours.

Definitely not my preferred time of day. However, might as well be at work while I'm semi-conscious instead of being semi-conscious at home and totally alert at work...

The hardest part is not letting myself take an afternoon nap after I get home. Soooooo sllleeeeeepyyyyyyy.

Back, I think

Only got 2 hours sleep at Jay's Mom's house in New Jersey on a bed that had feather pillows. (I am mucho allergico to feather-o pillows.) Having not slept with feather pillows for a long time, I had forgotten how miserable said action leave me. Sneezing sneezing sneezing.

Also did not sleep on the 5 hour plane ride. Have been home for 3 hours. Very tired. Fading fast. Promise to be interesting sometime in the future.

Wham Bam

And I passed the 50K mark for NaNo today. Nowhere near done with the story itself. I have at least another 50K to go before that's complete, but now I get to let the idea stew over the holiday weekend while I'm traveling and away from computer access. (I could take the laptop, but I don't think it's worth the hassle, and I won't have that much downtime anyway.)

No end to my talents...

Yep, so I was cutting up potatoes the other night (to make some garlic mashed ones) and the furnace guy was here, because our heat wasn't turning on and this weekend the weather dropped into the 20's (fahrenheit)... Anyway. So the guy walks around the corner and starts talking to me. Distracted, I look up but forget to STOP CHOPPING.

Nearly took off the tips of my middle and ring finger on my left hand. Thank god for my strong fingernails. Stopped the knife from going any farther, but I still have nice slashes on the sides of my fingers. Haven't had any of those since I used to work with the jeweler's saws in high school art classes. (Mrs. Posey, 4th period English, just shook her head when I'd show up with bandaids on half my fingers.)

Still not as bloody as the time I sliced into my middle finger (again on the left hand) with a professional bread knife when I was working at the grill. Damn rolls. Went through seven bandaids and had to wear a finger condom for a week at work. Most annoying. Not as annoying as amputating my entire finger would have been, of course...

Considering my record, it's amazing that I'm as comfortable with a knife in my hand as I am.

Just a few subjects

There aren't many issues that I am unable to see both sides of... Most of them revolve around prejudice of some kind.

In the last five years, two of my close female friends have "come out", two more have always been "out", off-hand I don't know how many of my male friends are gay... more than a handful definitely, and if I tried to fit all my other-than-totally-straight friends into my apartment, there would be no room to move. So on the subject of "allowing" gay marriage, I'm sure you can guess which side of the bigotry line I stand on.

Last night I was hanging out with a few friends--girls' night--and one of them says, "So what do you think of that decision allowing gay marriage?" And the tone of her voice led me to believe that she somehow thought that it was a bad idea. Whooomp. I jumped on that subject like a cat on a mouse, baby.

Me: It's about freaking time. Why should there be any regulation of two adults wanting to spend their lives together? Is there such an overabundance of love in the world, that some of it has to be declared illegal?

Small-minded girl: Well, don't you think...

Me: Yes, I do think, that's why I think that this should be a non-issue. Of course same-sex partners should have the opportunity to make their union legal just like opposite-sex couples. Preferably, I'd like to see it kept to humans, of course.

SMG: (humor flying right over her head) I think this is going to be a major issue in the next presidential election. The republicans think it's wrong and the democrats are split 50-50 on it.

Me: Bullshit. Not all republicans are evil.

SMG: Um... (again, missing the humor)

Me: (taking a different tack) What part of the world will start to crumble if gays are given equal rights? How will this hurt anyone else? I fail to see why the "marriage protection" fools think that recognizing gay marriage will bring the sky crashing down. What is the big deal?

At this point, one of my other friends stepped in with "Actually, I think that the state of the economy is going to be a bigger issue." And from there we settled into less volatile subjects.

Now, I didn't like this girl before because she's... she's... actually, I wasn't sure why I didn't like her before this, but now I think I have a solid step up on understanding what it is about her that makes me wish she would go play in traffic. I'm just still in shock that someone I considered reasonably intelligent could hold such a backwards viewpoint.

Anyway... I should be doing homework about now instead of ranting on here. Aaaagh! So pissed, though.

I think I'm addicted to online quizzes and polls...


Elvish


To which race of Middle Earth do you belong?
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dinner table conversation

So last night Jay and I were sitting down to a lovely dinner of leftover spaghetti with turkey meatballs - we eat so well, it's sick - and the subject turned to education. Not unusual since I'm in a Masters of Education program and Jay's taking an education class this term... And I realized why I was getting so fed up with my classes. I don't think I want to teach in the schools here because the schools here are not set up for learning OR teaching. They're total crap.

Average class size around here is 30 kids, usually closer to 40. A lot of teachers have a full course load - in other words, no prep periods, no consultation periods, no breaks at all. So, 7 classes, 35 kids per class... each teacher is trying to get to know and figure out how best to reach 245 kids. TWO HUNDRED FORTY FIVE. WTF? How does anyone think that's going to happen? I can't fathom it in my reality.

Add to that the contradiction between the push for more authentic teaching and the totally incompatible goals laid out by No Child Left Behind (another paving stone in the path to Hell)... well, gee, let's just make it totally fricking impossible to do the kind of job I'd like to do. I don't think I'm cut out to make that many compromises.

However, all is not lost. With my handy dandy teaching certification, I will be able to pick up the lush jobs at tutoring centers and do all that other real, hands-on, actually getting to know the kids sort of teaching.

Which should give me plenty of time to work on my writing and getting published goals, which are a heck of a lot more enjoyable.

Drat. Phooey. Darn. Poo.

Sheila (Starlines) and Holly (Real Writers Bounce) are packing it up. While I suppose this means that I will have fewer excuses to procrastinate in the mornings, uh, afternoons, and uh, evenings... I will miss the near-daily does of both of them.

I am happy that both of them are doing so fabulously with their writing... and I look forward to reading their next books. In fact, I have a B&N Gift Card burning a hole in my pocket, so maybe I will go pick up Sheila's most recent - Blade Dancer written under her S.L. Viehl pen name - which I haven't bought already because I've been BROKE.

I hope both of them continue to pop in from time to time on Forward Motion.

On critiquing

Yes, another writing entry.

Critiques are an invaluable resource for a writer. Often we're so close to our own story that we don't even see the words that are actually on the page anymore because we're so caught up in the images we see in our heads. (you say nutcase, I say writer...)

But, we need to remember that not all critiques are created equal and not all critiquers (hereafter referred to as critters) are going to have comments that are useful for you or constructive for your story. This is what we have to remember as writers. That we ARE the writers and that we're writing a story that only we can write. We are not bound to change something in a story we love because another person thinks it might be better their way. (Unless that person is your editor and they want to pay you for the book, in which case, negotiation is the way to go.)

All of us have preferences. Some people like everything spelled out for them -- they like to see all the workings behind stage, see all the world-building elements flash through because it makes the story richer and more involved for them. They don't want teases and flirts with the world, they want to KNOW. Other people could care less about things like the monetary system or the art history of your made up people/country because all they want is the story -- what happens, who it happens to, why it's happening in the first place, and most of all, how the hell the characters are going to survive the next twist. For these readers you can drop tidbits along the way, fleshing out the world as you go and that's A-okay.

Either way, someone's going to have an issue with your style.

So what can we get from these crits if half the comments are going to lead us down the winding path to misery? How do you know which comments to listen to and which to dismiss. And I mean dismiss as not helpful to the story you are trying to tell, not dismiss as meaningless. If you made all the changes a critter suggested, THAT reader would be ecstatically happy with your revisions, but you might not be. And guess who has to finish the damn book? Here's a hint-- not the critter.

What this means is that you have to have a strong sense of what you want from your story. You need to know what your central themes are. You need to know what your character motivations are. You need to know everything you can about your story. AND you have to have the confidence to stay true to that vision.

Some of the comments you get, you won't like. For instance, maybe you love a certain scene and can't bring yourself to cut it, but after reading five crits about how it throws off the pace and flow... well, you could keep it, but maybe you'll realize that the critters are right and it does need to go. ("But I love it." "But it doesn't work." "But I love it." "But you know it has to go."... so goes the mental conversation)

Some comments will be pompous and frankly so far off of your vision that you will just have to sit back and stare, jaw on the desktop, because the critter seems to have been reading a different story than the one you thought you posted...

And maybe I'm weird (Hah! MAYBE?) but the whole long disclaimer about how the critter doesn't really know anything, they're so uneducated, but they'll do their best to make you a better writer and possibly that much more fit for publication... PISS ME OFF. Now I don't have a problem with "hey, this is my opinion, take it or leave it" but I don't need the self-effacing BS seasoned with the implication that you actually do know what you're talking about but would never be so rude as to say that outright.

As a counter to this trend, I think I will add "this is the word of the Lord, as channeled through my glorious self" before every crit I do... At least it would keep ME entertained. The hell with y'all.

edit: It occurs to me that it might not be obvious that I meant the last paragraph entirely tongue in cheek... just wanted to clarify.

And another strange writing experience...

So before I started up on the NaNo book on Saturday, I was digging through my stuff (one of the boxes that is yet unsorted and contains all manner of odd tidbits) and found the original map for the Three R's Triology (Revival, Retribution, Restoration). I spread it out on the table and was trying to repair some of the torn bits in the middle when Jay saw it.

He went nuts. "This is so cool. Do you realize what a great teaching tool this would be for meteorology?!?! You have to make me a copy. What's your scale? Where's the 45 degree?"

Me: "What? I just drew this to get story ideas." Another idea hits me. "So, um, well, what do you think the weather would be, say..." I point to the WIP's locale. "HERE?"

Anyway, it evolved into a very interesting discussion about weather and how it would effect my world. Had to add another continent and raise the mountains higher in order to get snow to fall where I want it to, but that's the joy of making up your own world.

When we had some of the boys over for dinner on Sunday, Jay brought out my map again and quized them on what the weather would be. To my surprise they were really excited about it, too. Dang. If I had known, I would have brought it out long before now.

I am a happy girl.

Passed the 20% mark

I'm a fifth of the way to 50K for NaNo. Most of what I'm writing will need serious revision, of course, but at least it will exist to be revised instead of swimming around in my fishbowl brainpan.

I think I'm going to take one day a week to work on Revival though... I'd like to finish the rewrite before the end of the year. Though I now know more about the ending of Revival just by sketching out the start of Retribution. Nifty how that works.

But really, when I go back and read what I've written so far on Retribution I'm like... okay, where did that come from. Because I'll start the scene not knowing how things are going to work out and by the end of the chapter all these characters and dialogue and scenarios have just sprung forth from my fingers. But WHERE is it coming from? I'm not consciously thinking of this stuff while I'm writing. I'll go back and reread and find things that just make me go "what?" I mean interesting stuff that I have no active memory of typing out.

What's most surprising is that it doesn't all suck. So whoever is channeling into my little typing fingers... Thank you.

Strange but true

My mom just sent me a clipping from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. I don't watch TV so I totally missed the whole thing, but the guy - the "star" - of the Joe Schmoe show is a guy I went to highschool with. In fact, he was in my homeroom. His last name Gould - my last name Gold - so we pretty much sat right next to each other for four years.

The article went on and on about what I nice guy he is... perhaps. I don't remember him being particularly nice. But then again, who hasn't improved since high school.

I envy him the $100,000 check though... sigh.

Motivation

I'm finding it extremely hard to be motivated for school anymore. I feel like I'm just jumping through the hoops at this point. Maybe I'd feel differently if our instructor wasn't a complete moron. He's not stupid, he's just an ass. Two more weeks of him and we get to move on though. Back to one of the instructors we had near the beginning - for our third class, I think. And this next class should be interesting. It's officially titled "Action Research" and is supposed to replace what would otherwise be a Master's thesis.

Too bad, because I would LOVE to see some of the yahoos in my program try to write a thesis. Most of them bitch and moan over five pages... Maybe that's the real reason I'm sick of the program. We're all a little burned out, but some of these guys are acting like ten years olds who've been kept inside too long. They practically sit there pouting.

The other night, we went to the Eccles Broadcast center up at the University of Utah to see where and how they broadcast the Ednet system (very cool) and then drove back to school for the last half of class. The instructor was late getting back, so two of the guys decided that they wanted to get home earlier than usual that night and set the clock in the room ahead twenty minutes.

Hello, fifth graders?

I'm not just disgusted with our instructor anymore, now I'm ready to smack half my classmates. No wonder the prospect of blowing off class to go to the NaNo kickoff has me excited.

Argh.

Hmm...


You are Form 4, Gargoyle: The Fallen.

"And The Gargoyle mended his wings from the
blood of the fallen so he could rise up from
imprisonment. With great speed and
resourcefulness, Gargoyle made the world his
for the taking."

Some examples of the Gargoyle Form are Daedalus
(Greek) and Mary Magdalene (Christian).
The Gargoyle is associated with the concept of
success, the number 4, and the element of wood.
His sign is the new moon.

As a member of Form 4, you are a creative and
resourceful individual. You are always
thinking of possible solutions to problems you
face and you generally choose one that is
right. Much of your success comes from your
ability to look at things a little differently
than everyone else. Gargoyles are the best
friends to have because they don't always take
things for face value.


Which Mythological Form Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Much sadness

My toaster died today. It's in perfect condition, except that its circuits have been fried. Electricity not flowing into my little heating box.

Of course, I'm going out to buy another one right now. You don't understand how many of my meals rely on the ability to toast bread. At least breakfast and lunch - dinner is usually a step or two above that.

Sigh. Better the toaster than the car, though.

Religion and Belief

I posted a few things on the Religious Debates forum at Evolution last month and I been meaning to elaborate on some of those ideas for a while. So, before I get distracted with outlining and worldbuilding for my NaNoWriMo project today, I thought I would try to put some order to my thoughts. (I know, not entirely possible for me. But still, I try.)

Religion and the reasons people choose to believe a certain thing, join a specific denomination, or attend church regularly are things that have always facinated me. Probably because I can't quite wrap my mind around it. It just feels empty to me.

For me, the relationship with God is a very personal issue. As I've written previously (perhaps not here though) I don't have any sense of God when I'm in a church or attending religious functions. (The one notable exception to this is Sacre Coeur in Paris, which just has a quiet presence that never fails to soothe me.) No, I generally feel that connection outside, whether it be at the top of a mountain, under a clear, starry sky, or out in the middle of the Grand Canyon.

Hiking the GC was the first place I had felt that overwhelming sense of how immense and how intensely beautiful a place could be - and also the feeling that I belonged there and... I don't know quite how to explain it. Just this incredible sense of awe and well-being. I've felt it again many times since, but hiking there was the first place I had felt it in a very long time. So for me - that's it. No church, no religion can come close to that feeling. And maybe that's because those are man's constructs and are flawed in the way that we are all flawed - subject to human imperfection and a certain mortal pettiness.

Outside - in nature, if you prefer - you don't have that. There's you and there's wind, rain, rock, sun, trail, mountain... Nature has a certain impassive "been here long before you - will be here long after you" kind of wonder to it. If you don't have respect for the climate and the terrain, you're going to be in trouble. But if you approach the activity/place with the proper respect and preparation, the rewards can be amazing.

So maybe that's the feeling that other people find in their church communities... I'm not sure. I think many people go because they think they have to or because they are afraid not to. That's what I couldn't get behind - that going to church always felt like such a chore. With all the grumbling and fussing it didn't have any JOY in it for me.

I was raised Catholic. I believe I stopped attending mass around age 16 or 17. I recall numerous times sitting around the dinner table, talking, and the subject of religion and faith would come up. The big question was always, "Well, what DO you believe, then?" I never had an answer. A couple times my mother dressed me down for acting like I was better than everyone else "You think that we couldn't possibly understand how smart and complex you are." But what I don't think she ever understood was that I didn't have the words to give an answer. Belief is such a complex subject. I didn't have the experience or the reference to explain so that I could understand it myself, much less transmit that understanding to someone else. I still don't have it and I might never.

It was never as simple for me as "Oh, Jesus is the son of God and with the Holy Spirit, they are all One as the Holy Trinity." I mean, honestly, what does that mean? I think those are terms that men have established to put something that is beyond human understanding into a package that most people can at least recite, if not comprehend.

On the Jesus subject (very briefly)... I believe there are some people in this world who have a greater connection to God (or whatever term you prefer), a greater awareness of our place in creation. I have no doubt that he existed and was a compelling individual whose intelligence and compassion set him apart in his time. He was most certainly a teacher and a leader. Was he the Son of God? Well... in some sense, aren't we all? Some people just shoulder the responsibility better than others.

The whole cult of Christ - Christianity... I just can't believe that's what Jesus would have wanted. It's become a twisted heap of rules, regulations, hierarchies, and opposing factions. In theory, I think it's a positive philosophy. It practice, it doesn't always come out so good.

The whole Bible argument - "Well, it says in the Bible that..." - used to justify hatred and prejudice... sick. Really sick. Those words were not inscribed by God's hand. Even Christ didn't have a go at them. No. Those words, filtered through the imperfect, and naturally prejudiced minds of men, work hard to interpret what the authors saw as God's message. But it's also a mythological history of a people. Stories have long been used to illustrate an author's point. And while there are clearly factual historic details in there, it's not meant to be a literal thing.

Anyway, I think that's enough for me today. I'll return to the subject later.

Unemployment

So. Filed for unemployment today - that's a first for me. I'll be laid off from the Goldener Hirsch until December 1st, but at least I know I have a job to go back to.

This is a much less nerve-wracking prospect than my three months of desperate job-seeking this summer. Almost three months of unemployment (May-July) does not exactly boost one's self esteem.

I'm still registered to substitute teach, but have not received any calls yet. I think I might need to register at a few more districts... maybe at the catholic school, too. I can still make an additional $80/week without losing benefits - that would be about a day and ahalf of subbing each week.

We'll see what happens.

Now, this, I like.

INFJ - "Author". Strong drive and enjoyment to help others. Complex personality. 1% of the total population.

Take Free Myers-Briggs Personality Test

Hmmm

Has the posting set up changed again, or is it really just this different on Windows versus my beloved Mac?

I hope it hasn't changed and this is just an evil PC anomaly. Please please please.

Absentee Blogging

I'm finding that I can either write or I can blog. For now, writing is taking precedent over babbling away here.

As of October 12th, I will be on a seasonal layoff from the Inn, so perhaps I'll have more time then.

For now, I am completely uninspired in terms of Blogotopics. (As if you hadn't already figured that out.)

Woo Hoo!

I signed up for NaNoWriMo today. Should be pretty dern nifty, I think.

Maybe there is an upside to being laid off for the month of November... heh heh.

Ooh, eeeh, aaah, Owwww

So. Jay got home Saturday night, but I didn't get home from work until midnight... We got up at 8 - I had about 5 or 6 hours of sleep - and after Jay had 3 breakfasts (muesli with bananas, eggs and toast, and a giant plate of left over veggie fried rice) we finally hit the road.

Went up Big Cottonwood canyon and took the Dog Lake trail up to the ridge. The aspen are spectacular - most of them turn gold, but there are varieties that go orange and gold. Granted, not quite on par with NY/PA maple trees in the fall, but as beautiful as I've seen here in Utah. Nicest part was, we went a bit off trail to get to the peak, couldn't see a sign of civilization for 360 degrees. A mere half hour drive from the city... this is why I converted to liking this odd place.

I sense that I'm not as coherent as usual, but that might be due to the fact that I only got about 4 hours of sleep last night. Had to get up at 5:30 to be at work by 7. There are disadvantages to working up the hill. Especially with the construction... takes about an hour. Blech.

So sleeepyyyyy.

CLUNK (sound of head hitting desk...)

So, I survived

I'm not sure what the final deal will work out to be, but Mme. Durst said I spoke very well and she thought I could handle her first and second year French, possibly third year as well. Not the AP classes, of course. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing that -- not when the AP test is at stake at the end of the year.

So, I may end up doing just half-day student teaching, which will mean doing 15 weeks instead of 10, but that will let me work and be sane for the duration.

Then I just need to find out what additional classes I need to take for the ESL endorsement...

.....

I'm so nervous right now, I can't even think of a title for this post. At 2:30 this afternoon, I will be meeting with the woman who might let me student teacher with her this winter. She's a native French speaker, and even though I know I speak very well and have a good grasp of language, literature, history, and culture, I still can't shake the feeling that she's going to turn me down.

Oh, and I have to call the State Office of Education... AGAIN. I've left a couple messages regarding the endorsement requirements and they have not gotten back to me. Very frustrating.

Nerves of Jell-O

I'm just freaking out with stress over the whole certification, endorsment, student-teaching thing. First of all, I have no idea how I am going to be able to student-teach full time and still work enough hours at the Inn to pay my bills. Just don't know. May have to throw myself on my parents' mercy yet again. This has been such a bad year for me financially... and the first half wasn't too great mentally or emotionally either. BUT - I know things will work out somehow.

I just can't shake the feeling that someone is going to call me up and say "Oh, sorry, we just realized that you don't belong here after all. You have to go back to school for another 4 years before we even think of letting you in a classroom as a teacher. Hah!"

It's not exactly a reassuring feeling.

CONGRATULATIONS!!

Congrats to "Mr. and Mrs. Dobscrub" on the birth of their baby girl!

Enjoy every second with her. And of course she is perfect.

KaBOOM! Sploooosh!

That's the sound of the dam of my two-year-long writer's block being blown up to let the river of creativity flow once again. It's a wonderful thing. Better received than blowing, say, Glen Canyon Dam would be.

Babbling, babbling...

Yes, so after two years of being able to produce NADA, I picked up the first fantasy novel I finished way back in 2001 and have begun to rewrite it.I wish I could simply revise it, but it needs too many changes for that.

Some scenes I've been able to keep almost word-for-word, but others have to be tossed and replaced. Plus, I'm fleshing out the two subplots, so that's all new stuff to be added. But the thing is, I've put enough time between writing and rewriting that I'm able to see the whole story... and the huge gaping holes.

My numbers thus far for about 2 weeks of writing whenever I can: 26,748 words. Not bad for me. In fact, extraordinarily good for me. AND - the big bonus: I know how the middle will go. Haven't decided on the end for sure, but the two options I am considering are hundreds of times better than the first attempt.

Do what I say...

...Not what I do. That seems to be the theme of my current class. The instructor is smug and complacent. He has provided no syllabus, which is probably a good thing considering the assignments change week to week. We have no idea what the point value is for any of the assignments. And his politics are showing.

If he makes one more "I don't hate gays, I just hate the lifestyle" comment I am seriously going to have to have it out with him. Two more classes left. I wish it was over already.

Waiting

I was just crawling through the Classmates.com pages to see if anyone else I want to get back in touch with has registered. And then I started thinking about high school -- a subject not very far from my mind these days as I prepare for student teaching and final certification.

High school is a bit of a blur for me. I don't remember the details all that well. Oh, here and there are some memories so clear it's like they just happened this morning. But for the most part, all I remember is general feelings. Mostly that was unhappiness and confusion. I never "got" high school. I wasn't interested in the stuff you're "supposed" to be interested in.

But if I had to put a theme to it -- I'm working on themes in my rewrite of the fantasy novel -- I'd say that it was more like the frustration of being in a holding pattern. Circling around and around but never being able to actually get to where I wanted to be. Sometimes I'd just repeat to myself over and over that it wouldn't last forever. Just wait it out. Just wait it out. Just wait it out.

And it wasn't all bad. I had a few great friends and had lots of laughs and too many of those pseudo-intellectual discussions that you can only be serious about when you are 17 years old.

But I spent a lot of time alone. I still do, of course. I'm comfortable being alone, but happiest when I'm with a few people I know and love. I'm miserable and nervous and lost in a crowd of people. I always feel like there's some code that I'm missing. Like the secret password into the club. I never know what to say and always chose exactly the wrong thing.

Ironically, dialogue is one of the strongest parts of my writing. Of course, there I have lot of time to try out different responses until I find the right one.

But anyway, back to the theme... Ten years after my high school graduation, I still feel like I'm waiting for something. To finish my Masters, to figure out what to do with my "marriageaphobic" boy... not that I'm stressed about marriage - quite the opposite. I'd just like to have kids while I'm still young enough to enjoy running after them. And I don't have any desire to be a single parent - too damn hard.

To wrap up: when I was little I used to say to my mom, "I've only got 10 patients (patience) and 9 of them are gone."

Of course, putting it into proportion...

I'm still alive and no one I know has died in a massive act of terrorism today.

That counts for something.

Some day I will actually earn a living wage. Until then, I'll just try to be happy with the living part, eh?

Just as I was starting to feel better...

Dropped my car off for the yearly safety and emissions inspection today. I knew the right turn signal had to be fixed, and the car needed some work, definitely. BUT. I was hoping not to have to get it done now.

However, whoever's in charge of granting wishes must be on vacation.

One of my motor mounts is broken. Yeah. This means my motor is shifting around while I'm driving. Not so safe.

Between the turn signal, the motor mount, and the A/C dial that's jammed... $600. And that's BEFORE I pay the registration fees. Probably another $100 on top of the repairs.

Since I'm just rolling in money right now, eh?

Sigh.

I would rather be sick again

I've got food poisoning. Anything that made it past my stomach completely liquified. Anything that didn't has been expelled.

I wish I could figure out what it was that did this to me, but in lieu of that, I will just never eat anything that I ate last night ever ever again.

At least I seem to be able to keep water down now... because Jay is out hiking and probably won't be home until 6pm or so. I'd hate for him to come home to find my dead, dried-up husk on the floor in the bathroom.

Speaking of bathroom.... running there now! Gah!

The things that excite me these days...

Took our laundry down to the usual place but it was closed for some kind of gas line maintenance. So I drove back home, flipped through the yellow pages, and found another one close to home.

Oh my goodness. So much nicer. And cheaper to boot. And air-conditioned with a friendly older woman running it instead of a couple college guys behind the counter. I'm switchin'. Oh boy.

Now I get to read Brown v. Board of Education and Plessy v. Ferguson before class tonight. Thank god I did all the text reading last night at work. Gah.

Sickies

Jay and I both woke up yesterday feeling wretched - the kind of sick that just sucks the life out of you and slaps you with a major headache - so we took the day off together. Mostly just laid about and slept or read, though we did manage a major push to drive to the grocery store since we had no fruit or good sickie food at home.

All things considered, it was actually rather nice.

Wha...wait a second.

It's Monday already? You know, this "work" thing makes my time disappear like mad. I'm too tired to post now... I'll try to get to it in the morning. Maybe.

Marriage and the LDS Church

For those of you not versed in Utah-speak, the LDS Church = Mormons.

The other night at the Inn we had a woman come in with her younger son to set up one of the suites for a private dinner. She was totally excited because her older son was getting engaged. (I think she's jonesing for grandkids...)

So, a few hours later Older Son shows up. Older Son is 21 years old. 21!! WTF!! The fiancée-to-be is 19. 19!!! Aaaaghhh! The worst thing is, this is completely normal for LDSers. Do they not look around and see all the 26 year old divorcées with two kids and think... hmmm, maybe I shouldn't rush in to this marriage thing. But for them (speaking generally and from my own personal observations) not being married by the time they hit 25 carries some horrible stigma and psychological burden.

As they were leaving, I said to Jean-Louis (our chef, who spends so much time in the lobby I have to wonder who is really cooking...) "They can't get married, they're babies!" And he just gives me the Gaullic shrug and says, "Yes, but zey are LDS. You know how it iz."

I'm afraid I do. And color me cynical, but at least when the divorce rolls around, the little missus will get a hefty settlement because the boy is LOADED.

Morons.

If you are going to have someone wait for 45 minutes in the exam room, half naked, turn off the fucking air conditioning. And don't express surprise when I'm not in the mood to be chatty when you finally do get around to me.

I'm not going back there next year, that's for damn sure.

An Afternoon Quickie

At the gym, that is. But, sticking with the insinuation, I just went out back to pick some tomatoes and noticed one of our zucchini plants... The plant in question has two zucchinis growing. One is sticking straight up. The other has curled itself around the base of the first. Yes, we have cock and ball zucchini, ladies and gentlemen. Somehow appropriate for Jay's garden. hee hee.

Crazy Week

Yes, this is the week when all the things I have been putting off finally come due. Car registration - which I won't pass right now because my right turn signal doesn't blink and my A/C-defog-vent dial is frozen to A/C. A/C is not very helpful when your windshield is fogged over. Nope. At least I got the new windshield yesterday. Damn thing. Replaced it in March and a couple weeks ago I was driving up the interstate when a giant rock pinged off a truck's tires and onto the bottom driver's side corner... where it proceded to go for a little run... across my field of vision. Thank goodness I carry comprehensive insurance, let's just say.

I need to call in to the "subfinder" voicemail system and figure out how the heck it works so I can start subbing. Though I'm not too worried about it because, c'mon, what kind of teacher misses school in the first week?

And tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment of my favorite variety. blech.

Blech.

Blech.

Sunday already?

It's been a busy weekend. This is the first day since Wednesday that I haven't had a huge list of errands to run and calls to make.

Yesterday was fun though. We went hiking in the morning - nothing too brutal - just a five mile loop up to Dog Lake and back down. Then mad grocery shopping and dinner prep. We made dinner for our friends who just had a baby. Figured that this way they could enjoy adult company and not have to worry about cooking or clean-up. Of course, they didn't tell us that they had invited 3 other people as well... Fortunately, they arrived with a healthy slab of Salmon to add to the food we brought. Also fortunately, we cooked more than we'd need with the idea of leaving leftovers for the new parents. There were no leftovers.

We had sole and salmon, brown and black rice, fresh zucchini from the garden, grilled red peppers, homemade bread, and homemade apple pie for dessert. Yum. Quite good and very colorful on the plates.

Of course, we also got a nice peek at the little one. Just twelve days old. He's got the longest fingers and toes I've ever seen... his dad's already planning out the musical career: piano and/or violin. They call him The Burrito because they fold him snugly in his blankets for bed like a little burrito with a baby's head on top. Yum. So cute. So tiny.

Did that just happen?

I think I just had a honest-to-goodness phone conversation with my dad. I mean - both of us got to talk, and there was actual listening on his end.

I have to go absorb the impact of this miracle.

Poésie

For my reading exericise presentation last Thursday, I used Victor Hugo's poem Demain, dès l'aube.... Of course, I provided a translation, but I read the poem in French so the group could get a feel for the rhythm and flow of the verse. The images Hugo uses in the poem just strike a chord with me. The middle verse in particular:

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos corbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et the jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

It's the last line especially that gets me. It just doesn't do the same in English - maybe because "Triste" has more impact than "Sad". Nonetheless, my translation:

I will walk with eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Seeing nothing outside, hearing not a single sound,
Alone, unknown, back bent, hands crossed,
Sad, and the day for me will be like the night.

Hugo wrote it on the fourth anniversary of his daughter Léopoldine's death, describing his journey to visit her grave.

Strangely, while I love poésie à la française, English-language poetry has almost always left me cold. Maybe it's the difference between the smooth rhythm of romance language versus the harshness of a more gutteral tongue.

Side effects

Hmmm. I seem to have developed one of the less common side effects of Wellbutrin: tinnitus. Ringing in the ears. It's not extreme. I only notice it in the morning when it's quiet or if I plug my ears. It is a wee bit annoying though. Fortunately, here at the computer I don't notice it at all because the hum of the monitor and the buzz of the upstairs A/C dominate.

In other unrelated news... Jay got home yesterday. I was so tired (and a little disappointed that he didn't wait up for me - I worked until 11) that things started off badly. So I called a do-over, left the room for a few minutes, and came back in. "Hi, hon, I'm home. How was your trip?" seemed to go over much better than my original opener.

Headspinning

Gah! I finished all the things on my "to do" list today. (I don't actually write them down, mind you. Not That Uptight.) Got fingerprinted - again, turned in all the paperwork for subbing, did laundry, changed sheets, put away clean laundry. Perhaps not very exciting, but very necessary from the clean underwear perspective.

And I still have 15 minutes before I need to leave for work.

But what makes this truly amazing is that I only got 4 crappy hours of sleep last night. I just cannot fall asleep when Jay is out of town. AAaagghh! So yes, I expect to pass out about half way through my shift tonight.

I wonder what the warning label means by "excessive caffiene"? As in, excessive caffiene intake may result in seizures... hmm.

Blogging after midnight... is this prudent?

I just realized that other than tonight at work, I haven't actually spoken to anyone since Friday. How does that happen? Oh yeah, that's right, I barely know anyone here.

Both of my friends who are my friends outside of the Jay-loop were moving this weekend. One into her boyfriend's apartment (after only 5 months of dating?!? Crazychild) and the other back up to Park City.

However, I did put the nonsocial time to good use. The apartment is shockingly clutter-free. And I've been rereading my manuscript for details - names, places, description, etc... and shuffling that all onto a spreadsheet. It's interesting the connections and twists that come to mind just looking at all the information. I finally figured out a connection that had been bothering me for a while (since I finished the first draft two years ago... two years, sigh) about how three characters knew each other from the past.

It's nice to feel my creativity start pumping again. Just think how much I could get done if I stopped reading for a couple weeks. (But that's too silly to think about - hah!)

Organization

I didn't start out to clean and organize all the junk in the apartment. I was looking for the manuscript of the first book I wrote so I can maybe start working on it again.

Naturally, I found it in the last unsorted corner in the apartment - all 473 pages of it. Meanwhile, I now have three newly dejunked, cleaned, and sorted closets. Wait until Jay comes home from Ft. Collins and sees this. Hah hah!

Of course, now that I've unearthed the thing, I guess this means I actually have to start writing again. Maybe I will start organizing that stuff before diving in. That way, perhaps I can stay coherent and not babble for pages and pages about total drivel.

I mean, if I want to write drivel, I come here, right?

I'm melting, I'm melting!

Quick, someone turn off the heat! It's "only" 97ºF but the sun is relentless.

Hmm... well, at least we still have power, unlike a huge chunk of the East Coast. I can't even imagine being in a major city when BOOM everything turns off. NOT a good time to be in the elevator, for instance.

I'm sure there will be interesting stories abounding in the next few days.

Drugs

Hmmm... do American doctors over-prescribe drugs? Duh, of course they do. At least, some of them do.

My poor friend KB ended up so medication saturated our senior year of college that she barely knew which way was up. Her stupid shrink had her on not only anti-depressants, but anti-psychotics. Hello? WTF? And do you know how bad and chemically anti-psychotics make you smell? FUN-KY. Funkyass bad, that's how. Not that I would have wanted her totally off drugs either. As it was we were having to hide all the knives and we never let her drink out of a breakable glass after the incident with the bottle. Oy.

But for most people, drugs are not the end all solution. Just a stepping stone out of the dungeon, to be used until they get back in the sunlight, so to speak. I know Wellbutrin usually takes 3-4 weeks to fully kick in, but I'm already starting to feel like I have my brain back. Kind of like walking outside after working indoors all morning and realizing how dim your building really is...

Anyway - I have homework that I've procrastinated. Shocking, I know.

Family History

Everytime I think my life is sucking, I just have to talk to my younger brother to see how it's really not as bad as it could be. Ggaaaahhh.

Let me just say as a brief, thoroughly incomplete overview, that the years 1990-1996 were really quite ugly chez nous. Dad drinking and smoking, Mom sleeping on the couch, brother getting arrested, me just wanting OUT but worried about the munchkins. Happily, this is no longer remotely the case. A few wakeup calls (ie: heartattacks) caused reevaluation of what was truly important and what was just fluff. All are much happier, but the damage of the Ugly Years can't be totally erased.

Mental Illness - of the depressive and bipolar varieties - run, if not heavily, then consistently, on both sides of the family. Crazy Great Aunt Joy liked to walk to the store naked in her manic phases... My grandmother didn't leave the house for 4 years after my mother was born... My father = classic bipolar in denial... his father, a sloppy sad drunk who undoubtedly had the same underlying issues. I could keep going, but I'll spare you. And myself.

Unfortunately, my brother seems to have inherited my dad's issues. What's worse is that he knows he has a problem and should get help for it. But he has this aversion to medication - his ex-girlfriend got really zombified on Prozac so I suppose I would be cautious if I were him as well. But. Self-medicating with copious amounts of alcohol and pot are not going to help him either.

So there's another reason I want the whole Wellbutrin thing to work out for me. If it works for me and I can show Bubby Rubby that I am not a zombie as a result, then maybe I can talk him into getting some help also.

Slowly rolling along

Signed up to sub at SL district. Tomorrow I will pick up an application for the Academy on the way to work. Had a nice lazy morning otherwise... read a book, ate some of the blueberry muffins that Jay made yesterday, deposited money into my sad little checking account...

But I think I need some caffiene. It's too damn hot out there and I feel a headache coming on.

Decisions

I'm still waiting to hear about the teaching job. BUT. I've decided not to take it even if they do offer it to me. I can't start something that energy-intensive until I settle into some measure of emotional stability. So on Monday I will go and sign up for substitute teaching at the Salt Lake school district and also up at the Park City Academy (close to home and close to work, respectively).

Now I think I'll have some breakfast and go to the gym. Exercise can only help, eh?

Frickin Ijits

Okay - I think thursday was an all time low (at least since moving here). First the antidepressant issue -- which was met with less than total support from the boy. Then I went to the eye doctor and the assistant chick who did the preliminary exam and put the drops in my eyes was less than good. She told me that I didn't have an astigmatism (which I do, and which is the reason I get prescription reading glasses) and that I should just get a pair of weak reading glasses at Fred Meyer instead. Then she put more eye drops in my right eye than my left. I get home and notice that my right eye vision is really blurry, look in the mirror... I look like a head injury case: my left pupil it almost back to normal but the right was completely blown. Trippy.

clarification: When I got to see the real opthamologist he checked my eyes, wrote out a prescription, and said, "Normally, I'd say you didn't need prescription lenses, but you have an astigmatism and that's probably the source of your headaches." This is why I don't listen to assistants.

So yeah, between the crying and the brutal eye drops, my head felt goooood. Or not.

A prescription for Wellbutrin

That's what I came home with from my doctor's appointment this morning. I know my doctor was right - I am depressed and have been for a while - but part of me feels like I shouldn't be. Though, of course, why shouldn't I?

The clincher was pretty much when she said that the best description she had ever heard for depression was the greek word for it (which I can't remember anymore) that translates as "absence of joy" and I burst into tears. I hate crying in front of people and she was so nice that it only made me cry more. Love that.

And I have to say what a relief it was for someone to take me seriously and not just say "it's all in your head".

And the waiting commences

Just got home from the interview. Good news, bad news. Good news: I think the interview went very well. Bad news: the district office scrambled my information so that the principal didn't know that I wasn't yet certified to teach. I will be as of April, so it's not totally undoable, but if the other applicants are equally good AND they are already certified, it won't go my way.

However, regardless of whether or not I get the position, it was good experience just going to the interview. And I can always substitute teach if it doesn't work out.

Now, I am going back to bed because I barely slept at all last night.

OHMIGOD!!!

I just got off the phone with one of junior high schools - they are looking for a French teacher. I have an interview tomorrow morning.

I so can't believe this.

I'm so nervous. Aaaaggghhh!!!

And other things go BOOM

Things have been blowing up all over the place at the writing site I frequent. Forward Motion The site owner's blog, by the way, is the source for my upset over education commentary.

I'm not excited about the way things have turned out. I've been less and less active since Bryn and Jen left the site last year... mostly because I disagreed with Holly's responses to their posts and some assumptions that were made regarding off-site posts. However, I've been watching the site since Spring of 1999 when it existed as a series of articles written by Holly. It's gone through 3 incarnations of forums since then, with an ever-increasing number of members. AND, for all my discomfort with the way some situations and people have been handled, I have to admit that the site has stayed admirably true to its stated purpose: helping writers improve their writing.

So, other than this statement on my private blog, I am going to continue to keep my mouth shut and get what I can from the site and leave the rest by the wayside.

First day

So tired. Must be brief.

Last night - class until 10pm. Home by 10:15pm. College friend in from out of town who left this morning for Vegas. Talked until 11:45pm. Said goodnight to friend in guest room. Got naked with boyfriend in own room (for conversation purposes only of course). Went to sleep 12:30am. Got up at 5:40am. Showered. Got dressed. Made coffee. Drank coffee on way to work. Stayed at work until 4:15pm. Got home 5pm. Slept until 6pm. Still groggy.

Coherence to follow. Maybe.

When faced with Anger

Note Anger with a capital "A".

Every once in a while I'll read a post on a blog that's so packed with anger and venom that I know better than to respond because nothing I say will penetrate the red haze. Any argument I make will be torn to shreds and discredited simply because it's not spouting the party line. I grew up in a similar environment - with my Dad - and I learned to choose my battles. When he was in a relaxed mood, we could argue religion, politics, culture, or family relations in a constructive, informative manner. When he was in one of his ranting modes, duck and cover was the only safe response. Unless you felt like being verbally crushed into the ground...

Education is one of my passions. I believe - however naively - that I can make a difference in the public school system. Maybe not for every student, but for enough of them. How many is enough? One. Just one. Well, maybe one a year. I'm not greedy, see.

Homeschooling is not for everyone. Some parents don't have the education themselves to assist their children. Utah has one of the highest percentages of homeschooled children in the US. Why? Because there is still a large, if quiet, population of traditionalist (polygynist) Mormon families in this state. Homeschooling allows them to keep their children isolated from mainstream culture. Is that a good thing? Well, I suppose it depends which side of the Temple you're standing on.

Public education is not to blame for all the ills of our country. Public schools, at least in Utah, are not brainwashing children to be Liberal parrots. (Quite the opposite, in fact). Not all teachers are stupid, illiterate bumpkins who can't find another job.

How are the parents who don't support their children's education in the school system supposed to homeschool these same children? Half the problems with the schools today result from the lack of parental and community support. If you expect something to fail, it usually won't disappoint you.

So maybe I'll just young and foolish and don't know what I am talking about. And maybe I would think differently if I had children of my own. And maybe not.

And BOOM click

I am employed. Only part time, 2-4 days a week. But. It's at the beautiful Goldener Hirsch Inn. 20 rooms, totally gorgeous, super expensive, friendly staff. My new boss is the cutest little girl. I say little, because I'm only 5'5" and I towered over her.

She says she never just hires people on the spot, but we just clicked. Anyway, I'm excited, even if it is only part time.

Hmmm...

Well, at least the pictures posted well. Went on another interview this morning. Not sure I want to work there, though. I'd be the youngest by about 15 years or more. Place just seemed a bit too stiff for me.

This afternoon though, I have an interview at this place for a front desk supervisor position. It would be a bit of a commute, but the scenery is gorgeous and a business hotel it ain't.

And I'm in a better mood also because last night I finally prodded at the boy until he spit out what was really bothering him. Damn cranky self-sufficient over-achieving nimrod. Oy. Like squeezing milk from a stone. I know, I know. It's the Y chromosome - it blocks the communication gene.

Wedding Present

So... Jay took these pictures of the wedding gift I made for Dave and Sharon. Hopefully they will look okay here. But I suppose there's only one way to find out.

Jay makes tea and I like to paint stuff, so together we put together this tea box with some basic ingredients and tea recipes. Chamomile, Peppermint, Licorice, and Lemongrass as base flavors. Cloves, Orange Peel, Lemon Peel, Fenugreek, Cardamom, Cinnamon, Fennel, and Catnip as additional flavors.

You know what?

I just don't want to talk about it, okay?

And now I sound like a fecking Canadian, phrasing everything in the form of a question? No one wants to hire me? I can't even pay my bills? Time to go play in traffic, eh?

Blech

Survived the wedding weekend. Actually not as horrific as I had anticipated. (How could it have been?)

But. Today... two job interviews, two more strike outs. Haven't heard back from the consulting company.

Now I must run out and fax my resume to five more people who won't want to hire me.

Sigh.

Off to see the wedding...

...the wonderful wedding of Oz, uh, Long Island. Yeah. Back Sunday night - try not to miss me. Hah.

Helpful tips

If you are running low on gas, in the middle of the summer, in triple-digit heat, don't forget to fill up before stopping at home to pick something up.

I just walked 2 miles round trip in 103 degree F heat (that's something like 41 degrees celsius). With a gas can. Naturally, the way back with the full gas can was all uphill.

Crap, I can't stop shaking. Must replace electrolytes. Gasp.

What does this mean?

I had a dream last night that I had a baby. Yes, scary enough on its own. But what was really disturbing was that the baby had a neon green forked tongue.

Yeah, I know. Maybe I shouldn't reproduce.