I guess that the e-mail at school is faulty...funny. I was just standing next to the teacher of a class and I knew it was him, but I didn't ask. And then he called my phone, and it turns out, I was right. Oh I am so psychic :-)

There are people who walk around this campus. Young men with toys they play with, and they aren't quite grown up yet, but they will grow up eventually. They'll go to business meetings, they will fit in at those board room meetings. No one will make comments about their femininity, youthful appearance, and such things will not be an issue, and I envy it. They will be "one of the boys" and I guess they've always been "one of the boys."

Sometimes, they remind me a little of myself, but not in this incarnation.

Well, back to school.

I was fairly pscyhed I was going to get to teach in a certain course this semester. I even read most of the books over the summer, and was making plans for my sections in the fall. But--I got suddenly switched into T.A.ing for a new class! Now, my schoolmates are all like: You're T.A.ing with who? But I thought he wasn't allowed to have female T.A.s...Well, apparently, I get to be the strike-breaking exception! (No other women T.A.s beside myself.) How fortunate.

Actually, though, I met him. And really, I don't get the feeling that his supposed propensity sexist comments/alleged wandering eye and whatnot will really be all THAT exceptional. Afterall, I am an experienced and worldly young woman who has already witnessed a fair amount of chauvanism and lewdness being conducted in many places, including in some prestigious doctors' boardrooms.

Ha, ha, ha.

Also, I met the girl they put in to replace me. (Or booted me out for, more bluntly). She just graduated. She's nervous because all her students will be her age, she wants to bake cookies for them on the first day, and confided that she has a terrible propensity for tripping over her own shoelaces.

Um, why???

Also, apparently everyone but me can meet at a certain time tomorrow for a certain class I'm taking, unless of course they can all meet at the same time and I can't, in which case...and the secretary person just shrugged her shoulders

*Insert sour-faced emoticon*

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

The Richmond Dairy Apartments

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Back to the land of apple trees

Its about time to make the long haul to upstate NY. Today's tasks: pack, clean out car. I still have old student evaluations in an envelope in the backseat. Just remembering that I didn't give any solid As last semester...oh well, c'est la vie... :-D

Last night's weird dream: My friends and I went back to a city near the ocean, and water ran under the streets, but not with big waves, and it was water the people could swim in! (Not like a sewer or anything.) My friends would jump into one hole and swim and pop up another like a jack-in-the-box. They looked so cute, like urban mermaids. I tried to take pictures but my camera didn't work so I had to run into a store and buy another one. I thought I walked out without paying it but then I found the receipt and it proved that I had, I just didn't remember paying for it. Then I was all set to take pictures. But I found out that one friend had just gone to a relative's house and they were going to look at a school she might attend. I tried to convince the other friend to go back to the swimming holes, but she wasn't in the mood for it.

Not all of the fun moments can be caught on camera.

Highlights of this Summer

(in addition to those already mentioned in previous posts)

-My aunt's wedding in Talkeetna, Alaska. Reuniting with family, hiking in the mountains, and walking on a glacier.

-A trip with grad school friends to Vermont in which we slept over at the home of the poet, Ruth Stone. And washed the NPR people's dishes.

-My cat's funky lion hair cut.

Poor Cats

So, I was talking to the cats about the benefits of my sister's departure. "Isn't it great to have her gone? Look, now you have a big room sleep in!" (Less cat hair on my bedspread, too, I secretly thought.) What a great idea! Until my stepfather said "don't make any plans for that room." My mom might have to move into it, because of the divorce laws in this state. Sounds complicated. I'm not entirely sure if the cats will be very understanding...

Obscure Literary Quip

I'm about to go back to school and mingle with all the brilliant literary scholars. In order to get myself back into the mindset, I've got to come up with an amusing and obscure literary quip.

Quip: "Too bad Mother Sawyer didn't have access to Preparation H!"

Get it???

(See Dekker, Ford and Rowley's The Witch of Edmonton)

I want to investigate things like: Watsu, TCM, various alternative health therapies. I used to work (in a rather underling position) with lots of doctors...they definitely were not interested in those things.

At a yoga retreat a few months back (the only one I've ever gone to) I suddenly got very ill. Another girl, a stranger, helped me out and took me to the hospital. We spoke a lot in the car. She said that her mother was a doctor, described how drug companies courted people like her mother, and said that it bothered her alot. This person impressed me. She was very disciplined about her lifestyle...much more than I have been about mine.

My sister just left. Said bye, wiped her eyes, and left. Dog looks depressed. No more flyball tournaments.

I was soooo down yesterday. But in the evening I went with 2 friends to a water aerobics class, and afterwards, one of them taught me the backstroke. I felt much more buoyant in the water! And then we watched Aaron Piersol get a gold medal (almost disqualified, but they decided to give it to him) for the backstroke. And its fun to watch Michael Phelps, 'cause he's kind of a local :-) Also enjoyed watching the American female gymnast win the all around.

And now, I'm going over to a friend's house. We're going to watch a movie and make jewelry.

untitled

I think my inner two year old is resurfacing. I keep remembering dreams I had in the spring about big tidal waves hitting airports. Good bye, small blue room and half closet. Soon, you will be repainted, the house will be sold, its former inhabitants scattered to various states...

sometimes sadness
is pretty

sometimes
its just a pout

First link in my blog

The is a website address/portfolio of a rather talented friend of mine from highschool:

www.kidbombay.com

We live on opposite coasts so who knows when we'll next talk to each other. But he returned a phone call the other day and, gosh darn it, I appreciate that :-)

I've been having disturbing dreams relating to divorce. This is par for the course. I have never played golf.

strange beauty

Sometimes, after someone has undergone an experience of tremendous sadness, he/she will look very beautiful afterwards.

I saw a girl once at a party who had just broken up with her fiancee. When you spoke to her, she said she was in great pain and didn't even want to be there. But to look at her! Her hair seemed more beautiful, her eyes sparkled, her whole being seemed 100 times more radiant...but of all of this, she was completely unaware. And when you told her, she didn't believe it.

Insomnia

I think certain family traits are surfacing. A slight touch of OCD. I think I'm becoming (temporarily) obsessed with clothes. (My clothes obsessed English teacher aunt would be proud of me).

For much of my life I have been totally happy going around in a floppy t-shirt and jeans. But, since my friend got me to buy that light/bright outfit, the mall is suddenly looking like a fun and creative place! I can't sleep because I'm thinking of ways to brighten my wardrobe...for example: dark green pants with all the zippers, a brown camisole....brighten it by adding an off the shoulder sheer pink top with sparkly butterfly accessory attached! Which I didn't buy! Because I'm not sure if the cheap looking sparkly thing would fly (since I'm no longer a teenager) unless I go to a club.

Going out costs money! Credit cards get one into debt! Dedicating my time to some sort of financial management course and meditation would probably be much more sensible. But tomorrow and Thursday I already made plans with people to go shopping (ka-CHING!) and dancing. Well, thats okay. Afterall, once I'm in school again my social life will probably revert back to budget-friendly researching, writing, grading PAPERSPAPERS&MOREPAPERS and watching the occasional DVD.

posted by....an IN-SOM-NI-AC.........

Do I sound snotty about my cat? I love my cat. I call him "brat" affectionately.

Sardine Breath

My sister, the budding archeologist, has taken to eating sardines cause apparently, thats what they do on digs. She just gave my kitty cat the remnants of the sardine tin.

Great. I'm soooo happy that tonight, when he sleeps on my bed, he's gonna have SARDINE BREATH.

The small back room where my sister washes artifacts used to have an old man living in it, and they think its haunted.

We need to celebrate Max's birthday. If we do it for the dogs, we do it for the cat, I say. Especially because he's seventeen! This might be his last.

I HAVE A NEW HOBBY

I collect body exfoliating sugar scrub containers.

MRS. HANES MORAVIAN SUGAR COOKIES

will be featured on the Food Network's "Food Finds" on September 7th 2004. (Coincidentally, that's an ex-boyfriend's birthday, and two weeks before my birthday!) The show will air at 2 p.m. and I heartily approve. In honor of my Moravian ancestors, Grandmama's genes, PCOS, "the weak trembles," hypoglycemia, cavities and health insurance companies. From the bottom of my potentially insulin resistant little heart :-)

Can you make sad tango faces?
the man asked.
I'm good at pouting
she replied.

Gospel Chicken

Went to the "Gospel Chicken House" last night (an old chicken house converted to a venue in Montpelier, Virginia) and saw two groups play blue grass music and sing gospel songs acapella. I think a banjo can sound surprisingly like a sitar :-)

In the back of the Gospel Chicken House there was a bathroom, and while I was in there I eavesdropped on the conversation of several little girls. (One was also named "Alison.") One of these girls sounded like a bit of a bossy-older-sister type "Hey guys, let me show you something. See this last piece of toilet paper here? If you want to use it..." "We know, we know!" the other girls chorused, so I never got to hear the secret of How To Use The Last Piece of Toilet Paper.

They also told a joke:

"Say milk five times fast."
"Milk. Milk. Milk. Milk. Milk."
"What does a cow drink?"
"Milk."
"No. Water!"
~giggle~

It reminded me of the time I spent with my sister and two childhood best friends (sisters) who lived in upstate NY.

Before we went to the Gospel Chicken House, I met up with a friend from Richmond and we did a little exploring of the town of Fredericksburg. We met outside of a restaurant close to Fredericksburg and 95. I parked by a car with a NY plate, which said that they were from Patchogue. I waited to see if they'd come out before my friend came, since my uncle lives in that town, but they never did. The windows of their vehicle were rolled down and some stuffed animals inside were getting rained on.

Exit 130B at Fredericksburg/Culpepper has a nice Border's Bookstore that can make a convenient meeting spot between D.C. and Richmond - FYI, the Welcome Center is NOT accessible from both sides of 95!

Grouse

As I was merrily typing away, a George Mason professor on television talked to some students about melanoma. In the car's rearview mirror, I noticed (for about the third time in 2-3 days) what looks suspiciously like a new mole on my right cheekbone. That cheekbone was sunburned last week! I don't think my insurance covers trips to the dermatologist. Grrrrr.....

Walked home after being informed that there would be a bit of a wait for the oil change. I noticed a bunch of children sitting in a daycare center parking lot, and then two fire engines pulled up. Some firemen got out and went inside. No smoke, no one seemed to be hurt.

I hate going to the doctor. They always want to put you on these freaking medications that your insurance (if you're me) doesn't cover. (That never seems to apply to old men who need Viagra, though!) Why can't I just swallow a bottle of flower essences and be done with it.

Light Bright Day

was yesterday. I got my hair straightened for the first time, and wore a pale orange top and a floral print skirt with the fabric cut in lots of different shapes going every which way with a whole variety of colors in it-white, yellow, pale orange, pink, tan, brown. AND a little matching scarf. It is, indeed, the lightest, brightest outfit I have ever purchased.

After getting dressed/made up, we went into Giant to buy a camera and bumped into another friend's hot, exotic dancer sister. She had two guys with her, of course, and they were TOTALLY checking us out. We went to another friend's house. Since she was totally checking us out, I offered to pose with her. I also took a couple of pictures of my friend discussing the finer points of my appearance. We went to a very cool Middle Eastern restaurant called Neyla's in Georgetown, which has the best strained yogurt cheese I've ever tasted. I noticed that, even though the guy at the table next to us was on a date, he was TOTALLY checking us out.

For dessert, I ordered a pear poached in white wine, dipped in chocolate, drizzled with pistachio cream sauce and served with a scattering of berries. I said, "This is almost as good as the lemonade we had at the beach!" "Whoa..." (In Ocean City I order a fresh squeezed lemonade and told my friend how good it made me feel to drink it, sitting in the wind and the sun on the boardwalk, it gave me little sweet and sour chills, "this really makes you live in the moment," I told her. She said, "Maybe I should give you and your lemonade a little privacy!")

We left the cute waiter a splendid tip.

PINK

Ah summer. No job. Free day with nothing to do but what I choose.

My dance instructor friend is supposed to come over tonight. She wants to "make me over." Put some bright colors on me. (Inspired by a trip we took on Monday, to Ocean City.) Can you handle pink? she asks. I think I prefer melon or peach, actually. I have an infected bug bite which is very pink. My mom said I should take a Benadryl, cause the reason its so itchy is because of an allergic reaction and "histamines" and Benedryl is an antihistamine....

Highschool

At Theology on Tap, the speaker's topic was "Relationships." She said that some people have beer stein sized capacity for emotions, talking, feelings, etc. And some people have shot glass sized capacity. Then, some people have wine glass sized capacity. (But she says they're fooling themselves. She told us that she is a beer stein.) Not like I can relate to that at all (ha ha)...sometimes, I feel like asking, hey, excuse me, but did my beer pitcher full of ideas/emotions/whatever that I just dumped out overwhelm your empty shot glass? But of course, I'm probably a shot glass too (sometimes.)

The speaker also made a lot of references to highschool. "I realize you all aren't in highschool anymore but..."

Highschool memory:

I was with a small group of friends at Shoney's. A blindingly attractive young man sat across from me and sipped his coffee. We were all about 16 or 17. He told us about the first time he had sex (on a kitchen counter). I knew the girl; she was short, pretty, thin, stylish, large breasted, flirtatious. I met her on the first day of school; shortly thereafter, she told me that she was obsessed with death. She said that she was attracted to this guy, more than she was to her sort of boyfriend. Her sort of boyfriend visited her in the hospital after she O.D.ed and said "I try to keep telling you that you should love yourself, but you won't listen." The blindingly attractive guy felt bad because they broke the sink.

Maybe he wasn't all that blindingly attractive. I could be exaggerating, for effect.

The other day, some friends and I found some pictures of ourselves from freshman year of college. "Look how thin we were! You look amazing. Wow. I was hot! Isn't it funny how so and so looks so different from when we were in highschool? And so and so looks older, but almost exactly the same..."

The Flight Attendant's Refrain (a blatant rip off)

Uh huh?
Uh huh?

Club soda?
Uh huh?

Coffee?
Diet Coke?

Sure?
Sure?

SalsaSalsaSalsa!

On Wednesday, I went salsa dancing at Zanzibar's on the waterfront (in D.C.) with 2 female friends (one was/is a ballroom dance instructor and the other is a massage therapist). My massage therapist friend, who was wearing jeans, a skimpy purple top with a string tie in the back, and open toed shoes, was turned away at the door. ("No Jeans" rule). Solution: retrieve a pair of white taekwondo pants from the car, turn them inside out so to conceal the lettering on the sides, and tuck the waist band/draw string inside. Voila! Sans jeans, we had no pockets between the three of us. Since I was the only one wearing a brassiere, thats where our IDs and some of the money went. My friend used a hair tie and the draw string on her taekwondo pants to secure the car key and her money. (See how innovative we are? Sometimes we put those things in our shoes, too-not keys though-but you can't do that in open toed shoes.)

On Saturday I went out with a friend of the dance instructor. Very good dancer and a nice guy, but I think I'm comfortable with just being friends with him. However, I have someone in mind I'd like to introduce him to (A little matchmaking might be fun!) He's Catholic. This other friend of mine (Catholic) has another (Catholic) friend, and they invited me, (their non-Catholic friend) to go with them to something called "Theology on Tap" which is where you go to happy hour at a bar and then someone Catholic, (sometimes a priest, but sometimes not) gives a talk with a Q/A session afterwards. This girl is single and I think she's interested in meeting someone. She likes to dance formally as well (used to do some Irish dancing) and I just wonder if they might hit it off...

CATHOLICS

My mom converted to Catholicism when she was a young woman (baptized and confirmed) but she was never married by a priest and did not practice it very much when I was growing up. My religious upbringing was mostly influenced by my Grandma on my Dad's side of the family. (That would be Missouri Senate Lutheran.) However, as a child in upstate NY, I attended many religious services with my 2 best friends, who were Irish American/Catholic. My stepfather is Catholic, and my 2 best friends from Virginia are both Italian American Catholics (originally from Long Island). I got my first degree from a Jesuit University. I even almost married a Peruvian Catholic when I was 22! Really, if there were such a thing as an honorary Catholic, I'd be it, so you'd think I wouldn't forget whether my fingers are supposed to go to the left or right shoulder when I cross myself! There was that time when I was taking religious instruction and participated in a ceremony, but wasn't allowed to drink the grape juice with the other kids...maybe since then, all those rituals make me feel sort of like a nervous outsider...I wonder if I'll have cross myself at Theology on Tap? I should write a Gen-Xy editorial on the position of the outsider in a catholic culture...Is it right-left or left-right...

In Virginia my room is small, with blue walls and a half closet. When the blinds aren't drawn, there is a view of the neighbor's driveway with a basketball hoop. My parents (mother and stepfather) will be separating in the fall. Furniture will be removed, and the room will be repainted in case they decide to sell the house. But by then, I will be living in New York again. In my life, this has already happened before. I don't really know all the logistics, for example who will the pets live with? I'm not particularly apt to ask a lot of questions...

Yesterday, I went to the video store and found a comedy about a guy who falls for the cousin of his fiancee. "A Guy Thing." The clerk read the title aloud amusedly to himself, making me feel all squirmy inside. It is set in Seattle, and there are many shots of the Space Needle in it, and the movie features Julia Stiles, who was also in Seattle while making the movie "Ten Things I Hate About You." My friend Charity was an extra in that movie. Several years ago, she wrote an essay about her experience, and sent it to me. It is probably still in my desk or else shoved into a corner of the blue bedroom somewhere...

Long Beach Long Island Long Post!

I think I love FitLinxx. Too bad they don't have it at my school. Today, it said: you have lifted 15, 430 lbs. Really??? Are they lying to me? Hah! (Since I'm a beginner that looks pretty impressive to me) It felt good, because this weekend was the weekend of eating...

Impromptu Trip to Long Beach, Long Island

FRIDAY
After only 6 hours of driving (rumor has it that sometimes you can get there in close to 4), we pulled up to a tall, yellow stucco house with a stained glass window and multi-colored turret. We unloaded our stuff, then went out to a diner with my friend's grandparents, where I saw something called a "Mulberry Sandwich" on the menu and wondered why there weren't any mulberries in it. (I think I stumbled across the answer last night when I opened a guide book and discovered that "Mulberry St." runs through Little Italy). Oh, wait I have to stop writing this because there is a beagle nose nudging me reminding me its dinner time...OKAY OKAY OKAY...

So anyway, (dogs are fed) we went to the beach and took pictures of each other on the life guard stand, drank wine, got some icecream. Then we were about to go to bed, but my friend's cousin showed up, so two of us accompanied him to a place called The Mirage (in Westbury?) which my friend said was "full of Guidos and Goombas" (I guess she can say it since she's Italian American) On the dance floor, they unleashed confetti--little bits of foam that quickly melted after touching your hair.

SATURDAY--wake up, it's a gorgeous day, listen to the Atlantic ocean through the open bedroom windows (a new experience for me!) walk to a deli, order breakfast (something called a Tom Clancy Sandwich, which is a wrap with egg whites, turkey and swiss) then - off to the beach! It was pretty nice, though crowded. Unfortunately, the lifeguards pulled everyone out of the water in the mid-afternoon because there was too much trash in it...but we laid on a big sheet and read some books. I borrowed mine from my friend and forgot what it was called, but it was a book of prose and had a blurb on the back with Charles Simic endorsing it. It was a reddish pink color. Eventually my skin turned the color of the book cover...

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We went to a yard sale before we went to the beach. Two female mannequin heads, halfway sunk into rectangular trimmed hedges, gazed eerily from the foliage, and although we bought nothing, my friends took several photos...

After applying liberal doses of aloe gel to our sunburns, we went out to "the club" in Rockville Center with my friend's grandparents. Raw oysters, stuffed squash blossoms, a glass of chardonnay, soft shell crabs, a few bites of gnocchi, a smoked tomato (oh my god did we ever stop eating??) And since I asked, my friend's grandfather told the story of the time he went for "a ride" with Lucky Luciano.

(When he was a kid, Lucky Luciano's girlfriend thought he was adorable. They took him to a bar - or a speakeasy since it was during Prohibition. At one point he was dancing on the counter top in front of the patrons. His mother had heard about what happened and went looking for him She found asleep in the back of a car!! She got him out and brought him home. The next day, when Lucky Luciano came around again, Mama gave him hell! "I'm sorry Mrs. Biscelgia, we didn't mean any harm, he wanted to come with us...")

Post gorge-fest, three girls with hot shoulders and full bellies squeezed into the back of the car and sang "Blue Moon" in honor of (what else) the blue moon. There was talk of going out and getting moon tattoos, but we were too sunburned. Instead, we went out for Italian ices and walked around to several bars (note: some of them don't let you in unless you're 23) I met some people who know of my school in Binghamton. ("Awww...you go there? My sister goes there. You live off campus? She lives near a bunch of crack houses. We tell her, good luck, don't get killed!" said one person, who, along with his friends - including a guy with a mysterious obsession with Nashville, Tennessee - had just gotten kicked out of a bar.)

Just around the corner from the yellow stucco house is a bar called "Shines," which my friend's grandparents used to go to 50 years ago. It was decorated with a lot of old "No Irish Allowed" signs. The people in this bar were very friendly, but when I told a guy that I also went to school (as an undergrad) in Seattle, he said "New York to Seattle? You went from culture to no culture! Good thing the rain didn't kill you!" (Uh...actually I do think Seattle has some culture! I thought.) I ordered a L. I. iced tea but it was too strong, so then I just had a bourbon and ginger. As the evening wore on, I noticed that my friends were reverting back to their childhood accents!

SUNDAY raining morning, we walked across the street and went to Mass. I'm not Catholic, but I I tried to genuflect and cross myself at appropriate times...went back to the same diner for lox and bagels (this seemed so "New York"), bought cannoli at a bakery, and drove through a dairy barn (a drive through convenience store). By the time we left it was 2 p.m. After a few minor screaming incidents, we were out of NY and on the Jersey Turnpike, but because of traffic (and yes, because I had to pee) we pulled off so we could stop and get some pizza. There I tested one of my friends theories (she said that if I ate food with a lot of sodium we wouldn't have to stop to go to the bathroom so much. Hah! Actually it kind of worked, but I also didn't drink any caffeine and barely any water. I was thirsty.)

Once more, I scrunched myself into the backseat of her little black and white Mini Cooper, next to most of our stuff, and we were on our way back to the Turnpike. We found it, eventually, but unfortunately, it turned out to be the Penna Turnpike. So, we took a nice scenic route through Philly and hit more traffic on 95...a mere 8 hours after leaving Long Beach, we finally made it back to Springfield. (Moral of story: it pays to leave early). "Hello my beautiful car," I said, as I shoved my bags into the roomy, dented 95 Taurus, adorned with 2 Mary Prankster stickers, a blue mirror that doesn't match the grayish-gold paint on the rest of the body, and a "Simplify, Simplify" bumper sticker...

Overall the trip was a great success. And the food was great. But, the tolls aren't cheap!!

Maybe "Y" stands for "Yahweh" ;-)

(see Sesame St. post)

I want a fried stuffed squash blossom.

My friend told just me about this Irish Catholic faith healer staying with her mom's friend. He is called the Seventh Son of the Seventh Son because there were no girls born for 7 sons for his father, and then he was also the 7th son of his father with no girls born in between. Why is THAT so remarkable? I wonder...

Sesame St.

As Nora Jones sat at a piano waiting for her friend, Letter Y, to show up, she became rather sad and sang "I don't know why Y didn't come..."

Elmo asked "What's wrong?" Nora Jones was like, "Me and my friend Y used to always have a great time and sing songs together, and he was supposed to meet me today, but I guess he forgot. Oh well, I guess Y doesn't want to be friends anymore" But Elmo said: "no look, Y's here!" And Y was waving his arms behind her.

My friend told us about this as we drove back to Virginia from Long Island. I said "That is so cute." Sigh....

Hoy Dia...

Its raining in Virginia and I still have no summer job :-) For the great dane's 5th birthday, my mother is making tomato sauce with hot peppers, spaghetti, gnocchi (which I don't remember her ever making before--actually its premade, she said she got it at the commissary) and a pineapple upside cake. I just called one of my friends to tell her, because we (me and two friends) just got back from visiting her grandparents on Long Beach, LONG ISLAND, NY, where we all got sunburnt, and they served gnocchi at the club which her grandparents belong to.

It is okay to end sentences with prepositions in a blog, that I know of.