"Their love is gentle and discreet. If it were a plant it would be a fern, light green and feathery and delicate; if a musical instrument, a flute. If a painting it would be a water lily by Monet, one of the more pastel renditions, with its liquid depths, its reflections, its different falls of light."
The Robber Bride
At this time in my life, I am the verge of many edges. I going to graduate soon, and while in the past, I have been hesitant to finish school, I now feel ready. It is time to step out of the familiar and safe world of Gamble and into a paid position where I actually have to be a grown-up. I also feel like I am on the verge of ending a long-term, but unhealthy relationship. I am both excited and afraid of this prospect, but like school, I think I am ready to move on. I am very bad at meeting guys, well not meeting them, but once I meet them I cannot seem to feel comfortable with any type of "romantic talk." I am fine as long as I am the one doing the flirting, but I get scared as soon as the flirting is returned (not too often).
I was thinking about this when we were reading The Robber Bride. One of the characters accepts her flawed relationship, I think, because she feels that it is safe and comfortable. She will not be asked to give anything that she cannot, and so she stays and feels safe. But I wonder if she is really happy and in love, or just comfortable. I guess my concern is that I will die alone, or I will never find anyone I feel comfortable with. Is a light, feathery love enough?
Friday, March 31, 2006
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
More Fun Than A Barrel of Monkeys
I am so excited about a new web site that I found that I wanted to share it with all of you immediately. It's an online tool for cataloging your books. It is totally unnecessary, but extraordinarily exciting. Bibliophiles (AKA Nerds, enjoy!)
http://www.librarything.com/index.php
http://www.librarything.com/index.php
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Operation Heart Cream: Part Deux
"If Charis ever hears any more voices telling her to slit her wrists, Tony is the one she'd call . . . Tony would know what to do, step by step, one thing at a time, in order. She wouldn't call Roz at first, because Roz would freak out, would cry and sympathize and agree with her about the unbearablility of it all . . . But afterwards, after she felt safe again, she would go to Roz for the hug."
The Robber Bride
Our friends always serve different purposes in our lives. Some give us comfort, while others bring us safety and order. I am just thankful that we have them. It is impossible for me to give you, my Lindy-Lou, the language based inspiration that Brandi is able to give you. That is not my role, but I want you to know how wonderful, talented and special you are to us. I know this may not soothe your fractured heart, but I hope it will help.
I am quite a bit older than you, and although I am not very mature, I have learned that what seems like a disappointment, is really an opportunity. To cut that line from a story, that piece from our painting, clip our bangs, or take off those heels, is a moment of freedom that will one day have a larger effect on our very short lives. You are wonderful, you do wear pointy-toe shoes better than anyone I know and have an incredibly sharp wit. You will be fine, but you know that already.
Here is the Munro piece:
"Sing," my brother commands my father, but my father says gravely, "I don't know, I seem to be fresh out of songs. You watch the road and let me know if you see any rabbits."
So my father drives and my brother watches the road for rabbits and I feel my father's life flowing back from our car in the last of the afternoon, darkening and turning strange, like a landscape that has an enchantment on it, making it kindly, ordinary and familiar while you are looking at it, but changing it once your back is turned, into something you will never know, with all kinds of weathers, and distances you cannot imagine."
Walker Brothers Cowboy
The Robber Bride
Our friends always serve different purposes in our lives. Some give us comfort, while others bring us safety and order. I am just thankful that we have them. It is impossible for me to give you, my Lindy-Lou, the language based inspiration that Brandi is able to give you. That is not my role, but I want you to know how wonderful, talented and special you are to us. I know this may not soothe your fractured heart, but I hope it will help.
I am quite a bit older than you, and although I am not very mature, I have learned that what seems like a disappointment, is really an opportunity. To cut that line from a story, that piece from our painting, clip our bangs, or take off those heels, is a moment of freedom that will one day have a larger effect on our very short lives. You are wonderful, you do wear pointy-toe shoes better than anyone I know and have an incredibly sharp wit. You will be fine, but you know that already.
Here is the Munro piece:
"Sing," my brother commands my father, but my father says gravely, "I don't know, I seem to be fresh out of songs. You watch the road and let me know if you see any rabbits."
So my father drives and my brother watches the road for rabbits and I feel my father's life flowing back from our car in the last of the afternoon, darkening and turning strange, like a landscape that has an enchantment on it, making it kindly, ordinary and familiar while you are looking at it, but changing it once your back is turned, into something you will never know, with all kinds of weathers, and distances you cannot imagine."
Walker Brothers Cowboy
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Kerry_loves_Reese@hotmail.com
Yesterday, my 14 year old son was on the computer checking his email. I had promised to send someone an email by 4 yesterday afternoon and had forgotten, so I told Reese to quickly get off the computer so I could use it for 5 minutes. Instead of closing it out, he just minimized it. When I finished, I brought his page up for him and the title of this blog is what I saw. I promise, I had no intention of looking at his email, so don't judge me too harshly. It was like passing a train wreck, you felt dirty, but you had to do it. I found out that the little girl down the street, also 14, is in love with Reese. Apparently he asked her out (where to I do not know) and she responded, "Do you know how long I have been waiting for you to ask?" All of two weeks I am sure. I also discovered something unpleasant. She also said something about "making out." I did not get the whole thing, but it can't be good. I surprised myself by, not only reading his email, but also by the strong effect the content had on me. I felt physically sick and wanted to cry. I understand young love. In many ways, I am still a 14 year old waiting on love to happen to me in the only way it can happen to the innocent. I guess what bothers me is the idea of any, and I mean any type of sexuality in my children. That type of progression means they are getting older, and in turn, so am I. Donald Trump just recently had a baby. At 59, he is getting older and is facing his immortality. He is quoted as saying, "I keep having kids, so I stay young right?" No Donald, you do not, but I can see where he is going. The progression of time is easily measured outside of our own minds and bodies. We see our parents grow older and our children get taller, but we are too inside ourselves to witness our own aging process. In the future, I will remind him to close his email before I use the computer. The less we see, the better.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Movie Review and Other Stuff
I know Kirsten is sick of hearing me talk about A History of Violence, but I enjoyed it so much that I thought I would recommend it to others. It is not the greatest movie ever made, but it is a really good story and a cliffhanger as well. I was interested in it because it is based on a graphic novel. Something a little different.
I also started a new book that, so far, is very interesting. Its called Lying: A Metaphorical Memoir by Lauren Slater who also wrote Prozac Nation. I think Brandi would be interested in it, if for nothing else other than its concept. It sort of reminds me of the book you read, I think it was called The Girl in the Plaid Skirt. I've had it for a while, but have been to busy to read it. I probably will not finish it, The Robber Bride awaits, but at least I have started.
Also, props to McDonald's. The fast food giant, and makers of a fabulous chicken sandwich, have changed coffee, and with the distribution of free coffee coupons, has drawn me into their web. I was tempted to try their brand when I read an article that said in a blind taste test, McDonald's new coffee beat out Starbucks.
A new poet on the rise -- Of late, Trey has been writing poetry. All of it involving colors. He told me that he plans to write a poem about every color in the rainbow and then he will combine all of the poems in the shape of a rainbow. Needless to say, I am impressed. Publication is forthcoming, so look for it in the future.
I also started a new book that, so far, is very interesting. Its called Lying: A Metaphorical Memoir by Lauren Slater who also wrote Prozac Nation. I think Brandi would be interested in it, if for nothing else other than its concept. It sort of reminds me of the book you read, I think it was called The Girl in the Plaid Skirt. I've had it for a while, but have been to busy to read it. I probably will not finish it, The Robber Bride awaits, but at least I have started.
Also, props to McDonald's. The fast food giant, and makers of a fabulous chicken sandwich, have changed coffee, and with the distribution of free coffee coupons, has drawn me into their web. I was tempted to try their brand when I read an article that said in a blind taste test, McDonald's new coffee beat out Starbucks.
A new poet on the rise -- Of late, Trey has been writing poetry. All of it involving colors. He told me that he plans to write a poem about every color in the rainbow and then he will combine all of the poems in the shape of a rainbow. Needless to say, I am impressed. Publication is forthcoming, so look for it in the future.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
The Loss of UnnamedThings
"Each child is living the only life he has - the only one he will ever have. The least we can do is not diminish it." Bill Page
It seems strange to me that I am quoting a man who is an educator, and not a writer. In fact, I know very little about Bill Page, but lately I have found myself interested in what people like him have to say. I spent last night creating a wish list on Amazon that was not filled with novels, but rather books about educating high school students. Instead of the "Book Lovers List" I used to have, my list is now named the "Future Teachers Survival Pack." That is quite a change for me; someone who hates education classes and all of those in them.
I have been spending quite a bit of time in the classroom this week observing the way a high-school class operates. I have to admit, that on some days, I am extraordinarily excited about teaching, but on other days, I feel completely inadequate and unprepared. Yesterday, the class played a game of Jeopardy!, and they seemed to enjoy it. Several of the kids are very funny, and I have trouble pretending that I am not listening to them, but during the game, they told me that I had to be on their team. I laughed and refused, "It wouldn't be fair," I said, "They answered the same questions in the first block so I already know the answers." They laughed and I laughed, and one of the boys on the other team mocked my laugh. I felt the familiar sting of tears behind my eyes and a lump swell in my throat. For him, it was meaningless. I am sure he meant no real harm, but to me, the emotional reaction that I felt, said, "They will eat you alive. You are not tough enough."
In my old high school, the teachers there never sought to make a difference. The only way they touched me was in pinching my shoulder when I turned around, or tapping me on the head when I was talking. I have no memories of them reaching out to me and showing me what I could do well, or trying to engage me in any real conversation about life. I think what scare me the most is that I too will be ineffectual. The life that these kids live - the only life they will live - will be diminished by me in some way, and in turn, my life will somehow be diminished. Either would be tragic.
It seems strange to me that I am quoting a man who is an educator, and not a writer. In fact, I know very little about Bill Page, but lately I have found myself interested in what people like him have to say. I spent last night creating a wish list on Amazon that was not filled with novels, but rather books about educating high school students. Instead of the "Book Lovers List" I used to have, my list is now named the "Future Teachers Survival Pack." That is quite a change for me; someone who hates education classes and all of those in them.
I have been spending quite a bit of time in the classroom this week observing the way a high-school class operates. I have to admit, that on some days, I am extraordinarily excited about teaching, but on other days, I feel completely inadequate and unprepared. Yesterday, the class played a game of Jeopardy!, and they seemed to enjoy it. Several of the kids are very funny, and I have trouble pretending that I am not listening to them, but during the game, they told me that I had to be on their team. I laughed and refused, "It wouldn't be fair," I said, "They answered the same questions in the first block so I already know the answers." They laughed and I laughed, and one of the boys on the other team mocked my laugh. I felt the familiar sting of tears behind my eyes and a lump swell in my throat. For him, it was meaningless. I am sure he meant no real harm, but to me, the emotional reaction that I felt, said, "They will eat you alive. You are not tough enough."
In my old high school, the teachers there never sought to make a difference. The only way they touched me was in pinching my shoulder when I turned around, or tapping me on the head when I was talking. I have no memories of them reaching out to me and showing me what I could do well, or trying to engage me in any real conversation about life. I think what scare me the most is that I too will be ineffectual. The life that these kids live - the only life they will live - will be diminished by me in some way, and in turn, my life will somehow be diminished. Either would be tragic.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Pictures!
All of you have heard so much about the conference this weekend, that I thought I should put some faces with names. I also thought I should change my blog template because it looked so much like Brandi's. Everytime I looked at it, I felt like a thief. This one is kind of lame, but at least I don't look like a copy cat anymore. I was aiming for kirsten's template next!
Dr. Winterhalter and the much-loved Grace Paley
. I could just put her in my pocket and take her home! The equally loved Dr. Hollinger! Making sure everyone stays on schedule.
Dr. Winterhalter scolding Dr. Hollinger for something, while Grace Paley looks on.
Brandi and her blue bike. She looks very Sex and the Cityish!
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Words of Wisdom
Today, one of my favorite professors told me about a great line she heard Grace Paley use this weekend. One of my friends, who lives too far away for a hug, is having a tough week, and is in need of a little reassurance, so I will hug her with words and hope this helps her feel better.
Grace wanted to go on the walking tour to see the studio of one of the artists, but she feared she would not be able to handle the walk. She said, "I feel that I can walk very far, but not very fast."
Applied to life, this is a wonderful thought. Slow down; enjoy the walk; go farther.
Grace wanted to go on the walking tour to see the studio of one of the artists, but she feared she would not be able to handle the walk. She said, "I feel that I can walk very far, but not very fast."
Applied to life, this is a wonderful thought. Slow down; enjoy the walk; go farther.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Learning New Things
One of the things I love about conferences is the opportunity to learn new things. Some presentations put me to sleep, but there are always a couple that sparks my interest, or introduces me to something new. At this years women's studies conference, I was put to sleep a couple of times but I learned some wonderful new things.
At one presentation, I learned that all of the beautiful people that we see both in print and on television, are digitally enhanced. The beautiful women we strive to look like, don't even look as they appear. The ideal body image is unattainable because it does not exist. Makes me feel better anyway.
I also learned about a writer I had never read before. Grace Paley was fabulous! I loved her spunk and I have already ordered her book of poetry. All for this one line: "I was moved by the strong desire to kiss his explaining lips." In the context of the rest of the poem, this was so very moving. I will post the poem in its entirety when I receive the book.
At a session on art, I learned about an Iranian photographer that takes some very disturbing and beautiful photographs. Visit this site and see some of her work:The photo above is her work.
http://www.iranian.com/Arts/Dec97/Neshat/
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