skinnygirl

2008-09-23T19:22:00.002-05:00

meditation. hm. maybe i'd like to try it but what are you supposed to do when you meditate?
silence the mind. be filled with gratitude.
gratitude for what?
being alive.
what if i'd prefer not to be?
alive?
alive.
to be honest i'm not really alive. i don't do anything besides read. right now i'm reading the short fiction of virginia woolf. wasn't she a writer who killed herself?
i go to class. but i feel so foreign, so like i don't belong there, so like i'll never be able to be a teacher, so much like i don't want to be a teacher.
this hits my inferiority complex. i don't feel good enough for myself. like maybe i expected more from myself. or maybe i always thought i would actually be something eventually. but here i am, still an assistant, afraid of taking the steps it takes to become a teacher.

quiero que me mate y que se muera conmigo. esa puta cancion que no sale de mi mente todavia febril.

2008-09-18T18:23:00.002-05:00

here is how i would tell the plot of my favorite book to someone who is not likely to read it:
cathy marries linton but is in love with heathcliff, whom she has loved since childhood; she says it would degrade her to marry heathcliff. he overhears this and leaves. he comes back having made his fortune. when he comes back, linton puts up with his visits but eventually cathy goes crazy and dies. she haunts heathcliffe for twenty years, then he goes manic and dies after having taken out all his bitterness anger and rage on anyone left of the linton and earnshaw clans.

i went crazy and died.
this is why i feel like a ghost.
(everything was figurative mind you, i'm not really typing this from beyond the grave. and for me, i wish there to be no grave. i want to be cremated and have my ashes shot into space so i can come back to earth as shooting stars.)

2008-09-16T19:00:00.002-05:00

i watch the tears i can't cry fall from my head as i'm wrapped in a towel that embraces me like no human arms can. i've taken to liking the rain, and to walking with my head always tilted down, as it is now. my lips are mashed against my fists and pure gravity is what brings down these hair tears. this is the best part of the shower, when i am between worlds and have no responsibility or standard of human conduct to follow, protected by my white towel, anything dark bounces off.

and hair tears fall as a result of my blank downward stare, the same stare i find in the afternoons, sitting in the kitchen with tea waiting for last night's dreams to make their way to my memory. maybe the semblance of tears will bring even the smallest spec of light through this nightmare cumulus that has me staring at the ground lately as i walk desolate halls. it has me hearing, but not listening. it has me here but absent. it has me staring but not seeing. talking but not speaking. all i can hear are the rumblings, teasing me with the thought of rain, but this cloud will not move on!

desolate halls despite all the young voices, all their light i cannot receive. i'm wrapped in my dark blanket from head to foot, a black hole, nothing is reflected. i can smile and i can imitate the adults but i'm invisible, giving off no perceptible light. whatever light i had i spent, played with it, held up another mirror to my own reflective surfaces and canceled out the waves. or maybe the reflective surface is charred, covered with a black soot, a souvenir of my trip to the sun.

i don't want to do this but i don't want to do anything. i don't want to be here but i don't want to be anywhere. i don't want to be on autopilot but here i am, merely existing, a vegetable, and if i weren't on autopilot where would i go? this isn't just depression it's a nightmare. i thought i knew what i wanted, i thought i had a career path that i enjoyed but now it's all gone. i'm just going through the motions, i don't care (of course my therapist recommends that i don't dwell on the apathy). i don't care i don't belong i don't want i don't fit i don't i don't i don't.

and if i skip dinner tonight it's no big deal because i'm already back to my normal weight. except that i am growing hungry which is a rare sensation i'm never hungry for anything. cutting is too messy, plucking is a bore, starving is hard when one is hungry, drinking gives me a headache, pot is unavailable, sex is inaccessible, too many pills is unconsionable, overeating impossible.

how terrible when no self-destructive behavior interests one.

2008-09-06T11:33:00.002-05:00

i feel lost again. i don't feel like doing anything but curling up with the book i'm reading and shutting myself off from the rest of the world. i have to do some studying but all i can do is think and obsess
cosas que vi
si antes no creia en el amor, creia que eran cuentos que la gente se contaba para entretenerse, pero en la fiebre que tenia senti que era algo que si existia, creo que por eso empece a sentir tan conectada, a la verdad universal. y ahora que estoy con los pies ahogados en el fondo del mar me queda el fantasma de todo lo que sentia. mi ser tiene memoria de haber experimentado eso.

is my soul lost?

2008-09-02T19:46:00.002-05:00

because maybe that is the seat of my crisis. i'm not me anymore. and i don't know what to do to get back. i feel useless, like a parasite, like i am just taking up space. at work i feel useless because there is nothing for me to do. i feel useless in my one class because i have nothing to contribute. there is nothing coming from me. i would be a failure as a ghost because nobody would register my presence. i possess no energy, no light. so i might as well stay living because as a ghost i wouldn't be able to haunt anybody. i feel like i can't function. the only thing in which i take pleasure is reading. which i am going to go do now.

2008-08-28T15:46:00.002-05:00

i am empty.

depressed. bored? uninspired. questioning everything about my life. this is normal. for myself anyhow.

at this point i do nothing and am nothing. ok there's graduate school. the class is multicultural education. i don't have anything inside of me that wants to come out about that. all i have right now is what i am feeling and the dreams i manage to remember. today there were none specific, except something about a rope ladder. ha. maybe i am the one on the rope ladder and it's about to break and it is strung between two cliffs and i have no idea what is below it because of the fog.

i was manic for a period this summer. over the fourth of july holiday. i was convinced i was being followed by an old friend. earlier he and i had had some conversations, more talk of what was previously talked about a year before (that of my going to visit him). then the mania took hold. the weed may have had something to do with it, but i was out of control. i believed (or at least said it was part of the story that i was writing in my head) that he was a song writer and had managed to get all the songs he had written onto my mp3 player. the songs were all about me. i realize that this is not true, but the songs took on meanings of their own. kind of like they all started to make sense and they were all about the same universal theme: love. at one point i also imagined he was somehow connected to franz ferdinand and all of franz's songs were about the same thing too (he WAS vantango, from the song on their bonus CD).

i was sick.
i was exposed.
i was lucky i bounced between husband and mom and didn't make any new friends. i would have been friends with anyone, i thought they were all involved. involved in the grand scheme to put me and him together. i thought even husband was involved, that he had been paid off to marry me and keep me safe and hidden until the time was right. he had been paid off to keep me a secret.

i remember having a distinct fantasy, a vision if you will. i may still retain photographic evidence, though it will be on the hard drive (purchased with mania) i bought this summer. the fantasy (i was high at the time and doodling on a mirror with a dry erase marker) was that i was from this irish guild and was reincarnated as who i am today. that this is why i can crochet, this is why i have an artistic side to me. that he was once an italian artist or something like that, a designer's apprentice. and that we were meant to find each other again. what i doodled on the mirror really had nothing to do with my fantasy, i was indulging my manic propensity to document everything. somehow everything was so important and i wanted to share every moment. with him. by uploading photos to the internet.

this was my mania.
my manic episode
my delusions
and i don't even know how much he saw.
now that i am in a saner frame of mind i would like to know.

for instance, i want to know if something really did happen, or if i made it up, told it to a friend, forgot about it, and had that friend ask me about it.

the last time i saw him we had argued over whether i would go to his house for the night. i would not. i refused because he had a girlfriend at the time. so he drove me half way home, and i got in a taxi the rest of the way. i did not arrive back to the place i was staying until sunrise. this was because the taxi driver appeared to be a senile old man. he had to stop three times to ask for directions. in the fever of my delusions, i supposed that my friend had paid the taxi driver to get lost, in the hopes that i would get frustrated and call him to come to pick me up. i was talking with an old girlfriend of mine one night while i was high when i told her all about this guy. in my delusions i kept getting confused, thinking that he was hacking into her chat account and talking to me though her. so i was saying things to her that were really meant for him. a couple of times my friend had to stop me and say WHAT? and i would giggle and say "not in a sexual way, silly!" i was manic so the conversation continued ad infinitum, my thinking i was really talking to him, and then i tired my friend and was talking to myself. or i moved onto some other poor soul who was still up and online, still thinking i was talking to someone besides the person who was really talking to me.

i'm pretty sure i made up the part about the tachero being bribed. and there is no way my girlfriend had any contact with my friend because she would have told me.

of course mixed in with all this were the real conversations, by internet, that i managed to have with the object of my delusions. because i kept talking to people who i thought were him, i have no idea what things i told him, i have no idea what he knows and what he said to me and what i made up on my own. when i was at my granddad's house, someone was talking to me who said they wrote the da vinci code, that they had "pooped on a toad." i told the person, thinking it was mister delusion subtly asking my forgiveness for fucking something up (or somebody), that he should wait to see what the toad does, then clean up his mess. i proceeded to tell about a time when i was a young child, i had taken a dump outside in the yard and our neighbor had stepped in it. then whoever i was talking to cheerfully led me into a "good night."

sometimes i feel like i saw too much, like i got too close to the sun, too high, saw too much truth, and am still having a hard time coming back down. husband unfortunately was left clear out of my delusions, but he was there to rein me back in when i needed it. i wasn't sleeping. and if i was it was maybe an hour each night. i would get in bed, feel restless, then get up and do something else. there was one night i got up and went into the bathroom with two dry-erase markers, a camera and a tripod. i wrote silly things on the mirror and drew mermaids (my personal joke with myself that was meant for him - nada - swim to get to me, and also, nothing). this time the fantasy was that i was somebody's inspiration - that i was the inspiration behind a movie that was being made. all the pictures i took had that look, i didn't pose for the camera but instead looked like a director taking still shots on a movie set. of course the movie was the breakdown of my mind.

the movie theme must be common in bouts of mania. one of my delusional fantasies was that he was connected to a movie that was currently being made, or being written. that i was the inspiration for the main character. it didn't help the mania that a well known young director was in his country making a movie. that was one of the dots in my web. another dot connected to the movie fantasy was this: once while driving down to my mother's house i passed a grey bus that had "la fuga (the escape)" painted on the rear. as if were a tour bus for a band that was somehow involved in this delusional movie. i smiled and laughed and made the hang ten sign with my hand as i drove past them.

therapy

2008-08-11T12:32:00.002-05:00

so here i go again, beaming myself back up to the blogosphere.

the truth is ever since i've been on this medication i've wanted to write but just haven't been able to find the proper writing utensil - one that feels right in my hands. so here i am back on blogger. it's what brought husband and i together - we met through our blogs. it was always very therapeautic for me to write things and blogger makes it easy.

plus it feels good to have the small hope that somewhere somebody will come across my blog and think about the words i type.

until then it's just me here. typing my thoughts. i know that sounds pussy but i need some where to write down all the garbage that is in my head.

take this morning. the alarm woke us at seven. we got ourselves up out of bed but by seven-fifteen i decided to set the alarm once more to eight. we even had tea on the table and i still insisted on some cuddle time.

cuddle time is very nice. we were at my mom's this weekend. well, saturday to sunday. saturday night before going to bed husband and i were arguing over whether to let the television stay on while we fell asleep. that made me smile, giggle even. of course we went to bed with the television off, and i with a smile on my face. when we woke up i was very relaxed and was kind of in the middle of a dream. we had lots of cuddle time and i thoroughly enjoyed it.

i'm still getting over the events of this summer. the doctors say i had a manic episode. i felt like the movie girl,interrupted. i was delusional. it scares me to realize how delusional and paranoid i was. the whole time i knew way back in the back of my head that the fantasy i had created was just that - fantasy. but i wanted to believe it and so i acted as if it were so.

i went off the happy pills at the start of all this. perhaps that change, plus weed, plus moving, all allowed for this to happen. it still scares me a lot. but one thing i have to remember is that i can only move forward. i can't go back to being who i was before i started taking pills because that's not who i am anymore. sure, it's all in the blog if you go all the way back to the first few posts. but this is me, here, now and i have to live with it.

i'm really feeling a lot of anxiety. i couldn't go back to sleep after resetting the alarm. we spooned, husband fell asleep and got all twitchy, but i couldn't relax. i was visualizing my brain, compartmentalized. the whole right hemisphere was occupied by my husband (who at the time happened to be on my right hand side). then the left hemisphere was divided into two parts, quarters if you will. the front was yellow and relaxed, but the back is where all my thoughts were screaming at me. this made it difficult to concentrate on relaxing.

speaking of relaxing, i am going to go read and do some relaxing of my own. maybe some yoga.

something, something, drop out?

2007-12-10T08:33:00.000-05:00

what was that saying in the sixties, turn on, tune in, drop out? this generation needs to come up with another that has something to do with waking up from the hypnosis of pop culture.

i can't watch tv anymore. i'm sick today - i just don't feel right, maybe i woke up in a psychosis? but anyway, per my sick day tradition i watched the today show. i've been away from tv for too long - it was absolutely intolerable. they had this "don juan" character on and were grilling him. it was like, they didn't even give him a chance to explain his point of view, he was already proved an evil careless person. well, i applaud the don juan. he's more grounded in reality than the person interviewing him or the sex therapist sitting at his right. his perspective was, i love women i like to have sex and i don't want a relationship right now; i try to be up front about it and if some woman misconstrues my intentions, it's her fault because we are all responsible for our feelings. that's fine with me, i would still be friends with him if he were an interesting person.

i'm not sure i ever blogged about bullshit chris, but he was a guy from penn that studied in buenos aires with us the second semester. the two other girls from my university had him written off as an arrogant asshole because of something he had said or done during orientation, and would have nothing to do with him. but i found him quite interesting. he was fun to hang out with and people watch, and his stories about trying to find a telho the night before a feriado were quite entertaining.

as my brother says, (or used to say; law school might be screwing with his head a little) you have to be an equal opportunity friend. in my words, don't write someone off just because they seem like an asshole; don't write off a don juan just because you don't live or can't even imagine his lifestyle.

then they were talking about turning fifty. one guy was saying he still felt like thirty, like he didn't want to "give in" to being fifty. give in? to the stereotype that fifty means taking it easier and acting like you're fifty? that's bullshit. it might be true that you've got more years behind you than ahead, but you don't have to live that way. you have more new experiences ahead of you than behind you - given that through your life you've been reflective and have learned from your experiences and therefore have some kind of wisdom. wisdom/knowledge/perspective applied to experiences equals revelations!

this might sound like raving deleriousness but no more tv for me. it's all bullshit, all lies, all propagation of stereotypes that lead to unfulfillable desires. it's better to be grounded and seek the truth for one's self.

2007-10-21T16:09:00.000-05:00

"There is no firm reason to anticipate that the intellectual capacities of peoples geographically separated in their evolution should prove to have evolved identically. Our wanting to reserve equal powers of reason as some universal heritage of humanity will not be enough to make it so."

yes, that first reaction you just thought is known as a "knee-jerk reaction." just observe it and move on to read the words and understand them as any rational person should. i think in this dr. watson is entirely correct. however we have to understand what we mean by "intellect." if we take out "intellect" and anything related to it and replace it with, hm, something like resistance to xyzitis disease (ok i made up the disease but just walk with me)... the quote then reads something like the following

"There is no firm reason to anticipate that the resistance to xyzitis of peoples geographically separated in their evolution should prove to have evolved identically. Our wanting to reserve equal resistance to xyzitis as some universal heritage of humanity will not be enough to make it so."

it makes sense now doesn't it! people need to stop being so racist and instead think in terms of evolution and natural selection.

is blogging dead?

2007-09-26T06:34:00.000-05:00

no! it's just asleep for now. i'm considering starting/continuing my anonymous(ish) blog because i MUST have SOMEWHERE to unload all the secrets and gossip about my work environment. to this blog here i cut all social-network ties (despite how proud i am of all the hacks i've implemented) in response to a little bit in wired magazine about a canadian not being let into the US because some border patrol person googled him and found less than flattering info on him. is that not the most ridiculous terrifying thing? is that even LEGAL? i think in the same article it mentions another problem with a guy who had admitted in his blog to having smoked pot in 1960, getting into unwarranted trouble. yikes.

so i'm off to read the news. will have a special announcement, pending permission being bidden of my father, in a few days.

2007-09-02T22:59:00.000-05:00

it's like seeing what's between what people say and what people think.

that's why i had to wait until after my grandma left.

don't call me

2007-08-12T11:52:00.000-05:00

you know what i think is absolutely profane?

that music artists use so much profanity and sexual imagery in their "art"! in fact it's actually encouraged because we all know sex sells!

ok so that's not the whole of it:
it's quite profane that there is so much sex and sexualization and violence allowed in music and other media, but that what is not allowed is political criticism. (this in response to remembering something i read about that i think pearl jam got mad at producers of lollapalooza (sp, i know) for censoring a few of their lyrics that were critical of the president).

THAT is profane.

for the record

2007-08-10T00:49:00.000-05:00

i think i understand the difference between an agnostic and an atheist.

the atheist disbelieves the existence of god. that is, he believes there is not a god. the agnostic ("the divine is unknowable") believes that there might be a god, but we can neither prove that he exists nor prove he does NOT exist.

agnosticism seems kind of wimpy. i remember i used to think of atheists as bitter people - like they'd given up on god so threw out the whole idea of his existence. but that's not atheism - that's turning one's back on a god one believes in. and i'm not bitter.

i think it's easier on the psyche to be atheist as well. one isn't waiting for someone "up there" to intercede on one's behalf. therefore one is forced to take matters into one's hand and accept things one cannot change and take full responsibility for one's actions. is that not a "family value?"

juan, you mOnster, har har!

2007-08-10T00:46:00.000-05:00

site meter is wonderful. it's told me that for the second or third time, somebody in argentina landed on my blog after (i assume) she googled juan munster. poor is the guy who gets written up on blogs because of bad behavior, who gets found out by the girls who google him!

finally, a functional family

2007-08-07T09:37:00.000-05:00

boyfriend and i were at my mother's house this weekend, as was my aunt and two of my cousins, and my sisters and my niece.

saturday we had a little cookout. since it had been a while, i broke out the hookah. it was very funny watching my aunt c's bottom lip tremble as she tried to exhale smoke through her nose. and, of course, there were the inevitable paraphernalia jokes - mm let me take a HIT of that; yeah man that's some GOOD STUFF!.

as i was "packing the bowl" for the second time, my sister's friend from the barn arrived, with a friend who happened to bring her ten year old daughter. i continued the bowl-packing, then wandered into the kitchen since the burgers were ready. a few minutes later, the guest-woman comes into the kitchen and grabs my mom by the elbow.

she says something like, there's not drugs here are there? because i'm really not comfortable with that as i have my daughter with me!

of course my mom replies with a negative and i explain to her what a hookah is and what shisha consists of.

the three non-family leave soon after we consume the birthday cake (it was my mom's turn to celebrate the three birthdays).

we find out in the ensuing conversation that aunt c had said something like,

i'm going to eat outside, WHERE THE DRUGS ARE!

and that is what caused the "drugs" controversy.

i admit i felt bad and a little embarrassed that we didn't do more to make the guests feel more comfortable. but, we hadn't expected them, and we weren't doing anything illegal.

after all, it is a little odd to assume that someone would let her children, in the presence of an almost one year old, smoke something illegal openly in the back yard.

indoctrination

2007-08-03T09:20:00.000-05:00

1. gee, surfer friend, in high school i never woulda' thought YOU would be the one converting ME.

2. the bible belt has begun to claim my sister as its own. she is dating this guy whose family is super duper bible thumpin' xtians. she owns a bible. she goes to sunday school. which is all fine, i guess, since it's her life and it's up to her and as her big (and more enlightened, i hope) sister i should not judge her. i can only hope she comes out of it with less psychic struggle than with which i did.

but i can already see the seeds of indoctrination. every once in a while she will say something that doesn't sound like her, or that sounds like my own reasoning and thoughts at the time of MY indoctrination.

the other day she said something about wanting to cut her hair because she loved it too much. she spends too much time looking at it and just likes it too damn much, so she should cut it off [so she isn't tempted to love it so much, i guess?].

when i accused her of having fallen victim to indoctrination, she said that thought had nothing to do with the church or her boyfriend's influence. easily bought by an outsider, but not by someone who has used that same reasoning in the past. why is it a symptom of indoctrination? the bible says you're not to love the world or anything of it - her hair is "of the world" - therefore she shouldn't love it - since she loves it a lot she should cut it so she doesn't love it so much. my problem with it: it's her hair! it's part of her! if you want to believe in god, he put it on her! he could have given her thin mousy straight hair if he wanted, but instead he gave her this gorgeous curly thick blonde hair that ought to be shown off! my own secular argument: WHAT? it's her hair, it's part of her. she should not feel bad for loving it, if loving it is how she naturally feels about it. there is nothing WRONG with loving her hair, so long as she keeps herself from following the example of narcissus and drowning for love of looking at it. she should not feel guilty about how she feels about her hair because loving it doesn't harm anyone as she is not one to brag or look down on her mousy-haired compatriots. it's quite a pleasure to behold. so for the pleasure of the rest of the world she should keep her hair where it belongs, on her head. (i know, my secular reasoning needs work but that's the challenge of secularism - no one moral authority).

3. we were driving to our grandparents' house when boyfriend mentions that he would like to get some starbucks coffee. my sister begins to chat about how she loves starbucks but does not want to become dependent on it - she doesn't want to NEED to drop five bucks for a coffee drink. i suppose this is a valid concern for any coffee drinker - symptoms of deviation from your daily coffee habit can be quite uncomfortable; not to mention that a daily starbucks cold-frouffy-drink habit could end up being quite expensive. symptom of indoctrination? maybe. for me, definitely because i've used that thought process before. here it goes: the bible says we're to give 10% of our income to god - therefore i shouldn't waste my money on frivolous things - coffee isn't something i need so it's a frivolous thing. therefore i shouldn't make a habit of it. my secular argument to her: first, starbucks isn't expensive if you buy regular coffee drinks or even a short cappuccino, like i buy. second, i wouldn't want to have a daily coffee habit either; that's why i say, EVERYTHING IN MODERATION.

reflection on learning

2007-07-17T12:54:00.000-05:00

here is something i've noticed and begun to question:

am i really intelligent in the way i expose myself to new information, or am i just a cocky little bitch?

for instance, i'm reading this study guide for these education tests i have to take at the beginning of august. i read the sections on human development and questioned their validity towards education. in other words, i didn't just take notes about what these theories said - i actually wondered if they hadn't been debunked and if they were no longer relevant to education.

also, quite a few of them seem to go along the lines of cognitive development (ie, bloom's taxonomy).

maybe it's a mix of both. i think i am a little cocky when it comes to learning. i'm a bitch.

mid-week freak out

2007-07-11T17:16:00.000-05:00

is what happened last week. but i survived. i asked and explored all those questions and came out allright. at least i hope. i know what to do if it happens again.

and i watched sicko today. it seems michael moore has done it again - made me cry and want to move to france! i believe he's onto something when talking about the french way of life... i like how one lady says that in france, the government is afraid of the people (well just look at france's history and one can understand why.) here, on the other hand, the people are afraid of the government.

i think it's silly that there are even songs that sing about being proud to be an "american." ugh, make me barf, it's all a load of crap. but wouldn't that be neat if the government were afraid of the people here? never gonna happen. unless we have something bloody and terrible happen like they did in france.

2007-07-09T10:09:00.000-05:00

am finally getting my hair cut tomorrow. trimmed, actually. i'll cut it all off when it's finally in a great condition and long enough to sell. that's right, i want to sell my hair.

so i've been having all these "uncomfortable" thoughts. i would call them "bad" but i prefer not to judge them because they're just thoughts and shouldn't have a value in and of themselves - should they? isn't the action what is to be judged should they have any corresponding action?

i thought the question had been answered. since i was on the precipice of making a decision, the last time we saw each other was supposed to have been the one chance to make a good impression. at which was obviously failed. which leads me to believe the decision already made. from the third eye to the intuition to the voice, a strong resounding "caution" or "no!" continues to echo more than a year hence.

(i apologise for using some strange lexic constructions - it seems that in the days before tv people had a much larger capacity to understand the written word - which is why reading middlemarch has been such an adjustment. the language of the book is so rich and subtle that i find myself having to go back over what i've just read to make sure i have understood.)

but then the whatifs come echoing back, weaker than what intuition has provided, but gaining strength. what if there's more? what if i'm supposed to feel differently? what if we just threw ourselves together for the sake of making a good story come true and we don't really feel anything for each other? what if we're here by simple momentum, what if just because? what if in each other we fulfill a common need (such as dorothea's adoration for casaubon's scholarly demeanor) but don't feel what is required?

and to all these questions i can but answer (translation: i can ONLY answer; je ne peut que repondre JE NE SAIS PAS), i don't know. i don't know.

the question of self esteem: i don't deserve to be treated like this. this is too good for me. the question of pride: i will not be the other girl. i will not put up with those behaviors.

so why do i ruminate on another much less worthy of my concern? is it that the right words have already been used, despite my aversion to and disbelief in such words and such concepts i'm still female and it's in my nature to be attracted to them like a moth to fire? i should be smart enough to know when i'm being teased. maybe this is what i get for taking advantage of a malleable friend just for company.

i always feel better about these things, despite the mental tangle, after a long hard yoga practice. so i am sore today from plenty of sun salutations and lots of sweat (in fact i just cleaned my stinky yoga mat that literally smelled like ass)... yoga makes me feel calm despite the storm inside. it's weird, the strange calm. so i'll allow it to continue, instead of stewing in the perfect storm and waiting for a wave to capsize my sanity, and go to the library to look up some books i've heard of recently.

middlemarch

2007-07-02T10:31:00.000-05:00

i have begun the literary journey of george eliot's middlemarch.

at the first page i was quite afraid i would have trouble understanding the writing, but it seems like it was just a question of acostumbramiento. (f@ck i can't think of the word in english!)

i'm only a few chapters in, and am enjoying it thoroughly. it's not one of those books i can take with me to the pool or the dentist's office. first of all it's the size and approximate weight of a brick. second, i must sit down, write a few post-its, take some notes, and really THINK about what i am reading. that kind of reading is the most rewarding - i'm required to think, to find connections, to understand new ideas in my own context. as a result i end up feeling smarter! and for educators, challenging reading like this is essential if we are to learn how to challenge young minds to think critically about the things they read.

for the seasonally unemployed: embark on a literary journey. that way you'll at least have produced something for yourself that can never be spent! yay! becoming smarter!

first impressions: dorothea reminds me of myself during my cult days, and i probably would have ended up much like her had i not gone to salta when i was 20.

literary connection: jane eyre (charlotte bronte) is probably somewhat responsible for the undoing of my involvement in the cult. when the oldest of the german speaking family that jane lives with proposes marriage to her so she can go with him to be a missionary in india, i felt so strongly against this proposal. it had no feeling; he was proposing that she be his woman-tool to help him achieve a greater good, glory for himself. so it is with dorothea and mr. casaubon - he expresses no love for her, only admiration and a recognition that she would be the perfect woman-tool for him. it even says that he was somewhat disappointed that he wasn't experiencing the passion that men are said to experience as documented by poets, etc. i don't understand how he could get to the age he is without feeling that kind of passion. he is so emotionally ignorant. she is so caught up in her dogma that she doesn't realize the absence of love. she doesn't know enough about the real world and about herself to make the kind of decision that will entrap her for the rest of her life.

prediction: she's going to be unhappy and have some kind of awakening too late. fortunately for me, i had that awakening before i had made any ridiculous commitments. praise JEEEEE-SUS!

2007-06-27T08:22:00.000-05:00

1. one might wonder what a skinnygirl has to worry about. while this skinnygirl considers a boob job, it's hard not to admit that boyfriend and i do enjoy cyclically expanding/contracting breast tissue. but here is something that i can't change: the size of my ears. I was looking at my head from behind in the bathroom mirror (checking out my GORGEOUS hair because i want to sell it) and i looked at my ear and was for a moment reminded of "HEY YOU GUY-AAAYYYYYSSSSSSSS" ... you know, that retarded ogre in the goonies; he had tiny ears, no? i'm self-conscious of my ears looking under-developed and deformed.

2. i'm believing in marriage less and less. hollywood people make a mockery of it - just getting married to help their careers. people i knew in high school getting married too early - and consequently divorced - because the "happily ever after" story had been carved into their brains since birth. so, so many stories we tell ourselves. that's why i had such a hard time when i was dating - i was caught between two stories: the remnants of the happily-ever-after preached by the cult, and the jet-setter who didn't need a boyfriend but nevertheless wondered why each new guy lasted on average two weeks. why is it that i always tended towards the long-term relationship? i blame it on the adaptations women have evolved after generations. why get married? what is the point? ok, there are good reasons to get married: so your kids aren't bastards, the benefits when it comes to insurance, property, citizenship, etc (in fact i saw a personal ad on craigslist - i only read the platonic-only ones - where the guy offered to pay a woman to marry him for citizenship purposes - he would pay for everything). so i guess it's not all bad. but you better have a fucking good concept of yourself before you bring someone else into the storm!

3. sadly, i fear i have to leave the exchange program kids. on both practical and moral grounds; practical because i have to spend my time looking for a job and/or producing something, and moral because they send out a "patriotic" flyer saying that you should host a foreign student to "combat the poisonous propaganda which is deliberately being spread about our country." (poisonous propaganda = THE TRUTH!)

4. i'm crocheting. my friend liz is a knitter. we'd like to sell stuff. so i'm coming up with a few prototypes of pieces and patterns - speaking of which, i have to photograph and print and put in my sketchbook. then i can undo the first prototype, make changes, and do the next one. until i perfect my product.

2007-06-20T20:54:00.000-05:00

new post just for the sake of not having some lame-ass title such as "girlfriends" be the first thing one sees as one lands on my small parcel of blogosphere.

that's all. i'm paranoid about friends; last night i dreamed that for grad school i had to go back to my high school for a week and take classes - in algebra we went to this amphitheater that was made of sand dunes and we put triangle-shaped blocks in the sand and flooded it; my high school crush "carlitos" was also there, being reprimanded by his soccer coach for not participating in practice - apparently he was distracted because he was my sister's baby's daddy...

in other words, i miss my dream journal and i'm pissed that the perfect journal (spiral, hard bound, thick paper, pages turn neatly) costs like $12.00. though i may just end up buying one. a dream journal is so much fun!

oh! good lord i almost forgot! sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll! fornication pussy willow cock and balls! dick, prick, johnson, pito, paja, one-eyed-monster, trouser snake! hahahaha! (trying to see if this increases blog traffic. check out the sitemeter and then check the "referrals" to see what people were searching for when they found this!)

girlfriends

2007-06-13T15:26:00.000-05:00

i know i'm not the only one because i had this conversation with the girlfriends i accompanied to quelquepart island: why is it so hard for girls to make new friends?

ugh. because it sounds weird when you ask another girl for her phone number. even if it is someone from work with whom you're on pretty comfortable terms, it's still hard to ask for a phone number. even though obviously you just want to be friends with the person.

basically, it feels weird to ask another girl for her phone number because one doesn't want her to think one is trying to hit on her completely irrational thought, i know, but that's the base of it.

making friends shouldn't be thought of analogously to making dates. so when you're asking a friend for her phone number, it should be assumed you're making a friend, and have no "other" motives.

it's kind of sick that we even have to worry about that kind of thought-interference. and i know i don't worry about it just because i was made fun of in high school (i think freshman year i still dressed a bit like a tomboy and refused to wear a padded bra - thus making me look like hillary swank in "boys don't cry.") because other people have expressed similar anxieties to me.

i hope i made a new friend today - i had to go through the above anxiety (what if she thinks i'm stalking her?) today with one of the girls i work with, since today was my last day at school until august and it DEFINITELY seems stalker-ish to look up someone's phone number in the staff database. she's a lot of fun and told me that the gym teacher occasionally makes magic brownies.

good LAWD the things on your mind when you don't have to worry about boys!

*************
a former girlfriend of mine recently got married (oh! and pregnant). i say former because i was not invited to the wedding and it has been probably a year since we have spoken. and it's not because she did anything that i stopped talking to her; sometimes, with some people, things just stop, ready to resume whenever one person picks up the phone. but at that time i did realize that she was one of my malleable friends, she was someone i could use. any time i had a craving for chocolate chip pancakes at IHOP and was pretty sure JCP wouldn't meet me, i would call this other friend because i KNEW that she would always go along with me, or if she was already doing something, would try to work me in. looking back on that now, i don't know why i found something wrong with that attitude; it's nice to have friends you can hang out with whenever. but anyway, i still stand by my distaste at being able to change her mind or convince her of anything (except of my philosophy of salsa dancing, which she swore depended on being thin and beautiful. no - it only depends on being female and being unaccompanied on the dance floor)

i am happy for her that she's pregnant. the marriage thing is not really important for me because i think i'm part of the group that doesn't buy the marriage bullshit anymore - the "you have to get married before you're thirty, make sure he gets you a big diamond from the mall for your engagement, make sure everything for the wedding is just-so, and we'll be happily ever after, la la la la la!" bullshit.

i found out the preggers part from a friend - who told me that the couple didn't want anyone to know, ESPECIALLY (ie, they pointed her out by name) the person who broke the news to me. i've begun to feel that the couple is obsessed with this person and no matter how much the person has moved on with her own life and forgotten the couple, she will still be the ghost in the corner. that makes me question the "adult-ness" of their relationship that marriage is supposed to symbolize.

i think it might be endemic to the male part of the couple - during his first marriage, the person mentioned above was an issue also! his then wife was always making a big deal, whenever she spoke to me, about "oh i don't want you to feel like you're in the middle BUT..."

if that person is reading this now, i think he is obsessed with you!

mushrooms?

2007-06-10T12:20:00.000-05:00

let's just get it out: i want breast implants. i want to be a normal size so that i can have my pick of any bra out there.

anyway.

background story: a couple of weeks ago i went with five girlfriends and one guy to quelquepart island, sc. (it was actually kind of amazing to be in a group where WE WERE ALL HOT and there were no ~~fat~~ ugly girls -haha i'm so mean- i crossed out the fat because it's mean and i have some friends who complain they are fat, but i have no friends who are ugly) we had started the day early, around 9:00 and well, when in rome, you know. shortly thereafter my mom called and i picked up. realizing that when in rome it may not be the best idea to converse with my mother, i told her i was at the beach and distracted so i'd have to call her back. um, okay... she said, and it appeared to me that she was speaking to me as she would speak to me if i were drunk.

upon our return from the beach, i listened to my messages and my brother had left a cryptic rant about the "magic mushrooms" and how he couldn't believe i didn't feel bad about "eating all the mushrooms and making mom feel bad." i was convinced that he was being an asshole and trying to make me feel bad about picking up the phone when i couldn't be bothered to talk.

i freaked out and thought my mom was upset by our abbreviated conversation that morning. i called boyfriend and told him about the situation, and cried as i asked him to call her (because there was no way i trusted myself to talk to her with any coherence) and explain to her that "i was 26 and could do as i pleased." (i only remembered this yesterday as boyfriend and i laughed about the call i received from my brother.)

which brings me to yesterday. i finally picked up the phone to answer his call (i was until then only accepting text messages from him). shortly after i said, hello, he began to tell me a story:

when you were twelve or thirteen years old, one evening you were hungry and looked in the fridge and all there was to eat was this package of mushrooms. so you took it out and ate every single one of them. then mom got home and she was pissed off at you, because she was going to use the mushrooms that you ate for that day's dinner. she was yelling at you and you didn't even feel bad.

OOOOOOHHHHH so that's what you were talking about! but, why this recollection?

i think this explains my aversion to mushrooms. i felt bad for mom because you didn't feel bad about eating all those mushrooms!

so he actually was talking about mushrooms. i thought he was being euphemistic and totally blew it out of proportion. and needless to say, i have zero recollection of the mushroom incident, but i wouldn't put it past my twelve or thirteen year old self.

yet another shining example of why one should always get one's facts straight before reacting to a situation. or of why one should observe without reacting, or observe and withhold judgement.

abortion, bitches! or, parenting license

2007-06-03T12:20:00.000-05:00

Last week a kindergarten student wet her pants. since it was the end of the day, mom came to pick her up and that was that.

the next day, the student's teacher sent her up to the nurse's office. the child was wearing the same clothes in which she had been sent home and smelled like urine. the nurse and another teacher, with a generous helping of baby wipes from another teacher, helped the little girl to clean up, and found her a clean pair of underwear, pants and a shirt.

they said it appeared that the girl had been wearing the same pair of underwear for a week.

the nurse also commented on the little girl's recently-braided hair. "it must've taken at least six hours to braid her hair. she said her mamma did it last night. it's like professional! i would send my girls to her to get their hair done, if that woman didn't let her little girl walk around all nasty!"

the sad part is the little girl didn't even realize she was dirty. and i couldn't believe the mom would spend so much time on the child's hair and neglect to bathe her (or not even realize how she smelled!!!)

which leads me to a point on abortion. true, had the mother had an abortion this little girl would not have come about. but that's not the point i'm trying to make.

what i'd like to say is that to me it appears the problem with adamant pro-lifers is that they don't seem to consider people who might not be in an economic condition that would be good for children. consider the above child, or any other child born into poverty. a lot of these kids come from single-parent homes, which leads one to assume they weren't products of planned pregnancies. these mothers have to work for a living, or are on welfare, and probably aren't insured, so it costs everyone to take care of these unplanned pregnancies, in terms of tax dollars. would it not make sense to have abortion be an option? (that is something i need to find out though, the attitudes of this group of people towards abortion. is it even an option for them? why do they have babies if they can't afford to support them?)

of course we could take care of this problem quite easily: take away everyone's capability of making babies temporarily. then, everyone who wants to have babies will need to apply for a license; upon granting of said license, reproductive rights will be restored. easy!

vindicated n stuff

2007-05-19T08:09:00.000-05:00

what is unfortunate for teachers at my old school is that the principal must make a decision whether to rehire them in february while the results of the teacher's hard work aren't released until sometime like october.

case in point: me. YOU'RE WELCOME!

the other day i wondered about my school's report card. every school gets one. it outlines the demographics, financial info, and test scores for the previous years.

so now i have graphic, empirical evidence that I DID A GREAT JOB WITH MY THIRD GRADERS LAST YEAR!

there are two tests that students take in IL - one is the ISAT, which native english speakers take, and the other is the IMAGE, which those whose native language is not english must take. i had only six students take the ISAT while the rest took the IMAGE.

what the report card shows is that IMAGE-takers had much higher improvement than ISAT-takers.

i find that quite funny, seeing that two of three teachers who had the majority of students take IMAGE were on provisional certificates - ie, did not come from a background in education, yet had their students improve more than did the mainstream teachers.

perhaps it's of little importance to the average reader of this blog but to me it's a big deal. now i can write letters to the editor, i can write a "you're welcome, bitch" note to the old Principal, and i have raw evidence that the principal didn't know what she was doing when she didn't renew my contract. in other words, i can say my contract didn't get renewed because of my credentials, but i have evidence that i did a good job regardless.

i brag to the other teachers: "wanna see something?!"

have not yet shared this information with the principal, but maybe that's not necessary, as personally i've had a gigantic psychic load taken off my shoulders.

new challenge

2007-05-14T16:03:00.000-05:00

so i've taken on another post: local coordinator for a high school exchange program. which means i have to recruit host families and interview them and match students with them. it's kind of sales-ish-y but it should be fun.

the only problem i have with this program is this: they have a special group of kids who receive grants to study here - kids from primarily muslim countries. the person who places them has to make sure host families fulfill certain requirements, such as no pets or something like that. i agree with richard dawkins in his questioning of why religion is given such an out-of-bounds-for-compromise status; if a student is interested in getting to know the real US then he should accept whatever host family he's placed with. the family shouldn't have to conform to his culture, but the other way around. that's all.

lenses

2007-05-06T18:58:00.000-05:00

how i felt then can't be used as a baseline from which to judge how i felt in any other situation.

for a while i had been asking myself why may 2001 was such a physically illuminating experience unlike any other i've known since. i had also been wondering if there might be something wrong with me or with anyone else since the "let's go" attitude hasn't been repeated.

then it dawned on me: it was a first.

i was twenty years old, having just completed my second year of college. back then i was not your normal co-ed; i had yet to be on a proper "date" or to flash my boobies at anyone. (ok, i still have yet to do that, but it probably will never happen. at least not until they're filled with silicone and they're worth flashing at unsuspecting bystanders.)

since i was a member of a cult, there really was no such thing as dating. it was you were in a super-serious relationship or you were single; there were no in-betweens.

this was the first time i had ever made out with anyone.
yes, i was twenty and still had not made out (ie, kissed for more than a minute) with anyone.

since i was involved with a cult that emphasized sexual purity, anything relating to sexual desire was to be denied. so what i was doing was confronting these desires physically without the mental capacity to deal with them; what i was doing was way against the rules.

i was in another country. this was the experience beyond all experiences - my first ever experience of a desert was not in arizona, it was in SOUTH AMERICA. my first ever experience of making out was not with the thick-lipped closeted fellow cult member of the summer previous, but with a FUCKING HOT SALTENHO.

anyway, long story short and the point i'm trying to make: no experience compares with this because of all the factors that made it unique. i can't say "oh i don't like tal cosa because that's not how it felt with x or y" because i'm looking through a whole new perspective now.

from the hours spent on the beach last weekend staring at people while visualizing a pair of glasses with spinny things that change the lenses: seeing the world through different lenses (ie, perspectives)...

lonely in blogland

2007-04-30T18:40:00.000-05:00

i'm feeling lonely here in blogland.

one of my favorite blogs has turned into a stamp-collecting-spam-magnet! (i think she really should have deleted the weak link in the chain of trust as opposed to the blog itself but it wasn't my blog to decide).

blogging doesn't really seem "cool" anymore, now that 'blog' is a pretty common word. i do like to write (sure wonder what would have resulted from typing the thoughts flying through my head this weekend as i sat on the beach people-watching) but the computer has to be turned on, and then it takes a while. and nobody wants to bring his laptop to the beach (the sand gets in between the keys and it's hard to type.)

most likely my depressed mood is a hangover from this weekend.

i did come to one important realization though.
for the longest time, "going out" has had a different meaning for me than it did when i was 23, and i could never really pin down why.

now i realize it's my perspective. when i'm out with boyfriend, i don't notice other people checking me out; it's not something i really think about. i imagine i don't notice anyone noticing me because i'm with boyfriend and so am not to be seen as a potential mate. but when i'm without boyfriend, with just girls, i realize the difference. boys look at me as if they could potentially have me (they might or might not check me out; i just tell myself they do) because there's no boyfriend there to shoo away their gazes. and what i appreciate most about this is that anyone can look at me, but only one person gets me. (i say it this way to avoid the "look but can't touch" cliche. but if that's what you're thinking i'm trying to say, it is.)

plus, y'all know that my surname is code for vain and conceited. i like to be admired.

what i didn't realize until now

2007-04-24T16:56:00.000-05:00

saturday i spent the mid morning and early afternoon hours at a job fair. yes folks that's right a job fair. i talked to a million principals. the ones with whom i got into the interview stage always asked questions along the same lines. i should have anticipated these but oh well. i finally realized the truth to the following, after having answered "i love to learn, i'm flexible/open-minded, i'm a problem-solver"

what about you sets you apart from other candidates?

i did not study education in college. (wait for jaw to drop - it is a principal of a school i am talking to) i studied physics. (wait for some comment about "oh you must be smart then.") this sets me apart in two ways. one, during a particularly difficult semester i realized that if i could get through a major in physics, i could do anything afterwards because i could think of nothing more difficult. thus i came away with a healthy self-confidence that allows me to meet challenges head-on with no excuses. second, majoring in physics affected the way i think. i realized that when it comes to solving a problem in whatever aspect of life, i think of the problem with a very wide perspective - i see the problem as a whole and think about every aspect of the problem and how changing one thing causes another to change. this has made me a very thorough problem-solver. in sum, due to my different educational background, i bring to the profession a rigor and well-rounded perspective that someone with a different background might lack.

blender

2007-04-17T20:29:00.000-05:00

i know it may sound corny and uncharacteristic of myself, but let me just detail one reason why my boyfriend is awesome:

although, come to think of it, what i'm about to tell may not seem so uncharacteristic.

he made pasta for dinner. he had bought this pasta sauce that is NOT the regular pasta sauce that I buy and that is famous in the e household as the staple red sauce for dad's pasta nights of recent years.

this particular pasta sauce isn't as wonderfully chunk-free as the staple red sauce. in fact, it's got chunks of tomatoes, peppers, and onions, and the last time boyfriend made pasta, i picked out all the chunks with my fork and let him shovel them onto his plate.

tonight he volunteered to cook because i had assented to his concern that i have not been eating well (there has been lots and lots of honey bunches of oats with almonds in the recent past). when he pulled out the new red sauce and asked if i wanted any, i said no because it was chunky. but then i remembered this today show report on this lady who had written a cook book on how to sneak good healthy foods into kids' meals by using a blender. i told him, well maybe if you put it in the blender i'll have some.

no are you kidding?s, no are you crazy?s, no does-your-therapist-approve-of-this, just an "ok".

that is what makes my boyfriend awesome. he put chunky sauce in the blender so i wouldn't have to pick out the chunks.

the anti-chunk-ness is one of my most annoying idiosyncrasies, and would probably be the most difficult to eradicate. notice i used "would" as i don't plan on trying to be a chunk-accepting individual. ok it's not that i don't plan on trying. it's just so hard for me and it even is a source of anxiety when i eat out. i know, i know, please, i'm just BEGGING for sympathy over this one thing that may be the reason i'm quite thin. anyway, that's why i hate eating food that other people have prepared - not that i have anything against them i just have this embarrassing inability to tolerate chunks (and boyfriend can tell you - the last time i tried something with chunks in it i gagged for real).

Type rest of post here

warty-headed toad

2007-04-10T06:16:00.000-05:00

there has GOT to be something else more important happening that the today show is covering up by spending the first fifteen minutes talking about imus' nappy-headed hos. instead of being determined to find out what it is, i'm annoyed and thus driven to comment.

i think he is being a tool and i think @l sh@rpton is a warty-headed toad. honestly, when i saw him talking on the show the word "toad" came to my mind and happily, toad rhymes somewhat with ho. but anyway, here is the problem i have with all this uproar:

1. what about the asian girls and the white girls on that team? i bet if any of them heard his comments first-hand, which i doubt any of them did, they probably just rolled their eyes and thought, i don't think so - a ho is any woman who you could see on the jerry springer show.

2. using the word "ho" automatically makes a comment racist? does this mean that only black ladies can be "hos"? i don't think so. i call my sister a ho all the time. as i mentioned above, for me and i think maybe for people my age and younger, a ho is someone you'd see on jerry springer with her belly hanging over her too-tight jeans flashing the audience and screaming about her babydaddy. i'd like to think this term transcends matters of race.

new car

2007-04-02T17:20:00.000-05:00

my niece is cuter than ever. my sister is outside on the patio yelling at her babydaddy about "how come you never ask QUESTIONS?" but i do imagine what she is yelling over is of a more serious nature, as i overheard hear ask him, "i didn't know you had a HEARING!"

there are two posts from the first few days of my spring break i could write; the next one will be about the re-encounter with my childhood nemesis. this one i will keep to one topic.

i always seem to learn something new and terrible about my family every time i see them. i went out with my sisters on saturday night. we went to this bar that was nearly desolate; there was little to talk about with the lack of good subjects for people-watching, so naturally our conversation centered on The Family.

"did you know dad got in a car accident?" no, nobody said anything to me about it. "but he hasn't said anything about it. he started getting all these letters from lawyers. mom opened one and it said something about a DUI, and then there were these hospital bills for him and some lady. whenever we ask him about it he just says, 'my lawyers are taking care of it.'"

"but he'd been bad. every time we'd see him he'd have some scrape or bruise on his face. once he had this gash on his head. he was pretty bad."

"but he's not drinking beer anymore. or at least he drinks wine when we're out to dinner, and then he drinks that non-alcoholic beer."

i said, well it's good that he finally got in trouble and it looks like he's trying to change his behavior. i was so pissed when you guys were leaving the hotel in tahoe and he was still wasted. like that was going to be the last time i'd see him for a while and he was drunk off his ass. but i can see why he's not telling anyone about it, he must be pretty embarrassed.

"yeah and it was sad how he was drinking a lot when he was really depressed and should have gotten to the rood of it."

well now maybe he will. with our family's history of depression-holding-hands-with-alcoholism it's about time he dealt with it. something like a car accident was bound to happen. i hope nobody else was seriously hurt. it sucks that he had to get injured and then have nobody with him for support and/or to laugh about it (not that it's a laughing matter, but i remember the time he fell on the dirt bike and messed up the right side of his face and we were all joking about when he went back to work he could say, "well you shoulda' seen the other guy!")

work work work

2007-03-27T15:42:00.000-05:00

so i thought today would be rough because the other lady who answers the phone at work was at a professional development thing today (which i attended last wednesday and it reminded me that there is a stereotype for the image of a secretary for a reason).

but it turned out to be a pretty nice day after all: not my boss announced that her last day will be at the end of april!

also, the principal told me he would move me to ESL assistant next year!

about the secretary stereotype: glasses, nylons, thick ankles, bad shoes, outdated hair, bulging waistline. nearly everyone in the room but myself.

first time

2007-03-18T11:27:00.000-05:00

under the influence of la marimba:

kate asks where boyfriend and i would like to sleep. i think she's talking to boyfriend. my voice wants to be heard.

i point over to the wood-paneled wall and say, to no one in particular: THAT'S WAINSCOTTING! (OR IS IT WAINSCOATING? HOW DO YOU SAY IT?)

boyfriend laughs hysterically at my side. what the f*ck are you talking about, baby? she's asking where we want to sleep!

i reply, BABY, WAINSCOTTING IS THAT WOOD PANELING. WEREN'T YOU PAYING ATTENTION ON HG THIS MORNING? OH WAIT, YOU WERE ASLEEP DURING THAT PROGRAM.

a few minutes later, kate is taking a break from preparing the futon for us and is posing in various positions. I call them out:

NOW SHE'S FALLING IN THE WATER. NOW SOMEBODY PUSHED HER. NOW SHE'S HUMPING THE IMAGINARY SEAHORSE!

(yeah, i don't know where that imaginary seahorse came from either)

white collar migrant

2007-03-17T10:18:00.000-05:00

i do feel rather uninspired lately, which explains the lack of posting.

i am slowly but surely becoming a citizen of this foreign land called "the south."

i got my driver's license a couple weeks ago (on that clandestine wednesday sick day). and in three days the car insurance policy i paid for yesterday will become effective in this state.

the only thing left to do is register my vehicle. and soon i will be able to make a strong case for being a resident which will allow me to pay much less for grad school. phew.

and this is what i need to do to officially get "in the game" of looking for a teaching job: i need to take two exams and pass them, and then i will have fulfilled the requirements to start teaching. of course there are the courses and stuff, those come later.

there is one school district in this state that is consistently posting a need for teachers in bi-lingual classes - it's not in this area but i am considering looking into it because that's what i want to do and it's what i believe in. of course, there are the language immersion (all three of them) schools here, but i believe they are more difficult to get into.

anyway.

my chin is misshapen because of acne. and when i say misshapen, i'm not talking about the occasional blemish or two. i'm talking about a volcano on the verge of erupting that could only be quelled by using ice.

Type rest of post here

sleeping habits

2007-03-07T08:39:00.000-05:00

taking part of my clandestine sick day, otherwise known as my mental health day, i'll blog about the recent developments in my sleeping habits.

boyfriend works late on mondays and tuesdays - until 21:00. last night i poured myself a bowl of cereal only to discover that we were out of milk. so i left the bowl on the counter and went to bed to read more until boyfriend arrived, assuming he would return bearing milk.

i finished the chapter i was on, looked at the clock, and decided to doze off with the lights on - i couldn't go to sleep for the night, i still had to eat.

the next think i knew, boyfriend was kissing me. he had arrived! i asked him if he'd gotten milk. snap! i forgot! i'll go get some!

ok.

i doze off again and he returns. i eat my cereal and we fall asleep spooning.

this was at about 22:00.

this morning i woke up at 6:40, when boyfriend got out of the shower. since i was determined to take a sick day today, my first question was, where is my phone?

i had gone to bed with it sitting on my night table so that i could make my "going to take a sick day" call first thing. it was on the floor. on the display it said i'd missed a call at 23:00 last night.

boyfriend told me that my phone rang. apparently, i picked it up, put it under the covers, then looked at it, and threw it on the floor.

i have absolutely no recollection of this. i wonder what i would have said if i had answered?

welcome... out?

2007-03-06T16:29:00.000-05:00

despite taking the occasional jab from boyfriend about being de dedo parado (read: kind of snobby) my family is anything but the typical wasp family (for starters, my parents are divorced, my mom is catholic, etc.):

on monday my uncle gets out of prison after fifteen years.

and we're not talking about after serving time for a white collar crime either.

drunkenness and violence and brain damage were involved.

anyway i got an email from my aunt about having a "welcome home" party for him next week. i don't remember much of my uncle. i know my grandparents' first bird used to repeat his name in the same voice my grandma used to get his attention when he was still living with them. when i think of him i just think of a greasy-haired guy who smells like he just rolled out of his bed in his dark, closed, stuffy room in his parents' basement.

goodbye, cappie

2007-03-05T17:30:00.000-05:00

iced cappuccino was my pony's name, and they put her down last week.

i didn't write about it because i didn't have much to say nor did i feel like blogging at all last week.

but i will say this:
once when i was maybe eleven or twelve, i was taking a riding lesson on cappie out in the field across the street, the one with the jumps on it. being out in the open and a naturally nervous and obsessive/compulsive child, i didn't make her work too hard because i feared taking jumps at a canter. i'm sure it was in june, right after school got out, because the grass was lush and super green. right after clearing the jump, she put her head down to eat the grass, and i tumbled right over and down her neck.

only your doctor can determine whether you need to lose weight

2007-02-24T11:54:00.000-05:00

seeing as how there are sites dedicated to documenting cases where people have abused our legal system resulting in ridiculous warning labels on most products, i think i'd like to throw my hat in the game.

i opened up a piece of mail from my insurance company, something about a "health coach" available free of charge to help me make health-related decisions. quoting the letter:

do you want to... learn about diabetes? lose weight? quit smoking? know more about arthritis? talk to someone about your medications?

wait, you mean, i should talk to my doctor about losing weight? so this means, i have to lose weight? i'm fat? is that what they're saying?

see, as of yet there is no warning label in the fine print at the bottom about making sure you need to lose weight. y'all know i do not need to lose weight, it would, in fact, make me very ill.

apparently there is a hotline available 24/7 to talk to a "health coach"... the fact that it is 24/7 sends one phrase to my brain: CALL CENTER! which sends another word to my mind, OUTSOURCING! and a certain geographic area comes to my mind then too (NOT the USA).

i wonder what would happen if i called this number and said "well it said to call about losing weight...".

let's say they refer me to a doctor. i still have enough trust in the medical system here that if i saw a doctor about losing weight, s/he would take one look at me and refer me for a psych eval. but i'm cynical enough to have that small percentage of doubt in my mind.

of course i'd never do such a thing, risk my life to take advantage of the courts and fuck things up a little bit, but i would still like to see "weight management issues" in place of "weight loss."

think i got a discrimination suit?

KIDDING!

impending...

2007-02-22T19:56:00.000-05:00

after what seemed like a psychiatric one night stand, i walked out of the meds clinic with a prescription in my hand. (hey that rhymes but ignore it, i did not mean it to rhyme.)

it was a prescription for a new kind of psychotropic drug. i started taking it this morning.

i felt so confused and almost a little angered after my appointment last week. i was hoping to see a real-live psychiatrist, but i got the NP instead. which is ok, usually it takes less time to see an NP to get the same thing done as with a doctor (such as a gyno exam, unpleasant as they are.) but this time, i wanted to see a doctor; i wanted to know if i should really be on meds at all?

how do i know the difference between normal and needing medication?

being off-meds, i noticed a few things:
1, that normal things such as showering and getting dressed were wearing on me; 2, that i got obsessive thoughts.

at this point my obsessive thoughts orbit around existence. i always think things all the way through to the point where i realize there is no point and come back to the beginning of the thought. i also have lots of thoughts about death - not my own death, but that of people close to me. i can sum this up in three words: death, pointlessness, and impending doom.

an example of "impending doom": boyfriend bought a new car a couple weeks ago. it was the first time he had ever bought a brand new car so i said something like, "it's an historic day." then he stated the date: february 11th, 2007. immediately a thought came into my head that he HAD to take back that pronouncement, it sounded much too ominous. i realized that of course, the thought had no divine provenance, i'm not psychic. it just sounded like those words might have been followed with, "will be a day that shall live on in INFAMY!" realizing the nature of the thought is a good sign though, i can get out of my head and point at it, looking up at boyfriend and saying, SEE?

i wonder if i could ask him, as somebody outside of my head but with me lots of the time, to observe or keep a "my crazy girlfriend is on meds again" journal. y'all know how obsessed i am about knowing how people outside percieve me. just a thought.

cómo se dice, "regret"?

2007-02-20T20:36:00.000-05:00

se me olvidó.

cada día tengo más ganas de salir del pais. será un efecto de la falta de medicamento psiquiátrica?

bueno, de todos modos empezaré de nuevo a tomar esas pastillas mágicas, sólo falta un poco de investigación... el pesudo-psiquiatra me dijo, sin pensar más de un minuto en mi historia media inventada de salud mental (o la falta del mismo), bueno entonces intentaremos med x, que balancea las dos químicas que te afectan, y empezarás con la dosis alta que la otra dosis no hace casi nada

y con el tema de la medicina para las migráñias (mi médico me había dado la dosis más alta hasta que me di cuenta de que había una dosis mas chica que me quitaba los dolores de cabeza tan eficazmente como la otra sin dejarme como borracha) le pregunté, por qué no empezamos con la más baja???

porque la mafia farmaceutica dice que no...
digo
que no se ve el cambio de norepinephrine hasta la dosis mayor, así que te ayudará con los dolores de cabeza también...

anyway este post no tiene nada que ver con la pregunta del principio. iba a escribir sobre el regret, sobre cómo primero pienso que no tengo regrets pero al pensarlo mejor me doy cuenta que se...

tema de otro post.

suddenly i'm VERY OFFENDED!

2007-02-17T10:11:00.000-05:00

it just gets under my skin WRITHING AND CRAWLING and i'm just so OFFENDED! what can i DO?

can you BELIEVE that the university of notre dame uses a LEPRECHAUN as their mascott?

it makes me SICK! I'M IRISH! i take GREAT OFFENSE at their using the 'FIGHTING IRISH' as their mascott!

won't someone do SOMETHING?

if you haven't yet caught my sarcasm, see this.

my argument is valid though, you think? i'm irish and i'm not a drunk little leprechaun running around waiting to fight everyone who crosses my path!

so what are you doin' toNITE?

2007-02-14T16:48:00.000-05:00

alternative title: PARADE OF TOOLS

well, valentine's day is for tools. so my boyfriend and i are gonna use some hammers and hang some stuff on the walls.

i don't trust this SHIRKshirkSHIRK

2007-02-13T06:14:00.000-05:00

it is a result of the following idiotic post that i've had this song in my head: shake shake shake, SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE, shake your booty, etc.

i meant to say, i don't trust this PRINCIPAL any further than i can throw him.

case one: a group of three ladies comes into the office, each hauling a small child and a stroller, each (presumably) with a student at our school. they explain what is going on (some kids were bothering their kids on the school bus y ya ni quiere ir a la es-C U E-la.

they ask to speak with busybody, which is busy taking underprivileged children to the dentist, and it is unknown when he will return. i tell them that the lady who deals with bus issues is off today. just as they are telling me they will wait for busybody, realboss walks through the office. i stop her realquick and ask if she might be able to help out. she says she's off to a meeting but will be back in about twenty minutes; maybe the newprincipal would be able to help them?

newprincipal soon makes his way through the front office. i give him the short version and ask if there is anything he could do? he tells me that since he's not familiar with the situation nor with how the buses go, we'd have to talk to ms. busslady.

ms busslady happens to be out today.

fortunately busybody gets back from the dentist (apparently one girl had twelve cavities!) and takes the ladies, strollers, et al into his office.

busybody comes back at some quiet point at the end of the day and tells me that newprincipal told him when the ladies with the strollers were in the office, he explained to them that... something, it's foggy in my mind now, but it is a different story than the one i remembered.

as i remembered, he spoke to me, not the ladies with strollers, and seemed to imply "it's not my problem." but according to busybody, newprincipal's story involved him talking to the ladies with the strollers.

i might have remembered incorrectly, but when busybody told me newprincipal's take on it, i immediately thought WAIT! THAT ISN'T WHAT HAPPENED. and i was left feeling like he had shriked them off and then lied about it to make him look like he had not.

case two: monday morning.

when children do bad things in class, the teacher fills out "office referral" forms and sends them to the office with the kids. a particular child arrived in the office with said referral at the end of the day, right before the reading of the afternoon announcements. procedure calls for the child with the referral to be seen first by my realboss, then by busybody, then by socialworker, if neither is available. because realboss was about to read the announcements, i stopped into newprincipal's office and asked him if he would be the one that would need to deal with it.

he told me that either busybody or realboss would be the one to deal with it, not him; that apparently he was to be the last one to see the child if nobody is available.

am i wrong to feel the same feeling as i did in case one above? i realize though that the principal should see children first only in the most serious of circumstances. i dunno. i guess i'm split down the middle on this one.

no, superthin models make us feel good about ourselves

2007-02-10T10:36:00.000-05:00

yesterday i read an article (more like an unsophisticated blog post, much like the one you find yourself reading now, dear reader) titled: why super thin models may be making us fat.

yes, you read it right. you'll have to look it up yourself because as a member of the thin minority it is far beneath me so i will not recommend it to anyone.

(ok not really)
So my displeasure with this whole issue has been mentioned before. with the idea of skinny models somehow influencing our body image, i began to think. and then to remember.

i always talk of "playing supermodel." you know, putting on stilettos and strutting my stuff, "faking it till i make it" as my grandma always said.

so is it that hard to believe that super thin models have played some role in the development of my body image?

LOOKING AT THE PICTURES IN VOGUE, I IDENTIFIED WITH THE SUPER SKINNY MODELS AND SAW THAT IT IS OK FOR GIRLS NOT TO HAVE HUMONGOUS BREASTS. and that is how i started to gain self-confidence.

i am not making this up.
if any of you knew me my freshman year of high school, you probably know that i started doing track because I WANTED MY LEGS TO NOT BE SO SKINNY.

so i'll give them that one, but turn it on its head: it's a good thing there were skinny flat-chested girls plastered all over magazines because it make one skinny flat-chested girl start to feel ok about her body.

thanks russia

2007-02-10T10:02:00.000-05:00

last night i was talking with boyfriend about the UN and "why doesn't anybody stand up to the US?" and the rhetoric i've been hearing about iran that sounds oh-so-similar (from my POV in argentina when it happened) to the rhetoric in the lead-up to the war in iraq.

i asked, "has russia been in the news lately?" because i remembered seeing something about russia, but i couldn't remember what.

my main concern was though that SOMEONE ought to stand up to us. we act like the fat-ass bully on the playground that nobody likes but everybody tolerates because they're afraid of him.

so thanks to russia for getting the ball rolling on calling us the bully on the playground.

it works

2007-02-08T20:17:00.000-05:00

they were talking about girls today.

a handful of female teachers and the teacher assistant whose androgyny confused me the first time i met her, were talking about girls today (oh yeah? i know one! ... is she cute?.

so my gaydar DOES work.

but because of either my suburbia upbringing, involvement with the cult, or having been made fun of my freshman year of high school for whatever reason it is mean girls pick on girls who just want to be "cool" being at work, i got a little uncomfortable and left the room to look for something i knew i needed but at the moment i didn't remember what it was.

you know how when you think of something you need, then you leave the room to get it only to forget what it was? this was the reverse - i knew i needed SOMETHING but i didn't think of what it was until i was back in the room - it was sugar for my tea, which i keep in my desk.

it was just an excuse to leave the room because i was uncomfortable. though i did need the sugar for my tea.

i don't know why i was uncomfortable. i think i was afraid of being wrongly ascribed to a particular camp. besides, a few weeks ago i decided that i just like to be checked out, regardless of who is looking at me. i don't remember if i mentioned that i thought the androgynous parent was checking me out.

but anyway, i was right. so i might very well be right about the new principal.

you must be warm with all that insulation!

2007-02-08T06:58:00.000-05:00

i'm hoping both camps are able to establish one rule:

it is absolutely impolite to comment unsolicited on someone's figure.

that said, am i wrong to feel the slightest bit upset about tuesday when i asked a woman, whom i had never met, how she was doing, and she responded with,

"well you're lucky because you're so slim!"

not that i was hurt in the least by her comment, but it was unsolicited, AND from a lady i did not know. it's ok for the gym teacher (female) to tell me "you look great!" without my asking, because i know her.

but it's not like i'm going to say to a bald man on a hot day, "well you must be nice and cool with no hair on your head!"

or to a fat person on a cold day, "well you must be nice and warm with all that insulation!"

people, just don't do it.

what if i had said to her, "but i'm not slim ENOUGH!" i wonder how she would have responded. i just gave her a snort disguised as a laugh and a grim smile.

maybe he...

2007-02-06T16:50:00.000-05:00

notmyboss returned from a foray to officedep0t with a large whiteboard. a whiteboard larger than the one with which she had left two hours earlier.

busybody says, "aw, he's definitely compensatin'"

well, maybe he has big handwriting says miss e. besides why would it concern you what he may or may not be compensating for?

no, i didn't really say that, i just thought it up now. but that would have been funny. busybody is a bit of a homophobe. not saying anyone's sexual choices are in any way fodder for school gossip, but still.

i did tell busybody earlier, before the NewPrincipal arrived, maybe you're his type.

too cool for

2007-02-06T16:38:00.000-05:00

are we getting too cool for blogging?

see, before people in the mainstream started talking about "OH, the BLOGGERS..." we had to explain what one was.

now most people know what one is. well, i assume most people know. realboss knew when i told her i enjoyed writing (do you have a blog? really? how many people read it?)

is it just me? recently i've been less inclined to blog. maybe i can blame it on Winter or on Depression or Apathy or even Busyness... i suppose i will have to go back one or two (or three even?) years and look at my blogging habits then - do i tend to blog more or less in the winter months?

i would think more - with more darkness comes less desire to be outside of my house which means more time with either the computer or the tv, and since i don't watch too much tv, well, i'd probably have more time to blog in the winter.

but anyway.

or maybe i've just been out of ideas. maybe i've felt pressure to clean up my writing skills (i'm inclined to believe that the freer you allow yourself to be when blogging the worse your writing gets) so i've been trying to concentrate on one topic per post; maybe i just haven't had as many inspiring topics.

i used to write funny things that happened to me throughout the day - ever have that experience where you're writing something down and you're just giggling to yourself as the words come out? i LOVE when that happens. it hasn't happened for some time now.

do i no longer find myself funny, or are funny things no longer happening to me? or am i taking everything way more seriously than before?

has blogging become too popular? y'all know that i do not engage in many things that are wildly popular, unless of course, i engage in something right before it becomes wildly popular.

then again i'm surprised by how many people my age rely on myspace for their "social networking" - i only check it about once a week or two. myspace is something we're definitely too cool for - i refuse to use the myspace blog function - i think it's too ugly of a program, not as easy as blogger, and it has way too many cumbersome ads. blech.

i do too eat!

2007-02-05T19:03:00.000-05:00

and now i totally heart...

PLANTAINS!

it's amazing, something starchy that grows on a tree! and if you slice it very thinly you can fry it like potato chips! mmm i could eat me a whole fried plantain. and forget about its likeness to bananas. you might get the occasional whiff of banana-ish-ness, but then you look down at your starch-rimmed fingernails and bite into one of the fried plantain chips you've just pulled from the pool, and it is NOTHING like a banana!

i also love...

BLOOD ORANGES!

that's right, orange on the outside, BLOODY on the inside. for real, they really are deep red inside.

talking points

2007-02-05T17:50:00.000-05:00

1. notmyboss has not yet discovered how to use the feeder on the printer. i could take advantage of the fact that when she wants to print something specific she leaves her office to put that specific paper in the top drawer, then goes back and tells the printer to print it. I was going to suggest to her that she tell whatever she is printing to print to the manual feeder (that way it doesn't print until she puts the paper in) but then i realized the fun that could be had if she were NOT aware of this little phenomenon. so next time she comes to put paper in, i'm going to print something. and then run to the bathroom and snarkily laugh to myself.

2. boyfriend is great. he did half the laundry today. i felt bad b/c i wasn't planning on doing the other half until tomorrow (he said he would do his half tomorrow morning).

3. snarky is a great word. snark, snark, snark.

observe without judgement!

2007-02-03T18:11:00.000-05:00

in an effort to decompress,

[miss e] is so tight that if you stuck a lump of coal up [her] ass, in two weeks, you'd have a diamond.

i have found repetitive motions to be incredibly soothing.

boyfriend says i'm being an abuelita.

but i don't care! that's right, i am CROCHET-ing. it's time to embrace my inner nerd again. y'all know, i have been very good at pretending, even fooling many people into thinking, that i am a cool kid.

but i'm too smart/honest/sincere/interesting/intelligent to be the homecoming queen - i don't have a broad enough appeal.

but like the right hamstring that doesn't stretch as long as the left, that's how it is - i enjoy crochet-ing (any help on verbifying "crochet" would be appreciated.)

i also like the magazine wired, and am a slashdot addict. this weekend i was going to install a new OS to my laptop, but i'm just not ready. maybe next weekend.

i must slowly be weaned off msoft.

on calderon

2007-02-01T07:19:00.000-05:00

i laughed out loud last night while listening to BBC's the world on NPR.

they were talking about the rising tortilla prices. which might be seen, comparatively, as rising mcdonald's prices, right? what is it that poor people eat in this country? anyway.

people were protesting.

and according to felipe calderon, it's the united states' fault for the rising corn prices because we're using it to make ethanol!

there are many ills that can be blamed on this country, but blaming us for your tortilla shortages... that's stretching it a little.

on biden

2007-02-01T07:08:00.000-05:00

maybe people will call him racist or whatever, but at least he says what's on his mind and doesn't worry about the aftermath.

they just played on the today show the clip where he said something about 7-11 and having a "slight indian accent." that made me laugh out loud.

i also watched him on the daily show. he does not seem "malicious" to me - he seems like he just says things and he only thinks about them as they're coming out of his mouth.

he has this great wide, infectious smile, and he can laugh at himself. good move going on the daily show; otherwise i wouldn't know this about the smile.

but even if i had not seen him, i would still have written off his comments as "not really offensive" and, "people are making a bigger deal of this than should be made" and as tim russert said this morning, maybe obama even was pressured to have a stronger response to it (which is tool-sim and i don't care if you're my senator; don't be a tool, obama!)

and up your own arse

2007-01-31T16:34:00.000-05:00

we're having a personnel problem at work. there is this lady who thinks she is my boss.

today i discovered her MO:
when you're new/above her/older than her, she takes you around, laughing as she introduces you to everyone, being the good sycophant.

but when she thinks she's your boss or you're younger than her (i won't even introduce the race issue b/c i'm not sure she deals with many other irish-americans so i have nothing to compare to), she lets you know; anything you do, that might be contrary to her interpretation of orders given to her by superiors, even if it was in your judgement appropriate, she reminds you that anything you do or even think must first be run by her.

there is no reason to be rude. i would tolerate this constant criticism from my RealBoss. but not from notmyboss.

i was working in one of the offices on a special project given to me by Realboss. notmyboss comes into the office.

"what the F8CK do you want now, B1TCH?"

is what i wanted to say.

of course, she gave me hell about the decision made last night to clean up the paper and replace it with a neater version (upon my arrival at school, one of the teachers told me that mr. flamer was a real person who had called and spoken to someone in the office who had then put his name on the sign-up sheet.) i didn't go into much detail about it with her, and i'm glad i did not. in fact, i haven't told anyone that since some homophobic attitudes had been bouncing around the office, and some derogatory words had been used, i had reason to believe the name was put there with malicious intent.

in RealBoss' words, as she spoke to NewPrincipal after notmyboss had forgotten her strained muscle just long enough to ride straight up her own ass and roll into the office where i was working only to fart maliciously, miss e is sensitive (to these kinds of issues), notmyboss is not. that miss e took it down and cleaned it up only out of respect for him

Realboss also told me that NewPrincipal had intimed to her that "he thought notmyboss had come down really hard on miss e, and i completely understand her concern, and just to let her know that it's ok."

i didn't cry openly in front of notmyboss, but i did when RealBoss came to talk to me. and absolutely not out of fear, it was in appreciation of her compassion.

i had spent the previous half hour lost in self-recriminations, thinking, now i've really got to look for a new job. i'm so dreadfully embarassed. now it's going to look like I'M the one who thinks he's a flamer. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.(ok, not "dreadfully" but it was quite dreadful)

tomorrow when i meet with NewPrincipal I will ask for five minutes privately (IN FRONT of notmyboss b/c there's no way she can object, ESPECIALLY when she's in sycophant mode) with him, outline my goals and intentions at this job, explain my job title and how i'd appreciate doing only what i'm being paid to do, and maybe later he will let notmyboss know and put her in her rightful place.

and maybe i will even arrive with a resume in my hands to have something to show for my intentions.

other arses

2007-01-30T18:04:00.000-05:00

as i noted yesterday, the new principal has finally been introduced to the staff.

today, among those who work in the vicinity of the front office, there was much speculation as to the new boss' sexuality (though how it matters to running a school miss e has yet to uncover).

one staff member was talking about "i don't like to talk about it because i don't unda-STAND it. he's a FAYag."

thinking they were privy to information i was not, i asked, "so has my gaydar served me well this time?"

i didn't get into much discussion with this particular staff member because of the topic's obvious inappropriateness.

the new principal, in order to get to know the staff on their own terms, had put up a schedule with dates and times for staff to meet with him.

towards the end of the day, one of the teachers approached me and asked in a soft voice with a worried face, "do we have someone on staff here who is named 'xavier flamer'?"

i walked over to the door and saw the suspicious name. then, i checked the binder with all the staff information in it. there was no xavier anywhere to be found on staff.

there were a few other teachers (fuck i just remembered i forgot to lock the office doors. nobody's picking up the phone. damn.) and an increasing buzz about thinking "this was of a derogatory nature."

I took the sheets down from the door and decided to type them up, under the excuse that we had to correct the dates and clean it up (someone had whited out a line, and some of the dates were wrong).

there being no administrator (and my sensing WHO might have been responsible for the offending name, and he being the only other person in the office) i printed it out, along with the original, and put it on the assistant principal's seat with a note, how does this look? also, please ask me about another issue.

hopefully this issue will overshadow the fact that i forgot to lock the doors.

side note: after determining that we had no staff card for a 'xavier flamer' and coming to the conclusion that the name was put on there with malicious intent, one of the buzzing teachers called up a few minutes later to say that the person named is actually a retired principal who worked in The School District. but he would have had no way of knowing about the sign up sheet, unless they're friends, but then he would not have signed up for an appointment. neither had i seen anyone principal-like or old unfamiliar to me come up through the office.

mix my arse

2007-01-30T17:53:00.000-05:00

be it recorded:

the phrase "wintry mix" is hereby on miss e's blacklist and will no longer be used in this blog.

although miss e is quite certain she has not yet used "wintry mix" except in the context of blacklisting the phrase.

the phrase shall be blacklisted for the following reasons:

it is too general a way to describe the coming weather;

it is used way too often by meteorological professionals, as before the last cold spell residents of SmallCity USA were warned of a coming "wintry mix";

the obvious fact that the adjective "wintry," in the case it actually IS an adjective, has heretofore been known to appear only with the word "mix" appended and therefore has no other use in the English language as an adjective.

the exception shall hereby be noted that "wintry mix" may only be used in the context of criticism or of explaining its blacklisting; it shall NEVER be used as a real word.

that is all.

*tsk, new beGINNingsssth!

2007-01-29T16:53:00.000-05:00

today the new principal finally came to introduce himself.

the regional superintendent, who introduced him to the entire staff, made me do a little bit of a giggly-shudder when she said how much "passion he had for young children."

of course she meant passion for the EDUCATION of young children; most brains would have filled in the gap but mine did not; blame it on that i'm a product of my generation (for the same reason i refuse to abbreviate "cumulative folders" to "cum folders" because that just makes me feel diiirty. i always write it "CUME folders.")

as he spoke with his soft sing-songing voice, he told us how he had tried to adopt a child from russia, but when russia said no more, he adopted a boy from the US. i noticed there was no wedding ring on his hand; not that i would be interested but he looks young for a principal (early 40s) and having recently (?maybe not) adopted a child, it looks unlikely that he's in the middle of a divorce. besides, his bio named him a "single father."

are you thinking what i'm thinking? not that there's anything wrong with that; that would make us a very diverse school, indeed.

que barbaro, dude.

2007-01-29T16:48:00.000-05:00

barbaro

would be sexpot stud
now prancing with virgin mares
for his broken leg

i heard on the radio that they euthanised him today. not that it means anything major to me, it just provoked an "awww" from me. and haiku is fun to write.

oh, androgyny.

2007-01-27T14:13:00.000-05:00

as an undergrad in physics, i spent a lot of my time north of green street (read: on the engineering campus). This meant that i spent a lot of time surrounded by people who weren't exactly the most popular kids in their high schools and who, now in college, spent much more time in academia than in front of the mirror. so i used to amuse myself whenever i'd see a person whose gender was somewhat questionable.

hm, boy or girl? hmm, could be a girl because x, but could be boy because y, so, hm.

and of course i never would find out if i were correct, because you can't exactly go up to someone and question his/her gender without offending him/her.

i never imagined i would get caught up mistaken gender identities.

until last friday.

throughout the course of last week, there had been a particular child whose relatives were trying to arrange bus transportation. there were two people who came on behalf of the child. one appeared to be his tired mother (because she had long hair and was constantly sitting down.) the other appeared to be the child's older, middle-school-aged brother.

how nice that the kid's older brother is taking care of all this crap instead of his mom! how sweet!

generally one can assume the gender of someone else and be correct. the person who i thought was the older brother had one earring; wore baggy clothes; and had a soft-er voice than one would expect from a boy of his size any older than middle school. i figured this person was a middle-schooler because of the voice combined with the baggy clothes and mannerisms all pointed to the awkwardness of middle school.

at the end of the day friday, i was asked to summon this child from his classroom. the teacher (unwisely, i think, knowing then what i did not) answered, "who is here for him?"

whenever i'm asked this question about anyone i don't like to assume the relationship between child and adult; in this part of town things are a bit different than good old b-hills and girls become grandmothers in their thirties. i wouldn't want to offend the thirty-ish mother by saying she's the grandmother.

so I began with, "um, some of his relatives are here to pick him up." but she continued to press me. "um, i think it's his older brother..."

the "tired mother" began to laugh at this. both she and the "older brother" looked at me funny and after a confused split-second my face turned bright red.

whoever it was that i thought was the older brother was actually A LADY!

after a few minutes of embarrassed apologies on my part, i told her that, "it's just that you look so young, i thought you were in middle school..."

fortunately the child soon arrived at the office.

as the family was leaving I said to the lady, "again, i'm so sorry."

she looks back at me and says, "it's alright; you aren't the first."

LESSON: when unsure of the relationship between child and guardian, ask, "what is your relation to the child?"; be as gender- and age-neutral as possible.

2007-01-26T07:17:00.000-05:00

if i made the rules:

i wouldn't require every store to carry many ejemplares of their clothes in smaller sizes, b/c maybe there isn't much demand anymore for smaller sizes because everyone is getting so fat. but i would require that stores carry sample sizes for smaller people to try on so they can see how a particular article of clothing fits them, and then note the style and color and order their proper size online.

spain, inane

2007-01-26T07:05:00.000-05:00

what the fuck, spain?

i hate all this shit about "oh, skinny means unhealthy and if clothes are too small girls will feel fat and get eating disorders."

WHAT ABOUT US ALIEN PEOPLE WHO ARE NATURALLY SKINNY?

skinnygirl would have been banned from walking the runways in spain. was it not there they said that BMI of 18 was the minimum? well i'm 17.something.

I EAT!
I DON'T GAIN WEIGHT!

ya'll know i'm healthy! it's fucking hard enough to find clothes that fit me. will there soon be a niche market for minus sizes, where we'll only be able to find crap that looks bad and doesn't fit properly despite being scaled down? what about me - i'm too tall to be petite!

for real though, can y'all IMAGINE the EPIDEMIC we'll have on our hands when the GENETICALLY SKINNY people FEEL PRESSURE TO BE FAT?

Type rest of post here

independent

2007-01-23T07:00:00.000-05:00

half of my brain has a red-flashing CAUTION sign and the other half says, "maybe she was just having a bad day," and inhales deeply and thinks, "withhold judgement." (ooh, i never realized withhold had two Hs)

i began to think the evening previous, "uh-oh we've got another M. on our hands." And the next day she tells me, adamantly as if she's convinced beyond all reason or doubt, that she is a republican. (and i won't even mention the associations she told me she made with the name "obama" that i haven't even heard of people on the cable news talk shows using - yet.)

granted, she is about ten years older than i am and thus may be more set in her ways, or maybe she decided she was a republican before this new era of gangster-ish war-racketeering republicanism. if that's the case, i can't fault her for it. i just don't understand how she could still say that after all the shit that's gone down with them.

i told boyfriend: don't ever let me talk to her about any political issues.

and this is why i'll never associate myself with any party: (and why i'm beginning to think party association should be reserved only for politicians b/c once people categorize themselves they stop thinking - at least that happened in my case v.11.2000) i am too sincere - i can't ally myself with an entity that stinks in some way to me. i guess political parties by nature seem corrupt(ible) to me and i don't want to associate myself with something that might become that way.

something to think about re:my own issues. later though.

i ain't yo' bitch, bitches!

2007-01-22T12:02:00.000-05:00

there are quite a few stories from the holidays that i haven't told yet (such as my dad getting back at SIX IN THE MORNING completely STUMBLING DRUNK on the day we were supposed to leave tahoe). i guess i'll tell some of them in a series of short posts (gotta practice staying on topic).

so the topic of this is the gift i received from *someone* whom i would name but it wasn't an issue of what-you-got-me-for-xmas because i didn't really want anything to begin with (in fact, when boyfriend asked me what i wanted, i told him i couldn't think of anything. then when he began to press me, i gave him some abstract suggestions - world peace, a better job, fourteen hours of daylight, etc.)

the above mentioned gift was an ipod nano.

which at the onset was ok because of the "cool" factor. i didn't open it for a few weeks (b/c at apple they charge a restocking fee if the thing is opened.) in stead, i tried to figure out what to do with it. i got a tape deck converter so that i could use it in my car, but what would i put on it?

when i started downloading audiobooks from the library a year ago, after burning the tenth and last CD of i am madame x i decided it would be way more convenient to put these books onto an mp3 player of some sort.

fast forward to the ipod nano. last weekend boyfriend and i went down to my mom's house in SC and a lightbulb went on in my head: HEY! I COULD FIND AN AUDIO BOOK TO PLAY ON MY IPOD WHILE WE DRIVE THE TWO HOURS!

since i ain't no one's bitch, i began to search the freeware world for an alternative to itunes (my computer is old cranky and doesn't like big, fast new programs). i also downloaded three audiobooks.

and i unwrapped the ipod. and took everything out. and plugged it into my computer so it could charge.

when i got up next morning, it was still flashing "DO NOT UNPLUG". so i started up the computer and unplugged it in the tray icon and then the ipod lit up. i plugged it in again, and opened up the software mandated by the library to play the audio books. there is a button at the top that says "burn/transfer" so i clicked on it, whereupon windows media player opened up. the player even recognised my ipod.

but when i tried to "sync" the audiobook to the ipod, i got an error message, something about "protected content." well, i had the 30-day license, so why wasn't it working?

i searched the freeware world once again, looking in the forums for "WHY THE #@%$ DOESN'T MY IPOD WORK!?"

i should have known this or at least found out before opening the ipod - the audio book files are WMA-protected format.

you cannot put WMA formatted songs on the ipod.

after some tears and being pissed off and feeling bad for returning a gift and losing the restocking fee, boyfriend encouraged me to take it back. it really wasn't worth tears; take it back and i'll get something else.

now why the hell do other ~~mp3~~ players accept most audio formats (including WMA) while the ipod does not? apple fortunately has the cool gadget factor going for it so that people buy it oblivious to, or not caring about, the fact that you can't use WMA files with it. the first whiff of monopoly-ish-ness should come when the instructions tell you to download itunes before you can get your music up and running. and since you can buy music from there, you can only buy their music. it just seems like a racket - as in racketeering racket. for the same reason my next laptop will run linux instead of windows (in fact will be as microsoft-free as possible) - microsoft has just gotten too big, google is too eponymous and able to throw its political weight around. it's just all starting to smell a little fishy (as in swimmin' wit' da fishes fishy). (this may or may not be influenced by the fact that i'm reading The Outfit, which is about the chicago mafia and all the influence they've had)

i want a player that looks like a dog turd so that i can leave it plugged into my tape deck when i leave my car (if it's too cool, i'd worry about it being stolen, and who would want to break into a car only to put his hand in dog shit?)

so, i dragged myself to the mall and to the apple store. apple used to seem cool and a little edgy to me (using a mac kind of seemed like being part of a computer underworld, like raves were considered underworld), but with this newfound knowledge in hand, i was a little uncomfortable and a bit disgusted.

so in sum: i don't care what the player looks like, only that it is freeware compatible and upgradeable as more file formats become mainstream.

so apple, sorry, i ain't yo' bitch, bitch!

i really must be...

2007-01-19T06:45:00.000-05:00

a nerd.

i was reading this discussion on slashdot and thought to myself,

awww, the people on here read the bills just like i do!

chapter 1-18

2007-01-18T21:07:00.000-05:00

ivan sits in the center row. on his right sits uma. on his left sits nikole.

an interesting scent wafts up from the floor directly beneath ivan. uma turns her face in disgust, proclaiming to her friend barbra, "EW! ivan has STINKY FEET! he must be wearing the same socks every day to make a STINK BOMB!"

nikole, also noticing the odor, turns to ivan and asks, "hey, why do your feet smell so bad?"

ivan looks over to nikole and with a non-plussed face says, "decide for yourself. i could be trying to save energy by not changing my socks which will save me an extra thirty seconds in the morning.

or, (and this he says sarcastically while gesturing towards uma) i could be saving my foot-stink to make a STINK BOMB as uma over there suggests.

what do you think?"

barbara whispers to uma, "let's tell the teacher!"

uma, still turned towards barbra, says, "no, let's not. we can try to get his socks at recess, or figure out some other way to save our school from the STINK BOMB!"

nikole just giggles her silly laugh. everyone knows nikole is crazy. everyone also knows that ivan is a major smart-alec.

2007-01-17T17:00:00.000-05:00

hey y'all. i was sitting at my desk today when i realized geez, my writing has gotten really sloppy lately. have my three readers noticed? i have limited posting time btw, i'm about to go to yoga where i'm going to sweat and squeeze out all the toxins (i guess. anybody see any science behind the "detox" claims of hot flow yoga? and, what is detox?)

another thing: i miss sertraline. i feel like i was different when i was taking it - like i was more outgoing and capable of anything. now i'm not so omnipotent.

HAPPY RELIGIOUS FREEDOM DAY!

2007-01-16T19:55:00.000-05:00

here is an article i saw on slashdot that mentions, very briefly, sex offender laws.

see for a long time that has been an issue - the scarlet letter that sex offenders have to wear really bugs me. and in the article there are TWO instances where you have a (relatively) innocent person who could be branded for the rest of their lives b/c of something dumb.

boyfriend is always getting on me about all my endless hypotheticals (ie, re:the no fly list - what if i accidentally buy something from the wrong website and end up on the no-fly list or what if....) but this is an example of a real situation that DID happen!

so many other issues but i don't feel like it. i've got enough bullshit to deal with (i've put it off for tomorrow) re: my insurance company and a big retarded doctor's bill.

oh, HAHA, check THIS out. NEW HOLIDAY EVERYBODY!

what a buffoon. i would go into my take of this, but it should be intuitively obvious to the most casual observer.

(ok, ok, that he invokes the capital-A-Almighty when talking about religious freedom makes me a little nauseous. what if I don't believe in caps? what if i believe my "liberty" comes from the lower-case-e-earth?

v-v-v-VIIIIICTORYYYY! (in conan o'brien's nerd voice)

2007-01-09T19:57:00.000-05:00

check it out guys, he he, victory for the m-m-METRIC system! he he he SNORT!

slashdot

stories, 1st attempt

2007-01-08T21:24:00.000-05:00

after reading el zahir (que me di cuenta de que tengo que aprender portugués, porque aun traducido al español, le faltaba algo. las cosas siempre pierden algo cuando intentamos traducirlas.)

so i've been thinking about the "stories" i tell myself. in other words, i've been noticing how in some aspects i "live in the past."

let me explain.

in mid-december i was looking into how much it would cost for a july or august trip to BsAs - for all the usual reasons; less expensive clothes, a vacation, seeing some friends (only the real ones, no more of that amigovio shit ("amigos con derechos sin derecho de tenerte siempre" gracias, mana.) ideally i would have loved to go back there with lauren (with whom i've been friends since we studied in BsAs in 2002) but of course, not everyone's financial situation allows for two-week-minimum trips (mine being one of them).

so when i think of returning for a few weeks with one of my girlfriends, i think of last year and all the fun i had teasing the polistas with la francesa (of course by the fourth night i was tired of being the bonus chick)... which leads me to think of what fun it would be to go with someone i was actually friends with - but then, what would we do?

herein lies the "story" i tell myself: that in BsAs i have lots of fun partying and flirting and buying clothes.

no, i had lots of fun doing that in the past. that does not mean i love to do that now. which is the solution to my problem. lately i've been getting a little down on myself about how i'm not much of a partyer anymore, how i no longer imagine myself the mini-runway model (hey, i am the exact size twiggy was) who lights up a room and attracts all the attention (as nonnie always said, fake it till you make it!), how i'm not really on the cutting edge of fashion anymore (like i ever was, but for a time there i was able to put together some outfits - complete with accessories - of which i was proud).

the solution is this: i've got to remember, that is how i was in the past (not saying that i've drastically changed), under different circumstances. so why feel bad about not going out even half as much as "before" (and i can't exactly pinpoint when that "before" begins and ends)? other things have come into my life/happened that have brought new priorties: i finally know what i want to do (for now); i'm living very far away from "home" with the boyfriend; i have to buy (some of) my own food and cook occasionally. i (will soon be) pay(ing) rent. if i were behaving as i did at 23, things would be very different (i'd look older than 25, that's for sure).

it's like dirty dancing: there was never a sequel because a sequel wouldn't make sense - first-time experiences can't be repeated and experienced exactly as they were the first time. so i can't expect to get the same things i got out of my 23-year-old-behaviors as a 25-soon-to-be-26-year-old.

this kind of thinking helps me make sense of things that change.

like with my accent. it no longer makes sense for me to affect an accent i had nearly perfected (as far as a native-english speaker can perfect it) four years ago. if i were on the same continent as before, then the "accent" wouldn't even be a question, i'd be talking like everyone else around me. while i used to enjoy blending in (again, as far as a strawberry blonde irish-american girl can blend in anywhere in south america), here, now, there is no need. although every once in a while i do love speaking out loud to myself and enjoying the buccal gymnastics of speaking a language not my own.

1era semana

2007-01-07T19:06:00.000-05:00

yes, it's true, i have succumbed to the temptation of virtual hibernation.

what does that mean? for all intents and purposes, i am in a deep slumber, not to be disturbed until march. what this means for the outside world is that if you called me and left a voicemail, i didn't listen to it until three days after you left it, and it'll probably be another three days until i return the phone call. if you forwarded me a dave barry article, i marked it as "urgent" (which means it's highlighted in red in my email program) but i have yet to finish it, and most likely i won't reply for a week. the two people who regularly read this blog will notice the fewer posts; i just don't have the ganas.

there are a few things i'd like to expound on, namely:

the stories we're told and the stories we tell ourselves

ubuntu and my forays into the world of linux

mall and why this word can, in boyfriend's opinion, be the word that represents our society if you had to narrow it down to one word

so that's it. time to eat (at least i'm eating)

hm, puzzling

2007-01-03T16:56:00.000-05:00

just got the official scores from my GRE take one. this is weird, i can't explain it. in verbal unlike what i had said earlier, i walked out with a 710, 97th percentile. but when it comes to quantitative, i got a 550 and was only 36th percentile. written part was so-so, i ended up better than half of the people who took it.

i wonder if it's possible to redo just the one section; the thing is i know i can do better and i'm not sure if it was nerves, mental exhaustion (which is unlikely b/c i got enough sleep and had only just finished the written part - the verbal was last) or something else. i initially blamed it on "brain atrophy;" it's been some time since i've taught math or mentally reviewed the basics, and generally have not been working with math. plus when i studied the math section pre-exam, i worked with the example problems when i think i probably should have been working from the ground up. not that i'd need to learn anything new, i'd just need to get the engine started.

and part of it was nerves. if i came to a problem i felt would take too much time, i guessed and went on to the next because i was worried about not having enough time to finish all problems. i ran out of time on most of the practice math sections that i did.

i think i'm going to take it again and focus my studies on math. not that i can breeze through the other two parts, but the gre math problems aren't calc problems, they're reasoning problems. so if i up my math reasoning abilities, i think in general the rest will stay strong/improve.

hm.

and the POINT?

2007-01-02T19:20:00.000-05:00

this is the bottom-of-the-pit WORST time of year.

it's cold, it's dark, the holidays are over and i have yet to open up my credit card bill, after the huge feasts i want to go hide in my cave (down comforter) and sleep until at least march.

you may have already noticed. since christmas i have been spiraling into myself. emails go unanswered (if they're even read at all), pictures stay on my camera, things i mean to send through the mail sit by my desk awaiting the trip to the post office, phone calls go un-returned, voicemails spend various days as "new messages", i scowl at my phone whenever it rings and punish it by not answering. blog posts are less prolific and become less and less interesting.

i also become more and more gaunt. i have no appetite.

i constantly question everything i believe and arrive at the same conclusion every single time: there is no point to anything. i argue with myself, tell myself that, well, some people know this and live their lives seeking pleasure, or trying to "live their lives to the fullest." but what is the point of doing even that if one day it will all be NOTHING?

that is the one hurdle i cannot get over. pointlessness.

or sometimes, when i question things that happen in normal social course, i find that i don't subscribe to those conventions and end up feeling like i don't belong in this society.

and i absolutely HATE feeling that I am obligated to ask people "oh, how was your break?" i hate feeling pressure to be fake so i just retreat into myself and speak to no one.

i abstain!

2006-12-31T11:29:00.000-05:00

on this last day of 2006 i have, through following random links, come to the following important realisation:

i find much more pleasure being an observer to quasi-political semi-debates than i do in being a participant.

as an observer i can see the idiocy on both sides and, at the same time, keep myself from becoming emotionally involved! yogic philosophy - observation without judgement (of course "idiocy" could be judged as being judgemental; it might, but i'm just using one of my favorite words. judge it if you want.)

if you read the above-linked-to-blog-entry-plus-comments, you'll see what i mean.

that "liberals" are communist-deifying terrorist-luvin' crybabies;

that bible thumpers are ignorant morons

i have not yet read all of the comments on the above mentioned post; if you pick up on stereotypes that i have missed, PLEASE do not hesitate to bring them to my attention and i'll add them to the list!

this is how it's done

2006-12-30T11:05:00.000-05:00

maybe you've seen in places like vogue advertisements for the D&G version of the razr phone?

i searched for the V3DG and all of the three results that came back in english were about how to procure the above phone, in its unlocked version.

in other words, mall people do not have access to this kind of phone. i'll get to that later.

since my contract with x-shitty-mobile-phone-company is due to expire in august of the coming year, i've begun my own research into what kind of phone i want, what kind of plan i want, whether i want my credit info attached to said phone, etc.

at this point, provided i find an acceptable provider, i'm leaning towards pre-paid.

why? first of all, i want a GSM phone. i believe only two of the big mobile phone companies offer phones on the GSM network, despite the fact that almost the rest of the world uses GSM. and while for cingular the V3 is a GSM phone, the sprint version is CDMA (or whatever that acronym that starts with a C is).

if you're a mall person, this is OK because you have no need for a phone that works in other countries because you don't have a passport and, who the hell cares about going to other countries?

second, i like the idea of a SIM card. i like that if i feel like it, i could get a new sim card and change providers with the snap of a finger (kind of). i like that if i chose, i could purchase an international prepaid sim card online prior to leaving the country.

all this has led me to believe that non-mall people like to pay full price for unlocked phones so they have the freedom to change providers without having to change their phone. hence, you can't get the Dolce & Gabbana phone at cingular.

and this is what i will do. i like the freedom to choose whichever phone i want! (and no, i'm not even considering the DG razr).

i'm beginning to think i have some deep-seated issues with regards to "being someone's bitch" - i don't want to be sprint's bitch anymore! i don't want some big company telling me which phones i must choose from and how long i must use them to avoid cancellation penalties. enough!

2006-12-28T16:30:00.000-05:00

go to the bathroom before watching the following - you might pee your pants! i LOVE parodies!

degrees of consciousness

2006-12-21T17:50:00.000-05:00

i'm beginning to believe there are just different degrees of consciousness. that a person whom others label "intelligent" is really just more aware of his capabilities and how to take advantage of them to a higher degree than are others.

for example, this person is aware of the fact that 8+2=10; he is also aware of the fact that 27 is seven more than 20, and 83 is three more than 80 and that 7+3=10. so very quickly he can tell you that 83+27 is 80+20+3+7 = 100+10=110. he might seem smart because he can answer much more quickly than others in his class, but i think he's just more conscious of what he already knows and of how to use what he already knows to find what he does not.

parakeet nation

2006-12-21T17:41:00.000-05:00

the girl over there at the desk has just said christmas doesn't mean as much to her as it did before.

the other girl thinks (maybe not at this moment but with some frequency)ok, in church they say to be a witness for christ... and, subconsciously, hmmmm.... let's try to work that in somehow for the pagan over there.
she begins to speak about her son.
i'm looking for a montessori school; i think it would be best for my son's personality. because if we're going to bring about christ's kingdom i think he needs opportunities to learn while he can still be himself
pagan girl rolls her eyes. i KNOW she slipped that in intentionally because I'VE BEEN THERE! trying to work an anything to "witness" to some person who (i have judged to be) falling away. maybe somebody who'd never been in that opposite position wouldn't have rolled his eyes, but i know EXACTLY what she's doing because i've done it myself.

2006-12-18T20:55:00.001-05:00

is it that i like to travel

or that i like to escape?

vamos a la playa!

2006-12-18T19:32:00.000-05:00

yesterday, after deciding i was tired of all the cds i have in my car, i made a cd with a bunch of random (spanish-language) songs.

well, my selection of songs is not random; they're songs that remind me of some place/time (as i've said before).

so, for nostalgia's sake, i have a song on the new cd that starts with the same line i have chosen for the title of this post (ya'll know what song i'm talking about, and if you don't, you've never gone on a thanksgiving-night denny's hot chocolate run with me).

now the place this makes me think of has absolutely nothing to do with the song. i had heard this song long before i had ever heard of places like miramar and pinamar.

one thing i regret not doing during my time in the south is not renting an apartment for fifteen days to go party on one of the beaches everyone goes to in january. i did go to pinamar, but way too early so there was nobody there except for a few boogie-boarders wearing full wet suits, and a bunch of grey-breasted parakeets (remember my bird, charlie, who my mom gave to the tobacco store guy? thousands of charlies flying around and making noise, noise, noise.)

as i was driving back from my massage i was considering this. i wondered, is it too late for ME to ir a la playa, a mi me gusta bailar...

hell no!

hm last year when i was there... i didn't go to any clubs (ok, i went to one, but we ran into polistas that la francesa knew so we hung out with them at asia de cuba).

in other words, reassurance to self: you're not too old!

it's just that i feel like partying after escaping from the black hole of time that was the GRE. (i did quite well on verbal - 770 - but embarrassingly (for someone who studied physics) poorly - 560 - on quantitative. i blame that on not being mathematically active for quite some time. who knows how the written part went.)

mar del PLATA! HA! i couldn't remember the name till now - but i'm a snob, i wouldn't go there anyway.

seasons greetings (BLECH!)

2006-12-18T08:28:00.000-05:00

friday i told somebody that i was "one of the foot soldiers in the war against christmas." i'm not really. i just feel like vomiting if i'm in a mall or store too long with loud xmas music. no, it doesn't put me in the "holiday spirit." it makes me crabby.

i plan on giving gifts on the 21st and participating in "global ****** day" on the 22nd. some things just mean more to me than celebrations based on a religion to which i no longer belong. (no connection between my choice of the 21st and what's going to be attempted on the 22nd, but both fit here as alternatives to xmas)

plus, not celebrating christmas would open me up to choosing flights on the 25th, which are cheaper, right?

this isn't saying i'm an atheist or a buddhist or a fill-in-the-blank. although more than once i've thought "i'm a science-minded person," which means that religion does not often enter my thoughts.

it's highly likely that i still hold some bitterness and cynicism and disillusionment, remnants of my involvement with the cult and of politicians profaning religion.

wel, in a few hours i'm off to take the gre. blech.

GRE issue essay practice

2006-12-16T11:41:00.000-05:00

Some may argue that a country’s obsession with celebrity increases as citizens find themselves more in need of distraction from war and economic strife. Unfortunately, such generalization does not work in all circumstances. Countries face different degrees of economic strife and involvement in wars, and therefore have differing needs for “distraction.” Also, different countries have different values, and therefore may not give celebrity as much distinction as another country would.

Before a country can begin to obsess over celebrity, its citizens must first be able to afford to distract themselves, which depends on the degree to which a country faces economic strife and war. In some countries, war and economic strife are part of every day life, but not so severe that its citizens are faced with it directly. This happens in the United States, which is notorious for its obsession with celebrity. Though some citizens face war in a very direct way (with loved ones serving in the armed forces), the general public can afford to distract themselves because the war is not being fought on their soil; they can go buy groceries without rationally fearing being killed by snipers. However, there are some countries that are so torn apart by war and economic strife (such as Sudan) that citizens of those countries must first ensure their own survival. They must constantly consider the source of their next meal and must ensure they are not killed by a landmine, for example, and any distraction could be fatal. Not every country is able to obsess over celebrity to distract itself from war and economic hardship, because some face those realities more directly than others.

Even if citizens of a certain country are able to distract themselves from the harsh realities of their world, they may not necessarily choose obsession with celebrity as a way to distract themselves because of cultural differences. A country can choose to obsess over celebrity only if it has media outlets available; citizens will have access to more and more information and can choose what they will obsess over. However, not all countries have the same freedom to gather and disseminate information as they choose (such as China, where citizens are restricted in the content they can access via internet); citizens may be more isolated to the rest of the world so obsession with celebrity may not even be able to take hold. Furthermore, citizens of a certain country may not even be interested in accessing information about celebrities because celebrity is not given the same value in every culture as it is in the United States.

Facing war and economic strife may not necessarily cause the augmentation of a country’s obsession with celebrity. Citizens first must be able to distract themselves from problems within their country, as some face war and economic strife more directly than others. Then, citizens must have access to more and more information, so obsession with celebrity can be fed a constant stream of information. Finally, obsession with celebrity can only occur when citizens place a high value in celebrity and therefore choose to obsess over it as a means of escape. If these three conditions are not met, it is unlikely that obsession with celebrity will increase.

the ~~proceeding~~ preceding (ok time to study vocab) was my response to an issue essay prompt. i took way too long on it. my brain seems like it is very slow today. maybe i need more rest.

ok one more thing

2006-12-14T19:51:00.000-05:00

for a long time now i've been considering paying some attention to some arguments on the right. for example, it occurred to me that maybe if i want to understand WHAT is the objective in iraq, WHAT it means to actually "win" the war, i should look on the right because I can't make any sense of anything the president says; perhaps people on the right could interpret it for me.

and then i came to this:

If this trend continues, employees who believe in God, marriage and traditional morality
eventually will face discrimination. Wal-Mart suppliers owned by people who hold traditional
values will face loss of contracts if they don’t endorse immoral behavior.

i happened upon this website kind of by chance, and followed the links to this article/position statement/whatever it is to see what are the arguments against same-sex marriage (because i don't get it).

the above quote illustrates a philosophy/law i'd long forgotten since leaving the cult behind: whoever isn't for us is against us.

I really don't believe that people who endorse certain values will be discriminated against. we have laws against discrimination that extend to protecting people against discrimination based on creed or sexual orientation. also, wal-mart is a corporation; it is a body that bends only to one creed: profit. wal-mart could care less whether someone can marry his boyfriend, so long as they can attract their money.

further, the author states that companies that don't "endorse immoral behavior" would face loss of contracts. back to the corporation issue - wal-mart will endorse anybody behavior that will bring more dollars. now let me get into this for-us-or-against-us mentality. wal-mart could care less, so therefore wal-mart is not FOR keeping marriage coed. since whoever is not for this group is against them, wal-mart is AGAINST groups that advocate heterosexual-only "family values." so i think that's how this group came to the conclusion that wal-mart would require endorsement of "immoral behavior" from the companies with which it does business.

ick

2006-12-14T19:32:00.000-05:00

so the rude pundit has posted a diatribe over what's going on with the senate. i don't want to go into details so you can read about it here

the "rude" description of his blog (and of this post) notwithstanding, i'd like to add to it: what if something terry schiavo-ish happens? will republicans do a flip-flop on the right to life issue?

ok, that's mean of me to suggest they would say "unplug the machines!" just to regain control of the senate (is this what's at stake?). but that was what came to my mind after thinking about this news.

biohazard

2006-12-13T16:47:00.000-05:00

miss e wonders how many times today did her dear readers wash their hands?

hand-washing has come back on me like a compulsive obsession. i did not count how many times i washed my hands, but i did count obsessively the number of pushes on the soap dispenser (three) and the number of pulls on the paper towel dispenser (three). as far as the TIME spent at each hand-washing, read the following:

happy birthday to you
you live in a zoo
you look like a monkey
and you smell like one too.

happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you,
you look like a bear
and you run like one too.

and that is about how long it takes to wash my hands; of course, after bubbles have been distributed evenly throughout the surface area of my hands.

that's right class, can you spell epidemic? that is what's going on at our school. every day this week at least a hundred kids have been out sick, and at least twenty have left school early on account of this illness.

working up at the front desk, all manner of parents and babies and grandmas and other people stand behind the counter, suffering from all manner of flu/cold/idiocy/etc. they cough into their hands, then use the pens to sign in/out their children. children ask to use the phone to call home, sneezing into the receiver after i give them permission.

i asked a girl after school who was sick to please not stand so close to my desk (i don't want to get any germs!)

rule of thumb: strep throat has its own unique scent - you can smell it on someone's breath. and in my experience, if you have come close enough to someone to smell their breath and it smells like strep throat, you might very well get sick later on.

so that's what i do: i maintain an appropriate distance from people to avoid inhaling germs. i also spray/wipe down the counters, door knobs, tables, chairs, pens, notebooks, desks, etc. with lysol and those clorox disinfecting wipes.

so much depends on my staying healthy. i take the GRE on monday and if i'm sick or tired or ill-rested, i'll make stupid mistakes, or have to pay more money in order to get the test rescheduled.

so i am washing my hands obsessively.

i'm going to go take a vitamin C.

first xmas card

2006-12-07T21:29:00.000-05:00

highlight: receiving the christmas photo card from my grandparents. every year they send out one of these. the photo is great - grampy is sitting on the bench in front of the organ? piano?... there is a yellow and blue parrot on his shoulder, and a red, green, and blue parrot perched on his hand trying to bite him. oh and in the hand that is not about to be bitten he holds two dog leashes (when did they get a golden retriever?). next to him is nonnie, with a red, blue, and yellow parrot in her left hand, and a yellow and green parrot on her head.

that's right - my grandparents have four birds and two dogs.

office gossip

2006-12-06T20:14:00.000-05:00

apparently monday somebody hit the car of one of the teacher assistants at the school. the assistant didn't know who had hit her car (no note was left) and the damage must have been significant, because she called the police about it.

but today, in walks a police officer to the office asking for the assistant who had filed the report. he told her that, normally you have 72 hours to file a police report. to which she replied that oh, i found out who it was, they confessed that they did it.

IT WAS ONE OF THE TEACHERS!

ok, dumb factor on both sides:

1. the assistant - should she not have asked around school about if anyone knew anything or if anyone had by accident bumped her car in the morning before filing the police report? (i'd like to give her the benefit of the doubt on this one - maybe the damage was significant and she was parked in a location that cars pass so it could have been someone who parked or someone who was dropping off a child)

2. the teacher - she either didn't notice that she had hit someone's car (but if it was damaged enough to warrant a police report one would think she must have noticed), or she was aware and didn't leave a note because she thought she could get away with it (or we could give her the benefit of the doubt and suppose she didn't have any note-writing materials in her car and that she planned on making an announcement to the school about it later in the day a la "would the owner of an x car with license plate y please contact the office" and she forgot about it).

i'll take note of how the story unfolds...

anti-partisanship!

2006-12-06T19:50:00.000-05:00

i promised i wouldn't get so emotionally involved in political issues, but i just read something that made me nauseous.

well, technically i have not experienced an emotional reaction but rather a physical one. so i'm not getting emotionally involved.

religion should stay out of government. i don't care if we were founded by quakers/puritans/etc. if we're all about religious freedom i don't understand why some religious groups ~~complain~~ make issues about certain things that are legal that don't flow with their certain beliefs. and relax - freedom of speech is not going anywhere so cover the back of your minivan with jesus fishes for all i care.

good lawd, in the article to which i linked above, the author calls abortion in the inner city as GENOCIDE against inner-city blacks. (the first thought in my head: so will you be the first to sign up to adopt one of those inner-city babies to keep the mother from having an abortion? will you donate your money to fund universally useful things instead of to fund your mega-churches?)

let's face it people (and let us not get all hypocritical on right-to-life issues and say state-sanctioned murder is ok) if you don't believe in abortion, it's very simple: don't get an abortion.

oh, and let's stop talking about bipartisanship. how about NO partisanship? (yes, yes, insert arguments detailing why there need to be political parties) politics is profane.

aburrida: ser o estar?

2006-12-05T20:47:00.000-05:00

some days, like today, i just feel so boring. but then i think, maybe i'm just bored.

maybe the reason i have nothing interesting to write about is because i'm not interesting. or, maybe i'm not interesting because i don't have anything interesting to write about.

i had a few ideas here and there. they must have fallen out of the pocket that is my short-term memory. or maybe like a person with marbles in his hand that fall onto the bed just as he nods off, i've become tired and have lost my marbles.

*INSIGHT* could this scenario be the origin of the saying "lost her marbles"?

again and again i revisit the question what is wrong with me? why am i not so interested in my job and/or life anymore? of course, ones job is inextricably linked to one's life as for most it is our livelihood. life is always better when you love what you get paid to do (getting paid to do what you love is a different story though).

last year i loved doing what they paid me to do.

this year, i dislike doing what they pay me to do. i keep telling myself, ok it'll only be a short time before i get a real job; i've got the fall back threat of taking my situation to HR and demand they pay me as much as secretaries are paid or let me work as what i'm classified as: a teacher assistant.

I AM NOT A CAREER SECRETARY. i wish they would stop treating me as if i were. and here is where my ego gets folded and creased out of shape: the financial secretary tries to give me orders of what to do. (and we all know that when my ego gets squeezed, snob juice seeps out - kind of like the same process involved in making olive oil); yes, i can feel the little flame just below the surface that given the right circumstances could surge out of control. (not really; i wouldn't be rude to anyone at work, i'm at the bottom of the totem pole here). so stopping short of judging her (does she have a career in mind or is she just trying to put good shoes on her feet) i'll just say that i am not classified as a secretary, and my boss is the assistant principal, NOT the financial secretary.

(like today, i was working on a project for MY BOSS and the financial secretary sticks her head in and says, miss e you're needed up front, the phones are ringing and we need an interpreter. pissed me off.)

this has been a year of ~~humiliating~~ humbling circumstances. i'm still not sure my ego will be any more under control, but for a while there (last year) i was having doubts - have i gotten to cocky? proud? conceited? know-it-all-ish? over-confident?

and at what point is a lot of confidence too much confidence?

NOT MY PROBLEM!

2006-12-05T19:42:00.000-05:00

the source of my cynicism (one of them) is that people call the school and expect us to take care of THEIR problems.

16:00 today i was getting ready to leave. phone rings. it's a lady asking me about transportation; i couldn't help her so i told her i'd have someone contact her. it would have been fine had she said, ok, thanks! but she went into her life story ... well i'm a single parent and i can't be out waiting for the bus with my daughter because i had lost my job and i got a new job and i have to work and if i'm late i'll lose my job and bla bla blah bla BLAH!

lady, it's not MY job to make sure your daughter gets to school and you keep your job. I don't want to know about it, thank you.

technically i don't do the phone thing - i just pick them up because i can't stand the ringing noise and that's the only way to make it stop.

anyway i was logging off my computer at 16:05. the phone rings. and rings. and rings and rings and rings and rings, just DARING me to answer it.

sorry little fucker, i can control the volume of the ringer.

i feel old.

2006-12-04T17:35:00.000-05:00

realized this today: christmas no longer means anything to me. or maybe better said, it no longer means what it used to.

1. my family is fractured. any traditions we had are long gone (they were last year too, as i was in buenos aires and everyone else was at home)... namely, christmas tree decorating, exchange of presents, waking up to huge piles of presents and then getting dressed and the extended family comes over and leaves even more huge piles of presents in the living room.

2. i am not religious. if i have anything to do with any god i am agnostic - the divine is not knowable.

i prefer to celebrate something that means something to me. the winter solstice means that from that darkest point the days will only get longer (i missed it last year and instead got to have TWO summer solstices! if only every year could be so bright.) my birthday, conveniently two weeks (three weeks?) after xmas, would be a much better present day because it is all about ME and nobody has to feel bad about commercializing my birthday because i promise not to ask for a PS3 or a ntndo wii.

and am i the only one who takes her ear away from the phone in disgust when, while waiting on hold, i hear xmas music on the other end?

i also feel old because, well, i kind of am old. here we are again dealing with priorities and stuff - did i have the most fun as an early twenty something? i have to admit it's going to be hard to beat - my early twenties were all about traveling and living in other places (ANYwhere but HERE!) and now, am i too old to do it again, would i ever want to try it again, this time in french with english subtitles? it would be nice, but i don't think it would be feasible to do it again. maybe working on my masters degree will open up a whole other world for me.

and i am cynical, cynical CYNICAL! i hate poor people!

ok that's not true, i just prefer to look the other way and pretend they don't exist (which includes covering all the mirrors because i myself am poor at this point (but there are so many dimensios of poor...)

maybe i should buck up and be a spanish teacher.

los analfabetos y la ingenua

2006-12-02T18:56:00.000-05:00

durante los pocos meses en los cuales fui maestra, tuve que trabajar con los padres de mis alumnos. sólo había una que me dijo que "no leía bien, por eso me ayuda mi hijo." sin embargo, nunca tuve que aguantar una persona que era realmente analfabeta.

si en el barrio anterior creía que eran pobres, en este se estarán muriendo de hambre (si es que el nivel de alfabetismo de los constituyentes sea alguna indicación de pobreza).

el otro día vino una señora, cuyo nieto asistía a la escuela donde trabajo de asistente administrativa (acá en el sur se le llama "secretary" pero voy a mantener algunas de mis costumbres norteñas, una que es el habla de political correctness). lo que pasa es que la señora recibió una carta escrita en inglés, y vino a preguntarnos de qué se trataba.

se trataba de recibir almuerzos gratis o a costo reducido - su nieto había sido elegido para un audit, para asegurar que la gente no esté aprovechándose del sistema (mentira). ella tenía que hacer de nuevo el formulario verde, en el cual hay que nombrar todos los alumnos que viven en la casa y cuánto ganan por semana, 15 días, o mes, y abajo nombran los adultos que viven en la misma casa y cuánto ellos ganan. afortunadamente (pensaba yo) los formularios son en inglés y castellano. entonces le di el nuevo formulario. la señora me pregunta, "pero cómo lo hago?" a la cual respondí que hay instrucciones en español al otro lado del formulario. y estaba sonando el teléfono así que no la podía atender tanto como ella quisiera (o esperaba?)

cuando dejó de sonar el puto teléfono, volví a la señora, que todavía no había puesto ningún nombre en el formulario. no me imaginaba que no lo podía leer. le expliqué de nuevo; casí la tomaba de la mano (i had to take her by the hand, sé que en este caso la expresión idiomática no funciona pero no conozco otra manera de decirlo) porque le expliqué cómo hacer cada paso, que para mí, los pasos eran super-obvios: arriba decía "nombres de todos los niños que asisten a las escuelas de CMS/nombres de los adultos/sueldo/escoja: semanal, cada 2 semanas, mensual/

bueno. en fin reslovimos el problema. pero no me di cuenta hasta mucho después que la señora no sabía leer - aunque el formulario estuviese escrito en castellano no lo podía leer.

lo que me molestaba era que le tenía que ayudar hacer TODO - como si me lo esperara. estará muy acostumbrada a que los demás le lean todo?

el jueves vino otra mujer con sus dos hijitos - la de 5 años recién cumplidos al cual quería inscribir en el pre-kinder, y el menor, que estaba corriendo por toda la oficina corriendo el riesgo que le cayera encima el arbolito de navidad.

me dice, "mire señorita. recién llegamos a CMS. que pasa que el padre de mi niña está en la carcel y le tiene muy inquieta y quiero inscribirle ya para que no pensara en eso." y yo, la ingenua inexperta le dije que le podíamos ayudar si me esperara un minuto. le fui a preguntar a la otra secretaria, que me dijo que no nos encargamos de inscribir los niños de pre-kinder porque tienen que pasar por la oficina central para las evaluaciones y para decidir cuáles servicios especiales recibiría se le hiciera falta. lo cual se lo expliqué a la señora. cuando le dije que tenía que pasar por la oficina central me dijo, no tengo transporte, voy en bus." le dije, bueno entonces voy a llamar a la oficina a ver si puedo hacer que me den instrucciones para llegar, porque yo tampoco conozco muy bien todas las partes de la ciudad.

bueno hablando con la gente de oficina central, me dice que sí o sí tenía que pasar por allí, que tenía que ponerse en la lista de espera. esta información también se lo repetí a la señora, y agregué que pensaba que podía pedir que le metan en esta escuela. y ella me dice,

"pero cómo se llama esta escuela?"

que, no en ese instante pero después que ella se pusiera medio enojada, put me over the edge towards cynicism!

ella me repedía "pero no me la puedo inscribir aquí?" y yo continuaba con la misma respuesta. no le entraba en razón que NO LO PUEDE HACER ACÁ! al final le di el número de telefono de oficina central y que la llamara a partir de las 14:30 porque estará una persona que habla español.

"pero no me la puedo inscribir acá?" con esa mirada de desesperación, o de estar al borde de la locura.

en fin logré que se fuera. después recojí el formulario de matriculación que le había dado antes de que conociera el proceso oficial. me acordé de que me había intentado hacer lo que la otra señora me hizo - que le tomara de la mano para ayudarla a inscribir su hija. llegué hasta la primera pregunta, "donde nació el hijo/a"... ella me dice "acá en NC" y le digo, ok está bien, escríbalo.

"lo pongo aquí?"

cuando vi lo que había escrito parecía que lo habia escrito un niño del 2do grado.

la otra secretaria me comentaba "esa gente se está aprovechando del sistema - viste como el niñito estaba corriendo por todas partes? está buscando una niñera, no educación!"

ahora estoy empezando a entender por qué la gente al lado conservador se ha hecho el tema de inmigración ilegal parte de la conciencia pública. algunos llegan a este país sin ni siquiera sabiendo leer, y espera que los ayudemos! mire señora si usted está haciendo un esfuerzo para aprender (al menos) cómo leer, si se está responsabilizando de su vida, está bien. pero YO NO LA PUEDO AYUDAR SI USTED NO SABE CÓMO AYUDAR A SI MISMA!

channel 9 this time

2006-12-01T06:18:00.000-05:00

ugh. i have to take a shower BEFORE work. well, i'm not being forced to take one, but i figured that out of respect for the tv cameras that are coming today i would at least be clean. not that i'm dirty or anything. but i'd still like to look ok.

labels! topics!

2006-11-30T18:05:00.000-05:00

i must admit i'm writing these silly short stupid posts just to add to my label cloud. there's a link further down to the instructions for how YOU can get YOUR VERY OWN label cloud. if only i could make mine more cloud-like...

2006-11-29T20:14:00.000-05:00

one of the assistants, who is from germany said to me as i slipped through a door she had just opened:

i'm glad you asked me to hold the door, otherwise i would have missed you. i don't talk to people who are under 160 pounds very often.

eso

2006-11-29T07:13:00.000-05:00

so if you've not been paying attention to the (very, very, SUPER IMPORTANT) news, you should know that our favorite first daughters are in BsAs (or at least were; i haven't yet looked it up).

i'm going to comment on something that is a little old, from last week. namely that one of them had her purse stolen while she was in a restaurant in buenos aires.

so everyone knows that bad stuff occasionally happens to good people. sometimes it is out of our control, but we can take steps to lessen the probability that not so good things, like having your purse stolen, happen to us.

YOU DUMBASS! do you think that just because YOU'RE PART OF A DYNASTY and you have your own SECURITY OUTFIT you can leave your purse lying wherever you want and not think that there's a chance it could be stolen?

they should have told you you need to be aware of your stuff all the time, even with secret service agents. it just makes you seem retarded.

(watch, i'll get my purse stolen and have to eat my words)

veeery familiar......

2006-11-29T07:10:00.000-05:00

quoting the NY Times

“But the reality on the streets of Baghdad suggests Maliki is either ignorant of what is going on, misrepresenting his intentions, or that his capabilities are not yet sufficient to turn his good intentions into action.”

does this remind you of someone?

condescending

2006-11-28T21:46:00.000-05:00

el sábado mientras caminabamos hacia los autos pasamos un grupo de chicos. yo caminaba atrás, la única sobria del grupo asegurándome que el novio borracho no se cayera otra vez. las tres chicas adelante caminaban juntas, hablando de cualquier cosa (una banalidad como recycling). los chicos cuando pasaron dijeron, "drunk SLUTS!" y fui la única que los oí. se lo dije a liz. liz me contesta, what assholes! y yo, yeah, drunk little fuckers. frat boys. entonces dije, bueno, no deberíamos estar enojadas, más bien sentir lástima por que sobrios, los frat-tards sólo alcanzan usar el 10% de la mente.

en otras palabras, son unos pobres hijueputas gonorrea malolientes (gracias al novio por esa contribución).

puedo ser condescendiente si nos insultan, no?