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Showing posts from January, 2009

I Dream of Spring

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Just before I wake up, I've been dreaming that it's spring. I notice it's spring because everyone's wearing light pretty dresses and the sun is warm on my arms and shoulders and forehead and we're outside in the grass eating strawberries or something lovely like that. It's that perfect, cool, breezy warm. And I'm happy.

For some reason our house has been toastier in the morning, and I feel so cozy under our faux-down comforter that I believe it's spring. I think about what to wear to work, and I have to remind myself that it's chin-freezing cold outside, that there's a three-inch layer of ice on our driveway and sidewalk, that I must incorporate tights into my outfit or die.

And still, I don't believe it. I think, but it was just sunny and springy, wasn't it? Self, I say, that was a DREAM. Give it up already.

And still, at the end of the day, when I'm trying to steer the cold wheel with the tips of my fingers and avoid crashing into…

Let Me Take You to the ER! La la la la la la la la lalala!

Sam loves this Frank Zappa song that goes, "Let me take you to the Beach! La la la la la la la la lalala!" It's kind of silly, with high-pitched voices like the Beach Boys, but the actual music is complicated and rich--sort of what Zappa does. Sam used to sing it to me when we were dating. We had my brother put it in our wedding video, which caused him to ask, "You do know this is your WEDDING video, right?"
Anyway, I'm thinking of that song, substituting ER with beach.

Again with the emergency room for us.

Here's what Sam said about his tummy ache last night: "the intestines felt a bit like one of Santa's little helpers was in there, trying to scrape his way out with a razor blade." Fun, no? We called primary care, they told us to go in. So in we went. Poor man. I wonder if we'll just get used to taking him in on a quarterly basis, for one reason or another.

This quarterly visit was a breeze ... sort of. (Now that I said tha…

This is My Mama.

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She was five.

She was pretty.

Still is.

In Happier News

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I got word this morning that my essay on my polygamist ancestors got accepted for the CEA conference in Baltimore. So we'll head down there beginning of March. Any thoughts on Baltimore?

More beautifully, Sam and I bought tickets for Europe. We got a deal. And in the end, throwing around dates, we decided if we're gonna go, we ought to just stay and stay. So we'll be gone for almost the entire month of June. Sweet bliss.

We fly in and out of Paris, but we're planning on bopping around all over the country. Any suggestions? We're planning on some time in Paris, a few days in London, a week or so in Norway. And we're thinking one other place. Any thoughts, Folks?

Also, if you've had lovely experiences in any of the places I mentioned, tell me everything, please.

Only downside: leaving our kitties. Cue another picture of Meatsock, as a babe.

I'm Going to Be Delicate Here.

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It's clear as of today that it's not me that's sucking at this job, it's the job that's sucking. I mean, it's a bad situation. Talked to an dear mentor from days past who knows what these jobs should be like and he said, wow, that's not good.

So what does one do when they find out their "dream job" is not so dreamy? What now?

Here are jobs I think I'd like, not that I trust myself to pick anymore:

*studying elephant family dynamics in Africa
*studying the connections between bird songs and whale songs
*writing for radiolab, thisamericanlife, or speakingoffaith
*writing documentaries about cool smart people who are dead
*designing energy-efficient and lovely and low-cost housing for poor folks
*chef
*librarian for a big pretty library
*forest ranger
*photographer
*bookmaker
*studier of brains
*person who makes up names for ice cream flavors
*cat
*yes, cat, like the animal. their job is to take naps and be cute. i want that job.

(i swear the little meatsock po…

Sleep Tight

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This is the second Sunday in a row that church has been cancelled. That's right, cancelled. It has DUMPED snow the last two weekends, and it's just too risky for the whole ward to try and get there. You think this might be kind of cool: a bishop-sanctioned day off. But really I just go sort of loopy. Today I stayed in bed until two, napping and reading and petting my cats. Then I got really really depressed. Which is what usually happens when I stay in bed until two.
So, I offer three things of interest:
1. Sam and I were convinced we had bedbugs last night. Utterly convinced. Our bed and mattress are brand new from Ikea, but still. We were so itchy that neither of us could sleep. After blissfully considering flaying myself, I decided we should change the sheets (which we had just changed the night before). Sam lifted up the mattress pad to discover a frightening collection of small black things. They were about twice the size of poppyseeds, looking like eggs or dead bugs or som…

Can I Teach With My Eyes Closed?

What is with these students giving me weird looks? I've got this one class that seems a total dud, at least so far. We've met three days, and I've managed to squeeze a total of five comments from the whole lot of them. Instead they look at me like I'm nuts, like I'm wearing a monkey on my head, dancing the jitterbug, and eating a raw potato.

I wish I WERE wearing a monkey on my head, dancing the jitterbug, and eating a raw potato--with my eyes closed. That might be more interesting. Students are so boring when they're quiet. Boring and scary.

It doesn't help that the first two days of class I didn't have a PEN or a PENCIL, so I had to borrow one to take roll. How did I end up with everything but a writing utensil? How? And then today I left the house late and got stuck in horrible traffic on top of it. So I was twenty minutes away when class started. Real smooth. I called and had someone run over there to tell them to wait for me, but by the…

Bleeding Papercuts

Started back at school yesterday. Before my first class, making copies: the English faculty member who reminds me of my kindergarten teacher and always corrects me came in, said hi. I was literally trembling, I was so nervous and scared about being back there, having to see these people who have become big scary meanies in my head. I was trembling so badly that I gave myself TWO papercuts. And they bled profusely for some reason. So there I was, trying to have a pleasant chat about Kindergarten Teacher's holiday break, bleeding my heart out. Good grief.

But anyway, it's been okay so far. Incredible what even one semester of experience will do to make me more comfortable. I'm teaching the same classes, too. So I can directly apply what went terribly wrong, I hope.

Not to mention, hurrah for thyroid medication. For those of you who don't know, the symptoms are as follows: weight gain (hello 30+ pounds in the last few months), lack of energy (yes yes), low immun…

Finally.

The doctors of this town have FINALLY deemed me worthy of thyroid medication.

After getting tested over and over again with various docs, after detailing my symptoms for them (which are ALL symptoms of low thyroid), after drawing them pictures of my immediate-ish family tree (which has a half-dozen thyroid problems perched in it), and after giving up hope they'd ever believe me. Now. Now they fork it over.

I know it seems weird to be sort of, like, happy about having a disease. But trust me. If this stuff works, it's wonderful news in Dejaland.

More on Christmas

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Tonight, to break my fast, I made avocado/apple/turkey enchiladas. I know that sounds weird, but boy oh boy they were yummy. As were the Black Bean Brownies I made this week, off a recipe on 101 Cookbooks. (Note on brownies: You can't taste the black beans. Really, honest, you can't. Also, I substituted 1/2 cup of applesauce for 1/2 the butter, as a cup seemed like a lot. And I mixed agave nectar with honey and maple syrup 'cause agave nectar costs 4 million dollars and didn't want to use it all.)
My kitty, Meatsock, is curled up beside me. Occasionally I can hear him make a small kitty squeak. Sam is asleep on the couch, snoring much louder than a kitty squeak, and listening to Bach on Pandora Radio. (Note on Pandora Radio: If you haven't discovered the joy that is Pandora, get yerself over to that website. Such a happy place/thing. Sam and I are obsessed.)
Anyway, I'm thinking about Christmas. We had such an exquisite one. Maybe my favorite yet. Here's a li…