Happy Halloween!

I pretty much mentally write this letter to.. oh... just about everyone and everything I know. Ignorance is definitely bliss.

AND Charles Schulz was a genius.


Happy Halloween Everyone!

Friday Night Salon

The new salon topics are in! Quick! I need your input!

Discussion topics for November 2, 2007:

1. What is the future of the book?
2. Does America have a "national identity"? Can it? Should it?
3. To cause or increase suffering is always unethical.

The rest of me feels better..

It is 1:30 in the morning and I am getting dangerously close to turning into a flesh eating zombie. I WISH! Dude. I think being undead would be preferable to what I'm feeling right now, and yes, I am totally being overly dramatic and whiny and I don't give a shit. I'm in pain.

I keep wondering what number I would say if the doctor asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being a minor discomfort and 10 being the worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life. And by the way, I would like to know how I would know when I've experienced a 10. Or really, I wouldn't like to know, but you know what I mean. In any case, I'm totally counting on passing out by 8. That being said, I think my pain level is at a 7.

I think I have a sinus infection. At least, that's what I hope it is since I am on an antibiotic for that. The right side of my face is in constant throbbing pain that will not go away no matter how much Tylenol I swallow or warm steam I inhale. It could also be an ear infection or some sort of tooth rot, I suppose, if we are considering all options. But I think that because there is no direct pain in my mouth and the only small relief I get is from pinching the top of my nose, we can at least rule out anything dental and rule in (?) something sinus-y.

Sitting up helps with the pain tolerance, too - or am I simply distracted? Either way, it's hard to sleep sitting up and/or/whilst pinching my nose. Believe me. I've tried.

I've also tried breathing it out. I've tried to concentrate on my inhales and exhales while counting. If anything, I thought that by controlling my breath I could at least stop the panic that goes hand in hand with not having slept for three days. Mindful breathing seems to work a little, but I'm not good enough at it to breathe away the pain.

The good news is my doctor started me on antibiotics yesterday, so there should be some improvement soon. And if there isn't, I 'm going to make one of you roll over my foot with a car or cattle brand my inner thigh so that I can think of something else besides the right side of my face for a second. Hell, just punch me in the face. OR Maybe I should go head to head with that Georgian guy who thinks it's cool to pull helicopters with this ears. I bet I could give him a run for his money. We are probably sharing some similar feelings these days.

In the mean time, bitch, moan, and cry.
bitch. moan. and cry.

Yeee-HAW!

Thanks for this Sarah! (I think..)

Sick Call

I am so glad that this week is over. I have been sick since last week and have struggled through the week, sometimes barely being able to lift my head. It is so ridiculously stupid that I would rather go to school and suffer through the week, begging for my students' consideration than miss a few days of work and double my work load by preparing for a substitute. It is nearly impossible for teachers to miss work. My body hates me right now, and I know that I have prolonged my recuperation time because I refuse to miss a day unless I absolutely have to. I know that my class will be fine without me, but I also know that days with substitutes end up being wasted days filled with meaningless busy work that I have to prepare and then grade on top of my huge work load. Plus it puts us behind and, in a school where we only have enough resources for the teachers to share class sets of novels, we have to be considerate of each others' time tables. Getting behind is not an option.

sigh.

At least it's the week-end. I have some serious couch time I need to make-up. Hopefully by Monday I'll be well.

Do I laugh or do I hide?

I'm not sure what to make of this. It could be the trailer for a blockbuster thriller.. or comedy. Jamie thinks it may be something akin to Night of the Living Dead, but I think it's more like Snakes on a Plane*.


Proposed (Classified) Bill Will Defend Against Flesh-Eating (Classified)

*Of course I meant "Mother Fuckin' Snakes on a Mother Fuckin' Plane"

Oxygen?! Who needs it?

It's research paper season so all blog bets are off. My soul is being mercilessly pressed by a huge stack of papers that NEED to be marked, so much so that I feel like I should whisper, "more... weight..." as I gasp for my my last breath in this my final, stoic declaration. Or maybe it's this HORRIBLE flu that my students have generously shared with me that is constricting my airways. Either way, can't...breathe...

"All Summer in a Day" Day

It stormed today! A big one complete with downed trees, loss of electricity (lots of teenagers screaming), and that ominous green sky which is usually a red flag for tornadoes. It very much reminded me of Ray Bradbury's short story, "All Summer in a Day." I used to share this story with my seventh graders on especially stormy days since the inherent fear that comes with booming thunder, violent winds, and blazing lightning allows for the story to be more real and therefore effective. I still distribute the story to my seniors sometimes.

"All Summer in a Day" teaches a lesson about treating people with kindness. I think this is a good reminder for children of all ages, especially for those of us who "grow-up" and forget the lessons of our childhood. Needless to say, bullying doesn't stop in high school, and though sticks and stones can break bones, words, when we allow them, can crush our spirits and lock us in our own metaphorical closets, leaving us trapped underneath what seem to be never-ending storm clouds. The result of being injured in this way is what Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. refers to as "internal violence of the spirit" which can be as damaging as external, physical violence.

I've been noticing a lot of 'meanie-bo-bellinis' in the grown-up world lately, even among friends. Maybe we should all step back on particularly stormy days and read Bradbury's short story by candlelight. Maybe that way, we can remind ourselves that occasionally we need to "awaken a sense of moral shame" in ourselves, especially that part of ourselves that knows right from wrong. We need to remind ourselves to be continually practicing "understanding good will" because in doing so we remember that these are the methods which build and rebuild true community - the only vehicle that will change the world for the better.

Join the Living!

I have very fond memories of my collegiate experiences at TTU. A lot of them begin with "You'll never believe this, but when I was a stupid college kid..." and end with "but I'm really glad I did it, anyway." Many of these stories include my friend, Carol.

In college I spent a lot of time at the Wesley Foundation, a campus ministry that operates under the Methodist Church banner, a place where I met some of the most incredible people I know. See, for example, Rich. And the incomparable P-ta! I've briefly introduced you to Carol, whom I also met at the Wesley house, in a long-winded Easter memory that I wrote last year. After several years of missing her with good intentions to reconnect, I think I'll finally be able to do so now that I've read a certain article about her and her recent creative shenanigans.

I adore the awesomely vibrant Carol and have always been inspired by her. Some of my memories with her include helping her establish the Renaissance Coffee House (a little experiment that attempted to bring folks of all faiths together in a spirit of community -a new beginning- and was successful for a few years), experiencing the joys jumping on the coolest trampoline ever in Perry, OK, and watching Waiting for Guffman 3 (or was it 4) times in a row and laughing until all the oxygen was gone from the universe. Carol and I were not afraid of socks and Birkenstocks and she was one of the first people with whom it was easy for me to sit in silent, prayerful meditation without feeling intimidated or self-conscious. She has that ease about her, that peace. She has always had vision.

Thanks (again) to P-ta who posted a news clipping about Carol, I am working to reestablish contact. She is currently on a mission of sorts. She and her partner, Kate, have decided to go on a journey to "Join the Living." Their goal is to travel cross-country for four months in a truck that runs on recycled vegetable oil that they borrow from the trash containers of various fast food establishments along the way. This pilgrimage is the launch for their newest project called Join the Living. The project's aim is to build an imaginative, spiritual community full of new found leaders who use their gifts to better the world. Check out the links to see exactly what Carol and Kate are doing on this journey, how they are doing it, and with whom. I think you'll be inspired by their encounters. Check out the new mag called Bread and Oranges that is currently being assembled and that will be released in print in 2008.

The Join the Living project makes me want to do more with these hands of mine. I do have some projects in the works (baby-steps), and maybe this will be the inspirational boost I need to get the stagnant cogs moving.

Cheers Carol!

Recap - Juan Toja Wig Night Fans

I missed the best event in Dallas last week!! My favorite FC Dallas player, Juan Toja (and his super-sonic mullet), was honored last week in an event that sparked a global camaraderie among all soccer fans in the universe! Ok. Perhaps it wasn't that extreme. But still it was cool. And I missed it! See the video for the scoop.

Christine, who knows my quirks and likes me anyway, actually brought me a wig from that night... because she ROCKS DA HIZZ-OUSE! So now, I get to play, too. And you better believe that I'll be wearing my mullet to the next FC game I attend. I already wore it all day in class yesterday. Yeah. FYI, in the future, it may not be such a great idea to wear your trademark Juan Toja wig whilst trying to teach about existentialism. The effect was sort of lost.. in all of that glorious hair! Ya-yuh!

Don Henley - Boys of Summer

Here's a classic! Remember this? I heard it on the radio yesterday and went all nostalgic. I do love the song, but mostly I remember being mesmerized by the video. It was something I couldn't quite understand as a kid. My understanding has improved a little now that I'm older..

I'm the Monster

They caught Melanie's murderer yesterday. I don't really know what to expect now. Because they caught him in Mexico and because the Mexican government does not extradite criminals to Texas unless the death penalty is off the table, I suppose I can expect that this man will be convicted and sentenced to life in prison.

The prison system, torture, and execution are topics that have been in my head lately. These are hot button issues right now as can be seen in the news and on TV and are addressed under the banners of human rights issues, the economy, and Homeland Security. The presidential candidates have debated these topics in relation to the "War on Terror." One of the biggest shows on TV today is Prison Break. Currently, the Supreme Court is reviewing lethal injection methods and, depending on their decision, there could be a moratorium on all lethal injection executions, though I don't see Texas being very happy about it. We are inundated with these controvercial topics daily.

I live in a state that executes more convicted criminals (innocent and guilty) than any other one. And this, oddly, is done proudly as in, "Hang 'em high!" It makes no sense to me why this would be a positive for our state since it doesn't seem to decrease the crime rate and we execute a high percentage of people who have been found innocent after the fact. A friend of mine says that if we are going to execute criminals, we should do it in a very public way - like in a town square and everyone is obligated to attend. That way we would actually have to face the horror of execution.

That being said, I know the right response, the humanist response, is to say that all executions, all torture, and any inhumane treatment of criminals is wrong. I should wave my fists in the air and remain unwavering in this opinion, despite what my state does, what my friends say, or whatever. But honestly I'm having a hard time with that today. The person I aim to be is extremely disappointed with me right now. I'm not able to step into that enlightened realm of forgiveness and understanding. Or maybe I'm choosing not to.

This man who, without a doubt, murdered my friend - who bludgeoned her to death and then set her half naked body on fire, burning her beyond recognition.. Why should he get any respect or human consideration?

I guess there's no redemption for me today. I'm the monster.

And guess what came through last night..

It was a very small front that only changed the temperature a couple of degrees, but still it was the first time I had seen rain since.. I can't remember the last time I saw rain!














And of course I stood in it.














It was a gorgeous front!














Just in time, too - a lovely birthday gift. Remind me to send a thank you note. :)

Dear Supreme Being - A Letter Regarding Barometric Pressure

Dear Supreme Being,
I know it's last minute and all, and I know that I am selfish, I take more than I give, and that universal divinity/harmony supersedes any feeble personal request. But I was wondering, for my birthday, do you think you could send a cold front my way? I would be so appreciative.
Sincerely,
Ginger
p.s. Happy birthday Russ Johnson! (wherever you are in the universe)

Don't Trust Your Cat If He's a Vegetarian

So, I was sleepily padding around the kitchen at 6:30 this morning, trying to recall all of the seemingly complex instructions (in the right order) on how to operate the Mr. Coffee - water, coffee filter, measure coffee, start button - when I realized that Casey was being a little too friendly with all of his purring and morning leg hugging. I decided that perhaps Casey's extra attention this morning was a result of an empty food bowl, and how dare I make myself a warm, creamy, vanilla-y mug of Folgers when there is a starving being living under the same roof.

Yawning, I shuffled over to the food bowl.

This was a mistake. A big one.

So, I admit that I am a total hypocrite in that if I thought about what I was actually eating, meat-wise, and thought about the fact that this on my plate was a living being with parents and instincts, I would choose to be a vegetarian. But because I love bacon and 6 oz sirloins cooked medium well, I choose to not think about these things. I choose to totally indulge my carnivorous taste buds in moments of pure selfish delights - aka yummy meateriffic dinner. And that's what makes what I'm about to tell you a heinous exercise in bigotry.

As I said, I shuffled over to the food bowl and initially saw that it was full. In fact Casey, as usual, had placed one of his toy mice in the bowl so that he could shake it, like a true predator, and then enjoy the "kill" of Iam's Indoor, Weight and Hairball Formula.

On closer inspection, I realized that what was in his food bowl was not one of the toys Rich and I usually find a year later under the sofa, but a REAL live dead field mouse!

Casey has been known to bring in field mice from outside, usually to play with them. He brings them in, drops them, they run, he chases, Rich runs behind them with a plastic cup (wrathful curses flooding the room), I snicker to myself quietly in another room. Casey catches the mouse and carries it back outside. There is a stern lecture (given by Rich) about a cat's job being to keep mice OUT of the house, not to bring them IN. I'm certain (though I haven't actually seen it) that then some eye-rolling occurs followed by a slammed door. And then we all breathe in. We all breathe out.

Until today, Casey had never killed a mouse, much less dropped it in his food bowl for us to marvel at. And that explains the copious amounts of purring attention:"Hey look, Ginger! I'm a contributing member of this household. Look what I can do! I'm both protector and provider!"

My initial reaction was, "Casey J. Daisy-Hunter, get in this kitchen right now! What is this?! Explain yourself!" followed by, "Oh my God. Poor little mouse. Should I have a funeral for it? Do we have a matchbox to bury it in? What will I say in my eulogy? I know the perfect burial plot - to the right of Bagel's grave, but a little left of the patio. Should I even invite Casey to the service? It's so sad. Do NOT think about the movie Ratatoullie! My cat (sniff) is a MONSTER!" followed by, "Oh Jesus. I'm not touching it. Should I wake-up Rich? Shit. What do I do?"

So here's what I did - I blogged about it. Well, actually, I did wake-up Rich to tell him and his reply was, "I'll take care of it later." My response was, "OK, but I hope it's still in the food bowl when you decide to get up."** And now I'm blogging about it. I can't go back into the kitchen, even though a fresh cuppa is beckoning to me. And I guess I'm happy that Casey decided to put the mouse carcass in his food bowl and not in my shoe or on my pillow. And technically, I should support the fact that my domesticated cat still has predator-like skills and is not (gasp!) a kitty vegetarian. But I am very much a domesticated pet owner. I don't like prey appearing in my kitchen. (she said as she decided to fry bacon for breakfast - after the mouse removal takes place, of course)

See? A total hypocrite.

** In my defense, according to our wedding vows, Rich is in charge of the discarding of all things heinous/dead/gross. I'm in charge of yelling in the direction of said thing before it gets discarded.

Keep Your Trap Shut

For the last few weeks I've been a big fat blog neglecter. I would love to say that there are reasons for this such as:
"My mind is so full of things to say that I can't decide on one thing!"
or
"I'm saving all of my smart entries for NaBloPoMo."
or
"I have been doing such interesting/significant things with my life that I have been exhausted by the end of the day and can only collapse the second I walk through my door."

The truth is that these are partly right. My mind is drowning swimming, that's for sure. But it usually is. (Thanks ADD!) I am making a NaBloPoMo list, but it currently is holding only one idea. AND if interesting/significant things include marking papers and studying like a mad fiend for school, then yes, my life does fit criterion 3 and I do come home and completely crash from exhaustion. Hence we have blog sputter.

Mostly though, my voice is gone at the moment.

Last night at the salon, many interesting points were made, and though I agreed with most of them, I found myself opposed to some of them. There were a few times where I had to hold my tongue and literally look at the floor so that I wouldn't fly across the room at some of the folks who were making some fairly convoluted assertions, put my finger in their faces and yell, "You are all ignorant ass hats! No wonder our _________ (fill in the blank with country/education system/people) is (are) struggling!" But I didn't, much to the relief of Rich and the Fougses.* It seems that most of my opinions are reactionary these days.

Paula, one of the ladies who attends the salon regularly, who speaks in a dramatic Southern accent, elevates her voice in such a way that you want to stand on the chair and yell, "O Captain, my Captain" before you realize that what she's talking about is the distinction between frozen corn dogs and fresh ones. (She has that kind of command in her voice..) Anyway, Paula said something that made a lot of sense to me last night. She was specifically talking about the overabundance of information. That we (and specifically younger generations) are stimulated by such an information overflow - from the news, the Internet, texting, gaming, etc.-, that we have a difficult time sorting out what is relevant and true from that which is nonsensical and bogus. We are subject to millions of sound bites, so many that our brains are overloaded and our actions become stagnant as a result - as in we succumb to the couch for TV premiere week in order to have a distraction from the hourly barrage of information.

I think she's right.

At least that's what happens to me. I literally shut down my brain, and have done so everyday for the last few weeks. But then I get angry with myself for being complacent or uninterested and that makes me very reactionary or snippy to varying opinions. That and I won the "I'd Rather Do It Myself" award in 4th grade, so my ego has decided that the world is idiotic and I could do a better job of it. "Just give me the flippin' country, Dubbya. No. Don't say anything. Just hand it over. Now, Dubbya. Don't make me count to three." And, really, what do I know about anything? My snippy reactions are, of course, juvenile and silly. So, I just stop and wallow in my own self-defeat. "Keep your trap shut, Ginger."

And I do.

*But I did have one lash out when someone nonchalantly said that the Koran teaches people how to be terrorists. I held my composure and used my teacher voice to say that that wasn't true, and that it was an ignorant assertion to assume so. (And these are well-educated people!!)

Friday Night Salon

The salon topics are in for this Friday! As always, I SO appreciate your input. I like to take your (my personal community's) ideas to the salon where they are genuinely heard by the salon community and then by each individual's personal community, as that person carries our ideas home.

Discussion topics for October 5, 2007:
1. Is "dumbing down" inevitable in a democracy?*
2. Does a society's treatment of its incarcerated reflect its values?
3. What is the future of the book?

*We've already talked about #1 here, but haven't addressed it at the salon yet. Posted in the comments are your initial thoughts on #1. Please feel free to add to/tweak your ideas. The rest are new topics this week!

Enjoy!

A confession

I grin so big that my cheeks hurt when I realize that it's time to wait in the pumpkin patch again..

I'm almost 32 years old.