The End

NaBlo ends today!! FREEEDOM! I hope the muse will return now, and I can get back to writing when I feel like I have something to say. That means I actually have to do things that inspire me - like read books that have value and that add to my life, and work on creative projects and ideas. It's my fault for not allowing myself the time for those things lately. Hopefully now that the litmag is at the printer and my IB class is winding down for the semester, I'll have some time for intentional inspiration. We'll see! :)

It's Garbage

Today was a high anxiety, stress filled day - one where you are searching for a cavern to scream into and can't seem to find one. It's never the right time. Plus, it's not very professional or ladylike. I feel the anxiety in every inch of my being, in the corners of my lungs, weighing heavily in my gut. This is one of those 'episodes' that I can't shake easily and no amount of mindful breathing or half smiles can help. There is no justifiable reason for it, other than my genetic code has a few damaged numbers. My stress may be a culmination of several little things, I suppose, but the point is that I need to find refuge sometime soon or I'll explode. Playing this on LOUD while screaming the lyrics usually helps:
Caution: It's not very nice. But then Garbage never is. And I love 'em for it.

Random Girl

Is NaBloPoMo over yet? I felt a little more inspired the first time I attempted this, but I am discovering that writing is the last thing on my mind lately. And forced writing is torture for me and probably for you too. So here's some randomness:

1. I saw Beowulf today - the 3D version. It was OK. The movie version was similar to the real, epic version, and I appreciated that they incorporated some of the Old English into the script. Angelina was naked, and we'll just say that Rich isn't the only one in our family who is OK with seeing her. Some people are just beautiful.. and I want to beat the crap out of them in an envious rage...even if they are CGI versions of themselves.

2. During the preview for Beowulf, I saw that there will be a 3D version of a U2 concert, 'cleverly' called U23D. Despite the title, I WILL see this! I don't care what you say, Mark. Just seeing the preview took me back to a time when I had all the faith in the world - when I was enthusiastic about creating change and making things better. I think those feelings are still in there, but they are walled in by cynicism these days. I guess that's the price of allowing yourself to become something of a grown-up.

3. I'm mad at myself for admitting this, but I sometimes go to Starbucks. Mostly I go there because I can walk to one from my school...and from my house.. and from anywhere where there is a corner nearby. For a while I was insistent on NOT going there, especially with my local coffee house within driving distance. But then evil Starbucks created a peppermint mocha that I CRAVE almost daily. They have their hooks in me AND they have a drive through window. I'm screwed. Maybe when the holiday is over - when the peppermint mocha gives way to something Spring-ish and cold- I can break myself of the habit and go back to the good and noble America's Best.

Hey, this was something of a post. And what's more, I still haven't missed a day. Only two more to go and then it may be time for a long blog break. Or maybe without the NaBloPoMo monkey on my back, looming over every key stroke, I'll actually be inspired!

N Word Update

This is a follow up to this post that I wrote a few weeks ago about a teacher who was trying to illustrate the power of words as an introduction to Huckleberry Finn (a required text for all students in Texas) by giving a district mandated lesson which required that she write the N word on the chalkboard. This offended a student who filed a formal grievance, requested that the teacher be disciplined and do community service, and for the book to be banned from the classroom. At the time, though a topic of interest because I do teach literature, I felt a little bit distanced from it, especially since I don't teach that particular text anymore (it's a junior level text and I teach seniors). Unfortunately, this incident sent all of the surrounding districts into a flurry of reactionary decisions, including my own, resulting in the banishment of the N word from our school.

What that means is that the teacher still HAS to teach the texts (To Kill a Mockingbird, Huck Finn, and Of Mice and Men), but they are not allowed to say the N word, the students are not allowed to say the N word, and no mention of the N word is allowed in any form (videos or tapes) in the classroom.

While I agree that the word is inappropriate to throw around, I feel strongly that decisions like these will allow the N word to remain powerful.

For the students it is almost impossible to read Huck Finn unless they read it aloud because it is mostly written in dialect. It is better for them to hear the words which is why the tapes are helpful when the teacher or the students need a break. But if they do read aloud, they now have to substitute the N word with another word. Suggestions are "slave" or "black man." How is that less controversial? (especially the latter?) And what happens if someone slips? Is there a consequence?

Also, the teachers cannot show Gregory Peck's brilliant performance in the classic To Kill a Mockingbird, nor can they watch Gary Sinise in Of Mice and Men. The visuals make the texts real, and the visual element is part of the literature course.

What are we doing in the name of political correctness? What are we doing as a result of one student's unfounded accusation? Winston's sole job in 1984 was to "delete" words, and his and his society's outcomes were ones of sheepish obedience. This is how society declines, and no amount of discussion over peppermint lattes (which is what I had with my boss, pre-decision) will fix it!

Thanksgiving Snow Down

Here are some pics from our Thanksgiving excursion. My favorites among them are the ones of Rich playing football because... um.. what? Rich playing football? Let's just say that the sports gene didn't really make it into the Haag genetic code. The game ended well, though. The boys only knocked out the cable once with a misguided toss and fortunately this happened during Kelly Clarkson's half time extravaganza in the Cowboy game. Otherwise there would've been an ass-whuppin'. Also, it snowed! (after being 80 two days before. Isn't that cliche of Texas weather?!)

I've Got the Road Trip KOD*

I'm weird about road trips. I like them sometimes. When it's a trip to visit family, whether in Flatland, TX or in Droughtland, GA, I tend to be cranky. This has nothing to do with what will happen when I get to either place because I certainly enjoy my time while I'm there. It's more about the lack of adventure on the road trip - it seems redundant and repetitive and redundant and repetitive. Same DQ. Same Truck Stop. Same disgusting bathroom that makes you wish you had peed on the side of the road.

But I CRAVE new road trip adventures - a spontaneous excursion to the Hill Country for example. I used to be better at the spontaneous road trip - like the time we went to the 50th anniversary of the alien landing at Roswell, or those times we went to Luchenbach for some much needed beer and boot scootin'. And those were times when money was really tight, and it was silly to consider even going on those trips.

Now I'm all boring and responsible. And old - as in "my back hurts from being in the car that long.". And I only make road trips that have a specific purpose, because God forbid I a.) spend money on something that is frivolous and fun or b.) waste time that could otherwise be spent marking papers and lesson planning..

Ew. Have I really become "that" girl? The short answer is yes. Fortunately, I'm also the girl who is intolerant of herself upon that sort of realization. This circumstance will be rectified, immediately. So, who's up for a road trip to Anytown, USA? Seriously. Let's go.


* k.o.d. - kiss of death - what happens to a person when they can't stomach the circumstance they are in and react negatively to said circumstance. Not to be confused with "Line Disease" where you have a 'standing in line at Wal-Mart next to a screaming child' moment.

20 More Things According To My Mom

I decided to let my mom have a crack at sharing 20 things about me since I'm not even halfway done with my list of 100 things and I'm already bored with me. So this is an experiment that could be awesome, as in look at all the sweet things my mom wants to share about my life; or it could be a disaster, as in, "how embarrassing, MOM! How could you?". Either way, here goes -
20 Things about me in my mom's own words:
See #s 1-20 here and #'s 21-40 here

41. Ginger is the most polite vomiter.
42. She's a one condiment girl.
43. She is beautiful on the inside and out.
44. People used to stop me when Ginger was a baby and tell me she had the prettiest mouth and ears they'd ever seen.
45. She's a wordsmith and I love that.
46. Ginger is a tree hugger.
47. She does many things that make me happy and proud.
48. She tolerates my obsession with my dog.
49. She is open minded.
50. Ginger has been her brother's teacher since he was born.
51. She has been sleeping through the night since she was 9 years old... once.
52.Ginger survived her freshman year at Tech in spite of the grown-ups in her life.
53. She brought softness, gladness, and happiness to her Mimi, more than anyone else ever did.
54. She was attentive to her Mimi her entire life.
55. She takes teasing well and has received a lot of it.
56. Ginger and her friends filled the house with music and laughter.
57. Ginger has the littlest fingers I've ever seen.
58. She makes perfect ribbon bows.
59. Ginger is tolerant of others.
60. She's a blessing.

(Aw, thanks Mom! I'm not too embarrassed.)

Thanksgiving

For each new morning with its light,

For rest and shelter of the night,

For health and food,

For love and friends,

For everything

Thy goodness sends.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

Scavenger Dinner

We arrived in Lubbock safe and sound, a cold front at our heels and snow in the forecast. Mom had already made a pot of her famous pinto beans in case it got cold and we were looking forward to that for the base of our dinner. As it turns out, here in Texas at holiday time, instead of folks having "traditional meals" like Martha Stewart dreams up for the Yankees, we stick to a more Southern cuisine. That is, we enjoy all the Mexican food we can eat.

This year Mom, Rich, Sugar and I loaded up in the car to "scavenge" for our dinner. It was more of a hunt, really. The Pedro's Tamales was the first stop where we ordered 4 dozen tamales. And these are INCREDIBLY good. So good, in fact, that Mom often brings them to us when she drives from Lubbock to visit us in the Metroplex. The next stop was for 3 dozen tortillas at Rosa's, and the final stop was Sheridan's for some dessert custard. When we got home, mom even made cornbread! Lucky us!

The meal was awesome and perfect for the cold weather. Even Sugar was happy with her complimentary dog treat from Rosa's and her puppy cone from Sheridan's. :)

Winner Winner Winner

I turned on the TV last night to settle in to another magical hour of House because, let's face it, I have a MAJOR crush on Hugh Laurie. The first thing I heard as the TV was 'warming up' was this:

"For now, Sebastian Bach is the strongest link and Coolio is the weakest with the lowest score. Stay tuned to see who will survive on (...dramatic pause...) THE WEAKEST LINK!"

First reaction: Wha? Isn't The Weakest Link a quiz show?

Second reaction: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

Third reaction: Duh, like Sebastian Bach will totally beat Coolio, at least in the hair department. And I'm a little biased because Sebastian Bach had a permanent role on two seasons of The Gilmore Girls. He RULES!

Hmm.

On second thought, I think Ann Robbins can kick both their asses (and mine if I don't vote for her... Mam.)

Monkey Monkey Hockey Puck

My mind is reeling today - which would happen all at once after a week or two of forced blogging. This morning I woke up and thought, "I have something to say!" Really I didn't, but I was determined to find something by blog time. And I did. I found twenty million things to say.. Then I panicked and thought, "Which one of the twenty-two million things (because two million more things popped into my brain) should I write about? Can I save any for later? Is it cheating to start posts and use them later? Do I really have that kind of time?"

So here's the conclusion: I am going to briefly list a few things in order of occurrence, to show you that I really do have ideas occasionally. And lucky for you, I don't have time for twenty-three million things, so I'll narrow it to, let's say 5.

1. I woke up this morning to my favorite (smart ass) news caster trying to seriously report the story that today the president officially pardoned the Thanksgiving turkey, as in "President George W. Bush offers an official pardon to May, the 2007 Thanksgiving Turkey, during festivities Tuesday, Nov. 20, 2007, in the Rose Garden of the White House. In pardoning May, and the alternate, Flower, the President said, "May they live the rest of their lives in blissful gobbling. And may all Americans enjoy a holiday full of love and peace. God bless you all." (Story from Thanksgiving at the White House; White House photo by Chris Greenberg) I know that this is a silly tradition that dates all the way back to when God was a boy/girl. And I'm really glad that May was pardoned, but then again so was Scooter Libby.(!) Plus, I found a website that actually sells presidential pardons. So guess what, turkey! You're not so special. Get in my belly!

2. I went to the Stars v. LA Kings last night (which sort of sounds like I attended a gang fight. I'm talking about the NHL). And though we did win 3 to 0, that's not the blog entry I wanted to post. A soon as we entered the arena, Rich saw a line and decided to stand in it. We had no idea why were standing in line except that people were leaving the line with "Thank you! Come Again!" sacks. Rich thought the line might end at free stuff, and if getting free stuff is an option, then one should always stand in the free stuff line.. because it's free! We felt glad when the folks behind us whispered, "What are we in line for?" but did not turn around to acknowledge that we were just as clueless. In fact, we stood taller as if to say, "We know what we're in line for. How silly that you don't." When we got to the front of the line, we realized that no, there was no free stuff. And we were too worried about saving face to step out of the line. So we spent a whole $4 on this:

Yes. It is a bobble head Modano and a bobble head Morrow on a collectible bobble holding ice rink. Because what we need is more shit to stack around the house..

3. Sesame Street apparently traumatized me as a kid, and I didn't even know it. Thank God I found out about it today! Geez! I mean I could have eaten a pipe, wandered off with strange men, and hallucinated about big scary harry sort-of-elephants. How did I survive 32 years after having watched such smut?!! If you want to know what the heck I'm talking about, read this. I know! It WAS a close call!

4. I had coffee with The Fougs's folks today! It was so GREAT to see them, and we discussed everything from oil spritzers (for cooking - I've heard of that) to de-feathering doves (that was my contribution) to what happens to piers when the water surrounding them freezes. Needless to say, I learned a lot today, and I can't wait to go and visit them at The Cape!!

5. Tomorrow I get to go see my Mom!! (and Sugar) I am so looking forward to that! Plus, it's Thanksgiving holiday!! We'll also get to see Rich's family in Amarillo. The weather is actually supposed to dip below 80 (freezing for us) which makes it feel more like turkey time. Bring on the food, the football, and the frivolity!

So there's tons more floating around in me noggin, but I guess I'll save my detailed world peace plan complete with schematic diagrams and flow charts for another blog. :)

Religious Intolerance IS Racism

After reading a few web pages and blogs (that I will not mention here because I don't want to promote them) my dear English friend, Mark, sent this question to a group list:

"I guess anti-Muslim sentiment is pretty big in the US now? Would be interested to know what my American friends think about this dangerous mix of racism, dressed up as sound intellectual attack on backward practices having nothing to do with the heart of the Islamic religion (as with witch hunts/anti-feminism and the soul of Christianity, kids throwing bricks through windows and anarchism, etc etc) and instead everything to do with flawed power structures, bad consciousness, human beings controlling one another using false religion as an excuse etc etc.

We do have something of the same problem over here in the EU, in terms of racist attitudes, although I suspect it's not quite so prevalent..?"

I was wondering if any of you had any opinion about this or if you could shed some light on any of Mark's points. I'll post my (poorly composed) response in the comment section here just to get the ball rolling. I only posted the thoughts that have been voiced to me on the many occasions that I have tried to defuse this sort of racism. But please understand I work really hard against reactionary feelings for and against both sides. I am, after all, human.

Up-Sellers or Sell Outs?

Have you noticed that in the last few years or so music has become extremely commercialized? I'm not sure how I feel about that. I mean, isn't rock and roll supposed to be at least a little bit anti-establishment? Isn't it supposed to be music for the people, not music for the consumer? OR is the new marketing idea a brilliant ploy on behalf of the music industry just in time -when music is rampantly being pirated and as the CD becomes marginalized? Do the ads promote the musicians, especially the up-and-comers? Do they hurt the musicians - as in "If I hear that damned I-Pod song one more time.."? I can't decide. I do imagine that all of the marketers for these products are twenty somethings, have spiky, blond tipped hair and are constantly updating their Facebooks at work. "Music is my boyfriend.." But then again, not all of the "commercialized" musicians are new ones.

A part of me knows that I'm just jaded because I'm not twenty-something anymore (she said as she updated her oh-so-grown-up blog) and therefore may not be open to the idea that the future of music will forever be tied to the newest product. I'm a thirty something who is fighting against the notion that I can't be a kid forever. My music is no longer the "it" music. Just yesterday, the Fougses asked, "I wonder what it will look like when Snoop Dogg becomes elevator music." For shizzle, yo! But then Snoop is what the thirty somethings listen to these days which makes it old. And thank God we haven't crossed that bridge..yet. It's hard enough listening to the orchestral version of "With Or Without You" or "White Riot" at the grocery store.

I do know that Michael Jackson- who bought the rights to the Beatles songs and then sold them to Sony music - is a bastard for allowing "All You Need Is Love" to be the jingle for some sort of baby wash or wipes or whatever the hell product is being pimped at the moment. (Shaking fist in air - "Damn you Michael Jackson!")

(sigh.) Here are some more examples of the sell outs.. (ahem), I mean up-sellers. I'll let you decided what's what:

Reece's Candy

New Order - Bizarre Love Triangle

Sony
Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out


Verizon
Fall Out Boy - This Ain't A Scene It's an Arms Race


Imogen Heap - Headlock


Cingular
Peter Gabriel - Solsbury Hill


Apple
The Gorillaz - Feel Good Inc.


Cadillac?
The Dandy Warhols - Bohemian Like You

Turbulence

(When it’s time to change your seat.)
by David Sedaris June 13, 2005

On the flight to Raleigh, I sneezed, and the cough drop I’d been sucking on shot from my mouth, ricocheted off my folded tray table, and landed, as I remember it, in the lap of the woman beside me, who was asleep and had her arms folded across her chest. I’m surprised that the force didn’t wake her—that’s how hard it hit—but all she did was flutter her eyelids and let out a tiny sigh, the kind you might hear from a baby.


Under normal circumstances, I’d have had three choices, the first being to do nothing. The woman would wake up in her own time, and notice what looked like a shiny new button sewn to the crotch of her jeans. This was a small plane, with one seat per row on Aisle A, and two seats per row on Aisle B. We were on B, so should she go searching for answers I would be the first person on her list. “Is this yours?” she’d ask, and I’d look dumbly into her lap.
“Is what mine?”


Option No. 2 was to reach over and pluck it from her pants, and No. 3 was to wake her up and turn the tables, saying, “I’m sorry, but I think you have something that belongs to me.” Then she’d hand the lozenge back and maybe even apologize, confused into thinking that she’d somehow stolen it.

Read the full, hilarious story here.

P.S. David Sedaris is one of my all time favorite writers! That's why using one of his stories for a post is NOT cheating. (grin)

Story borrowed from The New Yorker - Reflections Section

Lucky Girl

This is going to be a short post since I've got things to do and people to see. (Finally) And in short I'd like to say that this is a great week-end for friends and fellowship! P-ta arrived on Thurday and Lisa arrived last night! I get to hang with the Fougses tonight at the opera (sounds hoity-toity, right? I mean.. Sounds Hegelian, right?) And it's Friday!! I'm a lucky girl!!!

And Lisa: No, all your buns belong to OX!

20 MORE things

So This is harder than it looks. First of all, I can't imagine that anyone (except for you , Mom) is interested in learning 20 more things about me, much less 100(!),which makes me feel a little sheepish in the undertaking. But also, as I sift through my memories - the things that make me me - I am realizing that I'm not so sure I want folks to know a 100 things about me. This could be dangerous - in a Wile E. Coyote falls of a cliff, poofing in the dust, as the Roadrunner taps the precariously perched ACME anvil that follows the poor coyote's fall and lands on top of him, making him an accordion - way. It's silly is all. What insecurities should I avoid and which should I own up to? What would be generic and what would show my personality? See? This is hard.
But I'll stop whining.
Here are #'s 21-40 to follow the first entry. Enjoy:

21. My first boyfriend was amazing! He brought me flowers on Valentine's Day and gave me lots of gifts. He came to my house nearly everyday and my parents approved of our relationship.

22. This boy gave me my first kiss (which was planned - as in "Let's kiss twice and hug twice") behind the bushes in front of his house. It was all romantic until a.) he started taking off his clothes and b.) some neighborhood hooligans caught us and mercilessly made fun of us.

23. This happened when I was 6 years old and we were in kindergarten. I guess my boyfriend thought that that's what you do when you love someone: hug, kiss, and take off your clothes. I wonder where he got that idea.. (CAUTION PARENTS.) I wonder what happened to good ole Chuck Chesky.

24. When I was a little older, our neighbor, Dustin, used to run away from me because I had cooties. My dad made me chase him down the street to try and kiss him. How did I end up normal?

25. To further embarrass me, when I was 12, my dad used to follow my friends and me to the mall, magically appear in the crowded food court, and yell "Step right up boys! We have some lovely girls here who are single! One at a time! Step right up!" I thought I was going to die on several occasions as in, "Like OH MY GOD, like my dad is like SO LAME. I'm like so gonna DIE. Seriously, like, I'm SO sorry. This is like so NOT rad."

26. Around this time, a kid named Cory moved in next door to me. That might have been my first real - what do I do now - crush. I remember that he was from Iowa (my El Pasoan classmates called him 'white bread') and that we spent a lot of time hanging out on long summer nights. He was probably the first boy that I actually really talked to, as opposed to the boys whom I "loved" and rambled on about at school and then avoided at all costs. He took me to my first REAL school dance with a corsage and everything.

27. In 4th grade I won the school's 'Just Say No to Drugs' essay writing contest (remember Nancy Reagan?) and realized for the first time that I could write well.

28. I realized I was pretty good because I made up a bogus story about one of my cousins using drugs and how he overcame that addiction and went on to love Jesus - or something like that. It was total bunk (except for the Jesus part), and they bought it. (I'm sorry, Cousin.)

29. This is also how I learned that I have a HUGE imagination. I remember as I was writing that particular essay that I needed to NOT go off the deep end with the sentimentality. Keep it real, Ginger. Keep it real.

30. My imagination often got me in trouble. For example, for a while I was convinced that my parents were robots - like the one in Superman III with Richard Pryor. I was more afraid that I would have to deal with their malfunctions than I was of the idea that they were robots. I mean, what if one of their eyes fell out or something? Gross.

31. My mother cultured me throughout my childhood. She took me to the ballet, even when I was itty-bitty. She took me to art museums and plays, folklorico extravaganzas and creative problem solving competitions. That is why I think I have a deep LOVE for all things artsy. I love color! Thanks for that Mom! (and for not being a robot)

32. My Dad fed me science - I was a member of the Ranger Rick Nature Club, I had a microscope and a telescope in my room, he took me to the space observatory and to White Sands Missile Range in Alamogordo, and basically instilled in me a curiosity for the universe. We used to sit outside and count the stars on warm summer nights.

33. I love to swim, a popular pastime in El Paso since it's freaking HOT there. We had a neighborhood swimming pool at which Lisa, Jen and I spent lots of our time. When we bought our house, a neighborhood swimming pool was a must have.

34. I've never been very girlie. I'm more of a tree climber. I never have had fake nails, I've never really "styled my hair," and I didn't wear make-up until my first year of teaching when it was part of the dress code for female teachers (only). But then, so is wearing a bra - which I didn't need until 4 years ago.

35. Because of this, I was always considered "one of the guys" which meant that I got to hang out with the boys at their secret clubhouses (the fire), but it also meant that not many boys wanted to kiss me. Or really, not many of the boys I wanted to have kiss me wanted to kiss me.

36. I had to go away to summer camp to have my first "romance." And summer camps are the best places for those sorts of things. I wonder what happened to good ole Mike..

37. My first real job, other than working at my dad's office, was as a gift wrapper. I wrapped presents with Lisa, Jen, and Amy at Anthony's department store during Christmas time. I got the job because Jen and Amy's Mawmaw worked there which meant instant connection!

38. I also worked at the mall at a "Healthy Food Store" complete with fruit smoothies and sprouts. This store later turned into a barbecue stand. I guess the world wasn't ready to be healthy yet.

39. I was horrified at the thought of graduating from high school and REALLY wanted to live with my punk friends in a trailer instead of going to college.

40. My mom dragged my happy butt to Texas Tech and told me I would go to school. Tech was the only school I applied to, and after I got over the initial shock of being taken out of my comfort zone, I was so appreciative of the move. It turns out that sometimes our parents know what's good for us. Thanks also for that, Mom.

Hegelian... Your Mom's Hegelian.

My smarty pants British friend, P-ta, is here visiting from Houston. Somehow, in the midst of our conversation which was about movies, P-ta throws out the words "Hegelian Dialectic." Of course I reacted by laughing like I am sophisticated and well educated enough to know exactly what Hegelian means and that while on my yacht last summer, vacationing at Martha's Vineyard, I actually had Hegelian Dialectic with my Swedish masseuse, Sven, before my husband, Reginald, arrived with the pâté. Tut tut and Pish posh.

Then I scrunched up my face and said, "Wait. Wha..?" And P-ta said, "I don't know."

So we looked it up.

And we still don't get it. Nor do we want to.

I guess we'll have to go back to making fart noises with our armpits and singing the theme to The Dukes of Hazard. "Just two good ole boys, Never meanin' no harm.."

Oh well.

Across The Universe

Rich and I saw this movie last week end. I really enjoyed it because: a.) It's music from The Beatles (duh), and b.) It was creative and artsy and thought provoking.

Or as the guy sitting behind me more eloquently put it, "I fuckin' loved that fuckin' movie. Was that Bono? Awesome. I fuckin' knew it. This is like my new favorite fuckin' movie of all time! Fuck yeah."

I would not say this movie is my FAVORITE, but I would like to see it again.

Also, it is very politically biased, but if you lean more toward the "Get us the hell out of Vietnam" side of things, then you'll probably enjoy it more.

Feeling Exposed on DLAID

Why is it that when construction is involved in any facet of our lives, it always feels like it takes FOR. EVER. and that the construction workers are intentionally making YOUR SPECIFIC life harder? I imagine the workers, bespeckled in plaster (even if they aren't working with plaster), at the local bar, toasting the fact that one more day has come and gone, and the job is not done -which to them means mission accomplished! "(lifting pint) Here's to making Ginger's life miserable!" "I'll drink to that!" (laughing maniacally)

I'm not talking about the ridiculous type of construction (like what I wrote about in the second to last paragraph of this post). I'm talking about the necessary construction that should be beneficial to my life... when complete.

The road to get to my school is under construction. Actually until recently, three routes to my school were under construction which made it very frustrating to get to work and then home again. What compounds the matter is that people here always believe that today, whatever day it might be, is Drive Like An Idiot Day. And folks love to celebrate DLAID (often), especially in and around construction. Accidents are inevitable when, say, the right turning lane no longer exists which means (clearly) that you should speed up and turn right out of the far left lane, in front of other lanes of traffic - because that is the rule on DLAID, right? (sigh)

But fine. Whatever. Roads need construction.

But also, the fence behind my house has been under construction for two weeks. This wouldn't be a big deal except that behind my house is a major highway. I can't stop to think about how easy it would be to slow down, make a quick smash and grab, and be on your way. So I don't think about it. But I do think about how exposed I am. We have rather large windows on the back of our house. I love light and glass which means that some of the windows are not covered... which means that I have to remember at night that everyone on the highway can see what I'm doing at all times. That isn't so bad - I mean I'm not doing anything illegal or too scandalous, usually, but it does make me self conscious. For example, I ask myself, "Do I live like everyone else on the planet? As the zoo animal, are my habits congruent with my species? Do all families pretend to make dinner while secretly ordering in every night? Do people talk to their pets and constantly hug them as much as I do my cat?"

I also have to think twice about things such as wedgie picking, bra wearing (or really, bra not wearing), and, most importantly, putting on clothes between the shower and the laundry room since the path between the two rooms parades me by all of the exposed windows. I mean, I would never (again) want to be the butt of some one's joke. "Hey, guess what I saw on my way home last night! There was this girl who was... Yeah! I know!

Right there in her kitchen!" (sigh again)

I had hoped the fence would be done today, but I forgot that it is Veterans' Day* which means that most people have the day off. (not me) I am hoping for the construction to be done tomorrow. Unless, of course, the workers are hungover from being at the bar, making toasts to inconvenience. ;)

* Wow! What a coincidence! Two holidays in one day! Happy Veterans' Day, everyone! And also Happy DLAID!

100 things - 20 at a time

Here are some things about me that will have you perched on the edge of your seat, wanting to know more. Perhaps it's just that this meme is a good way to fill the daily NaBloPoMo quota, though there is validity in an occasional stroll down memory lane - this being my stroll, down my lane, if you are interested. (I like my strolls to be slow-paced with lots of rose smelling and if I'm lucky, umbrellas.) Or you've already clicked away. Whatevs. Here we go:

1-20
1. I grew up in colorful El Paso and was pretty much the minority in my town.
2. Being the minority changes one's life perspective a little. (for me in a wonderful way!)
3. I understand Spanish a lot more than I'm able to speak it,
4. Or really, I understand TexMex.
5. I met my best friend, Jennifer when I was four and she was three. She was my back-fence-neighbor for 18 years.
6. In 3rd grade I had my first religious epiphany after talking with Bethany Ferguson. She was a Mormon. I was a Baptist. We disagreed on who God is but we still liked each other anyway.
7. This changed my life at a time when I still thought babies were made by kissing.
8. I was a ballet dancer for most of my childhood and was pretty good at it.
10. I danced en pointe during some of my teenage years, but quit when I discovered the mall.
11. I tried out for the basketball team in 7th grade, but again, the damn mall won out over responsibility. Instead of practicing my layups with Coach Rood, I went to hang out with my friends. I was cut from the team.
12. I have a little brother. I call him Putz. He is 4 years younger than me. When we brought him home (he and I are both adopted), I thought he was mine. Like any close siblings, we fought a lot. But when it counted, he was my biggest ally and I his.
13. When our parents told us they were divorcing, he and I went for a walk, during which he said, "Well, I guess my grades will drop."
14. I laughed at the time but then was horrified to fail my first class (ever and since) with a 68 that six weeks.
15. It was math. I hate math.
16. I love literature.
17. I have been an avid reader my entire life, beginning when I could recite the entire Little Golden Book version of Lady and the Tramp while strapped in my car seat.
18. I tried to read Hemingway and Faulkner when I was 12. ('tried' being the operative word - and these two authors can be most trying!)
19. The first poet who ever moved me was E.E. Cummings.
20. I was a musician throughout my childhood. I played piano and flute at home, clarinet in marching band, bass clarinet in full orchestra and in concert band, alto sax and tenor sax in jazz band, and I sang in the choir (alto) in both church and school choirs. In short, I've got the music in me... or something like that.

(I know! You're dying to know more! But you'll have to wait for the next 20.)

How Fortunate am I?

which is why some big changes are coming..

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday, WRATCH!

Thank you for daily choosing me to be your partner.

I love you, Baby!

(p.s. Casey loves you too. He is currently purring against the keyboard, making it difficult to type. I'll take that as affection for you on your birthday. Down cat!)

Cupcakes!

I can't blog right now. I'm making cupcakes. Why? Because Rich's birthday is tomorrow!!! I do have a HUGE decision to make, though. I have two cake mixes: white and chocolate. And I have two icings: chocolate and butter cream. (Gotta love a sale on cake mixes!)Which combo do I choose?!! And duh. Of course there are sprinkles involved!

Thinking of You

I got two 'thinking of you' messages today for no other reason than it is today and I was on two someones' minds. 'Thinking of yous' can be sort of generic in a Hallmark-y way sometimes, and they are usually given in response to sad news. BUT receiving a genuine, personal 'thinking of you' like the ones I received today is AMAZING and is of great value and significance. Allow me to explain:

It is important to validate each other, to acknowledge that friendships are extremely essential and wonderful. Odds are we are who we are because of each other, and our personalities may very well be comprised of, not only genetics and chromosomes, but also of a little part of each of our friends. I mean, that's why we're friends - because I admire and love many qualities in you and I hope that some of you rubs off on me, in a non-dirty, non-stalker-y way. And of course there are other reasons as well, but perhaps they are less important. (?) Does that make sense?

That being said, I don't give as many 'thinking of yous' as I ought to. If I actually did send 'thinking of yous' to all of the people I think about on a daily basis, my full time job would be sending 'thinking of yous'. If I could live on 'thinking of yous' then, I would certainly consider a career change.

I'm thankful for today's 'thinking of yous'. And seriously, I AM thinking of you, too.

The Controversial N Word

Last Friday the head of the English department at my school handed out a controversial article that was published in our local newspaper. The article is called 'Huckleberry Finn lesson plan prompts an uproar' and can be read here. The gist of it is that in an English class, as an introduction to Huckleberry Finn (a novel that already stirs the hornet's nest because of the n-word), the teacher, who was following a prescribed lesson plan that was put together by a district committee and 'consultant', wrote the n word on the board among other words in an effort to discuss the changing connotations of words. I will assume that good intentions were at play here, though I do not know the teacher personally. A student took offense to the n word (on the board) and though he asked the teacher to remove the word, she refused. The outcome is that the teacher is now in the midst of a storm of controversy. Though she has apologized to the boy and his family (as has the school district) the offended and his family have asked that she submit a written apology letter, do community service in an African American/Muslim neighborhood, and that the district ban the book from its curriculum.

OK. First of all, I taught Huck Finn when I taught junior literature because it is part of the required curriculum in our district so I know what it's like to feel completely torn about how to address the sensitive subject that is the n-word. I remember really fretting about it because I have also been the accused teacher (for a different and bogus reason) and I understand the power that one student who hates you can wield over your career. I chose to say the word while reading the book. I spoke with my students beforehand and told them that if they were uncomfortable saying it out loud that they didn't have to. I wanted to say it because: #1 I think censorship in literature is bullshit and #2 I knew that after the initial shock of hearing the word, it would eventually loose its power which is a really good thing. I made it though two years of teaching Huck Finn without any complication.

Secondly, if the district is going to put a teacher in a situation where they HAVE to teach something controversial, then they need to back that teacher 100%, no questions asked. We deserve this as professionals and as human beings. Because districts continue to hang us out to dry in an effort to appease parents, we have NO respect and NO authority in our classrooms or in our communities. If you don't think we have kids' best interests at heart, then either fire us and hire someone you do trust, or don't hire us in the first place. I'm sick of the equivocating.

Lastly, Huck Finn, though sensitive in print, is a classic, wonderful novel. It is a glimpse into history and yes, it contains racism, as did our society at that time. Just because it doesn't sit well with folks, doesn't mean it should be banned. In fact it is an uncomfortable read which, in my opinion, means that we ought to read it. It gives clarity to our own personal distaste of racism, and for some may hold up a huge mirror to their souls, perhaps allowing them to see an ugly blemish that needs to be addressed. Literature often holds up this sort of mirror - on purpose- and we are asked to experience a world that is challenging to our comfort zones.

Maybe Huck Finn is not a good match for reactionary high school students. And if this is true, then what can they read? Not Shakespeare - he's far too bawdy. Not Chaucer for the same reason. Not Orwell - he goes against the government and sometimes talks about sex. Not Milton or Dante - they actually address heaven, hell, and (gasp) God! In Steinbeck you might have to talk about a mentally challenged person who gets shot in the head, and in Dickens, the supernatural. Where do we draw the line?

If the student had actually read the book, he would know that in the end there is redemption for the slave, Jim, in that he is freed. In fact there are lots of instances in the book where Jim is more cunning than Huck and acts as the voice of reason. This is only one of the MANY aspects of the novel that should be addressed in the classroom.

Was the teacher wrong for introducing the lesson in this way? I don't know. I wasn't there, but I do know she was doing what the district wanted her to do. Is the community wrong for asking for the book to be banned? YES. Absolutely! In fact, I challenge that community to go and do something that is productive, not destructive. Maybe they should go read a book.

I'm bad at lunch

I am. Really. I mean I'm not so great at eating in general. I'm not talking about making healthy choices because I actually like healthy food; I'm talking about the fact that lunch is difficult. For example, today as I was running out of the house, late (as usual), I thought "Oh shit. What am I going to eat today?!" I ran to the pantry, found an old package of Cheez-its, some jello with peaches in it, and an apple. Bonus! Sometimes I only find saltines. Every day it's this sort of scavenging.

In my head, I hear my mom saying, "Ginger, if you would just pack a lunch the night before, right after you lay out your clothes for the next day, you wouldn't run late AND you'd have a lunch prepared!" OR "Ginger, if you plan better before you go to the grocery store, you might have some snacky type things to throw in your lunch sack." And I get it. I do. But here's the thing - I know all of this and have known for quite a while, yet my living habits have not changed. There is always something more important to do. Um. Like grade or study... or blog. I can't seem to make her advice a habit. I might, on occasion, remember her words and actually follow them for a week or two, but the habit doesn't stick no matter how good my intentions are.

Add the bad habits to the fact that I hate almost all leftovers, save pizza and spaghetti, and I HATE lunch meat which means that most sandwiches are out. I don't have a way to keep food cold at work and heating something is difficult since the microwave is down the hall and its cleanly-condition is usually pretty sketchy at best. I forget to bring dishes home. I'll let you imagine what that means. The school cafeteria is a mile away, and the lines are long and are filled with loud students during the only time I have my classroom to myself.

If I even allow myself the time to eat, the situation is sort of hopeless. Sometimes I'll walk over to the farmer's market across the street and grab an apple and some pretzels. If I'm extra lucky, I'll find trail mix!

But mostly, I dread lunch since I know I need to eat and I'm lucky that I get to.

Any suggestions?

Feist - 1 2 3 4

This video makes me smile. I want my world to be as simple and colorful as this one is. Plus, I'm better at this dance than at the Solja Boy one. :)

How to tell that God is a wild and crazy guy

I lifted this from P-ta's blog because I was laughing so hard I was crying. It's not ok, but enjoy anyway.

A Paradox

While studying Hemingway short stories, one of my brilliant International Baccalaureate students said this:

" War. Is it worth it? Can we ever say that it it necessary?
To some, the greater good is enough reason for sacrifice. But to others, the loss of even one human life makes [war] worthless. To be believers in the greater good, you must dehumanize the victims. To be the humanist, you must forget that any good could ever come out of war."

I thought this very interesting, and to an extent I think she is absolutely right. But I also think that, as usual, the gray areas of the adult world completely blur the black and white of the adolescent one - and the adolescent world tends to be very black and white (remember?). That being said, I think that I lean more toward the humanist side of things, especially when we are involved in an illegal, pointless war like the one we're stuck in now..

Creative Carving

My family enthusiastically celebrates holidays. We always have. Growing up I remember how fun holidays were, whether it be Christmas morning or the 4th of July, a family birthday or Columbus day. Mostly holidays involved some sort of holiday treat, streamers, some marching and twirling, and OF COURSE sparklers. When I grew up (growing up being a relative idea), I realized how hard my family worked at making the holidays special - as in all the magic was Mom-made. As soon as I figured that out, I decided that I wanted to continue making a big deal of these sorts of celebrations since these are what add color to the world and create that wonder that makes people smile and want to be together.

Halloween is no exception. Usually we go all out. I decorate the house, we costume shop, I make greeting cards, and buy candy corn. We go to pick our pumpkins at pumpkin patches and loose ourselves in corn mazes, caramel apples in hand. But this year my being sick really put a damper on the festivities. I did buy pumpkins for carving at our local farmer's market(because that is a must) and some funny carving patterns, so I tried my best to at least keep some of the tradition alive. I stayed on the couch for most of Halloween evening, watching all of the Halloween specials I could find on the tele while Rich answered the doorbell for trick-or-treat-ers, but we did manage to carve our pumpkins and set them out before it got dark. Here are the results of our endeavor:

Make your own slide shows and scrapbooks

And it begins..

Today is the first day of NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), which means that I've challenged myself to write a blog entry every day this month. I feel sort of cheap by making my first entry about the challenge, but I think it's all I can do today with all the stuff going on.

I can give you some updates, though:
1. My sinus infection is not gone. Antibiotics have helped a little bit and last night I actually slept through the night in my own bed for the first time in 5 days. I had been spending the nights either propped up on the couch or walking in endless circles in tears, frustrated and hurting. (Ask Rich - we've both felt sort of helpless lately.) I tried a saline rinse today thanks to Chelle's excellent advice, and I'm hoping that that will ease some of the pain too. In the mean time, it's Tylenol for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Let's hope my liver can stand it.

2. I'm getting some excellent responses to this month's salon topics. Please continue to send them. Every idea is helpful and thought provoking. I so appreciate your contributions!

3. Since this is NaBloPoMo, maybe, if you're not a part of the contest.. or even if you are, you would consider participating in NaCoPoMo (National Comment Posting Month) so as to keep us motivated to keep writing. I know that Jen, Lisa, and Chelle are all with me on this and we need all the encouragement we can get!!

So, that's it for now. Research papers and Macbeth are calling me out.. Assholes.
j/k. I love you Macbeth!