Commonality

Many people from all walks of life, spanning all time periods, in every country have spent their lives looking for commonalities among all races, genders, and creeds. These people are peace-seekers, agents of change who want for a better here and now. And though I highly respect these people, I think they've been working way too hard. I discovered the answer to world unification thanks to my nosiness curiosity and a little bit of research.

The thing we all have in common in this modern age, despite any difference that one could possibly fling in this direction is not that we all have skin or hearts or spirits..I mean, we do.. BUT the thing we mostly have in common is a love of Don Henley! Seriously. It is. Don Henley brings us together. Let me explain:

Even though I understand that Big Brother is watching and I am probably on some watch list which really, really sucks, I am a nosey enough person to have a site meter on my blog. It's not really there as a result of any sort of stalker-y paranoia, though once I clicked to see an unknown site that had contacted me (you know, I wanted to extend a cyber hand in the spirit of friendship), and it ended up being one of the most disturbing porn sites I've ever seen - one that would traumatize the Heff, not to mention a semi-sweet and sheltered 30 something from Texas. Needles to say, my cyber hand was IMMEDIATELY retracted, and after a scalding hot shower, an extensive tongue shave, and lots and lots of meditation to put my spirit back together, I was brave enough to go back to the site meter where I can (now timidly) see how many hits I've had per day and from where. And that kind of rocks. I can see how many of you care to actually read Viaggio vs. those of you who type something into a google search bar, hastily click on the link to my blog, realize your mistake milliseconds later, and quickly (and sometimes audibly) click back to your search results as you curse your computer for doing something you didn't want it to do. (sigh) I've been there, man. But even with all of that, I have to admit that I get a flutter of excitement when I open my site meter and see little flags from places like China, Portugal, India, and Belgium.

I often wonder how you've wandered to my site, and what I see most often is that you are searching for Don Henley's "Boys of Summer". I posted the video last October. It's the most popular search on my blog, and people come from all over the globe to see this video, here, on this site! I like to believe that I have my own little version of the UN here, though no one can out-buy anyone else's moral view, and no one is really bullying policing anything. So really it isn't anything like the UN. But it's cool. And it makes me feel good to know that music does bring people together. Kudos to you, Don Henley!

Me and Don Henley- bringing the world together.

Thoughts of Bhutto

Yesterday when I sat down at the computer expecting to go about my normal business of glancing through the news headlines, checking email, and reading blog updates, I was crestfallen to see the news that Benazir Bhutto had been assassinated. I think crestfallen has to be the right word here because I wasn't just sad - for her family, for her supporters, and for the sate of of her country - I was heartbroken. I sighed out loud and felt a very large lump in my throat.

Honestly it bothered me that I had such a reaction to the news. I didn't know much about her except for what I had read in the news - that her father was executed for being a revolutionary, that she studied at Oxford, that she came back to Pakistan, the country that killed her father, to make a difference, that she succeeded in becoming the elected prime minister of Pakistan (the first in a Muslim state, a feat that our "progressive" country has yet to accomplish) twice, and that she was running against Musharraf for a third term. I know that she was working toward stabilizing the country and that she was fighting for that lucrative democracy - that which we think we know, but that we are all struggling to define. So, I know the book report version of her life, as opposed to her actual political voice. Why, then, was I so sad?

What unnerves me about this circumstance has relatively little to do with the government of Pakistan. I mean it does bother me in that I'm curious to see what will happen next, especially since the the ones who did the attacking got what they wanted - an unstable, chaotic, emotionally charged, (nuclear armed) state. But mostly I think what bothers me is that SHE - a woman - was assassinated.

Hemingway touched on the uncomfortable idea of a woman being unnaturally dead (killed in war) in "A Natural History of the Dead," a graphic satire told from the perspective of a naturalist who is observing the dead from an intellectual, scientific perspective. In it the narrator says, "Regarding the sex of the dead it is a fact that one becomes so accustomed to the sight of all the dead being men that the sight of a dead woman is quite shocking. I first saw the inversion of the usual sex of the dead after the explosion of a munitions factory...we were ordered to search the immediate vicinity and surrounding fields for bodies. We found and carried to an improvised mortuary a good number of these and, I must admit, frankly, the shock of it was to find that these dead were women rather than men. In those days women had not yet commenced to wear their hair cut short...and the most disturbing thing, perhaps because it was the most unaccustomed, was the presence and, even more disturbing, the occasional absence of this long hair."

Whether we like it or not, it is harder to see a dead woman. Somehow, either because women, in a patriarchy, are the "weaker, more vulnerable sex" who need "protecting", or because in a matriarchy they are the sacred,the wise, the life-worthy, it is more difficult to stomach the idea of an assassinated woman. I lean more toward the matriarchal way of thinking mixed with the primitive idea that women are extremely valuable when compared with the expendable man (the 'it only takes one or two men to populate an entire clan, but it takes several women to be the child bearers, the nurturers, the community creators' idea). Or maybe because we live in a patriarchal world where the men are the decision makers, the arguers, the creators of instability, etc. it doesn't seem too atrocious that men are also the ones who are assassinated. Assassinated women are simply out of place.

Let me be clear.

I'm not saying that I hate men and that it is acceptable for them to die or that women should not go to battle or serve and die for their countries.

All unnatural death is horrifying, regardless of sex.

But I would argue that it's right that women should lead because the feminine ideals - which include wisdom, fair judgement, and the inherent need for universal balance - are far superior to the masculine traits of war-mongering and dominance. We are all made up of varying degrees of both masculine and feminine qualities and it is possible for a man to tap in to his feminine qualities. It is also right for women to be leaders, though it seems most difficult for them in a patriarchal (and therefore lacking) society. Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth knows she has to relinquish her feminine qualities ("...unsex me here,/ and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full/ of direst cruelty...") in order to gain power by helping her husband murder the king. This is a perverse request. Grotesque. Unnatural. But it is what she has to do in order to rule in a patriarchy.

For whatever reason, we haven't figured out how to wholly manifest our feminine characteristics in the patriarchy. That in itself is very bothersome.

From what I understand of her, Benazir Bhutto did not relinquish her femininity to lead like some women (Hilary Clinton for example) most obviously do. Therefore it seems right for the people in Pakistan, a country very much rooted in patriarchy, to adore her and mourn her passing. And maybe that's why it is OK for me, a woman, to mourn too.

Her assassination is a sad atrocity. What a loss. What a loss.

Happy Holiday

We had a great Christmas this year filled with lots of family and fun! See for yourselves:

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

(Albanian) - Gezur Krislinjden
(Argentine) - Feliz Navidad Y Un Prospero Ano Nuevo
(Armenian) - Shenoraavor Nor Dari yev Pari Gaghand
(Bohemian) - Vesele Vanoce
(Brazilian) - Feliz Natal e Prospero Ano Novo
(China - Cantonese) - Gun Tso Sun Tan'Gung Haw SunSing Dan Fai Lok
(China - Mandarin) - Kung His Hsin Nien bing Chu Shen TanSheng Dan Kuai Le
(Croatian) - Sretan BozicÈestit Boiæ i sretna Nova godina
(Czech) - Prejeme Vam Vesele Vanoce a stastny Novy Rok
(Danish) - Gledlig jul og godt Nytt Aar
(Dutch) - Vrolijk Kerstfeest en een Gelukkig Nieuwjaar Dutch
(Netherlands) - Prettig Kerstfeest
(Filipinos) - Maligayang Pasko
(Finnish) - Hauskaa Joulua Hyvää joulua ja Onnellista uutta vuotta
(French) - Joyeux Noël et heureuse année
(Gaelic-Irish) - Nolag mhaith Dhuit Agus Bliain Nua Fe Mhaise
(Gaelic-Scot) - Nollaig Chridheil agus Bliadhna Mhath Ur
(German) - Frohe Weihnachten und ein glückliches neues Jahr
(Greek) - Kala Khristougena kai Eftikhes to Neon Ethos
(Hawaiian) - Mele Kalikimake me ka Hauloi Makahiki hou
(Hebrew) - Mo'adim Lesimkha
(Hindi) - Shubh Christmas
(Hungarian) - Kellemes Karacsonyi unnepeketBoldog Karacsonyl es Ujevl Unnepeket Kellemes Karacsonyt Es Boldog Uj Evet
(Icelandic) - Gledileg jol og farsaelt komandi arGledlig jol og Nyar
(Indonesia) - Selamat Hari NatalSelamah Tahun Baru
(Iraqi) - Idah Saidan Wa Sanah Jadidah
(Irish) - Nollaig Shona Duit
(Irish) - Nodlaig mhaith chugnat
(Italian) - Buon Natale e Felice Anno Nuovo Buone Feste NatalizieBuon Natale e felice Capodanno
(Japanese) - Shinnen omedeto. Kurisumasu Omedeto
(Korean) - Chuk Sung TanSung Tan Chuk Ha.
(Lithuanian) - Linksmu Kaledulinksmu sventu Kaledu ir Laimingu Nauju Metu
(Norwegian) - God Jul Og Godt Nytt Aar
(Peru) - Feliz Navidad y un Venturoso Año Nuevo
(Philippines) - Maligayang Pasko at Manigong Bagong Taon
(Polish) - Wesolych Swiat Bozego Narodzenia i szczesliwego Nowego Roku
(Portuguese) - Boas Festas e Feliz Ano NovoFeliz Natal e propero Ano Novo
(Romanian) - Sarbatori Fericite. La Multi Ani
(Russian) - S prazdnikom Rozdestva Hristova i s Novim Godom
(Serbian) - Hristos se rodi
(Serb-Croatian) - Sretam Bozic. Vesela Nova Godina
(Spanish) - Feliz Navidad y prospero Año Nuevo
(Swedish) - God Jul Och Gott Nytt År
(Turkish) - Noeliniz Ve Yeni Yiliniz Kutlu Olsun Yeni Yilnizi Kutar, saadetler dilerim
(Ukrainian) - Srozhdestvom Kristovym
(Vietnamese) - Mung Le Giang Sinh. Cung Chuc Tan Nien
(Welsh) - Nadolig Llawen a Blwyddyn Newydd Dda
(Yugoslavian) - Cestitamo Bozic

[Subtle] Husband Hints

This sticker:This t-shirt: And this:
See Righteous Babe Records

All I Want For Christmas..

..is my right back molar to be magically fixed without having to go to the dentist..



When I was a kid I had no enamel on my back molars which meant that my teeth crumbled in my mouth and, as a result, I was eating my own teeth. GROSS. I had oral surgery to extract what was left of the fragments and to fill the rest. I went home from the hospital on New Year's Eve, the proof being that I vaguely remember the midnight cheering, honking, and fireworks in my dream-like, morphine induced trance. I also remember something about Mom getting pulled over by a cop as she was speeding me home so that I wouldn't vomit blood all over her plush Cadillac seats, and Mom saying, "You don't believe me? Look at her! Show him Ginger." But that may have been some sort of mother/daughter telepathy moment while the cop was writing out the ticket - remember, I was stoned - or maybe she later said that that was what she was thinking. Either way, it was sort of a bonding moment in a disturbing yet tender way.

Yesterday when my filling fell out in the middle of C-hall as I was eating a candy cane, (filling in one hand, candy cane in the other), I realized that I would have to go to the dreaded dentist, and memories of that surgery came flooding back. I was so stunned by the occurrence and by the memories that I held up the filling like a kid showing his folks his newly lost tooth, only instead of parental pride beaming back at me, I was startled to recognize the confused (yet amused) gaze of the Fougs -who luckily thinks that sort of thing is cool and not disgusting- and another colleague who was, justifiably, horrified. (Such. A. Spaz.)

The good news is I am not in any pain, other than I am (or rather my tongue is) constantly being reminded that jagged teeth are sharp. The less than good news is that I have to find a dentist, endure whatever "procedure" he recommends, and then hope that I can take some sort of pain medication that is Poyo* safe. Plus, our fabulous HMO insurance provider makes us pay extra for dental coverage which means that we, who were rightly more concerned with using the money for life insurance when we signed the policy form, will have to pay the full price for the extra pain. Yay. Screwed by The Man again! You'd think I'd like it by now or at least be used to it.

Fortunately for me, I wont have time to deal with any of this until after the Christmas break. So as with all things that are inconvenient, I'll ignore the problem until I am forced to deal with it. :) But I'll think about that later..

* Poyo is what we call our unborn child which may or may not be better than what Pa-Paw (his grandmother) calls him- Cooter Jack. Poor kid. Then again, it could be fodder for the tell all that will make him a billionaire..

A Break? (therapy smile)

School's out for the..winter? So it's only out for two weeks, and winter doesn't really hit until January here. But still - the point is that SCHOOL IS OUT for a little while and I seriously need the break. I'm sitting between piles of laundry - that which needs to be folded and that which needs to be washed. Rich is tutoring tonight so that leaves me solo. I made dinner (for once) and am finishing wrapping the gifts since we're gonna "go home with the armadillo" tomorrow to see Rich's family. I always forget how hard it is to get ready for the road trip, and I feel completely exhausted from last week's assessments, mag release, and Medieval projects (for the seniors). I've spread myself pretty thin - not to mention the pregnancy and the fact that one of my tooth fillings fell out today. Ha. Like I have time for the dentist!

OK, so I sound extremely gripey. I am, other than being completely stoked about taking a break. Therefore, I've decided to take nothing but fun reading material to my in-laws' house (i.e. no papers to mark, even though I'll have a stack waiting for me when I get back!) and am really looking forward to snuggling in with David Sedaris's sarcastically hilarious Holidays on Ice and Mark Haddon's neurotic episode, A Spot of Bother. (Haddon is the same guy who wrote The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.) Plus I have three The New Yorkers to peruse. (And all the geeky girls go "Do. do do. do do..")

I think the kids will appreciate a refreshed teacher. I think Rich will appreciate a less gripey wife. And I thank my lucky stars that I have a chance to sit and be still.

But damn, I miss wine.

Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch!

Dorothy's candy-ass whirlwind had nothing on the vertiginous tornado that whipped my life last week. And yes. I DID say vertiginous. What of it? I'm still weak-kneed from all of the whirling. Plus vertiginous is a fun word to say AND it makes me sound smarter than I am. Say it with me now: "ver-tig-i-nous." See? Fun!

Lately, as you can see, my brain would fit right in with those who search for a holy grail but get side-tracked by shrubberies and herrings and whatnots. If you'll stay with me, I'll explain (briefly - or as briefly as I can - which means this may be very lengthy).

Monday - I was stupid brave enough to invite 21 IB students to my house for a review session. 16 of them, plus my partner in crime, the Fougs, showed up. If you've never been in my living room, you should know that having that many folks in my house - who are not mingling, playing poker, and/or drinking too many He is Risen Margaritas before they realize that maybe they only should've had one - is sort of stifling. And for the record, there was some mingling, but there was NO poker and NO margarita drinking at this event. It turned out to be a nice evening. The kids were ultra kind and thanked me profusely for allowing them to study here. We covered a lot of material, had lots of hot tea (which several of them picked over the soda and kool-aid (which is what I was having) I think because tea makes you feel smarter (and allows you to speak in an English accent if you want - which also makes you feel smarter), and had some giggle sessions to boot. In short, it was a pleasant evening.

Tuesday - I was late to school (stress! - 30 kids standing outside of your locked classroom, making you very aware of your tardiness), and had a baby doctor appointment on my conference period. Those always terrify me, especially since I am afraid to get my hopes up. I have to steel myself for whatever news the doctor will give me, and have to quiet my enthusiasm at the thought of hearing a little heartbeat. I try to keep my emotions in check, but also, I have to face the fact that there might not be a heartbeat. I have to brace myself for that circumstance and have to think about how to best handle it: How will I drive back to school? How will I teach the rest of the day? How will I tell Rich? I can't handle another disappointment like that without being prepared mentally. So, though I try to be optimistic, I generally have tears of relief after doctor visits and not tears of joy. Luckily, there was a strong heartbeat this time, and the news was all positive.

Wednesday - It was a fairly normal day, except that Rich and I went Christmas shopping in the freezing rain.. because we're stupid. But the options were: shop in the freezing rain OR shop on (gasp) the week-end. Shopping on the week-end during the Christmas holiday HAS to have made one of the Dante's circles in The Inferno. Seriously. It's hell. And since it's December, it's frozen hell just like Dante imagined, only instead of Satan's three mouths chewing on Judas, Brutus, and Cassius, they are chewing on those folks who want to "clean your ring" for 15 thousand dollars and the cost of your life span, cranky mall elves, and that guy who cut me off to get the parking space I was signaling for. (sigh)

Thursday - Saturday - The Fougs and I gave IB IOC's. The IOC (Individual Oral Commentary) is an assessment that the uber-smart kids have to take. The kids randomly pick an envelope from a stack. In it there is a 40 line extract from one of the 4 literary pieces we have studied this semester (for us, it could be one of 40 poems from Mary Oliver's collection of poems in American Primitive, 40 lines from one of 8 short stories by Ernest Hemingway, 40 lines from one of 8 speeches by Martin Luther King Jr., or one of 40 lines from Macbeth). The kids had 20 minutes to analyze their extracts - put it in context of the whole, explain the significance, identify the figurative language and style of the author, determine the author's intent, etc. - and then they had to give a 15 minute oral commentary over their extract. In other words, they had to give an organized, cohesive, eloquent oral essay. Other than organizing the IOCs (which was painstakingly difficult - Thanks Fougs!), our job was to listen to the commentaries one on one, to identify as the student was speaking, any gaps or holes in the commentary, and then to pose questions to the student at the end of the 15 minutes to make sure that he/she gets the highest score possible - all while taking notes, recording the commentary, and timing it. Then we score each one, only to have our scores moderated by the IB gods who can "adjust" our scores however they see fit. (BIG SIGH) It was a tough three days, and my brain is TIRED. Did I mention that my other classes had to have a substitute for two days so that I could do these assessments? Those of you who are teachers understand what that means..

OH! And Friday was the release party (Temporary Utopia) for the fall edition of our literary magazine - which ROCKS!!! Temp U was fun, except for that whole sewage line break, move of location, and lost litmags.. More on this later.

Sunday - So now it's today - the day of rest. And I'm reeling. And I'm exhausted. And I have tons to do today.
But I think the storm clouds are clearing, and I remain unscathed for the most part. Honestly, I probably operate better under this type of stress. It just sucks because the aftermath leaves me so incapacitated that I can't even remember how to count to three.

"One... two... five!"
"No! Three, sir!"
"Three!"
(throws grenade)

What you don't know..

..is that he was caught making out with Santa.

The "interruption" explains the annoyed expression. (Notice the tousled beard?)

He also eats the Christmas tree.

It's a fake.

We're so proud..

Christmas and Clydesdales (Or Field Mice?)

Hallmark makes it seem perfectly easy. All you have to do is throw on your flannel pj's and snuggle into the cozy scene - snow falls gently outside; inside, the house glitters with glowing tree and garland wrapped banister, matching Christmas dishes and accessories adorn the table; all gifts are hand-made and are lovingly wrapped and personalized; the kids are smiling, hot cocoa in hands, while Grand-pa reads the Christmas story, as is tradition; a prodigal brother comes home from fighting the good cause, a bag of presents in his ruck sack; and if you listen closely, you might hear the jingle of sleigh bells or see a parade of Clydesdales leaving fresh footprints in the newly fallen snow..

You get the idea.

And even though I KNOW the truth - that I live in Metroplex, Texas which means no snow EVER, and flannel pj's, therefore, are right out because it's still 80 degrees outside; the tree may be glowing, but only after three strands of mostly working lights and a short power outage (oops); the Christmas dishes are still packed away in the top of some cabinet somewhere and washing them is too much of a chore, anyway; the gifts are still..uh.. at the store and the wrapping paper is a product of the high school band fundraiser and is still sitting in the high school band hall because the seller doesn't remember that he is in band and the paper hasn't been delivered; the kids cat has brought in a field mouse and let it loose under the Christmas tree; the brother may come home from fighting holiday traffic, but he works for UPS and they may need him to work up until Christmas day; and if you listen closely, you can hear the traffic on I20, especially those punk teenagers who like to race down the frontage road. - Even though I know this is the reality, I still somehow cling to the Hallmark version, like I need to believe that the fantasy really does exist somewhere and that someday I may be able to aspire to that level of picturesque bliss.

As I've gotten older, my role in the imaginary scene has changed - I'm no longer the kid with the cocoa. I am the mom who effortlessly put together the moment and am in the kitchen sipping wassail while checking completed tasks off the 'to-do' list. Silly, right?! (sigh)

Please don't misunderstand. I've had plenty of Hallmark moments in my life, filled with lots of instances that seem to fit into that greeting card envelope - my mom worked tirelessly to make it so. But the hard part is understanding that when the planets actually do align perfectly and the fairy Godmother waves her magic wand in this direction, creating something that feels similar to the imagined bliss, that those moments rare - lovely, but rare.

So we should make the most of them for when reality sneaks its Grinchy truth back into our lives. We should participate in the fantasy in as much as it makes us hopeful for something, that it motivates us to work a little harder for something. We should be careful to imagine it in a way that doesn't leave us disappointed by the truly lovely things - like when your brother, even though he works for UPS and can only stay for a little while, gets to come and visit for a few days. And maybe there will even be wassail!

You Should Know

I've spent a lot of time wondering how I should go about doing this. Seeing as it is all I think about, it is hard to avoid writing about something that is so much a part of my life. But I'm afraid. I know that most of you love me and will be supportive no matter what happens which is what gives me the confidence to go ahead and tell you that I am expecting again.

I am almost 14 weeks along, due in early June. So far everything looks good for this little one. It's me who's having the trouble with not wanting to feel too excited and with not telling too many people just in case.. I can't plan or think about what I need because I'm worried. And how stupid of me to feel so cautious that I won't allow for very much joy surrounding this good news. According to the doctor and every web site I have read the risk for miscarriage is now very low, yet I'm still cautious.

And now you know. And I needed to tell you because, at the very least, it's the healthy thing to do. But I'm in tears.

Last Salon of the Year

Discussion topics for December 7, 2007:

1. To cause or increase suffering is always unethical.

2. To what extent should history influence the present?

3. Holidays in a secular society: is commercialization inevitable?

Thoughts?

Giving is Good

'Tis the season and such for gift giving, a tradition that proves our country's capitalistic obsession and that devours some of the season's sense of spirituality and gentle peacefulness (for example, long lines at the mega-store, screaming children, and the "I saw it first" mentality). The holiday can easily become something ugly. But what folks, especially the antagonists to the "biggest shopping time of the year," don't realize is that there is some sort of redemption in all of the hullabaloo.

I have to admit that I like it.

Of course I'm not talking about the ugliness that can be the product of our evolutionary (and Westernized) instinct - survival of the fattest. I am talking about the fact that there are many more of us who say, "Please go ahead of me. You were first," or who shop the sales because they actually WANT to give the people they love the BEST presents they can afford. For most people, going to the mall is an outing that they get to enjoy with their families, and not a cranky burden. It is a chance to actually have human contact with people in the outside world -communitas (the spirit of community)- something that our society is getting really bad at due to our lack of practice. I guess I might even say that we NEED this time to remind us that it is OK to NEED each other.

Have you ever sent someone a present just because, given him a card for no reason other than you were thinking about him, or told him that you love him, sincerely and truly because you appreciate who he is? This type of communication has become awkward in our society and even inappropriate since we are conditioned to not need anyone. I even fight the urge to react ungracefully when someone new tells me that they like who I am or even if they hug me because they are glad to see me. Christmas gives us an excuse for these types of behaviors to be acceptable.

And yes, some people are shitty. Some people are in it for the receiving instead of for the giving. And maybe the rest of us are over compensating for something that we should be doing year round, but at least we have this right now, and thank God for it.

When one says that we are losing focus of "the reason for the season," I think it's fair to remind them that goodwill toward men and glad tidings are of paramount significance to the rest of the story, even if the only way we know how to show it is through shopping.