2009 was a zinger of a year! Perhaps some day I will blog about it (though more likely, I will write about it in a memoir and that will have to do).
But I am happy that the real development of the year kicked in in late June...during a heat wave...with my honey: I'm having a baby! And MAN! It's hard work.
So aside from occasionally wasting time on Facebook (because Wordscraper is addictive and poring over status updates helps me feel more social than I have the time or energy to actually be), I have been spending very little extra curricular time on the computer. I'm still dissertating and at work I feel like I am an appendage to my computer more than the other way around, so when I have precious moments for down time, I generally sleep. Or crochet (I finally finished the baby blanket I began for my godson when he was born. Sadly, he is now nearly eleven years old and has little use for it, so I'm passing it on to my Little Bunny Girl). Or eat.
At any rate, I have started a blog to chronicle the pre-baby experience. It's nice in theory, since in reality, I rarely post (last post was in November...though if I can convince Little Bunny to kick me some place less painful than my lower intestine, I might post something this morning). But it is THE place, aside from my Facebook updates, to find out how the whole growing-a-person and preparing to change my life completely experience is going for me. The site:
Friday, January 8, 2010
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Happy Inauguration Day!
I have been awake since 1:30am ET, so I will not attempt to be lucid. Rather, here's a link to some of the photos I've taken over the weekend: http://www.flickr.com/photos/7680874@N04/
I will provide a narrative and more pics after I get back to Ellensburg and take some cold medicine and get some sleep.
Oh, and for those who are wondering...no, I did not Boo #43. I simply chose to do nothing: no applause and no pronounced contempt (though I did hum along to the second round of Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye).
Anyway, I'm tired, sore and sick. But energized, spry and healthy in spirit!
President Obama! YAY! And yes, I'm ready to do more than just cheer (or, at least I will be once I recover).
I will provide a narrative and more pics after I get back to Ellensburg and take some cold medicine and get some sleep.
Oh, and for those who are wondering...no, I did not Boo #43. I simply chose to do nothing: no applause and no pronounced contempt (though I did hum along to the second round of Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye).
Anyway, I'm tired, sore and sick. But energized, spry and healthy in spirit!
President Obama! YAY! And yes, I'm ready to do more than just cheer (or, at least I will be once I recover).
Sunday, January 18, 2009
DC Concert Mayhem-Free Fun
Today was a good day. An exhausting day. But a good day.
I slept in, which was sorely needed. Though it did mean we didn’t leave the house until 1pm, and didn’t get to downtown DC until close to 2:30. But the ride was pleasant; everyone was happy and almost festive; and Ona and I chatted up a saxophone-playing, jazz-marketing cutie from Atlanta.
The metro became backed by the time we reached Arlington, but still, people were warm, generous and just in one heck of a good mood!
Out in the street, it was like a giant street fair, with vendors hawking everything from Obama chocolates to $1 bookmarks to hand-warmers.
On The Mall, it was a whole other thing altogether. Apparently, access to the inner sanctum of the concert was closed, but that didn’t stop thousands of people from filling up the space between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument. Many more milled around as far back as the Smithsonian Castle, in spite of the 36 degree temperature!
Ona and I hung out at the concert for a bit, jockeying for position near one of the jumbotrons. We only heard Mary J Blige, James Taylor and Josh Groban. We caught a glimpse of Stevie Wonder on stage with Usher and Shakira and I shamelessly shook my tail-feather to Garth Brook’s rendition of “Shout.”
Then, as we started to head back to the Metro, we saw U2!! They had the longest set of anyone we saw or heard, and then were followed by a weird and vaguely disturbing parade of two bald eagles who, let’s just say, didn’t like the crowds. But after the eagles, Barack Obama took the stage! Optimism, met pragmatism, met realism and I was simply riveted.
We also felt fatigue creeping in, so Ona and I hoofed it up to the Metro as soon as President Elect Obama finished speaking, and in doing so, we TOTALLY missed the crowds: we caught the first train, had seats and chatted up a few folks who had also been to the concert and bailed while the getting was good.
Anyway, I’m pooped and shall let the photos do the rest of the talking (http://www.flickr.com/photos/7680874@N04/). Tomorrow, there will be no sleeping in, as I have to go to Senator Murray’s office to pick up the Inauguration tickets. That will also be the one day that we actually spend in town. Should be interesting.
I slept in, which was sorely needed. Though it did mean we didn’t leave the house until 1pm, and didn’t get to downtown DC until close to 2:30. But the ride was pleasant; everyone was happy and almost festive; and Ona and I chatted up a saxophone-playing, jazz-marketing cutie from Atlanta.
The metro became backed by the time we reached Arlington, but still, people were warm, generous and just in one heck of a good mood!
Out in the street, it was like a giant street fair, with vendors hawking everything from Obama chocolates to $1 bookmarks to hand-warmers.
On The Mall, it was a whole other thing altogether. Apparently, access to the inner sanctum of the concert was closed, but that didn’t stop thousands of people from filling up the space between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument. Many more milled around as far back as the Smithsonian Castle, in spite of the 36 degree temperature!
Ona and I hung out at the concert for a bit, jockeying for position near one of the jumbotrons. We only heard Mary J Blige, James Taylor and Josh Groban. We caught a glimpse of Stevie Wonder on stage with Usher and Shakira and I shamelessly shook my tail-feather to Garth Brook’s rendition of “Shout.”
Then, as we started to head back to the Metro, we saw U2!! They had the longest set of anyone we saw or heard, and then were followed by a weird and vaguely disturbing parade of two bald eagles who, let’s just say, didn’t like the crowds. But after the eagles, Barack Obama took the stage! Optimism, met pragmatism, met realism and I was simply riveted.
We also felt fatigue creeping in, so Ona and I hoofed it up to the Metro as soon as President Elect Obama finished speaking, and in doing so, we TOTALLY missed the crowds: we caught the first train, had seats and chatted up a few folks who had also been to the concert and bailed while the getting was good.
Anyway, I’m pooped and shall let the photos do the rest of the talking (http://www.flickr.com/photos/7680874@N04/). Tomorrow, there will be no sleeping in, as I have to go to Senator Murray’s office to pick up the Inauguration tickets. That will also be the one day that we actually spend in town. Should be interesting.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
A New American Family
My Inauguration Journey began simply and beautifully enough on Thursday, with a gorgeous drive through Central Washington to Seattle, where I spent a night at the Seatac Hilton (thanks Priceline!).
It was such a beautiful sight and it reminded me of that moment on Election Night when the Obamas and their extended family came onto the stage in Grant Park. They were…are…an all-American family, with its many hues and origins. They are, like that happy family I witnessed in Dulles, a beautiful testament to the power of love and yes, the audacity of hope!
(Scenes from I-90 en route to Seattle...gotta love the Cascades!)
Unfortunately, Friday began with the belated realization that in the two months since I ticketed my trip, United had bumped up the departure time by twenty minutes. Needless to say, I missed that flight and stood at the counter, utterly apoplectic and weepy. I was re-routed on another flight through San Francisco with a tight connection, for a non-stop flight to DC.
I was so relieved to be on the flight that it didn’t even phase me that we sat at the gate for quite awhile, since apparently (and ironically) the flight on which I was originally booked was belatedly cancelled due to some sort of mechanical problems, requiring the re-routing of everyone on that flight.
Finally, some 30 minutes after we were scheduled to depart, we finally left off, and I promptly dozed off. Anxiety about the prospect of missing the most awesome historical event in my life had REALLY worn me down.
Once we landed at SFO, we were then greeted by another dilemma: there was a plane at our gate, and due to the sudden departure of a sick passenger, it wasn’t going to leave until all of his/her stuff was off the plane…including the checked baggage.
Ten minutes later, a whopping five minutes before my connection, I sprinted down the jetway (Mary Jane Fleuvogs are VERY cute…but sneakers, they are not), down the terminal (okay, only like ten gates) and discovered that they had closed the door five minutes earlier. So, I was rescheduled again.
I was not happy.
But a little aromatherapy at the Body Shop and a bottle of Sam Adams restored my bliss. After all, I was on my way to D.C. to welcome the 44th President of the United States, and kick number forty-three to the curb!
My flight out was fine for the first couple of hours, then the guy in the seat next to me became very chatty, in that monologuing-allegedly-well-connected-name-dropping-know-it-all kind of way. Thanks to him, I learned that San Francisco’s mayor, Gavin Newsome, and his wife were sitting just four rows up from us, in coach, but in the exit row. I learned that Hillary’s fundraisers were initially not interested in accepting donations from long-time donors (like him, apparently) who were only willing to give her money, and not their votes. As he grated more, and more on my tired nerves, I learned that sharing the same politics with someone, does not mean one shares the same values. Finally, I cranked up my iPod, never more grateful for Toumani Diabate than I was then.
Anyway, once we were on the ground and I made my way towards baggage claim, it was interesting noting the number of people coyly (and not-so-coyly) trying to get Mayor Newsome’s picture.
As I entered the baggage claim, I saw a camera crew and thought they must be there for Mayor Newsome, or perhaps… someone bigger! Instead, they were there to capture the first moments in a new American family’s life: a baby Korean girl who had been on the flight, just across the aisle from me, was introduced to her adoptive American parents, her new grandparents and a little boy who I think is either her brother or cousin.
It was such a beautiful sight and it reminded me of that moment on Election Night when the Obamas and their extended family came onto the stage in Grant Park. They were…are…an all-American family, with its many hues and origins. They are, like that happy family I witnessed in Dulles, a beautiful testament to the power of love and yes, the audacity of hope!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
On Resolutions
Last New Year's Eve, my roommate and I went to Tacoma's First Night and then came home, lit some candles, poured some wine, fired up the woodstove and burned stuff as part of a Full Moon/New Year release. It was actually a beautiful experience and inspired me to prepare a manifestation collage during the New Moon on January 8th. And say what one will, but I think both experiences "worked."
In my purge, I wanted to do away with the health and financial dramas of 2007. I watched slips of paper scrawled with the names of different self-destructive tendencies writhe and wither in the flames. I felt a visceral need to be better than I had been, and a surge in confidence in my ability to do so. And it wasn't because of the wine.
In my collage, it was strangely prophetic (if one doesn't believe in manifestations), or refreshingly effective (if one does). The collage speaks of changes in scenery, learning new skills, pulling out of despair and awakening to new possibilities, discovering and rekindling love, showing gratitude, and seeing my godson. ALL of which became manifest within a few months. Granted, it also highlights finishing school, which I have yet to do. But, returning to the university context in February inspired me to make more progress on the dissertation in a matter of months than I had done in the span of the three previous years. So, that's a good thing.
This New Year's Eve was very different from last. For starters, there was no burning: I don't have a fireplace or woodstove and there is a burn ban in the valley (oh, and last night it was snowing with gusty winds). I didn't go out. I did, at least, bathe, and then promptly get back into my pj's. I curled up with The Intimate Critique: Autobiographical Literary Criticism
and allowed myself to be blockaded in bed by Scratch and Jude (Chester was hiding under the bed, as he really dislikes illegal fireworks). I was asleep by 11:30.
And I think that was a very appropriate way to spend that New Year's Eve after a long year of often breathless recovery. 2008 was the year I found my footing again. There were still some occasional missteps, but no major falls. What a blessed and satisfying improvement over 2007.
And so I look now at 2009, which I hope will be a year of resolution - breaking down some residual problems and challenges into smaller components, and solving them once and for all.
The three biggies for this year: my dissertation; the Tacoma House; and stabilizing my health and fitness.
The Dissertation. To finally resolve this "little" problem, I need to:
Health and Fitness. I am 35 years old, and my body aches. Since starting my new job, I've stopped going to the gym everyday and now have the back-flab and snarky observations of my 95-year old step-great-aunt to prove it.
Last month, I joined the gym at work and started going intermittently. But for the sake of my mental and physical health, I need to go at least 5 days/week. My goal isn't a dress from Bebe or a shopping spree at Victoria's Secret. Rather, on September 6th, I plan to arrive at the Longmire Camp in Mount Rainier National Park and begin a 10-14 day hike around the mountain along the Wonderland Trail (sample photo journals here and here). I haven't lined up hiking partners yet, but have faith that I will. A fundamental part to the life I aspire to live is activity: hiking around the world; scuba diving in a variety of waters; skiing down and around mountains; sailing; and building a natural, green home. And all of this requires that I have a body that doesn't balk at breaking a sweat or breaking down some good old fashioned lactic acid.
There are, of course, other goals I have for this year: move into the country (if I buy another car) or into the heart of town (if I don't); submit something for publication; actually do NANOWRIMO... but none of these are things that need to be resolved. And my focus for 2009 will be on resolution. Everything else, is gravy.
In my purge, I wanted to do away with the health and financial dramas of 2007. I watched slips of paper scrawled with the names of different self-destructive tendencies writhe and wither in the flames. I felt a visceral need to be better than I had been, and a surge in confidence in my ability to do so. And it wasn't because of the wine.
In my collage, it was strangely prophetic (if one doesn't believe in manifestations), or refreshingly effective (if one does). The collage speaks of changes in scenery, learning new skills, pulling out of despair and awakening to new possibilities, discovering and rekindling love, showing gratitude, and seeing my godson. ALL of which became manifest within a few months. Granted, it also highlights finishing school, which I have yet to do. But, returning to the university context in February inspired me to make more progress on the dissertation in a matter of months than I had done in the span of the three previous years. So, that's a good thing.
This New Year's Eve was very different from last. For starters, there was no burning: I don't have a fireplace or woodstove and there is a burn ban in the valley (oh, and last night it was snowing with gusty winds). I didn't go out. I did, at least, bathe, and then promptly get back into my pj's. I curled up with The Intimate Critique: Autobiographical Literary Criticism
and allowed myself to be blockaded in bed by Scratch and Jude (Chester was hiding under the bed, as he really dislikes illegal fireworks). I was asleep by 11:30.And I think that was a very appropriate way to spend that New Year's Eve after a long year of often breathless recovery. 2008 was the year I found my footing again. There were still some occasional missteps, but no major falls. What a blessed and satisfying improvement over 2007.
And so I look now at 2009, which I hope will be a year of resolution - breaking down some residual problems and challenges into smaller components, and solving them once and for all.
The three biggies for this year: my dissertation; the Tacoma House; and stabilizing my health and fitness.
The Dissertation. To finally resolve this "little" problem, I need to:
- consistently use my library carrel, because at home I have a chatty new roommate and sly cats who think nothing of smothering me and my keyboard;
- waste less time - I've deleted Klondike and Blackjack from my Blackberry and am committed to eating dinner at the dining room table, rather than in front of the TV. I also will ration my Facebook time to twice a day and will stop with the chronic status updates (no more than once per day) - if people want to know what I'm up to, they can call or email, or read my blogs when I bother to update them.
Health and Fitness. I am 35 years old, and my body aches. Since starting my new job, I've stopped going to the gym everyday and now have the back-flab and snarky observations of my 95-year old step-great-aunt to prove it.
Last month, I joined the gym at work and started going intermittently. But for the sake of my mental and physical health, I need to go at least 5 days/week. My goal isn't a dress from Bebe or a shopping spree at Victoria's Secret. Rather, on September 6th, I plan to arrive at the Longmire Camp in Mount Rainier National Park and begin a 10-14 day hike around the mountain along the Wonderland Trail (sample photo journals here and here). I haven't lined up hiking partners yet, but have faith that I will. A fundamental part to the life I aspire to live is activity: hiking around the world; scuba diving in a variety of waters; skiing down and around mountains; sailing; and building a natural, green home. And all of this requires that I have a body that doesn't balk at breaking a sweat or breaking down some good old fashioned lactic acid.
There are, of course, other goals I have for this year: move into the country (if I buy another car) or into the heart of town (if I don't); submit something for publication; actually do NANOWRIMO... but none of these are things that need to be resolved. And my focus for 2009 will be on resolution. Everything else, is gravy.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Walking My Talk
I love my job.
Even if there is a crazy learning curve.
Even if I rarely get to check off all items on my To-Do list due to interruptions.
I love it. I love my students and my team, with whom I run the program. And now that the school year is beginning, I'm looking forward to getting to know my other colleagues as well.
But, I admit, the job also shames me.
I am charged with encouraging students to pursue research doctorates once they graduate. And not just PURSUE them, but COMPLETE them. And yet, I persist as an A.B.D. A gainfully employed A.B.D., but an A.B.D. nonetheless.
Yes, I had the wind kicked out of me in the last two years. Yes, it's been a marathon getting the program at my work up and running. Yes, I've tasted the bitter irony of crazy housing situations, even as I work on a dissertation on "home." But really... so what? Life happens and will continue to happen when/if I am on the tenure-track and need a few more publications before my tenure review. So, I just have to get used to it.
And I am. Slowly. And I am writing. A little less slowly.
But the thing is, I had an epiphany today, thanks to an impromptu meeting with a frustrated student. Part of why I have been floundering, even as I have been inspired by the opportunities and support my new professional home has given me, has been my sense of shame, coupled with a hefty dose of native stubbornness.
I am ashamed to actually contact my committee with my work-in-progress, and let them be the advisers I really need them to be. I know I don't know all the answers. But, I guess I feel like I've been A.B.D. so long, that I'm ashamed at some of the very basic questions I still have (like, "When is enough, enough?").
My advisers are good people. But I have not been particularly advisable. I've spent the better part of the last few years convinced that I would actually be wasting their time, showing them anything other than a complete and coherent manuscript.
How very silly.
How very naive and maybe a bit arrogant. After all, who better than my committee to actually tell me what constitutes a complete and coherent manuscript? They've served on numerous committees and editorial boards. I've ... taught undergraduate writing.
So, this week, I am sending my committee what I have, instead of doing the compositional equivalent of running on the hamster wheel. And this month, I will finish the complete draft. It may not be pretty. It may still need a lot of work. It may be gold (or maybe bronze). But, that is for my advisers to advise.
Even if there is a crazy learning curve.
Even if I rarely get to check off all items on my To-Do list due to interruptions.
I love it. I love my students and my team, with whom I run the program. And now that the school year is beginning, I'm looking forward to getting to know my other colleagues as well.
But, I admit, the job also shames me.
I am charged with encouraging students to pursue research doctorates once they graduate. And not just PURSUE them, but COMPLETE them. And yet, I persist as an A.B.D. A gainfully employed A.B.D., but an A.B.D. nonetheless.
Yes, I had the wind kicked out of me in the last two years. Yes, it's been a marathon getting the program at my work up and running. Yes, I've tasted the bitter irony of crazy housing situations, even as I work on a dissertation on "home." But really... so what? Life happens and will continue to happen when/if I am on the tenure-track and need a few more publications before my tenure review. So, I just have to get used to it.
And I am. Slowly. And I am writing. A little less slowly.
But the thing is, I had an epiphany today, thanks to an impromptu meeting with a frustrated student. Part of why I have been floundering, even as I have been inspired by the opportunities and support my new professional home has given me, has been my sense of shame, coupled with a hefty dose of native stubbornness.
I am ashamed to actually contact my committee with my work-in-progress, and let them be the advisers I really need them to be. I know I don't know all the answers. But, I guess I feel like I've been A.B.D. so long, that I'm ashamed at some of the very basic questions I still have (like, "When is enough, enough?").
My advisers are good people. But I have not been particularly advisable. I've spent the better part of the last few years convinced that I would actually be wasting their time, showing them anything other than a complete and coherent manuscript.
How very silly.
How very naive and maybe a bit arrogant. After all, who better than my committee to actually tell me what constitutes a complete and coherent manuscript? They've served on numerous committees and editorial boards. I've ... taught undergraduate writing.
So, this week, I am sending my committee what I have, instead of doing the compositional equivalent of running on the hamster wheel. And this month, I will finish the complete draft. It may not be pretty. It may still need a lot of work. It may be gold (or maybe bronze). But, that is for my advisers to advise.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
All's well in the land of Denmark
So... it looks like HSBC has finally gotten its facts straight. This week, I received a letter confirming the Robert Osborne agreement. Which is a good thing, since I found some folks to rent the house to, who seem like the type to actually take care of it (unlike the last tenant disaster). Also a good thing.
I also finally finished building the main database for my work. FileMaker Pro is fairly user-friendly, if a bit tedious. I am, by no means, an expert; but I do feel like I'm becoming marginally competent. I tried reading the manual first, but talk about mind-numbing. Instead, I just dove in and used the manual as I hit road-blocks. Clearly, I'm a learn-by-doing kind of girl. I just hope that it turns out better than my first memory of learning-by-doing:
The dissertation is still a work in progress, but at least, this week, I felt like I was making some really good progress. I changed my sleep/work pattern, to relatively good success:
Well, gotta go: chapters to tweak, cold showers to take, and all that. But before I go, I must share the one thing that tore me up this week:
I also finally finished building the main database for my work. FileMaker Pro is fairly user-friendly, if a bit tedious. I am, by no means, an expert; but I do feel like I'm becoming marginally competent. I tried reading the manual first, but talk about mind-numbing. Instead, I just dove in and used the manual as I hit road-blocks. Clearly, I'm a learn-by-doing kind of girl. I just hope that it turns out better than my first memory of learning-by-doing:
When I was a little girl and it was just my mom and I living in a trailer in rural southeast Arizona, mom was doing some weeding and ended up disrupting a fire ant nest. She had to go inside rather quickly, but told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from the ants, or I'd get hurt.Hopefully my FileMaker Pro interlude will end on a better, less painful note.
I smiled. I nodded. And as soon as the door closed behind my mom, I squared my shoulders, hunkered down and pedaled my Big Wheel as hard as I could, determined to destroy the invaders.
Helas, I woefully underestimated the enemy and before long my mom had ran outside, swooped me up and all but hurled me into the tub, where she ran the shower on me - fully-clothed - until not a single ant remained.
The dissertation is still a work in progress, but at least, this week, I felt like I was making some really good progress. I changed my sleep/work pattern, to relatively good success:
- I go to work from 8:30-5:30/6;
- stop by the garden to harvest greens, cukes, eggplant and/or squash (and let me say, I don't know WHAT I was thinking when I planted two zucchini plants, spaghetti squash, butternut squash, acorn squash, summer squash and TWO pumpkin plants);
- go home for dinner and phone calls;
- then to bed by 7:30 or 8 for a two-hour nap;
- followed by two or three hours of late night dissertating, before heading to bed for 6 hours of sleep.
Well, gotta go: chapters to tweak, cold showers to take, and all that. But before I go, I must share the one thing that tore me up this week:
Hamlet on Facebook (courtesy of the folks at McSweeney's)
This is just...too...funny!! It is, IMHO, funnier than Long, Singer and Winfield's "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)" (1, 2, 3, 4)
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