gd it, my studs are all freakin' the hell out today! and i've had about sixty million phone calls, e-mails, drop-ins, i've spent the last hour in the computer lab helping them.
man alive, i'm on the verge of a heart attack. we have one real class period left. why the flip-out now? i just want to hide out, or drink obscene amounts, or smoke whatever i can get my hands on. ay yi yi. they are just research papers! write the damn thing!
i need to find my center.
i'll see you folks next week. i'm headed to nodak tomorrow to meet someone special. we met over the internet. no, we didn't.
i'm going to meet my nephew. he should be here sometime on friday. we're gonna hang out, prolly. he'll prolly want me to hold him, and i'll prolly just want to stare at him. i think we'll like each other.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Jesus Loves Me
I came across this Donnie Davies video as I was doing some research about the new doc "For the Bible Tells Me So."
I don't know what to make of it? Is Davies for real? Is this satire? Regardless, I am fascinated.
I don't know what to make of it? Is Davies for real? Is this satire? Regardless, I am fascinated.
Monday, November 19, 2007
My Life Story as Hair
I gave my creative writing students a prompt today, and I wrote with them.
"Tell me your life story in incidents involving your hair."
I am eight. By some act of God, my mother lets me choose my hairstyle. Since I am more boy than most of the boys in my class, I opt for long in the back with a spike on top. My sides are shaped into soft points, the top of my head is thick, lush, brown spikes. A little on the longish side. The back is straight and hangs down past my shoulders. I can’t stop looking at myself in the mirror. After I get the haircut, we go to the mall and I am undoubtedly the coolest kid there. I go to the arcade with my brother, and he’s embarrassed by me, but likes when I watch him play Mortal Kombat and cheer him on. “Watch me rip this guy’s spine out, Lu.” I want to be just like him. I would do anything to have been born a boy.
**********
I am fifteen. My hair is often in a ponytail because I am one of the starting five on the JV basketball team and we do nothing but win all year. My hair is thick, darkly honeyed, and long, but I have these shaggy bangs that hang in my eyes. And I have no style. That year, I will finally give up and grow out my bangs. Instantly, I am better-looking and, for the first time, have hair my friends can’t stop touching. “Jennifer Aniston hair!’ they all squeal when I walk to my locker that morning at school. I spend the rest of the year in the back of the neighbor boy’s LTD, which is mostly fun. I look at some of my friends from other schools and think, if I were a boy, I’d totally date her.
**********
I am twenty-two. I’ve got mostly good hair now, but since I’ve always liked big, big hair, it just emphasizes my fat face. Looking back at pictures now confirms this. For years, I will carry around a driver’s license with a huge face and even bigger hair. Still, I spend a lot of time on my hair—I have my first girlfriend and want to look good for her. Things in my life are weird; I am constantly scared, uncomfortable, defensive, and insecure. And grad school is about to start.
**********
I am twenty-six. I am 73 pounds lighter than four years ago. I have another degree and I teach. I secretly hope that one of my students will comment on my evals, “she’s a good teacher, but her hair is awesome.” Lately, I’m into Aussie hair products, but that will change; I am ridiculously fickle. My life is no longer weird; it’s domestic and busy, and I am content to stay home next to this girl I love. Though I am still defensive, I no longer let insecurity overwhelm me. I don’t take credit for my hair anymore—it’s from my mom, I say. She’s got a mop of thick, stick-straight hair, and I am only lucky that I got it.
"Tell me your life story in incidents involving your hair."
I am eight. By some act of God, my mother lets me choose my hairstyle. Since I am more boy than most of the boys in my class, I opt for long in the back with a spike on top. My sides are shaped into soft points, the top of my head is thick, lush, brown spikes. A little on the longish side. The back is straight and hangs down past my shoulders. I can’t stop looking at myself in the mirror. After I get the haircut, we go to the mall and I am undoubtedly the coolest kid there. I go to the arcade with my brother, and he’s embarrassed by me, but likes when I watch him play Mortal Kombat and cheer him on. “Watch me rip this guy’s spine out, Lu.” I want to be just like him. I would do anything to have been born a boy.
I am fifteen. My hair is often in a ponytail because I am one of the starting five on the JV basketball team and we do nothing but win all year. My hair is thick, darkly honeyed, and long, but I have these shaggy bangs that hang in my eyes. And I have no style. That year, I will finally give up and grow out my bangs. Instantly, I am better-looking and, for the first time, have hair my friends can’t stop touching. “Jennifer Aniston hair!’ they all squeal when I walk to my locker that morning at school. I spend the rest of the year in the back of the neighbor boy’s LTD, which is mostly fun. I look at some of my friends from other schools and think, if I were a boy, I’d totally date her.
I am twenty-two. I’ve got mostly good hair now, but since I’ve always liked big, big hair, it just emphasizes my fat face. Looking back at pictures now confirms this. For years, I will carry around a driver’s license with a huge face and even bigger hair. Still, I spend a lot of time on my hair—I have my first girlfriend and want to look good for her. Things in my life are weird; I am constantly scared, uncomfortable, defensive, and insecure. And grad school is about to start.
I am twenty-six. I am 73 pounds lighter than four years ago. I have another degree and I teach. I secretly hope that one of my students will comment on my evals, “she’s a good teacher, but her hair is awesome.” Lately, I’m into Aussie hair products, but that will change; I am ridiculously fickle. My life is no longer weird; it’s domestic and busy, and I am content to stay home next to this girl I love. Though I am still defensive, I no longer let insecurity overwhelm me. I don’t take credit for my hair anymore—it’s from my mom, I say. She’s got a mop of thick, stick-straight hair, and I am only lucky that I got it.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Ah, the Salad Days
My sister calls me last night:
“I need three ideas for Christmas. Go.”
I tell her some stuff, and then I ask her what she would like.
“I need clothes—all I have are maternity pants, ugh. I like Old Navy, Herberger’s, Penny’s--”
“--Dress Barn.” I cut in.
“Shut up. No, what’s that store in the mall in Dickinson?”
“Oh, um, Christopher and Banks! I can get you a sweatshirt with a kitten and American flag embroidered on it. Maybe a blazer?”
Then she mentions she needs some new lotions and body sprays from Bath and Body. “None of that grass scent you like so much,” she tells me.
We are twins, but we are different. In just about every way two people can be different. Except that we both have that same (I want to say horse laugh, but I don’t think that’s quite it—maybe a laugh like a guineau hens sounds?) laugh.
“Randy,” I tell her, “I refuse to buy you some country apple lotion scent. Good Lord. You’ve really got to stop this.” “No,” she says, “I like Pearberry.” I stop her right there. “I may as well get you some Vanilla Fields,” I say.
“Then I’ll get you some Exclamation.” When we were kids, we would just douse ourselves in Malibu Musk, Jovan Musk, Tribe, and Exclamation. The cheapest, most obnoxious scents that 11 year olds couldn’t get enough of.
I imagine our mom, on a daily basis, thought, What in the hell is wrong with you two?
I told Randy, “I bet the trailer house smelled like frickin’ Jovan Musk for three years.”
“I need three ideas for Christmas. Go.”
I tell her some stuff, and then I ask her what she would like.
“I need clothes—all I have are maternity pants, ugh. I like Old Navy, Herberger’s, Penny’s--”
“--Dress Barn.” I cut in.
“Shut up. No, what’s that store in the mall in Dickinson?”
“Oh, um, Christopher and Banks! I can get you a sweatshirt with a kitten and American flag embroidered on it. Maybe a blazer?”
Then she mentions she needs some new lotions and body sprays from Bath and Body. “None of that grass scent you like so much,” she tells me.
We are twins, but we are different. In just about every way two people can be different. Except that we both have that same (I want to say horse laugh, but I don’t think that’s quite it—maybe a laugh like a guineau hens sounds?) laugh.
“Randy,” I tell her, “I refuse to buy you some country apple lotion scent. Good Lord. You’ve really got to stop this.” “No,” she says, “I like Pearberry.” I stop her right there. “I may as well get you some Vanilla Fields,” I say.
“Then I’ll get you some Exclamation.” When we were kids, we would just douse ourselves in Malibu Musk, Jovan Musk, Tribe, and Exclamation. The cheapest, most obnoxious scents that 11 year olds couldn’t get enough of.
I imagine our mom, on a daily basis, thought, What in the hell is wrong with you two?
I told Randy, “I bet the trailer house smelled like frickin’ Jovan Musk for three years.”
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
R-o-c-k-ing in the USA
The Trainables have gone from the basement to the web!
Check out this cute lil' band:
The Trainables
Bridge on mandolin
Mike on lead guitar
Rox on vocals and bass
Jefe on vocals and guitar
Katy on the tamb
Al on guitar
Me on drums (sometimes I get excited and lose my place!!)
Our original song, "Map of the World" pretty much rocks. Mike wrote the music, I wrote the lyrics, and Jefe put it together.
We do it every Sunday, folks!
Check out this cute lil' band:
The Trainables
Bridge on mandolin
Mike on lead guitar
Rox on vocals and bass
Jefe on vocals and guitar
Katy on the tamb
Al on guitar
Me on drums (sometimes I get excited and lose my place!!)
Our original song, "Map of the World" pretty much rocks. Mike wrote the music, I wrote the lyrics, and Jefe put it together.
We do it every Sunday, folks!
Monday, November 12, 2007
The Livin' is Easy
I've been very happy lately. (Wait, I tell my students to find better words than "very." Like, increasingly, exceedingly, remarkably.)
I've been ______ happy lately.
Things are good at home--better than good, really. Just really peaceful and warm and nice.
You know?
And, my fortune told me today that I "look pretty." Thank you, fortune cookie! Though I do think that the delicious dessert was making up for last time when it told me that I "constantly struggle for self-improvement." Truer fortunes have probably not been written, but still. Yee-ouch.
B's father is in the process of replicating a Rocky Mountain waterfall in their backyard, so we've been over digging and hauling dirt. Last week, we were invited to a swank Psychology department reception honoring him and another ultra-amazing person. I felt a bit out of place, and stuck close to the diet Coke/party meatball table, but I like meeting faculty in other fields.
I owe some Blockheads a leaf-free lawn. Since I already ate the peppered beef jerky, I better make good. Maybe we should forget the lawn and all have pizza together, yeah?
We had an awesome jam last night. Talk about the Trainables being on their game. Ya heard?
Things I Like:
To dance.
Walking down Willow Street.
Money in the bank.
When L. and L. come over for spring rolls.
When my fortune cookie tells me I am pretty.
I've been ______ happy lately.
Things are good at home--better than good, really. Just really peaceful and warm and nice.
You know?
And, my fortune told me today that I "look pretty." Thank you, fortune cookie! Though I do think that the delicious dessert was making up for last time when it told me that I "constantly struggle for self-improvement." Truer fortunes have probably not been written, but still. Yee-ouch.
B's father is in the process of replicating a Rocky Mountain waterfall in their backyard, so we've been over digging and hauling dirt. Last week, we were invited to a swank Psychology department reception honoring him and another ultra-amazing person. I felt a bit out of place, and stuck close to the diet Coke/party meatball table, but I like meeting faculty in other fields.
I owe some Blockheads a leaf-free lawn. Since I already ate the peppered beef jerky, I better make good. Maybe we should forget the lawn and all have pizza together, yeah?
We had an awesome jam last night. Talk about the Trainables being on their game. Ya heard?
Things I Like:
To dance.
Walking down Willow Street.
Money in the bank.
When L. and L. come over for spring rolls.
When my fortune cookie tells me I am pretty.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Because I am Bitter, and Because it is My Lawn
If the man next door would rake just once, I wouldn't get his leaves all over (my) creation.
There, I'm done.
*******************
My studs have been awesome these past few weeks. Talkative, smart, funny; they like long walks on the beach.
Guess what Rush Limbaugh is raving mad about now? Recycling.
I was going to have beef jerky for lunch today (if you can ignore all of the sodium, it's really the perfect food. Virtually no fat and tons of protein), but I forgot to eat lunch and now I am bummed. I think I've got a granola bar around here somewhere ...
I am boring.
There, I'm done.
*******************
My studs have been awesome these past few weeks. Talkative, smart, funny; they like long walks on the beach.
Guess what Rush Limbaugh is raving mad about now? Recycling.
I was going to have beef jerky for lunch today (if you can ignore all of the sodium, it's really the perfect food. Virtually no fat and tons of protein), but I forgot to eat lunch and now I am bummed. I think I've got a granola bar around here somewhere ...
I am boring.
Monday, November 05, 2007
An Open Latter to the Lady Star Wrangler Basketball Team
Put down those ciggies and shots of liquid cocaine, ladies! It's Game Time!
We are officially in our Lady Star Wrangler Training Season:
No boys
No booze
No bull
Curfew at 9 pm during the week and 11 pm on the weekends. And I WILL be checking in.
I am excited for our success this season. Last year, we had a fine showing at districts, but got beat in semi-finals by our rivals, the Lady Buccaneers. This year, our goal is for a spot at Regionals. It will be a rebuilding year, but with our tenacity and grit, we can do it!
This road to victory won't be easy, ladies. We're gonna sweat. We're gonna run. We're even gonna go skins if we have to.
For the first two weeks of practice, we'll do two-a-days: conditioning in the morning and scrimmaging in the evening. I've got a "can't lose" play up my sleeve, but I can't give it away. I'll just let you know I've named it "Fist." You're gonna love it!
We are gonna be close. We're gonna be sisters. We're gonna dig deep. We're gonna hit the showers.
I can't wait to see you girls all glistened up with the sweat of success!
Go Hard or Go Home!
So, huddle up for another great year! Show me that you are Lady Star Wranglers in every sense of the word!
-Coach O
We are officially in our Lady Star Wrangler Training Season:
No boys
No booze
No bull
Curfew at 9 pm during the week and 11 pm on the weekends. And I WILL be checking in.
I am excited for our success this season. Last year, we had a fine showing at districts, but got beat in semi-finals by our rivals, the Lady Buccaneers. This year, our goal is for a spot at Regionals. It will be a rebuilding year, but with our tenacity and grit, we can do it!
This road to victory won't be easy, ladies. We're gonna sweat. We're gonna run. We're even gonna go skins if we have to.
For the first two weeks of practice, we'll do two-a-days: conditioning in the morning and scrimmaging in the evening. I've got a "can't lose" play up my sleeve, but I can't give it away. I'll just let you know I've named it "Fist." You're gonna love it!
We are gonna be close. We're gonna be sisters. We're gonna dig deep. We're gonna hit the showers.
I can't wait to see you girls all glistened up with the sweat of success!
Go Hard or Go Home!
So, huddle up for another great year! Show me that you are Lady Star Wranglers in every sense of the word!
-Coach O
Sunday, November 04, 2007
The Life and Times
I was sitting at the Coffee Shop on Friday afternoon, just digging in to a batch of perhaps DEF portfolios, when jcf calls me:
"Dude, I'm off work. We're gonna need to have a beer."
It's 2:41 pm.
"See you at Carey's!"
And there we sat for about 3 and a half hours. God, I love it. Lots of U. and family gossip, all in the sacred pews of Carey's.
Then, Bridgie and I went to dins at Rox's for hearty stew and apple pie and silly British television. Love it. "I'm so tired..."
And then, I had to go to campus to finish entering in midterm grades. My bloody mary/miller lite headache was just kicking in.
Last night, I baked chicken and rented movies and we watched the one about Hellboy. We're really into superhero movies.
********************
And this morning?
How much do you love to fall back? Seriously!
"Dude, I'm off work. We're gonna need to have a beer."
It's 2:41 pm.
"See you at Carey's!"
And there we sat for about 3 and a half hours. God, I love it. Lots of U. and family gossip, all in the sacred pews of Carey's.
Then, Bridgie and I went to dins at Rox's for hearty stew and apple pie and silly British television. Love it. "I'm so tired..."
And then, I had to go to campus to finish entering in midterm grades. My bloody mary/miller lite headache was just kicking in.
Last night, I baked chicken and rented movies and we watched the one about Hellboy. We're really into superhero movies.
********************
And this morning?
How much do you love to fall back? Seriously!
Thursday, November 01, 2007
It's November, You Know What That Means? Time to Renew My Car Insurance.
Would you think less of me if I told you how much I have been enjoying "The John Tesh Radio Show"? Oh, sing it to me, Rod Stewart, baby!
Man, I wish I lived in an old people's home right now. Lunch at 10 am. Dinner at 4. Yessir! Bingo, idiot children coming in to sing or dance, handrails on everything.
Bridge has been doing lots of impressions of me lately, and the voice she uses for me is that of a dumb, idiot jock/country rube.
Maybe she isn't that far off:
"Poor me. My girlfriend wants to talk to me. Then she'll want to kiss me. I just want to make my lesson plan. I'm Lindy."
The other night, I was reading in bed and I heard her strumming the ol' guitar in the office:
"Hey, what's that? What are you playing?
"Nothing, it's something new."
"Come in here and play it for me."
"No."
"Yes!"
"It's not finished yet; I don't want you to hear it."
"Why? Is it a break-up song?"
"Exactly. It's called 'It's Been Great, But ...'"
"Hey!"
"Well, I want to make sure I have all the words completely right."
Man, I wish I lived in an old people's home right now. Lunch at 10 am. Dinner at 4. Yessir! Bingo, idiot children coming in to sing or dance, handrails on everything.
Bridge has been doing lots of impressions of me lately, and the voice she uses for me is that of a dumb, idiot jock/country rube.
Maybe she isn't that far off:
"Poor me. My girlfriend wants to talk to me. Then she'll want to kiss me. I just want to make my lesson plan. I'm Lindy."
The other night, I was reading in bed and I heard her strumming the ol' guitar in the office:
"Hey, what's that? What are you playing?
"Nothing, it's something new."
"Come in here and play it for me."
"No."
"Yes!"
"It's not finished yet; I don't want you to hear it."
"Why? Is it a break-up song?"
"Exactly. It's called 'It's Been Great, But ...'"
"Hey!"
"Well, I want to make sure I have all the words completely right."
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