You can't buy me, Love!

Once upon a time, a man named Jack decided to buy a new house.

Big isn't it?

Being the Co-president of a corporation, he was tired of living in an "established" neighborhood with big trees and plenty of shade.

 Poor guy.

Furthermore, he had obnoxious neighbors who were always showing off their gorgeous gardens, perfectly paved sidewalks and luxurious circle drive.

 How annoying!

But, believe it or not! Poor Jack, didn't even have it the toughest. (He was able to buy a brand new house, at least) His colleague, Elmer, the piddly, little vice-resident, had troubles of his own. He lived in a subdivision so far out that not even the Google Car will drive down his street.

 Look at all that land.

Elmer's poor little subdivision had tiny, little houses in it, that he had to drive by in order to get to his own house which was set way back, from the non-busy road. 

 What an eye sore!

 It's so bad for this poor guy that sometimes in the summer, just to escape the reality of his life, he sleeps on his boat and tries to forget about all those ugly houses where those people live who can only afford jet-skis.

So, when the pions that work for poor Jack and poor Elmer ask for raises so that they can afford a decent education for themselves and their children, Jack and Elmer have no choice but to turn them down. How could they be expected to make any kind of sacrifices. Imagine having to look at a nicer house than yours every time you leave your driveway or worse yet, not having a boat to escape to, six months out of the year.

Can you imagine?

I'm Tired!

So, I've been staying up way too late trying to finish the first season of Dexter. That show is a TRIP! And it kinda makes me nauseous. I even dream about it at night, trying to figure out little mysteries within the season, looking for patterns, trying to predict future conflicts. Some of the writing doesn't cut it for me, but the premise is fantastic. Gruesome, but almost gruesomely wholesome.

Anyway, the Solstice was fantastic! I'm still on bread and have started a Paint-by-Numbers. I am addicted to it! I thought it would drive me crazy until it was finished but I'm really enjoying the process. I'll load progress pictures whenever I can.

My kids are getting on my nerves. I'm ready for a little me time. So, I think tomorrow we'll go to the gym. It's not that they aren't well behaved. They just have a tendency to be right up my butt all the time. Every five minutes they need something from me... even when they need nothing from me, they come up with something they need. I know I will miss spending time with them when we all go back to school so I try to play some games with them or color or take an interest in what they are doing, but even that is starting to backfire. I give them an inch and they're begging for 5 more miles. The house is a disaster. That always adds to my bad moods. I think we need an overhaul... or a Uhaul.

In the meantime, enjoy a little home video. No! It's not dirty! My son is interested in stop-motion and we were explaining the concept. Finally we just decided to make a movie.

Here it is:

Merry Solstice!

I am having so much fun this holiday season. I've wrapped bunches of gifts and made so many loads of pumpkin bread and chocolate dipped goodies that my head spins when I walk into the kitchen. I was called by my Uncle last night. He is my god-father and is, in many ways, more of a father figure than my father is or ever was. We talked for a half an hour about his holiday baking. He makes a spread, every year, that puts mine to shame. He makes three different kind of spritz cookies in the shape of Christmas Trees(red, green and white ones), these little short bread balls covered in powdered sugar, chocolate truffles (that are to die for), at least two other kinds that he varies, and now he makes these cookies called Springerles. I call them our heirloom cookie because my grandfather used to make them every year, one of the ingredients is hard to find and you need a special press that is being passed down in the family. He promised to send me the recipe.


We almost had a Christmas "Awakening" of sorts last night when my son, who couldn't sleep, came to find me in my bedroom where I was sorting "Santa" gifts to wrap. Luckily, Hubby intercepted the little man before he saw anything that would make him ask questions... or so I hope. He didn't seem disturbed in his belief. It is becoming harder and harder to hide things from those knowing eyes and questioning minds. There is a reason that by 8 or 9, children get wise to our illusions. I am inclined to see it as a sort of rite of passage now that I have been through it and am watching my kids go through it. I mean, everyone remembers how they found out about Santa, don't they?


Interesting how non-religious traditions can be more like rites of passage than religious ones. I for one, can't remember what was so significant about first communion that it required the hoopla of such an extravagant ceremony. Seems to me they could have offered those little white wafers to the kids before we purchased a white dress and ruffles socks. But perhaps they were afraid that without the prohibition and ceremony, kids wouldn't have given two shits about those dry little wafers. Funny how we trick kids into caring about something by making it an elite rite and then wonder why 21 year olds drink themselves stupid. We are a messy people.

Merry Winter Solstice to my Sisters and Brothers of this Earth. May wisdom deliver our children, from Santa(and getting), to Generosity(and giving).

Journal: Week 10

Ah! This story is talking for me on so many levels! Woman on the Edge of Time starts out with Connie. She is so poor and of course I sympathize with her. Her story is so similar with so many others. I was recently investigating poverty. I limited our weekly spending (grocery, fuel, extras) to reflect an average impoverished family of four. I recorded my experiences on my blog but my experiment only lasted one week. The list of things I was forced to go without was becoming too long. I finally broke when my son's position on the chess team required $50.


I lived in poverty from 1999 to 2001. I had a memory to reference and yet the depression of trying it for 7 days was to much for me to bear. I announced on my blog that there was no longer a question in my mind that impoverished people can't even afford to feel human. One of my cousins jumped on that comment (probably without having ever read an entire blog entry) saying that he is in homes of impoverished people all the time and that they have flat screen t.v.'s and more cell phones that they can handle. I am so sick of hearing this attack on the working class. Always the same. Always the exact same wording even. He's a cop. I simply asked him if he made a habit of condemning an entire group due to a percentage of negative representatives. His being a cop directly effects his perspecitve. He only ever sees law breakers, rich or poor. What I really wanted to ask him was why he thought they had so many cell phones. It's not like our society has developed a status indicated by the number of cell phones you carry. Nobody on the "A" list gets out of a Limo at the Golden Globes talking on two phones at once. Why would a number of cell phones make anyone believe that a person has money enough when most of us are happy if we can successfully maintain one? I really would like to know this....


The flat-screen t.v. is an easy one. It was while my husband and I had barely a dime to our names that we bought the television we had for 11 years and only recently deposed of for a smaller one. When you have less than nothing you are overly aware of your quality of life compared with others. If you ever get a chunk of money, say, from a bonus or a tax return you have two ways to use it. You can buy extra groceries for the next four weeks and improve your quality of life for one month (pay a few bills in advance with the same effect) or you can by yourself something that will be yours for the rest of your dismal days. A little slice of pie that no one can take away form you. While everything else gets flushed down the drain, pays off debt, gets given to phone companies and utilities; one thing promises to remain nice. That t.v. will always have a better picture and sound than the previous one and you don't owe it a thing. It seems like such a worthwhile investment compared to the alternatives. After all, the rich buy stocks, bonds, jewelry, otherwise indispensable items to keep their money safe and close.


I would venture to guess that the number of cell phones directly relates to the number of agreements broken due to unpaid bills. That or they're dealing drugs and who could blame them? Drugs are worth more than gold these days! 
If we found out tomorrow that gold could get you high, millionaire's assets would be frozen do to their instant status as drug dealers. The only difference is paperwork.

Journal: Week 8

Interesting question today in class, "Is Jane Eyre a woman's story?" I couldn't quiet my mind. My answer? Gosh no! Unless we can consider The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to be a man's story, which I do not. Or Uncle Tom's Cabin to be a black person story which it should not be. The problem I have is that we continue to label things in a way that aligns the term "woman" with suffering or strife or even the overcoming of such. Slaves that were freed were no longer considered slaves but a woman is always a woman whether or not she aligns herself with suffering, strife or victory. If a slave narrative follows the life of a slave for decades after they were freed the narrative is till effected by the fact that they were at one time a slave or are a former slave. Women born 300 years from now should not be burdened by an inferiority complex simply because we decided that somehow a story of an oppressed woman had anything to do with who they are. Which it does not. It has something to do with how they are treated and what opportunities they will have, but it is not what makes them a woman. I agree that it should be given a name, however. There are enough similar stories of women's suffrage to create a category but we must choose our terms wisely. Then again, if the question only meant to ask if this is a story that is considered to be about a woman, titled, Jane Eyre, then my answer is "Yes, of course, but who would ask such a silly question?" Is it an English Woman's story? Is it a 19th Century woman's story? Is it a 19th century, oppressed English woman's bildungsroman? Now we're getting somewhere!


I later discovered that the label I was searching for was "Feminist Literature" and it, as a genre, has existed for hundreds of years... but has never been taught, that I know of.

Poo!

I feel like crap! I woke up at 1am with my throat on fire! WTF? I tossed and turned for about an hour before getting up to look for some pain relief. I couldn't find any. Hubby likes to move the bottle of Aleve around the house. I grabbed some chloriseptic and achieved some r.e.m. before Ben woke me up and told me he vomited in his bed. Double WTF?!

He's fine this morning. His sheets have been through two wash cycles, he's eaten breakfast and despite my fatigue I just may accomplish some holiday baking. I'm certainly putting the kids down for a nap today and taking one myself.

It's raining here, but my jog will happen; just later than I initially planned. It will be good for my system to breath in the moist air and let my nose run. Hopefully I will detox some of what is making my throat hurt.

I have four gifts to wrap today, some cookies or pumpkin bread to make and some kid furniture to move around.

We did something really fun yesterday! We moved the kids furniture again. This time we have decided to make the larger room the bedroom for both of them and the smaller room the play room. We are doing this for two reasons. 1) They gain strength in sharing a bedroom. They love "camping out" together and we have a bunk bed who's top bunk has never been used by either kid. Why not save some room and let them share the bunk bed and the room. 2) They already share a closet because we expanded our bathroom into Juliet's closest a few years ago. This year, we would like to give her a closet on the other side of the room, which will mean a little construction in that room. Construction in the room you sleep in is no fun, but we won't feel so bad doing some construction in a playroom.
Anyway! So far, they love it and so do I! They have so much more room. We are putting some furniture in storage to achieve that new found space, but we can use the furniture again once they decide to have separate bedrooms again. (sometime after that closet is finished)

Anyway, my throat is feeling pretty good, I'm gonna get my jog on!

Happy Wrapping World!

Ugh.

I apologize, my little blogosphere. Believe me when I say that you are in my thoughts, simply not in my holiday to-do list.  booo hoooo

Today was AWESOME!!

We are officially DONE Shopping for everyone else and now Bryson and I only have to buy for each other. (I actually only have one more thing to get him... shhhhh)

I haven't decided how I am going to work in a jog everyday. Now that I don't have school and limited gym time, I would like to take in some classes. But while classes are free, childcare is not. I don't feel like paying a fee everyday, which pretty well leaves me with the option of getting up and running first thing in the morning. Say 6-ish? I get tired just thinking about it. Honestly I know that it will be difficult for the first two mornings and then I won't be able to imagine a morning with out a brisk jog, but thinking about the bitter cold is making my throat hurt. So, I'm going to stop thinking about it.

I think the kids go back to school before I do so I think I'll save my class going for that tiny break before the Spring Semester slaps me in the face.

*BREAKING NEWS* This Masters stuff is not easy! I'm actually nervous to take two classes next semester and have twice the work. WHAT IF I'M NOT SMART ENOUGH?! EEK!!!

I go to bed now. Apparently a 6am jog is calling.

Week 6

We only have one class this week. Does that mean I only need to write half as much? ha ha 
Who am I kidding? Two pages seems to be making itself my minimum. 
I have read 3 1/2 chapters of "A Room of One's Own." It is much more riveting than I remember it. Although last time I read it with much haste, the placed that I originally highlighted no longer register their importance to me. Now a completely new voice is emerging. Something has changed. Who was I when I read this the first time? Who am I now that I find an essay riveting? I feel as though she is talking directly to me this time. All my work on my blog trying to create valid arguments or write a days events in some entertaining way and now Virginia Woolf is saying "JD! It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top." My Grandmother used to sit at the edge of the lake while we swam and, being unable to swim, dipped only her feet into the water. The fish, the tiny ones, Virginia Woolf's thrown back thoughts used to swim up and nibble her tows. She usually watched them and wiggled her feet to shoo them away but when we stole her attention of her mind fell on memories or the beautiful day, we would hear the short, distinct squeak specific to our Grandmothers toes being nibbled without her consent, followed by shallow splashes as she sent those "fish into hiding"(from Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own)
Virginia Woolf said to me today, "JD, When an arguer argues dispassionately he" (she meant to say "she") "thinks only of the argument: and the reader cannot help thinking of the argument too. This is the explanation you've been looking for. This is what you are finding out" ... I wonder how big my fish will get... 


***Virginia Woolf has never referenced me personally in any of her essays. This is a journal entry and fantasy. Thank you for reading it as such.***

Week 5

We were reading The Story of Avis during this week's discussion.


The question of what two things the character of Avis was struggling between was asked sometime last week. I believed it to be art and beauty. Somehow it makes sense in my head that while Avis is seen by everyone else as a beauty she longs to create art. As if beauty is a surface condition but art is the employment of beauty and is based in reality.
It intrigues me to no end that the first criticism in the back of the book says that Phelps (the author) makes it obvious that her opinion is against marriage and then goes on to say that this is "a dangerous lesson to preach, and no less dangerous than untrue." yet it is this critics observation that Avis "against her instincts and contrary to her determination, [ ] allows herself to be beguiled into marriage." The word beguiled is where I take issue. It's funny to me that we noticed the same things only I, who am opposed to marriage in general, saw the main character as submitting to it for love, while the critic who seems bent in favor of unions assumes that deceit was part of the game. I'm extremely pleased not to have been a woman in those times.
My mother and I were talking about the book The Awakening recently and I told her that Kate Chopin also rights a short story that has been my favorite since I read it over two years ago. It's called The Story of an Hour. It seems to us that women in subservient positions within their marriage (and those in dominant positions) are the unhappy majority. It is the equal unions and only those that seem to be less inclined to complain. I'll have to finish these thoughts in a new notebook, this one is due today.

*          *          *

I believe I was talking about equal couple and happiness. I shouldn't speak as an expert. I don't know many happy couples. Aside from my marriage and maybe one or two others, the rest just make a mockery of this so-called sanctity. 

Journal Entries

I've been racking my brain trying to think of how to fit my blog in this week. If you follow me, you know that I will be writing everyday, but not on the blog, and anytime I write outside of the blog, I typically forget about my little bloggy.

What I've decided to do is share some of my journal entries from the semester. During the course of the semester I had to handwrite two pages a week. Not a small job, but not an extremely difficult one either. Typically, I wrote in my journal when something about our required reading, or a classroom discussion particularly interested me.

The entries should speak for themselves, but if not I'll add some small notes in red or blue or purple or whatever color tickles my fancy that day. Savvy? I hope you enjoy.

Week 1


Today in class the professor asked (in an "of course" sort of way) what was wrong with the phrase "Noble Savage." I barely remember what was said, because my mind began to reel. What is wrong with "Noble Savage?" Only everything! First of all, "Noble Savage" is a label and like all labels it can never be accurate because of it's tendency to generalize. That's basic. Labels will always work better to exclude people than to include and hence cause bigger problems than they, may originally seem to solve. What good has come of labels like, "Liberal," "conservative," "Democrat," "Republican" and "Independent," other than to separate and cause argument for argument's sake.
Further than that however is the fact that "Noble Savage" is harmful because of its double term. "Noble" has positive connotations and "Savage" (unless talking about Fred) has negative connotations. Labels notoriously create "others" better than they create themselves. For example instead of changing the label "Savage," in adding a "Noble" the "other" Savage is instantly created; the not-noble Savage must exist. Or else, why distinguish?
Perhaps even more harmful than that, though is the other "other" that is created. The other that is implied is the "Noble" non-savage. This one is harder to communicate but I believe I am going in the right direction here. What or who are you if you are not a "Noble Savage?" Are you a Noble or a Savage? Now, if you do not consider yourself to be a Savage are you necessarily noble? No. And the opposite isn't true either. Would anyone admit to being a "Savage Noble?" Probably not, but that doesn't mean that they don't exist. 
It is unfair then to the people being labeled as "Savage," "Noble Savage" or otherwise that the very label which is meant to promote a positive image, is the very label that will prevent them from being considered anything other than "savage."
The same is true for sex/gender. There does not only exist the Masculine Male and Feminine Female and every polarized other that they create, but all the variations in between that would be impossible to label. I'm hoping to find out, in this class, that there is such a thing as Women's Writing and that it, either, has nothing to do with being a female, or everything to do with it, rendering it unrecognizable. Anything in between and I wonder how we would study it.


Please remember that these are arguments as they slip from my grey matter and like newborns, not fully formed or strong enough to hold themselves up. ...Yet!

I know, right?

I keep forgetting my favorite pastime!  No, not eating. I've been so nervous about my paper and I've been trying to get so many other things done that I just forget about my Blog. Poor little blog.

Did I mention I get to write a 20 page paper this week?  yay! I have the introduction just about handled, but now I need to make an outline so that I don't lose sight of my point.  Something I do pretty easily. I like to tangent(this is typically a noun, but I have made it a verb for the purpose of me using it for myself. That's right, it's all about me today).

Hello?! My blog!

I don't really have anything else to say about that...

Outline here I come!

Light Me Up!

You know, the more I meditate on this holiday season, the more I realize that buying a real tree is just morbid! I mean, someone cuts down a living thing, puts it up for display, sells it based on appearance and then people stick it in their living room, dress it up and celebrate something completely unrelated while it dies. <shiver>  It's grotesque.

Today in class we were talking about Christmas cookies. Making our cookies, eating our cookies, sharing our cookies... it turned dirty. Let's face it the holiday reeks of innuendos. One of my favorite older songs is the 1960 - "Santa Clause Got Stuck in My Chimney" by Ella Fitzgerald. Must be a tight chimney, that or Santa is bigger than we all thought!

Just in case you're feeling a little chilly tonight, here's some Gaga to warm you up. This song is Ho Ho Delicious! Try not to Fa la la all over yourself... and if you do, clean it up!

So... about that....

So about yesterday.... I completely forgot to write because I was at school working on a book review. any day that I am actually writing for school, I find it hard to remember to right for leisure. I will get better at that, I hope. Anyway, today I will write two, how's that?

Last night I had two egg nog/ Southern Comfort drinks. DELICIOUS, but filling and not that good for you. The bonus is that they make me sleepy... and I have been needing to sleep!

I keep trying to go to bed earlier and earlier and yet, most of the time I am getting to bed later and later. So tonight I'm laying down at 9:30 damn it! You just watch me! (well, don't actually watch, that would be creepy)

Here's a crappy picture of our lovely living room:

That tree was thirteen dollars when we bought it 12 years ago, and last night I had to buy it a new stand for sixteen dollars! Damn stand better last us another 12 years!

Woops! Here it is with it's new stand and the first present of the season. I love this little tree!

Happy Monday!

When my Mother-in-law's dog, Sammy, bolted from our house towards a busy street on Saturday, two truck tires quickly taught him it was not a good idea. I would like to thank him for giving me a reason to drive like Mario Andretti getting him to a pet hospital. Believe it or not, World, that dog walked away with  only a scratch on his damn nose! Sunday morning he was running, licking and peeing just the way he had been on Friday. His name should be changed to LUCKY! We all thought he was a goner.

Sammy, we're so glad you're ok!

Wunning Woutine

Over the years I've done two very similar wogging routines to work back into jogging. Both times I learned the same thing. It's best if you see the schedule as a guide but make up your own routine as you go along.

One thing I decidedly don't like about both wogging programs is that they boast fast results and urge weekly improvements. Just as when I was 18, now 33, my body does not like being told when to move up in difficulty. And listening to my body has been the only successful tactic I've maintained.

That being said. Here is the "schedule" I have been following. Many things get changed along the way depending on how I feel and notice I have eliminated the "Weeks" and replaced them with "Levels." I will explain more below.

At the risk of sounding like Shel Silverstein, I'll call this my - 
Wunning Woutine:

Level 1: Walk at a brisk pace for 30 minutes. (enough to maintain a steady but elevated heart rate)

Level 2: Walk at a brisk pace for 3 minutes, jog for 1, repeat for 31 minutes (3 minutes of walking at the beginning and at the end)

Level 3: WABP (Walk At Brisk Pace) for 2 minutes, jog for 1. Do this to fill 32 minutes (2 minutes of walking at the beginning and at the end)

Level 4: WABP for 3 minutes, Jog for 2, continue for 28 minutes. (the time is decreased because the total run time in level 3 is ten minutes. I don't like to jump from ten to 12 on the same day that I increase my running minutes)


Level 5: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 2/walk 2, repeat for 24 minutes.

Level 6: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 2/walk 2, repeat for 28 minutes.

Level 7: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 2/walk 2, repeat for 32 minutes.

Level 8: WABP for 5 minutes then Jog 3/ walk 2, repeat for 25 minutes. (total run time decreases again to work on stamina)


Level 9: WABP for 5 minutes then Jog 3/ walk 2, repeat for 30 minutes.

Level 10: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 4/ walk 2, repeat for 22 minutes.

Level 11: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 4/ walk 2, repeat for 28 minutes.

After Level 11 it is really up to the jogger to try and eliminate the walking breaks. One way to do this is to jog as long as you can and walk when you get winded, walking for no longer than 2 minutes at a time. When you can no longer jog more than a minute, call it quits for the day. You will see the accumulated jog time increase slowly.

I can stay at a level for three weeks sometimes. It is never good to move up before you are ready. Here are some rules I live by.

1) Always make an effort - Even if you are on Level 11, doing a few days at Level 1 won't hurt. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A WASTED WORK OUT! When you are done remind yourself that you made an effort and that's all that matters.

2) Never set an "End Goal." Being physically fit won't last if you're only doing it to fit into this dress or that shirt. Success happens on a daily basis and so do failures. Think of fitness as a life-long achievement and take all the ups and downs in stride. There are no "end goals" because fitness never ends.

3) When you feel like you can move up a level, give yourself one more day in the level you're at.  This may have you chomping at the bit to try the next level, but there's nothing wrong with that! Looking forward to a challenge is what keeps us motivated. Rather than earning a reward with hard work, why not earn your hard work with easy work? This is a great way to remind yourself that you are now a life long achiever.

4) There is no shame in starting over! If you decide to run at a faster pace, moving down in levels can help the transition. If you get sick or injured, coming back is coming back, no matter where you begin again.

5) Take steps, small ones. While a goal is a net that catches a ball and keeps it trapped, a step is something we take on our way to something else. Giving yourself a "next step" is a great way to motivate. Rewarding steps is fun too! Just don't let your rewards be a detriment to your work out. (food and candy are out, but new work out gear, a pedicure, some new music or even a few extra hours of sleep are great rewards! ... a cocktail never hurt either!)

That's all I have for today.
Happy Running World!

Busy...

My son turned seven today. I had a presentation to give. We went out to dinner.

I wrote a really awesome entry for our family news letter, but can't copy and paste it on my blog due to formatting.

So, I'm going to bed.