i started teaching spring classes yesterday, which is always fun. i love the first week. and the second week. most all weeks, actually. i [gulp!] love my job.
there's always this precious moment of stillness the first day, when everyone is now seated, all is quiet, and ALL EYES ON ARE ON FRONT OF THE ROOM. i'm busying myself with, oh, writing my name on the board, and then also writing the list up there of what we'll be doing that day. i LOVE this moment, hate to break the solemn potential of a class before it has become a class. this moment is so sweet ("stay gold ponyboy, stay gold") because soon we'll get to know each other and there will be the equally-treasured familiarity and joviality, where no one ever shuts up when class starts until i clear my throat like, 15 times and fake a stroke and then they're all laughing and paying attention. [aside about the list of stuff on board: i've always done this, for myself, as well as for students. one student wrote under 'instructor weaknesses' on my evaluations from the fall term, "sometimes sylvia gets a little off track and likes to just talk with her students socially, but if she puts her list up on the board, everything goes well." lol. he or she is dead-on. and if this was the only weakness they he/she could come up with, things are OK.]
well, two first-classes over with, four more to go. four more unique moments to treasure. but these moments, fleeting as they are, give way to what is also THE MOST IMPORTANT CLASS of the semester. numero uno. you know how they say in a job interview, the, uh, "hirer" decides in the first 30 seconds if you're going to get the job or not? i feel like in the first 60 minutes of a class decide the students are going to love it or hate it. and try as i might to be more ... professorial ... i think "if the students love it, they will want to come to class. if they love the class, they will trust me and the advice i have to offer. if they trust me and listen to my advice, they will become (hopefully!) better at the subject ..." and on ad infinitum.
cicero and quintilian had lots of advice on teaching students about speaking, quintilian in particular about teaching students in general. he did some wonderful writing about the importance of character, how to be a good speaker, you needed first to BE A GOOD PERSON. which, cheesy as it sounds, is true. (i don't tell my students this. maybe i should). so how to teach this? i guess i don't think you do "teach" this. you model it.
so, for those of you doubters out there, those of you who think i'm teaching the easiest classes in the world (maybe a little true), there's a method to my madness. it revolves around liking my students (loving them?), and being accessible and funny and wishing in my heart (while i'm teaching) that i could hug them all and smile and tell them: "you're doing JUST FINE. you've made it this far, so you're in good shape. you're going to be WONDERFUL, just wait."
but most of them already are.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
birth stuff (boys, go read maxim or something)
uhm. some of my readers know that before i wanted to be anything, i wanted to be a surgeon (as a kid), then in early adolescence, an OB-GYN. but by mid-late high school i was too scared of medical school science classes and had fallen in love with stories of rural midwives in latin america and wanted to just be a nurse-midwife. (i had idealistic visions of learning midwifery once in an MS program, and then again in the developing world "field" ... [and look what i'm doing with my life now. SIGH. the story of how i ended up majoring in english is a boring one, evidencing only my own laziness.]
anyhoodle, i wanted to do these jobs because i was so obsessively fascinated by pregnancy, childbirth, babies, and the women behind all of this magical madness. i loved women. i still do love women, duh. even if it ends up i can't have my own children (for whatever fucking reason), i still might someday come back to this alternate career as a midwife/doula. (you know how on seinfeld, george always wanted to be an architect, so he kind of almost ... thinks he's an architect ... but mostly he just likes saying "i always wanted to be an architect, you know." it's like that with me and midwifery, seriously pathetic as it sounds).
where am i going with this again??
oh yeah: slate just did a review of ricki lake's documentary "the business of being born," which slate calls her "valentine to the home-birth movement," lol. i think it's a good review (and i haven't even seen the film, so my opinion really matters here, i know) mainly because while it acknowledges lake has some good points to make about home deliveries, the review points out that the filmmakers' agenda is to suggest home-birth is A GOOD IDEA FOR EVERY MOTHER. which is crazy-preachy. i'm crazy-preachy myself too much of the time, so i immediately detect it in others. (like my other worst qualities, i detest them in others because i really hate them in myself).
but i wonder: would i attempt a home-birth, ever? i have no idea. i guess it all depends on a million other factors. (such as: is there a hospital in close driving-distance? has it been a healthy pregnancy? is babykins positioned correctly at the right time? is my midwife a wizened sage or a 15-year-old neighbor girl? etc. the list goes on).
well, it's fun to think about as i sit here drinking very strong coffee, smoking, blogging ... birth is often on my mind, ridiculous as it seems ...
SUPER CHEESY ALERT: yes, in a moment of weakness a few years ago i (gulp!) read five people you meet in heaven by mitch albom. [again, i'm not proud of this, but i had heard good things ...] everyone, the main character finds out, has their own kind of heaven. heaven is different for everyone, based on the life they lived (more or less). well anyway, one thing stuck with me (was the part that made me cry in the book): the character that was the old man's wife, having died years before he did, has a very sweet kind of personal heaven: she goes from one wedding to the next all over the world, all the time. to her, this is the most beautiful moment in a lifetime -- when a couple is happiest and most optimistic and full of love and promise and everything else. that's HER heaven, seeing all these deliriously happy people start the adventures of their lives together.
of course, it was more poetic than i could put here. but even reading that then, i felt like if i had my own heaven, it would be seeing babies be born, all the time. it's hard to see a baby be born and not have tears spring from your eyes. hard not to be awed, cowed by the power and energy of the universe and sweat and blood (literally) of the mother. just thinking about it, visualizing it, i get goosebumps.
i am not a religious person. i never will be. but i believe in the SOMETHING.
the power that runs through all living things. and every birth, to me, is evidence of something holy, miraculous, sublime -- maybe it's just the complete physical manifestation of LOVE.
anyhoodle, i wanted to do these jobs because i was so obsessively fascinated by pregnancy, childbirth, babies, and the women behind all of this magical madness. i loved women. i still do love women, duh. even if it ends up i can't have my own children (for whatever fucking reason), i still might someday come back to this alternate career as a midwife/doula. (you know how on seinfeld, george always wanted to be an architect, so he kind of almost ... thinks he's an architect ... but mostly he just likes saying "i always wanted to be an architect, you know." it's like that with me and midwifery, seriously pathetic as it sounds).
where am i going with this again??
oh yeah: slate just did a review of ricki lake's documentary "the business of being born," which slate calls her "valentine to the home-birth movement," lol. i think it's a good review (and i haven't even seen the film, so my opinion really matters here, i know) mainly because while it acknowledges lake has some good points to make about home deliveries, the review points out that the filmmakers' agenda is to suggest home-birth is A GOOD IDEA FOR EVERY MOTHER. which is crazy-preachy. i'm crazy-preachy myself too much of the time, so i immediately detect it in others. (like my other worst qualities, i detest them in others because i really hate them in myself).
but i wonder: would i attempt a home-birth, ever? i have no idea. i guess it all depends on a million other factors. (such as: is there a hospital in close driving-distance? has it been a healthy pregnancy? is babykins positioned correctly at the right time? is my midwife a wizened sage or a 15-year-old neighbor girl? etc. the list goes on).
well, it's fun to think about as i sit here drinking very strong coffee, smoking, blogging ... birth is often on my mind, ridiculous as it seems ...
SUPER CHEESY ALERT: yes, in a moment of weakness a few years ago i (gulp!) read five people you meet in heaven by mitch albom. [again, i'm not proud of this, but i had heard good things ...] everyone, the main character finds out, has their own kind of heaven. heaven is different for everyone, based on the life they lived (more or less). well anyway, one thing stuck with me (was the part that made me cry in the book): the character that was the old man's wife, having died years before he did, has a very sweet kind of personal heaven: she goes from one wedding to the next all over the world, all the time. to her, this is the most beautiful moment in a lifetime -- when a couple is happiest and most optimistic and full of love and promise and everything else. that's HER heaven, seeing all these deliriously happy people start the adventures of their lives together.
of course, it was more poetic than i could put here. but even reading that then, i felt like if i had my own heaven, it would be seeing babies be born, all the time. it's hard to see a baby be born and not have tears spring from your eyes. hard not to be awed, cowed by the power and energy of the universe and sweat and blood (literally) of the mother. just thinking about it, visualizing it, i get goosebumps.
i am not a religious person. i never will be. but i believe in the SOMETHING.
the power that runs through all living things. and every birth, to me, is evidence of something holy, miraculous, sublime -- maybe it's just the complete physical manifestation of LOVE.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
belated rant post (long, sorry!)
ok, disclaimer: i have been known to talk in movies. [insert snorting from friends.] that said, since I HATE TALKING IN MOVIES, i do in nearly inaudible whispers, leaning in SO ONLY THE PERSON I'M TALKING TO can hear me. this makes sense, right? no one else needs to hear my editorializing.
now: as some of you know, i LOVED the movie juno and saw it twice, the second time last weekend here in The South. i was partial to this movie for 100 reasons, one of them being that the main character and her friend reminded me all-too-well of how my friends and i were in high school (except juno and her BFF were startlingly wittier and cooler than we were -- those two chicks were pretty much what my h.s. friends aspired to be in mpls: we were into freaky shit. we were wildly profane. we listened to "alternative" music (when it WAS). we skipped classes and did weird, artsy things. we wore thrift store clothes and vans and chuck taylors. we had weird families. we made stupid movies and one of us (not me!) got pregnant and kept the baby ...)
so, i was getting a little annoyed during my second, dixie-screening of juno when the row of freaky-goody-goodies behind us wouldn't FUCKING SHUT UP. mostly it annoyed me because they giggled and whispered during the most serious scenes, the ones that made me cry. the ones where the audience was supposed to be in a collective hush, awed by the cinema's ability to make our hearts be still, our breathing stop momentarily ... and then a snort/chortle/loud-whisper from my peanut gallery. aaaaarrrrgghhhh.
at first i ignored them, as is my (usual) non-confrontational way.
then, i got TOO PISSY! i actually turned around sharply once (or TWICE!) to glare. this shut them up momentarily.
however, during the end of the movie, and during what are admittedly the film's most evocative, most powerful scenes (thereby marking the permanent shift [it had been gradual until then] from lighthearted comedy to serious drama), where i was bawling, i heard the whispering and snickering A-FUCKING-GAIN.
couldn't believe it. obviously, they were young, immature, couldn't handle the emotional impact of the film, blah blah blah. whatever. i debated pouring my diet coke on them i was so ticked.
instead, without even looking at them, i just gave them the finger. i held it there a bit, to make sure they all saw it. they did. they got quiet. they stayed quiet until the movie was over. if one of them talked, a girl somewhere nearby shushed them. it was SO NICE. :) like a movie should be.
CRAZY PART I CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE WENT ON TO HAPPEN:
leaving the theater, there was a young (h.s.? college?) girl standing alone, looking around. i thought, "uh oh, it was one of them. she's going to apologize for the talking during the movie. now i feel bad i flipped them off. i'm such an asshole. i never do stuff like that -- what came over me??"
uhm ... no. not really at all.
girl to me: "excuse me, can i talk to you?" [but imagine with a heavy southern twang. every day i live here i get more and more prejudiced against the south, it's so funny. before i lived here i really loved it.]
me: "yes?"
girl: "i just wanted to let you know that i thought what you did there in the theater was totally inappropriate."
me: [shock and disbelief. what has the fucking world come to? why is she SAYING THIS TO ME? SHE AND HER FRIENDS WERE THE RUDE ONES.] "are you kidding? you guys were being so obnoxious, talking during the whole movie."
girl: "well, it wasn't me so much as my friends, but still, you had no right to do that, to do that obscene gesture. it was very rude."
me: [what the hell did she think of juno then? they said "fuck" all the time in that movie. what is wrong with these young people??? i wanted to say "go fuck yourself, i had every right to flip you off you ignorant bitch," i really did. instead:] "giving someone the finger is WAY LESS RUDE than talking during an entire movie, i'm sorry. you're being ridiculous." [and instead of being charmingly patronizing or something, i was actually VERY angry.]
girl: [flustered, i think she could tell I WAS SO PISSED I MIGHT TAKE MY MIDDLE FINGERS AND BREAK HER LITTLE 80 LB BODY IN HALF] "well, uh, i'm sorry ... but it was uncalled for..."
[here was where i was already walking away, out the door, ignoring her.] my friend, g, was trying valiantly to contain his laughter, i learned. apparently, he thought i merely held up a "please be quiet" sort of hand during the movie. he didn't know i gave them the finger until the end of this exchange, and thought that was HILARIOUS.
mrah. it is funny in retrospect. bastard righteous kids. i have no respect for adolescents who didn't make some attempt to ... fight the system in h.s. ... churchy kids, boring kids who followed the rules, who didn't do anything wild or dangerous or didn't read freaky books and didn't feel tortured by The Man, whatever -- they got on my nerves, and they still do, apparently. i guess we all have our High Horses we ride about some things. being weird is one of mine (even though i learned over the years, it's much, much more fun to disguise it most of the time).
now: as some of you know, i LOVED the movie juno and saw it twice, the second time last weekend here in The South. i was partial to this movie for 100 reasons, one of them being that the main character and her friend reminded me all-too-well of how my friends and i were in high school (except juno and her BFF were startlingly wittier and cooler than we were -- those two chicks were pretty much what my h.s. friends aspired to be in mpls: we were into freaky shit. we were wildly profane. we listened to "alternative" music (when it WAS). we skipped classes and did weird, artsy things. we wore thrift store clothes and vans and chuck taylors. we had weird families. we made stupid movies and one of us (not me!) got pregnant and kept the baby ...)
so, i was getting a little annoyed during my second, dixie-screening of juno when the row of freaky-goody-goodies behind us wouldn't FUCKING SHUT UP. mostly it annoyed me because they giggled and whispered during the most serious scenes, the ones that made me cry. the ones where the audience was supposed to be in a collective hush, awed by the cinema's ability to make our hearts be still, our breathing stop momentarily ... and then a snort/chortle/loud-whisper from my peanut gallery. aaaaarrrrgghhhh.
at first i ignored them, as is my (usual) non-confrontational way.
then, i got TOO PISSY! i actually turned around sharply once (or TWICE!) to glare. this shut them up momentarily.
however, during the end of the movie, and during what are admittedly the film's most evocative, most powerful scenes (thereby marking the permanent shift [it had been gradual until then] from lighthearted comedy to serious drama), where i was bawling, i heard the whispering and snickering A-FUCKING-GAIN.
couldn't believe it. obviously, they were young, immature, couldn't handle the emotional impact of the film, blah blah blah. whatever. i debated pouring my diet coke on them i was so ticked.
instead, without even looking at them, i just gave them the finger. i held it there a bit, to make sure they all saw it. they did. they got quiet. they stayed quiet until the movie was over. if one of them talked, a girl somewhere nearby shushed them. it was SO NICE. :) like a movie should be.
CRAZY PART I CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE WENT ON TO HAPPEN:
leaving the theater, there was a young (h.s.? college?) girl standing alone, looking around. i thought, "uh oh, it was one of them. she's going to apologize for the talking during the movie. now i feel bad i flipped them off. i'm such an asshole. i never do stuff like that -- what came over me??"
uhm ... no. not really at all.
girl to me: "excuse me, can i talk to you?" [but imagine with a heavy southern twang. every day i live here i get more and more prejudiced against the south, it's so funny. before i lived here i really loved it.]
me: "yes?"
girl: "i just wanted to let you know that i thought what you did there in the theater was totally inappropriate."
me: [shock and disbelief. what has the fucking world come to? why is she SAYING THIS TO ME? SHE AND HER FRIENDS WERE THE RUDE ONES.] "are you kidding? you guys were being so obnoxious, talking during the whole movie."
girl: "well, it wasn't me so much as my friends, but still, you had no right to do that, to do that obscene gesture. it was very rude."
me: [what the hell did she think of juno then? they said "fuck" all the time in that movie. what is wrong with these young people??? i wanted to say "go fuck yourself, i had every right to flip you off you ignorant bitch," i really did. instead:] "giving someone the finger is WAY LESS RUDE than talking during an entire movie, i'm sorry. you're being ridiculous." [and instead of being charmingly patronizing or something, i was actually VERY angry.]
girl: [flustered, i think she could tell I WAS SO PISSED I MIGHT TAKE MY MIDDLE FINGERS AND BREAK HER LITTLE 80 LB BODY IN HALF] "well, uh, i'm sorry ... but it was uncalled for..."
[here was where i was already walking away, out the door, ignoring her.] my friend, g, was trying valiantly to contain his laughter, i learned. apparently, he thought i merely held up a "please be quiet" sort of hand during the movie. he didn't know i gave them the finger until the end of this exchange, and thought that was HILARIOUS.
mrah. it is funny in retrospect. bastard righteous kids. i have no respect for adolescents who didn't make some attempt to ... fight the system in h.s. ... churchy kids, boring kids who followed the rules, who didn't do anything wild or dangerous or didn't read freaky books and didn't feel tortured by The Man, whatever -- they got on my nerves, and they still do, apparently. i guess we all have our High Horses we ride about some things. being weird is one of mine (even though i learned over the years, it's much, much more fun to disguise it most of the time).
olan mills hilarity
i got an email forward last night (gracias! you know who you are!) containing some hilarious "olan mills" portraits with snarky captions, and instead of putting them all here, i'll just do a few and instead point you to another blog containing all the pics.
to be fair, some of the photo studios featured are NOT olan mills portraits, but that doesn't matter. because many actually are, and they all smack of the "olan mills" studio experience. [aside: "picture day" at school every fall was a horror for me. every single year i took a terrifically ugly photo, and then would BEG my mother to let me get re-takes. (which she only did like, once, when i had my eyes closed or something. never one to indulge my vanity, she would tread that shallow pool of trying to explain gently that i really did look like that, and/or "it isn't THAT bad, sylvia, honestly." i wish i had some of my own to put here; there were some gems, let me tell you).]
so here's a sampling of the hilarity (click on link above to see complete selection, and although i wish i could take credit for the zinger captions, alas, they're some mysterious other person's ...):
Just a typical day on the plantation. In a business suit. Y'know, for a budget meeting with the slaves.
Bobbi isn't the first waitress to fall for her manager, but she and Dale both got fired from Shoney's.
to be fair, some of the photo studios featured are NOT olan mills portraits, but that doesn't matter. because many actually are, and they all smack of the "olan mills" studio experience. [aside: "picture day" at school every fall was a horror for me. every single year i took a terrifically ugly photo, and then would BEG my mother to let me get re-takes. (which she only did like, once, when i had my eyes closed or something. never one to indulge my vanity, she would tread that shallow pool of trying to explain gently that i really did look like that, and/or "it isn't THAT bad, sylvia, honestly." i wish i had some of my own to put here; there were some gems, let me tell you).]
so here's a sampling of the hilarity (click on link above to see complete selection, and although i wish i could take credit for the zinger captions, alas, they're some mysterious other person's ...):
Just a typical day on the plantation. In a business suit. Y'know, for a budget meeting with the slaves.
Bobbi isn't the first waitress to fall for her manager, but she and Dale both got fired from Shoney's.
Friday, January 11, 2008
happy birthday, g.
many of you have probably seen this already, most likely including my birthday boy-friend (secret code name "g" for our purposes here), but if not: ENJOY. it's wonderful and hysterical both. why in god's name can't we put our american prison inmates to productive use doing coordinated dance routines?? for crying out loud, it's not like we need that many more license plates, and I KNOW it would be a great way to keep spirits up as well as build camaraderie. [warning: the ending is a little freaky, hinting at prison gang rape, maybe? poor "girl" punk, sigh ...]
1,500 inmates from the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center, Phillippines performing "Thriller" in exercise yard:
1,500 inmates from the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center, Phillippines performing "Thriller" in exercise yard:
Thursday, January 10, 2008
my new favorite song!
and the video is super-cute, too (see bottom of post for song/video). unfortunately, regina spektor's other songs are good, but i haven't found one as awesome as this one. i'm suffering lately from massive girl-singer crushes, whoa. i might have to consider becoming a lesbian for these ladies, i'm so in love with them, esp their INCREDIBLY SEXY VOICES. first it was the chick from feist, who i found irresistible in both style, songs, dance moves ... [wistful sigh. see awesome videos for "1, 2, 3, 4" and "my moon, my man."]
then it was rachael yamagata [click for her new album teaser, here for a great song.] since she plays piano like regina spektor and looks a lot like feist lady, i'm starting to see a trend ... and it involves HEAVY BANGS.
then there's lily allen. oh, lily. [sorry for that.] you also have fantastic bangs. i love the london accent, christ i love it. you're pregnant now, so i sort of hate you for that. (especially because you're like, 12). but your "LDN" song makes me smile like a crazy person and speed WAY TOO FAST when i listen to it in the car.
and you might recall my Ode to the Juno Soundtrack post from december, with its appropriate shout-out to kimya dawson. no need to say the same thing twice. (except i will add that i've now seen juno TWICE and it was hands-down my favorite movie of the year. i laughed. i cried. and then did both of those again. diablo cody better win the oscar for best original screenplay, or somebody from the AMPAS will ... feel my seething anger from across the continent. or something).
as usual, i got a little off-track. fabulous, eerily-similarly-looking hot girl musicians i adore. (norah jones, you were, of course, the first -- but that was years ago. do you have bangs now? i'd like to include you here, but am not sure. so sorry about your break-up. i heard. they SUCK ASS.)
without further ado, "fidelity" by regina spektor:
then it was rachael yamagata [click for her new album teaser, here for a great song.] since she plays piano like regina spektor and looks a lot like feist lady, i'm starting to see a trend ... and it involves HEAVY BANGS.
then there's lily allen. oh, lily. [sorry for that.] you also have fantastic bangs. i love the london accent, christ i love it. you're pregnant now, so i sort of hate you for that. (especially because you're like, 12). but your "LDN" song makes me smile like a crazy person and speed WAY TOO FAST when i listen to it in the car.
and you might recall my Ode to the Juno Soundtrack post from december, with its appropriate shout-out to kimya dawson. no need to say the same thing twice. (except i will add that i've now seen juno TWICE and it was hands-down my favorite movie of the year. i laughed. i cried. and then did both of those again. diablo cody better win the oscar for best original screenplay, or somebody from the AMPAS will ... feel my seething anger from across the continent. or something).
as usual, i got a little off-track. fabulous, eerily-similarly-looking hot girl musicians i adore. (norah jones, you were, of course, the first -- but that was years ago. do you have bangs now? i'd like to include you here, but am not sure. so sorry about your break-up. i heard. they SUCK ASS.)
without further ado, "fidelity" by regina spektor:
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
flowers for algernon disclaimer ...
... before it's too late, i need to mention this other side effect to my new medication. in my excitement over finding a pill that strips me both of migraines and extra pounds, i neglected to mention this other, potentially less-awesome side effect.i need to articulate this other side effect before i lose that very capacity ... you see, the neurologists did suggest that in my "line of work" (i.e., teaching public speaking to college students), it might be a little awkward when I LOSE THE ABILITY TO RECALL WORDS.
ahem. yes, apparently this is a commonplace occurrence for people taking topamax, and what happens is that you'll just be talking (or writing? or blogging???) and then the most everyday language will escape you and as one user wrote on a topamax message board, you suffer an "attack of the stupids." since this happens to me a lot anyway, i bet most people won't even notice. i'm often fumbling for the simplest of words, and when students helpfully "fill in the blank" for me, it becomes A LEARNING EXPERIENCE. (hi people, ever heard of teaching??)
my dad made me read flowers for algernon when i was a kid. and then, no shit, (i don't think he was being ironic on purpose, really) he forgot a couple years later and made me read it again. for those of you whose parents didn't force literature down your throats growing up, it's a sad/weird story of a mentally-challenged janitor (at a bakery, wikipedia reminds me. which also reminds me how even as a child, i thought that if i had to be a janitor anywhere, i'd want to be one at a bakery. christ. the fresh donut smell ...) who starts in this experiment where scientists make him smarter. soon, he's brilliant. then, (awakenings very much? [but that was a true one, ugh.]), crushingly, the treatment wanes and stops working altogether, and charlie (the guy) reverts back to being mentally-challenged.
the tough part (see, i didn't major in english all those years ago FOR NOTHING) i suppose, is that charlie knows he's going to get less smart again before it happens to him. he knows it's going to happen, can see it happening at first, and then pretty soon he's back to spelling his name 'charly' again, as evidenced by the movie poster on the '70s book cover i recall best from my youth. (except with a backwards 'R,' which i can't figure out how to do. OMG? is it starting for me already???)
so, there was my disclaimer. hopefully this won't be too debilitating, as i'm also currently job hunting at the moment, and it would be a real shame to be in an interview and have them ask me about my teaching philosophy and i say something like, "a teaching idea ... yes, i have one. of. these ... but mine is about ... goodness. uh, you know ..." (maybe i should make myself flash cards with words like "social constructionism" and "bel hooks" and "service learning component" and "portfolio-based assessment" on them in case i get an attack of the "stupids" at a critical moment).
and now. that's the end of me talking about the new pills! honestly. i'm sorry i went on with the migraines and stuff as long as i did these last two posts, damn. i've always been slightly irritated by people who wear their ailments/issue like badges of pride, boasting about their depression, their ADD, their dyslexia. while certainly no one should be embarrassed by these things, ever, (period), it makes a person seem weirdly vain when they go on and on about a condition of theirs.
but, probably most of you think this about me already, so no harm done here. (if i can get them to give me my own photo of my brain MRI at the hospital this morning, you'll get to see it here tomorrow!)
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
new migraine relief?
yesterday morning i made my first-ever trip to the neurologist, referred by my GP because i get these chronic headaches and migraines. neat right? kind of. there were a series of tests where they do stuff with the little light, tap your head, test your reflexes, push (or have you push) your muscles. (no shit, there was even this whole "pull my fingers" routine, which i did with a totally STRAIGHT FACE). one of the funniest parts was when another neurologist came in and did this gentle head-tapping thing while listening to my skull with the upside-down side of the stethoscope. i wanted to tell him, "no, no, you need to turn that thing around-- where did you get your neurology certificate, tijuana?" alas, none of the doctors i met had ANY sense of humor, sigh.the good news: i got THREE new prescriptions for combating the headaches, THREE! here's the super-amazing-i'm-bursting-
with-joy news: one of them (topamax) is a daily migraine preventative pill, with the major side effect being WEIGHT LOSS. hello god? a pill that prevents me from getting migraines AND makes me thinner?? i've died and gone to heaven.
when the doc told me this, i chuckled and said, "i've heard botox is being shown to help reduce migraines, too-- once insurance covers that, i'll be ALL SET, haha." [a side note here: the doc chuckled uncomfortably, looked perplexed and said he had never heard of this ... uh, i heard of it a couple of YEARS AGO, and i'm not the goddamn neurologist. click here for info.] anyhoo, he went on to say that he lost 40 LBS IN SIX WEEKS when he went on topamax.
(earlier, in the fall, i did a post about how i was happily [mysteriously] losing weight. well, mystery solved: i was just smoking like a chimney, not eating as much, slightly depressed, and was losing ALL my muscle tone. the holidays rolled around and my body said, "oh sylvia, you dumbass, did you think you were going to lose weight so easily?? mrah-hahaha!! have another holiday snickers bar, why don't you??" and then i gained [cough] a little back.) SO, while i would have to be hospitalized if i lost 40 lbs (putting me somewhere slightly BELOW nicole ritchie in her scariest days), losing a good 10-15-20 lbs would make me excited to put a swimsuit on again.
the other two drugs are for treating headaches: one is specific for migraines (zomig), and the other is for tension headaches (bupap). according to the first neurologist, i had an incredible amount of tension in my back-neck-head area (medical term for this location, anyone?), and when i suggested this might be because i JUST DROVE 20 HOURS STRAIGHT [didn't mention i had two dogs in the backseat] ON SATURDAY, he just sort of absently nodded and said it was a good drug.
although the doctors yesterday were very nice older gentlemen, i was a little perturbed i didn't have an opportunity to ask a lot of the questions i had brought with me in a notebook. there just wasn't a good window. and they gave me a list of migraine triggers that I'D SEEN 100 FUCKING TIMES, the only surprise was aspartame (damn! good-bye normal diet coke, equal in my daily coffee ...) i wanted to say, "yes, yes, OK, you're the neurologists, really, and i'm NOT A DOCTOR, to be sure, but i've read a million things about migraines, including the oliver sacks book titled, appropriately, migraine, and so i have some specific questions now ..." but [sigh] there wasn't a chance and i didn't have the energy (i actually HAD A BAD HEADACHE yesterday, go figure) to tackle them as they were leaving the room.
tomorrow i go to the hospital for a brain MRI, which i assume judging from the way they mentioned it so off-handedly, is just a lawsuit-precautionary measure. (usually, my migraines change sides each time -- one month pounding behind/in/around one eye, the next month in the the other. i guess the MRI will rule out the possibility i have TWO similarly-shaped tumors on both sides of my my brain, or something like that).
speaking of the pain, i can remember it the way you can remember a smell ... hazy at first, then sharply clear. i might explain someday how during my migraines over the years, my fantasies of REMOVING THE PAIN WITH A DEVICE have evolved ... first i remember, when i was young, wishing plainly for a vice, to stick my head in a vice and crank it tighter and tighter. then later, the notion of a drill came to me: drill a hole in the offending temple, and the pain would (magically) flow out. in recent years, all i can imagine over and over when i have the pain, is a melon-baller: scoop scoop! into my eye socket and around in the temple, and i could scoop it all out. i wanted to ask the doctor if anyone else had mentioned taking a melon-baller to their eyeball/head ... i actually had it written down to ask about.
i'll keep you posted, faithful four readers. :) maybe my migraines will soon be a thing of the past! maybe if you get them, you should see your doctor, too! and maybe if you're desperate to lose weight, you should go see your doctor and explain about your chronic debilitating migraines, that you'd kept secret for so long ...
Monday, January 7, 2008
"where all the women are strong ...
... the men are good-looking, and all the children are above-average."
this is the tagline for Lake Wobegon, from garrison keillor's "Prairie Home Companion," a minnesota radio show. lake wobegon is a fictional town based on keillor's childhood in our lovely, northern-midwestern state. i always liked this tagline because (duh) i think it's true about minnesota, but i suppose most people are over-proud of their home states. certainly, there are ugly men in minnesota. and i've known some decidedly average kids, too.
but i digress.
coming home, to your old home, the one where you grew up and made all of those irreversible childhood and adolescent decisions, where you climbed trees and swam and skated and trick-or-treated, where you smoked pot for the first time and later sneaked out of your house, where you had your first kiss (etc) and where you yelled back at your parents and watched your siblings go from babies to kids to teenagers to young adults ... this is always tough and relaxing at the same time.
at home, with your family, you are always YOU, the one you are, the one you think (HOPE) you've grown away from. people love reminding you of when you ______ (e.g., ran away to hide, crying/sulking, when everyone else was taking a family picture that one trip to michigan). but the trauma of remembering everything you did wrong to yourself, to those who love you more than anyone in the world, is tempered by the relaxation that comes from just being yourself. i guess most people are "themselves" all the time, sure (me? i'm never sure). but your family KNOWS YOU, like hoover's FBI knew civil rights leaders, but more so. i wear less make-up around my family, i get happy when they're happy, angry when they're angry. i don't care if i look fat in something, and i tell my family EVERYTHING.
here's something about my family (mom, dad, step-mom, siblings): they're VERY political. like, borderline crazy-political. conspiracy theories? "they're not conspiracies when they're true, sylvia." my family is anti-establishment, anti-republican, anti-war, anti-hate, anti-chain-store, anti-SUV, anti-HMO, anti-religion (with exceptions for quakers and buddhists), and above all: ANTI-NORMAL.
they're also a very creative bunch, from painting to writing to cool crafts to very unusual takes on home decorating and gardening. (e.g., my step-mom has collected animal skulls for years, and tried to make a mailbox where you opened the deer jaw/mouth to open the box. when this proved logistically impossible, she just attached the whole skull to the top of the mailbox, where it remained for years before breaking off somehow. now she does these fabulous oil paintings almost compulsively, and they're breathtaking).
i'm a little embarrassed that while home i didn't attend the peace rallies with my dad and sister. after a week of running all over the twin cities and having a fabulous time seeing MN sights with a friend visiting from canada, i didn't want to stand outside in the cold (with said tourist friend) waving a peace flag and demanding the end to the war in iraq. i wish i had gone. i wish i wasn't lazy and was more proactive, was more involved in changing the world. maybe i will try harder this year (well, i'm rooting for obama and will do campaign work for him once he gets the nomination -- but this isn't enough).
the gifts from my family this year were the same gifts i get every time i go home: i am humbled. i am moved often, and shaken to tears by this exchange or that sad/beautiful piece of news. i am inspired. i am encouraged. i am loved (and then wish to be more loving in return). so, here's to my family -- all of them, those in minneapolis and duluth and texas and michigan and france and japan and everywhere else: THANK YOU with all my heart and soul and viscera and bones and cells. thank you for being such a dear, unique, wonderful bunch.
this is the tagline for Lake Wobegon, from garrison keillor's "Prairie Home Companion," a minnesota radio show. lake wobegon is a fictional town based on keillor's childhood in our lovely, northern-midwestern state. i always liked this tagline because (duh) i think it's true about minnesota, but i suppose most people are over-proud of their home states. certainly, there are ugly men in minnesota. and i've known some decidedly average kids, too.
but i digress.
coming home, to your old home, the one where you grew up and made all of those irreversible childhood and adolescent decisions, where you climbed trees and swam and skated and trick-or-treated, where you smoked pot for the first time and later sneaked out of your house, where you had your first kiss (etc) and where you yelled back at your parents and watched your siblings go from babies to kids to teenagers to young adults ... this is always tough and relaxing at the same time.
at home, with your family, you are always YOU, the one you are, the one you think (HOPE) you've grown away from. people love reminding you of when you ______ (e.g., ran away to hide, crying/sulking, when everyone else was taking a family picture that one trip to michigan). but the trauma of remembering everything you did wrong to yourself, to those who love you more than anyone in the world, is tempered by the relaxation that comes from just being yourself. i guess most people are "themselves" all the time, sure (me? i'm never sure). but your family KNOWS YOU, like hoover's FBI knew civil rights leaders, but more so. i wear less make-up around my family, i get happy when they're happy, angry when they're angry. i don't care if i look fat in something, and i tell my family EVERYTHING.
here's something about my family (mom, dad, step-mom, siblings): they're VERY political. like, borderline crazy-political. conspiracy theories? "they're not conspiracies when they're true, sylvia." my family is anti-establishment, anti-republican, anti-war, anti-hate, anti-chain-store, anti-SUV, anti-HMO, anti-religion (with exceptions for quakers and buddhists), and above all: ANTI-NORMAL.
they're also a very creative bunch, from painting to writing to cool crafts to very unusual takes on home decorating and gardening. (e.g., my step-mom has collected animal skulls for years, and tried to make a mailbox where you opened the deer jaw/mouth to open the box. when this proved logistically impossible, she just attached the whole skull to the top of the mailbox, where it remained for years before breaking off somehow. now she does these fabulous oil paintings almost compulsively, and they're breathtaking).
i'm a little embarrassed that while home i didn't attend the peace rallies with my dad and sister. after a week of running all over the twin cities and having a fabulous time seeing MN sights with a friend visiting from canada, i didn't want to stand outside in the cold (with said tourist friend) waving a peace flag and demanding the end to the war in iraq. i wish i had gone. i wish i wasn't lazy and was more proactive, was more involved in changing the world. maybe i will try harder this year (well, i'm rooting for obama and will do campaign work for him once he gets the nomination -- but this isn't enough).
the gifts from my family this year were the same gifts i get every time i go home: i am humbled. i am moved often, and shaken to tears by this exchange or that sad/beautiful piece of news. i am inspired. i am encouraged. i am loved (and then wish to be more loving in return). so, here's to my family -- all of them, those in minneapolis and duluth and texas and michigan and france and japan and everywhere else: THANK YOU with all my heart and soul and viscera and bones and cells. thank you for being such a dear, unique, wonderful bunch.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
back south, ahh ...
like many northerners who move south, our blood does indeed thin. after two weeks in minnesota, i was completely exhausted by the snow and cold (and the gray/brown slush of all the roads). most of the time, even indoors, i felt cold. constant coldness, other than when i went to sleep in the room at my parents house with one of those space heaters in it (which i kept at its highest heat level ALL THE TIME, which made me wake up sweating in the night. but i was so glad to be warm i didn't dare turn it down).
here in SC, i have my doors open and it's sunny and warm and absolutely lovely, mmm ...
more on the trip soon, because i know my four dear readers are SO curious what the two weeks in the tundra involved, besides shivering and overeating. mostly i had so much fun relaxing with my dear friends and family ... as well as contemplating my life (a little; it's hard to focus when your blood is regularly cycling through freeze-defrost-freeze-defrost).
and who knew? my dogs love snow! and they grew immune to the cold, playing in my folks' yard longer and rowdier than the two minnesota dogs they were rooming with. go figure.
here in SC, i have my doors open and it's sunny and warm and absolutely lovely, mmm ...
more on the trip soon, because i know my four dear readers are SO curious what the two weeks in the tundra involved, besides shivering and overeating. mostly i had so much fun relaxing with my dear friends and family ... as well as contemplating my life (a little; it's hard to focus when your blood is regularly cycling through freeze-defrost-freeze-defrost).
and who knew? my dogs love snow! and they grew immune to the cold, playing in my folks' yard longer and rowdier than the two minnesota dogs they were rooming with. go figure.
Friday, December 21, 2007
yet another(!) quick post ...
really, this is the last one. it's 5:45 a.m., and the car is all packed minus dogs and two or three smallish bags. couldn't sleep at all last night -- such is the way before a long trip, of course. and naturally, it's pouring rain here; according to the radar, it will be raining for the first, oh ... six hours of the drive. then it looks like a short respite from this massive weather "system" before we'll plunge into some sort of sleet-storm in michigan. yay. it will be fun to take dogs for walks at interstate rest stops in the rain and sleet. it's times like these that i curse myself for never investing in one of those ridiculous umbrella hats.
but i ran across my old friend edward gorey the other day, and thought i'd put up this link to his most well-known, and certainly one of his most macabre works. it's delightfully sinister and the pictures are fantastic. the work i'm talking about (click name to read and see it in its entirety) is the gashlycrumb tinies:
i love it:
"G is for George smothered under a rug.
H is for Hector done in by a thug."
but i ran across my old friend edward gorey the other day, and thought i'd put up this link to his most well-known, and certainly one of his most macabre works. it's delightfully sinister and the pictures are fantastic. the work i'm talking about (click name to read and see it in its entirety) is the gashlycrumb tinies:
i love it:
"G is for George smothered under a rug.
H is for Hector done in by a thug."
Thursday, December 20, 2007
one more quick post
this is a golden retriever NURSING a kitten. and for whatever reason, i find it both totally hilarious/ridiculous and absolutely adorable. the look on the dog's face is such a golden retriever look: "[sigh] is this what it's come to? OK, sure. take the picture then. and, yes, i'll donate blood for your nephew."happy holidays (again)!
it's about flipping time, etc.
well, i called to double-check, and it's official: i am officially graduating with my MA today. (although i'm not walking in today's [now over] ceremony ... i didn't do this for my undergrad, either. i don't really see the point, because it doesn't seem like such a big deal to me. maybe if i get a PhD i'll finally "walk").
my MAPC degree is so difficult to explain, i won't try too much here. it was basically an English program, but called "professional communication," having grown out of rhetoric, technical and business writing, and visual design theory. each student in the program is supposed to pick an "emphasis" area, which somehow i managed to ... avoid. or something. i think i'm the only person to graduate from this program without an emphasis.
on a completely unrelated note, tomorrow i'm leaving for two weeks in the tundra of minnesota, with a quick trip to see other family in michigan first. so chances are good this is my last blog post in a good while ... considering all of, i don't know ... my FIVE readers, i'm sure you five won't miss my venting and whining for two weeks+. maybe i will have some spectacular new, refreshing, happier (less bitter?) thoughts to post in the new year.
happy christmas and hanukkah (yes, i know it's over, sorry) and new year to everyone i love.
there are a lot of you. you make my life brighter.
carpe lucis, all of you.
my MAPC degree is so difficult to explain, i won't try too much here. it was basically an English program, but called "professional communication," having grown out of rhetoric, technical and business writing, and visual design theory. each student in the program is supposed to pick an "emphasis" area, which somehow i managed to ... avoid. or something. i think i'm the only person to graduate from this program without an emphasis.
on a completely unrelated note, tomorrow i'm leaving for two weeks in the tundra of minnesota, with a quick trip to see other family in michigan first. so chances are good this is my last blog post in a good while ... considering all of, i don't know ... my FIVE readers, i'm sure you five won't miss my venting and whining for two weeks+. maybe i will have some spectacular new, refreshing, happier (less bitter?) thoughts to post in the new year.
happy christmas and hanukkah (yes, i know it's over, sorry) and new year to everyone i love.
there are a lot of you. you make my life brighter.
carpe lucis, all of you.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
as if i couldn't have told you:
everyone else in the world (other than me) is pregnant. yes, you heard me. everyone. even men.
the teenage (girls 15-19 -- yes, GIRLS) birthrate in the U.S. has risen for the first time since 1991. [see NYT article here. love the way it says this is fueling "the debate about whether the Bush administration’s abstinence-only sexual education efforts are working," LOL.]
yet another good friend of mine (whom i won't name here) is pregnant. this is in addition to my cousin alison (#1 in may), my friend jennifer (#3 in feb), my friend suzy (#2 in july, exactly one year since her #1 was born), and then all the rest of the teenage girls in the U.S., (and not counting all my other friends/relatives who have already been pregnant and given birth and now have children). christina aguilera is pregnant. nicole ritchie is pregnant. j. lo was denying it, but she's also pregnant. jessica alba is pregnant. and now britney "trainwreck-beyond-all-
comprehension-worse-than-a-trainwreck-actually" spears' sister, jamie lynn spears is pregnant.
she's 16. no doubt she'll be part of the 2008 report that teenage pregnancies are STILL UP for a second year in a row. [well, what can you expect from someone named "jamie lynn" from louisiana? that she would get a PhD in astrophysics (or even finish an associates degree at the local vo-tech)? it's come to this: if you want your daughter to be pregnant before she finishes high school, first: be from the deep south, and second: give her two names, one of which is "jamie." nevermind that you live in L.A. now and she's a character on a nickelodeon TV show.]
sigh. SIGH.
[how many of these young women have wanted to have a baby and a family since they were 20?? do they LOVE pregnancy and babies the way i always have? and what single (handsome, successful, not crazy-religious) 30-something man wants to get involved with a woman like me, who is clearly driven crazy by hormones and aspires to be a full-time mom?]
yep. i thought so.
the teenage (girls 15-19 -- yes, GIRLS) birthrate in the U.S. has risen for the first time since 1991. [see NYT article here. love the way it says this is fueling "the debate about whether the Bush administration’s abstinence-only sexual education efforts are working," LOL.]
yet another good friend of mine (whom i won't name here) is pregnant. this is in addition to my cousin alison (#1 in may), my friend jennifer (#3 in feb), my friend suzy (#2 in july, exactly one year since her #1 was born), and then all the rest of the teenage girls in the U.S., (and not counting all my other friends/relatives who have already been pregnant and given birth and now have children). christina aguilera is pregnant. nicole ritchie is pregnant. j. lo was denying it, but she's also pregnant. jessica alba is pregnant. and now britney "trainwreck-beyond-all-
comprehension-worse-than-a-trainwreck-actually" spears' sister, jamie lynn spears is pregnant.
she's 16. no doubt she'll be part of the 2008 report that teenage pregnancies are STILL UP for a second year in a row. [well, what can you expect from someone named "jamie lynn" from louisiana? that she would get a PhD in astrophysics (or even finish an associates degree at the local vo-tech)? it's come to this: if you want your daughter to be pregnant before she finishes high school, first: be from the deep south, and second: give her two names, one of which is "jamie." nevermind that you live in L.A. now and she's a character on a nickelodeon TV show.]
sigh. SIGH.
[how many of these young women have wanted to have a baby and a family since they were 20?? do they LOVE pregnancy and babies the way i always have? and what single (handsome, successful, not crazy-religious) 30-something man wants to get involved with a woman like me, who is clearly driven crazy by hormones and aspires to be a full-time mom?]
yep. i thought so.
mrah! i love it already.
eagle vs. shark, a new zealand movie featuring none other than jemaine clement, my favorite half (sorry bret!) of the indie-smash-hit duo flight of the conchords. (check out FOC's two most popular/hilarious "music" videos: "most beautiful girl in the room" and "business time" if you haven't heard of FOC and need to be convinced).
anyhoo, eagle vs. shark promises to be equally as hilarious any FOC skit, sort of like napolean dynamite 15 years later and in new zealand (where they say "party" like "pahtee" and "girlfriend" like "gaelfrind"). two of the film's taglines are "falling in love was never so ... awkward," and "there's someone for everyone ... apparently." :)
here's the trailer, which is wonderful in itself. keep your eyes out for the little girl dancing toward the end, and the very last lines, which jemaine says in a phone booth (the best):
anyhoo, eagle vs. shark promises to be equally as hilarious any FOC skit, sort of like napolean dynamite 15 years later and in new zealand (where they say "party" like "pahtee" and "girlfriend" like "gaelfrind"). two of the film's taglines are "falling in love was never so ... awkward," and "there's someone for everyone ... apparently." :)
here's the trailer, which is wonderful in itself. keep your eyes out for the little girl dancing toward the end, and the very last lines, which jemaine says in a phone booth (the best):
Saturday, December 15, 2007
dear family and friends,
first: happy holidays to everyone!!!
wow! it seems like only a few years ago i was stuck in a dead-end relationship with a self-confessed asshole (one in a series!), trudging aimlessly through a totally stupid, pointless (neverending) MA program, and now i'm a stay-at-home mom married to a gorgeous, patient, adoring billionaire with YET ANOTHER baby on the way! this year we taught the twins french during the two months we spent in monaco on the yacht, and those "lean" times when i racked up credit card debt and chain-smoked my evenings away reading escapist fiction while contemplating the least-painful-to-my-family way to commit suicide seem like such a distant memory!
i know, a lot of you thought: sylvia will never get her life together and be an adult, doing grown-up things like paying a mortgage, having a savings account with money IN IT, and taking vacations that don't involve driving 12+ hours and a tent. but boy how time can change things, huh? i know some of you specifically asked my parents and close friends in hushed whispers, "is sylvia emotionally/psychologically retarded? you can tell us. nevermind that our adult children/friends are married with kids and have professional jobs that give bonuses! we just want to help. does sylvia hate men, is that it? does she WANT to be single and childless forever?? does she know SHE'S 30-YEARS-OLD?"
hahaha! i can laugh at all of that now! because i'm pregnant again and life is so perfect! a man i truly loved and adored felt THE SAME WAY BACK and went so far as to propose marriage -- something i used to think only happened TO EVERY SINGLE OTHER GIRLFRIEND OF MINE and not me. of course, because we were so in love and wanted kids so much, it was only a few months before the twins arrived and so for a whole year i was too busy to even send a nice christmas letter -- my apologies! (kids ARE a handful, huh parents??) so i'm making up for it now; better late than never!
it's crazy to think that only a few years ago i was living on less than $30,000 a year with ridiculous debt and two dogs and two cats, in a backwoods-redneck town (in an illiterate, bible-thumping southern state), eating cashews for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and spending every single friday night going to the movies with an ex-boyfriend who i was still in love with, but LOL, right?? it's so funny to think i used to rent a run-down A-frame duplex without a single piece of "new" furniture and a rotting wooden bathroom floor, just a half-mile away from a sewage-treatment facility that made my whole street smell like human feces three nights a week, haha!
to think i once spent a friday afternoon browsing through various sperm banks online, then crying for six hours straight before i begged an ex-BF to try again with me! :) oh, those were the times, weren't they, lol??
ok, well, i better get going now, the cook's not going to supervise herself making a five-course meal in the kitchen, and i think the maid is vacuuming a little too loudly in the east wing! we'll see some of you over the holidays, but i wish to extend an invitation to everyone to come visit us at any of our houses next year! the hamptons are prettiest in the summer, but lately they're so crowded we're pretty much living in the mediterranean on the boat -- winters we hop around a bit (we do love snow in moderation!), but are mostly at our south african vineyard. (i know, who would think i have time between all the kids and the husband to teach english classes and hold HIV+ babies in developing nations?? but somehow i MAKE the time.)
yours with absolute success and happiness dripping from every pore in my body,
:) sylvia
xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxo!
wow! it seems like only a few years ago i was stuck in a dead-end relationship with a self-confessed asshole (one in a series!), trudging aimlessly through a totally stupid, pointless (neverending) MA program, and now i'm a stay-at-home mom married to a gorgeous, patient, adoring billionaire with YET ANOTHER baby on the way! this year we taught the twins french during the two months we spent in monaco on the yacht, and those "lean" times when i racked up credit card debt and chain-smoked my evenings away reading escapist fiction while contemplating the least-painful-to-my-family way to commit suicide seem like such a distant memory!
i know, a lot of you thought: sylvia will never get her life together and be an adult, doing grown-up things like paying a mortgage, having a savings account with money IN IT, and taking vacations that don't involve driving 12+ hours and a tent. but boy how time can change things, huh? i know some of you specifically asked my parents and close friends in hushed whispers, "is sylvia emotionally/psychologically retarded? you can tell us. nevermind that our adult children/friends are married with kids and have professional jobs that give bonuses! we just want to help. does sylvia hate men, is that it? does she WANT to be single and childless forever?? does she know SHE'S 30-YEARS-OLD?"
hahaha! i can laugh at all of that now! because i'm pregnant again and life is so perfect! a man i truly loved and adored felt THE SAME WAY BACK and went so far as to propose marriage -- something i used to think only happened TO EVERY SINGLE OTHER GIRLFRIEND OF MINE and not me. of course, because we were so in love and wanted kids so much, it was only a few months before the twins arrived and so for a whole year i was too busy to even send a nice christmas letter -- my apologies! (kids ARE a handful, huh parents??) so i'm making up for it now; better late than never!
it's crazy to think that only a few years ago i was living on less than $30,000 a year with ridiculous debt and two dogs and two cats, in a backwoods-redneck town (in an illiterate, bible-thumping southern state), eating cashews for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and spending every single friday night going to the movies with an ex-boyfriend who i was still in love with, but LOL, right?? it's so funny to think i used to rent a run-down A-frame duplex without a single piece of "new" furniture and a rotting wooden bathroom floor, just a half-mile away from a sewage-treatment facility that made my whole street smell like human feces three nights a week, haha!
to think i once spent a friday afternoon browsing through various sperm banks online, then crying for six hours straight before i begged an ex-BF to try again with me! :) oh, those were the times, weren't they, lol??
ok, well, i better get going now, the cook's not going to supervise herself making a five-course meal in the kitchen, and i think the maid is vacuuming a little too loudly in the east wing! we'll see some of you over the holidays, but i wish to extend an invitation to everyone to come visit us at any of our houses next year! the hamptons are prettiest in the summer, but lately they're so crowded we're pretty much living in the mediterranean on the boat -- winters we hop around a bit (we do love snow in moderation!), but are mostly at our south african vineyard. (i know, who would think i have time between all the kids and the husband to teach english classes and hold HIV+ babies in developing nations?? but somehow i MAKE the time.)
yours with absolute success and happiness dripping from every pore in my body,
:) sylvia
xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxo!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
one more reason women are cool
as if you didn't know women were fantastically cooler, more evolved, and more wonderful overall than (most) men. [yep, i'm in kind of an anti-man mood ... i could go on and on in this vein ... but won't. for now.]
check out this CNN article, "Evolution keeps pregnant women upright." i guess it never occurred to me that balancing all that extra weight in front had to be nothing short of miraculous, but it's not a miracle: it's evolution.
check out this CNN article, "Evolution keeps pregnant women upright." i guess it never occurred to me that balancing all that extra weight in front had to be nothing short of miraculous, but it's not a miracle: it's evolution.
sweet lulu!
ahhhhck. woke up this morning at 5:30 a.m. to overwhelming odor of EXTREMELY PUNGENT dog urine. as it turns out, it was not a fresh nightmare involving me trapped in vat of dog urine, but was instead the reality of a giant puddle of it soaking into ... yes, the pillow and bedclothes just inches from my face. "oh, lulu," i thought of my beagle [still ON THE BED], "you little shit. just when you've been doing so well making it all night without emptying your bladder ..." [although in the past she has generally done this in a far corner of the upstairs, never ON BED, much less the pillow.]just when i was getting ready to drag her roughly downstairs and outside, i noticed she was heaving. like she was going to puke. on the bed. usually when a dog starts doing the puke motions, i grab said dog and we rush (likewise) outside, but my first thought was, "well, the bed's already covered in pee, why freak her out?"
ah, good instinct there. my poor baby's "puking" was actually mass volumes of clear saliva, and i realized that she was suddenly in the middle of a scary dog seizure, right there on the bed.
beagles, i learned earlier this fall when she had her first big seizure [where we rushed to the vet and i was sobbing and holding her while driving because i thought she was DYING], are very prone to epilepsy. it usually sets in between 1-3 years of age. lulu is 2.
dogs usually lose bladder/bowel (i guess i got lucky with the latter there this morning) control as the seizure starts, and the giant flood of saliva comes before and during the seizure itself. often dogs are blind during seizures and this can last for awhile afterwards (although this doesn't seem to be the case with my lulu).
so, this morning at 5:30 on the foot of the bed, i just petted her and loved her and kissed her warm head and told her over and over she was a "good girl" while she convulsed, her limbs frighteningly rigid, her eyes bugged out, and with the saliva continuing to pour out from her mouth. she slowly stopped shaking, and finally her little body started relaxing. my poor girl.
i took both dogs outside and gave them a biscuit, then gave lulu one of the doggie valium the vet gave me after her previous seizure. when they came inside, both dogs dozed in the crate, and now they're on the sofa [yes, that's the kind of pet owner i am] compulsively licking themselves, one of their favorite activities. [i'm wondering if she didn't spit out the valium or something; shouldn't she be SOUND ASLEEP instead of chewing her own butt?]
[big sigh.] lulu's back to normal and will cuddle up with booker here soon. the bedclothes have finished their wash cycle. i have grading. and then traffic court later this afternoon [ahem.] just another day in the life ...
p.s. incidentally, the beagle in the pic is not lulu, but looks STARTLINGLY similar. i need to get my own photos on the computer, i know ... and aside from the seizures, the slow potty training, her skittishness around strangers, etc., she is such a snuggly, wonderful dog -- sweet as a dog can be. she snores like an old man. she actually hugs me back.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
damn them all
that's my attitude this morning toward the fraternities and sororities of the universe.a freshman (not one of mine, holyshitthankgod, not one of mine) here died this weekend of alcohol poisoning at his off-campus frat house. his name was ben sprague. (click here for the story).
his blood alcohol level was .379, apparently well over the .35-coma level. his "friends" found him on a futon in the frat's living room sunday morning. fucking stupid kids.
i listened to two separate persuasive speeches in the last few weeks from young sorority girls on the dangers of alcohol in college, and now this senseless death. maybe my southern good-ol-boy school will finally wise up about politely looking the other way as the student body carouses drunkenly through tailgating and football games, "rush" week, and spring break booze cruises. perhaps parents who silently condone binge drinking as a part of the college tradition will snap out of it.
drinking at obscene levels aside, ben was the seventh student to die this fall. yes, the SEVENTH. it has been a bad year all around. it's like someone put some "Use Poor Judgment" elixir in the town's water supply or something. god knows i've made some bad decisions this fall, too.
but at least my family isn't going to have the worst christmas of their lives in a few weeks. and at least all of my students will make it home safely for the holidays. where they will be held by their parents fiercely and with a wild kind of love to (hopefully) sustain them through a brighter spring term, where we all make better decisions.
Friday, December 7, 2007
ahhhhhhh ....
done. done. and done.
i just taught my last class of the semester, hallelujah.
as for the grading of the zillions of items just completed or re-written within the last week:
not done. not close. and jesus i just want to sleep.
poor students, they still have finals for a week. my class itself doesn't have a final, so i get to have a whole week of grading and doing final grades, and also grading, and emails (damn the emails!), and then some more grading. but at least no classes to teach, thank christ.
i'd like to say something beautiful and moving here about how teaching this semester has been ... but i'm too tired right now. maybe another day. i will say how lucky i am to have the best job in the world ... i love it, and i love my students so much. how many people feel that way about their jobs? not many, i know. i didn't love my last job in marketing by any stretch of the imagination.
anyhoo, i'm going to celebrate now by enjoying a (hopefully) peaceful nap with the dogs upstairs in bed. maybe just a couple sudoku ...
i just taught my last class of the semester, hallelujah.
as for the grading of the zillions of items just completed or re-written within the last week:
not done. not close. and jesus i just want to sleep.
poor students, they still have finals for a week. my class itself doesn't have a final, so i get to have a whole week of grading and doing final grades, and also grading, and emails (damn the emails!), and then some more grading. but at least no classes to teach, thank christ.
i'd like to say something beautiful and moving here about how teaching this semester has been ... but i'm too tired right now. maybe another day. i will say how lucky i am to have the best job in the world ... i love it, and i love my students so much. how many people feel that way about their jobs? not many, i know. i didn't love my last job in marketing by any stretch of the imagination.
anyhoo, i'm going to celebrate now by enjoying a (hopefully) peaceful nap with the dogs upstairs in bed. maybe just a couple sudoku ...
Thursday, December 6, 2007
questions i have no answers to
a colleague of mine is trying to put together a book of "women's journeys," and has asked if i'd be willing to answer some questions for her. she added that when it's published and she's on ellen or oprah, she'll give me credit. i suspect her book might be light years away from both publication and a subsequent press tour, but i agreed to answer her questions.
so, here they are, staring at me (for over a week now), and what can i say? everything i think of sounds so goddamn trite, i can't stand it. why aren't there some easy ones, like "what are your dogs doing RIGHT NOW?" (playing tug of war with a dirty towel in the yard). or: "why did you and your last boyfriend break-up?" (nevermind).
anyway, here they are. someone please tell me what to say.
so, here they are, staring at me (for over a week now), and what can i say? everything i think of sounds so goddamn trite, i can't stand it. why aren't there some easy ones, like "what are your dogs doing RIGHT NOW?" (playing tug of war with a dirty towel in the yard). or: "why did you and your last boyfriend break-up?" (nevermind).
anyway, here they are. someone please tell me what to say.
1. Please describe one of the most important choices that you have made in your life.
2. What tools do you use to guide you in your decision-making process?
3. If a young woman came to you and asked advice for her future, what would you tell her?
4. What person has made a significant difference in your life and why?
5. In what ways would you like to influence others?
homesick ...
i'm super excited about the movie juno. it looks like this year's little miss sunshine, but with a glorious, snowy, minnesota twist (and michael cera. i am in love with him). already this film is getting stellar reviews, and hopefully will actually come to theaters in my backwoods vicinity.
and, on top of what appears to be a charming movie, there's the juno soundtrack, which, if the trailer is anything to go off of, features lots of charming acoustic-indie guitar songs, as well as some retro favorites (see the link for a complete list).
last weekend minnesota had a little blizzard. my folks there, and many others, hunkered down with a fire in the fireplace, and later powered up the snowblowers for the first time this season. i just stared out my south carolina patio doors at the dead trees and dead grass and became profoundly nostalgic for snow. and home.
then this morning i found this at youtube. a semi-famous moldy peaches song (many of juno's songs are originals by kimya dawson, from MP). it's someone's "home video," but it's beautiful and hit me in all the right places today:
"anyone else but you"
and, on top of what appears to be a charming movie, there's the juno soundtrack, which, if the trailer is anything to go off of, features lots of charming acoustic-indie guitar songs, as well as some retro favorites (see the link for a complete list).
last weekend minnesota had a little blizzard. my folks there, and many others, hunkered down with a fire in the fireplace, and later powered up the snowblowers for the first time this season. i just stared out my south carolina patio doors at the dead trees and dead grass and became profoundly nostalgic for snow. and home.
then this morning i found this at youtube. a semi-famous moldy peaches song (many of juno's songs are originals by kimya dawson, from MP). it's someone's "home video," but it's beautiful and hit me in all the right places today:
"anyone else but you"
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
meet sharon
my new roommate. sharon lives in the bathroom. she has been living there for awhile now, sometimes in the tub, sometimes on the floor around the toilet. sometime a little too close to my hairdryer for comfort (down sharon! your hair looks fab! get away from my damn hairdryer, please. i mean it. please.).this was one of THOSE mornings, where hormones must be up to no good (this rachael yamagata song at youtube, replete with bizarre/stupid video montage, made me cry and cry), and coupled with general fatigue i was very tempted by to do the whole fetal ball thing in the shower. usually this shower position is accompanied by a raging alcohol-induced headache, but since i haven't been (praise jesus. i am too old) hungover in forever, the sitting-down-in-the-shower generally means i REALLY do not want to face the day, the masses, the email reply to yet another girlfriend who's having baby number 2 next summer, the whole living-life-normally-deal.
but then sharon was there! creeping away from me (sharon, i swear, i'm not washing you down the drain, why are you running from the shampoo? don't be like that, please.) and reminding me: "hey, don't start your day sitting in your bathtub with the shower water getting cold! be a trooper! i might bite your goddamn face [sharon's kind of vulgar] if you curl up down here!" and then, "see, look, i'm heading over to the hairdryer ... don't sit down or you're going to have to fight me for it when you get out."
thanks, shar. i made it. another day dawns.
Monday, December 3, 2007
a banana republic manager in an alternate universe
[four new men have recently come forward to admit sexual "encounters" with senator larry craig (R-ID).]
dear senator larry craig,
oh, larry. i really do feel for you. and your wife. (because she has totally known "all along," even if you do manage to [somehow] have sex from time to time).
if you hadn't been raised somehow to equate homosexuality with evil, and if you hadn't been too ashamed of your feelings for men, and if you hadn't hidden those "shameful" urges from everyone and then went on to become active in a political party that talks about everything in absolutes (heaven and hell, right and wrong, you're with us or against us) ... you might've really had an interesting, fun, relaxed, entertaining life just being a gay man.
think of how liberating, larry! you could have sex with men ALL the time and the only people who would give a shit would be closed-minded assholes that you don't care about anyway! you could own DVDs of every musical ever made and not care what anyone thinks. you could spend a whole weekend in europe, just shoe shopping, damn them all. you could've been an awesome gay senator! you could enjoy wearing scarves and throwing fabulous parties with tasteful wine and desserts. you could belt out britney and cristina at karaoke bars and LOVE IT.
or you could've done anything else, all stereotypes aside. (yes, you could still be in the NRA, seriously).
but instead, you chose your path as republican senator, as a straight man. and because you can only run so hard for so long from who you really are in your heart, you have had lapses. and now everyone knows about them, not just the minneapolis airport one.
but larry, there's still hope! that's right! it's never too late to admit the truth. and it's not like you've committed a crime (men's room incident aside) by being gay for christ's sake. think of the new life you could enjoy when you're free to be who you are! there's so much living left to do. to quote one of my favorite starbucks "the way i see it" cups (#43), by writer armistead maupin:
My only regret about being gay is that I repressed it for so long. I surrendered my youth to the people I feared when I could have been out there loving someone. Don't make that mistake yourself. Life's too damn short.
yours sincerely,
:) sylvia
dear senator larry craig,
oh, larry. i really do feel for you. and your wife. (because she has totally known "all along," even if you do manage to [somehow] have sex from time to time).
if you hadn't been raised somehow to equate homosexuality with evil, and if you hadn't been too ashamed of your feelings for men, and if you hadn't hidden those "shameful" urges from everyone and then went on to become active in a political party that talks about everything in absolutes (heaven and hell, right and wrong, you're with us or against us) ... you might've really had an interesting, fun, relaxed, entertaining life just being a gay man.
think of how liberating, larry! you could have sex with men ALL the time and the only people who would give a shit would be closed-minded assholes that you don't care about anyway! you could own DVDs of every musical ever made and not care what anyone thinks. you could spend a whole weekend in europe, just shoe shopping, damn them all. you could've been an awesome gay senator! you could enjoy wearing scarves and throwing fabulous parties with tasteful wine and desserts. you could belt out britney and cristina at karaoke bars and LOVE IT.
or you could've done anything else, all stereotypes aside. (yes, you could still be in the NRA, seriously).
but instead, you chose your path as republican senator, as a straight man. and because you can only run so hard for so long from who you really are in your heart, you have had lapses. and now everyone knows about them, not just the minneapolis airport one.
but larry, there's still hope! that's right! it's never too late to admit the truth. and it's not like you've committed a crime (men's room incident aside) by being gay for christ's sake. think of the new life you could enjoy when you're free to be who you are! there's so much living left to do. to quote one of my favorite starbucks "the way i see it" cups (#43), by writer armistead maupin:
My only regret about being gay is that I repressed it for so long. I surrendered my youth to the people I feared when I could have been out there loving someone. Don't make that mistake yourself. Life's too damn short.
yours sincerely,
:) sylvia
Sunday, December 2, 2007
speaking of horses ... water-horses, i mean
this is too darling not to share. thanks to bridget for the link. :)
previously, i always wanted my own panda family, but now i think i might have to include a hippo to my future menagerie. i think if my hippo was anything like jessica, she would get along splendidly with the two cats, two dogs, the small polar bear (i want one of these, too), and the panda family.
previously, i always wanted my own panda family, but now i think i might have to include a hippo to my future menagerie. i think if my hippo was anything like jessica, she would get along splendidly with the two cats, two dogs, the small polar bear (i want one of these, too), and the panda family.
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