Friday, April 30, 2004
Do you want to talk to Granny again?
I got to talk to my niece Kelsi for a long, long time on the phone last night. We discussed the finer points of multiplication tables, SpongeBob, Ello, how to avoid a sunburn, and why summer rocks. When I tried to get her to talk to me about some tough issues going on in her young life right now, she balked. How do you feel about that? I asked her. She responded with "Do you want to talk to Granny again?" And passed the phone. It seems that even kids can turn on the denial mechanism and know when conversations are turning tough. That moment was so poignant for me that it made me want to cry. That one question from her said more to me about the way she was feeling than any open, heartfelt explanation could have.
I got to talk to my niece Kelsi for a long, long time on the phone last night. We discussed the finer points of multiplication tables, SpongeBob, Ello, how to avoid a sunburn, and why summer rocks. When I tried to get her to talk to me about some tough issues going on in her young life right now, she balked. How do you feel about that? I asked her. She responded with "Do you want to talk to Granny again?" And passed the phone. It seems that even kids can turn on the denial mechanism and know when conversations are turning tough. That moment was so poignant for me that it made me want to cry. That one question from her said more to me about the way she was feeling than any open, heartfelt explanation could have.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Lasts
Jason and I were commenting that these past few weeks have been filled with lots of "lasts." Last faculty meeting at UNC today. Last class taught at UNC Friday. Jason's last graduate class (for a while, at least) yesterday. Jason's last day working reference at Davis will be Thursday. My last final exam given at UNC is tomorrow. And on and on and on. It is sort of making me sad, going through all these lasts all at once.
I packed my first box from the office today. Books, mostly. Some chalk, a few props for teaching (like a Magic 8 ball in Spanish).
I have pictures of my nieces and nephews on my office walls. When I started working at UNC, my niece Kelsi was 1. Now she is 7 and doesn't even look like the same little girl staring at me from the photo. It's unbelievable.
Jason and I were commenting that these past few weeks have been filled with lots of "lasts." Last faculty meeting at UNC today. Last class taught at UNC Friday. Jason's last graduate class (for a while, at least) yesterday. Jason's last day working reference at Davis will be Thursday. My last final exam given at UNC is tomorrow. And on and on and on. It is sort of making me sad, going through all these lasts all at once.
I packed my first box from the office today. Books, mostly. Some chalk, a few props for teaching (like a Magic 8 ball in Spanish).
I have pictures of my nieces and nephews on my office walls. When I started working at UNC, my niece Kelsi was 1. Now she is 7 and doesn't even look like the same little girl staring at me from the photo. It's unbelievable.
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
The casita is under contract
Less than 48 hours on the market, and the casita is already under contract. Our real estate agent either rocks, we did a great job cleaning this place up, or (what I really suspect) this is just a great place in a fantastic location. You can walk to Weaver Street! Those who live here know how cool that is! To make the deal even sweeter, we got full asking price and a closing date that really suits our needs (July 23). It gives us plenty of time to find a place in TN.
While the house selling side of things went extraordinarily well this weekend, the house hunting side didn't. We saw several possibilities, but none of them was perfect. One place had a view of the mountains to seriously kill for, use of a heated pool (overlooking beside said view), and about 50 acres of land to roam around on. Oh, and did I mention that it is beside a natural bridge? And that the house is full of windows and balconies so you can see that gorgeous view at every turn? The only problem? The kitchen. It doesn't exist, really. A tiny stove like you see in crappy efficiency apartments, no counter space (at all), no cabinet space. The house was really made to be a weekend getaway, not a long term rental. The bathrooms are institutional: real tile that has gotten horribly grimy in 16 years of use. The carpet is original, 16 years old, with lots of major problems. What I'm saying is: outside, it is a dream home. Inside, it is a dump.
Oh well. Another possibility has the strange distinction of being TOO BIG. This place has 3 bedrooms AND 2 studies, as well as a real dining room, a sunroom, a huge living room and a gi-normous kitchen. This isn't a problem except for the fact that we have no furniture to fill it, and no money to buy the furniture to fill it. Well, to be honest, the real problem is that they want someone to move in right away, and we really can't. This house would be $2000 or more to rent in Chapel Hill. It is a steal in Sewanee at $900.
Less than 48 hours on the market, and the casita is already under contract. Our real estate agent either rocks, we did a great job cleaning this place up, or (what I really suspect) this is just a great place in a fantastic location. You can walk to Weaver Street! Those who live here know how cool that is! To make the deal even sweeter, we got full asking price and a closing date that really suits our needs (July 23). It gives us plenty of time to find a place in TN.
While the house selling side of things went extraordinarily well this weekend, the house hunting side didn't. We saw several possibilities, but none of them was perfect. One place had a view of the mountains to seriously kill for, use of a heated pool (overlooking beside said view), and about 50 acres of land to roam around on. Oh, and did I mention that it is beside a natural bridge? And that the house is full of windows and balconies so you can see that gorgeous view at every turn? The only problem? The kitchen. It doesn't exist, really. A tiny stove like you see in crappy efficiency apartments, no counter space (at all), no cabinet space. The house was really made to be a weekend getaway, not a long term rental. The bathrooms are institutional: real tile that has gotten horribly grimy in 16 years of use. The carpet is original, 16 years old, with lots of major problems. What I'm saying is: outside, it is a dream home. Inside, it is a dump.
Oh well. Another possibility has the strange distinction of being TOO BIG. This place has 3 bedrooms AND 2 studies, as well as a real dining room, a sunroom, a huge living room and a gi-normous kitchen. This isn't a problem except for the fact that we have no furniture to fill it, and no money to buy the furniture to fill it. Well, to be honest, the real problem is that they want someone to move in right away, and we really can't. This house would be $2000 or more to rent in Chapel Hill. It is a steal in Sewanee at $900.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Flavors of Sewanee
Number of real estate agents in Sewanee that have a website: ZERO. No kidding.
Number of times a call to a real estate agent dropped because she was on a cell phone: 4. "Cell phones don't work too good up here on the mountain," she chuckled.
Directions given to me by a different real estate agent: "Get on University Avenue. Drive until you see the red Tahoe. That'll be my office." Yes, I'm driving until I see a particular type of truck. That's how small this place is. THE red Tahoe = her. By the way, University Avenue is really the only real "street." There is one stop light.
What I've learned: Sewanee = "The Mountain." Cowan (a nearby village) = "The Valley." I was told by one of the agents, "I love living in The Valley. Driving up The Mountain every day is such a spiritual experience."
We lost one possible rental because it was rented out (today) to someone described as "a real good friend of the (homeowner's) family." Another possible rental was described to me as belonging to "one of the oldest Sewanee families. This was the grandmother's house."
Please wish us luck. We're going to look for housing this weekend, but the outlook is a bit bleak. Seems like places are scarce because turnover is rare and the place is really, really small. Plus, it helps to know somebody, and we really don't. We're definitely outsiders trying to climb over the pseudo-sacred walls of this place.
Number of real estate agents in Sewanee that have a website: ZERO. No kidding.
Number of times a call to a real estate agent dropped because she was on a cell phone: 4. "Cell phones don't work too good up here on the mountain," she chuckled.
Directions given to me by a different real estate agent: "Get on University Avenue. Drive until you see the red Tahoe. That'll be my office." Yes, I'm driving until I see a particular type of truck. That's how small this place is. THE red Tahoe = her. By the way, University Avenue is really the only real "street." There is one stop light.
What I've learned: Sewanee = "The Mountain." Cowan (a nearby village) = "The Valley." I was told by one of the agents, "I love living in The Valley. Driving up The Mountain every day is such a spiritual experience."
We lost one possible rental because it was rented out (today) to someone described as "a real good friend of the (homeowner's) family." Another possible rental was described to me as belonging to "one of the oldest Sewanee families. This was the grandmother's house."
Please wish us luck. We're going to look for housing this weekend, but the outlook is a bit bleak. Seems like places are scarce because turnover is rare and the place is really, really small. Plus, it helps to know somebody, and we really don't. We're definitely outsiders trying to climb over the pseudo-sacred walls of this place.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Numb
There's this person in my life. She could be me, she could have been me. I could have been her. But I turned out very, very differently. Even though as kids we walked many of the same paths, saw the same sights, felt the same wind, earth, rain. Me? Going places, doing things, learning, loving, living well. She? Constantly in trouble. Mistake after mistake after mistake. Never learns anything, never feels bad for what she does, never changes. She has screwed up so many times that the most I can do anymore is shake my head in dismay. Dismay isn't something I feel very often, but when it comes to her, the word is absolutely perfect. Dismay. What is worse, what I cannot forgive, is that all of her little screw ups affect many other people. It is like a game of dominoes. She is the one who starts the whole line tumbling. Until it comes to me. That's where the tumbling stops. Me, the one who is too sensitive about all things, who can't stop thinking at night, and who internalizes every pain that I hear of, I become stone cold when it comes to her games of dominoes. I have become numb to her, I guess. It is my way of coping.
There's this person in my life. She could be me, she could have been me. I could have been her. But I turned out very, very differently. Even though as kids we walked many of the same paths, saw the same sights, felt the same wind, earth, rain. Me? Going places, doing things, learning, loving, living well. She? Constantly in trouble. Mistake after mistake after mistake. Never learns anything, never feels bad for what she does, never changes. She has screwed up so many times that the most I can do anymore is shake my head in dismay. Dismay isn't something I feel very often, but when it comes to her, the word is absolutely perfect. Dismay. What is worse, what I cannot forgive, is that all of her little screw ups affect many other people. It is like a game of dominoes. She is the one who starts the whole line tumbling. Until it comes to me. That's where the tumbling stops. Me, the one who is too sensitive about all things, who can't stop thinking at night, and who internalizes every pain that I hear of, I become stone cold when it comes to her games of dominoes. I have become numb to her, I guess. It is my way of coping.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
My head is under water
That's what it feels like, anyway. I'm not sure if it's a cold or allergies or some wicked combination of both, but I have sinus pain, stopped up nose, scratchy throat, the works. It's soooo fun to be sick when it's 85 degrees outside. Let me tell you.
Some things that Jason and I found recently, in the cleaning and packing frenzy: Jason's high school grade report, drawings made by my 7-year-old niece Kelsi when she was 5, my AP English journal from high school, poems written by a friend of ours about ten years ago, bills that we paid when we lived in Maryland, thank you cards from a wedding gift sent three years ago. It's crazy to look at those things and have no idea where the time has gone.
That's what it feels like, anyway. I'm not sure if it's a cold or allergies or some wicked combination of both, but I have sinus pain, stopped up nose, scratchy throat, the works. It's soooo fun to be sick when it's 85 degrees outside. Let me tell you.
Some things that Jason and I found recently, in the cleaning and packing frenzy: Jason's high school grade report, drawings made by my 7-year-old niece Kelsi when she was 5, my AP English journal from high school, poems written by a friend of ours about ten years ago, bills that we paid when we lived in Maryland, thank you cards from a wedding gift sent three years ago. It's crazy to look at those things and have no idea where the time has gone.
Sunday, April 18, 2004
Last minute
Last night, we had a last minute urge to get some calzones and garlic pretzels at Mellow Mushroom and, surprisingly, we were able to round up some folks to accompany us. I had been feeling a bit down, and it was enough just to see friendly faces to make me feel like a new person. Jason and I tossed 3 full boxes of paper into city recycling bins yesterday, and nearly one box was full of dissertation drafts in various stages. I was a strange combination of relieved and destroyed. It was hard to get rid of them, partially because those mounds of paper represented so many years of my life and so much labor. At the same time, it felt good to purge them.
Last night, we had a last minute urge to get some calzones and garlic pretzels at Mellow Mushroom and, surprisingly, we were able to round up some folks to accompany us. I had been feeling a bit down, and it was enough just to see friendly faces to make me feel like a new person. Jason and I tossed 3 full boxes of paper into city recycling bins yesterday, and nearly one box was full of dissertation drafts in various stages. I was a strange combination of relieved and destroyed. It was hard to get rid of them, partially because those mounds of paper represented so many years of my life and so much labor. At the same time, it felt good to purge them.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
6 days left
Only six teaching days left at UNC. I cannot believe it. I feel completely wrong about it, almost queasy. This has been my home for six years. Six years later and it's down to six days. Dey Hall is a part of my psyche now. How will I replace it with another building in another state and another town with other students and other colleagues? Other textbooks? A different computer? A different view out the window? Bridgette today remarked that while it is a wonderful and exciting time in our lives, it is also a very scary one. We'll both be starting tenure track jobs at different schools and leaving the Carolina nest with happiness and sadness all mixed up together in one confusing mass. Bridgette is going to State University of West Georgia, but the good news is that Chattanooga and Atlanta aren't very far from each other.
As for me, headed toward Sewanee, today I got an email telling me I could have a work-study student. To do what?? The very idea seemed so foreign to me, I started daydreaming about tasks that I could have him/her do: photocopy things? Retrieve things from the library? File things? Deliver paperwork to offices across campus? I can't even fathom this luxury. These are the mundane tasks I've done for myself, by myself, and typically with my own funds, for six years now. I've shared an office with up to 10 people, and now I'm going to have my own office and someone to help me get stuff done. All these little things keep cropping up to remind me just how different my new world will be.
Only six teaching days left at UNC. I cannot believe it. I feel completely wrong about it, almost queasy. This has been my home for six years. Six years later and it's down to six days. Dey Hall is a part of my psyche now. How will I replace it with another building in another state and another town with other students and other colleagues? Other textbooks? A different computer? A different view out the window? Bridgette today remarked that while it is a wonderful and exciting time in our lives, it is also a very scary one. We'll both be starting tenure track jobs at different schools and leaving the Carolina nest with happiness and sadness all mixed up together in one confusing mass. Bridgette is going to State University of West Georgia, but the good news is that Chattanooga and Atlanta aren't very far from each other.
As for me, headed toward Sewanee, today I got an email telling me I could have a work-study student. To do what?? The very idea seemed so foreign to me, I started daydreaming about tasks that I could have him/her do: photocopy things? Retrieve things from the library? File things? Deliver paperwork to offices across campus? I can't even fathom this luxury. These are the mundane tasks I've done for myself, by myself, and typically with my own funds, for six years now. I've shared an office with up to 10 people, and now I'm going to have my own office and someone to help me get stuff done. All these little things keep cropping up to remind me just how different my new world will be.
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
Feeling better but overwhelmed
No dizzy episodes today, so hopefully I'm in the clear. But I'm a bit overwhelmed with what has to get done in the next few days. The house should go on the market officially next week. But before then, we have to get repairs done, the carpet professionally cleaned, everything unnecessary packed up, and give the whole house a thorough Spring cleaning. That's my weekend. It's strange to not know where we're going to be this summer. If the house sells quickly, we could have a month or so with no permanent address. We joke about living the vagabond life, spending time with different friends across the country. A week here, a few days there. It might turn into a month or so at the in-laws', but fortunately I really love them. It would be weird living out of a suitcase for that long, and a bit awkward not having "our" space anymore. Every night I close my eyes and a billion things rush past. I'm starting to get nervous about the big question marks that lie ahead of us.
No dizzy episodes today, so hopefully I'm in the clear. But I'm a bit overwhelmed with what has to get done in the next few days. The house should go on the market officially next week. But before then, we have to get repairs done, the carpet professionally cleaned, everything unnecessary packed up, and give the whole house a thorough Spring cleaning. That's my weekend. It's strange to not know where we're going to be this summer. If the house sells quickly, we could have a month or so with no permanent address. We joke about living the vagabond life, spending time with different friends across the country. A week here, a few days there. It might turn into a month or so at the in-laws', but fortunately I really love them. It would be weird living out of a suitcase for that long, and a bit awkward not having "our" space anymore. Every night I close my eyes and a billion things rush past. I'm starting to get nervous about the big question marks that lie ahead of us.
Monday, April 12, 2004
I'm so dizzy...my head is spinnin'
I'm thinking of starting a new blog called "BodyBlog." I keep obsessing with food, my body, aging, etc. etc. etc. I know you're sick of it. But here's the scoop. I've been getting weird dizzy spells. I'm not kidding!! I always fear that my symptoms aren't real whenever I feel something, because my grandmother is a hypochondriac. I'm always afraid I will turn into one, so I have to check and make sure that what I'm feeling is not a figment of my imagination. Are you sure you're not just tired? I ask myself. Are you perhaps in the throes of an allergy attack? And so forth. I can't find any explanation that suits me, but lately I get into these moments where my head is spinning. Not enough to black out or anything, just a weird sort of vertiginous feeling. I usually sit down or, if I can, lie down, and it goes away. I thought ear infection, but I never got an ear ache of any sort. I'm going to give it a few more days, see if I can track when it happens and what else is going on, and then go to the doctor later this week. Then again, if it goes away, then I'm going to just ignore it and chalk it up to funkiness. I think I'll go home and take a nap and try to enjoy the rain.
I'm thinking of starting a new blog called "BodyBlog." I keep obsessing with food, my body, aging, etc. etc. etc. I know you're sick of it. But here's the scoop. I've been getting weird dizzy spells. I'm not kidding!! I always fear that my symptoms aren't real whenever I feel something, because my grandmother is a hypochondriac. I'm always afraid I will turn into one, so I have to check and make sure that what I'm feeling is not a figment of my imagination. Are you sure you're not just tired? I ask myself. Are you perhaps in the throes of an allergy attack? And so forth. I can't find any explanation that suits me, but lately I get into these moments where my head is spinning. Not enough to black out or anything, just a weird sort of vertiginous feeling. I usually sit down or, if I can, lie down, and it goes away. I thought ear infection, but I never got an ear ache of any sort. I'm going to give it a few more days, see if I can track when it happens and what else is going on, and then go to the doctor later this week. Then again, if it goes away, then I'm going to just ignore it and chalk it up to funkiness. I think I'll go home and take a nap and try to enjoy the rain.
Saturday, April 10, 2004
In Kentucky
J and I are in KY to help his mom celebrate her birthday (photos to follow soon). We surprised her with a visit, which is a pretty cheap gift, but the best one we could have thought of. Yesterday I had the burger of a lifetime at the Smoky Valley Truck Stop. Amazing, amazing food. If you've never had the cultural and gustatory experience of eating in a truck stop, you should do it. Some of the best homemade comfort food you'll ever eat anywhere. They have these things called "potato skins" that are, in fact, the skins peeled off the potatoes that they've mashed and fried for other dishes, deep fried 'til cripsy, and covered with cheese. You have no idea how good these are.
Today I got a driving tour of Grahn, KY, where Jason's mom grew up. The countryside is incredibly beautiful, winding and hilly with creeks cutting through, clifsides and mountains towering above you. Some of the curviest roads I've ever ridden on. We put some flowers on Jason's grandmother's grave, and I was told some amazing stories about distant relatives, neighbors, and Jason's mom...stories that I'm so tempted to put down into words and preserve forever. I haven't figured out how to go about doing this yet, but I want to write our family's stories and capture them before they disappear.
J and I are in KY to help his mom celebrate her birthday (photos to follow soon). We surprised her with a visit, which is a pretty cheap gift, but the best one we could have thought of. Yesterday I had the burger of a lifetime at the Smoky Valley Truck Stop. Amazing, amazing food. If you've never had the cultural and gustatory experience of eating in a truck stop, you should do it. Some of the best homemade comfort food you'll ever eat anywhere. They have these things called "potato skins" that are, in fact, the skins peeled off the potatoes that they've mashed and fried for other dishes, deep fried 'til cripsy, and covered with cheese. You have no idea how good these are.
Today I got a driving tour of Grahn, KY, where Jason's mom grew up. The countryside is incredibly beautiful, winding and hilly with creeks cutting through, clifsides and mountains towering above you. Some of the curviest roads I've ever ridden on. We put some flowers on Jason's grandmother's grave, and I was told some amazing stories about distant relatives, neighbors, and Jason's mom...stories that I'm so tempted to put down into words and preserve forever. I haven't figured out how to go about doing this yet, but I want to write our family's stories and capture them before they disappear.
Thursday, April 08, 2004
Someone else is famous, too
My life is full of gifted, talented, intelligent people, which is how I like it. I have this other friend named Todd who is incredible. He's a fantastic photographer. As soon as his website is up and running, I'll post it here for you to see. He takes these amazingly heartfelt photos of children in Mayan pueblos in Mexico and Guatemala. I got an email yesterday that he has won 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place in a photography contest he entered recently. How do you do that? A clean sweep! Amazing.
Some of his work is being exhibited right now in a gallery in Merida, Mexico. Did I mention that he wants to do a book? And I'm honored to say he's asked me to help with the writing. His work is incredible, and I'm proud to even know him. It's going to be an exciting project, and I can't wait to get started on it.
My life is full of gifted, talented, intelligent people, which is how I like it. I have this other friend named Todd who is incredible. He's a fantastic photographer. As soon as his website is up and running, I'll post it here for you to see. He takes these amazingly heartfelt photos of children in Mayan pueblos in Mexico and Guatemala. I got an email yesterday that he has won 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place in a photography contest he entered recently. How do you do that? A clean sweep! Amazing.
Some of his work is being exhibited right now in a gallery in Merida, Mexico. Did I mention that he wants to do a book? And I'm honored to say he's asked me to help with the writing. His work is incredible, and I'm proud to even know him. It's going to be an exciting project, and I can't wait to get started on it.
Jason is famous
Famous or infamous? Either way, making waves and making a name for himself...I'm so proud!
I'll make sure he remembers all of us little people.
Will all this press make someone in TN, preferably near Sewanee, take notice and think about hiring him?? Please??? Are any of you out there reading this? Ah well. Maybe he can just stay home, write, and keep getting (in)famous. Somehow, I don't think he'd mind that.
Famous or infamous? Either way, making waves and making a name for himself...I'm so proud!
I'll make sure he remembers all of us little people.
Will all this press make someone in TN, preferably near Sewanee, take notice and think about hiring him?? Please??? Are any of you out there reading this? Ah well. Maybe he can just stay home, write, and keep getting (in)famous. Somehow, I don't think he'd mind that.
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
My body's rebellion
As I get older, a few interesting things have started happening:
The normal stuff:
1) Wrinkles. I don't mind these. I think they give my face depth and dimension. Finally, I don't look 12. I never get carded anymore. For someone who used to get carded at the age of 24, this is a relief. I don't buy wrinkle cream and don't plan to. Who cares?? And botox??? Not on your life would I willfully inject myself with a toxin.
2) A few gray hairs. I don't mind them, either. They're kind of like little reminders of my newfound wisdom and experience. (HA!). Seriously, though, my mom had the coolest, most wicked-looking streak of all gray hair by the time she was about 21. Because of that, I guess, gray hair has never scared me or worried me. I kind of like it.
The weird stuff:
3) My face breaks out more now than when I was going through puberty. A lot more. I had only a handful of pimples the whole time I was in high school. Now, every day my face looks like it exploded on itself.
4) I have new, unidentified allergies. I used to be allergic to absolutely, positively nothing. I could roll naked in poison ivy and not get a rash. I could rub my face with a pillow covered in dust and cat hair and no reaction. Medicines, foods, weeds, pollen, flowers be damned. I was invincible. These days, pushing 30, it's a different story. I get inexplicable headaches. I take an aspirin, only to realize about 10 minutes later that on top of the headache, I can't breathe and my eyes are burning. Damn. Should have taken the red pill, not the white one. How about this green gel thingie? Nothing seems to work. I'm too poor to pay for the good stuff.
5) Psoriasis. My secret affliction. I had it very bad when I was about 13, then again at 18, and then it went away completely. This year, pushing 30, it has flared up again. Read this if you want to get a laugh out of the indignity that is psoriasis.
6) Sensitive stomach. Gone are the days of consuming platefuls of cheese, cheese pizza, followed by cream cheese deserts, milk, and ice cream. Not lactose intolerant quite yet, I fear that I may be getting there.
I'll be 30 in July. I don't fear this age. I embrace it. But I'm annoyed at the fact that my body keeps making fun of me.
As I get older, a few interesting things have started happening:
The normal stuff:
1) Wrinkles. I don't mind these. I think they give my face depth and dimension. Finally, I don't look 12. I never get carded anymore. For someone who used to get carded at the age of 24, this is a relief. I don't buy wrinkle cream and don't plan to. Who cares?? And botox??? Not on your life would I willfully inject myself with a toxin.
2) A few gray hairs. I don't mind them, either. They're kind of like little reminders of my newfound wisdom and experience. (HA!). Seriously, though, my mom had the coolest, most wicked-looking streak of all gray hair by the time she was about 21. Because of that, I guess, gray hair has never scared me or worried me. I kind of like it.
The weird stuff:
3) My face breaks out more now than when I was going through puberty. A lot more. I had only a handful of pimples the whole time I was in high school. Now, every day my face looks like it exploded on itself.
4) I have new, unidentified allergies. I used to be allergic to absolutely, positively nothing. I could roll naked in poison ivy and not get a rash. I could rub my face with a pillow covered in dust and cat hair and no reaction. Medicines, foods, weeds, pollen, flowers be damned. I was invincible. These days, pushing 30, it's a different story. I get inexplicable headaches. I take an aspirin, only to realize about 10 minutes later that on top of the headache, I can't breathe and my eyes are burning. Damn. Should have taken the red pill, not the white one. How about this green gel thingie? Nothing seems to work. I'm too poor to pay for the good stuff.
5) Psoriasis. My secret affliction. I had it very bad when I was about 13, then again at 18, and then it went away completely. This year, pushing 30, it has flared up again. Read this if you want to get a laugh out of the indignity that is psoriasis.
6) Sensitive stomach. Gone are the days of consuming platefuls of cheese, cheese pizza, followed by cream cheese deserts, milk, and ice cream. Not lactose intolerant quite yet, I fear that I may be getting there.
I'll be 30 in July. I don't fear this age. I embrace it. But I'm annoyed at the fact that my body keeps making fun of me.
Monday, April 05, 2004
These are the days
These are the crazy days that I hate being a course coordinator. I've got two final exams to edit, final project guidelines to write, final exam study guides to write, tons of work to do in order to get things ready to pass on to my successor. Today I had my last big meeting as a coordinator, and it didn't really make me sad to think about leaving that job behind. It has been a good experience, but I'm ready to pass it on to someone else. It'll be a relief to be responsible only for my own classes and no one else's. To make decisions that only I have to live with. Without consulting 17 other people every time I sneeze. Just thinking about that future makes my shoulders less tense.
These are the crazy days that I hate being a course coordinator. I've got two final exams to edit, final project guidelines to write, final exam study guides to write, tons of work to do in order to get things ready to pass on to my successor. Today I had my last big meeting as a coordinator, and it didn't really make me sad to think about leaving that job behind. It has been a good experience, but I'm ready to pass it on to someone else. It'll be a relief to be responsible only for my own classes and no one else's. To make decisions that only I have to live with. Without consulting 17 other people every time I sneeze. Just thinking about that future makes my shoulders less tense.
Sunday, April 04, 2004
Updates
No bandana bears at the Hillsborough Wal-Mart, so it's a gift card instead for my brother's baby due in June.
We had our first potential buyer come and look at the house yesterday. It was a bit nerve-wracking. Secretly, of course, I was hoping he/she would fall in love with it and make an offer immediately. The reality though, is that this whole process could take a while.
We're looking at a house in Cowan, TN. We had no intentions of buying, but this is a real find: a brand new cabin, twice the space we have now, 3 br, 2 1/2 bath, hardwood floors, views of the mountains all around.
No bandana bears at the Hillsborough Wal-Mart, so it's a gift card instead for my brother's baby due in June.
We had our first potential buyer come and look at the house yesterday. It was a bit nerve-wracking. Secretly, of course, I was hoping he/she would fall in love with it and make an offer immediately. The reality though, is that this whole process could take a while.
We're looking at a house in Cowan, TN. We had no intentions of buying, but this is a real find: a brand new cabin, twice the space we have now, 3 br, 2 1/2 bath, hardwood floors, views of the mountains all around.
Saturday, April 03, 2004
Ten years worth of files
Today is "big trash day" in our neighborhood, which means that the home owners' association has asked the city to come and pick up any unwanted furniture, etc. that we take to the curb. J and I decided to dump a nasty, ratty old filing cabinet that he scored from Kinko's several years back when they were throwing it to the curb. At the time, it seemed like a find: metal, four drawers, and all but one of them worked perfectly. Even though it's scarred and banged up and has no lock, it seemed like a handy thing to have. Now it's become an eyesore. So, we're dragging it to the curb. If you know where we live and you want it, you've got like 2 hours to get your butt over here and take it. We dumped out about 10 years of files last night and it was like a chronological trip through our lives. J's philosophy notebooks, my Master's exam notes, old bills. It's going to feel fantastic to recycle that stuff and move on. In a lot of ways, this move to Sewanee feels the most like a new beginning of all the moves we've made. It has something to do with the fact that for the first time in 10 years, neither of us will be or will even want to be a student.
Today is "big trash day" in our neighborhood, which means that the home owners' association has asked the city to come and pick up any unwanted furniture, etc. that we take to the curb. J and I decided to dump a nasty, ratty old filing cabinet that he scored from Kinko's several years back when they were throwing it to the curb. At the time, it seemed like a find: metal, four drawers, and all but one of them worked perfectly. Even though it's scarred and banged up and has no lock, it seemed like a handy thing to have. Now it's become an eyesore. So, we're dragging it to the curb. If you know where we live and you want it, you've got like 2 hours to get your butt over here and take it. We dumped out about 10 years of files last night and it was like a chronological trip through our lives. J's philosophy notebooks, my Master's exam notes, old bills. It's going to feel fantastic to recycle that stuff and move on. In a lot of ways, this move to Sewanee feels the most like a new beginning of all the moves we've made. It has something to do with the fact that for the first time in 10 years, neither of us will be or will even want to be a student.
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Bandana Bears
After thinking that some of this would be cool to give my sister-in-law for her baby shower, I hear from cousin Judy (the slightly crazy one, but I love her anyway) that she (sister-in-law) wants this bedding instead. Look closely and you'll see the theme: little bears dressed up like cowboys and cowgirls. ????? The blanket says "Li'l Cowpoke." Yep. These are hideous. Should I refuse to give my new niece/nephew something so tacky? Notice: these are only available for purchase at Wal-Mart (I will not bestow them with a link here). Or do I give the mother what she wants? I guess the latter. There's no accounting for taste.
p.s. Don't worry. Family knows nothing of blogs (either their existence or the fact that I have one). No one has internet access nor would they think to look me up if they did. Truuuuuust me. Plus, I'd tell her to her face that I think these are horrid.
After thinking that some of this would be cool to give my sister-in-law for her baby shower, I hear from cousin Judy (the slightly crazy one, but I love her anyway) that she (sister-in-law) wants this bedding instead. Look closely and you'll see the theme: little bears dressed up like cowboys and cowgirls. ????? The blanket says "Li'l Cowpoke." Yep. These are hideous. Should I refuse to give my new niece/nephew something so tacky? Notice: these are only available for purchase at Wal-Mart (I will not bestow them with a link here). Or do I give the mother what she wants? I guess the latter. There's no accounting for taste.
p.s. Don't worry. Family knows nothing of blogs (either their existence or the fact that I have one). No one has internet access nor would they think to look me up if they did. Truuuuuust me. Plus, I'd tell her to her face that I think these are horrid.