NO. WAY.

Fascinating Me

Some stuff I've come to realize:

• I am not good at keeping up with relationships if they're not right in my face.  I WANT to be, and I think I am fundamentally a loyal person, but I'm not consistent.
• However, the friends that I do have are pressed to examine their emotions and motivations and then share their conclusions with me.  I wade into still waters, step on thin ice, and open the flood-gates.
• A couple of people have called me "competitive" in recent years.  The first one who called me that shocked me so deeply that I actually argued with her.  Competitive is perhaps how it appears- although it's a term that I equate more with aggressive success in business, sports, whatever.  The truth is that I crave attention.  I was never into sports.  I was into theater.  Think about it.

Just need to decide which

Down to two cars- which do you think?




Am also working on the "after" image that I like best post-liposuction- which do you like best?





Still shopping for noses- will let you know.

Letter of Recommendation

To Whom It May Concern,
It is my pleasure to introduce my friend and colleague, Laurie Waalkes. I have known Laurie for what seems like forever many years, and over that time, she has proven over and over again shown adaptability, humor, resourcefulness and energy.

One of her distinguishing characteristics is her moodiness chameleon-like response to the insanity pressures of her job. Faced with an impending deadline, Laurie will simply lie about her progress reacts with decisive and complete focus. She is certainly able to convince everybody of her competence juggle multiple tasks in spite of her complete lack of organizational skills many important responsibilities.

Laurie's biting sarcasm buoyant good humor has wounded all of us at one time or another carried her colleagues through many disastrous errors in judgment high-priority projects. She will be a constant impediment to progress valued morale builder with her ADD many asides and observations.

Ms. Waalkes has mastered pawning off her work the art of delegation. Those of us who work with her know to hide when we see her coming that she will choose the hapless parapro best member of the team to get the grunt work details handled.

All of us here at XYZ school are singing "ding, dong, the witch is dead" going to miss her, but we are terrified that no one else will hire her look for many successes in her future.

So long, suckers
Sincerely,

The last one to say "not-it!" when asked to write this
Einstein's Relative

Here's One!

Hey- I suddenly thought of some of my big truths:

I can tolerate almost anything except intolerance.

Here's another:

True wealth, to me, would be never having to rush.

Oh, and here's one, although I routinely fail to apply it:
Failing to plan is planning to fail. So, so, sadly true in the trenches of classroom instruction.

Bona Fide Fake

Authenticity.
Out of all the personality profiles (ENFP! or ESFP...? Gemini!... Strong interpersonal, linguistic and musical intelligences! Gamine! or Classic...? Winter!... Who knows what-all..., give me an inane magazine quiz, or a book length opportunity for self-analysis, and I'm yours), I don't seem to have found this quality described.
In a breath-taking moment of insight (I was sweeping the basement at the time,) it occurred to me that I have this sort of elitist attitude about starting from scratch, truly innovating.
It dawned on me that I shop- and BUY- weekly at crafts stores because I want to be an artist, but I refuse to buy a kit of any kind because that would make me a poseur. So I buy a bunch of stuff hoping that this, finally, will be my medium.
I resist cooking because I'm not detail-oriented, but I feel very sheepish and apologetic about mixes and frozen foods because that makes me lame.
OK, my whole life, I have thought that anything that smacks of nautical has no business here in Colorado. Piers, ropes, pelicans, light-houses- any kind of art or decor that has these motifs is ridiculous. We're in the land-locked, mountain west. Embracing that marine aesthetic is ridiculous. That includes, by the way, undersea shower curtains. (I think that TROUT is a more reasonable dish to offer here, although I understand seafood restaurants and make allowances for them.)
I never really liked art portraits, because I don't know those people. Not authentic.
There are, I'm sure, many other examples, and areas in which I hypocritically contradict this. (For example, the phone number for the Schwan's man is programmed into my cell phone.) (Oops, and for another example, the only art hanging in my living is two POSTERS of PORTRAITS. My own works are framed, but sheepishly obscured in the basement behind stacks of, yes, more art supplies.)
And then, there is abundant arm-chair psychology to be mined. Am I so worked up about authenticity because at a deeper level, I feel like a fraud? (yes)
My sister, who is surely one of the most articulate and linguistically creative persons in this hemisphere (once going into great detail about Dan-o, in Hawaii 5-0, staggering backwards ILL-CHOREOGRAPHEDLY upon the death of a long-lost love), described someone as a bona fide fake. As opposed to a fake fake, I guess.
Am I bona fide? I'll have to consider that subtlety with regards to myself in a later post.

I have my reasons

1. A Girl Named Zippy
2. This House of Sky
3. To Kill A Mockingbird
4. Peace Like A River
5. Franny and Zooey
6. The Pursuit of Love
7. On The Banks of Plum Creek
8. The Hobbit
9. Maniac Magee
10. Walk Two Moons

In no particular order, I give you the ten titles that come to mind first as books I will read over and over again. Can you learn anything about me from this list? Are these books anything alike? Have you read all of them? What are the ten titles that come to mind first for YOU?

The Sixth Sheik's Sixth Sheep's Sick

Well, I thought of my sixth weird thing. It's not as good as dreaming in Turkish, but it'll have to do.

6. My whole life, I have categorized pain as either round or pointy. I didn't realize that this was a standard for me until I was well into adulthood and that nobody else ever seemed to mention this quality. I have tried hard to explain it, especially to my sister Shelley. The best I have been able to come up with is: you take Advil for round pain, and aspirin for pointy pain.

Anybody? Anybody?

And yes, I AM home sick today, although I am neither a sheik nor a sheep.

Home Alone... and 6 Weird Things

Home today with the little sickie. We got to the doctor ASAP. Doctor barely looked into the ear and said, "Oh, yea," and whipped out her prescription pad. Rose's ear infection, like so much about her, is completely over the top. Turns out that, in addition to the more familiar swelling and fluid of the classic ear infection, she has a BLISTER ON HER EARDRUM. Could that be any more horrifying?

Well, yes. Because, in addition to this skin-crawlingly, disablingly painful condition, they ascertained that a certain pansy-ass mother had neglected to get her daughter vaccinated against influenza this year.

I don't think I need to go on.

Fortunately my teammates at work refused to entertain the idea of me showing up today. They are handling everything. I love them.

Now, at the risk of being practically NORMAL compared to Cally, (scroll down. Jan. 28. I don't know how to link directly to the post.) I offer you this:

1. I have a phobia about collarbones. It's a visceral, shuddering thing like fingernails on a blackboard. I particularly can't stand to have my own touched or referred to, but collarbones in general are just better left unmentioned. (My cruel older sister once winningly made me some salt-clay clavicles for my birthday. Very clever.) In fact, this focus on the topic is making mine hum with that psychic discomfort that you get when someone stands in line behind you a little too closely.

2. I take my astrological characteristics beyond the twosome. I'm more like the sign of... the... CHAMELEON. I just channel other people. Their aesthetic, their gestures, facial expressions. I'm not saying I'm great at impressions or anything. It's more of an absorption. Especially when I was younger, I had to be very careful around anyone with an accent, because I would unconsciously adopt their speech. This, as you can imagine, comes in handy on stage. Otherwise, it just makes me somewhat suspect.

3. I made myself little sanctuaries in dark closets when I was little. I still long and long for sensory deprivation in extreme moments, and have seriously considered dedicating personal, ADULT closet space to a black box. At my daughter's special preschool, they had just such a cave, lined with foam rubber covered with black jersey, with black curtains over the front and pillows on the floor. Get all Freudian if you must. Personally, I prefer my fall back position, which is that all of us are somewhere on the autism spectrum.

4. Case in point: I find it VERY soothing to gently, rhythmically and persistently hit myself in the head. Not with a hammer or anything.

5. I can't stand lotion. Well, actually I discovered just this last year that it's not LOTION that I can't stand. It's COLD lotion. I've taken to filling the basin with hot water and dropping bottles of moisturizer and body lotion into it before I get in the shower.

6. Well, now, I don't know. I think I'm going to have to think about this one. I know! Number Six can be a sort of teaser, like "previews from our next episode" or something. Because I can think of GROSS things about myself, and EMBARRASSING things about myself, and things that are frankly just TOO MUCH INFORMATION. But I'm really trying to reach the level of fitting my whole fist into my mouth. Surely there's something in my past that qualifies.

So tune in next time.

Irresolute

My greatest accomplishments have never been related to New Year's Resolutions. In fact, my fitness accomplishments, career advancement, job transfer and professional education advances all took place in a sort of possession. Sometimes it was calm and deliberate. Sometimes it was manic. Sometimes it was impulsive. But it wasn't consciously planned, and written down like the self-help gurus recommend.

Mind you, becoming a parent required a ton of advance planning and maneuvering and decision-making and class-taking. But I don't think adoption ever showed up on a list of New Year's Resolutions.

And the New Year's Resolutions that people seem to write are notoriously unattained and short-lived.

So, should I write anything down that means anything to me? Or would that doom it from the start?

Either/Or

A shot of a little guy I like to call Daniel Claus. Yes, that's a coonskin cap. Well, pseudo-coon. Doesn't he kill you? And I promise, his personality is just like the pic suggests.

(note to self: learn more about using camera, editing digital pics, and posting them in blog. Still, hilarious. Please note the tops of his little llbean boots down there.)

8:50, and through inertia, I have waited nearly too long to make it to jazz. Is this shameful, or OK? (OK, because I can still put the 4:00 class into the hazy future of this afternoon.)

Tentative plans to crop with Madame Librarian, and struggling to imagine leaving the house at all today. Am I tired from the trip? Am I intimidated (a seemingly recurring theme in these annals...) by the prospect of going back to work, and needing to putter here? And IF I stay home, will I really do laundry, take down the tree, iron, hem pants, cook meals, and otherwise prepare for the Oregon trail of going back to teaching fifth grade...? Or will I succumb to the drugged-like sleep that overtakes me if I stay in this overwhelming chaos? (Watch this one: if I get off this admittedly VERY COMFORTABLE leather office chair with awesome lumbar support- maybe make that arsesome-that P found for $30 on Craig's list, I can do it ALL, including jazz.)

But let's have some fun:

1. Dogs? or cats?
Dogs. Now, if you had said (well, if I had said) puppies or kittens, I would have to go feline on this one.

2. Forest or island?
Are we talking out of children's fiction here, or reality? Because those mossy, sun-dappled forest floors always fascinated me. Never mind, I pick forest anyway. But deciduous. Or at least aspen mixed in with the evergreen.

3. Elves or gnomes?
Oh, decidedly elves. The real question is, are BROWNIES the same as elves? Or are they better?

4. Newt Gingrich, or Rush Limbaugh? (you HAVE to choose. Moowaa, ha, ha!!! And you thought this was just going to be a sweet little happy quiz!)
God. god, god, god. I'm going to have to pick Newt, because his influence has waned, and now he's just a comical hair-victim. Rush exerts far too much influence on my mother-in-law, among other easily-herded animals.

5. Little House series, or Anne of Green Gables series?
huh. Tough one here. I'll get back to you. Actually, I don't think I could have loved Anne as much until I had already been weaned on Laura. So, Laura.

6. Science fiction, or true crime? (ick. Now I've set MYSELF up for writhing.)
hate, HATE them both. Still, the Slytherin (see below) part of me will admit to sordid curiosity about true crime. Otherwise, why read "People" magazine?

7. Sean Connery, or Tom Selleck? (I know, I KNOW they're assholes. That's the POINT of this game. They're BEAUTIFUL assholes. Um, so to speak.)
Tom Selleck. It's the shots of him running shirtless through the surf that do it. Still, that accent of Sean's is hard to ignore. Here's the REAL hot old guy: Patrick Stewart. I mean it.

8. Which Hogwarts house would the sorting hat put you in? Be honest. We all WISH to be Griffindore, and I'm quite sure no one will admit to being a Slytherin, so let's just limit it to Ravenclaw, Griffindore or Hufflepuff?
I would LOVE to be in Griffindore, but I'm afraid two things would hold me back. A, I'm not sure how to spell it. B, my courage is kinda flickery, like a flashlight with a poor connection. Sometimes I amaze myself with my outspoken confrontation of institutional steamrolling. Other times, I put on a bland "I don't get it" face. I would be placed in Ravenclaw. Any victim of my rapier wit (a.k.a. sarcasm) would agree. And anyone who has ever been to my home or seen the top of my desk would know that the work ethic of Hufflepuffs is WAY above my own.

9. Social Committee, or Discipline Committee? (god forbid. The answer to this one, folks, is to SIGN UP for Social Committee, and immediately start an after-school CLUB that always meets at the same time as the committee.)

10. France or Spain?
Spain, of course.

11. Fine, Spain or Italy?
Spain.

12. Italy or France?
Italy.

13. Italy or Greece.
Greece. duh.

14. Japan, or Australia?
Australia.

15. Japan or China?
Japan.

16. China or Nepal?
Nepal.

17. Fine then, Nepal or Australia?
Australia.

(I really don't need any blog-readers. It's not that I don't love you, but the truth is, I have spent my life talking to an imaginary audience, which has always hung with fascination to my every word, action or opinion. I am not making this up. The only way I EVER got through practicing for my piano lessons was the knowledge that the movie being made of my life would reveal my early cleverness, as well as the problematic work ethic.)

18. Me, or you?
ha! Just kidding.

I think that's enough for now. It's been fun.

Well, THAT'S behind me

January first, that is. And I made it through without setting any resolutions.

December 31st passed with only a half-hearted attempt at my annual review of the months. Every year for about 20 years I have listed each month, and one good thing and one bad thing about each. 2006 was pretty easy to review without a list, so I just never got around to it.

I will though. Remember, nothing fascinates me more than myself.

My sister and I toodled around today- library, SB coffee place (where I asked them- or, rather, SHE asked them FOR me- if I could have their white silhouette holiday display pieces when they took them down, AND THEY SAID YES), and a couple of favorite local independent boutiques with flowers, letterpress stationery, various impractical pretties. She is going to ride greyhound to pueblo tomorrow in hopes of purchasing a 1967 international scout. Now THAT, people, is intrepid.

I got myself a spool-type knitter with modern improvements such as grooved posts, a spinning post-platform, and holes drilled in the platform so it can be hooked with the little tool and spun on its dial. I "knitted" an entire ball of hairy pretty yarn, and intend to use it on a child's fleece cloak.

Also took another look at Martha's pipe-cleaner deer- may have to make those.

If I DID make a resolution or two, they MIGHT be related to using some of the raw materials I posted about...

...and if I get around to the accomplishments and events of 2006, I'll definitely celebrate the jazzing, and "my" art club.

And, hey, I keep checking to see if madame librarian has posted, and if she's back in town, but there's nothing but so-called silence. huh.