Ramblings From the Comfy Couch

Story Snippets

2010-01-02T20:47:00.000-08:00

Back in 2005, I was digging through my stuff and finding snippets of stories that I wrote alone or collaborated with someone on and posting the favorite bits of those. I believe my exact words back then were "Sometimes I read stuff I wrote and it fits far more smoothly than I had hoped, making it like brand new material to me...then again, that might just be AGE making me forget what I said." Anyway, I've decided to do that again, 'cause I like reeling in the years. Should anyone be interested, I usually have the whole story on file and can send it. Other times, you're ALREADY reading the whole story 'cause I'm great at getting stuff done without getting sidetra....hey, a rerun of Scrubs!

Okay, a Daina & (Big) Josh story snippet (the middle is actually written by him, but I liked the whole section, so I kept it all):

"On a good day, you can see through the space-time continuum...on a bad day, you tear right through the sum'bitch." D. Burke

Teen angst on a string is something that one doesn't ever really think they'll have to deal with again until it rears its Tommy Hilfigered, baggy jeaned, "in" crowded, head-up-its-own-assed head in the middle of a group of normal high schoolers, causing them to erupt into screaming fits, storming-out fits, general hysterics and haughtily whispered snatches of conversation that usually include phrases like, "that BITCH", "if she thinks", "well, I heard from so-and-so that", "we better go talk to her in the bathroom" and my all time favorite, "she bet'not put her hand in MY face, 'cause I WILL beat her ass down!"
All this comes to a heightened point of necessary catharsis, the nexus for all emotional distress and teenage torment, a sort of end all, be all of emotional disturbance and mind boggling acts of insanity...
...the high school drama director.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE TRYING TO DO TO MEEEEEEEE! HAVE YOU NO IDEA WHATSOEVER OF HOW MUCH TIME IS LEFT BEFORE THIS FRICKIN' PLAY GOES UP? WHAT THE FLIP IS THAT???"
All action stopped onstage as every middle and high school head turned to the back row of the auditorium to peer blankly past the spotlights to the empty back row, where I lay on the floor writhing in complete agony.
"But Mrs. Burke..." came the plaintive cry.
"SHUT IT!!!" I screeched to the ceiling. "I...DON'T...WANNA...HEAR IT!!! IF I'VE SAID IT ONCE, I’VE SAID IT A THOUSAND AND ONE TIMES...NO BUTTS TO THE AUDIENCE!!! How'm I doing?" The last part was directed to my assistant director and better half, Nancy, who sat a row ahead of me. As the school librarian and the official adult onsite, she took it upon herself to be the good cop to my bad cop during rehearsal, which just made me out to be even more the sweetheart when I was in a good mood. She was, effectively, the neutral zone to my cosmic chaos.
Presently, she looked back at the cast with a time honored look of withering adult blandness. "I hope you're happy, people," she said in her classic monotone. "She's dead now. You killed her."
"Oh, you're in a fury tonight, Nance," I said, rising up on an elbow sarcastically.
"I save the melodramatics for you, Daina," she replied, a hint of a smirk on her face. "They are, by the way, wetting their pants thinking you're about to rerun Act One from the top again."
"Being an adult rules!" I grinned, giving her the thumbs up from the floor. "Watch this." I raised my voice again so the kids on stage could hear. "Give me ONE GOOD REASON why I shouldn't make us stay until 9 tonight."
The multitude of pleading voices as I pretended to wearily drag myself back into my seat was better than applause.
An hour later, it was NOT enough to make me anymore than tired to the bone when I dragged into the house. Kevin gave me a kiss and a hug when I came in, then babied the heck out of me all the way to the sofa.
"How did it go tonight?" he asked.
"I was evil," I smiled.
"That good, huh?" he grinned back.
"Yeah...I threatened to make them rehearse until midnight, then I...urg." I could see the question on Kevin's face, but the pain just behind my left eye made it impossible to answer him and, after a moment, impossible to see him. It occurred to me briefly that God was probably punishing me for torturing innocent students, so I was probably better off not complaining. I closed my eyes for a second to rub them, then opened them again and was only slightly surprised to find myself in my subconscious bedroom.
I was slightly more surprised to find a large gaping hole in the wall that opened up to a foreboding, swirling darkness that looked remarkably like the tornado scene in "The Wizard of Oz".
The rest of my horror actually came from finding myself lying on the bed next to the one known affectionately as "the boy", but more commonly known as Josh.
In an amazingly synchronized display, we both screamed bloody murder, leapt away from each other to opposite walls, pointed at one another and with all the creative thought we could muster shouted, "What the HELL are YOU doing here?!?!"

Josh's part:

The scene looked like something out of a detective movie. Josephine paced back and forth with the stern look of incredibly deep thought on her face. Hsoj sat steepling his fingers wearing his best poker face. Joe seemed to be moving 90 miles an hour in his seat, the frantic look that ever wrong-doing-child gets on their face.
"Okay, tell me one more time what happened. Tell me everything from the top and don't leave out a single detail. I have to know exactly what happened."
"Well…" Hsoj began.
"And this time I want to hear it from Joe. I have the feeling you aren't being completely honest, even though you know that if we don't find Josh his body will eventually die in the real world."
Joe apparently lost in his own self made world of shear terror, screamed when Hsoj nudged him and told him to tell Josephine everything. Meanwhile...

IRVING, TEXAS: JOSH'S LOCATION

Every one basically ignored the guy asleep in class. Until, of course, class was over. The students filed out, in that hurried manner you find in any institute of learning. Five minutes after the bell rang the teacher noticed the sleeping student was still there. Perturbed that he had the audacity to sleep through the lecture and now wouldn't get up so that he himself could leave, the professor stormed over to the unconscious student's desk. First there was the simple nudge and, "get up!" Then, when the student simply fell limp and lifeless to the floor, the panic set in.
The professor knew that Geology wasn't all that exciting. He knew that he himself hated it, and that his lectures were boring and drawn out, but he never imagined in a million years that he would ACTUALLY bore someone to death!
Panicked, he checked for a pulse. It was faint, but still there. He grabbed his cell phone and began to dial 911, then stopped. If this got out, that with the most boring lecture in the world he had actually killed a student, he would never work in education again. The last thing he wanted was to actually become a geologist, so he pulled the car to the door nearest the class room and loaded up the body. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he began to think of where the largest natural deposit of lime was.
Finally, geology had a real world application...!

MEANWHILE BACK IN THE HEAD:

"Alright, after hearing everything, I can now categorically say...I have no idea what to do." Josephine flopped in a chair exhausted.
"I have an idea," Hsoj said smoothly, "Why don't I take temporary control of the body. And you and the boy can search the link systematically. I'll tell you the safes..." He was cut short by the sudden death grip on his best friend, Mr. Happy. The tears in his eyes let Josephine know she was using just the right amount of pressure.
"Finish that sentence, and plan on peeing sitting down for awhile. Why don't you go hunting, seeing how all of this is your fault. Everyone else around here might think you're a big man and dangerous to boot. But I'll kill you if I have to, understand? You might be the most powerful Dark Elv to ever have existed, and you might have made kings fall to there knees before you, but I'm a woman on the edge with your balls in my hand and my period started yesterday...so, in short, do not fuck with me right now, OK!!!"
"Well, if I leave, who's going to control the body? You need a man so that people won't be suspicious of you and try and lock you away for being a freak," Hsoj squeaked.
"Hsoj, if you aren't off looking for Josh in ten seconds I'm going to rip them off wrap 'em up and give them to you for Christmas." Hsoj cringed and headed for the door, looked in to the swirling darkness the could kill you if not used properly and suddenly had the answer, he turned to tell Josephine but she just looked at him sternly and said," And don't forget to take the boy with you."

My part (again):

"Jinx, you owe me a Coke!" Josh grinned.
I grinned back, pretending momentarily to be with him in this little 4th grade bit of humor. "Yeah, yeah, a Coke, 'cause...SHUT UP!" He looked at me, a bit put out by the sudden change in my attitude, then looked back at the hole in the wall.
"Right...the wall," he nodded. "You're probably wondering about that."
"Ever so slightly," I muttered.
"Well, funny you should ask, 'cause I'm not exactly sure either. I'd LIKE to say it's the link, but then I'd also like to say I enjoy geology class," he said, looking askance as the hole again. "I kinda fell through it."
"Kinda?" I looked back at the size of the hole again, questioning his judgement a bit.
"I got pushed," he added helpfully.
"Ye-esss."
"It, uh...wasn't fun."
I rubbed my eyes...this was frequently how conversations with the boy tended to go...nowhere. "So I'm told. You realize, now, that two REAL humans are now occupying the same body. If I wake up, we have MAJOR problems." I blinked, remembering the head pain that had knocked me out. "Assuming I can ever wake up again. K, you have to go now." I began shoving him toward the hole as he dug his heels in.
"Hey, wait a minute, that's a large gaping hole to nowhere right now...pushing me in is NOT gonna help matters!" he spluttered.
I thought about this a moment. If he disappeared into the nothingness I was looking at, we'd both have a major problem. He'd cease to exist properly and I have this thing with guilt eating at me when I cause the death of others.
I sighed. "Alright, I'll take you home...you just can't stay here."
"What, you don't have TIME for a visit?" Josh joked.
"Not the deadly kind!" I grinned back. "C'mon, let's go."
Ah, yes, famous last words.
"Let's go".
It implies leaving, a sense of travel that really has no definite direction, something that I REALLY needed to remember the next time I stepped into nothingness, with or without a friend in tow...

…fwhooff…

It's the noise you always hear in the movies when an atom bomb hits, that dull air-rushed thud that's even more baffling because the word "bomb" is attached to it. It's almost as if the very fact that it's the most deadly thing you can imagine makes it unnecessary to have all the noise you normally associate with other deadly stuff like dynamite, shotgun blasts, and cannon fire. After all, you're LOOKING at a mushroom cloud by that point, which is the visual symbol of total annihilation, so the "death wrapped in a Kleenex" kind of noise is meant to underscore that, I suppose. The bigger the cloud of death, the more likely you are to get that softer, quieter sound.
Which probably explains why that was the sound I "heard" upon entering the void. In retrospect, I probably heard NOTHING, just like I couldn't actually feel Josh grab my wrist at the last moment and cling to it to make sure he didn't lose me before the point became moot. I didn't "see" darkness, although I recall straining my eyes to the point of actual insanity, desperate to see even a shadow. I didn't "hear" my scream disappear into this blanket of death; I just knew I tried to scream out with all I could. And I sure couldn't have sensed the suffocating darkness pouring into my open mouth and all throughout my body before I felt the Kleenex of death wrap my brain into that softness that I didn't have the presence of mind to be afraid of for more than a second on some universal watch…

2009-12-16T14:20:00.001-08:00

Help! Go to wgrz.com and click on Andy's Weather Machine under "weather". Enter my school (Niagara County, Washington Hunt) as many times as you can tonight!

It All Started With Fame...

2009-07-24T10:36:00.000-07:00

...and went downhill from there.

Wanna feel old? Picture your favorite actor/actress from when you were 10 or so. Now, if your fave has gone from gracing the cover of Tiger Beat, to People, to Lifetime, to do commercials for vitamins, pain relievers or life insurance, congrats...you're over 40!

This all started because I saw this trailer at the drive in the other night before Harry Potter. There was some dancer and the words "It all starts with a dream..." This song was playing at the beginning and I knew the words and started singing along, but couldn't place WHY I knew the words:

Sometimes I wonder,
where I've been.
Who I am,
do I fit in.

I may not win,
but I can be strong
Out here
On my own

Then suddenly, before I can say "Oh, that's On My Own" and be mad that they cut a part from the lyrics, that haunting refrain from another WAY more popular song came in:

"Remember, remember, remember..."

And I DID.

"HOLY !@#, they're redoing FAME!" I screamed to Kevin. Man, I just about SOILED myself. Suddenly, I was mentally trasported back in time to middle school. My middle school was an independant private school called Crossroads in downtown St. Louis that was run almost mom and pop style by an amazing collection of hippies, professors, educators, outdoorsman, businessmen and EVERYONE'S parents. It's the only school where I had Sledding for gym, a field trip to watch the Cardinals World Series parade, had an econ class through school store and a host of other really cool experiences, most of which were just phenomenal in terms of real world learning. My dad even came in and did a ton of awesome computer programming stuff back when it was still something you wrote lines of text for.

Anyway, the creativity aspect is what made it a prime jumping off place for VAP, St. Louis's Visual and Performing Arts magnet school. Kids in my school were always hanging around writing their own plays and music and all this other neat artistic stuff...and then FAME came out and EVERYONE was a dancer or a singer. Heck, even I wanted to be Irene Cara and I wasn't allowed to see the MOVIE back then (rated R, so I just heard about it and watched the subsequent tv show). 4 different chicks did "On My Own" for the talent show!

So, after seeing that and singing the song for karaoke at tournament this year (which, if you've never seen improv comedians doing karaoke, I HIGHLY recommend...we had the ENTIRE dancing in the street scene going on the dance floor in front of me!), I came home and looked up the movie, only to find out that it came out in 1980.

1980, people!

Seriously, Fame is coming up on its THIRTIETH anniversary! I'll be 40 two days after the remake comes out and the movie will be 30 a few months later!

That's when I started looking at where they are now and what folks are doing and got that bolt of reality. Gene Anthony Ray (Leroy) is dead, as is Mr. Shorofsky (who was already older, but MAN!). That kinda stuff makes you look at all the other famous folks of the time, like Farrah & Michael and Lindsay Wagner...the Bionic Woman is doing SLEEP NUMBER beds! Robin Williams was on Letterman doing an entire monologue on HEART SURGERY.

And meanwhile, the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus still live...

Where is the JUSTICE, people? Are these children DRAINING the lives from our faves and using it for media sustenance? Who among us is NEXT???

At any rate, now that the rose colored glasses are off, the movie itself looks...okay? I mean, I'm only going from the way the dancers are dancing and the remake of the theme song, but it seems kinda...slutty?

Again, I'm probably just getting old, 'cause when I go back and look at the tv show, whenever they break into spontaneous dancing (which is ALWAYS), there's a ton of pelvic thrusting and whatnot that I now see as a bit suggestive (watch about 2 minutes into this and see if you think Debbie Allen woulda kept her teaching license TODAY!). But the music seemed to be more heart pounding and exciting.

The new version...there's a lot of girls SLIDING into splits and arching bodies (wow, I sound like some old censor lady or something!). And the new beat doesn't make me want to jump up and spontaneously dance, unless there's a pole involved. Plus, look at this poster! Are we selling sex and Pepsi or something???

Age. I'm not scared of getting old, but I can remember when all music was fun and I couldn't imagine sleeping through Saturday morning cartoons. Suddenly, I'm not even TOUCHING the TV on Saturdays because of all this computer animated and video game crap (says the woman who actually watched THIS power hour on Saturdays) and listening to more and more JACK FM.

D.

Back from Canada & on to Wisconsin!

2009-07-06T11:06:00.000-07:00

Well, we've just returned from our trip with the Quinns to Canada, where we boxed Parry Sound. This was a really nice little area that I'd never gotten to see much of. The Highlander's grandpa ran a campsite up in Pointe au Baril and before he passed, he sold most of it (which became Sturgeon Bay Provincial Park) but kept one cottage for the family. We had a good time, but didn't get to spend much of it together. So, Kevin and I will be heading back to spend our 10th wedding anniversary back up at Pointe au Baril. Apparently, there's a lobster dinner and dance going on at the community center up there AND Harry Potter is coming out, so dinner and a movie!

But, for now, I'm back on the road again in less than 48 hours. I'm gonna be playing for Buffalo in the ComedySportz World Championship games this Friday (wheee!). We play against Portland on Friday, and with any luck, we'll make it to the finals on Saturday. Can't wait to see how we do!

Anyway, I'm not sure if my computer will withstand the pressure of life in Milwaukee for a week, but if anyone reading this wants to see how ComedySportz Buffalo and I are doing, just follow CSzBuffalo on Twitter. I'm kinda the voice of CSz Buffalo for Twitter, but I only speak for the team, not myself. I'm also going to try and post on Facebook and Blogger from my phone...we'll see how well that goes!

If you're in Milwaukee, though, I'd LOVE to have you come to the games! The more bias in my favor, the better!

D.

Improvathon 2009 May 30-31

2009-05-30T07:53:00.001-07:00

Just a reminder that the Improvathon starts today at the Riviera Theater in North Tonawanda! I'm playing 4-6pm and 10-midnight, then 2-4pm tomorrow and maybe the All Star show at 8pm. If you're reading this and you don't come...you better live in another state!!!

Random Clown Post

2009-04-25T22:21:00.000-07:00

This was something I typed into the notes on my phone after one of those great goofy conversations with Kevin:

I think the only thing that would sound funnier than beatin' someone down with an accordion would be beatin' down one of those clowns with the squeaky shoes and the bike horn nose. Visually, beating the bejeesus outta a mascot is pretty appealing, but who can deny the joy you'd get in the discordant cacaphony of cheesy instruments, which should end with the quintessential El Kabong sound.

In fact, if I knew I had clown beatings to look forward to, I would actually carry around a supply of cheap ukeleles in the trunk of my car JUST for such an occasion. These would be next to my bag of throwing shoes for presidential visits and my multipurpose sack of vegetables.

Karbi

2009-02-20T11:07:00.000-08:00

Not sure why I don't already have this posted, but since people still ask about it, here it is! It was originally written after a holiday party back in 2003.

Many people don't know this, but I am actually the African American ambassador to the nation. One of many, really, but I don't often seem to be in the same place at the same time with the other ambassadors. In fact, in most cases and many places here in upstate New York, I am the "only one" or "the other one" in many social gatherings. It is my job to be as diplomatic as possible in relations with those outside the African American race so that all future cross culture interactions go as smoothly as possible. It's a pretty stressful position, but one I have slowly learned to realize the importance (and sometimes depressing nature) of.

Just this past holiday, my husband and I were visiting friends for our yearly New Year's party. This party is truly the highlight of our year. It always includes a great many people, old and young, most of whom I hold in high regard as friends of my husband's and now, mine. I'm usually the only person of color in attendance, but this never bothers me, no matter where we are. As I mentioned, I'm frequently the "only one" or "the other one". Since these friends live more than an hour from us, we always make arrangements to stay the night just to enjoy their company without feeling the need to make it home before sleep or drunk drivers overtake us.

We were, in fact, just hitting the 3 o'clock hour and a possible bedtime when someone suggested we play a game called Balderdash. It's a great word game if you've never played; you have to try to convince people you know the meaning of a real, but very unusual word by writing a definition that sounds convincing…or at least, sounds funny enough to make the game fun. Usually, people become one of three types in this game: the funny definition writer, the simple definition writers or the complex definition writers. After a few minutes of game play, we already had established ourselves. We'd had quite a few of the goofy answers already, like "fungo--the green goo on the back of a turtle" and "bort--excess gas". For the record, however, I'm an amazing liar as well as a teacher, so I tend toward the creation of definitions too complex to be a lie, like "karbi--the sooty residue atop slate shingles after years of usage".

On that same round, however, another member of our party also came up with a definition. "Karbi--what a black guy says…dis kar bi mine."

Most of you hearing this did one of two things just now…snicker or laugh outright. I, on the other hand, was mortified and very trapped. Remember for a moment that I was the only black person at this table full of 10 other adults. Even my husband is white. The entire table swiveled to look at me while my husband gripped my hand with an intensity that was as powerful as my own at that moment. What was I supposed to say? What COULD I say?

A diplomatic quandary, though you may not recognize it. For I only have one true option in this situation and it is NOT the one I want. To do what I want means becoming indignant, demanding to know why this man, whom I only knew as a husband of a relative of a friend, would say something so insulting at this table with me right in plain view. How dare he say such things in my face, insinuating that a black man, such as my college-educated father or any of his friends, would talk this way? Jokes about people of any ethnic background are inevitably about their stupidity, which is why most people don't tell such jokes now. Sure, there are black actors, comedians, and regular folk who still use this humor to impress others, but maybe they haven't yet realized the dignity our people have lost while they get paid, or just don't care. Money can make a person that way, especially large amounts of it. I have even watched younger black children make these same jokes so that their friends will think they are funny, too, not realizing that they are being laughed at, not with, and I feel sick inside thinking of all this.

But in the eyes of my friends, I could see what was hoped for, even expected. Surely I would find this amusing! Why, only last week, Def Comedy Jam had a comedian using ebonics rather proudly and he'd been hilarious. And don't shows like "Martin" tout the same sort of ebonic pride? Surely I could be pleased that I would be part of such a broad tradition of humor! Besides, it was "just a joke"…why take it so seriously and ruin the entire party with a bunch of politically correct rhetoric? We can all laugh at ourselves here.

Many of you might be saying, "Nonsense! If I found something offensive, I'd speak right up and hang what others think of me!" But this is the catch .22 of being the diplomat. What others think of me is what others think of others like me they meet. Everything I say and do now reflects on everyone who looks like me later. This has become abundantly clear when children come up to me and want to know who my favorite rapper is, or why black people are so mean all the time, or when grown men and women still ask things like "Why are black people so loud?" or "Do you know Shanika? I used to work with her back in Dallas, and she's black, too…" Or even worse yet, when my own mother-in-law tells me that she cannot accept me because she was attacked by a mugger who was black.

And honestly, if this were the case, could anyone blame any black person for being irate with every white person THEY met? After all, one bad experience rules a great many white lives…why not mine? Why can't I take this one experience and hate or prejudge or, at the very least, have a real fear of any white person I meet? But what I usually hear in response to this is "Well, you just have to understand…"

Why? Why is it my job to be understanding and your job to speak out about what disturbs you without the irritation or disdain of others? Yet, just like the president, I cannot simply SAY how much I dislike something without global repercussions. I CERTAINLY can't ACT on my feelings, because my anger here proves that black people are a violent, or at the very least, an overly sensitive lot. But my silence or laughter only reinforces that it's okay to use this kind of humor and then nothing is learned at all. Never mind the fact that had this joke been about someone with a mental handicap, we would ALL have been indignant.

And so I sat for an uncomfortable second, with all this whirling in my head, my husband gripping my hand, because as a white person himself, he, too, wants to speak out and damn this man's actions…but I did what I had to at that moment.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I demanded. "Do you not see me sitting in the room here?"

But as I said it, I laughed.

And as I did, and the rest of our friends began to chuckle with me, a little piece of my dignity slipped away. My right to speak for myself was stolen by the adoring eyes of my friends who thought I was a great sport for laughing, even as I threw a notebook at the man's head and blinked back angry tears that no one but my husband saw.

On the way home (a trip which we decided to make 30 minutes later, despite our original plan to stay), both my husband and I ranted and raved about the "nerve of this guy" and how his leaving before us was probably to get home to restoke the ol' Christmas cross fire. But by the time our furor had died down, we were left feeling cheated. "I hate being reminded of my place," I told my husband wearily as I started to cry. He felt awful, of course, and tried to get me to understand that my place was not to be the brunt of someone's jokes. "No," I told him, "my place is to understand that he doesn't know any better and that he might NEVER know any better and just accept that. I am the ambassador. Welcome to my world."

As I sobbed, I realized in the back of my mind how hard this was for him. First, as a white male, he has never been denied his right to speak. He has even gone so far as to demand that shoplifters put things back when he sees them taking an item, so justice is his banner. As my husband, he has also never been denied his right to protect me. But once again, he was able to see how even his anger or irritation on my behalf would only have exacerbated the situation…and he felt just as helpless as I did, but certainly not as often as I have. In a way, that makes it harder, I suppose.

But he didn't leave it at that. The next day, my husband called our friends and told them why we left, explaining our feelings and our discomfort. I was against this at first, especially when I realized that NO one else at the table had thought twice about this. But not only were our friends understanding, they wanted to talk to me and thank me for telling them this, giving them food for thought and a new understanding. It helped to wipe away a little of the natural wariness that had arisen from this incident, so much so that I realized how many people really WANT to know when they've said or done something offensive and don't. Usually, the person they've offended leaves without saying a word or they, too are an ambassador and laugh off the incident, swallowing yet another distasteful public scene into their own discomfort. I was comforted to know that this is not always a thankless job. It's unfair and even painful, but not always thankless. SOMEone learned something from this…and perhaps in hearing it, you might, too.

I am actually one of the many African American ambassadors to the nation. I have diverted many a cross cultural mishap in my time, but please…don't thank me.

Understand me.

Speak for me when I cannot speak or am not heard.

And for God sake, don't just let me laugh…hand me a tissue.

Chasing Down Grief

2009-01-20T21:49:00.000-08:00

Well, it finally happened. I sat watching the inauguration today and suddenly realized that my little brother, Eli, will not be watching this and giving some kind of running commentary. Tears that wouldn't come at a funeral not meant for me and in the days since finally flowed unbidden.

For those of you who don't know, Elijah Eatman, a close friend of Kevin's and mine, was found dead in his apartment by his mother after going home sick earlier in the week. From the moment I moved up here and began to hang out with all of Kevin's friends, I put them into my extended family. I've never been this far away from my regular family, so I needed some folks to turn to. They were all into sci-fi, fantasy and anime, so we all became fast friends that helped each other embrace our inner geek. The Quinns, along with my nieces and all my students and, became adopted children, taking the place of those we couldn't have. Maureen, Kathy, and then Brandy became the sisters I always wanted. Chris and Darrin became like those cousins you rarely see, but love hanging with when you get them back into your life. Tom (another friend of ours and Eli's that passed two years ago from complications stemming from his kidneys) became my eldest brother, the gruff but lovable one who lead the family with his foot in your ass and his heart devoted to your soul. Darryl became my dreamy eyed middle brother, the one who always wanted to see everyone happy and would never harm a soul. Dean became my twin, the one born a few minutes before me and capable of more bluster and pride in himself, but (if possible) twice as much bluster and pride on my behalf. Drew became a younger middle brother, picking up Eli's goofy slack and getting us all into trouble as he joined our group of gamers.

And Eli was the baby, the one I had to protect from jibes and push in the right direction. Tom's departure set his feet truly on the path to independence, but he himself pulled on the bootstraps and got himself where he wanted to be. In not hearing from him, I was actually comforted, because I knew it meant he was finally okay. Even when he WAS over here, he'd lost the need to impress or defend himself because he was fully comfortable with who he was, despite what anyone else thought.

It took a while to grieve. I felt robbed at the funeral, cheated of my chance to release in such strange settings. Eli was a Muslim, so the women sat in the back at his funeral and weren't allowed at the gravesite at ALL. The men couldn't even touch the women, so African American males shook hands with my husband, but apologized to me and passed on. Kevin said it was odd to be treated like a prince by a group of black men while his black wife was shunned like a member of the KKK. After that, Kevin needed time to adjust and grieve himself, so, like all people who care for each other, my thoughts about the whole event disappeared as I comforted him in his time of need. Later, when he was coming to terms, it just seemed silly to cry over something I felt I'd already gotten past.

I really believed that I was okay up until now.

I'm sorry he's gone. I can't believe I won't get to tell those guys to "leave that boy alone, he's not doing ANYTHING to you" anymore, as if he NEEDED a defender. I won't get to burst into hysterical laughter at his rapid fire chipmunk laugh, correct his spelling, or remind him that, no matter what his family says, finding a woman to be with is NOT a necessity if he's happy. I won't get to see him eventually find that spooky anime loving horror movie going chick with the smoky voice and a dominatrix outfit in her back closet, behind her Hot Topic wedding dress and her "Foamy" t-shirt (yeah, I guess I've thought this through a bit!).

Mostly, I'm just plain old sorry for me. I wish I had more stories to share than this. Kevin knew Eli from college in the Anime Club and our other friends grew up together. I moved so much as a child that I never spent more than 3 years in any school before college (and even then, I went to 3 different colleges before finishing up at UNT). I wish, as I always do, that I'd had a history with all of my friends beyond what I've got now. God knows I'm grateful for what I do have with all of you today, but man, I wish we'd all been neighborhood pals and everything and could talk for hours about all the fun we used to have. I don't know if that would make me miss Eli less, but it'd sure feel more tangible than what I've got right now.

For my sake, I would appreciate it if all my friends would wait at least a decade before deciding to check out on me. Two in three years is a little much.

D.

Teachers Are Glorified Babysitters!

2008-12-27T10:58:00.001-08:00

So, I was thinking about the whole "teachers are just babysitters" thing again today and laughing to myself, especially when I thought of all the folks at home with their kids know who WISH they had that teacher working right now!

Frankly, my hubby has it right. If teaching is such easy money just to babysit, why don't more people DO it??? Just go out and get the 4 year degree (in which you do student teaching and learn how one tries to impart knowledge while "babysitting"), then sub for years on end trying to get INTO a district (while DEALING with the same kids who don't respect you because you're not their teacher) and then...teach! Actually try to MAKE children learn when they really want to do anything else, even just sit and VEG out rather than learn. And THEN deal with the parents who think you're just teaching because you're that mean teacher THEY had back in "n"th grade that hated them. Oh, and don't forget the general public who'll want to know why Johnny can't read later on down the road because all you did was "babysit".

As Noah once said to the Lord..."RIGHT!"

Let's break this down for a minute. Babysitters come in and go home. As a teacher, just TRY to make your work day just fit into the actual DAY. Babysitters do NOT have to take the kid home with them or grade them on how they did. And if you're thinking "Well, if teachers gave less homework, they wouldn't HAVE so much work at home to do" think again. When I go home, I'm not just grading. I'm doing lesson plans and checking to see where the kids are so I can adjust my lesson plans and finding new ways to present old material so the kids will actually ENJOY learning ('cause if they DON'T, they won't make it far). Every teacher I know carries work home with them, even on holidays and does it during free time. And we're NOT hourly, we're SALARIED, so it's EXPECTED we're doing this and that our salaries will cover the time lost with our loved ones.

Oh, and the holidays? Those times you think we have it easy? Those are the times when we're told to go to superintendent's meetings, conferences, and other places that AREN'T because teachers NEVER stop learning. There's always new ways to do things, new rules and regs to follow, new constrictions that prevent us from doing what it is we were hired to do in the simplest and most direct manner.

And have you ever dealt with a school bureaucracy? People at the top are kinda like the financial wing of hospitals. They sometimes forget that school really ISN'T a business. It's not about making kids and their parents HAPPY (although it's a nice side effect). It's about giving them what they NEED to survive. It's about making them into life long learners, people who understand that education is what makes us better than animals. Despite the separation of church and state, we still show children how to treat their fellow man by showing them the mistakes of the past, explaining how to take care of the future and letting them interact with other humans on a regular basis where they're CONSTANTLY tested on right and wrong.

As more and more parents try to be friends and not parents, teachers have become more like parents than anything. But we're GOOD parents. While we teach, we try to shelter and protect your child from the world around them. We know they may go home and deal with terrible outside forces and scary adult issues, but while they are with us, they are SAFE. Even in extreme circumstances, when other adults (even parents or family members) turn cold and frightening, or children become confused & angry and turn on each other, we assure your child that NO ONE can get to them while we are there. Every time we have any kind of drill, I remind my students of all the proper procedures, as well as tell them that "no matter WHAT, I will personally STOP anyone that tries to hurt you!"

And homework? Okay, admittedly some people go overboard, but isn't it possible that with all the ways the public demands that children be ready to join the workplace that it's NECESSARY? School is where you LEARN things and homework is to PRACTICE what you learned, just like anything else. And if you expect the same of your kids in a SPORT (going to practice regularly before you actually play the game), why be so shocked that your kids would do the same in the academic arena? We've read about parents who've threatened and literally KILLED to make sure their child got on cheerleading squads or hockey teams. Where's the same passion for something they'll need for the REST of their lives ('cause, I can PROMISE you, VERY few move on to professional careers in SPORTS!)?

And, really, folks, even if you think education did you NO good at all, can you GET the high paying jobs without going to school anymore? You literally HAVE to have a degree from a secondary school of SOME sort to stand out in the ever shrinking workplace.

Do you REALLY want to call the person who taught you to READ nothing more than a babysitter, then pay them pennies to do all that you expect of them?

Okay, since I've rambled on like a Seinfeld rerun, let me end with this bit of humor. Can't take credit for it, but if this is how the world feels, I have no choice but to acquiesce for the global good! :-)

Since school teachers are really just glorified babysitters, let's just pay teachers the going rate for babysitting.

Let's pay them $3 an hour per kid, and they work 8-4, with a half-hour lunch. After all, why should we pay them for 'planning' or to eat?

So that's 7.5 working hours a day, and an elementary teacher works with about 20 kids a day.

So $3 X 7.5 hours a day X 20 kids = $450.00.

And I'm sure not paying them for weekends (more 'planning') and I'm sure not paying them for summers off for 'training' or advanced 'education,' so really, we are only going to pay them for 180 days a year.

So $450.00 X 180 = $81,000.

And just to be nice, if you have a master's degree, I'll give you $4.00 an hour.

That means we are going to pay teachers/babysitters $80,000 to $108,000 a year.

And not a penny more!

You Know You're Getting Old When...

2008-12-20T19:51:00.000-08:00

This list started while watching the first item on the list and just kept expanding:

1. You watch Lindsey Wagner selling Sleep Number beds and are just as interested in what she has to say as when she was the Bionic Woman.

2. You're ALLOWED to stay up all night, but don't want to.

3. You DON'T have to take a nap after lunch, but you DO want to.

4. The sight of snow falling makes you think about scraping windows and shoveling, not building forts and making snowmen.

5. Your parents' house or grandmother's house looks smaller than you remember it.

6. You look at people you would have described as "hot" when you were 18 and wonder do their parents know what their wearing in public.

7. The idea of getting to drive to the pizza place, take the money inside and PAY for the pizza makes you feel tired, not grown up.

8. Running surprises you as much as it does your walking shoes.

9. You actually HAVE walking shoes.

10. You are more likely to be a spectator than a player in a pickup game.

11. You watch the love scenes in movies and actually understand them.

12. You can't get candy if you dress up on Halloween.

13. You're the one saying "When I was your age" and boring your children/grandchildren.

14. You actually have children/grandchildren.

15. You REALLY know what sex is (not just what your friends say).

16. Your worries about money involve more than just candy and video games.

17. You're more like Hook than Peter...and you're not sure how or when that happened.

18. You're mad that you can't find anything but anime & computer gen stuff on Saturday mornings.

19. When you watch tv, you spend half the time saying "Who's that?" and the other half asking "What ever happened to (insert 70's/80's tv star here)?"

20. You stopped believing that Saturday Night Live was funny about 15 years ago.

Well, of course YOU did...redux!

2008-11-15T16:50:00.000-08:00

Okay...I can now publically admit it.

I voted for Barack Obama!

Man, what a relief to finally get to SAY that! For those of you wondering why I kept it a secret, there's a ton of reasons. First of all, I'm a teacher, so I never tell the kids who I plan to vote for. They're always trying to gauge their own thoughts with my own and I want them to decide for themselves.

The biggest, though, was the subject of one of my earlier blogs and where the title for this one came from. I didn't want people throwing away my political opinion just because I was black. With some of the folks I know, just saying that I was voting for him would have made them decide to not listen to anything I had to say about ANYthing. They would have been disgusted, thinking I only voted for him because of his race and that "we all stick together".

This is patently NOT true. There are about as many divides in the black community as there are in the white community, so looking like someone does not automatically mean I'll be casting a vote for them. I was ready to vote for either of them back in the primaries, but in the end, I really just paid attention to what the candidates had to say and felt like Obama was the most likely candidate for CHANGE.

Watching the returns was amazing. I was completely overjoyed until I listened to McCain's concession speech.

And then, right in the middle, I started to cry.

All this time and I had truly forgotten that he was the FIRST (frankly, I forgot he was black at ALL!). He did such an amazing job of making this NOT about race that people of ALL races truly forgot. Personally, I really only cared about CHANGE, not making history or anything else. Even before I walked into the polling booth, Kevin nudged my elbow and whispered "Go make history." And it still didn't hit me.

But once I remembered, really understood, I wished that my (and his) grandmother had lived to see the day. My own parents (who never voted in their lives until 2000) even said they really had never expected to see this in their lifetime. Dad said he'd just never thought that far ahead. I liken it to the way one doesn't think of marrying flowers. It's not that they can't be pretty and sweet, but the idea of marriage to a plant just seems so farfetched as to never occur to you.

My favorite saying from all this was on a t-shirt:

Rosa sat so Martin could walk
Martin walked so Barack could run
Barack is running so our children can FLY.

Speaking of children, despite my attempts to NOT discuss my personal political views and stick to the basic facts of the American election process, this whole thing held my class in its thrall. I was so proud! Last week was NY Kids Voting, but I had NO info on the candidates. I was very disappointed because NO one should vote without finding out the FACTS about the people involved. So, without my telling them to, many of them went and did research on their own. When I mentioned that the US president is a world leader, one of my boys asked "How can we be so popular if our economy is so bad?" They kept asking great questions, so instead of sticking to the basics, we went deep into everything that's been hitting the US (war, economy, etc.). We even talked about what a patriot really is (ANYone who defends their country against outside influences). On Tuesday, we kept an electoral college map that refreshed every 10 minutes up on the tv with kid votes from all over the US. They were excited today when they checked the real map and saw how well the kids mirrored their parents in voting (which led to the discussion of why kids AREN'T allowed to vote).

Anyway, it's been one amazing race...now I'm just praying for the man's safety and hoping people aren't looking at me now and thinking I'm gloating. I'm not, I promise. I'm just glad to see that something NEW is happening. The world can FINALLY look at us and think we're good people again, not selfish brats that like to bully our way into whatever financially benefits us.

So, I'm all full of national pride again...and not in that "holier-than-thou-'cause-I'm-a-bigger-patriot-than-you" kind of way, either. Just the "glad-we're-back-to-normal-with-a-HUGE-sigh-of-relief" kinda way!

D.

On the heels of THAT...

2008-08-29T08:06:00.000-07:00

With all the wonderful racially insensitive things I've bumped into this summer, you'd think I never crossed the Mason-Dixon line back in 2001...!

Without going into too many specifics, I had another issue in which someone relatively close to me didn't understand my feelings about something that was blatantly stereotypical of African Americans. I was worked up enough about this to ask friends what to do and while some wanted me to just tell her off, the others were of one mind:

"Why bother? This person is obviously not worth your time, so ignore them. You can't change their views!"

But to that, I reply with the words of James Baldwin: "We are responsible for the world in which we find ourselves, if only because we are the only sentient force that can change it."

And therein lies the rub. Once it comes to something racial, it goes beyond my personal wants and into African American ambassadorship. Frankly, I'd LOVE for this person to leave me alone for the rest of our lives (and I felt that way BEFORE all this), but, if I go and hurt their feelings, they'll think "Black people are too sensitive about these things...they don't understand MY feelings." And NOW I've made it difficult for some other black person down the road. It's a chain effect that my generation and those before me pay a GREAT deal of attention to. We watched great men like Martin Luther King and learned that if no one tried to change the attitudes of the world, we ALL suffered. We needed to show gratitude for those who fought for our rights before us by continuing to change people's views wherever we went and set positive examples for those to come. So, none of us are comfortable just letting ignorance or stubbornness in race relations go. I have friends who became doctors and lawyers and other upstanding community members. For my part, I became a teacher and teach kids as they grow to treat everyone with respect, no matter what family members might say. It's a lifelong balancing act, saying what you think, but finding the right words and ways to say it so that you make a difference.

Honestly, there's just so much more to being darker skinned than anyone ever imagines. You become the channel through which other races and cultures learn...and it's up to you what they take from their experience. Most of you are blessed with the ability to be responsible for ONLY your actions. If you say something rude or make your point to someone, they can ONLY say "Well, (insert your name here) sure pissed me off" or "(insert your name here) makes a good point". For me, it becomes "Well, black people ARE just as violent as they say" or "Well, there ARE some good ones after all". People will genuinely base their experiences on their one or two friends/enemies of a certain culture or race. If I'm lucky, I meet someone whose mind I change so that they think of me as JUST me (or just think positively about the whole race so they can spread the word to friends). Since I don't know whether it's a lucky day or not, I play diplomat rather than take the chance.

Anyway, on the up side of all this is school. The first week of school is ALWAYS the promise of fresh young minds that will learn and pass information along to the next person they meet. It's like my own lifelong grassroots effort! :-) So, for now, I'm looking to the future and shelving the past...after all, it makes it easier to travel down the road of life when you look where you're going!

D.

Spanish Team on Offense AND Defense...!

2008-08-13T15:42:00.000-07:00

So I'm reading stuff about the photo the Spanish team did about the Chinese (the one where they do the slanted eyes thing) and I'm finding more and more people that don't understand the offense, here. So, let's put this whole "ethnic joke" thing into perspective, shall we?

Try putting yourselves in the Chinese players shoes for a moment. Picture how you've felt in school when someone made you feel stupid or look stupid, all the while laughing at you and getting others to join in. Picture the times that you've tried to fit in and felt out of place. Picture ANY time at ALL when all you wanted to do was blend in with others and not have someone point out how much you are NOT like them. This is how intelligent people of other races feel every time someone does another slanty eye joke, another ebonics joke or any other joke that makes their people look foolish.

I think the reason why many people are confused is because they can't fathom how a joke like that affects those people or reflects on those people, regardless of the intent. There seems to be a consensus in America that it's acceptable to make fun of another culture if you:

A) "don't mean anything by it" or say you're just joking (as in the Spanish photo
B) have done it long enough that it's okay to you or would take too much effort on your part to change (Ex--keeping the name Squaw in names of places or keeping offensive Native American images like the Cleveland Indians because so many people have a history with those things)
C) know a person or persons from that culture who will laugh with you or use the same words to make fun of a culture, which gives you license to do so (ex--"Well, my black friend says the "n" word, so I should be able to!" or "I know a ton of Chinese guys and THEY didn't mind!")

All of these are really just excuses to belittle someone else and make them feel like I mentioned above. Think about what you'd do if these guys had pretended to act like a person with mental disabilities or handicaps...we'd ALL be up in arms because it's considered rude. There is NO difference at ALL in making fun of another race or culture.

If you can take anything from this, remember this...just because a LOT of people have done it all their lives or think it's acceptable does NOT MAKE IT SO. After all, lots of folks liked slavery and backed the Holocaust...didn't make them RIGHT. And even if it's a joke to you (or you wouldn't MIND that same joke done on you), it's not always funny to the person who has to show people that they are SO MUCH MORE more than just differently shaped eyes, darker skin or a different accent.

Hope that helps...really! :-)

Kevin's new blog!

2008-08-09T19:28:00.000-07:00

Finally, he's computer savvy!

Kevin finally got tired of writing long e-mails and decided to create a blog of his own. He's an amazing write in his own right with insights that crack us all up (when we have time to read them in our inboxes)! So, without further ado: http://whineratthegatesofdawn.blogspot.com/

Enjoy!

D.

Days of Saturdays Mornings Past (Kevin's Interlude)

2008-08-03T00:00:00.000-07:00

Currently, I'm in Portland, Oregon for the Comedy Sportz World Tournament, so I've been without electronic sustenance for close to 5 days. While I've been gone (and ever BEFORE I left), my husband Kevin was been writing e-mails worth of blog notice. So until he decides to host his own blog, I've decided to post his ramblings here for everyone's enjoyment:

It's 7:00am on a Saturday morning. Daina won't get back from Portland until this Monday morning, so I figured that I'd visit an old friend.... Saturday Morning Cartoons. Only.... my friend wasn't there. Oh, there was something for kids 5 and under on PBS but that's ok. Long has PBS been the venue for the more junior execs of the Saturday Morning living room. Sesame Street, The Electric Company, The Great Space Coaster, etc. That's fine. I always believed the shortest of the shorties need orientation programs before they can understand the complexity of navigating the vast array of the more advanced viewing fare that they will face on Saturday Mornings. Rather than spend my time warming up with PBS, I decided to go right to the powerhouses.... NBC, CBS, and the venerable ABC. Now you're talkin'! These are the titans of Saturday Mornings! Who could escape their black hole strength pull on the eyes and minds of millions of Saturday Morning viewers across this great nation of ours.... who’d want to?

Ok, let’s just work up the channels then. NBC…Nbc…nbc… ???? Let’s check this remote to see if I’m on the right channel because this is the Today show. Hold on a second. The Today show DOES air on NBC! What the….!? Ok, let’s go to CBS then…. What the hell is Weekend Wake Up!? I’m already awake! I don’t need an hour-long program to tell me that!! Ok, ABC then! Good ol’ ABC! You won’t fail me! Long have you been the mightiest bastion of Saturday Morning Cartoondom! Who could match your unrivaled power when you drew the mighty sword of Warner Brothers? Hah! Animation! I knew you wouldn’t fail me! Let’s see….The Emperor’s New School? Ok, don’t be too hasty to judge, Kevin. After all, you really liked The Emperor’s New Groove. (30 minutes later) Ok, that wasn’t too bad. Kronk was pretty funny.

Quick check back with NBC….Nope, still the Today show. If I remember right, that damn thing is two hours long so there’s no point checking back with NBC until, at least, 9:00am. Hmm, CBS is still showing Weekend Wake Up! Well…yay them. Ok, then….back to ABC! The Replacements? Hmm, this isn’t based on that football movie with that thespian tour de force, Keanu Reeves, is it? Well, let’s take a look at it ‘cause…. (5 viewing minutes later) ….’cause I have to pass this channel on my way to another one. HEY!! What about WUTV!? The home of Astro Boy, Prince Planet, Ultraman, Battle of the Planets (G-Force), and the time honored Star Blazers! Ok, so what do we have here…Archie’s Weird Mysteries? Look, the Archies were, at best, a mediocre cartoon back in the day. And the only mystery with Archie is that he’s had two FINE-ASS women chasing him for what….four or more decades…and never tapped either of them! Supports my theory of Archie’s unrequited homosexual love for Jughead. They should move the whole gang out of Riverdale and drop them in Rivendell ‘cause Gimli would take Betty & Veronica into his bed chamber and knock something loose down there….he’d totally RUIN those chicks!!

Ok, it’s now 8:00am. The Today show is still going strong on NBC. On CBS I have a difficult decision…. Care Bears: Adventures in Care-A-Lot followed by Strawberry Shortcake. I lost the remote so I have a difficult decision on whether I want to keep looking for it or actually get up off of the couch and go over to change the channel! Here’s the real killer! On ABC there’s Good Morning America: Weekend Edition, which goes to 9:00am followed by A.M. Buffalo, then House Smarts, then back-to-back episodes of That’s So Raven, then Hannah Montana, and the torture ends with Suite Life of Zack & Cody. Great! More canned filth from Disney….Nazi douche bags! Which finds us at high noon where ABC launches into the delightful land of paid programming…You’re dead to me ABC!! DEAD!!

I was going to continue on with the rest of the morning up until noon when the kids should be outside playing by then anyways. However, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. NBC is pretty much adult programs until 11:00am where they have Jane and the Dragon. I’ve seen this show before. The story lines and dialogue are actually passable at times, however, there’s something in the CGI’d movement of the characters that makes you want to kick them until they’re all dead! CBS has Cake, Horseland (don’t ask me I don’t know but I don’t need to know), then Sushi Pack, Dino Squad, and Teen Kids News. YES….Yes, they’re every bit as awful as they sound. That leaves WUTV. Unfortunately, the fare on WUTV is little better than 30 minute animated commercial slots to sell the toys and cards that these cartoons are based upon. Remember, when cartoons use to come out first and then the related merchandise would follow….not the other way around? Let me give you an example. Between 8:00am and 9:00am are back-to-back episodes of a cartoon called Viva Piñata. Viva Piñata is a game for the Xbox 360 that eventually spawned (pretty accurate description) this cartoon of the same name. Here’s a brief synopsis:

In a garden on Piñata Island, a multitude of happy, colorful Piñata species live, frolic, dance, and grow. The goal of the piñatas is to fill themselves with candy, so they can be chosen by Piñata Central to entertain at birthday parties or retirement parties and other special celebrations. The piñatas have their own gardens and love to party. Each species is a blend of an animal and a sweet type of food.
It is here in the garden, among the burrowing Profitamole, the bovine Moozipan and the tree-swinging Cinnamonkey that we will find a small band of Piñata friends that have known one another since they were children when they first came to the garden.
Being a piñata means something different for piñatas. Some Piñatas can’t wait to reach their maximum candy level so they can leave the Piñata Factory over and over again, bringing joy to children and partygoers all over the world. Others are not happy about the prospect of being shipped off to a strange place where happy children in festive hats hang them from a tree, bludgeon them until their limbs fall off, and devour their innards. Still others physically train for the parties as if they were off to the Olympic Games — hardening their bodies to create a challenge for the children clamoring to get at their candy.
Why is it that Piñata Island is the only place in the world Piñatas can be found? Even the Piñatas don’t really know—but with so much happening in the garden, what with weird new Piñatas arriving all the time, crazed black-market Piñata poachers trying to muscle in on Piñata Central action, mysteries to solve, violent garden pests known as sours to contend with, and constant opportunities to dance—who has time to worry about it?

Yes, this is for real! Yes, I looked this shit up! No, I’m not feeling all that proud of myself at the moment! I feel the need to get into the shower and scrub my skin until it bleeds!!
Anyways, my point is that, Saturday Mornings are no longer the brief escape from the normal woes that accompany childhood. There’s nothing to look forward to in regards to Saturday Morning Cartoons. Can they still be found on cable? Of course, but that taints it somehow. I dunno why, it just does. Kind of like chasing that inexpressible dream that was out there somewhere but time has passed it by. Cartoons have no substance nowadays. Kids walk away from them with absolutely nothing or some cheesy lesson that their parents should have taught them in the first place. Cartoons are entertainment and an escape and even an enrichment! There are those who would say to me, “Aww, c’mon! Look at what you watched! How are you gonna tell me that, after watching cartoon characters like Bugs Bunny & Daffy Duck, that you came away with anything more than the kids watching Pokemon & Yu-Gi-Oh?” Easy! Bugs Bunny & Daffy Duck were my first exposure to Beethoven, Mozart, Rossini, Wagner, and many other classical composers. Hell, Daffy even showed me that you don’t always win. Sometimes life just plain sucks but you rebound and come back next time.
I guess I just got overly excited at the prospect of spending a quiet Saturday morning watching cartoons for a change. I’m serious….I was REALLY looking forward to this last night as I went to bed, each time I got up in the night to pee, and when my alarm clock this morning was a cardinal perched on the hemlock right outside my bedroom window singing in the gentle morning rain. This all came crashing down on me when I realized that the days of broadcast television’s weekly high point, the Saturday Morning Cartoons, a part of my childhood was gone. Ya know what? That just plain sucks. I guess I’ll just have to stand back up, brush the dust off, and move onto something else I really like.

Kevin

Happy Anniversary, me!

2008-07-17T19:58:00.000-07:00

On a completely unrelated note to my previous rant, today is the day I married Kevin. Details I remember:

It was insanely hot all week in Dallas, Texas, but the day of my wedding had a little rain in the morning, cooling things off to a nice 80 something. The sky was that beautiful clear blue and all clouds were gone by the time we got to the church.

Bikers came up and stared into the window of our limo at the reception before we got out. I offered to let them get in when I got out.

My parents invited TONS of their friends because I'm their only daughter and first born child, but most of the people that actually CAME were Kevin's and my friends.

Kevin Pohle, a friend of Kevin's and a groomsman, had his appendix removed a day before the wedding and couldn't be in it with us. Instead, we had Chris McDermott, the guy that Kevin and I met each other through. Kevin still made it, although he couldn't wear a tux. We took a pic of him showing us the bandage where they pulled the appendix out.

All my mom's brothers and sisters except for one made the wedding, and nearly all the cousins came as well. This was the first time in YEARS that we even came CLOSE.

My dad's father, who never made it to the wedding because he was bedridden, described my dress to my grandmother perfectly when she came home. The pictures of me in my wedding dress came MONTHS after he passed away.

I ate breakfast that morning. Kevin did NOT and informed the coordinator at the reception of this when she tried to get him to get up and do the first dance before he had his food.

I gave a happy war whoop as we left the chapel as husband and wife.

My dad made me laugh by telling me that Kevin's friend Joe had pretended to be looking for Kevin before the wedding, saying he'd seen Kevin peeling out of the parking lot earlier...

My bridesmaids sang "Going to the Chapel" to me.

My dad and I chose the same song for our dance together"(If I Could"), but didn't know it until right before. It made me cry...a LOT!

My brother was horrified at the thought of Kevin and I going upstairs for the honeymoon night.

The flower girl (my niece-to-be at the time) florally assaulted her great aunt with a handful of fake rose petals when she got to her pew in the church.

My dad got mad at the limo company for charging us for the full night when we just wanted to pay for the drive from the church to the reception hall. So, when the guy got ready to drive away, my dad said "Oh, no...we have you for the whole NIGHT, sir." Then he came in and announced to the entire room that they would be doing limo tours to Dallas and back all night. There were folks who never got to ride in a limo and never saw downtown Dallas at night that got to see BOTH, thanks to dad's ingenuity.

Anyway, all this only serves to remind me that my relationship with Kevin these past nine years (and even with many of you) is something that's remained a stalwart constant for me. My wedding day still sits in my mind as one of those great moments that I have no idea what I did to deserve, but am MIGHTY glad that happened. While I can look at those around me and see how they've changed, I'm far more amazed at how much things between Kevin and I have stayed the same. Despite having been around me for 9 years, he still seems to see me as his fair maiden (which is only fitting, as I see him as my deserving hero!).

Here's to another 9 years of marital bliss (bliss = all the stuff that comes with a real relationship, like arguments over street directions and laughing during romantic moments, illness, craziness and the other -nesses that happen in the real world)!

My Blue Period

2008-07-17T18:44:00.002-07:00

So, I came into school two days ago and the custodian told me they were going to repaint my room and the faculty room.

Now, before you get all excited for me, let me give you some background. From my first year in 1995 up until last year, I had a futon bunkbed in my room. This bed was my reading center, my reward for kids who did homework 6 days in a row and basically, the one thing that I've kept as my own in the many moves I had to make (2 states and about 6 different classrooms). I had even decided if the Highlander and I had a child, the bed would come home for them (silly, I know, since we'dve just gotten new stuff, but still!).

Last year, my principal told me I'd have to get rid of it because it was a fire hazard.

I was DEVASTATED. I begged him to let me keep it, but he said it had to be done, district rules. Honestly, I actually CRIED bitter tears in front of him because the one unifying piece of my educational domain was going to have to go. It also meant yet another piece of the babymaking project was going up in smoke. I ended up giving it to one of my students that had come a long way that year and felt, in some way, like it had practically gone to our "child".

Anyway, I went through a minor grieving period in which I needed to refocus myself into a new project. As a young teacher, I had always wanted to paint my walls black and put glow in the dark stars on them. As age mellowed me, I settled on painting it a deep blue one day. With the bunkbed agony still fresh, I suddenly had a way of reclaiming my domain. I figured it could be a sort of "rebound" bunkbed for me. I asked my principal if it was okay with him and he agreed I could paint it any way I wanted.

So, I chose the color (which is actually the same blue as the school shirt I'm wearing in my picture), bought all the materials and I spent 2 weeks on and off in the summer painting it with some of my kids. The room is EASILY 14 feet tall, so I had to stand on furniture on tiptoe with a roller for the whole upper half to make it work. This was also a second story room in a NY building with NO AC in the summertime, so there were days I thought I might lose it to heatstroke. When we finished, we signed our names in an inconspicuous corner and once again, my room was my own. All year long, people talked about how cool it looked and how it brightened things up, etc. Even my principal came around and admitted it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be when I said a "darker blue".

Oh, and an important sidenote: as I went around the district for different meetings that year, I noticed that other folks had sofas, chairs, pillows and all kinds of other stuff that would be considered a MUCH bigger fire hazard than my metal pipe bunkbed with the one futon mattress and one twin mattress. Even the teacher next door got her wooden swing from downstairs where it was going to be thrown out and brought it back into her room. I was the ONLY person who had to get rid of my "fire hazard". Hmmm...

This bring us back to the moment that our custodian informed me that the principal had told him to repaint the room. The custodian added quietly that "he" (pointing to the office) had NEVER liked the color. Only our custodian knew that this was basically a covert operation, since no one is in the building for the summer. I received no calls or messages...if I hadn't been in the building to pick up some summer school stuff, I would have come back to off white walls.

So, I charged downstairs, ready to rationally demand that my room NOT be changed, not when I had spent my own time and money on the whole thing. I planned to go over his head to the union or the superintendent if need be, since no one else's room was being painted My principal told me the same thing from last year...that the district wanted it redone and there was nothing he could do...

Things get a little fuzzy for me at this point, so let me give you more background while the me of 2 days ago slowly goes to the mental zoo!

For various reasons, my family and I moved quite a bit. I went to 11 different schools in my educational career (4 elementary, 1 middle, 3 high school and 3 colleges) and over the span of my life, have lived in 18 different houses/apartments across 6 different states and done more jobs than I care to count. I've even TAUGHT in 3 different districts over 2 states and done more than one program/grade level in each one. As you can imagine, I have some REAL deep seated issues with permanence and stability...!

So, how can I describe the conversation in the office AFTER my principal confirmed the repainting story? Picture this: tell a 6 year old that they're going to Disneyworld. Promise them this will happen, repeatedly for like a WEEK. Show them every Disney movie ever made in that week. Throw them a Disney theme going away party with all their friends. Pack up the car, get Mickey ears to wear on the ride down and even strap the kid into the backseat and turn the car on. Then tell them you can't take them after all, that you just made it all up. Now make that kid a 38 year old black woman that already has had to give up an item she treasured for the same reason. Oh, and did I also mention that my monthly visitor dropped in just TODAY?

So, back up to two days of PMS ago...!

I remember...LOTS of crying and hysterical breathing. I remember eschewing tissues for the backs of my arms. I remember bringing up very salient and logical debate points such as "but you SAID!!! You TOTALLY SAID I COULD!!!" and "You don't even CARE, you're just being MEAN for no REASON!" and "Why? Why would you DO this to me? What did I DO? Did I not TEACH right?" I definitely remember saying something to the effect of it being HIM that didn't like it, not the district and that he was "sneakin' around". I think I even might have said "It's like you're not my FRIEND no more!!!" I was basically just like the parents from this Burger King commercial, only a lot louder.

The one thing I know for sure was that my principal was in NO way ready for this from me. I'm the tomboy of my building, the easygoing one that could care less about fashion sense, cute stuff or anything related to interior design. I NEVER cry because I hate that place that crying takes me to and I hate that it wins arguments that SHOULD have been won with words.

This caught him (and, frankly, ME) totally by surprise. After all, he was all geared up for an argument, a man-to-man talk. Once the mental revolution began, he was able to get out one coherent sentence, which was "Well, I'm not in the habit of taking things from people." Everything else was cut off by my insane rant through the Halls of Fairness (where I believe I might have flung feces, lit the ancient tomes on fire and written the words "NO GOAL" in bright red lipstick on the statue of Blind Justice).

Anyway, 2 days and a sinus cold later (MAN, did I cry HARD!), my room is NOT being repainted. I've fully worked through my issues (translation: had ice cream and a hug from Kevin) and I believe my principal and I have reached a new level of communication and understanding ( despite the restraining order)!

D.

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow...

2008-07-01T15:15:00.000-07:00

So, I'm talking with Kevin and we're having that morbid discussion about what would happen if either one of us died. This becomes a bigger deal for me because I've moved away from my immediate family to live here in Western NY. I've lived here since 2001, and now we have the home of our dreams, but if Kevin was gone, would I be able to stand living here with nothing but memories of him to comfort me?

I'm also not the best at female relationships, so would I have a bunch of girlfriends around to help me through the rough patches? Oh, I know Kevin's family would be there (Maureen & Kathy are like sisters to me),and we've got lots of friends through letterboxing and gaming, but I never really hang out with folks at work or anything and aside from monthly hangout time, we never see any of our friends. Would that be enough to keep me in WNY? It's a strange situation. I think if I went HOME to my family in Texas for comfort, I would probably never come back. If my parents came up here to help me cope for a while, it'd be more of a 50/50 thing.

Morbid thoughts, huh? Still, I'm of the mind that if you TELL yourself you can't handle something, you won't be able to when the time comes. So, I'm not SURE, but I know I'll be able to move on...I'll NEED to.

In the meantime, we're both telling each other what Sam said to Frodo: "Don't go where I can't follow."

First bats and now a stake through the...palm?

2008-04-24T21:57:00.001-07:00

Well, medical fate strikes again. FOr the past few days, I've been cutting open tennis balls to put on the legs of my kids' chairs at school. Now, I know what you're saying...this woman is BRILLIANT! What amazing judgment she must have to think that cutting tennis balls open with a box cutter when NBC is running their Thursday night lineup is a GREAT plan! And you are RIGHT! I AM brilliant...if you expand your definition of brilliant to include "people dumb enough to stab themselves in the palm after being told by no less than 5 people on separate occasions that it would happen". If that's what passes for brilliant, then I'm a certified MENSA candidate.

Almost 2 and a half hours after the blood started spurting and I'm now sporting 4 stitches. I'm also required to go get a tetanus shot within the next three days (which means tomorrow with the show going all weekend), since they were out of them tonight. Yay smart people like me!!!

D.

Buffalo Comedy Sportz Improv-a-thon

2008-04-18T17:38:00.000-07:00

If you are going to be in the Buffalo area between April 26th-27th, come see me play in a 29-1/2 hour improv show with Buffalo Comedy Sportz (my first time with the troupe)! There will be food and drinks, prizes, and even a Chinese auction! All the proceeds will be used to send my team to the 2008 Comedy Sportz World Championship in Portland, Oregon this summer.

Also, I need pledges! You can pledge me per hour or just give me all your money (and I mean all of it). Email me directly for details.

So to recap:

WHAT: Comedy Sportz Improv-a-thon
WHERE: The Riviera Theatre, 67 Webster St, North Tonawanda
WHEN: April 26th at 4:00pm-April 27th 9:30 pm
WHO: Me and the other members of Buffalo's Comedy Sportz and YOU, our loyal fans
WHY: To send us to the Comedy Sportz World Championship in Portland, OR
AND: Give me money and get a genuine thank you!
PLUS: Chinese auction, yummy foods, drinks for the whole family, and prizes!

And remember, even if you don't live in Buffalo, you can still give me money and get that genuine thank you over the internet.

For more info, check the Facebook event here:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=10924904118

OR the My Space Event here:
http://events.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=events.detail&eventID=420517.82916&Mytoken=EB484BEB-2FA1-4B7A-AD9A11A9C775BCB414263861

UBCon!!!

2008-04-13T21:15:00.000-07:00

Well, we came, we saw, we gamed the whole !@#$ weekend!

UBCon (http://wings.buffalo.edu/sa/sarpa/SARPAWEB/ubcon.php) was AWESOME! Kevin goes every year, but I've had this pathological fear of gaming with strangers since middle school, so this was my first time. Frankly, if not for the fact that I was honoring the passing of a friend of ours a few years ago, I might not have even done it, but I'm SOOO glad I did.

Aside from our regular gaming group, which we did on site on Saturday, we got to game with one of the best, Nicolas Logue of Eberron campaign fame (http://www.sinisteradventures.com/) and he was seriously cool. It was like being in a movie with your favorite characters. He never ONCE looked down at a book, just ran things and went with the flow (which I loved). I played a pre-gen character for the first game with him, then he let me play Adrian Quicksilver for the other two, which was a ton of fun. Adrian has a habit of being dropped into worlds he's not ready for because people like the pitch of his terrified screams and the tone of his diplomatic, yet insistence pleading to leave the (insert favorite tentacled evil beastie here) in favor of a hasty retreat. At one point, Adrian was actually falling down a temple tunnel with the acid breath of a gargantuan black dragon surrounding him...and that was one of the CALMER moments!

Anyway, we had a ball, as did our other gamer friends because of Nick. Wish you'dve all been there, too...can't help but wanna share the wealth! BTW, if you want to see him in DM action, check him out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9MWwPi3py4 He's not quite as animated as he was for our games in this one (and his hair's shorter now), but he's still the schiznit!

D.

Odyssey of the Heart

2008-04-01T22:47:00.000-07:00

I know, sounds corny, but I had the BEST experience this year with my Odyssey of the Mind team! For those of you that don't know what Odyssey IS, check out their website and get a team GOING! (http://www.odysseyofthemind.com/) I personally have been the coordinator for the coaches and teams in my district for about 5 years now and even helped out with spontaneous for a while before that. This was my very first year as a full time coach and it was great!

Our team didn't place in the top 5, but WOW, what a group! They've been at this since September, all of them new to the experience, but did the best performance they've ever done in their lives and supported each other like true champions the whole way. We won in our regional tournament and went on to the New York State Tournament. We were like country mice in Times Square...everything was so big and glamorous and amazing on the SUNY Binghamton campus. They did the spontaneous event at a mind blowing 8:19 in the morning (mind blowing for folks like ME who couldn't sleep a WINK from excitement!) and did their long term problem in the afternoon. All day long, they watched other groups and were astonished with their presentations.

Finally, at the award ceremony,they sat holding hands nervously in a group at the awards (even the BOYS!). Worried about their feelings, I asked them "What do we do if we DON'T place?"

One of the girls said "Scream and yell for the teams that DO!"

I added, "Promise me, too, that no matter WHAT that we'll do the same thing whether we place or don't...we figure out what to do to make it better next year.'

They promised and DID JUST THAT...no crying scenes, no pouting fits, just good kids happy to have made it this far. We had pizza, talked about how cool all the events were, then went to bed, got back up and took our bus back to Lockport. Even the parents were wonderful! A bunch of them even hugged me and thanked me at the end, plus they gave the kids money to buy pins for me, the Highlander and the other coach (the cool blinky kind that I love that blind you when you look right at 'em...woo HOOO!!!)

I have TRULY been blessed, folks! :-D

D.

New Blog: Blinded By The Sprite

2008-02-19T21:20:00.000-08:00

Once again, at Walter's insistence, I've started another blog. This one is just for what he calls "my little rants about songs". Apparently, I crab about music enough that he's had time to CREATE a name for them, but he seems to like it when I do it and thinks the rest of the world might be similarly entertained. I pity any of you who actually agree! :-)

The title for this blog actually came from Mark (Wassamatta U) and Kevin both. Kevin was responsible for Blinded By the Sprite (which he woke up and said to me in the middle of the night and just wouldn't leave my head) and Mark had gone entirely insane using the words "verse" and "stanza" to the point where I HAD to take something he said just to make him take his Ritalin...!

Anyway, you can check it out and let me know what you think: (http://blindedbythesprite.blogspot.com/)

Sometimes, you gotta be stronger than you are...

2008-02-18T23:19:00.000-08:00

My dad told me this once, and I normally try to live up to it. The past month has been hard though.

Kevin's been in pain since...well, some type of heavy duty meds have been involved since 2004, but it started before that, even. The accident brought out some more complications, none of which the doctors can be clear on yet. They were offering him stronger meds, which he balked at because of the level of addiction he was afraid he was getting into. Meanwhile, I was trying to do whatever it took to keep him pain free, but hitting a wall when it came to the meds being upped because of his worries. He was getting depressed, I was getting depressed, detached and even angry by varying degrees, all which culminated in HUGE amounts of guilt.

See, it's a little scary trying to take care of someone for a tomboy. We pretty much have NO clue about woman's intuition, so if a guy like Kevin says he's fine, we believe him until he actually makes the pain noises. Then we feel guilty thinking we should have known better or felt some kind of natural urge to protect him or something, which makes us mad ("why didn't you TELL me you were hurting?" or "why'd you do that? It's just gonna hurt MORE!") and THAT leads to the guilt about getting mad at someone in pain.

After talking with him, I came to some heavy realizations about all this:

1. Kevin is actually suffering from CHRONIC pain, not just recurring bouts that have an ending. The pain for him is constant, and in varying degrees. It's not the type that actually gets better (at least, not as yet); there just seem to be good and bad days. This means it's NOT just mind over matter.

2. All Kevin is really supposed to do is sit or lay down and not bend his neck. This means his life is mostly tv and books/computer for a short period. It makes him feel useless and of no help to me as a man, but his independence and stubbornness about doing for himself leaves me with the same feeling as a woman. I know the doctors are right and I really need to make him NOT do things, but I have to keep in mind the destructive thoughts he has about not feeling like he can help me when I remind him NOT to try and clean/make dinner/do laundry, etc.

3. I can't hinge my happiness on how he feels on any given day, or else I'll always be sad and so will he. There are enough opportunities for him to be depressed about pain without me adding to the festivities! :-) It's actually okay for me to find ways to enjoy myself (Comedy Sportz, after school activities, etc.) as well as take care of him.

5. That being said, when I get overwhelmed with trying to be brave for him, it's okay to break down once in a while and cry. It does NOT make me a bad wife. If I don't, I'll get tight and wound up and won't be much good to him, anyway. Supporting someone through pain is taking care of their needs, but NOT wallowing in misery with them. I need to find ways to stay happy to keep his spirits up, too.

So, last weekend afforded me the chance to...well, cry. I think I needed it. I told my mom and she was just sorry it was so hard for both of us. I don't think it occurred to me that I was in a situation to be pitied, too. After all, I wasn't hurting. But, she said it's like being the parent of a child who's sick and you can't help. You're going through an emotional strain that can be just as awful as what the victim is suffering. She's right...your spouse really IS your baby when you don't have kids and I worry about his well being more than anyone else's I know, including my own. I had entirely disregarded my need to let go.

Yay, moms!

Next step...talk to her about where SHE'S currently going wrong. She and my brother aren't talking and I've woken up two nights in a row now with answers why and explanations that ought to be made. That'll take a COMPLETELY different blog someday, but not today...!

I WILL get a new blog going for something Walter suggested and Mark named...more on that later, too!

D.

Well, of course YOU did...!

2008-02-05T18:14:00.000-08:00

So, I threw my primary vote to Barrack Obama today. I felt so GUILTY, it wasn't funny. I snuck in there with that same self conscious feeling I get when I'm buying fried chicken in public, the same feeling that makes Kevin the buyer of watermelon in our house instead of me. I can't stand that sensation that people are looking at me going "Well, of course YOU voted for Barrack...he's black and everything!" Like I couldn't POSSIBLY be voting for him because I loved his speech at the National Convention or that I like his moderate attitude or because I think he's got a better chance than the others of wresting power away from the Republican Party.

Think this is a silly thought? While I was visiting Canada back in October, an older couple asked me if I was voting for Hilary or Osama (yes, OSAMA!) I laughed and said, "You mean Obama, right? Because that would be a VERY different election...!" Again, they believed I could only be thinking about voting for the black guy or the woman, regardless of their actual job qualifications. At the time, I was really kinda leaning toward John Edwards (out of defiance, I guess), but it was awkward to only be seen as being so one sided.

Anyway, I'm glad it's over for now. I'll have to wait and see what the polls say. Honestly, though, if it's between John McCain and Barrack Obama, I'll be happy with either one. I'd like to believe that Barrack would be forced into ushering in a new age of change, but John McCain seems to be just as bent on making his party better and has a history of being a maverick as it is. It all works toward the same goal, really.

Cars, pedestrians and other comedy sportz!

2008-01-19T07:53:00.000-08:00

Right, so this is more like 2 weeks in between posts, but in my defense, CQ was over here with Kitten and Falling Leaves and they were all...CQing and Kittening and Falling around, so we couldn't concentrate...so...yeah...!

Anyway, it's been a crazy two weeks, the worst of which came two days ago. I'm just gonna preface this by saying "No sprites, Highlanders or teenagers were harmed in the making of this incident!"

Kevin and I were in a car accident Thursday night. We hit two teenagers that we know through their families at school (I actually do an afterschool reading team with the mom of the passenger and had the little sister of the driver in my GT class). We were coming down the main road going home and the driver turned in front of us to make a left on our green light. When he saw us, he put his brakes on, so they slowed down instead of speeding out of the way (his insurance company later told us he was reacting to his girlfriend's scream when she saw us coming at them). We slammed our brakes and tried to avoid them, but there was no way to go but into their car.

Even now, it's like a bad dream where things NEARLY happen, but nothing quite comes of it. There were emergency vehicles everywhere and lots of broken car parts, but no hurt people...even the kids were fine. Our airbags didn't deploy, but the seatbelts were enough. I had this horrible moment where I thought the Highlander was injured, and another when I thought we'd hurt the two kids, but none of that came to pass. Our car was totaled, so a sheriff had to drive us home, but the rental people got us another car yesterday. And even though we had initial worries about this being a huge problem (two teachers hit local teens, or local kids fight insurance claim), the family accepted full responsibility and all our needs will be paid for. Heck, while visiting the doctor yesterday, we found out our favorite nurse hates her green 1995 Subaru Legacy (the EXACT car we totaled!) and would LOVE to trade it for our gas guzzling GMC Sierra that we've had off the road for months!

I guess the only piece of this that makes this real is that yesterday, we were both home and safe on a school day without some sort of debilitating illness being involved (you guys KNOW what I'm talking about!). We slept in and rested pretty well, so all we have is stiffness and my tongue being sore from biting it. I actually had a UTI that I should have stayed home from work on Friday for (and wasn't going to), and the Highlander (who's a sub and part time at a lab) has had no paid days off since...um, last year at this time when he was still considered full time at the lab! If not for the car being totaled, both of us would have been stretched thin at work and come home exhausted. Had it even been just a fender bender, we'dve had to handle all the insurance stuff while TRYING to work.

This whole episode has become a weird blessing in disguise, I guess. Admittedly, we're good and sore NOW, but still...it's the kind of day where you should hug the ones you love, call the ones you miss and thank God that you've got your health.

Anyway, I know this sounds weird, but I needed to TALK about this! The Highlander and I have rehashed the whole thing so many times now, it's not even FUNNY, but I still wanted to just...TELL someone. I'm not quite sure why, but I've noticed people tend to WANT to talk about really scary life stuff (like, I really WANTED to talk about my grandma when she passed, or when I rolled my car a few winters ago). I feel like some sort of morbid braggart, but it really helps to share it. Does anyone else get that feeling?

In less "holy !@#$" kind of news, I think I'm going to audition for Comedy Sportz in Buffalo. I haven't gotten to do much improv outside of my normal classroom goofiness lately (plus I've forgotten what a pain it was to drive into town and do late night shows...oh, wait...). Okay, STILL, I'm gonna try out. If I don't get in, no worries. If I do...I'll have to think about that part of it when it happens! Easier to say no after I've actually MADE the cut than to never try at all, right?

Oh, and I've been WALKING! I've actually been getting outside and walking the streets trying to earn extra money for...no, wait, that's KEVIN! I'VE been walking for my HEALTH! :-) I realized how crazy it was to get upset at my mom for being in shape and not condoning the lumpy middleagedness that is myself and decided to do something about it all. Kevin's neck has been bad, so he hasn't been walking EVERY day with me, but he INSISTS on following me in the car like some kind of stalker! :-) I've convinced him to at least go up a street instead of trailing behind me so that the neighbors don't run outside and try to confront him while dragging me to their porch for safety!

Anyway, we've gotta get to the hospital to get Kevin's neck X-rayed (just to be safe). I'll throw some more down later...!

Our 2007 Holiday Letter (in worse format than the original!)

2008-01-01T10:41:00.001-08:00

Happy Holidays 2007 From The Burkes!

About 10 years ago, Kevin and I met each other playing a game online. There were, at the time, over 1500 people playing that game at any given time during the day and I was already closer buddies with one of his friends. Neither of us was looking to do more than play a game and have fun with our free time, yet somehow we ended up together for life.

You’d think THAT would be a constant reminder that things always happen for a reason…!

Life is really funny sometimes. Last year was a year of loss and change, but somehow, as I write this fifth holiday update, I’m surprised at how we gain when we accept that we lost. Too many events have happened this year to remind us of this. For starters, our picture this year wasn’t taken on our anniversary (which we mutually decided to skip to work summer school). This picture was taken at the wedding of a close friend of ours, someone we might not have been reacquainted with if not for the passing of our friend Tom Hollis.

Last summer, we lost my grandmother Lucy Rollins, but almost exactly a year later, my brother Eric breathes new life into our family by marrying Antra.

We braced ourselves for more lean years when Kevin decided to go back to teaching (even went so far as to decide to let go of the house if needed), but found that a HUGE part of the pain in his head and neck came from the stress of working at the lab. Now that he’s been subbing all over the county, we’re finding we don’t go through as much medication to keep his pain at bay. Coupled with the gas saved in going to work together, we’re actually SAVING money.

We were late to a student’s basketball game and felt we’d really missed something important, but arrived at a crossroads just in time to witness a terrible car accident. Had we been on time to the game, we wouldn’t have been there to hold the victim’s head and comfort him until help arrived. The experience became even more real for us as later that same day, another accident happened at the same intersection and a life WAS lost.

Even the song that we chose to mark our anniversary, “Solsbury Hill” by Peter Gabriel, turned out to be prophetic in more ways than one. I was listening to it while driving Kevin home from his myelogram. He was so worn out and tired looking from his 6 hour ordeal that seeing the sun shine on his face and hearing the words “Grab your things, I’ve come to take you home” really hit me hard. As it stands, it’s also a song about letting go, taking a risk to reach for your goals, despite your fears.

The name of the game this year, then, is faith and perseverance. Obviously, we haven’t STOPPED trying to do what needs to be done to survive or to help others, but we can see there’s no point in worrying any further about whether things will all work out. More importantly we know better now than to worry if they will work out the way we WANT them to.

So, while life here is never perfect, we’ve learned to accept a few basic truths:

Wherever you are is where you need to be at that time (even if you’re late to work or a basketball game).

Do what you can to make things happen (God bless the child that’s got his own), but remember to thank God for those unanswered prayers, too.

Stop waiting for the other shoe to fall…if life will take a wrong turn, it doesn’t need your pessimism to guide it in!

Love and support each other in your dreams…and always be ready to grab your loved one’s things and take them back home.

Have a wonderful 2008!!!

From Kevin & Daina

So, thanks to CQ...

2007-12-31T10:24:00.000-08:00

...I've been goaded into blogging just normal stuff...again!

The last time I said I'd do this, Enchantress got me to start messing with Live Journal. The problem is, I ALWAYS have tons of time on the holidays to post, but not during the rest of the school year. So, my New Year's resolution (along with starting Weight Watchers again and reducing my roleplaying time) is to post once a WEEK instead of daily. If I can do that, I'm happy. Of course, for the next few days, I'm going to move my Live Journal stuff over here, so it'll look like this wasn't the first day I posted. Rest assured, THIS is my first blogger post for this board!

Soooo.....

Today's going to be our traditional New Year's Eve fare for Kevin and I. We're going to go into Brockport and get the fixin's for sushi, along with some sparkling grape juice, then come home, make it, watch the ball drop and kiss. We started this tradition a few years ago when we decided to no longer go anywhere for the holiday. The Brockport part came in because I LOVE Wegmans' but driving into Williamsville is the antithesis of holiday fun and joy. Brockport is just as far from Medina and we get a beautiful back country drive through Orleans and some of Monroe County that way. With the snow on the ground again, it'll be a perfect little winter wonderland.

Am I the ONLY person in WNY who misses/loves snow? I realize it's become a pain for most of you (window scraping, driving and shoveling and all), but it still holds its magic for me (probably because I still get school snow days!). Nothing makes me happier than seeing the ground coated in flakes with the sky all steely gray and swirling with those huge lake effect flakes. In fact, as far as me and sprites go, I think Kevin is right. I'm a snow sprite in the winter, but I DO change with the seasons. I become a leaf sprite in fall (for obvious reason), an air sprite in spring ('cause I love that breath of fresh air the spring brings and all the smells of the world coming back to life) and a pine tree sprite in summer (because evergreen trees are where I seem to default).

Too much weird for you?

Okay, back to normal tomboy stuff. I actually DO care about whether the Patriots win the Super Bowl. Kevin loves them and since the Rams are out and baseball isn't back yet, I'll go for the winning team today! Also, I just heard they're televising the Ice Bowl tomorrow and I'm SO watching this! How cool is it that the Sabres and Penguins are gonna play outside??? It'll be like a real pond! :-)

Oh, and I finally finished my holiday letter for 2007. It'll be on it's way to everyone in the new year (once I print up enough copies), but I'm posting it here for you guys to read (check my next post).

Well, I think we're getting ready to head out to Wigglemeyer's...if I don't hear from anyone, have a great New Year's Eve and an even better new year!

The Sprite

Solsbury Hill

2007-07-18T18:10:00.000-07:00

Last night (July 17th) was the Highlander's and my 8th anniversary. Even though we ain't got money (there's a song in there somewhere), we've sort of developed a tradition over the past 5 years that I really enjoy that doesn't cost us a thing.

Back on our 3rd anniversary, I put together a list of songs that really represented our entire relationship history up to that point (the high tech version of the tape of songs couples used to make for each other back in high school!). I put them into a playlist on my Musicmatch program, then, in the Notes section, I wrote a little blurb about each one. For example, the first song is "Boy From New York City" (since the Highlander lived in New York and I was in Dallas when we met). I wrote:

Kevin Burke, bachelor farmer, super uncle and generally laid back guy. He works all day, goes out on weekend nights, hunts during the season and sleeps when his body tells him to. He's out of the race for the right girl and has decided to enjoy life the way it is.

Poor bastard...doesn't even know how miserable he is! ;-)

When I first did this, there were 10 songs for the first part of our relationship, where we met online and really fell for each other. I used songs like "Take A Chance on Me" by ABBA and "I Just Want to Hang Around You" by George Benson. Then there's another 10 for when we met in person and things initially went sour because SOME dumb sprite was too afraid of commitment. I had some pretty sad songs there like "I Don't Know How To Love Him" by Helen Reddy (from Jesus Christ Superstar) and Please Mister Please" from Olivia Newton-John (on that one, I began with "Once you've reached the country music phase, you're missing someone too much!") and the last 10 for our amazing reunion and the two more separations afterward, all the way to our finally being together permanently. That part ends with "At Last" by Etta James and "Our House" by CSNY.

Anyway, it's become habit to listen to this set of songs on each anniversary. We read the blurbs all over again and sit and talk about where we were, how we were, and even WHO we at that time (plus we usually dance to our favorite ones). It had sort of become a musical timeline of our lives between 1997 and 2002, so for our 5th anniversary, I decided to go back and add a song for each year we'd been married. I already had songs up to the 3rd anniversary, so for the 4th, I added "You Just Can't Smile It Away" by Bill Withers (the song we danced to our first night in our new and VERY empty house) and the 5th was "As" by Stevie Wonder (where I began the blurb with "Our 5th anniversary...and now we're old enough to find meaning in obscure Stevie Wonder songs!") The blurbs have become longer each year so that I'm now writing short letters to go with each song and just adding it to the list. The list itself I've finally put into a Word Document so we can read it while we listen to the songs.

Which brings me to out 8th year...

This year's song was" Solsbury Hill" by Peter Gabriel. It was the song playing when I drove him home from the hospital a few weeks ago (he had a myelogram done to see what was wrong with his neck), and we were REALLY scared about it. Everyone told him how bad the pain could be and he put it off for months. So, as I looked over at him looking all worn out and tired, with the sun shining in on him, I was so overwhelmed that I suddenly had to just thank God for letting my hubby come home safe and sound. The song just wouldn't leave my head, thought, so after researching it a bit, I found out it's a song about changing your life and being ready to lose what you have for what you might get and just letting go in general.

That's been a HUGE thing for us this year...we had to choose to give up our home, most certainly gave up our pride, our personal and physical comfort and many other things, only to find out that fate had other things in mind. We gave up the house, only to find a last minute option that let us keep it and got us back on track financially again. The Highlander gave up working at the lab to sink everything into trying to become a teacher and we discovered that, even though he made less, we actually saved some money in not having him drive clear to Buffalo, plus he was SO much happier that we spent LESS time at the doctor's in pain. Because of the pain, we both gave in and decided to do this myelogram in the first place, knowing it meant he'd be in horrible pain for a solid week, but found out it wasn't as bad as we thought. We gave up any hope of having a child, only to discover how important the kids we teach have now become to us, as well as each other. And about 10 years ago for the Highlander and 6 for me, we both chose to leave our homes and families to live with the one we committed out lives to (he moved down to Texas where I was and we both moved back up to Western New York where he was from).

Sometimes you just have to give up your comfort zone to move on to the next big thing in your life.

And through all that, we've had each other. He's been my silent, stalwart companion in the storm, keeping me calm and centered when I thought I might crash on the rocks, while I've gone and STARTED storms for him, being his lightning and thunder when he needed someone to speak up on his behalf or to get him motivated. Each of us has been there to protect and care for the other.

So, what have we learned in 8 years? Life isn't always what we planned, but when you feel like you're "in a rut" or "part of the machinery" and you have to let fate take over, I hope each of YOU has a person like I do that can come to you, give you a hug and say:

"Grab your things, I've come to take you home."

Wild Kingdom After Dark

2007-06-27T22:03:00.000-07:00

So, the other morning before work, I'm looking out out big picture window and admiring the view when all of the sudden, I see these 3 squirrels going nuts in the yard (and not the "food gathering" nuts, either!). They're going crazy all over the yard, so I start describing things to the Highlander:

"Oh, honey, you gotta see this! These squirrels are jumping all over each other...they're all rollin' around and then they get up and chase each other to another tree...oh, man, that one nearly pile-drove that other into the dirt! (laughter) Okay, they're running past the oak now...that one keeps trying to jump on the other...actually, both of those ones are...well, that's not exactly...huh...(tilting my head sideways)...okay, not sure this is just playtime now...ohhhh...okay, if Snoop Squirrelly Dogg comes out of the other tree and asks anyone to show their fur, that would just complete this whole scenario."

Just as I'm realizing I'm actually watching Wild Kingdom After Dawn, I look over and and see the most bizzare thing I've ever seen. A long time ago, the folks who used to live here put a stump upside down near our little patio area and it overgrew with tiny vines and such so that it's a natural seat (although in past years, the termites have about worn it away). It's about 2 feet high so you can imagine my surprise when I see a full grown groundhog sitting ON TOP of it. His back is to me (about 8 feet away) and he's WATCHING THE SQUIRRELS!!!

Seriously, I did NOT want to know what else that groundhog was doing.

Later on, I saw this video on Yahoo. http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=687851&fr=&cache=1 Honestly, if that groundhog had turned around and looked at me like this (with the music and everything), it would have just made the entire MOMENT!

Which reminds me of another animal tale that I gotta share!

Back when I was doing the GT program in my district, I had my kids doing a research project with a PowerPoint presentation. The 4th and 5th graders had to research their dream job, including the college to go to, the classes, the volunteer opportunities, etc., while my 3rd graders got to do their favorite animals. It was a combination of learning computer usage and research skills, so it was a fabulous higher level activity. Anyway, one of the 3rd graders chose to do her project on whales. After doing the research and all the typing, I let the kids surf the net and look for pictures to add to their presentations. This little girl came up with the picture from this article: http://urbanlegends.about.com/library/bl_blue_whale.htm

She NEVER noticed it, but had it in her presentation. I came by the DAY BEFORE we were supposed to be showing these at the district open house and had to swallow my heart when I saw it. I think I said something along the lines of: "So how's it gooo-ohhh-uh-oh...ing, hon?" Since she didn't notice and no other kid was paying attention, I just said, "That's a GREAT pic, but I think we can find one less grainy, don't you?" Then I QUICKLY opened the Explorer screen, found a pic she loved even better and told everyone to take their bathroom break while I cut and pasted the new shot, thus saving my life and career in one fell swoop.

Hmm...maybe all these animals are just trying to show off for ME! I'm the Animal Copulation Whisperer! :-O

Gox Box Sox

2007-05-12T14:23:00.000-07:00

Well, I just went out and got the mail today and lo, there in our box were gox box sox from dbltall, along with the brand new Gox Box Sox HH (here's a pic of them at the Woolrich catalogue http://www.woolrich.com/CGI-BIN/LANSAWEB?WEBEVENT+L3D74537A45138000EA4303U+PRD+ENG)!

I was laughing like an idiot until I actually put them ON!

Oh...
...my...
...GOD!!!

These sox...I mean, SOCKS are AMAZING! They are SOOO on my list for boxing wear (and daily wear, really...after all, we're in upstate NY, where Winter goes for the winter...and summer...and spring break...and the vernal equinox...!). First, they're the right color (I LOVE blue and those wintry sweater type patterns). Second, they're merino wool, so they're warm AND soft and have this delightfully cushy feel to them everywhere I walk. I'm walking around barefoot in them now and making sounds that the Highlander normally associates with a different room of the house! And finally, they're MINE! Muhahahahahahhaaaaaaa!

I'm telling you, I'm going online to get more of these because I will TOTALLY PAY for this kinda sex...I mean, SOCKS! :-)

School Daze & True Love

2007-04-05T22:32:00.000-07:00

I just gotta tell everyone what an awesome day Kevin and I had at my school. He's been subbing for folks in my building (including me...gotta love having the inside track on your kids when you're gone!), so we've been getting to hang out with each other at different points during the day. It's great because he's finally happy doing something he enjoys and I get to see the glow on his face all the time!

But today was a full day of pretty much everything I do that makes me proud to be a teacher. This morning we did our simulation of the Underground Railroad, where my 4th graders act as runaway slaves and every classroom in the building agrees to act as "stations" to harbor them (the cafeteria is Canada). We do a ton of journal entries on it and they have to answer a question from our chapter on the Underground Railroad to even get into the stations. I made this game up in the car on the way to school four years ago and now all the buildings in our district have done it at least once.

After lunch, we did our 1st Annual Retro Talent Show (thought that one up after listening to JACK FM on the way home a few months ago!). All the people that wanted to did a dance, lipsync or some other act to a song from the 70's or before. We had a bunch of kid acts, a group of parents who sang Movin' On Up for our 5th graders, the whole 5th grade doing Ain't No Mountain High Enough, me in the lion mascot costume as my class sang "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and nearly all the teachers did the Locomotion, which we did twice to get everyone out of the auditorium and back to class in time to pack up and leave at the end of the day.

Meanwhile, the kindergarten had their Easter parade right before the show; our principal, who was the MC, couldn't make it from his meeting at the board office until literally the last possible second before the show started, so the school band played Louie, Louie like 6 times waiting for him to start the show (thought the horn section was going to pass out!) and every class in the building was attempting to have some brand of Easter party at once, so kids were walking around the school handing out cupcakes and stuff while being all hopped up on sugar and general excitement before a week long Easter break.

And you know the best part? My hubby got to see it ALL. He had a half day in the afternoon for the 2nd grade class, so he helped be a "bounty hunter" for the slaves in the morning and taped the whole thing while sitting with his class in the audience that afternoon. Everything I do that I love and he finally had a day to be part of it.

They say that when you marry someone, they really don't become your WHOLE life. You merge your lives and share them with each other. Kevin means the world to me, but we both have things that make us who we are independent of each other. Getting married just means you get to share that with each other, which is the real blessing. :-)

Racism Rears Its Badly Dressed Head (again!)

2007-03-18T21:39:00.000-07:00

This actually happened back in 2005 when I first started My Space, but I forgot to post it here...seems like something quite a few folks need to think about!

Here's the one downside to My Space...watching totally normally people go completely to the mental zoo just because they're connected to you online and you can't see them in person.

So one of these goofy kids (that only picked my profile AFTER I changed my pic from the maroon coat one to this one) has the nerve to ask me why a "blk" woman as fine as me is wasting her time on a white guy! Okay, first of all, you have to go check out young Jason's profile (not the one I still have on my friends' list, but the one kid from Ohio). How does any kid dressed like Tupac the Musical have ANY right to tell me what is and what isn't a waste of my time??? Here was my reply:

Oh, honey...I hate to ask you, but who do you think you ARE??? :-)

Have you any idea how insulting this question is? How would you feel if some white guy asked the girls you've got listed as friends the same question? Is their association with you a waste of THEIR fine whiteness or something?

You post some pic lookin' like Thug Lite, then pop in and tell me how good I look, THEN you want to tell me how I'm wasting MY life??? Seems to me I read in YOUR profile that you HAD no racial preference...plus, the only black girl on your profile IS me, so what's the deal? It's obvious from your pic that you aren't looking for much more than a warm wet hole, so why does it matter to you where I get my real love from?

I really had hoped for a little better from you and was giving you a chance to show you were a young brother with a mind, but I guess I should have known you had a shallow streak when you added me to your friends list because I was "fine". What my husband and I have had for the past 9 years is something beautiful that I don't expect you could understand, despite your claims to be educated in your profile. Has it occured to you that that kind of "playa" talk is EXACTLY what's turning young men like yourself into soon to be lonely OLD men? There's not a black woman in the world that'll put up with that kinda talk...I mean, does your OWN mother appreciate hearing that's she's fine and that sort of thing?

Furthermore, it's a LOVE thing that he and I have, not a lust thing. I didn't know WHAT he looked liked when we first began talking and I'm glad I didn't now. I would have missed one helluva a man (in more ways than one, playa) if I had gone on mere looks.

In this day and age, you need to ask yourself are you really concerned about racial integrity, or are you just playing the same game that old men of all colors seem to play...the "they can't fuck OUR women, but we can fuck THEIRS" game. Neither one makes you look too bright, just bigoted.

Take me off your friends list, hon...I gotta play deeper than looks, okay?

Now, Kevin thought this was pretty funny, 'cause he knew I was going to give this boy an earful (plus for him, the comment was too stupid to even take notice, like someone calling you Lucy from across the room in a really mean voice), but I'm not sure which is sadder, the fact that the poor kid thinks I'm somehow diluting our race or the fact that there's a LOT of guys who think the same thing. They can't do OUR women! Now, I'll hit any skins that run by, but those OTHER guys...THEY can only do their OWN race. The more things change, the more they stay the same...

Forgive me, but I'm blown away by what passes for depth on these sites, I swear. Does everyone come to these sites to hide who they really are or to make themselves feel better than everyone else? It's like high school all over again!

Political Chain Mail???

2007-03-18T13:44:00.000-07:00

So I recently got this as one of those chain mail things:

A lady wrote the best letter in the editorials in ages!!! It explains things better than all the baloney you hear on TV.

Her point:

Recently large demonstrations have taken place across the country protesting the fact that Congress is finally addressing the issue of illegal immigration.

Certain people are angry that the US might protect its own borders, might make it harder to sneak into this country and, once here, to stay indefinitely.

Let me see if I correctly understand the thinking behind these protests.
Let's say I break into your ho use.
Let's say that when you discover me in your house, you insist that I leave.
But I say, "I've made all the beds and washed the dishes and did the laundry and swept the floors.
I've done all the things you don't like to do.
I'm hard-working and honest (except for when I broke into your house).
According to the protesters:

You are Required to let me stay in your house
You are Required to add me to your family's insurance plan
You are Required to Educate my kids
You are Required to Provide other benefits to me and to my family
(my husband will do all of your yard work because he is also hard-working and honest, except for that breaking in part).

If you try to call the police or force me out, I will call my friends who will picket your house carrying signs that proclaim my RIGHT to be there.

It's only fair, after all, because you have a nicer house than I do, and I'm just trying to better myself.

I'm a hard-working and honest, person, except for well, you know, I did break into your house.

And what a deal it is for me!!!

I live in your house, contributing only a fraction of the cost of my keep, and there is nothing you can do about it without being accused of cold, uncaring, selfish, prejudiced, and bigoted behavior.

Oh yeah, I DEMAND that you learn MY LANGUAGE!!! so you can communicate with me.

Why can't people see how ridiculous this is?! Only in America ...if you agree, pass it on (in English). Share it if you see the value of it.
If not blow it off......... along with your future Social Security funds, and a lot of other things

This is the kind of stuff that just makes me sad. Americans really have no clue sometimes. We just think everything is just ours and we have no sense of responsibility to anyone but ourselves (and not even always ourselves…how well do we take care of those suffering in THIS country?). We think of ourselves as decent God fearing Christians and then we say stuff like this, forgetting that God did NOT just create us, he created a whole world of people around us that he loves just as much.

Rants like these are basically the pot calling the kettle black. You gotta remember, at some point, we ALL broke into this particular house, which originally belonged to Native Americans (with the exception of Africans, who basically got dragged along for the break-in and told to stay put!) :-) If we go by this editorial, then what we've done is broken in to the front room of the house, then slowly but surely moved into all parts of the house, forcing the owners into the basement. We slowly killed off most of the members of the owners family and got upset when they fought back, then rewrote the rules to exclude others from breaking in, too. We took ALL the benefits and all the opportunities and didn't leave the owners anything but our leftovers. Sound fair? I think if we were willing to essentially recreate the rules for our ancestors, then we have no choice but to do the same for our children. Otherwise, we need to go all the way back and correct the original problem and ALL go home to whatever country of origin we had and let the Native Americans deal with how their Mexican neighbors react.

Plus, it's always amazing to me that we're willing to help people in other countries escape starvation and tyranny (heck, we'll fight for them and bring them food free of charge and EVERYTHING), but we're not willing to let people right next door come over and actually WORK for the same benefit. If we're going to play pick and choose, why not pick and choose to the greater benefit?

By the way, a recent news article mentioned that the KKK was getting all new membership because of people who agreed with this sort of stuff (http://www.bizjournals.com/phoenix/stories/2007/03/12/daily25.html?from_rss=1)

Always nice to hear that evil’s benefiting from our natural greed and stupidity…

Herobia

2007-03-14T00:45:00.000-07:00

WHAT THE HAPPY HARPY HADES is THAT ABOUT??? WE GOTTA WAIT UNTIL APRIL FOR MORE HEROES???

SERIOUSLY!!!!!!

The Highlander was immediately like "They're gonna lose viewers like this. Who the heck is gonna watch it THEN???"

That's when I sighed and said, "We are and you KNOW it."

God, we're so hooked...I swear we're going to need rehab after this...

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Do you experience moderate or severe depression when the show goes off?
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Do you unconsciously shy away from cheerleaders, Japanese tourists, clock repairmen and Haitians?

If so, you are one of the millions of people who suffer from Herobia. However, there IS hope...

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Connection...

2007-01-19T23:39:00.000-08:00

I'm delighted to say I have talked to my grandmother more times in the past two months than I have talked to her in the previous 37 years.

Alright, that's probably a major exaggeration, but I really am happy about it. My dad's mother is the one family member of that generation that I could turn to and say, for better or worse, that I am VERY much like. I have her ability to tell a story as well as her ability to stretch the honest truth. I possess her desire to take care of people, which also leads into that secret desire for others to return the same sort of affection. She and I both talk a good game and don't ever seem to STOP talking. I could go on and on, but when I look at her, I see all my heritage, the craziness, the love of those long wild trips to the coast, the need for social interaction and the sudden need to be alone with a good book (and the need to be alone so that someone can say, "Come be with me instead of hanging around here alone!") I'm all those things wrapped up in a shorter, darker skinned package (except the hair that I added on, which I did take off later, but I REALLY still like the picture!).

This all started when my mother's mother Lucy (the one we called Granny) passed. Granny was the serious one, the grandmother that made you listen to her and made you behave and didn't give you everything you wanted, so you grew to love her later in life. My other grandmother, Lula (Shug, as we called her) was the "fun" grandma that bought you things and gave you money and never really spanked you until she'd just lost it. Between the two of them, we had a full parent when we went to visit. Shug would play with you and Granny would do the disciplining.

As we got older, we started to really understand Granny more and heard less from Shug, who was doing a lot with other family members that were ill or needed support. We began to appreciate the effort that Granny had put into us as much as the fun that Shug had had with us. My parents (who were in better shape financially as my brother and I got older) started having Granny fly in for visits more often while Shug was out of town with her brothers and sisters. I created a different, but equal strong bond with Granny that stemmed from her connection with her daughter and my understanding of that circle. But Granny had emphysema and was in and out of hospice for quite a while in 2006 until she finally stopped eating and slipped away at the end of August. I think a little piece of all of us went with her. My mother, of course, lost her mother, but my father lost a close friend in Lucy, and I lost a connection to quite a few things, not the least of which was understanding the place I hold in the continuing mother-daughter cycle.

Meanwhile, Shug, who had always been in supremely good health (walking miles was never an issue for her) was losing her independence after having fallen and hurt herself some months before. When the younger Granny passed, Shug suddenly realized that time was slipping away from HER, too. The family members she'd nutured and taken care of had began to pass on or, in the case of the younger generation, leave her behind the way we tend to do with our older relatives. We stop listening, stop coming and then stop caring.

Living farther away, I was able to appreciate both women and what they meant in my life, so I was constantly inviting them to my home and visiting when I could afford it. Granny could never have made it to my place (she was VERY allergic to cats and her emphysema wouldn't have let her do more than stand outside this home) but Shug always had reasons. They usually consisted of someone else that she had to go help or be with and it took me quite a while before I realized why. She spent her whole life doing for others in the vague hope that they would someday do for her. It made her feel good to help other family members and people, but it also made her feel needed and therefore loved. I don't think she really knew what to do with a grandchild that only wanted to have her come so she could enjoy her company and take care of her, not force her to cook or watch children or even get out of bed if she didn't want to. Kevin and I were more than willing to let Shug just BE here and share with her the places we loved. Even when we went to see HER in Florida, I think it was a shock to have us washing dishes and feeding ourselves and even buying her a new car battery and changing it out when it died.

Anyway, she came to stay with us for the Christmas holiday and we had a ball. We didn't even do something every day...there were days when we all three just sat in the house and read books to ourselves, but didn't say a word to each other. We hauled her all over creation when we DID go out...took her to the wildlife refuge (where she and Kevin just about married each other in their love of the outdoors and the wildlands!), we took her to Toronto for a two day trip and we even drove her around town to some of the closer places to look at (being Native American herself, she marveled at the two refuges within driving distance of us). She REALLY wanted to see snow, but in a bizarre twist, the Buffalo area had no snow the last few weeks of December.

And now she's calling us about twice a month. It's really nice hearing from her, actually. It's this connection to my past that I really am starting to treasure more and more now that I live so far from my family of origin. She did show me one thing while she was here that I found incredibly upsetting. Because of her health issues (bad vertigo, major hearing loss and even some memory issues) she'd made up a little card that she was very proud of. It said "My name is Lula (last name omitted here) and I live at (address omitted). If I am found, please contact my granddaughter in New York at..." and then she had listed our names and addresses, as well as my cousins in our hometown and all the other pertinent info needed to make sure she didn't end up lost somewhere. At 5'8", my grandmother had always been this imposing, yet friendly Amazon of a Native American princess to me. To see her suddenly reduced to...well, a senior citizen, was nearly more than I could stand. She wanted me to tell her if it all looked good and would make sense to a stranger that might read it and I had to tell her a story about something in my eye while Kevin read the card for me.

I had a tough time for a little while after that...I FINALLY had her, only to realize I was that much close to losing her. Funny how just when you think you've got all the pieces of the puzzle in place, you suddenly look under the rug and find some TOTALLY different piece that obviously fits into the same puzzle and you have to readjust...

Still, I'm glad to have her back in my life and I hope we get her back up here once more. Nothing in the world is funnier than a grandmother who can tell terrible stories with your husband...not sure which was worse, his dried apricot story or her fresh coconut story (for the general jist of both stories, try eating your fill of either of these and see what happens)!

Glurge and Christmas Cards

2007-01-06T20:01:00.000-08:00

Glurge is what the Urban Legends website calls any of those heart wrenching stories that people stuff your e-mail box with. Each story usually ends with something like "and that little handicapped boy grew up to be...Winston Churchill" or "and that small act of kindness saved his life all those years ago" or "So cherish these moments with your loved ones...you might not get another chance"!

This would all be well and good if not for two problems. First, these always end with some huge guilt trip, like "You can keep this and pretend it meant nothing to you or send it on to others and make a difference", or "I love you enough to send it to you....will you send it back to me?" It almost FORCES you to send it back to someone like your boss or someone you really might NOT be that close with (not unlike Christmas cards!). Worse yet is the ones that flat out TELL you that it's a chain mail, completely destroying ANY attempt at being a life changing, sentimental note. Real affection would be shown by you calling me up and telling me this story, not by forwarding it on and on to other e-mail addresses. Trust me, I won't think less of you for keeping this gem until we get together personally! :-)

The second thing that makes these hard to stomach is the fact that EVERYONE sends them over and over as forwards to tons of friends instead of copying it into a more personal individual e-mail or at least adding a personal note to me to explain why you sent it. This falls into the category of Christmas cards, too. I don't mind when folks actually WRITE in their cards, but when you just send me a card with nothing more than a quick signature, especially when I have heard from you in months or more, then I know that I'm just another one of the folks on your card list. I don't mind the family picture cards ('cause those update me visually on how you are) and general holiday newsletters (because those give me info, too, even though it's for everyone and not just me). Heck, I can even take e-mail cards, as long as you SAY a little something in them. But Christmas cards with a quick "Love, the Franklin Family" just end up in the garbage later. They're like chain e-mails...I'm on your list, so I get one, but other than that, there's no real thought in them at all

So, how do you get around this? Don't send me the whole story. E-mail me (or call) with your summarized version of the story so I know what YOU got out of it. When my students bring me a book report that pretty much just has the exact Cliff Notes version of the book, I give them an F. When they personally tell me what they thought of the book and what they got out of it, they get A's. It shows they took the time to really understand the story and that's what make other kids learn from it and want to find out more. As adults, we could do the same. If you really want someone to benefit from an uplifting story, don't chain mail it. Relate it to that person you care about and they'll relate a LOT better to you.

Canadian boxes everywhere and not a box to find!

2006-12-28T20:54:00.000-08:00

Well, we went clean up to Toronto this week and TOTALLY skipped the 6 letterboxes in town, as well as didn't plant one while we were there! Argghhh!

We have a good reason, though. My dad sent us my grandmother from Florida and money to show her a good time and we've been doing just that She's been up here visiting us for a few days now and just having a ball. She's 83 years old and recovering from a spill she had in February, so she's moving slower than usual, but she's keeping up the pace pretty well, with the exception of stairs. While we were in Toronto heading to the subway, she was coming down stairs and going one step, one step, one step, etc. when all the sudden, this OTHER old lady, shorter than her and older, comes flying down the steps past her! She gave this lady a look so crooked as to be mistaken for a jealous 5 year old! I look back at her and, like a mom, tell her in a gentle voice, "It's NOT a race, honey," before we both crack up laughing.

She's also where I (the Sprite) get my goofy sense of humor from. We were sitting on the sofa all relaxed after that long trip to Toronto when Foggy (our youngest cat) jumps up on her lap. She tries to pet her, but Foggy can't sit still when you pet her unless you MAKE her, so she's doing her little ADD dance all over her while Shug (my grandmother) tries to make her happy. Finally, she goes "What is WRONG with you, cat? What do you WANT?" in her little soft Southern accent.

I pipe up with "She likes it when you scratch her more than just petting her."

She says "Well, now why didn't you just SAY all that, cat?" and starts doing it.

Meanwhile, Kevin (the Highlander) goes, "You know what she DOESN'T like?" With a totally straight face he goes, "She doesn't like it when you attach jumper cables up to her ears and attach her to a battery. She doesn't like that at ALL." I laugh to beat the band, but Shug looks at him all serious and we're thinking "D'oh, we went too far."

Finally after looking at him for an uncomfortably long moment, she says, "Exactly when was the last time you TRIED something like this?" Kevin is about to say he was just kidding or something and she adds, with an equally straight face "She might LIKE it now!" as if enough time has passed that our cat might ENJOY being electrocuted!

Man, I LOVE the way the nuts just float to the top in my little gene pool! Apples really don't fall too far from the tree! :-D

Anyway, at some point we really WILL get back to boxing, but for now, I think I'll hang out a bit more with the granny and get back to you all after the holidays. In case we don't hear from any of you, have a great New Year and enjoy those shirts!

My Underoos Shame

2006-11-12T18:39:00.000-08:00

Alright...it's time I came out of the toon closet...

Like the commerical said, Underoos WERE fun to wear and they WERE something super new in underwear. I had not only the Supergirl Underoos, but the Wonder Woman ones. Now, the Supergirl ones just had the red panties with a pic of Supergirl on the shirt, but the Wonder Woman Underoos were the full deal...a red tank top shirt with the golden bird on it and the blue panties with the big white stars. Seriously, the only thing stopping me from looking like was Wonder Woman was not having the crown, the lasso and the armbands (oh, and being a 4 foot something 11 year old African American girl instead of being Lynda Carter, but other than that, I was a dead ringer!).

Did I mention I was 11 years old?

Anyway, my mother commanded me to NOT wear these under my clothes at school and I was really bent out of shape that she would say this. She was forever telling me I couldn't do things without reasons why beyond "Because I said so" and I was CERTAIN this was just one more in the series, since wearing Underoos was what all 11 year old girls did (forgetting entirely that all girls my age were begging to wear makeup and training bras, not racing boys on their bikes through the neighborhood).

After a long battle which ended in my tears and her not wavering, my dad came in and tried to convince me that if I wore these to school (especially since I had to change for gym that day), the girls at my school would definitely laugh at me. I still wouldn't buy it, so my dad sighed and said "Okay, go ahead, hon. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Remember the tampon scene in Carrie?

Okay, picture that (girls coming from all over the locker room to point and laugh), but without the tampons and blood and stuff and THAT was the scene when I busted out my Underoos in the locker room that day.

Years (of therapy) later, I've come to realize that parents sometimes DO know what's best, but 11 year old girls DON'T.

After all, what but sheer jealous rage could have driven those girls to be so mean? ;-)

Know how to protest?

2006-07-06T12:23:00.000-07:00

One of the boards I post at got into the normal 4th of July heated debate over flag burning ('cause seriously, what board DOESN'T have some yutz coming out strongly for or against it on Independence Day so everyone gets all pissed off???) Somebody posted this, as if to end the whole debate:

"We all need to remember that our liberties are only ours until they infringe or offend others!!!!"

So, I replied with this:

Actually, that's NOT true. Being offended by something is not enough to make it legally stop BECAUSE of freedom of speech. That's why the KKK is allowed to recruit for members on the sidewalks of of several different states to this DAY and I can't do a damn thing about it. It's also why other people are allowed to protest AGAINST the KKK sitting on the sidewalk until they get embarrassed enough to leave.

However, the moment the KKK decides to burn a cross on my lawn or somewhere else where I can see it, it's a threat of violence (based on what it's always meant in the past) and THAT'S why it's against the law, just like what Booknut said about murder not being under freedom of expression. That's why hate crimes were put into law, not because they would offend other races & creeds, but because there is ALWAYS the threat of real violence involved. Burning a flag is offensive to some, but it has always been a symbol of nonviolent protest.

I think the problem in America is that we always want someone else to handle our business rather than confront it ourselves. Somewhere in the 80's, we stopped going out and protesting ourselves and starting demanding that the government step in for us. If you don't like flag burning, why not just go up to that flag burner with a whole bunch of your friends and peacefully protest against it? Or, heck, TALK to this flag burner and see what he's thinking! What if this flag burner was someone who'd fought for this country and been forgotten? What if this flag burner had lost family in the civil rights movement and still sees discrimination in his America? What if this flag burner is a Native American whose heritage and dignity have been entirely stripped by the "American dream"?

America simply doesn't offer the same comforts to everyone and it CAN'T, not by laws, anyway. Too many people have different attitudes and opinions to force them to think your way just by taking a vote and passing a bill. You CAN, however, move LOTS of people with numbers in non violent protest. It takes more time and effort, but anything worth doing is worth doing well. Our whole COUNTRY is founded on the belief that you can protest...remember, most of us came here out of protest or fleeing from OTHER countries that REALLY wouldn't let you have your say.

So, stop waiting for your government to help you...get out there and give those you disagree with a reason to believe in what you say...go make eye contact and talk about what ails you and listen to what ails them, if you're REALLY this upset. Posting to websites in an overzealous way only aggravates tensions and makes no real difference in anyone's approach...just strengthens their resolve to keep their own opinion safe.

In which case, it's probably pretty stupid for me to have posted this anyway! :-)

Then they came back with this part:

Most Vietnam vets I know are dead-set against desecration of the flag. Their country sent them there to protect the freedoms we take so casually. What they were angry about was those folks who didn't give them the respect that they deserved for DOING what their country asked.

So, I replied again with this:

Conversely, most of the vets I know were angry that their country sent them there in the first place because they didn't feel they were protecting us or our rights at all and they lost close friends and family over it. On top of that, there was still less respect given to vets of color at the time and more likelihood they would be sent to the front line, so there's a whole other level of problems inherent with that. Oh, and let's not forget the wars in which Asian Americans have helped out, only to have their families thrown into internment camps. No one can be right or wrong about their personal experiences with this country and what it's meant to them.

It really still reinforces the point I was making...we only meet a limited amount of people in our lives, so we don't always get the full picture of what America is. We've had just as much to pat ourselves on the back for as we've had to kick ourselves in the butt for in this country, so not everyone who lives here has had the same positive feelings about this place. Still, it's all part of America and what that flag stands for, even (and especially) the crappy parts. Just because we know a bunch of people with a certain opinion, we can't claim right or wrong on what America means and what the flag stands for for others. With the good comes the bad.

So, you COULD look at a flag burning as being the burning of what's negative, not what's positive about this country...then you'd have to find out why that person burned the flag and what made life in this country bad for him/her and address THAT need instead of the surface offense of flag burning. Imagine what good we could do in this country if people did that more often...found out WHY a person did something and helped them through that pain or injustice before condemning them for the act alone. Now THAT would be an America to always be proud of!

Haven't heard a thing since! :-)

Vanity, thy name is EXTENSIONS (or some other hair thing!)

2006-07-04T19:52:00.000-07:00

Okay, I don't see how it's possible for ANY woman to not become entirely focused on a mirror when they do dramatic changes to their hair.

As a rule, I usually avoid doing things like makeup, pushup bras and coloring my hair because I like to look the way God intended me to look (we'll see how well such free spirited hippy thoughts last me into my 60's and 70's when the line between boobs and knees blurs heavily, but for NOW...!). I get my hair relaxed because I can't do anything with it when it'a all thick in its nature Native American/afro style, but that's really about as far as I go.

Until last week.

Last week I went to my hairdresser (whom I adore so much, I created a stamp for her) and she had a ponytail. Now, most black women really can't get their hair that long, but I'm dumb enough to believe anything (being a hardcore tomboy), so I'm like "Oh, cool! I so want my hair to get that long so I can do the "Marsha, Marsha, MARSHA" thing Jan does in the Brady Bunch."

She laughed at me and went into her psuedo-commercial voice: "Well, now you, too can have the hair of your dreams...just BUY it!" Then she pulls the hair out...and it's added hair! I'm not up enough on all this glamor talk to say if this qualified as extensions, a weave, whatever, but it was very natural looking and really cute...which meant immediately that I couldn't do it because I can't KEEP things looking cute for more than a day after I leave the shop.

She was really onto the idea of my having one, though, 'cause she told me how easy it was to care for and how once I bought the hair, it was mine, so I could do anything I wanted with it. Once it started sounding like a fun dress-up thing instead of dumb girly-girl work, I started warming to the idea (and before I could change my mind, her assistant rushed out to buy some hair).

So now I have this ponytail that makes me look more like the Native American side of me than the African American...and it really does make me look skinnier than before. I like the way it looks, but now I SWEAR I can't pass a mirror without playing with it! As it stands, I tried on every outfit I liked (lingerie included!) to see the effect with longer hair. I'm thoroughly ashamed, totally self abosrbed and I DON'T care. Like Narcisuss, I could DIE in front of the mirror, so long as the hair sweeps gently over my shoulder in a sort of sexy "come hither while I DIE" sort of way! Kevin isn't helping 'cause he actually likes the way it looks, so he'll let me come in with some new outfit or hair position for the ponytail and "ooo" and "ahh" appropriately.

See, THIS is how it starts! First, it's just a little extra HAIR, then it's a press on nail or two and the next thing you know, I'll be selling my body for extensions and collecting barber shop clippings to make new bangs to replace the ones I'll fry off with the gold highlights I'll have tried to add in myself...AUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!

I can't stay...I gotta go (sigh) brush it out again...!

Reeling In The Years

2006-06-29T22:43:00.000-07:00

I just realized something about my past...I don't have folks to share it with.

Let me make sure I don't make anyone feel like crap here...it's not like I don't have friends and a wonderful husband to tell my story to, but none of them were THERE! Like I can't turn to Kevin and say, "Hey, remember how we used to have bike races up Taos Drive all the time?" because he wasn't with me when I did it. My younger brother was there, but his memory's not that great anymore and he wasn't involved in most of the stuff I did, except during the summer. Those fond memories of school that people have...I have some pretty limited ones. Most have to do with starting a new school, turning into a minor social pariah at that school and limited memories of folks that DID talk with me back in those days. (sigh)

I think if I had lived in the same area longer, or kept contact better when we moved, I'd at least have the ability to remember the better moments instead of just the rotten or the really strong memories. I mean, as good as I like to believe my capacity to remember things is, there's something to be said for having friends to rehash that info with. If you do't retell it a few times, you kinda forget how it happened, or you forget it entirely.

Which brings me to my latest discovery...I've found some more folks I hung out with back in high school as of late. Early in my late 20's, a few people found me online and told me that they were sorry we hadn't been better friends, but they thought I was nice and hoped I was doing well. That kind cooled my hatred of school life to at least a level where I started to think that maybe I had more friends than I realized. Now it seems the folks I'm connecting with are actual people whose company I DID enjoy, so I'm getting a little taste of that "remember when?" feeling.

It's really cool to hear things that you lived through from another person's point of view (like I love listening to Kevin's talk about how he and I met!). It kind of rounds out the view you had in your mind and almost validates the experience for you a little...like, "Yeah, that really DID happen!" Even more weird is seeing that I wasn't as big a social pariah as I thought...I just didn't have the world's best opinion of myself (which has totally changed because I am AWESOME now!) LOL

Anyway, so much for the "woe is me" part...I think I'm going to spend a bit more time this summer actively seeking out high school classmates so I can reconnect with my own past...after all, it apparently didn't suck as much as I thought, so what the heck! :-)

Three Ring Medical Circus Update

2006-06-09T18:41:00.000-07:00

So many of you have inquired about our well being and sent us words of encouragement that I thought I should update you all on how we're doing. A few months ago, we were being told that our first pregnancy (after trying for 5+ years) wasn't working out and that we'd have to scrap everything and start over. Needless to say, it was a rough time, complicated by work troubles for both the Highlander and I (him missing work days because of the two herniated discs & stanosis in his neck and me just not enjoying my work the way I used to). Money was tight and our situation looked like a Dickens novel for a while (full of misery, woe and longwinded explanations!).

However, things have improved considerably. We left our fertility specialist Dr. Sperazza (who was a evil sprite-wing plucking brownie/troll), then had a successful and very easy D & C procedure to start all over again. We tried to go to another doctor, only to find out that he was retiring. That would have been enough to sink the ship if his nurse hadn't heard our story and told us we were one of MANY couples that had left Dr. Evil...er, Sperazza. She gave us the number of a wonderful nurse practicioner in our area who's taken us in without any delay. We'll start the process over again within the next few weeks!

Kevin (the Highlander) will FINALLY get to see a neurosurgeon about his neck at the end of this month, but the crippling pain he was having earlier seems to have gotten better after doing some of the physical therapy they recommended...in fact, I seem to have pulled his neck back into at least a tolerable position during one session, so he's been able to take less heavy meds and go to work.

School's almost out and I'll be returning to a regular classroom in the fall, so my world will go back to its normal 4th grade predictability again. But, as Dorothy says "If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!"

Anyway, thanks again to all of you who sent us kind words, gifts and other support to help us through the rough patch. The sun is peeking out again and we're seeing light at the end of the tunnel because of wonderful folks like you to lean on!

Baby afterward

2006-04-11T20:07:00.000-07:00

Wow...

I can see why at age 36, I'm not supposed to stay up late anymore. I'm actually hung over from lack of sleep.

For those of you following the story, the crappy doctor is out of our lives and now so is the baby (via the surgery I had this weekend). This is not a bad thing...in fact, it's probably the biggest relief in my world right now, aside from going back to the classroom next year.

Before we did this D & C procedure, I had another ultrasound to see if Dr. Sperrazza was actually wrong, but I have to admit...no matter how wrong he's ever been about attitude and bedside manner, he's NEVER been wrong about a diagnosis. The ultrasound showed nothing there anymore (no baby, just a little yolk sac that the baby would have been attached to), so I finally decided it was okay to do the D & C and get everything out of there. Had there still been even the smallest little fragment of a person, it would have felt like an abortion of my firstborn and that would have been too hard to take.

Plus, I think this actually made it so I could understand what all the doctors were trying to tell me. Even though I was pregnant and we were all calling a baby, it wasn't really a baby yet. It really was cells that had started to develop, but (because God likes to be merciful) didn't develop because the sequence of chromosomes and all that wasn't right. Had I had a baby, it would have been something cruel and unusual, so my body did what it was supposed to. I ahve no idea how long it would have taken my body to get rid of everything on its own, but seeing as how that would have meant a VERY heavy period with VERY bad cramps, I was all ABOUT surgery!

Had it done Saturday EARLY (went to bed around midnight, got up at 4:30am to be at the hospital at 6am to have an 8am surgery) and because of the drugs and such, I'm still in a weird sleep schedule. I didn't go to sleep until almost 4 last night, but I got up at 10 again. So now I feel really off, but that's almost gone, too.

Anyway, more to post once I get back on the normal sleep wagon...!

Three Ring Medical Circus

2006-03-14T18:39:00.000-08:00

Well, it's more official. We've been told the baby isn't developing and that we should get rid of it using a D & C procedure. We told many of you about this on the New York boxing boards at AQ and Yahoo, but the part we haven't talked about has been the insane doctor we've been dealing with.

The man has been an insensitive lout from the beginning, blowing off my questions when I ask them (as in "what should I be eating?" and he gives me one news article on not eating soft cheeses), minimizing any pain or discomfort I've told him about (I told him I thought I had a hernia, which to this DAY still looks like a Super Ball sitting up under my skin near my pelvic join, and he told me we "can't worry about that right now, hon"), completely downplaying any hope that we get ("oh, those pregnancy tests can read false positives quite a bit...don't read too much into that, honey") and, finally, telling us we needed this D & C ("Yeah, I don't see a heartbeat today, so let's try again on Friday and schedule a D & C for next Tuesday."). Oh, and CALLING ME HONEY! He lives WAY too far above the Mason Dixon line to get away with that!

The first day of all this recent trauma, it took 3 people to find the baby, my ovaries were so swollen and sore, and when they did find it, I was crying openly in pain. He suggested a second ultrasound and the D & C in the same breath. The second day (when we had the ultrasound and could see that the yolk sac had gotten smaller and KNEW we were in trouble) we decided we'd had enough of his treating me like a thing and decided to talk to him about it. At first, we were just going to go to another doctor for the D & C, but the nurses suggested we talk to him about how we felt instead. "He needs to know he can't treat people this way!" one of them said. "And you're not the first to say it about him, either!"

So, when we sat in his office Friday and tried telling him that we really needed him to be a little less blunt and abrupt with us (after all, we've tried for 5 years and he knows how hard this must be), we weren't attacking him. We didn't have it IN us to attack him with all that we knew about the baby. Even still, he jumped to the defensive and said, "Well, I can't change my personality and if you two decide to quit, then shame on you for not continuing this process."

No, really, he actually SAID that! We hadn't decided to quit at ALL, we just wanted him to understand our discomfort and were asking him to be gentle with us.

I flared up and said, "Or maybe GOOD for us that we'd go and find a doctor who'd treat me like a human being with feelings instead of a defective machine!" He basically blew that off, too and acted like our problem was with the D & C, not his ever-so-delightful bedside manner.

Well, after that, we went to our regular OB/Gyn and after the office staff said she wasn't in, they called her at home to tell her about what was going on. She actually met with us on her day off at her office! She did what he should have done...she told us that 40% of the first pregnancies are lost and that most women don't even know it, told us about chromosomes and how things really had to be JUST right to make sure the baby would turn out right, and most importantly, that we did NOTHING wrong. Honestly, you guys, I thought I had killed the baby myself with pizza the weekend before and by lifting heavy bags. Kevin thought he should have been more vigilant about my diet and what I was carrying.

"If it were that easy to get rid of a baby," our OB/GYN smiled, "don't you think there'd be a run on junk food and heavy bags right now and a considerable lack of abortions?" And, just like that, we knew she was right and we actually both smiled. All that confusion with the doctor and what we really needed was a minor therapy session! I cried and she hugged us both and told us to change doctors right away. "He's getting paid enough to at least be nice to you," she growled.

So that led to yesterday (Monday). Kevin called and asked to change doctors in a polite way. The office person said she couldn't do that and directed us to (horror!) the SAME doctor. Kinda like having a rape victim talk to the rapist about their difficulties, really! Anyway, Kevin let him know that it was not a personal matter, we just understood what he said about not being able to change his personality. We couldn't do that, either, and we just wanted to find the least stressful way to handle all this. We thought we'd be doing him a favor by asking to switch to one of the other doctors in the office.

The guy LOST it! "Well, we doctors have rights, too! We don't need to be stressed out, either!" I wasn't on the phone, but my husband said he couldn't believe his ears. I mean, WHO CARES what he was feeling about this? He has pictures of his 4 beautiful children all over his office and we've tried for 5 years to get ONE, only to run into him and his "feelings". Plus, when we first talked to him on Friday, that would have been a GREAT time to fix everyone's hurt feelings, but he wasn't willing to do that...couldn't change his personality (something I KNOW was a lie because I've seen him be nice and personable to other patients, even to me, as long as the intern is in the room). I've never in my life had a professional act in such a way. I, as a teacher, would never act this way. I wouldn't tell a parent "Well, your kid makes me mad, too, so there!" even if the kid really DID drive me crazy. It's...well, childish and whiny and I'm the adult, right?

So, Kevin said what I was thinking, which was "I guess I don't see how our leaving would upset you, since you're saying this causes you stress." The doctor changed the subject and demanded to know wo was doing our D & C. Kevin said that our doctor had suggested someone and before he could say more, the doctor said, "Well, call me back when that's over and we'll talk...I have to go now, goodbye!" and HUNG UP!

So, this has been one of those weird things that's so messed up, it's actually funny. I know we'll get through this and we'll get another doctor, but I figured I blog about it so people in the same situation know you DO have rights. You do NOT have to see the same doctor. You can choose any other in the same office. We're planning on asking one of the other specialists to take our case, but if they feel strongly about it because of the jerk we're dealing with, I won't put them in that position. We'll just go to another office entirely (which is also our choice and right).

No matter what, though...do NOT let some professional make you feel like you don't matter. A fertility specialist SHOULD care about your needs and should be able to counsel you a little we you need it. It's a stressful time and a hard enough situation without you having to fight for fair treatment. Take it from us...you DON'T have to put up with it and there ARE nicer, more caring doctors in this world!

Sleeping With Mom

2006-02-02T19:59:00.000-08:00

I had my insemination today, but that's not what sleeping with mom is about (thank goodness for THAT!). The night before, I suddenly PANICKED. I had no idea how to think about things, where to put my mind. Should I be confident, certain that this will work or more guarded, assuming the worst so I wouldn't be disappointed later.

I really worked myself into a frenzy while Kevin slept, so I got up and called my mom in tears. She told me to calm down because regardless of what happened, this was NOT good for making a baby. "You need to make sure that your body is ready for this and staying up crying and feeling sorry for yourself is not going to do it."

"But, Mom, I'm so scared..." I wept.

"Then stop it. Whatever will happen will happen and rather than asking God for what you want, give it to him and let it GO."

What most folks don't realize is when they say they're letting God "take it", they're really asking God for what they want, then hoping he delivers. What you need to do is ask him for the strength to accept whatever is to happen and for the peace of mind in the interim.

After I realized that, she said, "Now, tonight, you go back to bed with your husband, but know that you sleep with me. And I don't want you kickin' and fussin' and carryin' on all night, so get your act together."

Sometimes, when you think you need to just vent, what you really need is a good shaking and then the reminder that you ARE strong and, more importantly, you ARE loved, by the man next to you as well as by a crazy old lady 1400 miles away.

I sleep with unconditional love tonight.

Bun Packin'

2006-02-01T18:37:00.000-08:00

Well, it's official. After 5 years of trying, we're finally pregnant (apparently, sleeping with one's mother helps!). My boobs hurt, my abdomen feels like I'm going to start my period every five seconds, but I'm honestly and truly pregnant (plus Celtic Quinn & Sweet Heart made a Little Terror cootie with a baby carving just for us, so now we're having a boxer, too!). I took a blood test back on the 16th of February (2 weeks after my insemination on the 2nd) and it has me very clearly over the HCG levels needed.

Of course, the minute I finally let loose the news at Desperately Seeking Suds (of which I had NONE of, of course!), I start a little spotting and some cramping (sharper than the original stuff I was feeling). Plus the doctor says the HCG levels in my last blood workup didn't have the numbers doubling the way they're supposed to, so now they want me to take another test tomorrow. Apparently being pregnant does not necessarily mean STAYING pregnant.

Worried? Yep.

But, like my mom said, "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." And Kevin keeps reminding me he loves me, no matter what. So I figure I got THAT goin' fer me (watch, now the kid'll turn out to be Bill Murray!)

Kinda weird finally thinking about having a baby, though. Suddenly NOTHING in the house looked like it was suitable to me and EVERYTHING seemed expensive to Kevin ("you know how much these things cost to RAISE???"). I want to do a good job, I want to make sure the kid is happy, healthy, can read well, doesn't get picked on about the interracial thing, smart, good at...everything, especially the stuff that pays well, loves everything, but only gets attached to the things that treat him/her well...so much to demand and so little time...

Plus, you feel like you should be MUCH less demanding of God when he finally grants your fondest wish, but still...oh, human greed and need is a rough taskmaster!

Wish us luck, 'cause we SURE don't need more misfortune! ;-)

A Nice Man?

2006-01-12T22:05:00.000-08:00

I've been listening to NPR talk about Samuel Alito, the nominee to replace Justice Sandra Day O'Connor on the Supreme Court. He's being grilled (well, grilled by Democrats, defended by Republicans) about some of the decisions and statements he's made in his judicial career. It looks like he's getting in trouble over his views on abortion and various other watery issues, but the one that caught my attention was the latest, his having been a a part of a group called Concerned Alumni of Princeton (CAP). In 1983, this group, who flat out was for keeping minorities out of Princeton, wrote an essay in their group's magazine called In Defense of Elitism. Part of the essay said,

"People nowadays just don't seem to know their place. Everywhere one turns, blacks and Hispanics are demanding jobs simply because they're black and Hispanic."

Now, the guy signs up for this group, but claims he totally remembers nothing about it at ALL. Then he declares he's not a bigot, his wife starts crying and one of the Republican senators says essentially, "I know he's not a bigot because I've got 500 statements from people who worked with him that say he's a nice person." The entire process comes off as the mean Democrats picking on Alito's wife.

Okay.

First let me tell you what some terribly nice people, people I've even LOVED have said to me.

From a friend's grandmother: "Why, you're just the sweetest lil' n--ger I ever met!"

From my mother-in-law's sister: "Didn't you ever think that the reason your people suffer on earth is because you have a better place than us in heaven?"

From a friend in high school: "I like you, but I really hate other black people." (when asked if she understood that meant my 8 year old brother, my grandmother and a host of other folks she hadn't ever met, she asked why that was a problem)

I hate to break it to Sen. Lindsay Graham, but some of the NICEST people in the world can be bigots. I've seen people who love, hug and coddle little children while taking pictures next to lynched bodies like it's a some kind of family outing. I've seen grandmothers that bake cookies for local charities in segregation protests yelling at 1st grade girls while swinging a black doll with a noose around its neck. I've talked to highly intelligent human beings who really thought it would help African Americans if they were allowed (yes, ALLOWED) to go back to their home country and begin again.

Being nice does NOT preclude you from being fundamentally WRONG.

And joining a little group like CAP is no where NEAR as violent as any of those other ones I mentioned, but that's not that way the North works. The South has had its difficulties with overtly racist acts, but the North has been the purveyor of some very underground racist acts, such as suburbs that don't admit minorities and secret societies or clubs like CAP. They aren't as widely discussed, but that doesn't make them any less wrong. And really, there's no WAY and up and coming Ivy League student could have joined a prestigious Princeton society (whose very name suggests that their belief system is something offensive enough to not mention) without knowing what it was about. Heck, you'd HAVE to ASK with a name as vague as Concerned Alumni of Princeton! "Say, guys, what ARE we concerned about, anyway?" And it's not like he wasn't PROUD of being in the group...the whole reason it's an issue is because he put it on a job application! If this was a dumb mistake you made in college, why bring it up again without being asked?

I mean, I could see if like this was PETA or something and they were putting out these essays...you'd think they were about animal rights and could explain being misled. But what Ivy League student doesn't have the mental wherewithal to ask what a club is about before joining? Is THAT the kind of thorough examination of information you want with a Supreme Court judge?

Now, maybe bigoted isn't the prettiest word. Let's go with prejudiced, something we all can say we are to an extent. We all have biases that tend to cloud our judgement when we make decisions. I don't mind that in the average person, but in a Supreme Court judge, I need a guy who's got the LEAST biases possible. And even if he IS a "nice guy", that won't stop him from crapping on my rights if he thinks in some misguided way that'll help right the wrongs of this nation.

It's bad enough that the Republicans are trying to help this man blow off his involvement with this group, but the hypocrisy of pretending Mrs. Alito's tears should matter worth a darn in this (especially since I'm sure the families who suffered at the hands of those "nice people" I mentioned probably wept a bit themselves) is WAY too much to handle. She does have reason to cry, though. I'd cry, too, if I found out my husband had been involved in a group like that...and then I'd let the committee tear him apart while I had the divorce papers drawn up. :-)

She Shoots, She SCOOOORES...almost...

2005-05-12T22:07:00.000-07:00

Okay, now I've gotten the 2nd to last piece of the tenure puzzle, My principal wrote my end of the year recommendation and hightly recommended me tenure. I was a little surprised at how nice she made me sound. I don't even remember all the good stuff this time, 'cause I was so relieved just to KNOW I was recommended. I do remember saying, "Wow, I didn't even know I DID all this stuff!"

She smiled at me and laughed. "You're saying you didn't do all these things?"

"Uh, I mean, yes, of course!" I replied, quickly assuming the authoritative sound. "I'm glad you finally noticed!"

We both laughed and I decided to take the compliment instead. It's not that I don't believe I'm good, I just forget how much more impressed people are with some of the things that I consider second nature. F'rinstance, computer use. I'm amazed at how thrilled people get at seeing my students using Powerpoint or even just holding a laptop! I could be having them surf for tv shows and making a presentation regarding the cancellation of Family Guy and the impact it had on our household and someone would still be stunned that my kids could do use the internet without being hooked into the wall!

I'm already getting exicited about next year, though. I'm testing the kids now and doing the numbers and making spreadsheets of info and reading through all the forms we fill out on each one...a lot of work. But I LOVE this kinda stuff! It's like being a sports coach and having the beginning of the year tryouts. You get to see the whole gambit of players, but then you find some incoming freshman who makes your start QB or runner look like they're on blocks. Or, in my case, I find some kid that people thought couldn't POSSIBLY be gifted because they annoyed people/didn't do homework/had bad handwriting etc. and I more often than not get to tell them "Don't be so sure...check out THESE scores!" It's like giving a kid a second chance to prove themselves in another arena. Kinda therapeutic for me, too...I think it's always been my destiny to find kids who were like me and help them realize they can't charm their way through life forever...they'll have to DO something proactive with their brains.

Okay, gotta get some rest!

Recognition and Redemption

2005-04-10T20:00:00.000-07:00

I got my third year observation from the assistant superintendent of my entire school district today...here's some of the things she had to say about me:

"Sometimes gifted students are afraid to take risks in front of others, but Mrs. Burke has created a risk taking environment. She herself often models this self-questioning attitude--and helps students feel comfortable with laughing at what turns out to be a "silly" hypothesis."

"Mrs. Burke is very much involved with her students' work. Down on the floor, she was measuring students' bridges built from spaghetti and Elmer's glue. These "real-life science projects give students a chance to be creative and to do serious thinking simlutaneously."

"Mrs. Burke and her students are tucked into whatever corner a principal can find. She functions quite well in spite of these restrictions."

And the one that made me feel the most pride:

"Mrs. Burke has taken on the role of leader in this program."

That's ME she was talking about, me and my Science Olympics curriculum. She didn't say "Mrs. Burke has so much potential, but could do better." She didn't find the little imperfections in my manner, my clothes, my world view and she darn sure didn't seem unhappy with my "attitude toward my work". I've always known I was creative and innovative and helped challenge kids in a fun way...but think I've lived (and waited) my whole life without hearing someone say I was a leader, that I was the person running the show and in charge, not the person on the side who makes the leader look good. I was actually moved to tears without knowing why until I realized that fact. Someone I respect infinitely basically just acknowledged that what I do is REAL teaching and REAL leadership ability, not just "hey, everyone, it's fun, follow me and PLAY!".

I have at last been taken seriously in my career.

I'm not bragging, but I was so proud and genuinely happy, I had to post it. This is my tenure year, and it's the first time I've ever been worried about getting it. I guess that mostly has to do with the district being so small and my program being so new. I'm constantly battling the need to please everyone with the need to do right by my kids (oh, and the secret need to be RIGHT more often!).

My Anniversary Part 3

2004-08-04T21:26:00.000-07:00

Just got back from taking our anniversary picture at the Red Coach Inn. See, we forgot to take pictures that night and I always try to take a picture of us for every anniversary (I even have the picture of us when my parents announced our engagement at THEIR 30th anniversary party!). It meant a lot to me to have it on the wall with the rest, so KEvin suggested we put on the same clothes and go back up to take the pic out front. It's not exactly on the date, but only 2 of them have been that way, anyway. Plus, it's the thought that counts.

It occurs to me that the way to prove you love a woman is to show that you care enough to remember what's important to her. Men seem to be much easier about the proof they need for love...it's all pretty physical, from what I gather! With us, though, it's remembering our anniversaries, our birthdays, our special days...that always gets me!

Anyway, I guess I'm to the last part of my "how we met" saga. After gently chiding my future husband on his belief that he could restrain himself in the face of my ultimate sex appeal :-p, Kevin made the trip down to see me again just after Christmas of 1997. I made sure we had almost NO moments alone. I had kids from my youth group over to sleep over and hang out at ALL hours of the night. He even came to my improv show with Rubber Chicken on New Year's Eve and we had just a blast.

We had SUCH a good time, I realized how much I really DID love him and how comfortable I was with him again. So much so that...well, I was the big flirt and tease that got things started again. There we were, alone after 3 days of constant company and I decide (after telling HIM that HE won't be able to be good) to walk around in a half shirt and short-shorts. Needless to say, this evolved into a makeout session pretty quickly, but one I was FULLY ready for.

Things were going quite swimmingly when Kev pulled away, muttering, "Oh, damn, honey, I promised I wouln't DO this..."

My first thought and words (which was a bit muddled, what with my shirt half up and my senses reeling) was "And you're keeping this promise NOW????" Then, as I started to calm down, I was less exasperated and more bewildered. I repeated the question and he shrugged helplessly at me.

"Well, of course, hon, I LOVE you. How could I do otherwise?" he asked, as if throwing one's passion into reverse while it's doing 90 on the highway is an easy thing to do.

But suddenly, I realized that the real shocker was my OWN attitude. I had done so many things that I thought were wrong (which I now realize were wrong in comparision to what women of the 40's and 50's considered right, not modern day standards) that I no longer thought I was worth keeping a promise to. Before I knew it, I was crying so hard I could barely breathe. He scooped me up and rocked me like a baby, saying, "Oh, hon, if you could only see what I see in you, you'd never worry about anything with us again."

When I could finally see him clearly again, I looked up into his eyes and said "I love you" and found that for the first time, I was able to say it and not turn away, embarrassed or feel guilty. I felt a wave of relief wash over me that was truly unbelievable. It was as if Kevin had merely been away on a long trip and had finally come home, instead of my committing to a real relationship with him for the first time.

Anyway, he went back home in January of '98 and returned a month later and we've been together ever since. We officially tied the knot on July 17, 1999, but as you can see, it's been quite the love thang! ;-)

My Anniversary Part 2

2004-07-18T23:34:00.000-07:00

We went to the Red Coach Inn in Niagara Falls for dinner Saturday (our 5 year anniversary). The food and wine were great and the evening was shagadelic! ;-) But I should finish up this story...

Okay, so Kevin and I had our horrible first meeting, which ended with him going home to New York bummed out and me staying where I was bummed out. I had left him under the impression that he just wasn't attractive to me, which wasn't the problem at all. I was just too afraid to be involved again seriously, so any little fault I could find, I mentioned it. REally, a full on relationship was just too scary for me. I had broken up with a lot of people that I should never have gotten involved with, but it hadn't changed the fact that each time, I had to make some guy VERY upset, usually enough to make me feel awful for weeks at a time (especially sinces some of them reall went out of their way to make me feel worse when they saw me in public!).

After this one, I was pretty sure that was going to be it for any sort of relationships.

Unfortunately, by this time, I had really gotten used to coming home from work to talk to Kevin online. Suddenly, that was completely gone and my life felt a LOT emptier because of it. By the middle of September, I was missing him terribly and wanted to talk with him, but was afraid of the guilt trip I was sure he was going to give me if I tried. I was still ready to take the chance, though, so I started playing Terris and unblocking my instant messages. Eventually, he talked to me and was TOTALLY cool about everything. He said he was missing our friendship, too, and wouldn't mind staying friends, so long as if I DID find another guy, I didn't tell him about it. I had NO intentions of putting myself through the emotional wringer again, so that was cool with me.

We decided to do what my dad had said and take the time to get to know each other in person. So, I came up to Buffalo for the few days before Thanksgiving of 1997. We met up in Toronto (which is only a few hours from Buffalo) and had this AMAZING weekend! We had dinner with his brother's family, we hung out and had dinner with his friends (some of whom were my friends, too from Terris). While we were in Toronto, he took me to see Phantom of the Opera, we had dinner on this boat on the edge of Lake Erie, we had a hotel room a good 25 stories above the city and it SNOWED, something I hadn't seen in nearly 10 years by that point. I cried like a baby at the flakes and he held me by the window...

Oh, right, we were SUPPOSED to be acting like just friends...!

Friends who are girls, by the way, do not buy lingerie and sleep in it in a romantic hotel room with friends who are boys. This is part of the weird "yes, I want to impress him with my sexiness and feel all tingly, but I don't think I want the guilt that accompanies it" attitude that I have developed after years with other guys and years of being a school reject. So, even though this weekend went well, I still left feeling nervous about being near him. All the sexual tenison for someone like me who'd never done it (and waited until marriage TO do it) was just too much. When I got home, I decided that if this is what guy/girl relationships were all about, I was going to be single forever.

The cool thing about Kevin is that he KNEW something was wrong and, unlike most guys, he actually called me to ask what was wrong. "I know this didn't work out for some reason, so I'm just gonna list all the things we did that could have upset you and you just tell me which one it is. Is it when we hung out with my friends?"

"No," I told him, "that was actually fun."

"Was it when we went to see the Phantom?" And he continued like that until he finally hit the one part that had really done it. "Was it when we were intimate with each other, the kissing and hugging and all that?"

I didn't want him to feel bad, but I had to be honest. "Welllll..." I faltered.

And then he started LAUGHING at me! I was a little shocked, but he finally said, "Oh, hon, if you only knew how small a part of our relationship that is to me, you wouldn't even worry. Look, I want to come visit you for New Year's and I promise, the entire time we're together, that I won't touch you. I'll sleep in the other room, you can have people around all night and all day if you want to keep things light, but I will NOT lay a hand on you, not even if you ask me to."

At that point, I laughed at HIM. "Hey, I know how hard it is for guys to make a promise like that, so I'll understand if you have trouble keeping your end of the bargain. Girls don't have that problem, though, so I'll be fine, trust me!"

Okay, I'll tell you the end later...gotta get to bed!

My anniversary

2004-07-12T22:24:00.000-07:00

In honor of our 5th anniversary this Saturday, I'm finally recapping how Kevin and I met (in PARTS, 'cause this takes a WHILE!).

We actually met online, but not in a chat room. One of my students moved away back in about November of 1996 and he wanted to stay in contact with me. Unfortunately, his parents didn't like IMs, but they liked me, so he showed me a game called Terris, which is a multiuser game a lot like D&D online. You have a character you play and you talk with other people from all over while trying to do quests, earn points, etc. This kid and I played this game together while he talked about problems he was having in school and we worked out his major agression problems that way.

Meanwhile, I started playing the game on my own when he wasn't about and fed my latent Dungeons & Dragons need. I kept earning more levels and meeting more people. It's all text based, so you have to imagine you're an elf or a ranger or whatever going around killing dragons and such, but the best part for me was roleplaying the character I'd created (and since I love acting, I played it up quite a bit)! I figured since I never really got the chance to play and enjoy in high school, I could play in the privacy of my own apartment and not get laughed at! Kevin was actually a friend of a friend in this game that I started to hang out with in about February of 1997 more because he was really good at roleplay, too. Whereas most people would just say hi and use a few of the same old emotes like "_____ waves at you" or "______ laughs heartily", Kevin did what I did and added interesting details to what he said. I remember the way I used to greet every person was with "Naomi flutters up and hovers to peer curiously in your face" (played a sprite, obviously), which at most, had people replying that they pretended to sneeze or brush her away. Kevin replied with "Turlock holds perfectly still, making no sudden moves that would alarm the little sprite as she inspects him." I was amazed that any guy would put that kind of effort in being kind and gentle. We hooked up to adventure almost immediately. He was playing a Highlander type, a big gentle warrior with a big sword and I played a little sprite, constantly in trouble and needing help, even as she thinks she's protecting HIM!

Eventually, we just kept playing until finally, in the game, we let our characters get married. That's when we started to talk in IMs, too. We got married because it seemed like the story of Naomi and Turlock dictated that, but he and I were just two friends who were impressed with each other's writing ability. I was doing improv comedy and teaching just outside of Dallas, TX at the time while he was working at a post office just outside of Buffalo, NY (hope the football team irony isn't lost upon you!). We had a ball talking online and hanging out with our friends in Terris and just making up stories about our characters to play out, so much so that I started to look forward to coming home and getting online with him.

Once summer came, we were really starting to toy with the idea that we might be in love. I had to go away for a month to be an RA for gifted kids taking college courses, so we finally decided we could try talking on the phone, since neither of us could stand to not talk for that long with the other. I told him he could call and if he got stuck for words, he could just say "I have no idea what to say," which would make us both start laughing and talking about how silly we were. The first words I ever heard him say verbally were just that. We cracked up and proceeded to rack up phone bills for the next 2 months that were the equivalent of 4 plane tickets!

Once we figured out it would be cheaper just to meet, he flew down in August '97, just a few days before school started for me. It was a DISASTER! The first day and a half was just us adoring each other, but then I took him to meet my parents, who immediately stressed their concerns, which was to be expected. He actually told them he'dve wondered what kind of parents I had if the WEREN'T worried. I think my dad thought this guy was okay, because he's the one that said the words that ruined everything, "Take your time and get to know each other. Lots of people have met at a distance like this, but now you need to spend the time getting to know one another in person. Don't try and push yourselves into a place you're feeling yet."

I suddenly realized I had declared love for a man I didn't physically know from Adam and got terrified. I told him I wasn't sure about us while we were out eating (to this day, he cringes at the sight of a Boston Market), then told him I was sure I WASN'T in love on the way home, and we both broke down with another day and a half left of his visit.

Okay, let me leave you with this much and write the rest later...this is a LONG story! ;-)

Family

2004-07-11T23:02:00.000-07:00

I'm finding that I don't have the strength or patience for extended family gathering, whether they be my side or Kevin's. I lived my entire life with the same 3 people (Mom, Dad & my brother). So, when I hook up with the larger family (not including Kevin), I find myself having to be "on" again, something I can only keep up for a few hours before I need shelter from the storm of mind games, pity parties and everything else that attacks me, the oldest, the friendly one, the funny one. It's not even specific to his side of the family, it's mine, too, which is weird. I'm the one who loves to talk and interact, yet these gatherings (if they last longer than 2 or 3 hours) inevitably have me feeling slightly in shock and much in need of a hug or a good cry.

For example, I had a great Saturday with my sisters-in-law, then suddenly broke down into HYSTERICAL tears when I got home to Kevin...I was HORRIBLY homesick all the sudden, so bad I couldn't breathe or do anything without coughing out more tears! And today was my hubby aunt's birthday and her sisters were there. His one aunt (one we love who stood in for his mother at our wedding) kept alternating between anger and pleading to get us to talk to her sister (his mom), causing me to nearly burst out into tears AGAIN right there. Meanwhile, his mother (whom we will NOT speak to until she's able to tell us she can be a grandmother to our children) goes and whines about how we should come talk to her, but deliberately walks up to talk to another family member she hates JUST because I was talking to her and she wanted to make sure I knew she was ignoring ME! All this at a 90th birthday for another sister who we truly wanted to honor!

So, two big sobbing fits in as many days. This is bad mojo for a tomboy and usually means my period's on it's way, which it is, but also has its roots in basic facts. I know Saturday's tears were because I had so MUCH fun with my sisters-in-law that I remembered how great it was when I was home with just my mom, dad, brother and husband in the cool, calm, wide open spaces of our home in Dallas. Today's tears were brought on by that family stress I'm growing less and less tolerant of. It's not age alone that's doing this to me...I don't think family strife got to me before because I wasn't involved and didn't even understand the social dynamics aspect of it when I WAS involved (or overheard it). Now that I know what's going on, it's harder to deal with, almost like Christmas. Once you understand what's really underneath it all, you get more and more cynical and you find it harder to stay upbeat and willing to participate.

I'm seeing why my father moved away from HIS family now...all those people and all that interaction can REALLY wear on you when you're not used to it.

Why I Teach

2004-07-02T00:34:00.000-07:00

Know why I'm a teacher?

Because my whole week, sometimes whole MONTH is made by just ONE child FINALLY bringing in his homework.

Because I go into purchase overload when I walk into a teacher store.

Because I know that hairy purple tree your child drew is actually a picture of me teaching

Because I like working a second job/teaching remedial summer school/going to "recommended seminars"/redecorating my classroom/writing up year-long scope and sequences/learning an ENTIRELY new ELA delivery method during the summer, all while people tell me how easy I have it with my 3 months off (by the way, if school STARTS in September and ENDS at the end of June, where's this mysterious 3rd month???).

Because I honestly think "What do ghosts eat at McDonald's? BOO-gers!" is one of the world's greatest unappreciated pieces of humor.

Because (aside from parenting) I was suited for nothing else with my ocular disability (eyes in the back of my head).
Because the smell of paste, chalk, pencil shavings and old lunches all blended together somehow makes me feel at home.

Because I actually take great delight in lining up my classes' state testing scores and plotting ways to raise them every year.

Because debunking the "my child is perfect" myth is not NEARLY as thrilling as debunking the "that kid'll NEVER make it" myth.

Because I want to be like MY teacher was, delighted to see a student she'd had nearly 15 years ago.

Because it helps feed me secret addiction to overhead marker ink/chalkdust/dry erase marker crumbs.

Because I love repeating myself (Turn to page 4...page 4...we're on page 4...that's page 5, not page 4. Turn to page 4...PAGE 4!!!)

Because I want to prove something to all the bad teachers I had.

Because I want to be as memorable as all my good teachers were.

Because after Christmas/spring break, I'm actually DELIGHTED to go back to work.

Because I want to know I did something to affect world policy in 2040 and beyond way back when I told my 4th graders "Do unto others..."

Because kids are a GREAT audience.

Because in every situation we all have something to learn and something to teach ...and I get to do both every day.

Because I not only BELIEVE I make a difference, I SEE it in the faces of my children.

Because I honestly have nothing better to do with my time than make sure your child grows up to be a decent human being.

And finally,

Because deep in my heart of hearts, it's KILLING me that I have begun each one of these sentences with "because"!!!

I Was a Geek Reject

2004-07-01T23:47:00.000-07:00

Alright, so the deal with Dungeons & Dragons is this...

I've always had this love-hate relationship with the game and all things generally considered to be geek fare (Star Trek, anime, Lord of the Rings, laughter that sounds like snorting, etc.) for reasons that had buried themselves so deep, I had forgotten what they were. Normally, someone asks me to game or watch something and I give me stardard "hell, no, that's stupid...not interested" spiel. Then I let myself be coerced into doing it, anyway and enjoy myself. The only things I had truly held out on was anime and D&D.

Then "Spirited Away" came out...

The problem with being married to someone who loves you and understands you have depth is that when you play shallow, they gently lead you out to the deep end and with a gentle kiss on your forehead, slowly sink you deeper into the depths of your own soul until they figure out what's really eating you. Kevin wouldn't just accept the standard "I don't wanna watch that...it's stupid" response.

"Why?" he'd ask.

And I'd say, "It just is! I hate that crap!"

And this circular sort of conversation continued one night until I literally was backed against the wall of our hallway getting more and more upset and repeating "I just DON'T LIKE it, that's all!" until we got to the point of tears (mine, of course). I got all shaky and figdety, a sure sign I'm about to dig up some long buried childhood memory. Then he did what he always does when we get to this point (it's happened about 3 times now)...he started to ask questions.

"Is it because you don't like the animation style?"
No.

"Is it because you don't like the subtitles?"
No.

Suddenly, I remember EXACTLTY where it started. Middle school.

I had this crush on the actual KING of the geeks back in 6th grade. The Geek King (who shall remain nameless, since I'm sure he's taken over some part of Microsoft by now) and his minions kept promising to teach me D&D, but never doing it. They'd even go so far as to say they'd meet me somewhere and ditch me, and finally told me the day I read the Lord of the Rings trilogy was they day they'd show me. Well, like most girls, my idea of fantasy wasn't QUITE as dark as Tolkien's (mostly unicorns and fairies, a viewpoint I have to defend to this DAY), so I started the books and put them down after making it halfway through the Fellowship. After that, I developed a sort of "you can't fire me, I quit" sort of attitude to the whole process of learning to game with other people.

That was the end until freshman year in high school when I bought the old boxed set of D&D (the one where you could actually color in the numbers on your dice?) and tried to play with my little brother. This sucked because I had to DM an already set campaign and the dice really just bogged it down for us (being only 10 and 14 and not really wanting to read ALL the rules). We gave it up, only to have my brother pick it up for a few years in middle school himself, but with his friends, not me (insult to injury!). I met a few folks in high school who played, too, but being terribly unpopular in high school makes you wary of opening yourself up for ridicule, so I never even posed the question.

Then college came along and it started all over again. Meet a friend who plays, get interested, then something happens. Kat (my journal buddy) made it through my "I don't WANNA play...it's stupid" barrier and got me to compromise...no dice, just RP. Then I moved and we ended up growing apart, and back together, but never back to that level of RP, which I had REALLY loved. Jeff, my boyfriend in college, showed me how to play GURPS (Generic Universal Roleplaying System) after making it past my barrier, but then we broke up, grew apart and got back together, but never the same way. He also introduced me to anime, but I seem to recall this was one of those "guys hanging out" moments that I really should have gone home for, but didn't, so I got introduced to the giant penis monsters of anime ("well, there's like 30 or so of those" says Kevin!) but nothing more, really. THEN I graduated, got a job and started playing Terris because of one of my students. I met my future husband, but once he and I got together in the same house, Terris just wasn't the same for me. Just lost all the RP fun, once again.

Essentially, all things geek had built an unbelievable wall in me that had gotten pretty dramatic. I couldn't get NEAR a game without putting up the "this is so lame" front that would last for like days after I saw the game. Couldn't go to cons without getting the shakes, couldn't go to gaming stores without waiting in the car...I actually wept and ranted for an hour and a half once when a friend of Kevin's made it sound like I didn't have the patience for Lord of the Rings, just as a passing joke! One doesn't normally do that over something that they think is just "stupid".

But I digress...

All this came out on the floor of our hallway that night and I actually found myself shaking at the thought of actually watching "Spirited Away". I almost decided NOT to do it because I was literally terriffied of getting involved; getting to like it and then having things go wrong with it. I don't think I actually thought Kevin might LEAVE me, I had just STOPPED thinking rationally at all.

But I did it...mostly for him, but a LOT for me. I watched "Spirited Away" that night and loved it. Been watching "A Little Snow Fairy Sugar" lately and digging that, too.

And then I FINALLY rolled up some characters for D&D. Kev has made an entire campaign based on Terris characters, but using 3rd edition rules. Which means EVERYONE has to start from scratch, not just me. Plus, he's DMing and that means no one makes fun of the wife of the DM...!

So, I played a practice campaign with him Sunday and Monday night...and finally embraced my inner geek, like Jimbo in American Pie. Sure, there's still the worry that somehow, this is all going to go horribly awry once I finally get my heart and soul into it, but since I'm a big kid now and I no longer have to balance on the whims and acceptance of others (usually!), I am ready to take my Monstrous Compendium one hand and my Project Ako in the other and proudly proclaim "YES! I DO know the sound a vorpal blade makes...and, dammit...I LIKE it!

Reading over this again, I'm reminded of why I chose the word "ramblings" for the main title...you have the patience of a SAINT if you've made it this far! ;-)

Almost forgot!

2004-06-29T23:45:00.000-07:00

The whole reason I decided to START today was because I FINALLY did some D&D gaming this week, for the first time in my life. I have spent the past 2 decades claiming to be wholly disinterested in "that crap", as I've more kindly put it, so to make this jump required, yet again, the significant otter. It's amazing what Kevin's talked me into. Since I'm going off to bed soon, let's discuss the whole D&D thing later (since it comes with a whole level of psychosis that requires a bit more than a dash-off on the keyboard) and look at the list of stuff Kevin's talked me into:

10 Things Kevin Burke Made Me Do That My Mom Will Probably Give Me Spankings For

1. Sex--well, that kinda comes with the marriage...plus I can't really say I wasn't interested! ;-)

2. Drugs--actually, just codeine and only because I was in really bad pain at the time, but you get the idea!

3. Rock & Roll--Eugene Maslov doesn't really count as either, but stupid Ozric Tentacles and Tears For Fears CDs DO! Plus, I think I started liking Ludacris AfTER we were together, so there's RAP music, too!

4. Smoking--technically, Steph was the one who suggested we have the cigar in Toronto, so really I should blame her, but he DID like the idea and I DID smoke it because of BOTH of them, so...yeah...!

5. Drinking--actually, he's not so much talked me into this as made it safe for me to enjoy it. When you're not afraid someone's going to take advantage of you )and in fact are HOPING this will happen) booze can actually be fun!

6. Belching without saying excuse me--I used to cover my mouth and just do a small burp that ended in a whistle (don't ask how, it just worked) and a prompt "excuse me". Now I go for the full on "ARRRRP", to which he always replies "For Retired Persons!" Oh, FIE upon the evil that is this man!

7. Swearing--Admittedly, I did this before Kevin, but it sounds so much BETTER with him around! !@#$ing yeah!

8. Impulse buying--(ROFL) Okay, that one was all me, I'm just playin'! Of course, I DO buy stuff for HIM right after I get stuff for me...!

9. Dungeons & Dragons RPG--Satan's game! This man talked me into playing this after a deep seated hatred, nay, FEAR of RP with dice. Pretty impressive feat, actually...I'll talk more about that tomorrow...

10. Kissing on the Mouth--Yes, I have saved the worst for last...kissing on the mouth and LOTS of times. Once, about 5 years ago (5 years exactly on July 17th), I even did it in a nice white dress in front of a lot people, including my parents, grandmothers and GOD!

What have I done...I've RUINED my LIFE!!!!! (runs off sobbing to go drown her sorrows in some more on-the-mouth kissing!)

Finally did it!

2004-06-29T19:38:00.000-07:00

(Note: Anything before December 31, 2007 was originally posted elsewhere, such as my Live Journal blog. I'm moving it all over here so I have just the one blog t keep track of.)

Kat's been telling me about this for months and I just never decided to do anything with it until now. With school out, I have a little time before summer school starts to write some.

Not much going on, though...I'm sitting around watching my hair get knappier and knappier since I keep getting hair appointments that get cancelled. For those of you who aren't predominately black, this means you spend the entire day beforehand NOT touching your hair so that you don't open your scalp up to the lye they throw in to straighten it. You go into wherever the place is with your hair decked out incognito (usually with some big ugly hat or some other type of head covering that can handle your "near-fro") with the expectation that you'll look all nice and sleek again within a few hours, so no one will blame you for coming in the way you did.

However, twice now I've had my hairdresser cancel or be sick.

And my hairdresser is at JCPenney's in the mall...so EVERYBODY is seeing me and since I KNOW I represent every black female most people will ever see, I'm constantly worried that people are staring at me and saying "See, that is JUST what I THOUGHT black women did...NEVER take care of their HAIR!"

Call it paranoia, but it's not like I haven't been asked such questions before! ;-)

Anyway, so I'm just trying to keep from getting the hair headache until Saturday (the one you get from having hair all tight and knappy on your hair), my next appointment. I keep saying I'm going to leave this woman if she doesn't stop doing this to me, but again, the hair experience is hard for women of color. Once you FIND someone who can do your hair and do it right (which, when you move a lot like I have, you literally have to do by asking total strangers with nice hair who does their hair, I kid you not), it would take an act of God to get you to leave them and they KNOW it. Heaven forbid you should open your mouth and complain or you'll be finding yourself another hair dresser...or worse yet, you'll be picking up the once long an luxurious strands of your coif off the floor to the tune of an electric razor...

Honestly, it's not all bad, even with the time spent. You'll sit with 4 or 5 other women who are all scheduled for the same time and be at the shop for 4 or 5 hours getting your hair done. Some women will actually plan theirs on the same day because it's the only time they get to see their friends and talk. This has got to be a shock for those of you who can run into a local Supercuts and be all set with time to shop afterward, but this is the way things have been since I was a kid...hence, the popularity of the movies Beauty Shop & Barber Shop. Much as I'm complaining, I can't wait to sit and hang out with Amarlis and talk about her kid and my kids (the ones I teach, not the ones we're trying to have) and just hang out.

But seriously, if she isn't there THIS weekend, I'm....I'm REALLY going to another girl...for REAL!

2004-04-16T17:04:00.000-07:00

…fwhooff…

It's the noise you always hear in the movies when an atom bomb hits, that dull air-rushed thud that's even more baffling because the word "bomb" is attached to it. It's almost as if the very fact that it's the most deadly thing you can imagine makes it unnecessary to have all the noise you normally associate with other deadly stuff like dynamite, shotgun blasts, and cannon fire. After all, you're LOOKING at a mushroom cloud by that point, which is the visual symbol of total annihilation, so the "death wrapped in a Kleenex" kind of noise is meant to underscore that, I suppose. The bigger the cloud of death, the more likely you are to get that softer, quieter sound.