Saturday, June 30, 2007
Maybe he's just not that into you . . .
Ok, when you ask a (drunk) guy to make out with you and he says no. . . maybe he's just not that into you, right? I've never read the book, but I think I get the jist just from the title. I'm not sure what else I can do. I've always been a pretty big flirt. It has gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion. But lately my flirting skills seem to be diminished. I've lost confidence, maybe. Or I've lost "attractiveness". Whatever the case, I don't feel like my flirting is doing any good. Even when I basically give him an open invitation, he doesn't kiss me. How clear can I be? I want to make out with you. Nothing. Maybe he's just not that into me. The question is, why not????
Monday, June 25, 2007
my newest addiction is MAD. . .
I can blame my friend Wendy. . . meet Ms. Veronica Mars P.I.
My favorite episode title in season 1 is M.A.D. It stands for Mutally Assured Destruction. You can ask anyone in my class this year and they will tell you that MAD is one of my favorite International Political Theory terms. Basically it means that if we drop a bomb that would destroy Russia, they would drop a bomb that would destroy us, thereby assuring our mutual destruction. MAD is the crazy (mad) idea that if we have enough weapons, then no one would dare attack us because it would mean their own destruction as well. The kids in my class will also tell you that I am fond of using high school as an analogy for international politics. . . you better believe that if I teach this class again they are going to be watching part of the MAD episode (in which Veronica creates a "weapon" that would destroy a boy if he released the incriminating sex video he has of his ex). Hmmmm . . . I think I'm addicted.
My favorite episode title in season 1 is M.A.D. It stands for Mutally Assured Destruction. You can ask anyone in my class this year and they will tell you that MAD is one of my favorite International Political Theory terms. Basically it means that if we drop a bomb that would destroy Russia, they would drop a bomb that would destroy us, thereby assuring our mutual destruction. MAD is the crazy (mad) idea that if we have enough weapons, then no one would dare attack us because it would mean their own destruction as well. The kids in my class will also tell you that I am fond of using high school as an analogy for international politics. . . you better believe that if I teach this class again they are going to be watching part of the MAD episode (in which Veronica creates a "weapon" that would destroy a boy if he released the incriminating sex video he has of his ex). Hmmmm . . . I think I'm addicted.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
You can call me firecracker
Tennis anyone?
The third annual Mixed Drinks, Mixed Doubles Mixer was a huge success. While the tournament itself fell apart after the first round and I'm pretty sure that there was no winner, everyone had fun, got drunk and hit some balls. As the reining champs, Kagan and I had a lot to live up to this year. We of course failed misserably to live up to those expectations and lost our first two matches. We redeemed ourselves slightly by winning the third match. This late victory, of course made no difference since the tournament had devolved into a drunken free for all.
Gail, Simone and Heidi made up a great new game called Bomabardment. Physically more challenging then tennis the way we play it, the point of the game is to hit as many balls to the other side of the court as fast as possible. If all the balls are on the opponents side, you are awarded a point. Extra points are awarded if you hit a ball over the fence (a "home run"). This game is best played with at least three balls and at least four people. It is also extremely entertaining after a few cocktails.
Thank you to Ewen for bringing the tennis fun. Next event- The Back Nine Golf Tourney.
Kickball update: Science for the People- 3, Shitkickers- 23. One of those points is mine in the ninth. Go me. You can call me firecracker.
Friday, June 22, 2007
First day of summer
I'm not even going to talk about last week. Let's just say that it sucked and leave it at that. Coming home from Maine was rough. But last week is over and this week has been much better.
Yesterday we took the camp kids to Water World. I now have my first official sunburn of the summer. What that means is that parts of me are unevenly sore. I never seem to get sunburned in a overall fashion. Mostly my sunburns are a result of uneven sunscreen application. What that means is that right now I am splotchily red and tan. Over the next few days, some of the burn will fade nicely, some of the burn with peel grossly and I will be left with lots of strange lines. I never really feel like it's summer until I get a bit burned. Over the next few months I expect to get burned again (especially with all the time I'm spending outside with the kids). It is now officially summer.
Yesterday we took the camp kids to Water World. I now have my first official sunburn of the summer. What that means is that parts of me are unevenly sore. I never seem to get sunburned in a overall fashion. Mostly my sunburns are a result of uneven sunscreen application. What that means is that right now I am splotchily red and tan. Over the next few days, some of the burn will fade nicely, some of the burn with peel grossly and I will be left with lots of strange lines. I never really feel like it's summer until I get a bit burned. Over the next few months I expect to get burned again (especially with all the time I'm spending outside with the kids). It is now officially summer.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
journaling
So some of my thoughts recorded in my journal over the week:
6/2/07- My first thoughts of Maine- You can smell the water. You can feel it all around you. The air was cool, so the humidity is not either oppressive of bitter. It feels like a warm hand enclosing you in the mist. You can feel the water seeping into your skin. Everything is green and thick. Forests that could go on forever. The lilacs bloom later here. In Denver they are done flowering, but here they are in full fragrant bloom . . .
About the conference so far- it is clear that I need to leave my cynicism at the door and be enthusiastic, or not only will I not fit in, I won't have any fun.
Note: It rained for the first three days that I was there. Then the weather cleared up and became gorgeous- cool and lovely. The only problem, that's when the mosquitoes came out.
6/3/07 (my birthday)- Singing at 6:30am. A great way to start my 25th year. I had a lovely conversation with Missy about kids and drugs and past lives. Sometimes I think I can feel other lives in me. Quieter lives- I was thinking about my personalities. Maybe my Gemini duality is a force of a remembered past life. Maybe not.
6/4/07- I had a wonderful birthday- I got sung to at lunch and dinner. It has helped people learn my name "Hey, you're the birthday girl!" Plus I got cake.
6/5/07- gallery opening. working in a gallery is hard work. nuf said. goodnight.
6/7/07- I went on a boat trip yesterday. There were no whales as we had been promised. In fact, when we asked the captain if we might see whales, he laughed. We did see a lot of birds, which is fitting. I've never felt any connection to birds really . . . but I have been feeling drawn towards the imagery of birds lately. In my dreams and waking life- birds. Anyway, we also saw seals, which was cool. I didn't really get sea sick, although I did get car sick on the bus down to the water. Silly, eh?
Note: I have been having dreams about birds lately and explored this in a dream/art workshop.
6/7/07- I don't think the band had ever seen anything like it. I know I never had . After three encores, the band finally started to pack up their equipment. The crowd had been wonderful- first, they fed the band dinner (something else that doesn't happen too often) then they started to dance. Slowly at first a few people braved the floor. By the break, the floor was packed and the people were loving it. There was an unpretentiousness to the dance. Moving freely and openly with their whole body. Young and old spinning and jumping around each other. Freely, openly, feeling every beat in their feet, legs, arms, heads and torsos. They danced together and apart, through and around, up and down the dance floor. The first encore was expected, even the second was not unprecedented. They relented a third time, but could do so no longer and put away the drums, guitars, piano and saxophone. But then it started. Someone found a drum- out of no where, there appeared the accordion. They chanted nonsense, stomped and clapped. They continued to turn and jump and cheer. The spontaneous music came not from the band but from the dancers, from the dance itself. They had the dance inside of them and even the band had never seen anything like it.
6/8/07- To sleep, to dream. Or, to not sleep and to not dream. In a room full of spirits and other sleeping forms I did not sleep. I strained for sleep and in that straining I struggled and in that struggle I lay awake. When you try too hard for something it invariably slips through your fingers. Now up in the loft, high above the multitude of people engrossed in the poets reading on stage- here I doze, here I dream. With the sitar as my soundtrack I go into a trance so that the dream and life are now one in the same. I have made a nest here- surrounded myself in warmth and comfort. I sleep now and the poetry enters my dreams and makes me live the poetry.
A word mumbled in the night: "Sandwiches"
"The kind you eat?" "Of course, are there any other kind?" And back to sleep.
Note: I didn't sleep much during the week, even when during an all night workshop about dreams, sleep was the main idea. Since I've been home I've been dreaming a lot.
6/8/07 (still)- The collective sigh "Ahh" "Ohh" when the poem is done and no one knows if they should laugh or cry or clap or cheer, but they just sigh. "Ahh" "Ohh" We feel together the poem and let the sound escape from our lips almost involuntarily. "Ahh" "Ohh" is enough to express how we are all feeling.
6/9/07- You would have laughed- because it really is silly. 100 people holding hands, chanting, dancing, circling through and around each other. You would have laughed because it was almost too beautiful to not laugh, not cry. This would have been funny as a parody if it were not so true. You would have laughed, but I could not laugh. Instead I sang and turned and let the remembering enter me. I could have laughed, but I did not laugh and I'm glad.
6/10/07- We painted our faces blue. I don't think the kids understood exactly why we were doing it. They ended up having to go to bed before the talk even started. Why we were doing it didn't matter quite as much as the fact that it was fun. When is it not fun to paint your face blue and lay on the floor to listen to stories. We were honoring Krishna; but we were really just having random fun.
6/11/07- We held hands and chanted. . . "Good where I am, good where I'm going to be" we started to circle around. Passing now familiar faces that just a week ago seemed strange. As the circle got closer the chant grew softer. Soon we were in one gigantic group hug. I hope no one is claustrophobic. I realized that I was no longer standing on my own but being held up, supported by the circle.
6/2/07- My first thoughts of Maine- You can smell the water. You can feel it all around you. The air was cool, so the humidity is not either oppressive of bitter. It feels like a warm hand enclosing you in the mist. You can feel the water seeping into your skin. Everything is green and thick. Forests that could go on forever. The lilacs bloom later here. In Denver they are done flowering, but here they are in full fragrant bloom . . .
About the conference so far- it is clear that I need to leave my cynicism at the door and be enthusiastic, or not only will I not fit in, I won't have any fun.
Note: It rained for the first three days that I was there. Then the weather cleared up and became gorgeous- cool and lovely. The only problem, that's when the mosquitoes came out.
6/3/07 (my birthday)- Singing at 6:30am. A great way to start my 25th year. I had a lovely conversation with Missy about kids and drugs and past lives. Sometimes I think I can feel other lives in me. Quieter lives- I was thinking about my personalities. Maybe my Gemini duality is a force of a remembered past life. Maybe not.
6/4/07- I had a wonderful birthday- I got sung to at lunch and dinner. It has helped people learn my name "Hey, you're the birthday girl!" Plus I got cake.
6/5/07- gallery opening. working in a gallery is hard work. nuf said. goodnight.
6/7/07- I went on a boat trip yesterday. There were no whales as we had been promised. In fact, when we asked the captain if we might see whales, he laughed. We did see a lot of birds, which is fitting. I've never felt any connection to birds really . . . but I have been feeling drawn towards the imagery of birds lately. In my dreams and waking life- birds. Anyway, we also saw seals, which was cool. I didn't really get sea sick, although I did get car sick on the bus down to the water. Silly, eh?
Note: I have been having dreams about birds lately and explored this in a dream/art workshop.
6/7/07- I don't think the band had ever seen anything like it. I know I never had . After three encores, the band finally started to pack up their equipment. The crowd had been wonderful- first, they fed the band dinner (something else that doesn't happen too often) then they started to dance. Slowly at first a few people braved the floor. By the break, the floor was packed and the people were loving it. There was an unpretentiousness to the dance. Moving freely and openly with their whole body. Young and old spinning and jumping around each other. Freely, openly, feeling every beat in their feet, legs, arms, heads and torsos. They danced together and apart, through and around, up and down the dance floor. The first encore was expected, even the second was not unprecedented. They relented a third time, but could do so no longer and put away the drums, guitars, piano and saxophone. But then it started. Someone found a drum- out of no where, there appeared the accordion. They chanted nonsense, stomped and clapped. They continued to turn and jump and cheer. The spontaneous music came not from the band but from the dancers, from the dance itself. They had the dance inside of them and even the band had never seen anything like it.
6/8/07- To sleep, to dream. Or, to not sleep and to not dream. In a room full of spirits and other sleeping forms I did not sleep. I strained for sleep and in that straining I struggled and in that struggle I lay awake. When you try too hard for something it invariably slips through your fingers. Now up in the loft, high above the multitude of people engrossed in the poets reading on stage- here I doze, here I dream. With the sitar as my soundtrack I go into a trance so that the dream and life are now one in the same. I have made a nest here- surrounded myself in warmth and comfort. I sleep now and the poetry enters my dreams and makes me live the poetry.
A word mumbled in the night: "Sandwiches"
"The kind you eat?" "Of course, are there any other kind?" And back to sleep.
Note: I didn't sleep much during the week, even when during an all night workshop about dreams, sleep was the main idea. Since I've been home I've been dreaming a lot.
6/8/07 (still)- The collective sigh "Ahh" "Ohh" when the poem is done and no one knows if they should laugh or cry or clap or cheer, but they just sigh. "Ahh" "Ohh" We feel together the poem and let the sound escape from our lips almost involuntarily. "Ahh" "Ohh" is enough to express how we are all feeling.
6/9/07- You would have laughed- because it really is silly. 100 people holding hands, chanting, dancing, circling through and around each other. You would have laughed because it was almost too beautiful to not laugh, not cry. This would have been funny as a parody if it were not so true. You would have laughed, but I could not laugh. Instead I sang and turned and let the remembering enter me. I could have laughed, but I did not laugh and I'm glad.
6/10/07- We painted our faces blue. I don't think the kids understood exactly why we were doing it. They ended up having to go to bed before the talk even started. Why we were doing it didn't matter quite as much as the fact that it was fun. When is it not fun to paint your face blue and lay on the floor to listen to stories. We were honoring Krishna; but we were really just having random fun.
6/11/07- We held hands and chanted. . . "Good where I am, good where I'm going to be" we started to circle around. Passing now familiar faces that just a week ago seemed strange. As the circle got closer the chant grew softer. Soon we were in one gigantic group hug. I hope no one is claustrophobic. I realized that I was no longer standing on my own but being held up, supported by the circle.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Small engine repair. . .
"Learn the Arts, Double the Madness!"
Ok, so I've been home from Maine for almost a week now. First, let me just say that the conference was awesome and Maine is gorgeous. My birthday was great- I couldn't have asked to spend my 25th in a more beautiful place with nicer people. Being in this great place with a whole bunch of artists and writers really got my poetic juices flowing. I wrote a lot. Being in the woods and not working allowed me the time and space that I needed to write. Not having my computer with me meant that I had to write the old fashioned way- in my journal.
Anyway, first, about the conference itself:
The Conference on the Great Mother and the New Father (GMC) was stared by Robert Bly over 30 years ago. My understanding is that the conference was started for the purpose of gathering together talented and interested men and women to take a soulful journey together through mythology, storytelling, music, art, poetry and community. It's not really a conference, but more of a summer camp for adults. The theme of this year's conference was Sufism and particularly focused on the poetry of Rumi and Hafez. Right now Robert Bly is in the process of translating Hafez (which is one reason that the conference focused on the Sufis). Before this, I had never heard of either of these poets and actually knew very little about Sufism. You may have heard of Whirling Dervishes. . . but like me had no idea what a dervish was or why they were whirling. Well, now I know. I think.
In addition to the Sufi stuff (which was actually only a small part of the conference) there were a ton of poets, both young and old, artists, music and dancing. My favorite poet was probably Tony Hoagland. His poems were funny but heartfelt and although I don't usually buy poetry, I bought his book. . . I also particularly loved Gioia Timpanelli (pronounced Joy-a), who is this amazing storyteller and the lovely background music provided by David Whetstone on sitar and Marcus Wise on tabla. Do you know how great it is to hear a lovely story being told or poem being read with a sitar? Well, let me just tell you that it is great. The sitar adds this dreamy, almost surreal quality to everything . . . I'll add some thoughts from my journal soon . . .
Ok, so I've been home from Maine for almost a week now. First, let me just say that the conference was awesome and Maine is gorgeous. My birthday was great- I couldn't have asked to spend my 25th in a more beautiful place with nicer people. Being in this great place with a whole bunch of artists and writers really got my poetic juices flowing. I wrote a lot. Being in the woods and not working allowed me the time and space that I needed to write. Not having my computer with me meant that I had to write the old fashioned way- in my journal.
Anyway, first, about the conference itself:
The Conference on the Great Mother and the New Father (GMC) was stared by Robert Bly over 30 years ago. My understanding is that the conference was started for the purpose of gathering together talented and interested men and women to take a soulful journey together through mythology, storytelling, music, art, poetry and community. It's not really a conference, but more of a summer camp for adults. The theme of this year's conference was Sufism and particularly focused on the poetry of Rumi and Hafez. Right now Robert Bly is in the process of translating Hafez (which is one reason that the conference focused on the Sufis). Before this, I had never heard of either of these poets and actually knew very little about Sufism. You may have heard of Whirling Dervishes. . . but like me had no idea what a dervish was or why they were whirling. Well, now I know. I think.
In addition to the Sufi stuff (which was actually only a small part of the conference) there were a ton of poets, both young and old, artists, music and dancing. My favorite poet was probably Tony Hoagland. His poems were funny but heartfelt and although I don't usually buy poetry, I bought his book. . . I also particularly loved Gioia Timpanelli (pronounced Joy-a), who is this amazing storyteller and the lovely background music provided by David Whetstone on sitar and Marcus Wise on tabla. Do you know how great it is to hear a lovely story being told or poem being read with a sitar? Well, let me just tell you that it is great. The sitar adds this dreamy, almost surreal quality to everything . . . I'll add some thoughts from my journal soon . . .
Saturday, June 2, 2007
I'm off to the North
I'll be in Maine for 8 days for the Great Mother Conference. I am not bringing my computer. I am going to enjoy nature. Please don't call me unless it's an emergancy. I need this break from the constant wired state. It is possibly the worst time in the world for me to go away, and I don't care, which surely means that it's a good time for me to go. I will bring my journal and write in it. I will talk about my trip when I get home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
