Insomnia

Right now, I wish I were this:

But instead, I am this:















Balls.

Blog Lang Syne

I stoled this idea from a couple of brainy women.

February: This is the first blog I've ever written--and it was prompted by some bad news.

March: Just found out I'm moving to NY in the fall, to work on the faculty of St. John's.

April: Yesterday (Tuesday) morning--So I woke up yesterday morning to the sound of running water in my laundry room.

May: I have recently discovered the Tootsie Roll Pops are a wonderful device for invention.

June: When I get to New York, I want to hang out with this guy.

July: One week until the defense.

August: Who invented ice cream? Because I'd like to shake his/her hand.

September: I love football season, but we should probably leave before Zack starts calling everybody bitch.

October: I just got back from the DMV with my New York license in my wallet.

November: So it's been a couple of weeks, and my favorite tech-stalker has told me to stop with the not-blogging and start with the blogging.

December: I just finished reading Dune.

I might be a Redneck

Here's the story:
I went out with some old friends on Saturday night in my Alabama hometown. We had a good time, ran into some other old acquaintances (which is always so interesting because many of these people were sadistic assholes in seventh grade, and now we hug. weird). Anyway, we saw some music, we drank some gin, we laughed--it was wonderful. These are great friends, and I miss them.

So, after we closed the bars down, A and I were hungry. And, in Huntsville, AL, there are only 2 places you can go when you're hungry at 2AM: Waffle House or Krystal. Waffle House is good, but you have to sit. We wanted to go, so we stopped by Krystal (mmmm, little tiny hamburgers and chili cheese fries). There were a zillion people in line. We waited for a while, and then, right before we were about to order--my other friend popped in. He wanted us to order for him and the two people in his car.

I saw the looks on the faces of those behind us, and I thought, "oh no." So I went to the bathroom. And when I came out, my two friends were arguing with the two guys behind us. And things were escalating.

Lots of "Fuck yous" were thrown around. The little guy (the Bantam Rooster) said, "If I were ten years younger, I'd kick your ass." And I said, "You're gonna have a heart attack if you keep yelling at random people about things out of your control." And some other stuff.

Pretty soon, the patrons were mostly soothed. We reminded everybody that it was Christmas and that Scrooge is actually the Bad Guy--and there were these two cute boys who were standing between my friends and the Bantam Rooster, saying," It's alright, everybody's gonna get their food, let's just calm down."

Anyway, the food finally came. By the time it did, we were the heroes of the place--because we are charming and not assholes (mostly). The second of the original guys, as were leaving, said to my friend, "Thanks, Jackass!" With this dopey grin on his face.

However, Bantam Rooster and his icky friends were not happy, so, as we were leaving, one of them said these two things to me!!:
1) Hey, hooker, you need to stop wearing those boots.
2) And maybe you should think about plastic surgery on your eyebrows.

Wait, what? My EYEbrows? I should have been a better person. I should have realized that these people are from Lacey's Springs, and that their lives are small and their perspectives smaller. I should have recognized that I come from a place where Scrooge is the Bad Guy. Instead, I said, "Yeah, and maybe you should stop hanging out with rednecks at Krystal, Fatty Boombelatty.'

For serious.

You might be a redneck if you get in fights at Krystal.

My mom, the movie critic

Mom's Summary of "13th Warrior":

"How typical of men... to fight with each other over who's got the bigger penis when everybody's about to get ravaged and torn apart and eaten by varmints."

Light-headed,
I am holding my breath.
I am waiting for you.

I cannot think.
I am Useless and Bitter, and I cannot think.
I used to be better at seeing you.
I used to be better at saving you.

Trying to keep myself busy, I am mixing magic.
It is time-consuming,
all-hands
all-fingers
concentration.
The stirring must be constant.
The temperatures, precise.

I will cast a spell.
And after you wake, we will drink syrupy sweet, iced tea.
It will be summer.
You will be tired and beautiful.

Trying to keep myself busy, I practice war.
Running,
I stretch my arms over my head.
and pull my hair out by the roots.
I will discard the extra;
I will become
Limitless and omnipotent,
And I will pull you out of the abyss.

I stand, feet wide apart:
I am a remorseless Samurai.
I brace myself for the onslaught:
I am a bloodthirsty Viking.
I build a fortress out of rage:
I am a righteous God.

I am holding my breath,
I am waiting for you.

On being effective

It's the very end of the semester. I just uploaded my final grades for the fall, and I am so sorry that I had to do everything from long-distance. Despite all that, my students rocked it. They are wonderful, and they made this first semester as a prof totally fun.

Sometimes, though, I wonder how much these people will remember. I know I share these concerns with my fellow teachers. So, when I received the following note from a student I taught last spring, I did a little dance:

"So all that stuff about structure of papers and speeches that you went on and on about in class last semester believe it or not actually got put to good use recently. We had a take home test in [insert class name here] and I used the forms you taught us and got a 99. I thought to myself, James would be so proud. Just thought I would let you know!"

Triumph is a good note to end the semester on, I think.

In the Spirit of Z

I have loved George Michael since I was 10. I only discovered Robert Earl Keen when I got to Texas... which was a shame. I wish I'd known him earlier.

I will write something more substantial in this blog at some point. Right now, though, because I am thinking very hard about the people that I love (and my heart is tired and far away), anything longer than a few sentences would ring false. So, in the Spirit of Z and Christmas and not-blogging, this post goes out to my family and the Fogelboys and Southerners, in general.

If Captain Picard were here

things would be better.

A Revelation

I was talking to a dear friend the other night about going home for the holidays. He is from Texas, and he was telling me about the high school friends he will see this year. They work at places like the mall and oil processing plants. The friends that I will see, on the other hand, work for politicians and websites, law firms, hospitals and universities, in music and in movies. They are bakers and lawyers and consumers of MoMA.

As we were sitting there on the bus, I said two little prayers:

1) Thank you, deity, for bringing this wonderful friend into my life.

And

2) Thank you, deity, for reminding me, every once in a while (in both soft and hard ways) how blessed I am to know the people that I know, to have the things that I have, and to remember the things that I remember.

Amen.

Things I Love

Hearing the voices of old friends

Hot tea with Drambuie

Ginger

Making out

Good sentences that seem to come from somewhere else

Waking up on sunny days

Smart people doing interesting things

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" sung by Neil Diamond

Things I Hate

Smugness

Not being able to zip cute dresses up over boobs

Feeling fat because of the above

Feeling petty because of the above

Sallie Mae

Discussions of retirement plans

Texting during class

Endings

Reading Time

This love affair has lasted longer than we thought it would.

Actually,
If we thought about it at all,
We thought mostly with our fingers
And our hands,
With quick breaths
And naked, arching, limpid throats.
With fast-and-furious,
With slow-and-deliberate,
We thought around the possibility of time.
We thought we could act ourselves
Free.

But we are still in this place,
This demanding and insistent love affair…
A place where the words we use
Sleep next to us,
Rather than the partners we chose,
Years ago.
We are locked into place
By syllables
And analysis.
This is a prison.
We did not make it,
But (we must admit)
We sang.
We were the canaries—
Thinking (with our tongues and with our legs and with our wrists and elbows)
That this place would have to,
Would absolutely have to,
Diminish...
Ever So Slowly
Slowly
Slowly
With Time.

Apparently,

December the fifth is Ninja Day--which is awesome.

Snow, Snow, Snow

It snowed yesterday, and it was gorgeous. Today is weird and not-so-cold, so the snow has all melted. But I gotta tell ya, living somewhere that snow is normal might not be so bad.

In honor of the snow, and the holidays, and my eternal love for George Michael, here are two music videos that capture the spirit (multi-consumed and hyper-mythical) of a snow-filled Christmas with(out) love.

1) Judy Garland's "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." The quintessential melancholic Christmas song, this version is the original. Current versions of the song are happier, sung in present tense and inclusive. Judy's is not... instead of "hanging a shining star upon the highest bow," in this song we just "have to muddle through somehow."


2)Wham's "Last Christmas." Deep, symbolic (note the down-turned brooch), and filled with hot eighties people frolicking, this video is still one of my favorites.

Mind Erasers and Vegan Things

I just finished reading Dune. It is wonderful, and I miss it already. I wish I could erase it from my head, like with one of those sticks from "Men in Black," so I could read it again. That would be neat.

Also, I need a vegan recipe for potluck. We are having a Saturnalia party in my classes, and I am bringing my famed White Trash Veggie Casserole. However, because it is a white trash sort of dish, it is not-so-vegan-friendly. Can anybody recommend a savory vegan-friendly dish to bring along with that one?

And you will know me by the trail of happy, well-fed vegans.