Although I often I dismiss the large, public obituaries as odd and morbid, I found myself tearing up this afternoon when the NY Times reported that Madeleine L'Engle had died.

My mother was a children's librarian, and I think we read the first of these books together. My love of the fantastic is completely a result of having read L'Engle's children's books. Many of my perceptions of what it meant to be a girl are based on Meg, Meg's mother, and Polly. I couldn't be the person I am without having read these books.

I can't re-read them with the same sense of urgency as I did growing up, but I still love them fiercely. Will my kids feel the same way about them? It is doubtful, but I hope that as my angsty, smart and entirely love-able girls grow up, they will be able to find someone with as much tenderness to envision strong, smart women who have power in the world, in ways that cannot be described in corporate by-laws.

I just realized that I haven't checked my lj in a million years. Reading through all these ancient posts I've missed makes me full of angst over too little time to participate.

To say that my life is busy is just repeating the obvious. I need to be better organized with all the internet stuff I want to be up on. With work and home and general improvement all taking their own time, I feel like I could be making technology work for me better. Don't tell Slortar. He already has submitted me to the first three steps of "Luddite Wife to High-tech Sweetie in Ten Easy Steps." Needless to say, we are not on speaking terms about the Outlook synch-ing and smart phone with e-mail, and how often I need to synch, check, charge, and synch again.

We mostly talk about comic books, right now. I mean, I talk about comics, and he looks at me like I've just crawled out from under a strange and unusual rock. I've been checking out (ha ha, literally) the graphic novel collections of all the libraries I frequent. (Since I am a substitute librarian covering 32 libraries, this is more than you might think.)

I have had to do some serious librarian work to track down all the girl-centered, 5-8 year old appropriate books, as well anything that I want to read. 'Cause guess who things that comics are for kids? (Yeah, good guess. My kids.) If I want to read all the Bill Willingham "Fables" then I have to bring home "Oddly Normal" (Otis Frampton) so that I am not a horrible Mom, only bringing home books for myself. There is too broad a range of violence in most teen-rated comics, so they have to stick with the juvies. Batgirl Year One (Scott Beatty) was an excellent exception, if a little violent, but all the Catwoman series were too much for little brains to process without serious mom intervention. I'm not bringing those home anymore. "Girl Genius" (Bill and Kaja Foglio) is something I love,and I am OK with Juno reading right now, although we are still waiting for our personal copies, the libraries having not yet processed my eloquent requests for volumes 3-6 of the series.

The fact that I just spouted all of that about comics makes me thing that I could really use an outlet for my reading habit. I should join some kind of graphic novel reading group.

I promise to be a good geekmomma and keep posting, if for no other reason that I feel like I have to follow through on my account. I have no idea how to delete it.

I'm off to prepare for the first day of school by taking my kids to a movie.

I took a Rocky Horror quiz, and I am the narrator.




I trust you remember my ill-fated match up with the "Harry Potter" quiz, hmm?

I am discovering a new addiction to web comics. Probably this is funded greatly by my short attention span, and the teetering piles of things I don't want to do, but Cat and Girl just rocks my socks most days. Today was excellent, so I'm sharing:
http://www.catandgirl.com/view.php?435

Also, still very much digging the Scary Go Round--always weird, always well dressed, always so pleasantly cliff-hangery:
http://www.scarygoround.com/ar.php

The best thing about these things is that they are readable in the amount of time available to me, that is, between taking home the bacon, frying it up in a pan, and never letting you forget you're a man.

That's all folks. Have you noticed the snow?

One of the best things in the world is a good sandwich. And I can't think of anyone who would go to more lengths to prove this than my friend Chewbecca. I just found out that she is documenting her culinary prowess in a blog about sandwiches. What, I ask you, could be better? Just, nothing!

Sandwiches I have loved:
http://rebeccanewberry.blogspot.com/

Job Change Imminent You can’t make me sit here and sell my soul one little piece each day. You can’t tell me I’ve got to get up, smile at people I don’t respect all day long, and give me nothing but a paycheck. You won’t be the one to sign away my time, blunt my patience down to nothing, make me holler at my babies when all they want is love. You’re not anyone to shove me around and make me do what I don’t want to. I do that fine all by myself.

That would be me. Unable to hold temper either during unexpected workday lunch with spouse, or home with tired children at end of day. With spouse and tired children combined, the capacity for crabbiness increases exponentially directly in proportion to the amount of whining.

There was so much whining tonight, I think that I may have reached a new level of crabby. I think I was responsible for a health dose of it myself. It would be nice to say that we all sleep and it gets better in the morning. Let us say that, and not think too much on it anymore this evening.

I think this time of year there should be mandatory fun. How does one arrange that?

Laid out by Merlot

You're just laying it out there.
I come home from another preschool meeting,
you've consumed the wine I bought last week for $7.99 at Costco
after putting the kids to sleep,
believing yourself to be making a statement,
drinking alone.

You ask what kind of honesty I want from you,
I tell you that I think we should be just honest, not any kind at all.
You say -never mind- in the way that guarantees I won't leave you alone until
you've told me what you want to tell me anyway.

I badger you into a disclosure of sorts.
Of course I still think you love your past loves!
I admit, it is disturbing to think that they may be approaching you for
some kind of salvation at this point in our lives.

Maybe I'm just jaded,
but you both seem a bit tarnished.
What kind of redemption comes from trysting out of aging insecurity?

Later, as we lie next to each other in the dark night
I am disturbed by how seriously you take it,
how frivolous my secret daydreams of past loves,
colleagues and friends seem to me.
I'm hurt that you think you only love me because I'm practical,
that you say you can never love me like you loved her.

Hmm. No posting must mean I am busy. I actually have no memory for the past three months...Either life has been hectic, or I am the victim of alien abduction.

Summary:
Sick but stable Mom-in-law
nice by crazy Pop-in-law
new daycare
new-old dog (she doesn't smell as bad, now that she's taking her pills.)
two kids in school, one at the new daycare
piano lessons
birthday parties
grocery shopping
husband in school (sometimes a gun nut)
more hours at work to pay for daycare
new substitute librarian job on the side (for which I've been training since July. I'll finish up on the 18th of october, and then I can start working. something is desperately wrong with this. I am either extremely valued, or extremely untrustworthy.)
law needs mowed
fruit flies have invaded the kitchen
I'm tired and irritable and loathe perky women who can walk their kids home from the bus every day.

I've read every bad Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter story available on e-books. There is something desperately wrong with me!

The kids and I spent a lovely hour at 10pm with the locals at the Hunter's Inn on 65 last night. They were friendly and rambunctious after a fabulous horse-shoe tournament. Surprisingly, I'm not joking. The kids got free Shirley Temples, snacks and Rhea won a teddy bear from one of those Claw things...I've been trying to win ANYTHING from one of those for the last 34 years. I got to use the phone for free, and they told me I could leave my van in the parking lot overnight for free!

Anyway, next time your transmission goes out after a late night trip to the in-laws while your husband is at class, I recommend the Hunters Inn.


On a completely separate note, we have semi-adopted Chrissy, my mom-in-law's smelly doggy. I took her to the vet yesterday: double ear infection, bladder infection and bladder stones. No wonder she was a crabby little doggy. She's already getting better, but now I have committed myself to cleaning her ears every other day.

Gray memory
April 24, 2006

A little tired something...

Gray Memory

I want to put you back into being
put you together with water and memory
Fill the cracks in with slip,
slip you back here
As you would into the black water
As you would into the silver boat
Thwack
The sound of falling
Thwack
The sound of water slapping sides
Thwack
The sound of the boat on the water and the water on the wood
Thwack

All the pieces fall into place,
you in the boat on the water on a gray day.
All the pieces are there.
Still, still, pieces.

There are days when it seems like being alive is enough, and days when it seems important to save the world, and then there are days when it all seems like folly.

I got a job as a substitute librarian at Hennepin County, which is a great opportunity, and I am very exited about it. I also got an interview for a library job at Ramsey County, and came out high on their list of candidates, although due to the way they hire people, I have no idea if I will even be up for a job or not...

I was feeling pretty smug, I suppose. I'm not now. Now I'm tired.

Our vacation up north just came and went, and I miss my Grandma very much. Her absence was a very strong force in our family together time. I visited the memorial site we made for Gma and Gpa just for a brief minute, but it made me wish them back very strongly.

And now this other thing...the face to face reality that death doesn't just come and broadside you and then go away, but is in a constant tug of war with life. It doesn't seem fair--just when I start to feel equilibrium again, that skeletal hand reaches up and grabs an ankle. Well, it doesn't have a complete hold yet. We'll find out Thursday, I think, about Mom-in-law's status, but it looks like cancer, and in a bad way.

Well, that was a bit of a downer. Don't go calling Slortar or anything, it all just came out today. Off I go to Cambridge to find out more.

One of my friend at work remarked this morning that next to my nameplate it should read "WAH!" because I say it and type it so often. (And why I have a nameplate in my completely deserted basement cubicle is another story.)

But it is such a GOOD word.

Anyway, it is going to rain, I'm headed up to Grand Marais again, I haven't seen my kids in several days, and the best I can do, sharing-wise is to tell you that X-men 3 was a fair to good movie, with many, many, many, many, many liberties taken. Pretend you've never read the comic, only watched the kids morning TV show once, then age it up 15 years with a great big dollop of sexual tension. Presto! X-men 3.

Someone please tell my darling Slortar to cut it out with the smoking, hunting, and drinking. I don't even know this man anymore! Well, he's awfully familiar, but when did he become the good ole' boy red-neck Filipino?

I've been totally out of it for the last month. My kids have gone to a co-op preschool, and I'm a board member. The second week of May we got notice that the church we've been in for 52 YEARS was not going to renew our lease for next year...uh, there was some panicking, and rabble rousing, and I had to direct a lot of really hyped up people. It is all good now, we got a one year extension, and we don't want their crummy ole basement, anyway.

I'm the queen of preschool organization, baby.

And, I had a good review at my relatively stable and interesting job which happens to directly support the evil university.
And I had a job interview at Hennepin County libraries as a sub.
And I went to Grand Marais.
And I gave a birthday party, hosted two sets of cousins who came to town, worked at a neighborhood ice cream social, attended training for girl scout camp in two weeks (Yea! Camp Lakamaga!), was trained in to work at the food co-op, went to the dentist, wrote nothing at all, except a fair and balanced letter to the church, got sunburned, had a really good glass of wine (yeah, just one in a whole month) slept very poorly and saw my husband and kids almost not at all.

I am going out of town again this weekend, otherwise I would very much like to come to Derek's soiree on Friday. It would be nice to finally meet the small and mighty Ezra, he of the 8pm bedtime. Alas! Earwax!

Blah blah de blah blah blah.

Ok, real life has been a bore lately, what with the whole evil conservative job that doesn't pay well, the husband who is never home, or always talking about non-profit management, and the kids who suck the energy out of me like...something that really sucks a lot of energy--ooo, like an 1972 goldenrod frigidaire.

Is it any wonder that I am back to my shifty nite-time antics of surfing and reading fan-fiction? I mean, who can blame me?

Anyway, I have been seriously wronged by my alternative universe. I was investigating some personality quizzes (this was actually a work sanctioned activity, but don't ask about that) and I found an inventory that corresponds to Harry Potter characters. So, of course I took it.

Do you know whose personality I have? You'll never guess. You'll never guess because NO ONE WILL EVER THINK OF THIS CHARACTER!!!!! I'm freeking Madame Maxime.

And my S.O. extraordinaire, the fun-maker of all things Harry Potter? Sucky Slortar takes the quiz, and he gets to be SIRIUS BLACK.

I cannot even believe it. I think I will have to go...well, become a whole lot cooler, I guess. Maybe finding a new job will help that.

Freeking giantesses.

(and I meant to include this) the quiz be here: http://piratemonkeysinc.com/quiz.htm

I just had my first overnight road-trip adventure with my three kids (6,4 and 2) -alone-. I think we all survived admirably, and I would definately do it again.

I think part of the reason things went smoothly can be attributed to our aloneness. Most of the time when we go on a trip, we are accompanied by my children's father. He is a most admirable gentleman in the presence of electrical outlets, but upon being stuck in a mini-van for five hours with his wife and small children, becomes slightly diminished in patience and character.

He is not a "drive five hours to look at a waterfall, then sleep on the floor, wake up at dawn and walk down to look at more water the next day" kind of guy. Which was sort of our agenda.

We did miss him, and the kids and I discovered that the best way to make your mother (that's me) feel awful was to shout "I just wish Daddy were here!" in varying tones of voice at every occaision where things are not going your way. They stopped doing it after three days, however.

Slortar cleaned the house while we were gone. Even the bathrooms. He must have missed me.

When I read my e-mails this morning, there was a long talk from the Dean of whatever who supervises our group at the University. He talked about reviews, and the feelings of ennui right now coming out of winter, and threw in a bit in the middle where we were all struggling to figure out our place in terms of the now universally know Travel Policy Issue. Then he added that there would be two listening sessions where we could come and tell Father President how we really felt. The first one is today. In three hours.

Well, let us not debate the issue, I got the message in time, and I went. (Was this posted other places? I don't know. The seconds session is March 30th on the Minneapolis campus, so get a move on if you want to go.) I was very nervous. I feel every day like I am questioning my place, working as I do for a Catholic University, and being a reasonable, but whoa-baby so much more liberal than you know woman.

I am still anxious to see what the future brings, but I would like to commend everyone who spoke today. You were eloquent, you were proud, and you spoke out for not only yourselves,but for your friends and neighbors and colleagues and people you don't even know. You spoke with grace and I believe, true compassion for everyone, and you made the point over and over that our job as thinking people is to respect everyone, embrace differences, and engage in critical and lively discussion about what these differences mean. Even if they make us uncomfortable. (Even if, God forbid, they make Students uncomfortable.)

I know that this is a thorny issues at this time, and in this place. I know what the stance on being gay and lesbian is, according to the Catholic rule books. I know we all signed up to work here, knowing these things.

But by being present, and being upfront, and being real, we can show the doubters that love is love, that respect is needed for everyone, even if you don't agree with them. We show everyone that a relationship is not sealed with the official documents, but is in the actions of the people who agree to be in it. Personally, I am still talking to my colleagues and friends and trying to be as upfront as I can (being married to a man makes all kinds of assumptions easy to coast on.)

But I have a little bit more hope for things today.

My computer is being fixed again. I feel so at sea without it! I am using Slortar's but he is very possessive. I can only use it when he is not home, not at work, and not at class. This equals about 15 minutes every two weeks.

Anyway, I have been up to nothing excited, except I am going to read some of my poems in public on Wednesday night. I've been taking a class a the Loft, which has been great if for no other reason that I get two hours each week to write. My last class is this Sunday, and I will miss it. I have to admit that I am terrified about the reading part. The Loft has an open mike thingy for anyone who is currently taking a class, and one of my co-poetical people goaded me into it.

Well, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Or maims us permanently.

Eh, so I gave my two year old a lame present, and now I'm sharing it:

For Izzy

Twinkle bright eyes,
flying fingers,
ape and little copycat.

Glinting white teeth,
courting danger,
“Climb up now!” “Sit on that!”

Sister’s playmate,
sister’s nightmare,
hide the books and steal the toys.

Tufted brown curls,
stringy quick limbs,
momma’s lapful, proud, the boy.

I just got back from a Chinese New Year celebration. It was a surprisingly fun family adventure. I was confused for large portions of the program, which adds a lot. I was really confused during the skit about Chinese language school. Teenagers speaking Chinese and the only words I understood were "Korean Soap Opera".

The highlight of the program was during a particularly long dance done by a herd of 12 year dancers. My four year old, who has a fabulously raspy smoker voice, said really, really, loudly:

"Mommy, why do they keep showing us their legs?"

I guess it loses something, but it was amusing at the time. My mom in law and I just started giggling.

The drummers at the end of the program were absolutely fabulous. I loved them, and want to become a Chinese drumming fan girl, starting today.