Hypothesis:
In love,
opposites attract.
It is important to be
exact
in such a scientific endeavor.
The null is that they don't, or
is it the other way around? Well,
what I'm saying is vice
versa--on the other hand,
it probably just
depends
on what opposites are of issue;
the hair, the shoes, the food,
the state, how late, the urges
followed, the passions expressed.
Maybe
it's the tiniest of things
that catches our ire,
like the tadpole with four eyes
or the dirty canary,
the answer is provided to those
for whom these details
matter most.
More likely, however, that chaos
rules the lives of the loved.
Bruised and warmed, we rush blindly
onward
through walls and light.
Copyright 2005 F.E. Wright All Rights Reserved.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Friday, February 18, 2005
Witching Hour
Night person I am not. So how I have managed to stay up this late and be alert without coffee, I have no idea about. I wish that I could sit, staring at this laptop, in a different time-space, while the world around me rushed by. If I can muster it up, I'd like to write about the good things that happened today. I "bonded" with my fellow search committee members over a really weird candidate interviewing experience. I had a good talk with my friend S. I felt connected to something larger than myself in looking at photos of Ossie Davis' funeral and in helping my advisee to write a personal statement in order to get a fellowship.
Those are some good things. But I've fallen down with my parenting...I've been so short tempered and irritable.
I just need some time to myself. Some rest. Time to exercise. Time to just get MY shit together, basically. So what do you do when you don't have that? This blog is getting ridiculously repetitive: "Oh, poor me, overworked mom." If I can't think of anything different to say, you won't be hearing from me for a while.
Those are some good things. But I've fallen down with my parenting...I've been so short tempered and irritable.
I just need some time to myself. Some rest. Time to exercise. Time to just get MY shit together, basically. So what do you do when you don't have that? This blog is getting ridiculously repetitive: "Oh, poor me, overworked mom." If I can't think of anything different to say, you won't be hearing from me for a while.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
What Suzy Did at School Today
I asked A. what she did at preschool today as I was setting up my laptop and getting ready for the big push to get a second application in for a job but she wouldn't tell me. She would tell me what "Suzy Did." Hmmm...Here's an excerpt:
"And then what did she do when she sat at the table?"
"She at a snack, like this. And she ate some apples and some crackers and some fruit, and she ate it all!"
"And then what did she do?"
"She read some books and she took a nap."
Sounds good to me. I would love to take a nap. What is it that I most want to do today? I would really like to have ANOTHER peanut butter and jelly sandwich, or a Dunkin Donuts number 1 special. But, I keep reminding myself that I want to look good when S.O. graduates, and when it gets to be summertime. I want to look good when I can afford to buy some new clothes and shoes. *Sigh.* Dunkin Donuts=immediate gratification. Looking good three months from now...you do the math. I suppose if I was exercising now, I could get the psychological lift from that right now...but I would still want some donuts. So would the exercising cancel out the donut eating? Not unless I exercised for about five hours...this is the type of meaningless decision making that I wish I could cut out from my brain. OR I could just take a pill to get rid of my donut dependency and that would be that.
"And then what did she do when she sat at the table?"
"She at a snack, like this. And she ate some apples and some crackers and some fruit, and she ate it all!"
"And then what did she do?"
"She read some books and she took a nap."
Sounds good to me. I would love to take a nap. What is it that I most want to do today? I would really like to have ANOTHER peanut butter and jelly sandwich, or a Dunkin Donuts number 1 special. But, I keep reminding myself that I want to look good when S.O. graduates, and when it gets to be summertime. I want to look good when I can afford to buy some new clothes and shoes. *Sigh.* Dunkin Donuts=immediate gratification. Looking good three months from now...you do the math. I suppose if I was exercising now, I could get the psychological lift from that right now...but I would still want some donuts. So would the exercising cancel out the donut eating? Not unless I exercised for about five hours...this is the type of meaningless decision making that I wish I could cut out from my brain. OR I could just take a pill to get rid of my donut dependency and that would be that.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
"Mommy Madness" (Newsweek Article).
When you get a chance, check this out: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6959880/site/newsweek/page/7/
We DO have to find a way to managae things for ourselves as working women and mothers. This, I feel, is the biggest and most easily identifiable struggle that self-proclaimed feminists (whether first, second or third wave) have to undertake. We can't keep taking on more and more--the housework, the children, our jobs, ourselves, being politically active, community-oriented, involved in our churches, extended families and on and on and expect that we will remain sane and not work ourselves into real or mental early graves....
We DO have to find a way to managae things for ourselves as working women and mothers. This, I feel, is the biggest and most easily identifiable struggle that self-proclaimed feminists (whether first, second or third wave) have to undertake. We can't keep taking on more and more--the housework, the children, our jobs, ourselves, being politically active, community-oriented, involved in our churches, extended families and on and on and expect that we will remain sane and not work ourselves into real or mental early graves....
Sunday, February 13, 2005
The Push
It's already started, and only a week of the semester has passed. My face is breaking out. The dishes from last night are unwashed. There are clothes that are probably mildewing in the washing machine as we speak. Worst is the sense of hopelessness. I told my mother that if I could just take ONE of my professional responsibilities off of my plate, I think I could be sane. But of course that's not possible, so my only choice is to try to manage myself such that others don't realize I've completely lost my mind. This weekend my absolutely-have-to-do list included:
My fourth year appraisal form completed (at least 2 hours of work)
Work for Dianne (everyone in the project contacted, plus a draft of materials for the conference workshop or at least an outline, location of grants and contacting of people in the government)
Syllabus for my undergraduate class done and ready to be copied, website updated and current, postings to web in response to students...
Emails to all recommenders for the position I'm applying for (that one is actually DONE)
Responding to Ann's draft
Finish cover letter
Complete readings for both classes (approximately 150 pages)
Email advisee about grant application due in two weeks, and his recommenders
Email faculty affiliated with my course, set meetings for the semester
Significant work on my article
Significant work on my chapter (due at the end of the month)
Planning for next week (next week is actually today)--including, research project, research writing time, and plans for classes
And so, all of that is supposed to be done by midnight tonight, and it's 7:48am, which means that A. has already given me some unanticipated work time. But how to do all of this? When I try to work while A. is awake, she comes and stands next to my computer. She stares into my eyes (this alone is torture). She puts her hand on the laptop as if by touching it, she can absorb some of the magnetic energy that keeps me attached to it, clicking away. I feel so sad about that, most of all. What am I doing to her 2 1/2 year old brain? What teenage angst is being cultured? It would be less painful if she didn't look so much like me. I showed S.O. some of my kid pictures and he said it was like looking at A. at 7, 10, 14.
I know, already, that damage has been done. It doesn't take much to know that if your kid watches tv when they wake up (1 hour), tv when they come home from day care (anywhere from 1 1/2 to 3 1/2 hrs during the day, plus 2 hours of what grownups are watching), tv on the weekend (5-7 hours of the tv being on, although she plays after about 2 hours and stops to stare at the tube intermittently) that there is something wrong. So, as a "test" I turned the tv off 1 hour after she'd gotten up from her nap yesterday. It took two hours before both of us were in tv withdrawal. Fifty times, at least "Mommy I wanna watch some tv. I wanna watch tv, I wanna turn the tv on."
Me: "no."
A: "Yes!"
Me: "No."
A: "Yes!!!"
Me: "A, I said NO."
A: "YESSSS!! I wanna watch tv!" (tears and snot commence).
And the kicker? I wanted SOOO badly to turn it on. Not for her, but for myself. There should be a cigarette-type warning etched into the screen. But, I didn't turn it on...One small step for overworking mothers everywhere, one giant step for F.E.Wright.
My fourth year appraisal form completed (at least 2 hours of work)
Work for Dianne (everyone in the project contacted, plus a draft of materials for the conference workshop or at least an outline, location of grants and contacting of people in the government)
Syllabus for my undergraduate class done and ready to be copied, website updated and current, postings to web in response to students...
Emails to all recommenders for the position I'm applying for (that one is actually DONE)
Responding to Ann's draft
Finish cover letter
Complete readings for both classes (approximately 150 pages)
Email advisee about grant application due in two weeks, and his recommenders
Email faculty affiliated with my course, set meetings for the semester
Significant work on my article
Significant work on my chapter (due at the end of the month)
Planning for next week (next week is actually today)--including, research project, research writing time, and plans for classes
And so, all of that is supposed to be done by midnight tonight, and it's 7:48am, which means that A. has already given me some unanticipated work time. But how to do all of this? When I try to work while A. is awake, she comes and stands next to my computer. She stares into my eyes (this alone is torture). She puts her hand on the laptop as if by touching it, she can absorb some of the magnetic energy that keeps me attached to it, clicking away. I feel so sad about that, most of all. What am I doing to her 2 1/2 year old brain? What teenage angst is being cultured? It would be less painful if she didn't look so much like me. I showed S.O. some of my kid pictures and he said it was like looking at A. at 7, 10, 14.
I know, already, that damage has been done. It doesn't take much to know that if your kid watches tv when they wake up (1 hour), tv when they come home from day care (anywhere from 1 1/2 to 3 1/2 hrs during the day, plus 2 hours of what grownups are watching), tv on the weekend (5-7 hours of the tv being on, although she plays after about 2 hours and stops to stare at the tube intermittently) that there is something wrong. So, as a "test" I turned the tv off 1 hour after she'd gotten up from her nap yesterday. It took two hours before both of us were in tv withdrawal. Fifty times, at least "Mommy I wanna watch some tv. I wanna watch tv, I wanna turn the tv on."
Me: "no."
A: "Yes!"
Me: "No."
A: "Yes!!!"
Me: "A, I said NO."
A: "YESSSS!! I wanna watch tv!" (tears and snot commence).
And the kicker? I wanted SOOO badly to turn it on. Not for her, but for myself. There should be a cigarette-type warning etched into the screen. But, I didn't turn it on...One small step for overworking mothers everywhere, one giant step for F.E.Wright.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Untitled No. 1
That cracking noise?
The sound so slight it is
now mostly memory
of something you thought
you heard
That was my world shifting
off its axis as I realize
I am not the person I once was
to you
Like the wandering lines
of ceilings or walls
that mark what seems to be
a home's settling
later known as its demise
I exist without really being
there until I make my move and
am marked, condemned.
Uninhabitable by anything except
the possibility
of what could have been.
The sound so slight it is
now mostly memory
of something you thought
you heard
That was my world shifting
off its axis as I realize
I am not the person I once was
to you
Like the wandering lines
of ceilings or walls
that mark what seems to be
a home's settling
later known as its demise
I exist without really being
there until I make my move and
am marked, condemned.
Uninhabitable by anything except
the possibility
of what could have been.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Two Good Things
I was SO glad to hear from my friend Enya today! It was a good omen, because I was on my way to teach a graduate course I’ve been wanting to teach for the longest, and I was also nervous because a colleague told me that she recommended the class to some students and she said it and looked at me in this “so don’t fuck up” kind of way. Maybe it was my imagination? Anyway. I was also nervous because there’s this graduate student taking the class who is an absolute superstar and simply exudes positive vibes like a frickin' plant light. And who wants to disappoint a person like that? If he was an asshole, maybe. But he’s not.
The class went really well considering that I constructed the syllabus in a total of 8 hours, tops. I know what you’re thinking. “F.E., you’re such a SLACKER!!!! If all professors were like you, the United States higher education system would fall to pieces!” Well maybe you're thinking that or maybe it’s just my internal cynic speaking. But this semester I am DETERMINED to make this class and my other class absolutely phenomenal. It’s an effort to get rid of the “bad-class-karma” I accumulated from last semester when the semester was over before I gave my students back their final projects. And…if I teach my classes well this semester, it will be some kind of consolation prize if I don’t manage to make my goal of publishing 50,000 articles in every top tier journal known to wo-man (which is what I said I would do in my fourth year review if they would pretty please with shugar on top give me a chance to make tenure).
The other cool thing is that I have this guy from New Zealand in my class and I’m thinking…I wonder if he knows C. (which is the only other person I’ve ever met from New Zealand)…but I’m also thinking “this is a graduate multicultural education class. How stereotypical and lame would it be if I said ‘hey, do you know C?’ as if ALL New Zealanders know each other). So I’m sitting there, and I start to ask, and then I stop, and then I start, and the guy just says, “C said to tell you hi.” It was another good omen and I’m just going to take it and keep on steppin. Do you ever feel like thanking your higher power and saying to that higher power “I know you know that I am a worthless piece of mole dung, but you keep giving me these chances to make good and I just want to let you know that I am going to try my hardest to get reincarnated as, say, Siamese cat dung, just to let you know how happy I am to have another chance at living a worthwhile life?” That’s sort of how I feel tonight. And even though it’s getting harder to think of things to write without really writing about some of the things that matter most in my life, I still can’t get enough of this stupidly great blogging thing. I’m self-loathing nerd, that's what I am. I just need to learn how to claim my nerdiness without apology.
The class went really well considering that I constructed the syllabus in a total of 8 hours, tops. I know what you’re thinking. “F.E., you’re such a SLACKER!!!! If all professors were like you, the United States higher education system would fall to pieces!” Well maybe you're thinking that or maybe it’s just my internal cynic speaking. But this semester I am DETERMINED to make this class and my other class absolutely phenomenal. It’s an effort to get rid of the “bad-class-karma” I accumulated from last semester when the semester was over before I gave my students back their final projects. And…if I teach my classes well this semester, it will be some kind of consolation prize if I don’t manage to make my goal of publishing 50,000 articles in every top tier journal known to wo-man (which is what I said I would do in my fourth year review if they would pretty please with shugar on top give me a chance to make tenure).
The other cool thing is that I have this guy from New Zealand in my class and I’m thinking…I wonder if he knows C. (which is the only other person I’ve ever met from New Zealand)…but I’m also thinking “this is a graduate multicultural education class. How stereotypical and lame would it be if I said ‘hey, do you know C?’ as if ALL New Zealanders know each other). So I’m sitting there, and I start to ask, and then I stop, and then I start, and the guy just says, “C said to tell you hi.” It was another good omen and I’m just going to take it and keep on steppin. Do you ever feel like thanking your higher power and saying to that higher power “I know you know that I am a worthless piece of mole dung, but you keep giving me these chances to make good and I just want to let you know that I am going to try my hardest to get reincarnated as, say, Siamese cat dung, just to let you know how happy I am to have another chance at living a worthwhile life?” That’s sort of how I feel tonight. And even though it’s getting harder to think of things to write without really writing about some of the things that matter most in my life, I still can’t get enough of this stupidly great blogging thing. I’m self-loathing nerd, that's what I am. I just need to learn how to claim my nerdiness without apology.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Limbo
Downstairs in the living room. Upstairs A is saying good night to her dad. The hum of heat from the register is a pleasant white noise and I only wish I felt more alert than I do now, otherwise I'd be working on that article that is little more than skin and bones. But I'm not a night owl. So, I'll probably stay up "late" watching tv and then be too tired to get up early in the morning. But, I AM looking forward to pancakes....
Snapshot No. 1
Sitting in the kitchen playing dueling laptops with my significant other. The snow is starting to melt and the thought of washing the cars while its hovering around 50 degrees has been flitting through my mind today. Retracing my steps...I got my international travel award application turned in--I gave it to the secretary, feeling all proud that I had gotten it in RIGHT before it went to the committee. She looks at it, looks at me, and then says "I think you're supposed to submit three copies." After I tell her I had no idea she says "Well, it's right on the instructions on the website." Okay, make me feel even more incompetent, right? So I sigh, and start to head home, wanting to call first, but, oh, I've left my cell phone in my office.
I get home, make burgers. Feel exceedingly funky since I haven't taken a shower and decide to take a shower. While in the shower I start to feel super positive about "life." I can DO this! The odds are against me/us, but I am NOT giving up! We're (my significant other and I) going to make it, we have to, for ourselves and for A!
So, after the motivational shower, I come downstairs, clean the bathroom, the living room (including A's potty chair left over from this morning's mad dash to the day care, misc. crayons, books, stickers, combs and brushes, blankets, remote, cell phone charger, blah blah blah), clean the kitchen, drink some ice water and sit down to start getting my self together.
And then I realize: (1) my 2004-2005 performance appraisal is due TODAY (2)the director of the community center was asking if I'd be back today not because he just wanted to chat but because I was supposed to have drafted a grant that's due next week (3) I still don't have my classes together for next week (4) I probably have 2 hours before I should pick up A from day care, (5) I have 88 messages, whittled down from 157, and all 88 really do require that I DO something (read and respond, write a draft of something, etc., file the attachment because "it's important," etc.).
So what do I do?
Make plans to handle as many emails as possible and leave early so I can drown my sorrows in a Dunkin Donuts number one special. By the way, one of the women who teaches in a classroom at A's day care asked me last week if I wanted a pair of pants that were too tight for her. I'm wearing them today and was slightly weirded out to know that although I consider myself a size 6, these size 10 pants fit pretty darn good. Now talking with my alter ego (Ms. Pre-C Section "Still-Thinks-She's-Twenty-and-Super-Fine") --I don't care what you say, I'm still going to Dunkin Donuts.
I get home, make burgers. Feel exceedingly funky since I haven't taken a shower and decide to take a shower. While in the shower I start to feel super positive about "life." I can DO this! The odds are against me/us, but I am NOT giving up! We're (my significant other and I) going to make it, we have to, for ourselves and for A!
So, after the motivational shower, I come downstairs, clean the bathroom, the living room (including A's potty chair left over from this morning's mad dash to the day care, misc. crayons, books, stickers, combs and brushes, blankets, remote, cell phone charger, blah blah blah), clean the kitchen, drink some ice water and sit down to start getting my self together.
And then I realize: (1) my 2004-2005 performance appraisal is due TODAY (2)the director of the community center was asking if I'd be back today not because he just wanted to chat but because I was supposed to have drafted a grant that's due next week (3) I still don't have my classes together for next week (4) I probably have 2 hours before I should pick up A from day care, (5) I have 88 messages, whittled down from 157, and all 88 really do require that I DO something (read and respond, write a draft of something, etc., file the attachment because "it's important," etc.).
So what do I do?
Make plans to handle as many emails as possible and leave early so I can drown my sorrows in a Dunkin Donuts number one special. By the way, one of the women who teaches in a classroom at A's day care asked me last week if I wanted a pair of pants that were too tight for her. I'm wearing them today and was slightly weirded out to know that although I consider myself a size 6, these size 10 pants fit pretty darn good. Now talking with my alter ego (Ms. Pre-C Section "Still-Thinks-She's-Twenty-and-Super-Fine") --I don't care what you say, I'm still going to Dunkin Donuts.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Quickly, Quickly
Oh my God, I can't believe that Dora the Explorer is over already, which means I need to find something else for A to do while I make hamburger patties and cook them. Maybe she can come into the kitchen with me and play with play doh. Or, maybe the alphabet puzzle I got from the School of Education library will keep her busy. Nope, here she is, in the kitchen...oooh, what do you know, she's heading straight for the play doh. GREAT!! Go with it, girl!
In any case, I just wanted to say that I turned in my review. I actually turned in the last piece of it today, because I realized I hadn't included my abyssmally (spelling?) low teaching evaluations from the graduate class I had last semester. It was a Freudian omission. That was, without a doubt, the worst teaching experience I've had since my FIRST semester ever teaching. I got feedback on the research statement I turned in with my review--from one of the "star" assistant professors who just made tenure at the associate level. He basically equated me to a human snowball in hell in terms of my likelihood of getting reappointed or making tenure. AND, if I don't make all of my overly ambitious writing goals for the semester, and even if I DO, I may not have a solid case for tenure, because my carefully defined research area is too narrow and doesn't have an impact on the larger fields to which I belong. F#$%!!!!! Oh well. I have more important hamburgers to fry right now. I have to try to hold my life together in the face of what is undoubtedly the most emotionally and mentally challenging set of issues I've ever had to face.
In any case, I just wanted to say that I turned in my review. I actually turned in the last piece of it today, because I realized I hadn't included my abyssmally (spelling?) low teaching evaluations from the graduate class I had last semester. It was a Freudian omission. That was, without a doubt, the worst teaching experience I've had since my FIRST semester ever teaching. I got feedback on the research statement I turned in with my review--from one of the "star" assistant professors who just made tenure at the associate level. He basically equated me to a human snowball in hell in terms of my likelihood of getting reappointed or making tenure. AND, if I don't make all of my overly ambitious writing goals for the semester, and even if I DO, I may not have a solid case for tenure, because my carefully defined research area is too narrow and doesn't have an impact on the larger fields to which I belong. F#$%!!!!! Oh well. I have more important hamburgers to fry right now. I have to try to hold my life together in the face of what is undoubtedly the most emotionally and mentally challenging set of issues I've ever had to face.
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