I'm Such a Hippie

After watching the Lost series finale, one of the things that struck me (don't worry - no spoilers here), was that there were almost exclusively couples in the final scene. As I was in a pretty emotional state at that point, I was moved to think, "Man, love really is what it's all about."

This is nothing new for me, because I've been really like that for most of my life. I've always been in touch with my feelings of love and appreciation. I've always tried to be verbal with the people who have been good to me, and even at 3 am feedings, I've tried to be "in the moment" with my bundle of joy. I have this great marriage, and several close friends that I've had for years. I got this love thing down.

This epiphany from TV, however, made me think about the places in my life that weren't full of love: the grudges I've kept and the people I've written off. I starting feeling how unimportant those things were, and, while I'm not going to throw myself at people who find it a pleasure to manipulate and hurt, I've found that it's easier to just "get over" things that don't have a simple way out.

My husband and I were talking about it on the way home from the Lost Finale Party (heheh, sort of a party. there were two couples, one toddler, and some wheezy dogs that kept eating my chips.), and we realized that that's the one goal we can really say we have for our children: to find an actual, real love that will last. I hate to sound all Snow White-y, hoping that someday their princes (and princesses) will come, but what higher goal can there be? Sure, my kids will be brilliant and successful (right?), but how much more important is it for them to find someone who makes them happy than find a job that makes them rich! When I think about my other "kids" - my students - I honestly hope the same for them. I see some of them out there trying to figure out what to do and focusing so much on where and how much they want out of life, but what makes me the most pleased is when one of them finds someone that really makes him or her feel like no one else in the world could compare.

So if you're looking around and trying to figure out how to make your mark on the world, don't forget to keep an eye out for someone who you could make your world.

And peace, man.

Too Old for This...

Man, I hate the days when I don't feel like an adult. I've been in a slump for a month or so and I didn't realize it till today. I feel like I did when I was a teenager: this overhanging sense of being a screw-up. Isn't that horrible? I'm in my 30's, in a great marriage, have a great kid. I'm a homeowner (and even landlady), pretty good at my job (except getting grades in on time - but who doesn't have issues with deadlines?), and, overall, happy with things. So why do I feel like any minute now I'll be discovered as a fraud?

Some of the stuff that's been bumming me out has been legit, but most of it has little to do with me feeling foolish or like an outsider.

I was a little bummed a couple of months ago when a disagreement with a friend led to me dropping one of the projects I had been working with her on. While I ended up being relieved to have more time with my family and things that should have been taking priority, things were said and done that just plain hurt my feelings (am I not bigger than that?), and I was bummed to leave the other people involved. I was a bit bummed when I had to put on a brave, bigger-than-this face for the dropped project's final showing. I was a bit bummed when I realized that I couldn't bring myself to apologize for something I don't believe was wrong just to make peace with a friend. Actually, I was more bummed to think that my friend would probably never really believe that she wasn't right in what she did. I'm bummed to think there's really no resolution here. I was a bit bummed when my husband didn't get one of the promotions we were hoping for. I was a little bummed last month when I had what looked like a really early miscarriage. I was a bit more bummed when the doctor determined that they weren't sure if it was an incomplete miscarriage or an ectopic pregnancy and I had to get these shots to make it go away. I was pretty bummed, too, when they said I'd have to wait another three months before trying again for another baby.

I've just been in a funk here.

What's weird is that it's just now hitting me. I keep thinking it'll be okay when all this is over, but I'm not very sure what "all this" is. Maybe it's because it's overcast and muggy. Maybe I'll feel much better on Sunday. I'm not really a hopeless type of person, but I'm definitely squinting really hard to find the light at the end of the tunnel today.

The Lone Star State

I'm not always so Texas-devoted, but I remember having a conversation once with my husband about the places we could imagine ourselves actually living, and we determined that this is the only state we could imagine being from. I was a bit taken aback because he's just first-generation Texan. His parents were born in Jersey and Arizona, I think, and, since my family is from Kansas and Pennsylvania, I always considered us more strongly connected to the more broad idea of American or human than so much Texan. I realize, though, that he's right: I would much rather be from here than an outsider. As a kid visiting relatives in Pittsburgh, I was surprised that their car commercials in Pennsylvania didn't have state-specific references ("built Pennsylvania TOUGH").

I am reminded of my state pride by Ambo's post about Texas' independence day. So, here's to Texas and the wonderful things and people that come from Texas: Lyle Lovett, NASA, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Six Flags, and the guy that plays Shawn on Psych.

Blogging about Blogging

I have things to write about and will do soon.
They are:
Michael Buble'
Horses in Houston
A Good Marriage
More Guilty Pleasures

and another one that I wrote down on the back of a receipt in my car while I was driving into the city for an appointment. I have time to think about them, but, apparently, not to write about them.

More later.

Book Binge

I had forgetten how long it'd been since I read a book for fun. Even over the Christmas break, I don't remember managing to read anything (not counting Little Gorilla, Goodnight Moon and Oliver Finds His Way - which I read repeatedly, but not for fun). I'd skimmed through Pride & Prejudice in December but only because I was teaching it in class. (Oh, now I remember, the last book was Garden Spells in October. Months ago. Sad.)

Until the weekend before last, I was on an involuntary book fast. Then, I stumbled across a new Stephanie Barron novel while browsing on Amazon. Usually, choosing a book is difficult for me, because I'm distracted by all the interesting-looking covers of books which, upon further inspection, don't actually look interesting at all (curse you, slick and trendy cover designers!). I figured I could trust Stephanie Barron, though, as she had written a series of murder mystery novels with Jane Austen as the heroine (shout out to whichever of the Bales twins - Delaina, right? - was working at the library that summer that I was looking for something interesting - she pointed me to the series which I heartily devoured. And maybe it was Bridget). So the Stephanie Barron book - A Flaw in the Blood - was delivered on or around January 9, but things kept getting in the way of my reading; things like working for a living and people who want me to help them wipe their noses.

After one of those miraculous days when my husband and I were actually off together and able to co-wrangle the Boy, I was mere pages from the end of the book. We stopped into Target to waste time before dinner with friends and I wandered into the book section there and picked up two more. One of them looked too fun to not get (Jane Bites Back - where Jane Austen is, in fact, still alive as a vampire in modern America) and the other was the third in a series that I've read (A Lion Among Men by Gregory Maguire, from the Wicked series). I put back the Lion book because, while I love the musical, the Wicked books are rather dark and allegorical for my usual pleasure-reading tastes, and I've just not been in the mood for the depth. I finished Barron that Monday night and picked up the Jane book minutes later.

Over the course of the work week, I managed to get through the Austen vampire book, but, as I had a horrible cold and the book wasn't all that compelling, it took me till Friday. Once I've downed two books in a row, though, it's hard not to keep going.

Saturday, since the in-laws came and borrowed my boy for the day, I ran off to the mall and couldn't keep myself out of Barnes & Noble despite my plan to head straight to the movies for some cheesy-romance-with-a-pretty-backdrop time (Leap Year - guy with an accent? check. predictable storyline? check. beautiful foreign landscape? check. thoroughly enjoyed it anyway? check.) In my haste, I stayed to the center aisle and found, in the 50% off stack, Audrey Niffenegger's new book, Her Fearful Symmetry. The Time Traveler's Wife was haunting and beautiful and so not science-fiction feeling, despite the whole time-travel premise, so I was pleased to find this new one, especially at a bargain. I delved into that as soon as the Boy went to bed and finished it two nights later (tonight - minutes ago).

I feel like someone who's just polished off a particularly sublime meal: sitting back and basking in the memory of its goodness without feeling stuffed. In fact, I did read instead of eating dinner. Perhaps this could be my new diet: mix in some cheesy themed novels with a few substantial ones and - voila! - I'm losing 10 pounds!