I arrived in Scary City on Tuesday late in the afternoon. Picked up the keys to my new place (which I do still like immensely) and went out to buy some household items, including a vacuum cleaner for the carpet (It is called a Roadster, which amuses me.) ...The semi-carpeted status of this place is the one thing about it that doesn't thrill me.
The movers arrived at 8 yesterday morning...this move has been so efficient on both ends, I can't quite get over it. They were jovial and bizarrely helpful - one took it upon himself to destroy the mini wasp nest that I had noticed was developing on my balcony. (The wasps have come back to look for their home and, I suspect, to build another...it is time for the killer aerosols, I'm afraid.) The best part was that I was able to get the movers to put together my enormous new bed frame and huge bookcase, and to assemble the futon frame I bought from Grumpy ABD Adjunct (which I hadn't a clue how to put together, since I so daft in such matters...) I paid them some cash, it took them an hour or so, and now it is done! I am so pleased about this, as I thought I was going to have to wait until Saturday to have it done...I had a tradesperson booked to come over then. This puts me significantly ahead.
The rest of the day was a bit frustrating. I was tired and overwhelmed by chaos. I got the kitchen unpacked, and went grocery shopping, but mostly felt like I was treading water. As well, it turned out that my phone service wasn't working - so neither, therefore, was the Internet. A call to the phone/Internet company last night, though, resulted in a service appointment today...and the technicians arrived at 8am, though they were scheduled to come anytime until 5pm. Not only did these - once again - insanely happy and helpful characters fix the phone service problem, but they also volunteered to set up my Internet and wireless for me. I can't tell you what a relief this is...I have to say that I was feeling really isolated, what with the shock of being in a new place and no way to communicate with people...Which was compounded by the fact that my doorbell isn't working, either! I think I was just over-tired, because that is a rather dramatic reaction - it's not like I'm out in the middle of nowhere. At any rate, it's all great now, and here I am, posting this on my very own wireless connection...I've never had wireless at home, so this makes me very happy.
My reactions to being here swing dramatically. Of course, at bottom, it's too early to tell anything - and I'm too ensconced here in my home and unpacking tasks to really get a sense of anything right now. But on the drive in, I was feeling very positive...it's so beautiful around here. I felt full of hope and promise. Yet when I walked downtown (which is very close to where I'm living) late in the afternoon yesterday, I felt dejected. And then I went into a second-hand bookstore that had Internet terminals, since I couldn't get online at home, and when I was leaving I asked the store's owner -a middle-aged guy - if there was anywhere nearby I could buy a phone. He thought for a moment, semi-suggested a couple of possibilities, and then said, very vehemently, "This is downtown Scary City - it sucks!" Well. Quite the vote of confidence in my new home there!
So we'll see how it plays out. Off I go to continue unpacking...if nothing else, at least I have this lovely place to nest in. My colleague - my one friend here, who hired me, and whom I stayed with when I came apartment-hunting - is coming over for a visit this afternoon. She lives very nearby. She'll come by with her dog - it will be nice to see them both, for I am really missing Mr. K still. Tonight, I will have a drink - god, I look forward to that gin and tonic. There has not been enough of that lately, I must say.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
Almost there
God, do the days ever run together when you drive for so long. I have a hard time figuring out which day it is, what time it is, where I am, where I was, and when I was there...
But what I do know is that the last leg of our journey is tomorrow...by late afternoon or early evening, I'll be in Scary City. (Still need to find new name for SC - I'm working on it!) I'll pick up the keys to my place, dump off the oodles of stuff in the car (clothes, food, random weirdnesses I forgot to pack) and go out to buy some household essentials. Wednesday, the movers arrive.
I have the oddest feeling. Of not being able to see or imagine a future. This is because I can't, beyond the next few days; I have nary a plan, for weeks to come. (Besides unpacking, and working, of course...) I haven't a clue what my future looks like - in the short term or the long term. Oh sure, I know vague generalities like "I'll start teaching on September 6" and "R is coming to visit on August 24." But I have no idea what life, real everyday life, will look like.
This isn't a bad thing. It just is. And I don't recall ever having felt anything like it before. In that sense, it's quite liberating, actually. I could reinvent myself. I won't, completely, of course. But knowing that I could is an interesting feeling, indeed.
But what I do know is that the last leg of our journey is tomorrow...by late afternoon or early evening, I'll be in Scary City. (Still need to find new name for SC - I'm working on it!) I'll pick up the keys to my place, dump off the oodles of stuff in the car (clothes, food, random weirdnesses I forgot to pack) and go out to buy some household essentials. Wednesday, the movers arrive.
I have the oddest feeling. Of not being able to see or imagine a future. This is because I can't, beyond the next few days; I have nary a plan, for weeks to come. (Besides unpacking, and working, of course...) I haven't a clue what my future looks like - in the short term or the long term. Oh sure, I know vague generalities like "I'll start teaching on September 6" and "R is coming to visit on August 24." But I have no idea what life, real everyday life, will look like.
This isn't a bad thing. It just is. And I don't recall ever having felt anything like it before. In that sense, it's quite liberating, actually. I could reinvent myself. I won't, completely, of course. But knowing that I could is an interesting feeling, indeed.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
More journey notes
- What a weird feeling comes over you when you take such a long driving trip. It's both tedious and perfectly alright.
- I am eating quite well, and that is a good thing. Even though I am usually a very healthy eater, I had visions of road trip food - Timbits, and iced caps, and fries from truck stops. Not so, thank goodness. Instead, plums and cherries and spinach salads. Which makes me feel much better than I would with the classic road diet.
- I plan to go for my first run, post-back injury, tomorrow morning. It's been two and a half weeks now. When we arrived at this place today, I noticed that my body was ITCHING to run...just dying for it. A walk "took the edge off," but I feel that my back, though still not fully healed, will probably be okay with a run now. It's the bending and lifting that continue to be a problem (which does not bode well for unpacking in a few days).
- Nostalgic Dad-fest continues.
- I am doing a good half of the driving on this trip, which is cementing my relatively recently acquired driving skills. Some of it has been quite challenging, and I am happy for the practice.
- The LUNATIC email I sent the other day still has not received a reply, which has me chewing my arm off in suspense and dread. And also gives me more time to ponder the consequences of my actions, of which there are some really unpleasant ones. (Sorry to be so cryptic about this piece of drama, which is so obviously good-juicy-gossipy...Indeed, it is...so good, I can't blog about it, I don't think...)
- More soon. Bye!
- I am eating quite well, and that is a good thing. Even though I am usually a very healthy eater, I had visions of road trip food - Timbits, and iced caps, and fries from truck stops. Not so, thank goodness. Instead, plums and cherries and spinach salads. Which makes me feel much better than I would with the classic road diet.
- I plan to go for my first run, post-back injury, tomorrow morning. It's been two and a half weeks now. When we arrived at this place today, I noticed that my body was ITCHING to run...just dying for it. A walk "took the edge off," but I feel that my back, though still not fully healed, will probably be okay with a run now. It's the bending and lifting that continue to be a problem (which does not bode well for unpacking in a few days).
- Nostalgic Dad-fest continues.
- I am doing a good half of the driving on this trip, which is cementing my relatively recently acquired driving skills. Some of it has been quite challenging, and I am happy for the practice.
- The LUNATIC email I sent the other day still has not received a reply, which has me chewing my arm off in suspense and dread. And also gives me more time to ponder the consequences of my actions, of which there are some really unpleasant ones. (Sorry to be so cryptic about this piece of drama, which is so obviously good-juicy-gossipy...Indeed, it is...so good, I can't blog about it, I don't think...)
- More soon. Bye!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Journey notes
I am here in a crappy hotel room, at the end of the second day of the journey. (Damn, my body is not used to being in a car for 10 hours a day, multiple days in a row.) In fact, we're in City Where my Incredibly, Life-Definingly Nostalgic Father Grew Up. We're staying here for two nights, in fact, to indulge his nostalgia.
I have only been here once before, when I was 7. What I remember of that trip is mainly impressionistic: a fancy swimming pool, with water slides and a tower; my father's wallet being stolen from said swimming establishment; a cool multicoloured short-sleeved shirt I had, which had "gold" thread woven into the fabric and felt like the coolest thing I'd ever owned; going roller skating; being crushed out on the daughter of my father's old school friend...All fleeting impressions.
But what defines Nostalgic Dad City, much more than any of those impressions, is a mood I remember. I remember very strongly feeling as if this city was haunted, inhabited by spirits. That feeling stayed with me for years - I would get an uneasy chill every time I even thought of this place. As an adult, I became aware of the source of those feelings. I was reading a Stephen King comic book on that trip (who the frack was letting me read such a thing at 7??), and that made me jumpy and nervous in general. (I remember not being able to fall asleep...) And during the vacation days in Nostalgia City, we were touring around and I was being regaled with various famous Native legends that define this place and the surrounding area. Legends involving spirits or sleeping souls of various kinds, all of them. Put that together with the Stephen King, and you have an easy recipe for a haunted city.
So I thought a lot about that feeling as we approached here today, and I wondered whether I would still feel as if this place were inhabited. I don't, I find. Not at all. In a sense, that almost makes me sad. It almost makes me nostalgic for an indefinable feeling, for an "irrational" belief. For the possibility of having such beliefs.
Other journey notes:
- I was wrong about turning to stone, not feeling any more emotion about leaving Home City. Leaving Mr. K nearly broke my heart, it did. I can't even really think about it without getting overwrought, so I have spent a fair amount of my time deliberately training my mind away from it. And indulging the dogs I've met on the journey, and taking pictures of them. A poor substitute. R tells me Mr. K's been very quiet since I left.
- Last night, I sent an INSANE email. It is as if upon leaving Home, I became a different person (a drug-addled one, perhaps??), able to recklessly stir up drama in my own life at the touch of a send button. Oh. my. god. All I can say is, it's a good thing I'm going far away. What was I thinking??
- Then spent most of my day, when I wasn't trying to avoid thinking about Mr. K, meditating on my newfound lack of caution and the email I sent, and anticipating a return email. Which has not materialized. Oh my god, the suspense! The drama! The lunacy! (Perhaps will find a way to blog about this - have to think about it...Just know - craziness.)
- William Hurt reading The Sun Also Rises: a fine audiobook. I recommend it.
- Off to sleep now, and to ponder my personal carelessness some more.
I have only been here once before, when I was 7. What I remember of that trip is mainly impressionistic: a fancy swimming pool, with water slides and a tower; my father's wallet being stolen from said swimming establishment; a cool multicoloured short-sleeved shirt I had, which had "gold" thread woven into the fabric and felt like the coolest thing I'd ever owned; going roller skating; being crushed out on the daughter of my father's old school friend...All fleeting impressions.
But what defines Nostalgic Dad City, much more than any of those impressions, is a mood I remember. I remember very strongly feeling as if this city was haunted, inhabited by spirits. That feeling stayed with me for years - I would get an uneasy chill every time I even thought of this place. As an adult, I became aware of the source of those feelings. I was reading a Stephen King comic book on that trip (who the frack was letting me read such a thing at 7??), and that made me jumpy and nervous in general. (I remember not being able to fall asleep...) And during the vacation days in Nostalgia City, we were touring around and I was being regaled with various famous Native legends that define this place and the surrounding area. Legends involving spirits or sleeping souls of various kinds, all of them. Put that together with the Stephen King, and you have an easy recipe for a haunted city.
So I thought a lot about that feeling as we approached here today, and I wondered whether I would still feel as if this place were inhabited. I don't, I find. Not at all. In a sense, that almost makes me sad. It almost makes me nostalgic for an indefinable feeling, for an "irrational" belief. For the possibility of having such beliefs.
Other journey notes:
- I was wrong about turning to stone, not feeling any more emotion about leaving Home City. Leaving Mr. K nearly broke my heart, it did. I can't even really think about it without getting overwrought, so I have spent a fair amount of my time deliberately training my mind away from it. And indulging the dogs I've met on the journey, and taking pictures of them. A poor substitute. R tells me Mr. K's been very quiet since I left.
- Last night, I sent an INSANE email. It is as if upon leaving Home, I became a different person (a drug-addled one, perhaps??), able to recklessly stir up drama in my own life at the touch of a send button. Oh. my. god. All I can say is, it's a good thing I'm going far away. What was I thinking??
- Then spent most of my day, when I wasn't trying to avoid thinking about Mr. K, meditating on my newfound lack of caution and the email I sent, and anticipating a return email. Which has not materialized. Oh my god, the suspense! The drama! The lunacy! (Perhaps will find a way to blog about this - have to think about it...Just know - craziness.)
- William Hurt reading The Sun Also Rises: a fine audiobook. I recommend it.
- Off to sleep now, and to ponder my personal carelessness some more.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Being rooted...part three
Had a little goodbye party last night...in A's stunning back garden. Many of the close people in my life are away right now. So it was small - fifteen or so people - and somehow sweet. Lovely. I said my goodbyes. You know, it was a kind of ritual.
So anyway, I will be gone by this time tomorrow morning. But I've kind of turned to stone about it. My extremely emotional goodbye with M a little while ago made me turn inward and protect myself, I think...No more of that, it seems I am saying to myself. And anyway, this has all been so drawn out - so goddamn many months of anticipation of this move - that I just need to be there, already!
That makes me return yet again to the question of rootedness in Home City. About how it can be a liability, and I have to be careful of that. What I mean is that I can't fetishize my rootedness here, so that it stops me from actually embracing my life in Scary City. I can imagine that happening. Psychgrad left a comment to my first post on rootedness, in which she said her longing for places and people she's left is usually about imagining them as they once were, bound in time. I can see that. And I need to be careful not to let those moments rule me, to the detriment of forging new relationships with people and place in Scary City.
*
My dad and I leave on our lengthy roadtrip tomorrow, lots of music and audiobooks in hand - In Cold Blood and The Sound and the Fury seem to be our listening goals, although apparently he's checked out from the library a dozen books to choose from. Don't know how much blogging I'll be able to do on the road. I'll try - and if not, see you on the other side!
So anyway, I will be gone by this time tomorrow morning. But I've kind of turned to stone about it. My extremely emotional goodbye with M a little while ago made me turn inward and protect myself, I think...No more of that, it seems I am saying to myself. And anyway, this has all been so drawn out - so goddamn many months of anticipation of this move - that I just need to be there, already!
That makes me return yet again to the question of rootedness in Home City. About how it can be a liability, and I have to be careful of that. What I mean is that I can't fetishize my rootedness here, so that it stops me from actually embracing my life in Scary City. I can imagine that happening. Psychgrad left a comment to my first post on rootedness, in which she said her longing for places and people she's left is usually about imagining them as they once were, bound in time. I can see that. And I need to be careful not to let those moments rule me, to the detriment of forging new relationships with people and place in Scary City.
*
My dad and I leave on our lengthy roadtrip tomorrow, lots of music and audiobooks in hand - In Cold Blood and The Sound and the Fury seem to be our listening goals, although apparently he's checked out from the library a dozen books to choose from. Don't know how much blogging I'll be able to do on the road. I'll try - and if not, see you on the other side!
Monday, July 16, 2007
Embarrassing moments, of yesteryear and today
Lil'rumpus has tagged me for a meme of her own devising - most embarrassing classroom moments...
While I know I have many embarrassing classroom moments, not many of them are really good stories. They are run-on embarrassments, more like. Like in my first year of full-time teaching, two years ago, when I was teaching a large lecture class for the first time -- and also deciding to incorporate technology into my teaching for the first time. Too many firsts, obviously. For every week, in the large lecture, I would lose my mind as I tried to figure out how to make the projector work. I would get semi-hysterical, and I can still hear the clicking of my shoes as I ran out of the class every week to find the IT guy with the short red hair, calling out frantically to my class, "If you see that guy walk by, flag him down..." This would last for a good fifteen, agonizing minutes every week. I lost a lot of sleep over this. After about 4 weeks or so, I'd sort of figured it out. But boy, it sure did not do wonders for my confidence as a brand new professor.
So I don't know if I have a good, single embarrassing classroom moment that can compare to lil'rumpus'. But I have a non-classroom embarrassing moment -- and it is from mere hours ago!
So I still had this rental car I'd taken away for the weekend. This is the first time I've been the sole driver for a weekend away, being such a new driver. Everything had gone swimmingly, including my navigation of rush-hour 400-series highways on Thursday afternoon. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. But things are getting a little frantic, as I'm leaving for Scary City on Wednesday, first thing in the morning. And there are lots of things to fit into these two days, including a haircut, a couple of visits with people, a low-key goodbye party at A's tonight, etc., etc.
I went out with the car early this morning to pick up snacks and drinks for this party tonight, to drop off at A's. Then A and I had a plan to go for a walk with our dogs - I wanted a one-on-one visit with her apart from the party tonight. So I suggested we drive down to this particular special park, and I drove us. On our way there, I was telling A how happy I was to now have this skill, this ability to drive, and how amazed I was about the fact that I have developed both comfort and competence lately.* We reminisced about how exactly one year ago, when A was catching a ride with us to the same destination I was visiting this weekend, I drove for about an hour, and nearly died of stress. Not so anymore, ha ha ha. Look at me, such a driver!
So we arrive at the park, I park, the dogs and A and I pour out of the car. And I lock the car. With the keys still in it. And the car running.
Ouch.
I called the rental company and roadside assistance was hastily dispatched - in fact, the guy arrived within fifteen minutes. He grinned at me as he handed over my key. A had regaled me with tales of different people, having borrowed her car, locking the keys inside with it running - three times in one year. She said to the roadside assistance guy, "Tell her how often this happens." He said he gets 6 or 7 of these calls in a day, some days. Once, there'd been a baby locked in the car.
But still. Ouch. I am now eating humble pie.
* As nice as it is to have this skill on a weekend away, or a day like today when I have to buy lots of things from the store, am I ever glad that I don't have to do it all the time. It would make me into an unhappy person. Driving in a city sucks!!
While I know I have many embarrassing classroom moments, not many of them are really good stories. They are run-on embarrassments, more like. Like in my first year of full-time teaching, two years ago, when I was teaching a large lecture class for the first time -- and also deciding to incorporate technology into my teaching for the first time. Too many firsts, obviously. For every week, in the large lecture, I would lose my mind as I tried to figure out how to make the projector work. I would get semi-hysterical, and I can still hear the clicking of my shoes as I ran out of the class every week to find the IT guy with the short red hair, calling out frantically to my class, "If you see that guy walk by, flag him down..." This would last for a good fifteen, agonizing minutes every week. I lost a lot of sleep over this. After about 4 weeks or so, I'd sort of figured it out. But boy, it sure did not do wonders for my confidence as a brand new professor.
So I don't know if I have a good, single embarrassing classroom moment that can compare to lil'rumpus'. But I have a non-classroom embarrassing moment -- and it is from mere hours ago!
So I still had this rental car I'd taken away for the weekend. This is the first time I've been the sole driver for a weekend away, being such a new driver. Everything had gone swimmingly, including my navigation of rush-hour 400-series highways on Thursday afternoon. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. But things are getting a little frantic, as I'm leaving for Scary City on Wednesday, first thing in the morning. And there are lots of things to fit into these two days, including a haircut, a couple of visits with people, a low-key goodbye party at A's tonight, etc., etc.
I went out with the car early this morning to pick up snacks and drinks for this party tonight, to drop off at A's. Then A and I had a plan to go for a walk with our dogs - I wanted a one-on-one visit with her apart from the party tonight. So I suggested we drive down to this particular special park, and I drove us. On our way there, I was telling A how happy I was to now have this skill, this ability to drive, and how amazed I was about the fact that I have developed both comfort and competence lately.* We reminisced about how exactly one year ago, when A was catching a ride with us to the same destination I was visiting this weekend, I drove for about an hour, and nearly died of stress. Not so anymore, ha ha ha. Look at me, such a driver!
So we arrive at the park, I park, the dogs and A and I pour out of the car. And I lock the car. With the keys still in it. And the car running.
Ouch.
I called the rental company and roadside assistance was hastily dispatched - in fact, the guy arrived within fifteen minutes. He grinned at me as he handed over my key. A had regaled me with tales of different people, having borrowed her car, locking the keys inside with it running - three times in one year. She said to the roadside assistance guy, "Tell her how often this happens." He said he gets 6 or 7 of these calls in a day, some days. Once, there'd been a baby locked in the car.
But still. Ouch. I am now eating humble pie.
* As nice as it is to have this skill on a weekend away, or a day like today when I have to buy lots of things from the store, am I ever glad that I don't have to do it all the time. It would make me into an unhappy person. Driving in a city sucks!!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Being rooted...part two
I am here for the weekend. In the university town where I taught in 2005-06. I have several family members here, as well as some friends from that year of working here. I chose the dates for this visit badly, because not one of the friends I have in this city is actually here this weekend. So it's been a quiet weekend for R and I, staying at my favourite aunt's house with Mr. K. It's been blustery, rainy, and cold. The picture above shows me taking advantage, on Friday afternoon, of a wee patch of sunlight before the storm clouds moved in...I had a glorious swim off the rocks in the warm, shallow water. (This house is jaw-droppingly situated...)
Being here reminds me that being rooted, as I wrote about the other day, is many-layered. It's not just about Home City, it's about Home Region, too. The wilder landscapes that I've visited all my life - the ones that surround and to a certain extent feed off the city. I know landscape differently from the way I know cityscape. But I take a certain comfort in being able to map a region, I realize.
That's why I wanted to come here just before I leave for Scary City...I wanted to feel this landscape again, so that I could hold it with me over there. There is not the same kind of grief about leaving the region that I feel at leaving the city - and I feel excited about the region surrounding Scary City - but it's very nourishing to be here.
*
A back update: Things are finally looking up on that front. I drove the several hours to get here on Thursday, and that sure as hell didn't help matters. When my aunt saw me hobble out of the car and immediately lie on the floor, there was talk of "shooting me through the CT scanner" (her husband is a doctor, a radiologist). But she gave me a bottle of Celebrex. Oh my goodness, I heart Celebrex. It appears to have worked a small miracle, and now I'm very much on the mend. Drugs Are Good.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Rockin' girl blogger...me?
I just found out that the amazing MaggieMay named me on her list of 5 rockin' girl bloggers! What an honour! I was tickled beyond belief to be nominated by the rockingest girl blogger I know, whom I always visit first in bloglines...especially because I don't feel like I rock, really (as Maggie perceptively notes about me).
As far as I can tell, the deal is that I have to now name 5 rockin' girl bloggers of my own. Which is, well, fab, because I love the chance to tell some of my lady blogfriends how much I love them! They can't include ones from Maggie's list (which is hard, because there are some serious favourites of mine on that list...(cough)Sfragett(cough)...)But as I can't keep track of all the lists out there, and who's on them, I'm considering everyone else fair game. And I'm thinking about people's blogs, here, not the personalities of people I've met in real life...who are all awesome gals.
And you gotta know that picking only 5 bloggers is a real challenge...I seriously love, like, 30 blogs...
1. Medieval Woman. This girl is a total rocker. It's in her positive energy and sense of humour! But she's not one of those people who uses levity and optimism as shields...her blog voice is a great balance of serious questions and funny delivery. She's the kind of person you'd like to stay at the bar with into the wee hours for that reason...
2. Flavia. Flavia's wit and intelligence slay me. And she always writes these things, including in mine and others' comments, that are just so right on. That leave me thinking, "Well, that's exactly what I was thinking, but Flavia has captured it with so much more subtlety and linguistic precision, not to mention sarcastic hilarity, than I ever could...." Flavia, I bow before you.
3. Squadratomagico. My friend, I especially love your reflections on your extra-academic life! I love that you are a circus performer, and that you write about it. That you call your cat TrannieDiva. That you spend half your summer in India...Your blog is a great beacon to those of us who could become too caught up in our work...and so You Rock.
4. What Now? This woman's embracing of her work and her life is really inspiring. I love reading about her as a teacher, especially in her current incarnation teaching high school...she appears to rock even harder in the classroom.
5. GrumpyABDadjunct. I'm all about the no-nonsense, practical, and sometimes really refreshingly angry voice on her blog. Though she doesn't get a chance to blog much, GAA rocks for her fabulous ethical sense and for her sense of her rights as an adjunct.
Those are my top five rockin' academic girls. While the incestuous academic blogland is where I spend most of my time, there are one or two other haunts I frequent. So I'm bending the rules to include one, because she is surely THE rockin' girl blogger of all time. And she's technically an academic blogger, anyway:
Gone Feral's Feral Mom. Damn, that's some funny shit. Funny enough that I just remain a silent admirer...I can't touch the kind of humour that commenting there would require. She is awesome.
*
In other news, I am away for the weekend. More on that soon.
As far as I can tell, the deal is that I have to now name 5 rockin' girl bloggers of my own. Which is, well, fab, because I love the chance to tell some of my lady blogfriends how much I love them! They can't include ones from Maggie's list (which is hard, because there are some serious favourites of mine on that list...(cough)Sfragett(cough)...)But as I can't keep track of all the lists out there, and who's on them, I'm considering everyone else fair game. And I'm thinking about people's blogs, here, not the personalities of people I've met in real life...who are all awesome gals.
And you gotta know that picking only 5 bloggers is a real challenge...I seriously love, like, 30 blogs...
1. Medieval Woman. This girl is a total rocker. It's in her positive energy and sense of humour! But she's not one of those people who uses levity and optimism as shields...her blog voice is a great balance of serious questions and funny delivery. She's the kind of person you'd like to stay at the bar with into the wee hours for that reason...
2. Flavia. Flavia's wit and intelligence slay me. And she always writes these things, including in mine and others' comments, that are just so right on. That leave me thinking, "Well, that's exactly what I was thinking, but Flavia has captured it with so much more subtlety and linguistic precision, not to mention sarcastic hilarity, than I ever could...." Flavia, I bow before you.
3. Squadratomagico. My friend, I especially love your reflections on your extra-academic life! I love that you are a circus performer, and that you write about it. That you call your cat TrannieDiva. That you spend half your summer in India...Your blog is a great beacon to those of us who could become too caught up in our work...and so You Rock.
4. What Now? This woman's embracing of her work and her life is really inspiring. I love reading about her as a teacher, especially in her current incarnation teaching high school...she appears to rock even harder in the classroom.
5. GrumpyABDadjunct. I'm all about the no-nonsense, practical, and sometimes really refreshingly angry voice on her blog. Though she doesn't get a chance to blog much, GAA rocks for her fabulous ethical sense and for her sense of her rights as an adjunct.
Those are my top five rockin' academic girls. While the incestuous academic blogland is where I spend most of my time, there are one or two other haunts I frequent. So I'm bending the rules to include one, because she is surely THE rockin' girl blogger of all time. And she's technically an academic blogger, anyway:
Gone Feral's Feral Mom. Damn, that's some funny shit. Funny enough that I just remain a silent admirer...I can't touch the kind of humour that commenting there would require. She is awesome.
*
In other news, I am away for the weekend. More on that soon.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Being rooted...Part One
Recently I went to a party, an annual party, of people from my Activity days. I went mainly to see and say goodbye to the host of the party, M, who is a good friend. She was leaving on a trip a few days later, so this would be my last chance to see her before moving away. My friendship with M always delights me...she's in her mid 50s, and the differences in our lives are so profound. And yet we have this wonderful connection...we always have fun.
I could only be at the party for about an hour and a half, as R had scheduled an impromptu dinner with other friends for that night. As M and I stood and talked in the kitchen, I became a little teary. So did she. I could tell she was in an unusual state. She is sweet and polite, but highly composed and no-nonsense -never one to wear her more complicated emotions on her sleeve. It's very unusual for her to cry, in public at least.
When I had to go, M took me to the foyer to see me off. And broke down, sobbing and gasping. Which set me off, too. She made a little speech through her tears about "wishing me all the best" and "have a good life," which was disconcerting, because in my mind, we'll see each other again! I'll be here, for instance, at winter break! And I left the house, sobbing. It was a jarring and unexpected experience, seeing that kind of emotional display from M. I think I was also shocked at the depth of my own sadness at saying goodbye to her.
Anyway. I walked, crying. Hurried, because I had to meet R and these others for dinner. And I realized as I walked that I was on a kind of auto-pilot...I was heading to the dinner meeting spot, which is in a strange location I don't go to that often, from M's out-of-the-way, strangely situated house, without even thinking for one moment about where I was going or how to get there.
The thing is, this complete ease of movement is because this city is in my blood. I've lived in it for twenty-five of thirty-two years, and I know it intimately. And I love it. I really love it, everything that is mundane and unassuming about it. Even writing about it right now makes me emotional.
This conjunction of moments - the emotional goodbye with M, and the sudden consciousness of my auto-pilot moving through the city - made me think about my current move in a new way. Though my upset about the move has been couched in railing against Scary City, what I am really doing is grieving the leaving of this place. So I thought as I walked and tried to compose myself about how I would be perfectly content to live here, in this city where I was born - where one of my parents, and hell, one of my grandparents were born - forever.
That, for me, is the disconnect in doing a PhD and becoming an academic. I don't want to leave my home. Of course, I didn't think about this as I did a PhD - I didn't plan a thing - and even when the probability of leaving for good loomed on the horizon, I couldn't really feel what it would mean to me. But over the last number of months, while it's been imminent, what I've been doing is grieving the loss of place.
And you know what? That day, as I walked, I thought that I would give up an academic career in order to live here, in Home City. I am not doing that now, obviously, but I don't know what will happen down the road, how much I will miss this place. I am rooted enough here that roots might trump all else. It feels rather antiquated and embarrassing to admit that, as an academic, but there you have it.
I could only be at the party for about an hour and a half, as R had scheduled an impromptu dinner with other friends for that night. As M and I stood and talked in the kitchen, I became a little teary. So did she. I could tell she was in an unusual state. She is sweet and polite, but highly composed and no-nonsense -never one to wear her more complicated emotions on her sleeve. It's very unusual for her to cry, in public at least.
When I had to go, M took me to the foyer to see me off. And broke down, sobbing and gasping. Which set me off, too. She made a little speech through her tears about "wishing me all the best" and "have a good life," which was disconcerting, because in my mind, we'll see each other again! I'll be here, for instance, at winter break! And I left the house, sobbing. It was a jarring and unexpected experience, seeing that kind of emotional display from M. I think I was also shocked at the depth of my own sadness at saying goodbye to her.
Anyway. I walked, crying. Hurried, because I had to meet R and these others for dinner. And I realized as I walked that I was on a kind of auto-pilot...I was heading to the dinner meeting spot, which is in a strange location I don't go to that often, from M's out-of-the-way, strangely situated house, without even thinking for one moment about where I was going or how to get there.
The thing is, this complete ease of movement is because this city is in my blood. I've lived in it for twenty-five of thirty-two years, and I know it intimately. And I love it. I really love it, everything that is mundane and unassuming about it. Even writing about it right now makes me emotional.
This conjunction of moments - the emotional goodbye with M, and the sudden consciousness of my auto-pilot moving through the city - made me think about my current move in a new way. Though my upset about the move has been couched in railing against Scary City, what I am really doing is grieving the leaving of this place. So I thought as I walked and tried to compose myself about how I would be perfectly content to live here, in this city where I was born - where one of my parents, and hell, one of my grandparents were born - forever.
That, for me, is the disconnect in doing a PhD and becoming an academic. I don't want to leave my home. Of course, I didn't think about this as I did a PhD - I didn't plan a thing - and even when the probability of leaving for good loomed on the horizon, I couldn't really feel what it would mean to me. But over the last number of months, while it's been imminent, what I've been doing is grieving the loss of place.
And you know what? That day, as I walked, I thought that I would give up an academic career in order to live here, in Home City. I am not doing that now, obviously, but I don't know what will happen down the road, how much I will miss this place. I am rooted enough here that roots might trump all else. It feels rather antiquated and embarrassing to admit that, as an academic, but there you have it.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
This post won't let me title it. It is supposed to be called "Don't Mind me: Blogging a Lost Thing"
Oh, please show yourselves, expensive prescription sunglasses! I have had enough of losing things and feeling discombobulated. And while I suspect you fell out of my bag in a taxi last week, the taxi company sure doesn't have you in its lost and found...so a small part of me still holds out hope that you are somewhere here...right under my nose. Please?
Oh, please show yourselves, expensive prescription sunglasses! I have had enough of losing things and feeling discombobulated. And while I suspect you fell out of my bag in a taxi last week, the taxi company sure doesn't have you in its lost and found...so a small part of me still holds out hope that you are somewhere here...right under my nose. Please?
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