A Curious Find

Found this at a random thrift store during my break while working in Sparklecity. I know it doesn't look like much to most people, but I was drawn to it. In a packed, old, dusty warehouse it was the only item that didn't have a price tag. I held up the turquoise caddy to the lady at the counter. She was sitting at an old second-hand keyboard staring at a beginner piano book ... I can only assume trying to figure out how to play. Over her head the shelves of random forsaken items now deemed treasures sagged as they were joined by a mammoth TV blasting an afternoon soap.
With a deep accent showcasing a long southern heritage she growled, "You interested in that?"
I nodded. She gave me a careful once over and said, "Bring it here and lemme give it a look."
I took it to the counter as nonchalantly as possible. It's best to show those who wheel-and-deal that you have only a passing interest in any item or they'll drive the price up. (Learned that from my older sister -- who is a queen at yard saling.)

She carefully ruffled thru every little bit -- I have no idea what she thought could be hiding in this stash of papers. I could smell her cigarette breath as she counted out loud. I tried to look interested in the random jewelry on the counter.
She rasped out, "I guess I'll take $15 for it."

So I shrugged my shoulders and walked away looking at some mid-century planters -- a personal favorite. I was torn. That was a high price I thought, but it was relative. I was very curious what was written in those papers. So I asked her some random questions about the planters and showed great interest in a pastel one ... I really did like it and didn't have one of the same color. It's a funny dance of knowing when to barter and when to just let it go. I asked her what some other items were that I couldn't care less about and praised her taste in choosing some unique circus pieces. She just glowed and started to tell me about her business. I wasn't disinterested; I find people fascinating. But I knew I was just making her like me and want to give me a deal. So I put the planter on the counter and said I'd take it. I didn't even bother to haggle the price. She rang it up and bagged it. I asked if she'd throw in the papers for $10. Somehow, some family's personal records seemed worth two drinks at Starbucks. (How sad.)

the old stationary box housing the letters

She was happy to oblige. She said it belonged to a local spinster she knew who grew up in Sparklecity. So I left with a curious treasure.
The contents are 2 pictures, a box of letters, handful of old stamps torn off of envelopes, one picture hanging wire, an old outlet plug and a couple of items torn from newspapers.

At home I laid out all the items and tried to figure out how they went together. It really is a mystery puzzle. I finally figured out that the letters spanned over 50 years and were to different members of the family. There was only one love letter. The subject of most letters alluded to family events that seemed more sad than good. The newspaper clips are by far the most puzzling.

Stack of letters in the box

Anyway, in this and subsequent posts, I just want to share with you what I learned about the Davis family of Briarwood Road from the bits of ephemera left in this box and since abandoned by the family to this curious stranger.

It would seem that the "spinster" member of the family who kept all the letters was named Mary Davis. Her mother was Mattie (don't know if it was a nickname or not). Mattie received some very interesting letters from her sister ... especially during the Depression. Times were hard!

However, I'd like to share one letter that Mary got from what appears to be a pen pal from England. We have no idea how they met or how long they corresponded. For some reason, Mary only kept one letter they exchanged.
(For the record, someone nicknamed "Doc" was either a relative or close friend of the Davis family and also served during WWII. He's mentioned not only in this letter but in other letters from the same time period.)

I love that I opened these letters and they were left on the last page as if they had just been read by the owner. But I digress. Here's a letter -- exactly how it was written -- from P. Bark of Cheltenham, England, to one Miss M. Davis, of Spartanburg, S.C. Mailed on August 14, 1947.

Dear Mary,
Many thanks for your letter received a short while ago. I do enjoy hearing from you over there. No doubt you understand the feeling of loneliness now you have lost your friend -- after friends are married I find they change somehow -- of course I have plenty of acquaintances but am rather fussy regarding my real friends. Of course when Doc was over here am afraid I gave very little of my spare time to my girl-friends -- each evening when Doc was free from duty we always went out some place especially at the week-ends.

First page of letter from Pat

I was certainly very thrilled to hear about another package on the way for me -- you have no idea how much I appreciate your kind thoughts -- of course the hose will be handled with great care and worn on high days and holidays. I do love good hose but over here everything like gold to purchase -- you have probably read that we are expecting further cuts in our rations! Am afraid I cannot remember the last time we had peaches, we rarely ever see them.
Have you had your vacation yet? Do tell me if you went to the sea or up on the mountains. Just recently I have seen several Americans over here, no doubt they are on furlough visiting friends they made when stationed over here.
Last Saturday I spent rather a pleasant day -- all the afternoon I played tennis -- do you play this game very much? And then after tea, one of the girls from the office and myself cycled 5 miles outside Cheltinham to a small village Fête. These surrounding villages are so small that the church funds are very low, so in order to raise money -- each year during the summer they have fête. It was held in a large field where stalls were erected and various competitions were carried on including sports of various descriptions. There was a scuttle competition the prize being a real pig -- I tried hard but could not win some. There were three lovely horses there so my friend (just a casual one) had real fun trying to ride! Have you an interest in horse-riding? We both felt exceedingly stiff after our game of our cycle ride and horse-ride, but we really enjoyed everything. I believe the total sum realize was L300 which to such a small place meant very very much. The minister is going to have a new hall built where meetings can be held during the week. I do not know if you can picture these quaint village churches still with oil lamps and only chairs, the congregation only numbers about 10 at an evening service.
My sister's baby Patricia Ann is getting really lively. She has large blue eyes (not a bit like the Back family we have all the same hazel eyes.) My sister has just given her a bath and I have taken her up to her cot, she does not take long to go to sleep and is a very happy and contented baby. Before Patricia came I was not a lover of children, but since she has been here I have changed a few of my ideas as she is so lovable.

return address from England w/post mark

Do you ever go swimming? We have many open-air baths -- but since the awful outbreak of Infantile Paralysis spreading over this country at various places most of these baths are closing down. Many children from our secondary schools were disappointed as holidays had been planned for them to visit the homes of various children in Holland and Belgium, then the children from Holland were praying to return visit to England. Unfortunately all this was cancelled at short notice.
Have you seen any good shows recently? Last week I saw the film "They Were Sisters" featuring James Mason and Phyllis Calvert. I quite enjoyed it as the story was quite unusual. A few weeks ago I went to a dance at our Town Hall, but did not enjoy it very much, the music was terrible loud and brassy, perhaps that helped to spoil my evening.
How do you spend your time in the evenings? Have you found yourself a new boy-friend yet?
Now I have changed my office I find my work much more interesting -- am trying to catch up on my short-hand but have decided to go to evening classes during the winter months. Since I left school am afraid my shorthand has suffered from not enough practise.
Well Mary I am afraid I cannot stop for more at the moment. Please give my regards to Mr. & Mrs. Davis. I trust they are both very well. Do write again soon.
Must Close
Kindest Thoughts
Pat


Some interesting notes on the letter:
1. What is a fête? a festive outdoor party especially common in England
2. What is this game of scuttle? Who knows? But I did find this definition: British English: scuttle -- When people or small animals scuttle somewhere, they run there with short quick steps. (maybe it's a quick foot race?)
3. How bad was rationing in England during WWII? doesn't sound like a piece of cake!
4. What is Infantile Paralysis? Polio -- see a brief history here
5. Tell me about Cheltenham! OK, I think I'd like to visit here too!
6. Want to read some other fascinating exchange letters during WWII? My personal favorite -- "84 Charing Cross Rd"
7. What about this movie: "They Were Sisters" (a melodrama dealing with spousal abuse)

So, there is much more to this collection of memories of one family. I'm enjoying exploring this slice of Southern life.

More to come ...

Adjunctory Madness

So, if I'm to believe all I'm reading lately about adjunct teachers ... I'm in big trouble. We adjunct professors/lecturers/instructors are at the bottom of the bottom in the academia world. Yikes? According to Ivan Evans, professor of sociology at UC San Diego,

" ... faculty are far more complicit in the sacking of public higher education than we are prepared to acknowledge. One of the best indexes of this is the arrogance that ladder-rank faculty display towards adjunct/part-time faculty/"lecturers" in our own departments. As with the caste system, there are so many categories for them, all of which serve the purpose of the Brahmins in the Academic Senate. 
We -- and here am I tempted to specifically include you [on the list] alongside myself in this condemnation, but won't because there's always a small chance that some of you/us are exempt from these generalizations--in fact appear to take some pride in treating adjuncts as an inferior caste. It is the norm for adjuncts to be excluded from faculty meetings and to be deprived of any say in the management of departments. Instead of resisting the "adjunctification" of the professoriat by incorporating these colleagues -- because they are colleagues -- into the university and our respective departments, we tolerate them as useful proof of our Brahmin status. They are our untouchables.
And we treat them accordingly."
It's true that we don't receive the same pay and definitely no benefits. We live on a semester to semester basis -- never completely sure if we'll get classes and how many.

What's even more shocking ... upon reading up more on this topic ... is that adjuncts account for 50-75% of the academic workforce.

 I can only tell you what I've experienced in this realm. I taught full-time for 12 years with benefits. I was exhausted by all the extra duties and conflicts between instructors. But I did have those benefits. I decided to take a break and try something else. I had great difficulty in finding another job. I was told I was "too" qualified. I didn't have any "managerial" experiences -- don't get me started. My work experience (although faithfully working at one job since graduation) was not in the business world. So, apparently, I had nothing to offer the workforce. The only places I could get work were adjunct teaching positions, so I snapped those up to pay my bills. Wouldn't you?

To be perfectly honest, I see the upside to adjunct teaching. Yes, I don't get benefits, but I also don't have to go to numerous meetings about nothing. I don't have to spend countless hours in my office for student advising. I'm never asked to attend department functions and have to go to make sure my department head sees me and I get my schmooze time in. I don't have to fight and claw my way up the ladder to tenure. I don't have to spend countless amounts of my time politicking and obsessing about getting published. All I have to do is teach. Do I care that another adjunct teacher is politicking with my department head in order to get the next full-time opening? Nope. Honestly, I like that all I have to worry about it just teaching. Because that's what I like to do. I don't need to be famous and published and the department darling. I just want my students to be successful. But, this does bring a price. Check out this example of an adjunct's schedule: (taken from here)

One adjunct on the Steering Committee teaches 6-9 courses per quarter at a bewildering array of campuses in the Bay Area. I do not have a good enough grasp of the geography of that region to understand exactly why:

• she hits the road at 5:30 am to make her first class;
• teachers non-stop from 8am - 5 pm (including travel time as she whizzes at breakneck speed from one campus to another)
• takes her first and only break from 5-7pm
• teaches again from 7-9pm
• holds her office hour from 9-10pm (yes, that's PM)
• checks in at a $49 /night motel on Highway 101 (in a town called Gilroy); and
• repeats this schedule three times per week.

On a "good day", she remains in the Berkeley area where she resides and teaches at 2-3 colleges. No contract, no benefits, no representation in the Senate. At the beginning of the Winter quarter, she was informed that one course had just been re-assigned to another adjunct "who needs the course more." Just like that, income that she is so vitally dependent on, and in fact cannot survive without, was taken away--by email, without prior notification and for a reason that is as inscrutable as it is uncontestable.

Yeah, I was exhausted just reading that scenario. I also teach at two different schools. It's enough for me to survive, but not enough for the summer. I have two other part time jobs that I use to fill in the gaps. The dropping of a class at the last minute is something I also experienced this semester. I had been consistently teaching four classes at one university and then inexplicably the week before school started I was only scheduled for three. I wasn't told it happened, it was just given to someone else. (I found out later that a full-time instructor wanted my full section. Students sign up for class the semester before knowing who their instructor will be.)

Now, imagine being down $600 a month with no notice to prepare. That definitely is a big sting. I'm not the kind of person who freaks out, but I definitely like a little notice. And for the first time, I complained to my department.

(Don't think about the fact that the full-time professor makes 60k or more a year, while you make 2k a class -- sometimes teaching the exact same thing.)

The story of the adjunct from Duquesne University, Margaret Mary Vojtko, who taught for 25 years and died tragically and penniless is all over the Internet. It is sad to think that a college professor was living below poverty level with her house falling down around her. Do I think that could be me someday? I certainly hope not. I don't think I'd be that dedicated to any school.

The more I looked into the world of adjuncts, the more depressing it seems. There are numerous articles and resources telling you how dismal my world is. Except, I don't feel that dismal. I know I don't make comparable money. I don't have benefits. I get it. But, today I have work and I need to prepare for tomorrow. And I'm OK with that.

It's my future and my life. I have zero desire to be dependent upon politicking with professors to secure it.

re-birth, sort of

So, this person that I highly respect told me that you have to have a blog and get hooked into all the social networking. I'm pretty much accustomed to Facebook, but I've found it to be a two-edged sword. You know, it's sooo cool to troll around and find out what everyone is doing -- from elementary friends to current co-workers -- and then one day you realize: heck, that person's life is so much more interesting and fulfilling than mine. Did the kids I used to babysit really just buy their own home and are starting on their third child, while having just come back from a trip around Europe?

​
​It goes without saying that it's super easy to become either self-satisfied or self-loathing when comparing yourself to all of your "friends" on Facebook. "At least I don't have THAT kind of trouble. Or, glad I still have my hair. Or even, how could he put something so ignorant as his status?" If I feel good about myself for even a moment, all I have to do is scroll down the home page and see the 21-year-old flashing her gorgeous engagement ring in the perfectly-posed, natural-looking, randomly-casual pics on the rusted out railroad tracks downtown -- you know what I mean -- or, look at all those 20-30 somethings living in Dubai like royalty while teaching the arts or babysitting the rich and famous' off-spring.
But, that begs a bigger question:  why do I feel like my life is churning in place while everyone else is moving forward?
Ummm ... too many answers to that question, I'm sure. Instead, I think I'm just going to start enjoying what IS in my life and be a bit more fastidious about looking around and appreciating my current surroundings. I've always been taught -- or just osmossed-in and imagined I was taught -- the idea that knowledge changes everything.   But it's more than that. Knowledge is where we begin, but it changes us by how we use it. I realize this isn't deep, I don't claim to have anything deeper than the shallow end of the pool going on at any given moment. But, it's truth. And, believe it or not, truth is freeing. So, here we go: seekers of knowledge (no matter how small or insignificant), admirers of beauty (no matter how flawed the eye beholding it) and lovers of randomness -- it's ON!​
​
P.S. I'm always impressed by the people on Facebook who purposely post "ugly" pics of themselves. Confident or oblivious souls, they are -- or maybe more grounded than the rest of us.​

On Cuties and Flying

Today was an epiphany. You know what mean. An "Our Town" moment. Personally, I'm on the brink of a whole new chapter in my life. I know that--deep down inside. I'm sitting in the airport in Dallas people-watching during my layover. I suddenly decide to eat one my Cuties. (thanks Dad for those) I pull it out, peel it and scarf it down. Quick.  And a little while later I realize there's a sweet taste in my mouth and I remember the Cutie. It's finally time to board and as I'm entering the plane I have one of those moments---"did I go down the right gangway?" I was living life rotely at the moment. So, I ask the flight attendant as I enter, "are we going to Greenville?" She smiles and says, "yes, unless you'd like to go somewhere else." I assured her I was fine with the destination. I get to my seat--there are two sets of twins in the rows behind me --- oh crap, I think, lots of crying babies.
I have a window seat and I'm looking out on the tarmac not seeing anything. So, I pull out the magazine my sister gave me at Christmas with a brown paper note attached -- "for inspiration". I looked thru it once quickly and I start to look again -- we haven't even left the gate yet. And the flight attendant comes on and welcomes us and says we're headed to...and here she pauses long enough to catch my attention. I look up and she's laughing as she catches herself and says, "Greenville" right as we make eye contact. We share a smile.  I go back to my magazine. A couple of pages later we get started and take off. And then, 2 of the children start screaming. At that moment, I thought again of the Cutie. It had been sweet and simple and basically perfect and I had taken hardly 30 seconds to enjoy it. I looked down at my "inspiration" magazine. I look out the window and realize--I'm flying. I mean, I'm literally flying through the sky. I can see the earth below me with its roads and dwellings and patterns of farms and-- I'm FLYING over them. I'm going from one side of the country to the other in a matter of hours.
Why the heck did I not slow down and enjoy each lovely slice of the Cutie? The river below me really does look like a black snake making its way across the open farmland---it looks like a piece of art, with purposeful, intricate weaving through lines of fields.
I opened my bottle of water--the first swallow tastes sweet--so cold, clear and it seems to be like honey to me.
It's super cold outside and my breath fogs up the window on the inside as I look carefully at the ice-crystals on the outside of the window. Intricate, tiny sculptures.  I breathed on it again and left a message for the next passenger. :)
I started to scribble these thoughts down in the margins of the "inspiration magazine" till my pen died.
It turned into a delightful journey of experiencing each stimuli slowly and deliberately. Does anyone really stop and enjoy Life ... every, single moment?
The flight attendant's name was Marna.
Every once in a while, my breath would fog the window and I would see my message. It makes me smile now to think about it.

Today's lesson on the airplane was: Deep breath. Slow down. Think. Enjoy. Relish.

In their own words...

With their permission, I've decided to share a few stories from my students. (They speak for themselves. They are verbatum.)


"I remember at the age 12. I seen these drug users fighting over a pipe which is use for crack cocaine. The pipe was lost. The first drug user Chris thought that Joe stole his pipe so Joe went and got a gun from his car but Chris exscaped out of the window, hours late they where back together using drugs again
I remember I was in the 6th grade and my mother lost her job so she didn't have any money to buy me the name brand shoes. My mother bought me some cheap shoe out of Pic N Pay, the name of the shoes where Jordansie knock off. I went to school in the shoes and we had field day that day. All the kids were picking on me because, I didn't have Jordon on it was the most painful day of my life I was in a fight that day the kids pick on me. I was suspend from school for five days. I told my mother why I was susupened and she got some money from my grandmother to buy me the real Jordan. Thank God for Grandmom."

--Ant

"My next door neigbor beat up his girlfriend and the police and swat team came out this was last year. it was a stand off the police made everyone come out there apartment and it was very cold the news peoples came out we was on the news he tried to kill his self. he had just got out of jail for jumping on his mother so he was out on bond. we stayed outside for three hours. when they finally brought him out he was cursing and talking about killing his girlfriend they hit him with the stung gun and that didn't even fase him. he just jump around and laugh."

--Delois

"Mainly, in my childhood, all I ever saw was arguing, fighting and drinking. By the time I was ready for my bath, my mom or my dad was drunk. My parents were divorced, so that is where the arguing and fighting comes into this. Unless my sister was around, I was always alone. My sister practically raised me because my mom and dad was always drunk. If my sister was not around, I had to do everything on my own. At eight years old, I knew how to cook myself dinner. From all of this happening, I always thought that I would end up to be a nobody in life. I really never thought there was anything more than working during the day and drinking all night. Then, someone came into my life and showed me that I can do what I want with my life and that I do not need to follow the same road as my parents. At this moment in time, I have proven to my entire family and all of my friends that one day I will be someone in  life and that I will be successful. I just hope one day, my son will follow this way of thinking and create his own path or road in life and that he does not have to follow other people's decisions."

--Andrea

"I witnessed my best friend killed by her baby daddy prior to him killing her the night before he broke into her house and brutally beat her with a baseball bat. She called the police who didn't do anything about it. Her baby daddy called her apologizing about what he did to her. And told her he wanted to make things right. He needed to talk to her so she told us that she was going to the southside to meet up with him we tried to talk her out of it. But she insisted that she talk to him when she pulled up he shot her in the head twice right in front of their child then went up the street and killed his self. In conclusion to this two lives were takin due to nonsense."

--Nichole

"It was a nice weathered friday summer night. I went to yet another friday night party at the Rec Center. I went to many of them, but this one would turn out to be different. The night started off right, and we were having fun. And then that's when it started.
I was sitting at a table with some people when one of the guys requested a certain song. The bass player told greg that they didn't do that song. He then said, if he wanted to hear that song he had to go home and hear it. Some peple started laughing. Greg was offended. Greg stood and started making threats to the bass player.
The bass player seen that Greg was tkaing this the wrong way so he apologized. He even walked up to our table and shook Greg's hand. Then he went into his pocket and pulled out a bag of weed. He put a pile on the table and said, You guys can have this. Well, this still wa snot good enough for Greg.
Greg continue to make threats and make avancements toward the bass player. The arguing continued. Then Greg's friend Dennis joined in.  I just looked, I wasn't in it. They than started following the bass player outside. They show was over. Greg pulled out a knife. He didn't know that oe of the other band members had passed the bass player a gun. He starting to shoot. Greg was shot first because he was the closes. Then Dennis was shot. Because he saw me sitting with them he asumed i had there back so he shot me when I was on the run. fortunately for us nobody died."

--Stan

"I had a twin brother that was killed in a car wreck. My brother, my mom and I all worked at the same place a place called Dayco. We all go up on the day of April 27th, 2011 to go to work. My brother rode to work with us but when we got to the parking lot his friends we picking him up because they all were going to Cherokee to a bike rally for the weekend. Before mom and I went in for work we told my brother bye and told him to be careful. Later that day I was working and started to hurt really bad in my stomach so I went over to my mom and told her. Then she goes called my dad and told him to come pick me up and take me home. Dad came get me we got home and 2 hours later my mom comes home early and she's crying and said that my brother and his friends were in a car wreck and my brother was dead. Me being his twin I went crazy. They were on this curving road and it was raining and they went off the road down a bank and flipped and my brothers head hit a big rock. There were in the mountains so it took the paramedics a while to get there by then he was bleeding inside real bad but he died on the way to the hospital. All the family by now is arriving up to the hospital t osee my brother when I walked into that room and saw my brother lying on that table I will never forget that. He was covered in blodd and his body was so swollen that you barely could tell who he was. When we had his funeral it was the hardest hink I ever had to go through ever in my life. I just didn't loose a brother I lost my best friend."

--Karen

"When I was sixteen I was riding my bike one day. I could ride real well and I had a big head about this. I felt like my bike was the fastest in town. I also felt that I could even beat small mortorcycles. I felt like a profesional bicyclist.
One day my father tolded me to go around the corner and get my sister. I went around the corner to get her. She said something smart and took off. I went after her I thought I'll really show her something if I swing around the curve wide and catch her. I was riding with no hands. Being a real show-off.
This was a mistake. There was a car coming. Even though he was on the wrong side of the street, I should have had my hands on my handle-bars. By the time I reach for them it was to late. I ran right into the front off the car, hit the windshield went up in the air and came down and hit the street.
I substained injuries to the left side of my body. The worst being my left forearm. I woke-up in the hospital the next day. They had me down for a amputation. They flew in a specialist and he saved my arm! I had just started practicing with the football team. Now I was out for the season. I think this was one of the turning points of my whole sports career."

--Stan

in other words...

today I heard a unique conglomoration of speeches. some examples are:

"my first day in jail"
"the day my mom found out i was pregnant"
"my first dui--life without a license"
"just because you're found guilty doesn't mean you are" (and i quote: "i have proof, y'all! he done it. i just be goin affer him to protec myself!")
"how i became a nail tech" (more on this speech later. it was mesmerizing...not even kidding.)
"why my family won't celebrate together anymore" (this was a 'humorous' speech)
"our first family vacation and why we will never have another one" ("we bought us a pool and we ain't never goin to no beach agin...ever!")
"how i caught the man who broke into my home" (this turned into a 'how to' speech. the class gave lots of positive affirmation. lots of stalking and waiving guns involved with this.)
"how everyone is affected by ghetto" (the visual aids will not be mentioned by me...ever)
"how i lost my basketball scholarship because of my temper"  (i never want to meet this woman in an alley...let alone a dark one. make that the street, in general.)
"my first knife fight" (he claimed he was scared to death. he showed us the scars. whoa.)
"my scariest day in the military" (again...not going to want to keep this one lurking around in my head)

plus, an inordinate amount of speeches about giving birth.

there were speeches i wish i had recorded to go back over and pick out some gems of comedy; some intriguing slaughtering of English and suprisingly pithy statements. others, i would block entirely from my mind. all in all, i learned much.

...hope...

i have been covered by the earth
--and still i see hope

i have been burned by the sun
--and yet i feel hope

i have been drowned by the sea
--and yet i breathe hope

come
cut me with wit,
curse me with smiles,
crush me with loss

i know hope.

ahhh....to sleep, perchance to dream

if you know me remotely well, then this post is no surprise. Sleep eludes me on a regular basis. I'm definitely one of those people who function on a very small portion of it. As a small child, I can remember laying awake for hours staring at the ceiling, listening to my sister partake of the aforementioned bliss. I go to bed faithfully at night, knowing it will take me hours to fall asleep regardless of how tired I am. So, the logic is, the sooner I lay down, the greater my chances of getting more sleep. I like the days I don't have to be anywhere early, because I might get an hour or more of this loveliness. However, I awake often throughout the night when I do fall asleep. For instance, last night, I watched the time tick away until 3ish, woke up about every hour on the hour, check the time, groan, and roll over hoping to fall asleep soon. It isn't always this rough, but it's the general feel. I ask myself why. I can't remember a time I wasn't like this.
I'm partial to the studies that show that people who need less sleep are more intelligent and their brains are super-active. I'm not fond of the ones that show that it's bad for your health, affects your work, emotions, etc.
So, why don't I do anything about it? Well, I've tried some of those over-the-counter things and they have the opposite effect. My heart races, I feel like I could run a marathon. I tried the natural remedies. No difference. I've tried the being careful what you eat, no caffeine, exercising like a fiend to get tired, etc. Nothing seems to change. It does not matter how physically exhausted I am, my mind goes crazy when I try to sleep. Of course, I've had some of my best ideas during these hours. I've anguished over huge portions of my life, I've written poetry, I've planned out numerous outcomes for the future....what else can I do? and, yes, it has affected my health; physically and mentally.

I'm so jealous of the people who can close their eyes and immediately fall asleep...anywhere. The people who can lay down and have a refreshing 20 minute nap in the afternoon. How do you do it, people?

the conclusion: my mind is freakish, it will not be quiet, guess I'll have to live with it. In Heaven, I plan to take a nice, long nap.

conflictions

i have a student this semester (sorry, ferpa) who gave a speech on how drunk driving has impacted his life. he's lost two family members and has been in an accident himself because of excessive consumption. so, he urged his fellow classmates, and myself, to refrain from this.

no problem.

last class period, i could hardly be within two feet of him without the strong odor of alcohol overwhelming me. today, he gave a very slurred speech in class.  it's only eleven in the morning. did he drive to school? will i see him in the parking garage driving away after class?

i go to my second class and look in the face of a girl who was hit by a drunk driver on her way to school at eight in the morning. many facial reconstruction surgeries later, she smiles at me from her seat. i remember her crying as she told her story.

starry floor

my floor looks like a van gogh painting right now. or maybe that's the laundry in piles, faithfully awaiting their turn in the wash. i don't like doing laundry, but i love how clothes smell when they come out of the dryer. laundry can accumulate so quickly. i've heard of people who run out of clean underwear and instead of washing they just buy another 3-pack. when i come to the end of wearing all the clothes i really like, i know it's time to break down and just do it. i wish there were laundry fairies, but they must hang out with the job fairies in my world. what if laundry was just a metaphor for your emotional life? scattered, pushed-off, trampled on? i don't think i want to go down that train of thought anymore.

i notice there's an unusual amount of black in my wardrobe. i wonder what could account for this? it's definitely not the same excuse that audrey hepburn has, that's for sure. is it because i'm so dramatic? nope. i think i'll stick with the most obvious reason.

to buy more clothes would be wonderful, but that means you have to go try them on....in front of 3-way mirrors. definitely not for the faint of heart. unless you're one of "them".

you know who you are.

half-eye

one contact is bothering me. the right side. if i just look thru that eye, the world is a little blurry today. i realized too late, i shouldn't try this activity while at the check-out counter. the clerk gave me a bewildered look. ahhh....he thinks i'm winking at him? that i have a twitch? that half of my brain doesn't work on thursdays? i open my mouth to explain what's wrong and then shut it. who cares? he sure doesn't. maybe he'll go out tonight and talk about the weird girl that came to work today.
however, this little trick makes some ugly stuff look different...more like a hazy oil painting. who knew wade hampton's abandoned buildings could be artsy? so, would my life be better if i saw absolutely clearly in both eyes? all the ugly? no funny stories told about me? i don't know. it's the out-of-ordinary that is most interesting.
i read in a magazine that polka-dots are IN...everyone who is anyone will be in dots this season. polka-dots hurt my eyes. they remind me of large circus costumes. would i really be more attractive covered in various sized circles? (let me see...close the left eye. yeah, looking good.) maybe it's just a huge distraction: the observer is so overcome by the visual feast they miss all the physical flaws AND stunning personality?
so, half-eye or no?  in the eye of beholder. (cliche. touche.)


going home to get a new pair of contacts and ransack closet for dots.

looking out...

...my window as i drive from the george (downtown s'burg) to the main usc campus every m/w, i see pretty much the same thing. but, one sight i always take more than a second look. it's the millikin research plant. so, basically, mr. millikin is pretty famous here in the upstate, i think. textiles, and all. well, there's this huge imposing building, not aesthetically pleasing, no sign of life coming from within. but, the front of the property catches my eye every time. there's a man-made pond and probably 50 geese/ducks hanging around it. there are always cars parked on the side of the road and people are out just gazing at the pond, feeding the ducks, jogging/walking, etc. i don't know what is so inspiring in the water that makes so many people stop. it's not a very pretty spot wedged next to the highway. the landscaping is dull, the pond is no larger than my row of townhouses, nothing to sit on except goose-defecated lawn or the curb.  but, it speaks of an oasis for these regulars. i think i know where i'm going to have my lunch break on monday.

poems that should be heard

Untitled Sonnet

(by Edna St. Vincent Millay)

If I should learn, in some quite casual way,

  That you were gone, not to return again --

Read from the back-page of a paper, say,

  Held by a neighbor in a subway train,

How at the corner of this avenue

  And such a street (so are the papers filled)

A hurrying man -- who happened to be you --

  At noon to-day had happened to be killed,

I should not cry aloud -- I could not cry

  Aloud, or wring my hands in such a place --

I should but watch the station lights rush by

  With a more careful interest on my face,

Or raise my eyes and read with greater care

Where to store furs and how to treat the hair.

and then enters the story of grace

first post

as there will only be one of these, i do wish i had something epic to say. this is just a collection of the many things that interest and inspire me. if i could find one thing that i could actually make a living off of, i will consider this foray into the ridiculous well worth it. let the search begin...