Day 92: Here at the Uni…

When you’re a teacher, the most meaningful, and perhaps important, part of your job is your students. I was on campus working at the university today and I decided to segue from my work to get a sandwich for lunch.  I noticed one of my students, one of my more insightful and dedicated ones would be an understatement, I approached her and we got to talking about her current endeavors (I always like to hear what my students are doing and the ways in which they have advanced).  She informed me that she is working with a program referred to as “summer bridge” wherein she helps a cohort of university freshman make is through their first year of college; I was so proud of her.

As I began to turn away from her, she stopped and looked me in the eye,

“The things I learned from you really helped me and I will never forget them. I just want to thank you for everything you taught me about writing.”

I beamed. Those are the real moments, the ones that counteract all the freshman students who sit in the back of the room and quietly sneer or text. It reminds you why you teach and it makes me feel like I am making a difference here at this university.

professor whit.

Day 57: it is possible.

To redo your room with barely any money.

This was before.

And now…

Please excuse the crap sitting on the bed. It’s actually not done–later on I’m going to tuft a backing for that headboard (it will cover it and be rounded at the top where the edge is). I really wish I had a wide angle lens, so I could see the whole room (cut off the nightstand and armoire and complete other wall) but I’m proud of myself for seeing this project through. It kept me busy, and I had fun learning what not to do when painting furniture!

Plus, these pillows–

The best idea ever because I do not sew. Just tie the thing into a square knot and pin it.

Day 56: the move and helping out a fellow CL-er

I forgot to mention this, but we did just move (or I should say I just packed 50 boxes, unpacked 50 boxes, and tore the house apart only to put it back together). Here are some process pictures, enjoy.

This = two leg cuts, five bruises, a tired body, and a pulled groin muscle.

I won’t bore you with the kitchen and bathroom, yet.

None of my room, that later.

Speaking of rooms, though. I just saw this on CL and got a HUGE laugh. Wow, they want how much for all that? The posting is even funnier, no, my friends, this is not the decor from a small girl’s room, read carefully…

Day 54: Fumbling With Power Tools.

This is my street.

This is my neighbor on my street…this morning.

A little later on today…

And…

Man versus woman. Man fumbles, woman gets it done. Nuff said.

Daily Cupcake: HOLSTEE MAY

The My Life by Holstee SITE is launched and here is the web URL, check it out.

Lots of inspiring stories and perspectives AND I’m on there somewhere. 😉

Being A Mom: Day 30

As I was walking through the bookstore the other day I saw this book and thought, “shit, there goes my idea.”  [Laughing] perhaps I can recover from this catastrophe somehow.  One can only hope.  Maybe if I add a spin on it and name the book, “How To Be Happy–While Living in a Port-O-Potty.” Of course, that would require me to go homeless, which is plausible I suppose.  In fact, as I was walking to class the other day I felt like I had somehow become the embodiment of Will Smith in film The Pursuit of Happiness.  I am being a little melodramatic.

Tonight it took me two minutes to answer the question , “black or pinto beans.”  I didn’t want to blabber pinto amidst tears, so I just stood there fighting them and then was finally able to speak, “black.”  I changed my mind two seconds later to pinto, instead.  Then, since I was ordering vegetarian, the guy said to me, “you know they have bacon!”  Like I’m some kind of vegetarian sinner, he cast his guilty eye, “yes, I know they are “roasted” in bacon, whatever, if I ever find an actual piece in there I will let you know.  Hasn’t happened yet.

I considered eating my burrito at Chipotle, but I eventually decided to take it home.  Then I sat at my table and stared at the beautiful flowers sent to me just yesterday.  About midway though I couldn’t take it any longer, so I just laid my head down and cried.  Little e wasn’t sent home on his flight today, and I miss him.  I’m exhausted, sad he won’t be to school tomorrow, and worried I won’t get to spend his birthday with him on Wednesday.  Ironically, I was able to read through my last posting,  which forced me to remember what it means to be a mother.  It means that sometimes we have to do hard things, sometimes we have to make sacrifices (and our children have to make sacrifices) in order to grow together. I think that’s what makes the best moms.  It’s not the ones who stay home with their kids (although some would argue this is), or those who know how to construct the perfect cupcake for their child’s birthday party, or even those who breastfeed for two years and let not an ounce of formula touch the lips of their infant.  It’s the mother who shows her child how much she loves him by bettering herself for him/her.  It’s the mother who while bettering herself shares that betterment with her child (a gift that will keep on giving for generations to come).  It’s the mother who always takes the time, no matter how busy life gets, to give her child what she can.  Sometimes, when life is busy, its the little thats given that means the most.

I am missing little e tonight, and I hope tomorrow brings resolve.  I hope he knows I wish I was spending time with him tonight, even though it may not be the most, it’s the most meaningful when we share it.

A whit-ing mom.

Photo taken by Angie Hill @ Google Images.

Daily Cupcake: What? Not Jewish Enough?

It’s quite odd, during the Holocaust many struggled with the idea of being, well, “too Jewish,” or rather Jewish at all.  Lives were literally lost over Jewishness, whether you looked it, acted it, etc.

Well, now there seems to be a new crisis.  Now, we’re dealing with the issue of being “not Jewish enough,” put quite simply.

Check this out.

This post is dedicated to all of those who experienced, survived, or were lost in the horrific Holocaust.  If this is a historical event that interests you I highly recommend the two part comic narrative Maus.

God Bless.

 

Should I get Divorced?: Day Eighteen

It seems to me that after you experience divorce, that is, become a divorcee, you also become a magnet for those seeking “friendly” relationship advice.  Since my divorce, I have never had so many married friends approach me expressing their own personal marital woes.  Can we say smoke and mirrors?

So, what do you say to these helpless worshippers?  Their eyes pining upwards toward yours, in dismay, you (well I) certainly cannot leave them hanging.

So, I tell them what my mother told me almost four years ago–

“It’s time to evaluate.  There are thirty days in a month and if over half of those thirty days are spent in argument/fighting/retribution, then you seriously need to consider your life.”

So, I did the addition and I recommend it to my pleading friends as well.  If you’re in the negative then…

I guess this doesn’t necessarily mean divorce, it didn’t for me, marriage counseling can always be the next step but most I find have already given that a fair shot.  So, then I move to my next bit of advice.

It isn’t easy (divorce that is).  So, consider wisely.  This isn’t a life and death situation, in any sense of physicality, but it may be with regard to the soul, your soul.  If he doesn’t pick up his dirty underwear, empty the dishwasher, or clean off the toilet seat–you may want to hire a maid and get a good job with long work hours, instead.  No, but seriously, divorce isn’t easy and making that jump will most certainly change you in every way possible, good and bad.  It will also present a little addition to your life.  Something I like to call the “what if factor.”

What if he had been different?

What if I had been different?

What if the timing had been different?

What if that whore from the Nordstrom shoe department had never been working that Wednesday afternoon when my husband, on a whim, decided to go peruse for a new pair of penny loafers?

You’ll always wonder, what might have been?  What dreams might have come AND could things have worked?  This is what you sacrifice when you choose divorce.  You sacrifice ever knowing.  However, consider this, whose to say things wouldn’t have been different anyway because with every circumstance, every change, there comes a differing outcome.  So, maybe the Nordstrom girl wasn’t there that Wednesday, instead, five years later your hubby gets run over by a truck crossing the street–either way, you’re alone with accompanying heartache.  It’s all a matter of relativity and the passage of time, leading you this way and that, all dependent on varying occurences.  I think Robert Frost put it nicely, “And both [roads] that morning equally lay / In leaves no step had trodden black / Yet knowing how way leads on to way / I doubted if I should ever come back.”

So, finally when I have exhausted all the aforementioned then I end with this, “secure your finances before ever mentioning the word divorce.”  Trust me, it’s not being deceitful…it’s being smart.  If you have to, stick it out, until you have what you need to leave.  I’ve encountered many friends, with young children, no assets, no education, their husband(s) owning everything; having reduced them to the life of: housewife.  Just make sure you leave when the time is ripe, oops, I mean right. 😉  It never hurts to get a little legal advice prior.

A good friend from back when I was married emailed me the other day concerning a matter similar to this post’s topic.  I thought it funny, she, after all these years, my divorce from her husband’s friend, had returned to me for some semblance of hope.  My final words to her, “I’ll be praying for you and your little family.”

That’s how my advice column will always end, always.

A divorced whit.

Daily Cupcake: For the Homosaps.

I thought I would change things up a bit for today and provide you with an excerpt of text.  This one is from Salman Rushdie’s Satanic Verses, which also means that this post won’t show up on several internet servers due to banning (not that anyone from the middle east reads my blog anyway).  For those of you seeing this, enjoy:

“Question: What is the opposite of faith?”

“Not disbelief.  Too final, certain, closed.  Itself a kind of belief.”

“Doubt.”

“The human condition, but what of the angelic.  Halfway between Allahgod and homsap, did they ever doubt?”

“…O God, he cries out, O allgood allahgod.”

Rushdie likes to use puns throughout his writing, created words, in this instance “allahgod” and “homosap” but these are just two of many examples, and they don’t come without intended meaning.  Suggestive of the word allahgod, through the combination of the Muslim Allah and the traditional Christian God is the creation of another dimension, a third space. A place where, perhaps, god and allah are one and the same, or they represent a new type of god  (perhaps any other god worshipped).  He also combines the words “all” and “good” adding emphasis to the fact that “allahgod” is “allgood,” and all encompassing.  Then what are we? “homosap.” This shortened version of our species describes us as “homo,” supposedly knowing; however, with the ending shortened to “sap” indicates a sort of foolishness.  So perhaps Rushdie is suggesting that we, humans, lack an open perspective/judgment concerning god and his universal nature, his allgood, allpowerful, allknowing, presence.

Just something to chew on.

Day Seventeen: “Gender is a Performance:” Play Your Own Part.

I recently stumbled upon this blog post, which I found to be slightly disturbing but not for the reason you might be inclined to think.

Our society has transitioned into a new wave of discrimination and this time the target seems gender related.  Since the beginning of time, and even currently, differing cultural groups, religious groups, varying ethnicities, have been the product of discriminatory practices but now we’re venturing into a whole new sphere.  I think the important thing to remember is this is nothing new.  As many of you know, my educational background is focused in the area of literature.  Throughout the years I have explored a variety of texts, poetry, fiction, essays, etc, where gender/sexuality issues exist.

Yes, there were homosexuals in the fifteenth century. Big shocker.

However, gender and sexuality, in the past, were presented mostly through allusions, satirical jest, etc.  We’re entering a new era and in this one people are opening up.  Finally, individuals are facing the blatant reality that gender is not so easily defined nor is sexuality.  How wonderful that we are transitioning towards this way of life, writing, living the obvious, the real, why hinder such?

But it’s happening, people are impeding this miraculous feat and, yet again, lives are being lost, ruined, and hurt because of differences.

A professor once said,

“gender is a performance, a fabrication.”

You could think of it like this, each one of us is playing a role in a play, acting the part, being the person that very role assigns.  Unfortunately, life, sexuality, gender, is far more complicated than a role so strictly designated.  Individuals may choose different performances or they may be living a biological performance different from that of yours or mine.  That doesn’t make their performance any less real or vital; however, your assumption or judgment of it may be detrimental to their life. If we continue with the theatrical allegory, the world of theatre, is quite obviously designed and encouraging of creativity, why not then in our own societal structures as well?

Individuals, children, adults, PEOPLE, should be allowed to live their lives. They should be allowed to perform the way they choose and most importantly our children need to know that those choices are okay because inevitably they will grow up and act a part of their own.

The holocaust, the chinese exclusion act, black slavery, native american discrimination, and the list goes on and on.  All of these historical events have one thing in common–injustice.  People being forced into roles they were never meant to inhabit.

So, play your part the way you want to.  Don’t try to perform the role necessarily assigned to you by socially constructed gender terms.  Little Boo played his part (the one he chose) and I think he did a great job of it.

Whit.