Once...

Once upon a time, a girl fell in love with language. She loved listening to stories, to accents, to teachers talking.

Then she grew up. She got a job that allowed her to chase her love of language. But...

See. It does happen. In doing the thing she loves, she doesn't have time to do the thing she loves.

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I do still have a brain. I promise. I even have time, sometimes. I just don't seem to be able to blog the way I want to blog. I'm not giving up, just like I haven't given up on poetry. But, I'm not doing much of either right now.

It doesn't mean I'm not a poet. It doesn't mean I'm not a blogger either.

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In personal news (if you care), I'm headed to the Southern Women Writers Conference tomorrow. The irony is thicker than Alabama humidity. I know, I know. Maybe all of these successful women writers will rub off on me, inspire me, help me out of my dry spell.

:)

Hope.

Who I'm Not

I do not have a gift closet. I do not have a card calendar. If it weren't for my wonderful Uncle, I wouldn't know most of my family's birthdays * and if you are on my maternal side or are a friend, this is why I don't know yours -- my Uncle didn't put it on the calendar for me. I rarely write thank you notes.

But I have friends and family who send me cards on appropriate holidays, anniversaries, and birthdays. I even have friends who send wonderful cards for the hell of it. I received such a card today (thank you, you).

I've always wanted to be someone who did these things: buy gifts when you see something that you think another would like. Hang on to it (in the gift closet) until the appropriate day (and I would know those days), and mail it so that it arrives on time.

Thank you to my friends who send me cards and gifts and phone me just to talk.

At my age, I should accept the things I cannot change. I know, I know. But I often wonder if it is really too much to ask of myself: to be this dream person.

It must be.

Pay by check

Nowadays I do almost everything electronically. I pay my bills, communicate with my friends, set up meetings with students, even shop for jeans (that's right girls, I order them without trying them on -- they can always be returned).

You press a button and viola -- it is done, immediately: the jeans are on the way, the bill is paid, the meeting is for 10:30 am. There is no more lag time.

I'm not much for nostalgia; in general, I believe in moving with the times. Keep up or let it go. But I do sometimes long for those few days of money in the bank while the check moves through the postal system: that cushion time where we could coast for a day or two, think about the possibilities, breathe a bit, you know?

The thing is, there used to be a little wiggle room, a little time left over. Immediacy has its advantages. I sure hope it does. In the mean time, if there is one, I find myself longing for a day or two before the proverbial check clears.

Silence

I've always been terrified and fascinated with silence. It is both exhilarating and demoralizing. Sometimes I love letting a class sit quietly thinking, sometimes their silence unnerves me.

Living alone leaves lots of moments silent that might otherwise been filled with conversation. I talk to the dog a lot.

I've been silent on the blog too. There are lists of reasons for them. None of the reasons are adequate.

Here is what I am feeling:

When I look back, my life seems to be a series of choices. I never knew when I was making the choices all of the information I needed. As I sit alone, silent, I am only certain of one thing: uncertainty.

I get up, I move, I breathe. I listen to the walls as they pop and creak. The dog is warm at my side.

I sleep. I dream.

I don't know much more than that. I imagine that I am not alone.

The same everywhere

My crazy-religious mother always says that the world become chaotic (i.e. no law abiding citizens) when the "rapture" happens because all of the Christians will be gone. I've finally outgrown fighting with her about it, but I can say this:

there are cheaters everywhere

Now that I teach at a Methodist school, I have had the benefit of having two problems happen to me within 10 minutes of each other: First, I caught two guys "sharing" homework (which turns out to mean that one went on the other's computer, changed the name, and turned it in as his own). Then, within minutes, a kid came to me because he thought I was "penalizing his grade" for giving a presentation that was anti-abortion. When I said no, you got a B instead of an A because you didn't talk about LITERATURE in a LITERATURE class, he said, well, this is a Methodist College, and he was not going to apologize for his religion.

I tell you. This is a crazy world, and when the Christians are zapped into heaven, it will still be the same crazy world. Only then, the rest of us will be under no illusions about where our morals and ethics come from.

Kid number two in the paragraph above ended his "presentation" with
"Christians, are you going to do something about it (abortions) and Atheists, what if you're wrong?"

The number of things wrong with this "discussion question" are boundless, but my favorite way to think about it, as I said to him in class, is to turn it around on him...Christians, what if you're wrong? The humor was somehow lost on him.

So, now, I am left to ask myself, how, as a non-Christian, I find the ethics to prosecute cheaters.

God only knows.