Finding My Place

A quiet weekend after so much uproar. Friday night was tender and quiet – lots of tears and holding and just surviving. Saturday was spent with friends – lunch, then working all afternoon, then dinner and movies and sleep. Today I’ve been firmly planted on the couch all day, reading and catching up on my mail. I wish I had good news to tell instead of bad, but somehow the telling makes it a little better. I have lots of options. Tonight we’re going to an Oscar party at Amy & Donovan’s – Kevin of whygodwhy is supposed to be there, which would be cool. But for right now I’m sitting on my couch with my little girlkat in my lap, drinking a soda and thinking about nothing.

This rejection feels almost like the end of a relationship – and I suppose every disappointment is like that in a way. This rejection means reconfiguring my vision of my future self. I had it all worked out in my head, how I was going to be, how my life would be, how things would change. And then things happen and it all changes. The teaching E, the going-to-school E, the talking about classes and students E – she doesn’t exist, and if she ever will, it won’t be this fall. Maybe an in-the-moment mindset is best because then you can’t be disappointed when the things you hope for don’t come to fruition. I sound terribly morose, but I’m not. Maybe it’s that so much has already changed – this bitter let-down is just another in a series of unpredicted events that has totally shaken up my world or my conception of the world. But I’ll change with it, as I have changed so many times before. No summers off – not yet – but I have the chance to change jobs, to find another way to be down here.

I suppose the hardest part of it is that I feel even more out of place with my English department friends. It’s hard being the only non-department person at dinners – and still harder being the only non-student of the bunch. Now those are exacerbated by the nagging feeling that I’m not good enough for that group because not only am I not a part of that world – I tried to make it and was rejected. No one has ever made me feel that way overtly – it’s just a nagging issue of self-confidence, of self-worth. I know I’m intelligent and a good friend and all that – but this has been another blow to my pride, and one I’m going to have to live with every day. But I guess that’s life.


the passion of the christ

I was not prepared for The Passion of the Christ. I was raised strictly Christian, with 12 years of parochial school under my belt, as well as myriad years of Sunday school and Bible study and such. No one ever minced words on the brutality of the crucifixion, not once we were old enough to handle such things. But I was not prepared. I was able to hold it in for a while, but when he fell after the beating, when the scourge caught in his flesh and was ripped away – the tears came streaming down my cheeks unabated. Nothing I could do. Nothing I knew could prepare me for that moment. Even the crucifixion itself wasn’t as bad.

The movie was, well, almost beyond words. Brutal, unrelenting, beautiful, heart-breaking. From the first shadowy moments in the Garden of Gethsemane, Gibson has you by the throat, and doesn’t let go until the last shadowy moments in the tomb. He plays you skillfully, patiently, carefully – letting it go almost too far, then pulling back. The story begins in the Garden, and ends with the resurrection – but takes you, through flashback, to the Sermon on the Mount, the Last Supper, and many other pivotal moments in Jesus’s life. Gibson’s timing is exquisite. Scenes of utter brutality are inter-cut with scenes from childhood, from Jesus’s ministry – tender moments with his friends, with his mother. This device also allows Gibson to do some cool things with gestures, with motion – Mary Magdalene on her knees in the dust watching Jesus’s torture becomes Mary Magdalene in the dust at Jesus’s feet as he saves her from the Pharisees – Pilate washing his hands in a gesture of resignation becomes Jesus washing his disciples’ feet in a gesture of humility. Gibson also uses Satan in really interesting ways – I’ll have to think on this a bit more. And the Pieta and the moment when Satan’s fate is sealed and Judas’s torment and how beautiful Monica Bellucci is and and so much more.

But yeah, wow. I would say “I’ll have to see it again to solidify my opinion”, but I don’t know if I can. It was – incredible. I’m glad we went.


24 was great, Indian food was great, sitting on the couch with the boy was great. He was a little busy with laundry and grading and computer games, but some nights will be like that. Came home and beat level 18 on Dr. Mario, then went to bed. Woke to sunlight pouring in my window while I was all warm and snuggly in bed. I’m running late, but I have coffee already made, a hot shower waiting, and scones &/or banana bread for breakfast. Here’s hoping for a good day.

nothing’s changing

It’s a beautiful night for me to be here
With my empty head
I should have stayed at home & watch the weather
It’s a wonderful night buts it’s a shame because there is an empty bed
I should have stayed at home
Till I got better
& nothings changing
The records scraping round and round
The people drive their cars to town
I ask the weatherman to sent a cloud my way
I ask the weatherman by Monday
I ask the weatherman
Damien‘s Juniper

Monday 11:40 a busy busy day already. Cherry tomatoes and free coffee for lunch, and I’m killing time. It’s cold today, and rainy. I slept in the hot-hot room with the windows open, the cool air on my skin stirring memories of things so distant. Listening to Damien is probably not the best thing to do when I’m already feeling tired and emotional and ruminative. I don’t want to go back to the office, having already been bitched out for something not my fault. We’re only to go to the back a couple of times a day, so when I ask if they can get me quarters when they’re already going, I get bitched out? Right. I could use some good news today.

Oh, this is wonderful fun. Thanks, Bayeux tapestry. 🙂 Also, Animals on the Underground. Mind the Gap!

Thanks for your words of encouragement, support, and love. It may be narcissistic and pathetic, but it’s nice to hear from you guys. I’ve looked for an outlet for a long time, and I think that blogging is it. Funny how that happens. I was never very good at keeping a journal – I like writing letters but don’t like not getting any in return or not having a record of what I’ve sent – I love reading – I try to write – but for some reason this format really, really works for me.

Ehh, back to work…

i’m sorry for all the updates today. a few brief things, then i’ll go.

1. i need to stop buying things that won’t fit in my car.
2. that said, a tv that costs $129.99 should fit in my car. said tv fit, but not in the box, so my trunk now contains a massacred box.
3. i have a tv. yay!
4. when you go through the drive through lane at a fast food restaurant, is it normal to be asked “is this for here or to go?”. shawn suggested that maybe i would be given my meal on a tray, which i would then have to go back through the lane to return when i was done eating.
5. i need to vacuum but refuse to do so at this hour. maybe tomorrow.

I would like to kick this day in the teeth. I’m really fucking beat, and about to embark on yet another trip to Best Buy, this time to scout out a TV. Thanks for the birthday money, Gram! I know I should save it for other things, but I earmarked this long-awaited check for this purpose, so there.

Oh, and you’re fucking high if you think I’m cooking tonight. I’m going to take a shower (to tame my infernally big hair), then see about some dinner before 24.

The archives are coming back online, slowly but surely.

I’m at Za’s eating lunch – fettucine with mushrooms, black olives, and grilled chicken in a cream wine sauce. There’s a group of girls sitting half a room away talking all pretentious-like, and it makes me laugh. They can’t be more than 15 – they’re talking about “fourth period” – and I wonder if I was that pretentious when I was that age. I’ve always been a stuck up sort of bitch – I’m friends with everyone but still look down my nose at people on occasion – but I don’t remember trying that hard when I was younger. Maybe I did. *shrugs*

Work is hella busy. Hella busy. Normally I have about 20 things to run in the morning – this morning we had almost 60. Thank god Ron is in today.

But back to the archives – reading all these entries, changing them for the page, updating links – it’s both good and difficult. There are things I’ve forgotten that I’m now reliving – and things I wish I could forget, but there they are, on the screen in front of me. It’s hard to encounter the person I once was – in many ways she is so different from the person I am now. Part of me wants to excise all proof that she existed, but the rest of me knows that I can’t, and that I would regret getting rid of that part of my past.

you really must check out jojo in the stars. it just won a bafta and is small and wonderful. also, an interview with marc craste, the creator, talking about jojo and the pica towers. i can’t wait to see the full length film.

a quiet night. met shawn at moonstruck after three-strikes-you’re-out attempts to sell the rings. bummed around, then waited for the proofreading person to show up – she was half an hour late, wanted me to look over another draft, then paid me half of what i’d asked for. her paper was fairly well written, so i couldn’t grudge her that, i guess. home, then chicken tarragon for dinner, followed by a nice hot bath. i took the boy home a little bit ago, and now i’m just winding down. tomorrow will be hellishly busy – tuesdays after mondays off always are – and i will be tired tired tired by the end of it. g’night, kids.