Scribbling: Wings

(Today I felt like trying another Scribbling Challenge. I’ll only get better at writing if I keep practicing . . .)

Moving out of my parents’ house was the best risk that I have ever taken.

Yes, I was a hopelessly naïve 23 year old, renting an attic room in a city I was unfamiliar with and with very few friends nearby.

Yes, I spent many evenings crying from loneliness.

Yes, I was horrible at managing my meager salary, often scraping together rent money at the last possible moment, eating ramen for dinner and vending machine food for lunch.

Moving forced me to learn how to live on my own, to put myself out there and make new friends, to go out on the town by myself and explore the world outside my door.

My parents loved me very much, but as their oldest daughter I was eager to please them. I never dated, never went out, was always at home trying to be helpful whenever I wasn’t spending long hours at work. My father is a very controlling sort of fellow, so I never wanted to test the boundaries at home. I mean, I was staying there rent free . . . and they were my parents . . .

But I was stifling there. I HAD to move out. There was a world out there I wanted to see . . . and besides, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to date anyone under the watch eyes of my dad – as protective of his “little” daughters as he was . . .

So one October weekend, I packed up my stuff into a small van and threw myself out on my own, jumping out of the warm, cozy nest, hoping that I could one day spread my wings and fly.

Fast forward almost fourteen years, and here I am. I’ve still got a lot of work to do in the confidence department, but somehow I managed to eventually get my own apartment, go through a few jobs, meet some amazing people, do some fun and fascinating things, get married to a very cool person, and have a pretty easy-going, interesting life.

Having wings means being open to risk – to put yourself out there high in the air with nothing but hard ground below and just see what happens. To thrust yourself out in the world with an idea of where you are going, but depending on which way the wind blows, you could end up anywhere. Sometimes you fall – and that really hurts! A wing breaks and you have to put yourself through the hard work of healing . . . and then somehow work up the nerve try to fly again.

It may be easier to stay in the nest, but in the long run it is always better to use those wings and try to fly.

Attention: Book Lovers!

Hello, everyone:

I just read Scott McLemee's article in Inside Higher Ed about the National Book Critic Circle's campaign to save the Book Review sections in newspapers around the country.

As someone who reads both the Washington Post's and New York Times' sections religiously every week and always finds at least a book or two to add to my growing list of "must reads," I know that I would be rather lost without them. I cannot imagine a paper getting rid of them, but many are . . .

I know many of you are huge readers (and some of you are actually writing books too!) - So please do what you can to spread the word and keep this community asset in your papers.

Some simple things that us little folks can do are:

**Go to the Critical Mass blog and get the lovely beige sticker to put on your blog.

**Write to your local newspaper’s publisher to express support for its book coverage. (It lets the paper know that people do read it and care about it.) And if your paper doesn’t have such a section, ask why not.

**Spread the word to other folks who would also care.

Thanks so much for your time and attention. We will soon go back to my usual random mutterings . . .

Oh, Yeah . . . It's Poetry Month Again!

Noting that my blog is over two years old now, I realized that I forgot to mention that this was National Poetry Month. Two years ago, Justrose over at the Anonymous Rowhouse had been sharing her thoughts on the month which, in turn, served as the nudge to start my own blog. That year, I think I showcased other people’s poems that I thought were interesting . . .

Last year, I inflicted my own horrible attempts at poetry on you all. I promise to NEVER, EVER do that again . . . because good grief, those certainly sucked a lemon . . .

This year, I was going to be more low key. I bought a book, Stephen Fry’s The Ode Less Travelled, as a way to learn more about the structures of poetry so I can begin to more intelligently appreciate poems and the ways in which good ones work.

I also bought The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes, because he is a Harlem Renaissance poet that I really wanted to learn more about. In school, I only learned about a few of his poems, but those were only the tip of the iceberg of his body of work . . .

As you know, my month has been crazy busy (as usual) but I am still committed to this little project of mine. However, I’ve just started reading the Fry book and it will take me a bit to work through it. (I highly recommend the Fry book – it is very witty and readable . . . and you’ll learn a lot! It also helps if you can imagine Fry’s British accent as you read it – He is best known here in the States for playing Jeeves next to Hugh Laurie’s Bertie Wooster.)

Here are a couple of Hughes poems that struck me the first time I glanced through his book . . .

The Dream Keeper

Bring me all of your dreams,
You dreamers,
Bring me all of your
Heart melodies
That I may wrap them
In a blue cloud-cloth
Away from the too-rough fingers
Of the world.

Silence

I catch the pattern
Of your silence
Before you speak.

I do not need
To hear a word.

In your silence
Every tone I seek
Is heard.

Sleep

When the lips
And the body
Are done
She seeks your hand,
Touches it,
And sleep comes,
Without wonder
And without dreams,
When the lips
And the body
Are done.

I Dream a World

I dream a world where man
No other man will scorn,
Where love will bless the earth
And peace its paths adorn.
I dream a world where all
Will know sweet freedom’s way,
Where greed no longer saps the soul
Nor avarice blights our day.
A world I dream where black and white,
Whatever race you be,
Will share the bounties of the earth
And every man is free,
Where wretchedness will hang its head
And joy, like a pearl,
Attends the needs of all mankind –
Of such I dream, my world!

Flower Pictures

Over Easter, I took some pictures of the flowers that I had in the house.

I just feel like I need to add a bit of color to the blog today . . .

Contains Live Culture

On Sunday, my friend J and I went to see the Washington Shakespeare Company’s performance of “Edward III.” The WSC, for now, stages its performances in an old warehouse on the edge of town, next to a seedy looking motel (Bring your own Lysol, Raid and sheets!). Very bare bones setting – makes you feel like you are going to have some sort of an avant-garde, guerilla theater experience.

The bathrooms were kind of scary though – at least the ladies’ room was – the sort of ancient fixtures, stains and visual decay that I haven’t seen since being part of the Philadelphia public school system.

I thoroughly enjoyed the play, but the actor who played the French king, John, was much better than the one who played Edward III, so towards the end we were rooting for the French to win rather than the English. The actor had sort of a James Earl Jones heft to the role, and his lines were spoken with a believability and a fluidness that just made him a more accessible character. In the newspaper review of the play, he was not mentioned at all, which I thought was a great shame . . .

In a few weeks, Mr. Random, J and I are going to see “Coriolanus” at the Kennedy Center, which should be a really cool time. Mr. Random and I haven’t been to the Kennedy Center in years, while J never has been. I’m probably going to feel like dressing up a bit for such a fancy place, but not too fancy, because neither J nor Mr. Random are dress up people . . .

I still owe you guys pictures – the problem is that sometimes when I feel like writing these posts, I am no where near my photo files . . .

My allergies are wreaking havoc with my throat and my voice is now a low rasp. It’s such a shame because I love spring, but I seem to be feeling it more this year . . .

By the way, yesterday was the TWO year anniversary for this blog! Woo hoo!

I have more to write, but not much time to write it. How is everyone doing? I know Eric is pretty much finished with his book, and Virginia Gal is going to try to place herself in the sights of the newly single Prince William, and CS did EarthFest on Sunday . . . what else is going on?

Out of Breath

It has been a long, hard week. My Random Mom-in-law is still here, and we have spent every day since Friday out and about, trying to get in lots of sightseeing. It has not been very successful . . .

If you remember the last time she was here in town, it was that week in August that was the hottest, most humid week of the year. Random Mom-in-law was having a lot of trouble walking around and we all blamed it on the stifling heat and humidity (coupled with her non-stop smoking, but you know . . .)

Ever since then, she vowed to come back when the weather was a bit nicer. In the interim, she told us that she was starting to walk around a bit more at home and get more exercise . . .

Well, it seems that that was not entirely the case. She still smokes a great deal, about once every 50 minutes or so and whenever we leave a building or step out of a car. And she is not able to walk more than 20 feet without getting winded, even less if there is a slight incline. Since DC is a very walking oriented place, it rather limited our options on what we could see and how long we could stay. For example, yesterday we went to the National Cathedral and she looked like she was about to have a heart attack just walking the block towards the building. She was heavily breathing the whole 45 minutes we were there, and we were only able to visit the main floor and the gift shop – she was so worn out that we could not tour the rest of the building – before trudging back to the car to go to an early dinner. We had planned to visit another favorite haunt of ours, but she simply could not take much more walking and we had to go home.

It pains both Mr. Random and I to see this. We are both very concerned about her health. She is quite overweight, drinks a lot of white wine in the evenings and has a very nasty cough. It was quite a contrast when we went to visit my parents over the weekend – they are only a few years younger than she is – and seeing how vigorous and active they are compared to what she could do. Since she retired last spring, she stays mostly at home and is not interested in doing very much. She has very few friends outside of her old job . . .

We have tried to hint that she might like to move out here, where there is so much to do and a large social scene of people her age and with her background. There are many research opportunities here . . . and she would be a lot closer to her son and daughter-in-law. We are so afraid that she is not taking care of herself at all. Mr. Random’s sister still lives at home with their mom, but she does not seem to help the situation – for reasons I can’t go into right now . . .

I feel horrible because I want to be a good daughter-in-law and make sure she is happy, but I just get so . . . annoyed and impatient . . . with her in the condo, her presence looming and inert. I’m kind of an active girl, so not being able to go out and see very much drives me bats. Hanging out at the condo drives me bats too, because I can’t just hang out in my pajamas and read in a corner somewhere – I have to entertain, or at least not seem like I’m ignoring our guest. I was incredibly sick yesterday and wanted to stay home and sleep, but Mr. Random didn’t want to be on his own with his mom. I’m still not feeling well today, so he owes me big time when this is over . . .

I’m at work today and the weather seems nice, so things should be looking up for the rest of this week. I am resolved to try to salvage what I can out of this visit and try to make it a bit more positive, now that I have gotten my unhappiness off of my chest. Random Mom-in-law really is a cool person and I should try to focus more on what she can do, than what she can’t. Wish me luck for the rest of the week, and I’ll try to post more upbeat things later . . .

“I thought I’d stay home today and accept the things I can’t change.”

(Yes, yet another New Yorker cartoon tagline . . .)

No, I’m not at home today, but I really wish I was. Still have TONS of cleaning up to do before the Random Mom-in-law comes tomorrow, but I have a seminar to go to this evening which means I’ll be up incredibly late tonight – de-cluttering rooms, moping floors, changing sheets, and generally just freaking out big time . . .

We FINALLY had the new sink and vanity installed in our bathroom. Woo hoo! I can brush my teeth in the bathroom again! I will put up a picture of the bathroom once the new mirror is up and the new towels are in place . . . Um, yes, we did a little shopping this week for new stuff, in fact a little too much shopping . . . but with such a nice new thing in the bathroom, it just makes me want to spruce up everything. Last night we bought a new bathroom mirror (to match the dark wood of the new vanity), a colorful new comforter and sheets for the guest room (which can transition nicely into a kid’s room, if need be), new slipcovers for our sofa (which has seen better days), a new throw blanket for the living room chair (because a nice slipcover for the chair was WAY too expensive), and a new silverware tray for the kitchen (nice enough that I can gladly put my grandma’s silverware in it). The “new” towels aren’t really new – my grandmother bought all new towels for her new apartment so she gave us her old ones, which just happen to be close to the color of the bathroom . . .

Oh! The Good Friday service! This year's was not as exciting as last year – no real drama, just lots of readings. The choir sounded horrible because a few people showed up late who hadn’t practiced the songs very much beforehand. Since the choir was smaller than normal, the clunker notes stood out more. Also, we had one song cut at the last minute that we had practiced a lot on, and we were all rather miffed about that. The only moment of drama was at the end. At the front of the church, someone had built a little “cave” or “tomb” out of cardboard and fabric (which looked a lot better than I am making it sound), with a “stone” off to the side. At the end of the service, the pastor put a huge lit candle inside of the little cave, and placed the stone over the opening. At that moment all of the lights were turned off, and everyone was supposed to leave the church in silence. However, when Mr. Random saw that, he came over to me and (whispering, of course) began freaking out to me: “Isn’t that an open flame? Isn’t that thing flammable?” I was kind of annoyed at that point, since the choir stuff had gone kind of crappy, so I just kind of shrugged and said “they must know what they’re doing.” Although, it would be kind of funny in a sick way if the place had burned down because of it – with all of the weird theatrical stuff we try to do, it would just seem fitting that we’d be having Easter services in the ashes of our church . . . I’m just warped that way . . .

Easter service was not quite as annoying. The music we sang was peppy and uplifting, and our Music Director was really rocking out on the piano so I was having a good time. After the service, the church held an Easter Egg hunt for the little kids. Our the Kids in our Sunday School classes range in age from 2 to 12, with most kids being in the 2 to 4 year old range. Mr. Random and I went out to watch and we helped a little by pointing out where random eggs where to the little ones. They were so cute to see! Each child was only supposed to collect 7 eggs, so when each kid had reached their limit, they came up to every adult they could find and yelled, “Miss Kath, I found SEVEN eggs!” “That’s WONDERFUL!” I said with a huge smile. Many of them also wanted to show off the little toys that were in the eggs, so we were being dragged from one basket to another to see the little erasers and balls and toy watches . . .

After the service, we went home and I made a banana pudding to take to my parents’ house for dessert. At my parents’ house we had lots and lots of food. My other sister, J, came home from college and hung out with us a while. I took lots of pictures that I later uploaded and sent on to my other sister, who is now “safely” in Baghdad. I took lots of candid shots around the dinner table so that she would almost feel like she was with us . . .

Monday, I did the cycling class again. I had a lot of trouble adjusting the bike, so the teacher had to stop class to help me. I felt a bit embarrassed for a while, but eventually got into what we were doing. I think I’m getting used to the bicycle seat a bit more, which is a good thing. I’m still a bit sore today, and with the Random Mom-in-law here, I don’t know when I’ll be able to work out again, but I hope soon. We’ll probably be eating out a lot and I can already see myself expanding a bit unless we do some serious walking or something . . .

I hope everyone is doing well . . . just wanted to update you on what’s going on in the Random World. I’ll try to get some pictures up when I can, but the next few days are going to be super hectic. I’m thinking of you all and sending happy vibes out to everyone. Talk to you soon . . .

“It’s Bring Your Personal Demons to Work Day”

Isn’t that every day? (I do love my little New Yorker calendar – it reflects my sad brand of humor so well!)

For some reason I’ve been in a very annoyed mood at the Random Non-profit lately. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m tired and need a long vacation (which is true), if it’s because we are still rehashing the same discussions that we’ve been having for the 5 years I’ve been here (which is true), or if it’s because our workload keeps increasing with no end in sight or with acknowledgement that we are all having a hard time . . .

Layoffs suck. They suck for those laid off and they suck for those left behind. It doesn’t matter how hard you work, how loyal you are or how well you do your job – all that means nothing to the managers when it comes down to dollars and cents. That’s the reality of being in the workforce today and I’m not sure how well all of us are adapting to that reality. I’m trying to, but it is not very easy . . .

I am taking Monday off, but I’ll have to run a few errands and start getting ready for Thursday – that’s when Mr. Random’s Mom will come into town. We have a few things tentatively planned to do while she is here and the weather should be much better than when she was here in August. We will probably take her to the National Cathedral, the Folger Shakespeare Library, and the campus of Mr. Random’s grad school. We are also going to try to find her a few events to go to – luckily DC is a mecca for free lectures and discussions . . .

I just got an e-mail from my sister, who is about to leave Kuwait and head on over to Baghdad. She said she was a bit nervous about the flight into Iraq because of what they’ve been hearing – and they have to fly in wearing all of their armor. Please send as many happy vibes my sister’s way as you can! There is nothing I can do to help besides be encouraging and supportive, I know, but I am not going to be able to sleep well until she is back home – hopefully, just a year from now . . .

Tonight Mr. Random and I are going to the Good Friday service at our church. There won’t be many other choir members there, which petrifies me – I hate being the only person singing my part. I don’t want my voice to stand out, I just want it to blend in with everyone else. I do hope this service is not a repeat of last year’s service when they made everyone walk up, one-by-one, and hammer big long nails into a symbolic log cross. Can you say creepy and sick-sounding? Yes, I get the symbolism, but you know it makes me yearn for the relatively reserved nature of a Catholic mass . . .

I am loving that the weather is back to being cooler – I’m not quite ready to get rid of my sweaters and layers just yet . . .

OK, now that I have shared my personal demons for the day, I hope that everyone has a great weekend. Enjoy some jelly beans, marshmallow chicks, crème eggs and chocolate bunnies on me!

Just Like Riding a Bike

I went to the Y yesterday and took my first cycling/spinning class.

I have always wanted to try biking, but have never been motivated to buy a bike. I’m a coward, you see. I’m afraid of falling and hurting myself. It is not an unnatural fear, since I have no coordination whatsoever – I can trip over my own two feet. I really don’t need to add speed to that equation . . .

I was one of the first people to sign up for that day’s class. When I walked in I told the teacher that I was very new to this. She was tall, really skinny, kind of ex-hippie aged with long stringy brown hair, wearing faded bike shorts and a baggy t-shirt. “Oh, it’s easy!” she says, “Do you ride often?”

“Um, no . . . I haven’t ridden in years.” Actually, I haven’t ridden since I was 13, but why should that stop me? They’re stationary bikes – in theory, I should not fall off and break a body part. Notice I say “in theory” . . .

So she goes about showing me how to adjust all of the little knobs on the bike: one to make the seat go up, one to make the handlebars go up, and one to move the seat forward. Oh, and then there’s the most important knob – the one to change the tension on the wheel to make it easier or harder to pedal.

All of the other people started trickling into the room. It’s a good mix of folks – men and women of all body types. Some look like they’ve been biking forever, some are a bit heavy but are ready to get into it and are pedaling slowly to warm up. This is a good sign of a good class, I think. People aren’t intimidated and all shaped and sizes seem comfortable. Yay!

The class begins. We start pedaling on low resistance. Well, this isn’t too bad. Then we start doing “hills.” Again, not too bad. I am keeping up. The small seat is bothering me, but that’s because I am not used to it. Also, part of the reason that I’m taking the class is that I think my own “seat” is getting a bit big, so I can deal . . .

The class is 45 minutes long. I am sweating up a storm and starting to get very tired. I am still keeping up the pedaling, but not as quickly and with as much resistance. That’s OK – it’s supposed to be at your own pace anyway. My legs almost want to stop working and my feet start slipping out of the little pedal harness things. I start to not be able to tell if the cool air I feel is from the fan or if I am about to pass out. Wait . . . yay! We can stop!

When the class is over, we do a little stretching and I wobble out of the classroom. I’m glad I took the class and I hope to do so again next week. There is another class on Wednesday nights, but I still have commitments for the next few Wednesdays.

I’m so glad I tried this! I’m not as sore as I thought I would be – except in the seat area, which feels like . . . well, this is a family blog, so I won’t burden you with too much information . . .

Having this sense of accomplishment is such a great way to start the week . . . I do hope the rest of the week turns out OK . . .

It's Not an Addiction, I Swear!

As promised, here are all of the books that are stacked up by my bed at the moment. Mind you, these are just the books sitting BY MY BED and not in the living room, den, guest room, and elsewhere in the bedroom that are also begging to be read - such as Mr. Random's major stacks.

When I was younger, I could tear through books in a few days - some in only an evening! - but these days with work and everything going on, my reading output has dwindled to a trickle. I blame the multitudes of interesting blogs for that . . .

Do you all have some interesting books waiting to be read? (and I hope your stacks aren't as big as mine . . .)