Reason Breeds Insanity

I have so much to do this weekend, I assume that I will not see the outdoors until Monday on my way to class. I still need to get my shit together to get my PCM paper written, and I need to get it done by Monday because I need some space from it in order to really edit it well. I think I am going to do a combination of my Victorian literature class, the theory of the the grotesque/carnivalesque and the body, and how my grandma was in the hospital this time. I am not sure how it will turn out, but I want to say something about people in hospital beds are on display, etc. This may turn into a freak show, I don’t know.
I also have to grade my students first assignment. I am a bit nervous about this whole process. I want my students to feel comfortable with me for the rest of the semester, and grades are really subjective, but I also want them to know this class is for real. For the most part, though, their essays were really good, and I can only think of two of them that were even B- quality. The rest were above that.
Today seems like one of those days when I can’t quite focus on anything, so I think I will read my Renaissance stuff this afternoon because I am guessing I won’t get it no matter what. I am looking forward to going out tonight and relaxing. It’s my friend Sarah’s birthday and we are going to dinner before we go to her party. I think I’ll have a nice glass of wine with dinner.

I neglected to outline my amazing experience from my trip to school this morning. I decided that since it wasn’t really cold outside, I would walk downtown to get a cup of coffee then catch the bus and come to school. I went to the Blue Bottle. I waited in line behind a woman who complained the whole time about the Muncie Mardi Gras. She said, “Why can’t we park down here today if the stupid thing isn’t until tomorrow?” I wanted to say, “Do you think they might need to set-up for it?” I mean just a thought. The girls at the coffee shop were so into talking with her, that I knew my drink wouldn’t be right. I ordered the same thing I always order: a double-short-no-foam-soy-latte. What I got was double, incredibly short, and covered in about an inch of soy-foam. For those of you who are soy latte drinkers, you know that soy foam is really gross. It makes your mouth feel funny, and tastes a bit like plastic. So, I just poured it into another cup (my own cup, which I forgot to give to them) and tried to keep the foam in the paper cup. I ended up with about 8 ounces of latte. Then, oh it gets better, I was walking to the bus station and a car turned into the parking lot in front of me a splashed brown, icy, slush onto me. I didn’t have time to go home to change, I had a shitte instead of a latte, and my sock was wet. Basically, the beginning of the day really sucked. However, class went well and the final photo essays were great, so it got better. And I am not bitter that some people can’t make good lattes, and I am not bitter that some people never have to walk anywhere so they don’t understand the concept of splashing pedestrians. Bastards.

Last night I fell asleep on the couch right after South Park. I was tired. It was eleven o’clock. What can I say? I woke up this morning at 6:09 wondering where the hell I was because I was definitely not in my bed. This would be funny if it only happened every once in a while, but my waking on the couch and briefly wondering where I am is a fairly regular occurrence. After I got over the initial shock and awe of finding myself on the couch—again—I looked at the clock and decided to move myself upstairs to the bed for the remaining half-hour of sleeping time. However, once I got upstairs, I found that I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I got the bright idea that I would try meditating while laying there. Not a good idea. First, I had problems figuring out my breathing, then I felt like I was drowning, then Bec made some weird noise and startled me. I decided to just lay there staring at the ceiling, so I checked the clock. I had actually meditated for longer than I usually do, and I woke up feeling incredibly refreshed. “I felt fine and refreshed in every way,” as my friend’s mom’s relaxation tape used to say, “Feeling fine and refreshed in every way.” I got up at 7 o’clock and walked the dogs, and I feel great. Apparently, I need to open my mind to the possibility that I can relax and destress in several different ways. My only complaint is that I didn’t get to “listen in a very natural way to the pleasing sounds of the sanskrit melody.” That and I lost an hour of good sleep. Damn.

Oh, I don’t really say “om” either.

Sometimes I wish we could turn people inside out. We walk around this world with so much baggage, so much history, tightly wrapped around ourselves that it is difficult to tell who we really are. I want to turn people inside out, so I can get to the tenderness inside them. I want to know people without the shell. You know how when you get fruit salad at an expensive restaurant, they take the membranes off the orange sections. The oranges are a little bit floppier, and they fall apart easily, but you get right to the sweetness of them without having to gag and chew your way through the tough outer part. People should be like oranges in high-society fruit salad. I am tired of gagging and chewing my way through people’s membranes. I want my soul to be able to access your soul without all of the dancing around and digging through years of baggage. Sometimes I feel like I spend most of my time rummaging through the past to get to the present. It’s like spending your entire day going through the things in your grandmother’s attic, only to find, way back in the corner the comic book you bought that morning. It isn’t that I don’t think history is important. I do. I just want to be able to see the person first, and learn their history later. Our knowledge of history taints our view of the world, and I am sure that it has cost each of us more than one friend, whose history or baggage was just too thick to chew through. Today, I hope I can treasure the comic book I bought this morning even though I had to dig through years of crap to find it. I want to get at the heart of people in a real way, and I want them to be able to get at mine. I am not sure this makes sense, but I have been thinking a bit lately about how we camouflage ourselves with junk that we pull around ourselves like hard shells and keep the good stuff, the tender stuff, hidden.

Today was a good example of life passing me by. I complain. Too much. About insignificant inconveniences. One of my friends is having some custody issues, and I complain because my freshman can’t use Blackboard. Well, they can now. Maybe they could before. Probably they could before. Grace. Tonight I had the experience of spending time with one of my best friends, and it never fails that we don’t get to spend a large amount of time talking in the way I would like, the way I plan, and the way my soul needs. I mean I need to get deep and philosophical and real with someone, but we always end up having interesting experiences. Tonight, no exception. A guy named Wes joined us for a bit at the MTCup. Interesting guy. Claims he is Buddhist, but he eats meat. Are all Buddhists vegetarian? I thought so, but I guess I need to research. He asked Sarah and I what our religious affiliations are. We sort of just looked at each other, because we both know what images the truth brings up. We are both Christians. He asked if we were real Christians, so I said we both try, and we both sort of looked blankly at each other. We do try. But I complain too much. And there is that grace.

EDIT:
Stuff from my other, old, defunct blog. ‘m hungry. When my mornings don’t go as I wish they would, I forget to pack my lunch and a banana and an apple aren’t so good at keeping the rumbling at bay for long. I ate my only “meal” at 8 o’clock this morning. Twelve hours ago. I had a bagel with some hummus and a soy latte at about 7 o’clock tonight, but when you are a fat kid, two meals isn’t enough. I do have to say that an interesting side effect of being vegan, and not trying to lose weight, is losing weight.

I gave away the last of the zucchini, banana, raisin cookies today. Not surprisingly, my students weren’t thrilled with them. I think for Friday, I will make some good old fashioned chocolate chip cookies, but I am having a hard time finding chocolate chips anywhere around here. My only choice is the peanut-ridden carob chips at White Feather Farms. Maybe the chocolate chip cookies will have to wait until I can make a trip to Indy to get them at Wild Oats or Trader Joe’s. I mean I could order them online, but then I risk having them stolen off the porch, or worse. They could melt during shipping, and then I would just be pissed.

On a funnier food note, the other day Becky laughed at me because I made a pizza that I thought was so beautiful, I took a picture of it. It had sauce, then fake cheese, then banana peppers, then mushrooms, then mandarin oranges, and finally, Boca spicy chicken bits. I have say that it tasted as beautiful as it looked. And so healthy! The only thing it needed was some spinach or tomatoes! And for desert I had some amazing Tofutti strawberry wave ice-cream sandwiches. Tasty eatin’!