NEW YORK, Feb 24, 2006 (UPI via COMTEX) -- Bruce Hart, whose "Sesame Street" lyrics are known to generations of TV viewers, has died of lung cancer in New York at age 68. In addition to providing the famous question, "Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street," Hart and his wife, Carole, were writers for the first season of the PBS children's show.Hart went on to write the lyrics for Marlo Thomas' album and TV special, "Free to Be ... You and Me"

His survivors include his wife and a brother.

I think a lot of people misunderstand my position on children. I actually really like kids. Not babies as much because I don't know how to relate to them--which I think is probably a good thing, I mean, an adult shouldn't be able to relate to a baby, right? But I actually like kids. I used to have so much fun working as a teacher's aide and being a camp counselor. I willingly chose to work in the Children's Dept at Barnes and Noble--even with all the kids pooping on the floor and the yuppie customers who harassed me--because I liked being able to help adults choose great books for kids to read (who wants to read Johnny Tremain anyway, I mean really). I love helping children discover their creativity, and right now I love teaching freshmen how to think for themselves. Someday, I think it would be awesome to open a children's book store.

I want to be like Bruce Hart when I grow up. He did all these great things, but he didn't have to have kids in order do things for them. I respect that so much.

Labels: cfbc, childfree by choice, childhood, news, television

( 2comments )

at February 28, 2006 6:28 PM  Lorie said...

When you call people who have children "breeders," it does sound fairly anti-children. I imagine that's the accepted term in child-free-by-choice circles, but it comes across as kind of condescending to me.

 

at February 28, 2006 6:56 PM  Samantha said...

According to Wikipedia entry on Childfree Slang:

Breeder: Generally, someone who has, or intends to have, children. Is often used in a more specific sense to refer to obnoxious parents (in contrast with "parent", below). This is also gay slang for a heterosexual person.

Parent: One with children who behaves in a non-obnoxious manner regarding their children, and who is considered to have brought up those children well. (Some Childfree persons do not make the distinction between this and "breeder", above.)

I do happen to make the distinction. In my mind, there is a distinct difference between a breeder and a parent. I think an extra defining characteristic, though, of breeders should be people who do not think about or realize that they have a choice in having children. Because most people seem to think that it's their duty (religious or otherwise) to procreate. Furthermore, they tend to thrust this way of thinking upon others without children in a strange passive-aggressive form of bullying.

I happen to think my sister-in-law and my new brother-in-law will be parents--not breeders. Doesn't mean that I'm not a little sad that we don't get to spend more time with them just as a couple of couples, though.

 

I patrol some Childfree By Choice forums and someone posted this e-mail she received from a neighbor. The response has been hilarious, granted, probably only hilarious if you're CFBC. My comments are going to be the ones in the italics. Anyone who cares to join me in a group barf is free to do so. The reason why I chose to post this e-mail is because I encourage all those who are on the fence to read it. If, after reading it, you think this list sounds super (try to not let my comments sway you in that case) then maybe you should have kids. But I have to say, a lot of these "wonderful moments" don't seem that wonderful to me, not to mention that the truly great moments can be had without children.

So without further adieu. Here's the post:

I received this email from my neighbor, who is always trying to get me to join her on the motherhood train. The message annoyed me because all it does is break down the "kodak moments" and gloss the rest over and by golly "your kids will grow up to love you!" And fails to mention much about the teenage years. Here goes...... (poster was sassmuffin)

>>>>>>>Cost of a Child I have chosen not to comment on this part because I think it speaks for itself...

The government recently calculated the cost of raising a child from birth to 18 and came up with $160,140 for a middle income family. Talk about sticker shock! That doesn't even touch college tuition. But $160,140 isn't so bad if you break it down. It translates into:

~ $8,896.66 a year,

~ $741.38 a month, or

~ $171.08 a week

~ That's a mere $24.24 a day!

Just over a dollar an hour.

Still, you might think the best financial advice is don't have children if you want to be "rich." Actually, it is just the opposite.

What do you get for your $160,140? Here's where I'm gonna let the comments rip.

~ Naming rights. First, middle, and last! I get that with my cat. I got that with our fish, when we had fish. And no, Zhoul doesn't have a middle name, because I think middle names are stupid. Also, I can name my cat Zhoul because she doesn't have to put that on a business card that her name is Peaches Honeyblossom or Apple or Prince Michael Jackson. I would also like to state for the record that this is not a compelling reason to have kids. I get that this is supposed to be "ironic" or "kitschy" but it's really just annoying because I've met people who think this way for real.

~ Glimpses of God every day. More likely Satan. Have you been around a baby who can't stop crying? If that's a glimpse of God, then that must be the Old Testament deity.

~ Giggles under the covers every night. B gives me that, and might I say, a lot more.

~ More love than your heart can hold. I feel like my life is overbrimming with love. I lucked out. I adore my husband. We're still sweet and romantic with each other, even though we've been married nearly 4 years. I adore my family. I happen to have some pretty wonderful friends who make the effort to still be in our lives even though we're 2600 miles away. And the people in my Ph.D. program, at least the creative writing portion, have been fantastic and supportive. Why would I need a child? I feel offended by people who think that you can only truly know love if you have a kid. I feel love and know love every day.

~ Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs. Gag. I hate butterfly kisses.

~ Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies. Excuse me? I am fascinated by these things on my own. Even B joins me in this.

~ A hand to hold, usually covered with jelly or chocolate. Ew! Is this supposed to be a good thing?!

~ A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites, building sand castles, and skipping down the sidewalk in the pouring rain. Honestly, who needs a partner to do these things? These things are fun solo, too. I happen to have done each of these with B, though. But even before I knew him, I made a habit of these things. I remember when I went to community college, it was on a hill and it'd get windy--perfect for kite flying--so I did. I started a trend. After a few days, there were people I didn't even know flying kites.

~ Someone to laugh yourself silly with, no matter what the boss said or how your stocks performed that day. Lorie does this to me even though we only talk over ICQ. And I get this with my brothers. And best of all, B and I have actually fallen off the couch laughing.

For $160,140, you never have to grow up. You get to:

~ finger-paint, carve pumpkins, play hide-and-seek, catch lightning bugs, never stop believing in Santa Claus. I'd like to state that a kid is not required. Not only can we do these things on our own--we should do these. Why do we have to have an excuse? (And why does that excuse have to be a child?)

You have an excuse to:

~ keep reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh, watching Saturday morning cartoons, going to Disney movies, and wishing on stars. Again, why do you need an excuse? I do these things, and proudly, right now. I just downloaded Alice in Wonderland to my MP3 player. I love books that are considered "Children's Literature" like The Series of Unfortunate Events and The Enchanted Forest Chronicles. I happen to sing "I'm just a little black raincloud. Hovering over the the honey tree. I'm just a little black raincloud. Pay no attention to me. Everyone knows that a raincloud. Never eats honey, no not a nip. Just over the ground, hoverin' around, wondering where I will drop" song from Winnie The Pooh frequently. I saw Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire when it came out. I used to get up early on Saturday mornings to watch X-Men (that was last year, but then they took it off the air again). And I always wish on stars. Might I add that ALL of these things are way cheaper without children?

~ You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's Day. For one, I loathe backwards letters. I have since I was a kid and noticed the backwards R in Toys 'R' Us. Furthermore, I remember making a stupid heart vase thing for my mom in fourth grade that was hideous. So this is a plus? I think parents only display them to make the kids feel better. Nobody really likes them, do they?

You get to be a hero just for:

~ retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof, taking the training wheels off a bike, removing a splinter, filling a wading pool, coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless I honestly don't remember ever being grateful or seeing my parents as a hero when they got the ball off the roof, because they yelled at me for having thrown it up there in the first place. I hated my father because he purposely dug further than he needed to when removing splinters with a needle. I remember being really angry at my mom for cutting the gum my brother put in my hair, because she was supposed to be able to get it out, she was a mom. See how deluded I was a child? I was horrid. I was horrid because I was a child and not old enough to appreciate these things. I wonder if buying an entire loser baseball team ice cream is part of the $160,140 price tag. Joy.

You get to be immortal. Uh. No. You're still gonna die. Who thinks this? I am just glad that I am smart enough to know that nothing is going to make me immortal.

You get another branch added to your family tree, and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary called grandchildren and great grandchildren. Again, why is this a reason to have children? I don't get it. I think if I died tomorrow, plenty of people would mourn me. Isn't that enough?

You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal justice, communications, and human sexuality that no college can match. In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there under God. Okay, so yes, I did equate my parents to God, but that's because they were the dictators of my life. And please. The "education" is bullshit.

You have all the power to heal a boo-boo, scare away the monsters under the bed, patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them forever, and love them without limits, so one day they will, like you, love without counting the cost. Uh. Why are these things to look forward to? I never want to endure another slumber party again because the last slumber party I went to when I was 13 wasn't policed and the girls all ended up playing a naked game of Truth or Dare and then threw pinecones at my head the next day for not joining in. Children are evil.

Yep, this is a great email. If you're on the fence and this is presented as the BEST parts of parenting and you AGREE, then have kids. Because none of it sounds good to me, even w/out the price tag!

Ditto.

Another poster by the name of Laura (not Princess Blogonoke) responded with this:

Notice that they don't mention never being able to sleep late again in your life, filthy and smelly diapers, potty training, sticky fingers all over your nice furniture (until your nice furniture turns crappy), minivans with crushed Cheerios all over the floor, having no privacy, shrieking tantrums, a kid who does drugs, gets pregnant at the age of 13, gets thrown out of school, or is otherwise a juvenile delinquent. And--let's be realistic--what about special needs children? I'm not advocating some sort of Super Race or anything, but a child with special needs is a lot of work and very expensive to raise. Not to mention all the heartache and extra worry. I for one could not handle it. All of that is conveniently left out of this.

Oh, and not to mention how pregnancy can destroy a woman's body. At the very least, a woman's body permanently changes (wider hips, etc.). Miracle? Whatever. I cannot imagine much of anything that is more humiliating than lying spread eagle for all the world to stick their hand inside me while I'm suffering incredible pain for 12+ hours.

I have to agree. But on a more serious note, since a lot of my comments are sarcastic, I want to say that there is something that disturbed me fundamentally about this e-mail. I felt like the e-mail implied that if you don't do these things with your kids, and you don't value their little things and dedicate your entire life to your children, then that makes you a bad parent. Now, I might just be over-analyzing, and reading into things that aren't there. But I feel like you can still be a good parent even if you'd rather sleep in on Saturday rather than watching the kid's dumb cartoons (because the Saturday morning lineup ain't what it used to be folks...).

I just feel like I am sufficiently in touch with my inner child, and I can (and do) experience most of that stuff without the "excuse" of having a child. It actually saddens me that some people need such an excuse.

Labels: cfbc, childfree by choice, children, parenthood, the children question

( 6comments )

at February 18, 2006 1:49 AM  Lorie said...

"But I feel like you can still be a good parent even if you'd rather sleep in on Saturday rather than watching the kid's dumb cartoons (because the Saturday morning lineup ain't what it used to be folks...)."

I've never entirely understood the whole "get up early because the kids are getting up" thing. I'd stay up and watch Johnny Carson with my mom and then sleep until 10 or so in the morning because I was in afternoon kindergarten. I would be slightly disappointed when there were cartoons on at 8 a.m. on Saturday that sounded good, but I certainly wasn't getting up early for them. That's probably not normal, is it?

 

at February 18, 2006 10:21 AM  Samantha said...

Actually, from my experience, that does seem normal. B was the exact same way. He wasn't an early morning kid either.

 

at February 18, 2006 3:27 PM  Alex_Knight said...

One of the guys I work with. Nicest guy you could ever meet. Never had kids. Never once said he wanted them, neither he nor his wife. (Mind you, he's 58 now.) Doesn't even seem like he's unhappy about it. He has nieces and nephews, and he says that's good enough for him. Just as it'll be good enough for me.

 

at February 18, 2006 4:47 PM  Samantha said...

Yeah, my sister-in-law is working on a niece or a nephew for us right now. It's actually kind of sad that we don't live in Michigan because I would like to be part of that child's life. I just don't think I want one of my own.

 

at February 20, 2006 10:33 PM  Anonymous said...

What is wrong with you people? Don't you realize that childbearing is:
A) Your civic duty - Statistics show that a society with a growing population is more productive and hence can create more weapons with which to destroy other societies.
B) A moral imperative - If only stupid people have kids, then ummm... wait. Never mind.
C) A religious mandate - Go forth and multiply! All you single cell organisms, stop dividing! It's a good thing God wasn't taking calculus, or the order might have been to integrate.

As you can see there are numerous (three) reasons why you should have kids. What's this world coming to? Stop thinking for yourself. It only leads to anarchy.

 

at February 27, 2006 5:24 PM  Samantha said...

Well I'm sold! ;)

I think I like this Anonymous person...

 

Michael Morales is sentenced to the death by legal injection on February 21, 2006. However, there has been a ruling that the current mix of chemicals used in the legal injection constitutues cruel and unusual punishment. Apparently Morales and his attorney petitioned California to administer an anesthetic to render him unconscious before the lethal injection.

[U.S. District Judge Jeremey] Fogel, who said he is troubled by the prospect that inmates may be conscious and undergoing extreme pain once a paralyzing agent and then a heart-stopping drug are administered during executions, ordered the state to either have an expert present to ensure that Morales is unconscious from the sedative or to replace the state's three-drug execution mix with a single lethal dose of a barbiturate. The ruling gave the state until the end of Wednesday (Feb. 15) to choose an expert, or until Thursday to choose the single-drug method.

Then 21-year-old Michael Morales murdered then 17-year-old Terri Winchell. He first tried to hang her. She didn't die. So he stabbed her 17 times. She still wasn't dead. So he raped her. And then he beat the back of her head with the claw-part of a hammer. The sequence of her death, from as far as I can tell, is unclear. The sequence I relate to you was what I heard on 97.1 FREE FM on the Frosty, Heidi and Frank show. But the SFGate.com has a slightly different take:

Morales, 46, of Stockton, was convicted of raping and murdering 17-year-old Terri Winchell in January 1981. She was choked from behind as she sat in a car, then beaten on the head with a hammer and stabbed with a knife. In Monday's filing, Schultz said Morales raped her as she lay dying from the hammer blows, then stabbed her to make sure she was killed.

I mean so what? Morales experiences 10 seconds of a violent burning sensation in his veins. He freakin' hammered a girl's head. Now I ask you: Should a man, who murdered a 17-year-old girl in such a cruel and unusual way, be allowed to die peacefully?

Labels: death penalty, news

( 6comments )

at February 16, 2006 1:30 PM  Jack's Shack said...

It is a good question. In theory we shouldn't spend a lot of time worrying about the feelings of people like him.

OTOH the way we treat all people says a lot about who we are.

 

at February 16, 2006 6:29 PM  Samantha said...

It's not like we were gonna hammer his head in while we raped him, though. I feel like he should have to experience the same lethal injection pain that every other felon has experienced--especially because of the way he murdered his victim.

 

at February 17, 2006 6:08 PM  Alex_Knight said...

Fuck that lethal injection crap. Rope + Knot = Quick and easy.

 

at February 17, 2006 6:39 PM  Samantha said...

I know, right? But *that* would fall under the cruel and unusual punishment category. Unfortunately.

You forgot to add "cheap" to your equation. Which, personally, is something I'm in favor of.

 

at February 18, 2006 3:17 PM  Alex_Knight said...

I personally think that once you've violated another person's rights that badly, you are no longer subject to human rights anymore. At that point, you are no longer human. You are a monster, an aberration.

 

at February 18, 2006 4:59 PM  Samantha said...

There might be something said for not treating the monsters the way they treated their victims. But it still pisses me off. Sometimes I think maybe just give the victim's family a bunch of shotguns and let them go a-huntin'. Give the murderer a five second head start. "One Mississippi. Two Mississippi..." Again, considered cruel and unusual, though, because you just know you wouldn't kill the guy. You'd blow the guy's toes and balls and knees off first. Make him feel some pain before the final shot to the face.

Or ya know... inflicting the same amount damage on the criminal that they inflicted on the victim. Oh, you raped a little girl? Okay, now meet Bubba. He's gonna rape you. With a cactus. Or you hammered that girl's head in? Well, that's what we're gonna do to you. See, I think I like this plan, because then they get to experience what they made someone else experience. So how can it be cruel and unusual punishment if they did it to someone else?

 

I haven't told anyone this yet, but: I have become a vegetarian.

I decided not to say anything to anyone (except of course B who has had to help me pick out vegetarian appropriate foods the last few weeks) because I needed to see if I could actually go through with it and be consistent.

And so far, so good.

I wrote a short-short about how my mother used to slaughter rabbits for a living when I was a kid... and after that I just couldn't eat meat anymore.

I gotta say, I haven't miss meat yet. Okay, that's a lie. We were supposed to make turkey breast the day after I told B I couldn't eat meat anymore. And I came home ravenous for turkey, mashed potatoes and corn and green bean casserole. I really was looking forward to the turkey breast. But B kept me honest and didn't let me cook it up. In fact, he had put it back in the freezer.

I keep having these nightmares about all the animals we slaughtered when we lived in Northern California. I think this is my way of repenting.

Labels: childhood, real life

( 4comments )

at February 14, 2006 6:48 PM  Gungy said...

Hey now, you told me before! That's because I'm special.

 

at February 14, 2006 8:47 PM  Samantha said...

That's true, but that's because I wanted to tell you about the spiritual implications that I've experienced so far while not eating meat.

 

at February 16, 2006 10:02 PM  Princess Blogonoke said...

Neato! What kind of vegetarian? Eggs? No eggs? Cheese? Fish? Shrimp? Leather shoes?

 

at February 16, 2006 11:58 PM  Samantha said...

I'm not a vegan. From what I understand they don't eat eggs, fish or any dairy and are against leather products. I just a regular avoiding eating things with faces. Except shrimp. I am eating shrimp. So far I haven't had the opportunity to eat fish because I can't cook it without gagging. If it's at a restaurant, that's usually a different story. But yeah, eggs. I have a really good recipe for some spicy egg wedges that are really light and fluffy. Lots of cheese, too. And as for leather, well, I still use leather products. But at least I'm getting good use out of them. I guess as long as I'm not eating meat, then the spiritual implications are still okay. Heh.

 

There comes a point when breast is not best
(Filed: 03/02/2006)
Alison Palmer

When my children were born, there was never any doubt in my mind that I would breastfeed. But there was also never any doubt that I would not feed them past a year. It had nothing to do with teeth - after all, they start coming through as early as four months - but somehow the thought of having a toddler attached to my chest made me feel a bit squeamish.

The WHO recommends that mothers breastfeed babies up to the age of six months
In the end, I fed both Emily and Max on demand for about four months, then just in the morning and at bedtime until Emily was nine months and Max, six months. Both stopped of their own volition, gradually refusing the breast, replete on pureed fruit and vegetables, water and cows' milk.

So it goes without saying that I, like probably thousands of others, watched Wednesday night's Extraordinary Breastfeeding on Channel 4 through slightly parted fingers. The sight of 38-year-old Sophie Pritchard trying to wean twins Molly and Zac whom she had allowed to feed in tandem up to 20 (yes, 20) times a day for well over two years was distressing enough.

Then we met Veronica Robinson and what can only be described as her breast-obsessed children, Eliza and Bethany. At seven, Eliza was still breastfeeding even though she was naturally losing the ability to suckle a nipple and sometimes did not manage to get milk. Ten-year-old Bethany had stopped feeding at a mere five years old but talked about it fondly.

These children discussed breasts, drew pictures of breasts, admonished their mother for "trapping" them in her bra... I could only think of my own seven- and eight-year-old asking me for "milkio", a la Eliza, and squirm.

I can't even bring myself to consider Mr Robinson. "It's quite normal in an extended breastfeeding family to have baby on one side and dad on the other... got to keep everyone happy," Veronica chirruped.

The women talked about extended breastfeeding as protection against cancer, comforting for the child and nutritionally advantageous, but one could argue that regular mammograms, lots of cuddles and five portions of fruit and vegetables a day have the same benefits.

Even the World Health Organisation recommends that mothers, be they in an impoverished African village or a London suburb, breastfeed children exclusively only up to the age of six months, and up to the age of two as part of a mixed diet.

Why would any mother continue past that? Parenting psychologist Dr Elizabeth Mapstone says it could be because she doesn't want her baby to grow up and still wants to feel needed.

"Many, especially those who know that they've had their last baby, struggle to come to terms with their baby becoming a child and not relying on them any more. They don't like feeling they are no longer a physical necessity in their child's life, that their child can survive without them," she explains.

"And it's fair to say some women feel greater pleasure breastfeeding than having their breasts fondled by their partner. It's difficult to equate it to a sexual feeling but there is a deep physical feeling which comes with it."

Mapstone is concerned about how extended breastfeeding affects a child's development. "At two, children naturally start to learn they're a separate being to their mother so to do something which bonds them to you in such a physical way may inhibit that."

I love to see a woman breastfeeding her baby whenever and wherever, just as God intended. But the operative word is "baby". Surely I'm not wrong to feel slightly repulsed by a woman being suckled by a child who can walk, talk and, in some cases, tie her own shoelaces?

"You're not wrong," Mapstone says. "There is something that feels very wrong about seeing a child walk up to its mother and demand the breast and get it. There's an instinctive knowledge in most of us that an older child should not be allowed to do that."

I can't help but feel that this programme did the pro-breastfeeding lobby more harm than good. It turned a beautiful natural act into something which was, quite frankly, weird.

This part truly grossed me out: "...It's quite normal in an extended breastfeeding family to have baby on one side and dad on the other... got to keep everyone happy," Veronica chirruped.

Is there a bizarro world of which I am unaware? Like the one Jerry Seinfeld is always talking about that exists in Superman? How could a husband man be okay with with the fact that while he's trying to get some from his wife on one boob, she's BREASTFEEDING their child with the other? Ew! And I'm not talking baby here. I'm talkin' about a walkin' around, shoelace tyin' C-H-I-L-D! Ew! Ew! Ew!

Seriously, it's bad enough that the moos breastfeed their stupid babies in public, but if I see a woman breastfeeding a freakin' five year old, I'm seriously going to puke.

Labels: children, parenthood, pregnancy

( 1comments )

at February 11, 2006 7:34 PM  Alex_Knight said...

I wanna' know how they let their mom know they want a breast of milk? "Mom, whip that thing out, I'm thirsty."

 

It's nice to hear about the truly great celebrities every once in a while.

Bill Nye the Science Guy got married! (Click on his name for an awesome sound bite.)

Congratulations Bill!

For the full story, Click here.

Labels: news, television

( 1comments )

at February 8, 2006 10:21 PM  Lorie said...

I had to show a Bill Nye video in a middle school science class once when I was subbing. I think I enjoyed it more than the kids did.

 

Why do I think in strange paragraphs? Where did this evolve from? Is it from too many years of writing blog entries? Paragraphs aren't paragraphs separated by a single carriage return and an indented first time with the tab key. Paragraphs are neat and tidy rectangles. Evenly spaced. Like bits of information in the binary of my mind. Zhoul is not in her chair. She is not sleeping. I am not sleeping. But Brad is. He is beautiful and calm when he is sleeping. I am not beautiful and calm when I am sleeping, and it's a shame really, because sleep should be the one place where a girl can feel safe.

I have written a page without double-spacing. I am impressed. I don't think I have achieved this yet. But I don't want to stop. I had nothing else to say about Charlotte, but I felt like typing. Like I wanted to keep typing. I love the clickity click sound of the keys. I type quickly, and I love the way my fingers look dancing and hovering over the keyboard. I can close my eyes and still type perfectly. I wrote that last sentence with my eyes closed. Typing is the one place where I am graceful. My fingers know exactly where to go, They have been trained and strengthened like a dancer. My fingers are long and lean from playing the flute instead of the saxophone. The only time I make a mistake if when I forget how to spell certain words, or when I forget certain letters. Sometimes my fingers are faster than my actual brain. Isn't it lovely how I can think of a word and instantly see it in my mind, spell it and type it and it appears on the screen? I am a magician. I'm better than a magician, because magicians are all about trickery. Slight of hand. But my typing is not like slight of hand at all. My typing is magical, like real magic. Like wizards and elves and shoemakers.

Labels: writing

( 0comments )

I need to give myself the freedom to NOT be brilliant. I need to get over myself. I need to stop being so critical of myself. I need to just write. I need to give myself freedom. I am imprisoning myself. If I keep myself caged for much longer, then I will suffocate and die.

Remember: A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.

A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.

A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.

A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.

A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.

I typed that last one with my eyes closed. If I can do that without messing up, then I can do anything?

Faerie Oracle Reading For Today: The Soul Shrinker, The Galconer and Death--yeah, I really need to re-tool my self-esteem and just allow myself to be.

Labels: writing

( 0comments )

It's February already?

I don't know why, but teaching this week has been harder than usual. For starters, the class as a whole is on the quiet side, which is understandable because 1/3 of them are ESL students. But seriously, getting any kind of response outta them this week has been harder than trying touch Zhoul's toes. Zhoul is infamously protective of her toeses and will growl, bite and scratch you (in that order) if you come anywhere near her little chubby foot pads. It's a shame really, because I do so love her kitty toes.

I almost just want to cancel Friday so I don't have to deal with them. I do have at least 5 class sessions that I can cancel at my discretion due to conferences--I have to meet with each student individually 5 times over the course of the semester, because of this, I am allowed to cancel one class for each conferencing day.

I was waiting to use my class cancellations until my sister-in-law's wedding later this month, just to make sure I could take time off (by cancelling the class I teach on Wednesday and Friday). But now we're only going to be in Michigan for two days since (at the time we booked the tickets) Brad thought that he was only getting Friday, Saturday and Sunday off. Now, it turns out, he is getting a lot more time off than we anticipated, and it's way too expensive to switch the tickets.

But I do have a meeting on Friday at 10:30 a.m., so I'd have to be on campus anyway. I guess I could just cancel next Monday's class instead.

Labels: grad school, teaching

( 1comments )

at February 1, 2006 7:31 PM  Samantha said...

This is kinda sad that I'm commenting on my own post, but I went ahead and did it. I cancelled class on Friday. I just can't deal with them right now.