Out and about

My grandma asks, somewhat unrhetorically, how people know how to behave, how to make choices, how to distinguish between right or wrong, without some belief system that involves a higher power. "What's the point," she asks, "if you're not living your life for the Lord?"

I certainly don't claim to know the answer to that question. But there is a point... there has to be. Non-belief takes as much a leap of faith as belief does, and I'm not arrogant (or brave?) enough to make either claim. But I know, regardless of the answer, each of us has a responsibility to ourselves and to the society in which we live to behave a certain way. To make certain choices. To distinguish between right and wrong.

I think it's a little harder, though, to figure things out.

Not much to see here...

I'm not a nap person. I don't sleep during the middle of the day. No matter how tired or how little sleep I got the previous night, I hang on until it's decidely dark outside. Until recently, that is. 

Friday mornings I teach. It's become a ritual these past few weeks to finish at school, have lunch, check email, news, etc, read, and then take a nap. By the time I wake back up, one or two hours later, it's late afternoon and (after putting on a pot of coffee) I'm refreshed and ready to go out (or, not go out, whatever the case may be).  

Today I finished Coetzee's "Disgrace." It's an author I only recently discovered and look forward to reading more of his works. Next is "Elizabeth Costello."

"So there's this old lady..."

This phrase used to signal a brainstorming session. Throw out character ideas, plots, crazy scenarios. The old lady turned into Theresa Merchant - she was widowed and lived in Cincinnati and played bridge. She was tricked into letting her pal "Henry" stay with her. He reminded her of her late husband and, supposedly, shared the same name. Eventually Theresa figured out the truth but instead of kicking him out or calling him on it, she just took the upper hand.

Today I discussed Ibsen's "A Doll House"; last week was "The Glass Menagerie." Just when I'm thinking that women have come a long way since 1879 and 1946, I come across something like this report in the NYtimes about an NGO in South Africa's reports on the rise of "corrective rape" to "cure" lesbians. I'm midway through Coetzee's "Disgrace," and I think something like this has happened in the plot.

Ma Vie en Rose

Restlessness manifests itself in different ways, some more constructive than others. This time, it was an impulsive purchase of round-trip tickets to Australia. I won't go until October, but I'm psyched. And knowing that I have this huge expense looming on my credit card will force me to be more sober and practical these next few months (i.e. fewer self-indulgent complaints).

Next month, Paris! I have my travel books, and I'm going to watch "La Vie en Rose" in preparation.

Good, good day

Today's St. Patrick's Day, and my freckles and pale skin tell me I must have some Irish in me.  

Slowly but surely, I'm getting back to running. Unfortunately my shoes seem to be 1/2 size too small, as judged by the smattering of blood inside the right heel. Ew.  

Anyway, I'm procrastinating. Again. We're discussing the play "Fences" tomorrow as well as the first few scenes from "The Glass Menagerie." I'm trying to come up with some provocative questions regarding both works.

Laundry day

When my grandmother's stressed, she dreams of the lab. My grandmother worked at a male-dominated lab for years. While her coworkers had more degrees and thus higher salaries, my grandmother worked hard and did well. She was treated very badly and given little respect. It wasn't until she retired that they told her how valuable she was to them and the lab. She told me later how much it would have meant to her if they'd said that to her while she worked there. 

In her dreams, she returns to that environment, working hard, not being appreciated. 

My grandmother tells me her stories when I visit each week, and I'm grateful for them. Her dignity, strength, and resilience inspire me. 

Annoyingly Vague Restlessness:

It's what shows up before I hole up in a room, or change majors, or quit jobs, or break up with boyfriends (hey b!), or write self-involved blog entries.

(you know, as opposed to all those other non self-involved entries).