Underwhelming and necessary

Really happy about the mellow weekend. Turned off the phone, snuggled with my new blanket, and forced myself into not being such a grump. It's starting to work.

Talked on the phone for a very long time to Julie. I think she gets it. I need to think that someone gets it.

Something amazing is on the horizon. That isn't wishful thinking. There will be more about it later, either way.

I am done with Jackson State on December 5th. What am I supposed to do for a whole month? After our long talk, Julie and I decided that a trip down to see her is in order. I cannot wait! I really want this to work out!

Graduation is December 13th with a family thing the night before. Hopefully a few friends can make the cut. It really isn't up to me. That is actually my mother's call. She's footing the bill, so she gets to approve the guest list.

All weekend I made myself work out. I kept waiting for that sweet release of endorphins that are always being tauted as some kind of natural high. That didn't really happen. I did, however, decide that watching season 2 of Grey's Anatomy while on the eliptical makes for a surprisingly productive and surrepticiously lengthy workout. I am a master of self-deception.

Women these days

Finding time to read these days! Picked up a book I bought back in March, but never cracked the cover. If you don't love Chuck Klosterman, that's cool. He has infected the way I write from time to time (probably right now), and he more than successfully gets into the way I think.

Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs is just a collection of his seemingly random thoughts about culture and its influence and media and such and the things he usually writes about in his works. Last night I was reading about how men are reluctant to admit that they all find Pamela Anderson sexy/attractive/pretty. What Chuck says, and I tend to agree, is that men who admit to finding her attractive are either at the cusp of cool or dead in the center of what everyone else is doing. Now, this may not seem like a big revelation, but I think it actually has some worth buried deep inside.

As a woman who is not a man (hahahaha), I see dudes all the time who say that one thing or another is hot/attractive/do-able about some chick. I mean, dudes have different tastes. Thinking that there is something to say about how cool you are based on how trendy the object of your affection is just never occured to me! I feel like such a backwards social component when I admit this.

I remember when Kate Moss was attractive. I remember when that girl from Garbage was attractive. I remember when all kinds of girls were considered pretty, girls who are so far down the list of hot they are now barely remembered. I am thinking about trends of socially pretty.

I like the implications of what Chuck is saying. In these war-torn and economically unfriendly times, who is hot? Is it the matron who will save all the lost boys? Is it the plump version of Rosie who will sustain us all through the famine of social relaxation? I promise to pay attention and report my findings. I am so intrigued by this.

Roads to nowhere

My aunt sends me forwards. Sometimes I read them, sometimes I don't. She has good taste and a wry sense of humor. I should read them more often. The latest one that I dared to open is full of pretty images. The pictures have me thinking about cliches and the depth sometimes hidden in them.

For instance...

There is a coin. It has two sides. They all do. Perspective. Love. Hate. Darkness. Light. Present. Future.

These are both pictures of roads to nowhere. If nowhere is a place you can go, then is it really nowhere?

Losing my religion

I'm losing myself. In light of lessening struggles, who I am is not the clear understanding I once had. I am the girl who overcomes obstacles. Who am I when I am not doing that?

I am almost 30 with the training wheels off for the first time. Who I was and who I am now are just not the same people. This new person does not stand up for herself. This new person does not have anything to offer to a conversation. She talks about herself in the third person.

Today I am beginning a journey to the me I am wthout the weight of the last six years. Maybe it's the change in the air and the world that have prompted me to start a project on myself. I am an amazing person, not the person I was, and not yet the person I will be. Be patient with me. I am learning. Give me credit for what I know. Humility does not make me weak. It is proof that I am strong.

Fall trips

Nathan and I took a trip to Reelfoot Lake this weekend. We had a blast and took some really cool pictures of ourselves.

Single parents understand that there are some quirks about being a single parent that are usually under the radar. One of those things is the fact that Nathan and I hardly ever have pictures of just the two of us, especially when we go on our trips for two.

It's nice that these came out as well as they did, and I already have one above the fireplace.

I also think that my child is mostly awesome almost all the time. So there.

Fishing lesson

My students all want the simple version, but what they fail to understand is that the short cuts are actually more difficult. If they could just pay attention to what I am telling them, then they would be able to cruise through the rest of the semester without the pain of not knowing or the confusion of the fastest way.

It is slowly occurring to me that I am trying to teach hungry people how to fish when all they want is a free meal... Damn it.

Perkins philosophy

Wow! Can I just tell you about Keith? If you keep reading, then I guess the answer is yes. It is completely possible that Keith revealed a little life-truth to me. How you may ask? Well, let me tell you about the hot, sexual-chocolate, muffin.

After a night of chick-merriment, the ladies (Winnie, Liz, and myself) took a drive to Perkins. Sitting in a booth of Liz's choice, we were greeted by Keith. Keith, mind-mannered, thoughtful, and kind, asked us what he could get for us with such ease and grace that I felt as if I were dining on crisp, white linens at a restaurant reserved for the upper-crust. I placed my order for a greasy, saucy treat, and Keith asked me if I would like a muffin, toast, or pancakes.

Now, what my dining companions did not know, I almost always let the server pick my muffin (egads, that sounds dirty!). I looked at Keith and said, "I want you to decide the muffin. Surprise me. It tells me more about you!"

I usually go for the fruity, grainy muffin when the choice is mine. So imagine my reaction when Keith presented me with the most sexual food I have ever witnessed. It was hot and gooey and liquid with its own kind of desire to be in my mouth. The smell, the texture, the exotic presentation of not only the muffin but also an unnecessary cup of soft butter were downright erotic.

This feeling was shared by my companions. We all stared in wild wonder at the sensory overload before us.

Whew... So what does this have to do with life-truhs? Well, here's the thing... Keith brought me the unexpected, the atypical, the unanticipated moment. Maybe that is one of those secrets that rarely gets whispered about joy. I love surprises, so how can I think I know what I want when I know that what I want most is the unknown?

Oh, Keith, you and your hot, sexual-chocolate muffin have given me much to ponder...