Clear Skies/Clear Heads Prevail

The rain has stopped and the air is clean.  It's cold (well for LA--50s and 60s is COLD!) and crisp and pretty.  Traffic is better without the drops pounding down, but I can tell that there are more potholes.  I am hesitant to say that the prior week's stress has left with the rain--it looks like things are righting themselves, financially at least.  My eyes are no longer goopy, my throat no longer sore, and my nose no longer runny.  Only a few sneezes today.  Half of my students were out Friday.  I assume we all had the same bug.  There's been lots of nose-blowing and sneezing in class, but even with that the kids seemed healthier today than they did last week.

I spent most of the weekend resting so I've little to comment or report on.  In the years since I was married I've spent many hours in quiet contemplation, meditation or rest.  It is never too quiet for me.  

I find that, for a cold, sleep and liquids, a little extra vitamin C and zinc and some babying is a great cure.  I even had some chicken soup.  But I did nearly nothing except read a bit. 

Salon.com, Slate.com, Huffingtonpost.com, Truthout.org and Truthdig.org all carry the latest political news--I'm following the races and have even received three mailers notifying me of my polling place (these are from the county registrar--not political parties).  I guess someone really does want me to vote early and often (well at least three times!)  It's fun to see the hullabaloo over who might win the Republican and Democratic nominations but I just want a Democrat to win and I hope God blesses the winner--because he or she has an enormous mess to clean up and I wouldn't wish that job upon anyone.

Monkey Wrenches In the Stars? Go with the Flow.

It's be a trying week.  After Christmas, skinny-wallet syndrome hit hard.  I've been waiting for a check to alleviate the tummy rumblings in my poor old wallet.  I've been trying to make the check come to me faster.  Absurd.  It's out of my hands.

This situation, however, rubbed some tender value and worth scars open.  This type of pain takes me back to early childhood and so, like a child I had a temper tantrum.  I don't throw things or lie on the floor pounding my fists and kicking my feet anymore--not like when I was five. But I can throw an impressive pity-party: I gather up the nastiest dark rain clouds for decoration and shake up everything--the soundtrack:  the smashing clouds of my angry-hurt thunder. 

I think the Universe  spanked me for my foolishness--first no check, then a $40 parking ticket, then a dead hard drive ($275!), raised interest rate on a credit card (26%--this should be illegal!), a ripped contact lens--the last one--and I had to drive to work (in the rain) and then work without being able to see very well, Thursday my ATM card was picked up and used by someone (someone who didn't know how to use it, fortunately).  Oh yeah--and I've got a bug:  sore throat, sinus congestion, and hacking cough.   That's not everything--but it's enough to get the idea.  It's funny now.  And I still don't have that damn check!

My temper tantrum-ming is a regression that takes me deep into my mother's and my grandmother's psychic lives.  All went to college.  All were brilliant and creative.  And no one did a thing with it--none of them could.  All married men who weren't giving--men who caused them problems.  And, in fact, both grandmothers married men who gambled all their money away.  Nothing.  They had nothing.  When I get into that state of pity it's on behalf of all of us girls--but it's a useless and ugly performance.

I saw Into the Wild this week and finished reading Eat, Prey, Love.  I like that Ms. Gilbert and Felipe found one another.  During the last nine years on my own, after my own ugly divorce, I've teeter-tottered in my thoughts and feelings about the possibility of having a real loving relationship with a man.  I've dated quiet a bit.  I've seen some men for long stretches of time, but it's just not happened for me--a loving, mature relationship.   I don't know if I hold myself back because I cannot suspend disbelief.  I think that takes some of the fun out of the whole thing for the guys.  One romance was so romantic and lovely--it was worth all the pain when it ended.   I knew when I was in it, though, that it wasn't the makings of a long term relationship--but it was fantastic to feel loved and adored (I was reminded of this reading of Gilbert and Felipe).   I seem to find men who have "commitment issues."  My therapist says they can't let go of their mothers--or, they feel that their mothers wouldn't want them to let go so they can't move on.

I was told recently it'd be best if I  just got over my own childhood.  (A quick note:  I don't know anyone who didn't have some version of a rough childhood.  I suspect we'd all like to have been the only child and to have been doted on all the time by our parents as if we were the only thing going on in their lives.  Then they'd let us go without a pang of possessiveness when it's time to leave the nest--still loving us unconditionally and playing the role of our biggest cheerleaders.)

I told my therapist "you can't get over your childhood."  All these years talking--and finally a breakthrough.  He agreed (but of course you can't get over it!)  "you can't get over it, but you can understand it."

A friend says "you have to accept you have a hole that won't get filled."

But today I say, it's not that there are holes that need to be filled.  For me it's understanding that current situations don't need a five-year-old's reactive response.  Or it's understanding that my gut reactions aren't usually about what's happening now.  So understanding my childhood is informative.  I'm not standing, hands on my waist, stamping my foot impatiently, for the universe to serve up all my desires RIGHT NOW!  

But I still really would like to have that check!

That's Entertainment

There are so many good movies out now.  No Country for Old Men is fantastic.  It is perfection--well-acted, well-written and lovely to look at.  It's super-violent though, so you're warned.  The ingenuity of the main characters is fascinating and I've not been in such suspense since watching Wait Until Dark.  It's very macho.

I saw There Will Be Blood.  I'd have removed the last scene and played with the story a bit more although the acting was fantastic and cinematography was wonderful.  The soundtrack is exciting!  That was more innovative than the script.  I've a bias in enjoying the scenery--I'm Californian and have worked with environmental groups to preserve lakes and animals throughout the state.  I wished I could smell the sagebrush in Little Boston and walk through the stands of oak on the coast.  

I've seen Sweeny Todd--another gorgeous looking movie, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Michael Clayton, Before the Devil Knows Your Dead and several others.

Aside from the movie about Queen Elizabeth and Juno where are the movies about women? Where's my life up on the screen?  I suppose the answer is to write..I'm not on strike.  

Oh...I forgot Sex and the City will be in theaters at the same time I'll be celebrating my forty-ninth birthday.  I've always enjoyed watching that show--but it makes me want to drink and even when I was younger and cuter the opportunities to meet men weren't like in that show.  Also, I'm divorced and have kids and it's lightness somehow avoided, I think, the real confusion of what it means to be a woman today.  In the recent past women had no choice, for the most part, but to have a family.  Now it's a choice--but that doesn't make  the biological imperative disappear.  And the socialization factor that says we all must marry hasn't disappeared.  Sex and the City, to me, always seemed to be so much about expensive shoes and dining out.  That's not my story.  At least not yet!

2008 Relationship Quiz--Ask If You Dare

I've often fantasized about creating a quiz that I'd pull out and hand to a blind date.  In the fantasy I give it on that first coffee date.  In reality, there are questions I just avoid, then I go see my therapist and he pumps me for information about the man I'm seeing and I then blurt out:  "You don't understand!  If I ask all that, I'd scare any man away!" 

But my therapist is right.  There is "stuff" you do need to know regardless of how mesmerizing a potential partner might be.  From a woman's point of view, you want to know if a man loves and values women, because if he doesn't there's no good place the two of you can go together. From the vantage of my almost forty-nine years I believe we are all wounded in some way.  So, it's good to know which scars have healed, and which bumps and bruises might get irritated when two people collide.  I can't figure out the question that would give me the information as to whether or not a man can handle getting bumped a bit--or whether he can handle my own reactions when I smack a bruise that hasn't healed.  But maybe you can learn if he loves women and if he's up to a bit of self-examination.

Today my friend Lily commented that it seems like most people's questions are limited to taste.  After two people decide there is an attraction, they limit their knowledge to finding out what kind of food, movies, music and books the other likes.  Here are some more probing questions:

•  "How long were you married?" or "How long was your longest relationship?"
  
• "Why did you divorce?" or "Why did you break up?" or "Why didn't you marry?"  or "What did your wife die from?"
  
• "Have you had any therapy?"  (I asked a guy who was divorcing a psychiatrist this once--it was funny.)
  
• "How long were your parents married?"
  
• "Were they happy?"  
  
• "Did you have a good relationship with your mother?"  (There's a movie, Shopgirl, in which a cold character played by Steve Martin asks this question of a potential lover.  It made me wince--he clearly only had the capacity to have a sexual affair with the girl, but he asks her this as if he has insight into human behavior, even though he has none about his own.  See the movie--it has a happy ending, but within it are some sad truths.  Martin wrote Shopgirl as a novela.)
  

My therapist gets even more intense:

• "Were you breast or bottle fed?"  (I just can't ask that of a stranger or even someone I know a little!)
  
• "How happy are the women in your family--grandmothers, aunts, sisters--how have they been treated?"
  

I'm only on nine!

• "Why did you/didn't you have children?"
  

I don't know if I can get to twenty.

• "What kind of relationship do you envision for yourself?"
  
• "Why do you want a relationship?"   (I once saw a man who said he didn't "do" relationships.  I didn't know exactly what he did "do"--well I do know, but if you don't go deeper than what some people are content with doing--again, a play on the theme of my friend Lily's comment--you miss an opportunity to learn and grow.  Who else but those nearest and dearest can stir us up enough to learn about ourselves so we can grow?  It's not always pretty--but still I'd like to be "stirred."  I just don't want to be "shaken" so on with the questions:
• "Do you have sisters or did you grow up around other women?"
  
• "Did you date much in high school or college?"
  
• "Do you take any medication?"
  
• "Do you sleep well?""
  

Some of these are touchy:

• "Under what circumstances would you see more than one woman at a time?"
  
• "When do you think it's appropriate to be exclusive with one partner?"
  
• "Are you interested in living with a partner, getting married or just dating?"
  
• "When were you last tested for STDs and what were the results?"
  
• "What do you do for birth control?"
  
• "What charities/activities do you participate in?"
  
• "If a bum asked you for money, what would you give him/her?"
  

That's 21.  I was going to start by asking:  "What's your favorite color and how much do you weigh" because one of my favorite cartoons has a man just reaching the summit of a mountain where a Guru sits.  And that's the caption.  It made me laugh until I cried.  I think there are many more questions to ask.  These, I think are the scariest ones.

It's Off to Work We Go

Last week was the first week back at work.  I teach middle school students in Los Angeles.  I feel like I never left--and yet I had three weeks off!

My job keeps me occupied.  The days go by fast.  It's fun to see kids learn.  The school district is a mess though.  I don't think my union is so hot either.  The children have the best energy in the place, with the exception of a few funny teachers.

Last week was a busy one after work as well--I got brakes for my car, had my teeth cleaned, went out with my kids, did some yoga and some therapy.

Thursday I picked up a copy of  Eat, Pray, Love  Elizabeth's Gilbert's bestseller.  She had a horrific divorce too.  It's a terrific book so far.  I'm just in Italy with her--eating along, learning a bit of Italian too.

There really isn't much to write here.  I won't expand on LAUSD or my union, UTLA.  The governor's announced severe cutbacks in the budget--It'll affect my job.  But one thing I've learned is that there is no value in thinking about such things except to consider preparation or options.  The union is asking for 9% raise, which is absurd under the circumstances.  I don't think I'll get a pay cut.  So there are no worries here.  None at all.

Change, Change, Change

Wow, what a night last night.  Things can change on a dime.  That's worthwhile to note in life as much or more than in politics.  One day you are down and then the next--everyone loves you.  All that's needed is a change of venue or a show of vulnerability or a new pair of eyes.

A friend of mine is contemplating leaving her husband.  It's an abusive, controlling, jealous relationship.  She's planning things out to be prepared ahead of time (getting more work, saving money, learning about the divorce process.)  She's lining up those duckies.  But there was a lingering fear:  would anyone else be interested in her once she left him?  

And just like that the fear was assauged.

A man she works with showed an interest in her.  He flirted with her.  He called her and said he thought about her.  My friend isn't some hot mamma from Desperate Housewives.  She's a mother of four, holds two jobs and sleeps very few hours most nights.  She gets a kick out of this tentative attention.  It's a nice surprise that gives her hope that a new life will be a good life.

One minute you're on your spouse's dump-on list and the next a friend or even stranger lets you know that you are wonderful, you are beautiful, you are worth something--quite a lot actually.  What a difference a new opinion makes.

Things can change on a dime.

Flu and Vote Season

It's flu and cold season, yet nearly all my students have returned from winter break looking healthy and energetic and I'm the one with the bug.  My oldest son said he had a cold one day last week.  I was able to get him to suck on a few cough drops laced with vitamin C and zinc and we made sure to get Won Ton soup at the local  Chinese restaurant (Mao's Kitchen in Venice--it's groovy).   My younger son had a stomach flu yesterday and today and stayed home from school. I got the bug from my oldest son Sunday so I've been taking it easy and have been popping a vitamin supplement called Wellness Formula since then.   But today I had a headache all day--and still I taught.  Cold and flu season in my family comes right before you have to go back to school--I guess we all would have preferred to just stay home.

Today, my beginning ESL students read a short story about a family that lived in Wisconsin.  We looked at a map to compare where we live--Los Angeles, California--to where Wisconsin is.  The kids have come to school bundled up because it's cold.  It's in the 60s!  Except for the Iranian kids, most of my students are from even warmer climes than Los Angeles.  No wonder they are cold.  I explained that if we are cold now, we would be frozen in Wisconsin.

I thought of this because I'm watching PBS's report on the New Hampshire primary.  Angelenos (especially the native ones)  don't own coats like those the news reporters standing out in the snow wear.  But we can buy scarves and mittens when the air dips down into the 60s.  You won't catch me wearing scarves or mittens--but I've got the space heater cranked up high and I'm looking forward to the return of 70 degree weather this coming weekend.

Happy voting people.