The Grab Bag Blog

First of all, I’d like to state that it’s silly to compare the 2008 Beijing Olympics to the 2010 Vancouver games.  China had a hell of a bigger budget and thousands of more volunteers.  You really can’t compare the two when it comes to scale.  I really liked the Vancouver ceremony better than Beijing because it wasn’t so massive.  I’ve always felt like China was showing off (and why not, they’re the host nation and they certainly have the right).  I prefer the more intimate, meaningful show that Canada put on last night.  So, in a spirit of silliness, I decided to list my top ten reasons why the Vancouver show tops Beijing’s.

1. Real snow…INSIDE.
2. They didn’t hire Sarah Brightman to sing.  This should count for two…though I’m not sure if KD Lang makes up for that or not.
3. That amazing floor that turned into so many different things and places.  I want one for my living room.
4. Fiddle playing step dancers with flames shooting out of their feet.  Beat that, China.
5. Donald Sutherland providing narration.  He’s cool because he’s the original Hawkeye (sorry, Mr. Alda) and Keifer’s dad.  He also carried the Olympic flag in.
6. That poem the dude with the neckbeard recited.  “And yes, we say zed.”  Hee hee!
7. Wayne Gretzky, hands down best hockey player ever.
8. Cirque du Soleil-esque skiers and snowboarders.
9. Incorporated the Georgian luger’s death in a tasteful, touching way at the last minute.  Of course, thankfully China didn’t have to deal with that sort of tragedy.
10. See #4.

Switching gears now, I’ve been thinking about Olympic Opening Ceremonies of the past.  I tried to recall as much as I could about them, but I can mostly recall only Summer Olympics.  The earliest one I remember was the 1984 Los Angeles games.  I was six, so I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember the doves being released.  The 1992 Barcelona games had the coolest cauldron lighting ceremony EVER.  Nothing can top using a flaming arrow.  Nothing.

I also remember when Sarah Brightman sang “Amigos Para Siempre” but I won’t make your ears bleed with video of that.  The only awesome opening I can recall from a Winter Games is the 2002 Salt Lake City games when Kiss played “Rock and Roll All Night” while ice skaters whizzed around them.  That opening seemed like one giant block party.

Other Olympic memories.  I remember when Greg Louganis hit his head diving from the platform in the ‘88 Seoul games.  I remember the amazing gymnastic teams we had from the ‘92 and ‘96 Atlanta games.  I remember there was this redneck guy in high school choir who kept pronouncing the  ‘94 Lillehammer games as “Lullay hammer” instead of “Lilla hammer” and it got on everyone’s nerves, especially our teacher’s (seems so silly in retrospect).  I remember the really cute little girls who painted their faces and picked up the flowers for the skaters at the Lillehammer games.  Who can forget the bombings in Atlanta?  I didn’t really watch the 2000 Sydney games that much, so I can’t remember anything.

I do remember going to Greece in 1999 and they were already advertising the 2004 games there.  I had a shirt from Olympia, where we all ran a race in the original stadium.  It was pretty cool to be at the site of the original Olympics.  This is where the flame is lit for every games.  In retrospect, I should have gotten a picture of me by the original cauldron, but I have photos of friends.  Here’s a picture of me in Olympia hiding behind a pillar at the site of the covered running track (so the athletes could train when it was raining).

So now the Olympic Theme will be stuck in our heads for the next 2 weeks because we’ll hear it all the time as the networks play it every 2 minutes.  BAH BAH BAHBAHBAHBAH BAH…blech.  I won’t torture you with it, but instead I take you out in style with John Williams’ much cooler version of the Olympic Fanfare and Theme.

Today I’m having a very difficult time thinking positively.  I think we’re all entitled to some down days now and then and I’m taking one today, though I didn’t wake up this morning and decide that.  Things just kind of unfolded that way as the day progressed.  I don’t feel like being positive or looking on the bright side of things.  I’m tired, my ankle and foot hurt A LOT and I can’t sit down for five minutes to let them heal because I’m taking care of a baby.  Add in overwhelming despair at my failure to secure a job no matter what I do or how hard I try and you’ve got my absolute refusal to be positive today.  Nyah.  So there.

On top of all that, Nora is teething, which is pretty great.  What’s not so great is that her teeth are making her miserable.  Mommy instincts told me that something wasn’t right recently with all the excessive crying and wanting to be held.  My baby hasn’t been herself lately and, while teething crossed my mind, I dismissed it because I honestly couldn’t feel anything in her mouth and the average age for cutting teeth is something like seven months (Nora will be 6 months next week).  Last night, I felt a hard nubbin in there and I saw a tiny white speck on her lower jaw.  Well, that explains all the off behavior.  She had a hard morning.  All she wanted to do was be held and chomp on my finger.  I’ve got a few teething rings and some remedies up my sleeve, but she didn’t want to have anything to do with them.  She was so tired but couldn’t sleep from the pain.  I don’t like to give her medication, but I caved and gave her some Tylenol and that seem to do the trick because she fell asleep about 10 minutes later.

I try so hard to be positive.  I think most of the time, I do an ok job.  Today, I just can’t seem to muster it.  I don’t have the energy to think positively.  Nothing has come up on the job searches and all I’ve done is write a “please please please hire me” begging follow up letter for a theater teacher job.  I don’t even want to teach theater that much, not with a baby around.  I will never be home because I’ll be in rehearsal and I’ll never see Nora.  Almost every theater teacher I’ve known has gotten divorced and that scares me.  Nothing is more important to me than my family and I know I will grow to resent my job because it will keep me from the most important people in my life.  Those feelings will reflect negatively in my teaching performance.  On the other hand, I need to work.  All I can hope for is to get a theater teaching job and then transfer to English when a position becomes open.  I just need to get my foot in the door.

Well, at least I got to get 20 minutes of rest time while writing this.  Writing is cathartic.  It’s a shame I can’t seem to find the time to turn it into a profession since I’ve got some story ideas tumbling through my head.  I think I lack self confidence to put my work out there or maybe just focus.  I don’t know.  I go to bed every night working on this story idea I’ve had for over ten years now.  I think it would make a great novel, but I don’t have the time to write the story and that, like everything else going on in my life right now, only serves to frustrate me and makes me act negative.

I apologize if this has brought you down.  I shall attempt to be more positive in my next entry.  Under the circumstances, don’t be surprised if I’m not.  Until my foot heals, Nora’s teeth leave her alone and turn her back into a happy baby, and I get a job and our money worries go away, I don’t think I’m going to be able to be a bubbly happy Heather.

Literally.  I fell yesterday and fractured my left ankle on the right side.  It’s not as bad as it sounds, just a chip in the bone.  I’m in a soft splint and on crutches until the swelling goes down enough to see a regular doctor on Wednesday and decide whether or not I need a cast or walking boot.  I am praying for a walking boot because I can’t take care of Nora at all while I’m on crutches and Paul’s having to miss work to take care of her.  I can get around and don’t need much help, except for being able to cook and stuff.

My father-in-law came over to watch Nora while we went to the ER.  I’ve twisted/sprained my ankles so many times that I don’t usually bother going into the doctor anymore.  I had a huge goose-egg on the left side and I wasn’t sure if I’d broken something and was in a lot pain, so we decided to go in.  We went to the ER at the Heart Hospital because we’ve both heard that it’s super fast with virtually no wait.  It’s true!  I only waited about 5 minutes before they called me back.  They brought in a portable x-ray machine to my room, which surprised me because I figured I’d get carted up to radiology, but nope!  Digital x-rays are really fast and 10 minutes later the doc told me that I have a chip fracture  on the lower right side.  The left side hurt so much that I was surprised the right was fractured.  I didn’t even feel it until he pushed on the side and then I went, “Owie!!!!”  They splinted my foot, told me to see a regular doc in 3 days after the swelling had subsided, handed me a prescription for Darvoset, a set of crutches, and we were outta there.  Total time: less than 90 minutes.  Sweet!  I am so glad that I wasn’t holding Nora when I fell.  We would have had to go to St. David’s or something to treat both of us because the ER at the Heart Hospital doesn’t like to treat kids (they can, but they don’t have a pediatrician on staff).

It’s looking much better today.  The goose egg is gone and I’m feeling pain from the break now.  I’ve been able to get around the house a bit, but mostly just chilling on the couch with it elevated.  I’ve managed to feed Nora her solid food at the table earlier (rested my foot on an empty chair) and I gave her an afternoon bottle on the couch.   I didn’t sleep well last night thanks to the pain, but I think the Darvoset helped me a bit.  I tried to take an afternoon nap while Paul and Nora went grocery shopping, but the maintenance guy woke me up after an hour or so.  He wanted me to clean out from under the kitchen sink so he could replace the warped board and I was like, “You’ve got to be kidding me.  How do you expect me to get down on the floor with a fractured ankle?!”  I told him he had my permission to clean it out if he wanted to replace it, so he did.

Paul brought me some pretty Astrolemeria from the store.  Nora is on the floor next to the sofa working towards crawling.  She hasn’t done it yet, but she’s gotten both knees underneath her and pushes up on her hands and wiggles her butt in the air, so I’m thinking soon.  Right now, she’s pushing herself backwards by shoving off her hands and it’s really cute to watch!  She’s been doing the “swimming” thing for a few weeks now and is getting frustrated when she can’t go anywhere.  I’d better enjoy it while I can, before she starts getting into stuff.  I just hope she hold off until this ankle gets better and I can chase after her! 

My apartment is full of clutter. Paul and I have been working slowly, but surely, to kick the clutter out the door and simplify everything, but it hasn’t been easy. Things have steadily improved over the last year. Something about having a baby necessitates simplifying your life and it was either clear the place out or drown. Paul did a super job on the office last year, turning it into a nursery and reorganizing everything. It’s a lot better in there now. I make it sound like our place is a junk pile, but it’s really not. We just had so much “stuff” that it was starting to get hard to find places for everything.

In the battle against the “stuff,” we have accomplished several major victories. We used to have piles of random objects hidden behind two of the chairs in the living room and another pile on either side of a book case. We have cleaned out behind one chair and rearranged the living room so it’s next to impossible to pile stuff there (that was also partly because we had to find room to bring the orange tree in for the winter…it’s thanked us by dropping leaves everywhere, the ungrateful thing). I cleared out the piles next to the book case and now it only consists of a neat stack of books that are too big to fit onto my bookshelf and bag of yarn that I have no place for. I’m proud to admit that’s the only bag of yarn. I’m very strict with myself to avoid accumulating a “yarn stash” since I have no place to put it. I only buy enough yarn for a current project and don’t hang onto the leftovers.

That brings us to the other chair. Frankly, I’m not entirely sure what’s in that pile, but it’s all crafting stuff. All of our sewing things take up about half a tall bookshelf and whatever doesn’t fit onto the shelf inevitably gets “tucked” behind the chair and winds up in a pile. That’s the last major holdout for the clutter in the living room and this weekend I started attacking it. I actually have plans for all the crap in the pile, so it will be a slow process in getting rid of it, but I have a vision of a clutter free space behind the dark pink chair. It will happen, oh yes. It will happen.

My first project concerns two bags of scrap material that I’ve been collecting to make a rag rug. The scraps mostly consist of leftovers from when I made all those maternity clothes last spring/summer. I spent about 3-4 hours on the couch cutting up most of the material into 2 inch strips to make into the rug. There’s also a pair of Paul’s old jeans back there that will get converted into jeans for Nora. I got a pattern last Friday so I can make her some cute little pants. I’m all about recycling fabric, especially since baby clothes aren’t cheap and they only wear them for a short period of time. Paul has a partially completed laptop bag lurking back there, but at least it’s all together in a bag. There’s also a lot of glycerin that we bought almost a year ago to make soap, so I’m going to go nuts and make a whole lot of soap one of these days. Anyone want some free soap?

We’ve managed to unclutter the kitchen a little bit this past weekend (that’s probably the least cluttered room in the whole apartment). All of of Nora’s bottles and my breast pump apparatus took up most of a counter by the sink. We got a raised mesh shelf from The Container Store to put everything on (or under) and now it’s all organized and we found the counter!

The majority of the clutter has been forced to retreat to the two closets in the bedrooms. One of the few great features of this apartment is that it has large closets. They aren’t exactly walk-in, because this place was built well before walk-in closets became popular, but you can actually step into the one in the large bedroom (nursery/office) and the one in our bedroom is quite big. Paul and I need to tackle those together because I only have time to do it when Nora is sleeping and I obviously can’t if she’s trying to take a nap. There is one tiny organized corner of the office closet, though, as I bought a big storage container for all the wrapping paper. I managed to get all of it in there, plus tissue, gift bags, and gift tags. Three rolls of Christmas paper were too big, but that’s ok. They fit nicely into a spare bucket by the water heater.

I’m starting to get bogged down in baby clutter, pretty much Nora’s old clothes, but two nice things have happened to help me keep on top of that. Last week, I discovered a perfectly good changing table just sitting by the dumpster. We had been using the top of the dresser with a pad for a changing station, but now that Nora’s able to roll over, I was starting to get nervous. I am not one to go dumpster diving, but I couldn’t resist. Those things retail for well over $100! I brought the table inside, cleaned it off with 409. moved the dresser to under the window, and Paul tightened the screws down (they were a little loose). Voila! Perfect changing table! It has two big shelves underneath, so now we have a lot more storage for diapers, wipes, etc. Yay! A friend of mine asked for Nora’s old clothes for a friend of hers who just had a baby girl and I’m happy to oblige her. They were going to go to Goodwill, anyway, since I don’t tend to buy the name brand stuff that resell shops want (I guess Target isn’t good enough for them, oh well!).

Speaking of Goodwill, Paul and I really need to tackle our clothes clutter. We both have way too many clothes that we don’t wear. I haven’t worn at least a third of the clothes in my closet this past year because they’re too small. I’m working on the weight loss (especially since I’ve been asked to be a matron of honor in a wedding coming up this summer and want to actually look halfway decent), but I also know that it’s silly to hold onto old clothes that you haven’t been able to wear in at least two years.

Killing the Clutter is an ongoing battle, but the thought of a mostly clutter-free apartment makes me immensely happy. The place already looks a lot better than it did a year ago, when I was extremely sick from the pregnancy and hormonal and fretting over raising a baby in such a cramped up place. Part of the cramped-up feeling came from seeing “stuff” everywhere. Now, there’s not so much stuff…at least, not enough to stress me out now.

Now, if only I could land a job, I would be a lot less stressed! DIE, CLUTTER! DIE!

I’ve never been unemployed this long. I keep thinking there’s a reason that I’m having so much trouble finding a job (besides the obvious facts that the economy sucks and there’s millions of people out of work and applying for the few jobs available). I hate to sound like a whiny little kid, but at times I’ve gotten so frustrated, that I’ve looked up at the sky and said, “Why are you punishing me, God? What have I done to deserve this? Don’t you know that I have a baby to feed and bills to pay and am trying to hard to get out of debt and WHY AREN’T YOU MAKING THIS HAPPEN ALREADY?”

Of course, I have enough good sense to know that the job will come when the time is right and my mama always said, “In His time, not in yours.” I also have enough good sense and a strong enough faith to know that I am not being punished and God will not let us starve. Things will happen when they need to happen. Being unemployed has certainly been a test of my faith and I have felt the temptations to do things that aren’t right. It’s when our faith is the weakest is when nasty ol’ Satan likes to try and stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. I’m sometimes conscientious of that and I’m like, “Dude, butt out. I have enough problems right now.”

Instead of sitting on my butt all day feeling sorry for myself, I have decided that maybe the reason I’m unemployed right now is that God wants me to get started on all those millions of projects that I keep sticking on the back burner. If you haven’t know me for a long time, you wouldn’t know that I love to write. I have several stories started or in the outlining phase, but I’ve never finished them. It’s been a while since I’ve written a complete story, but people used to tell me that I was a good writer and that I should try to get published.

I shuffled through my old Word documents and put all those fledgling stories in a folder, so at least now I’ve got some sense of organization going on. I read through and realized that I have at least three good stories going: a children’s book, a short story, and a novel. If you want the truth, I’ve got 2 novels but I can only focus on one at a time. I’m not even going to worry about publishing until at least two of those three stories are finished. I suspect it will be the first two.

The other big project going on is a website I’m doing with my dad-in-law. It’s something that I’d like to keep a little hush-hush right now, but I will blog about it once it’s under way, probably within the next couple of weeks. WOO! Working with Dad has been a lot of fun and I’m learning all about how to organize a website and run a business. It’s also a nice distraction from the monotonous routine of daily life, so no more sitting on the couch twiddling my thumbs.

Actually, this week has been pretty busy. I’ve had something happen just about every day. I met Dad for lunch and to discuss the site one day, another day I did some shopping, today I went up to North Austin to have lunch with a friend and to pick up breastmilk for Nora, and tomorrow I’m going to the fabric store with an old friend. I have been keeping busy and that’s a good thing. Idle Heathers make for insane Heathers, and some of the past entries on this blog attest to that.

Now…off to work on a story. In retrospect, I really need to stop making my paragraphs 5-7 lines each. That’s really boring writing.

I wish this post was about grinding coffee.  Mmm…coffee.

No, this post is pretty much about being stuck in a routine.  My days of being holed up at home with Nora seem to drag on forever.  My daily routine goes something like this…wake up, change the baby, feed the baby, put the baby down, get breakfast, move baby to safe location (crib), take a shower and ignore baby crying in crib because she doesn’t want to be there, pump, put screaming baby down for nap, check email/do laundry/whatever else is on my to do list/apply for jobs/not find any jobs and get irritated, wake baby, change baby, feed baby, attempt to entertain baby while I make lunch, afternoon round of whatever else is on my to do list/apply for jobs/not find any jobs and get irritated/grocery shopping/wishing I had something to do, put screaming baby down for nap, more of the same, wake baby, change baby, feed baby, twiddle my thumbs until Paul comes home, maybe make dinner, give baby bath, play computer games, go to bed.

I need a job because I am tired of being a stay at home mom.  It’s not that I don’t have anything to do…I have plenty.  It’s that I’m finding it harder and harder to motivate myself because it’s the same. old. thing.  I guess I’m just whining here.  I don’t know.  Lately, I’ve found it hard to do anything but sit on my butt and wait for Facebook to update.

The obvious answer is, “Get out and do stuff!”  Easier said than done with a four month old.  Realistically, I’ve got maybe a 90 minute window where she’s dry/fed/not tired when I can get stuff done by myself.  The fed and dry thing we can take care of easily, but not the tired.  When she’s tired, she’s TIRED and will let you know it by utilizing her only means of communication: her lungs.  Nora got my lungs, which makes me both proud and dismayed.  Proud because, in my singing prime, I could hold some seriously long and loud notes.  Dismayed because she can holler down the rafters.  This child quite possibly has a career in the opera.

So, getting out to relieve the tedium isn’t really a viable option.  Sometimes we have “fun days” when I meet a friend for lunch or we go visit Beloved Grandfather (like when all the washers at the PLV are broken and my in-laws graciously let me use theirs).   A few weeks ago, I got to run to the store without Nora and it felt really weird (Paul stayed with her).  I’d forgotten what it felt like to be truly alone.

I’m coming up on my last Unemployment check and it’s scary.  I don’t really know what we’ll do.  I sat down and counted and I’ve applied for over 100 jobs since September.  I’ve had two interviews.  I know it’s the Recession, everyone keeps telling me that, but I’m starting to feel really useless and it’s a serious blow to my self esteem.  I’ve never gone this long without being employed.  I have all this education and experience and yet it’s not enough.  I want to work SO BADLY, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life (except to marry Paul, of course).

I also feel guilty because I know being at home is the best thing for Nora, but being with her day in and day out with no break is really wearing me down and I want to be able to escape to a job.  It seems like every day, I spend a good five or ten minutes fretting and wishing fervently for a job (it’s not like I’m not trying here).  If our financial circumstances were better and I didn’t need to work, I wouldn’t feel so bad.  It’s not a need versus want in our situation.  I NEED to work.  I NEED to help provide for Nora.  I WANT to stay home with her, but needs win over wants anyday.

My father-in-law and I are working on a project together.  Maybe something will come of it, maybe it won’t.  I don’t have anything else to do right now, so it provides a nice challenge and a distraction.

Hopefully, the new year will bring me a new job and less slowly going insane from the tedium of the daily housewife grind.

I can’t end this post on such a low note.  Here…watch some John Williams-inspired goodness happiness.  This always makes me smile!

My house smells like roasted butternut squash!  We’re having butternut squash and pear soup for dinner.  YUM!  The weather suddenly turned cold this morning and it’s perfect soup weather.  Finally!  I’ve been wanting it to get cold so I could make a big pot of this soup.  Nom nom nom…sooooo good.

I was digging through more old files and found a song parody I wrote last year after several weeks of watching Star Trek: Voyager.   I think I must have been exposed to way too much Gilbert and Sullivan as a child or something, because I sat down one day and wrote this parody of “Modern Major General” from The Pirates of Penzance starring The Doctor and this was the result.  I posted it onto a song parody website and it got lots of favorable responses, so it must be pretty good.  I don’t know.  You kind of had to have watched Voyager to get the references.  I thought I’d post it anyway, just for kicks.

And yes, I’m weird and often have too much time on my hands.  ;-D  Enjoy!

“Model of a Doctor Holographical”

A Parody of “Modern Major General” from Gilbert and Sullivan’s Pirates of Penzance.

As sung by The Doctor

I am the very model of a doctor holographical.

I’ve information ethical, and tactical, and medical.

I’ve treated sentient beings in my voyages galactical

From Bolian to Vidiian, in order alphabetical.

I’m very well acquainted, too, with processes authorical.

My novel was terrific, though my friends they were quite skeptical.

My agent let the story out and Janeway, she was really pissed.

They said I am not sentient but I have the rights of an artist.

They said he was not sentient but he has the rights of an artist.

They said he was not sentient but he has the rights of an artist.

They said he was not sentient but he has the rights of an artist.

I sometimes have the power to ignore the captain’s countermands.

And if the crew’s in trouble then I’ll take emergency command.

In short, in matters ethical, and tactical, and medical,

I am the very model of a doctor holographical.

In short, in matters ethical, and tactical, and medical,

He is the very model of a doctor holographical.

In the social graces I instructed dear Seven of Nine.

Of her, I have deep feelings and I know that she is my sunshine.

My offers sometimes go ignored, but I think they are really great.

(It might just be my tendency to excesi’vly pontificate.)

If you state the nature of the medical emergency

The EMH will help you (not forgetting models Two and Three)

I often can be pompous and my antics sometimes do annoy

On more than one occasion, I have imitated Doc McCoy.

On more than one occasion, he has imitated Doc McCoy.

On more than one occasion, he has imitated Doc McCoy.

On more than one occasion, he has imitated Doc McCoy.

I dressed up like a priest and served the villagers of Fair Haven.

I beamed across the galaxy to save old Doctor Zimmerman.

In short, in matters ethical, and tactical, and medical,

I am the very model of a doctor holographical.

In short, in matters ethical, and tactical, and medical,

He is the very model of a doctor holographical.

In fact, I can sing opera flamboyantly with great gusto.

I dreamed of stopping Tuvok while ad-libbing Verdi’s Rig’letto.

I hid in Seven’s body and ingested too much drink and food.

And fantasized of painting her while she posed for me, nearly nude.

I learned about bereavement when my holographic daughter died.

I held my wife and teenage son and we all grieved by her bedside.

I serve the Federation and I loyally do all I can

I aided the Mark 2 and saved their starship from the Romulans.

He aided the Mark 2 and saved their starship from the Romulans.

He aided the Mark 2 and saved their starship from the Romulans.

He aided the Mark 2 and saved their starship from the Romulans.

Through all the years I traveled, I surpassed my capabilities

And proved to my creator of my many versatilities.

But still, in matters ethical, and tactical, and medical,

I am the very model of a doctor holographical.

But still, in matters ethical, and tactical, and medical,

He is the very model of a doctor holographical.

Sorry I have been remiss in posting.  It’s been a busy month.  I was able to receive Unemployment Benefits, which have helped some with the financial situation.  Yay!  I’m required to apply for 5 jobs a week, which I was doing anyway.  I just have to write it all down.  I’ve had one or two interviews but nothing good.  Hopefully something will come up soon!

I sewed a shirt for Will so he has something to wear when we all go to TRF next weekend.  I’m planning on making Nora’s outfit this week.  Paul and I just got back from a little weekend in Wimberley to celebrate our second wedding anniversary.  It was kind of last minute and we weren’t even going to go, but a space opened up in a B&B and we went.  Wimberley is very cute and the people are very nice.  I can’t wait to go back, even if it’s just for a day trip.

That’s about the most of it.  I was digging through some old files and I found a poem I’d written when I was getting my undergrad at UD.  I think I wrote this junior or senior year…it was on my dorm room door at one point.  I wrote it one night in a fit of inspiration and frustration.  UD requires 12 hours of Philosophy as part of their Core Curriculum.  I understand why they do it (the Core is based on the Western tradition), but frankly…it was a little bit of a waste.  I wouldn’t have minded taking one or even two classes of Phil, but four was way too many and I didn’t get much out of it.  I can understand some silly jokes that philosophers tell, but that’s about it.  Oh, and this poem, of course!

Frustrations on Being Forced to Study Philosophy at UD

by Heather Lesh

(Phil Majors are not allowed to commit acts of murder on the poet.  Thank you.)

Socrates is such a funk

Drinks but never gets too drunk.

Comtemplates on caves and lines

As he puts away the wine.

Athens thought they’d bump him off.

Gave him hemlock for to quaff.

Good for them, but not for me.

I still have to take philosophy.

Plato is just way too deep.

Put us students right to sleep.

Babbles about Forms and crap

While the class just takes a nap.

Came up with this city thing

Ruled by a Philosopher King.

Politicians not ruled by money?

Plato, you are very funny!

Aristotle is absurd.

No one understands his words!

Takes too long to clarify

The where, what for, and the why.

Accidents and qua for qua,

YACKITY SHMACKITY BLAH BLAH BLAH!

Makes me sleep and makes me snore.

Aristotle is a bore.

Aquinas was a Christian guy.

Tried and tried to answer why

Man is man and has a soul.

Wrote and tried to prove his goal.

Objection this and reply that,

Thought he had the answers pat.

His thoughts, well they were highly prized.

And even got him canonized.

Descartes was a guy from France

Where they do the can can dance.

Sat around and was a ham,

Said, “I think, therefore I am.”

Controversial stuff he thought

And some publishing he sought.

But Galileo got a lickin’

And Descartes proved to be a chicken.

I swear I didn’t eat anything strange before going to bed.  I didn’t eat anything at all!  It’s 5:10 am and I just had the most insane dream…very silly and so weird that it prevented me from going back to sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  So, I figured that if I wrote it down, it would stop bouncing around my head like a toddler who’s had too much Dr. Pepper and Pixie Sticks.

Our 2nd wedding anniversary is less than a month away.  Paul and I can’t afford to go anywhere this year, so we’ve been debating how to celebrate here at home.  We’ve been talking about going to a nice restaurant.  In my dream, we’d chosen this new restaurant that had been getting rave reviews.  We walked in and sat down in a booth.  I think it was vaguely supposed to be The Melting Pot (where we went last year), except that instead of a heating element to warm fondue, there was a large barbeque grill in the middle of the table.  Our waiter was one of those flying robot aliens from Batteries Not Included.  I haven’t seen that movie since I saw it in the movie theater as a kid (in 1987).

Flying alien robots

For some reason, I was dressed in a bright fuscia housecoat and had curlers in my hair.  I don’t even own a housecoat and hope not to until I’m at least 65.  The curlers were my mom’s 1970 specials that I grew up with…the really hard kind of curlers that hurt, not the soft foam ones you get these days.  I get a headache just thinking about them.  I haven’t used curlers in years and they’re utterly useless.  I can leave them in for hours and my hair just laughs and does whatever the hell it wants (usually goes ridiculously poofy).  Paul was dressed in a fancy shmancy tux like James Bond , except he was wearing a kilt (rrrraaaawwwrrrr).

So the waiter/alien robot flew over to our table towing a giant side of beef underneath it in a blue sparkly light (like a tractor beam).  We’re talking Fred Flintstone Brontosaurus rib proportions here.  That was one damn big cow!  The barbecue kicked in and flames were shooting everywhere roasting the thing right at the table.  It was sort of like Benihana meets The Melting Pot.  I thought about asking for a thermal protection suit, but it would have clashed with my stylin’ curlers and housecoat ensemble.

Sitting at the table next to us was Wil Wheaton.  I’m not sure why he was there since I’m pretty sure he’s a vegetarian and probably not likely to patronize a place like that.  He was playing some sort of role playing adventure a la Dungeons and Dragons, except he was alone.  I imagine it’s hard to play those sort of games solo, but he was doing it.  Anyway, he was very excited and kept getting some awesome rolls on the dice.  I wasn’t paying much attention (after all, there was a huge flaming side of beef in front of me and it was my anniversary), but I know he got a killer roll and took out a bunch of orcs singlehandedly with his Level 62 magepaladinwizardthief.

No more reading about Wil’s adventures at RinCon on Twitter right before bedtime for me.

He was also drinking Crystal Pepsi by the gallon and his robot waiter alien kept hauling it in with its blue sparkly tractor beam.  I haven’t thought of Crystal Pepsi in ages, but I drank the stuff like crazy in junior high.  Yes, I was a Crystal Pepsi fan.  Maybe the dream is like some sort of LSD flashback you get years later, except it was caused by consuming way too much CP in the early 90’s.

So the side of beef finished cooking way faster than it would in reality.  This chef wearing a Hawaiian print chef’s coat came out and started carving it up…with a chainsaw.  The chainsaw played “Music Box Dancer.”  I think it was about this point that I suddenly lost my appetite for meat and asked for a salad.  I have a secret inner vegetarian that comes out occasionally.  She probably has a name like Peaches Agave Hestia, or something, but I just lose all desire to consume meat sometimes.  The robot alien tractored in a salad bigger than my head while Wil Wheaton took out a red dragon that was guarding piles of gold coins, platinum balls, and a sword that vibrated and glowed purple in the presence of liars.  Sword of Truth…sweet.

As Paul chomped away on a rib that took both hands to hold, I picked up a rather large fork, and Wil happily collected his treasure, a band of singing gypsies trooped by and started singing “Happy Birthday.”  Paul told them it was our anniversary.  They apologized and started singing the same tune, except “Happy Anniversary.”  One of them snapped his fingers and a bunch of fireworks went off outside a la Disneyland.  Tinkerbell even flew across the sky.

I woke up at this point wondering what time it was, what the heck I ate to have a dream like that, and when the baby was going to start crying to be changed/fed/cuddled.  I sincerely hope our anniversary celebration isn’t that weird.  The robot alien waiters would be cool, though!  And Paul dressed up like James Bond.  Thankfully, the Evil 70’s Curlers are 1,800 miles away in San Francisco with my mother.

I think we’ll stick to something like The Cheesecake Factory and not Brontobenimeltingpot.

I’ve been meaning to post this one for awhile, but never found the time.  I couldn’t do a lot of things when I was pregnant.  Now that I’m not, I can finally have…

Not that I’m a big beer drinker and you won’t find me swimming in vats of the stuff, but it sucks when you can’t have it.  Man, I love those Brownies.