Writing on Writing: More Writing!

I have been inspired by Hightouch to try to blog...at least a little bit.....
But, alas, what to say?
Firstly I have to say that this semester is a motherfucker. (Pardon my swearing! I like to swear!). What is the nature of this M-Fness? Hard to say.
Mother Fucker Nature, let me list you:

1. Teaching a New Class: This is not as hard as it sounds, but harder than it should be. For some reason, I have these little over achievers submitting writing to me constantly. CON-STANT-fucking-LY. Whose idea was this? Mine, apparently.
2. Working on Committees. If there is a BANE to any existence it is the creation and subsequent meeting of this and or that committee. One may actually love some of their compatriots on this committee but that does nothing to dull the mind-numbingness of just the sheer fucking actuality of BEING on a committee. Enough said.
3. Writing. Am I writing? Hells no. But I have forced myself to write for fifteen minutes each night for say the last week. So I have done _some_ writing. (If I could make the font of the word "writing" smaller so as to indicate how little I do, I would). 
4. Anxiety. This, friends, is the hobgoblin of little minds. Namely, mine. I worry the shit out of everything. This, however, does not prevent me from watching more TV than is perhaps advisable, and, somehow I manage NOT to worry while actually watching TV (and maybe drinking wine, I won't lie...) but watching TV does not make the anxiety go away. It just distracts it for a bit. What is this anxiety about? Not working on my novel. But, hey, whatever.
5. TV: I watch some/bit/a lot of TV. To wit: Brooklyn 99 (Andy Samberg, what what?); New Girl (not as good as it used to be, but Schmidt! He does Crossfit!); The Mindy Project (um, hello?? hilarious, also Morgan!); Modern Family (tight suit!); Parks and Rec (please don't talk to me about the small number of episodes before I have to wait until January....); Continuum (netflix). I think that's it....

And so, friends, my fifteen minutes comes to a close. If you want to know what else I am up to, re: thinking, I will just say sonnets, earthquakes, Pangaea. You're going to have to do the rest of the work yourself. 

(Did I mention my neck is fucked up? My neck is fucked up! Tomorrow: massage!!)

I have a blog?

So months pass, apparently, and I don't blog. Because I am busy.
But also, sometimes I get angry, and then I think about venting, but where? So, yeah...the blog.
This semester is harder than others, and I don't want this blog to be my personal journal so I'll just note a few things that make me crazy and (try to) move on.

1. Students who are so apathetic they can barely put together a (spoken) sentence. I'm not joking. I keep trying to tell this student to drop, but she keeps responding with "Yeah...I'll have to....yeah...I'll check the...." Seriously. I'm trying to help you, I want to scream, but she's....still...breathlessly... talking.....sort of.....
2. Disagreements which are stupid, basically, but which still make me angry, which makes me angry (don't even try to understand this one, but suffice it to say when people say things meant to make you angry, and then you get angry, and then other people wonder why you are angry, and then other people wonder say that disagreement is the same as shutting down the conversation....oh my!)
3. How the internet is a self-perpetuating machine. So I get angry, and then what do I do? I look for stupid videos to make me feel better....Oh, internet, you have eaten my brain.
4. Why is there no TV?
5. I need a drink.

In conclusion, I may not make it through this semester alive/sane/sober. 

Lack of Sleep? Or Reality?

Now that two weeks of school are over and done, and the third about to begin, I must confess I feel a bit sick, sort of a nauseous-anxiety-dread. Also, I must confess that the last two nights I have slept very little, both nights because of, perhaps, too much food + red wine, and also, last night at least, because crazy Gus kept whining/coughing.
So what is causing my nausea-anxiety-dread? Is it simply a lack of sleep? Will I wake up tomorrow thinking that the world is peachy keen and that all one needs in life is a balance of waking and sleeping time?
Or...or, dear readers, is the confluence of lack of sleep mixing noxiously with Obama education-speeching hysteria & Glenn-Beck Day declaring insanity?
What I'm saying, beloved ones, is maybe it's NOT just a lack of sleep but a too large dose of reality? I mean, people are hysterical. Mayors are declaring Glenn Beck Day (maybe it's just the one, but that is one too many).
Oh, on this Labor Day, I am a downer.
I will get some rest and check back in with you tomorrow.

Clarity Lite

All of you know that I recently ran a big crazy race (because I won't stop talking about it). I think I hurt my waist (if one can hurt one's waist, then I did), but that's not what I want to write about. No, I want to write about the general sense of happiness and well-being that has come over me since the race. Actually, I think it started with the third leg of the race. I went into it with the attitude of well, this is the last one, how bad can it be? because soon it will be over. But I have to say that the third leg was my favorite.
First, because it was the third leg, I didn't feel like I had to run fast. I just settled into a rhythm and stuck with it. It helped that my rhythm also allowed me to pass a few people.
Second, the leg started at Rockport State Park in the dark. But not in the real middle-of-the-night dark. It was more the sun's-about-to-come-up dark. So I ran into the sunrise, farm land on each side. Horses, grass, barns. Wow. It was beautiful. And I just felt happy to be running in the morning in such a beautiful place. If not for the race, would I ever have run exactly there at that time? No.
Third, and maybe this is the endorphins talking, but since I got back (well, to be honest I'd have to say that it's really since I woke up Sunday morning after a good night's sleep) I've felt a little more calm about most things. I don't worry so much about not writing, I don't worry so much about the future or the past.
There's nothing like a big crazy race to help you live (or run) in the present moment. It's still difficult, of course, but I have to say I haven't been plagued by the self-doubt that is usually my constant companion. I haven't worried that I'm a total fraud (until I typed it just now. Now I'm worried about it).
In any case, my general level of anxiety about most things (including exercise) has subsided. I'm loving riding my bike around and swimming.
Peace out!

Sick

Son has been sick off and on ("on" being Tuesday afternoon, Wednesday, Thursday afternoon, Friday night). He has the afternoon fever thing going on. So much so that he slept in our bed with me last night while poor MB was stuck with the kid's double bed. Son had a 102 degree fever, then his body felt like hot coals, then he was super sweaty. Finally, he was okay. That was around 1 a.m.
He woke up several times last night, talking and gesturing. He inherited this from MB. Once he had his hand up like he was trying to catch something. He was saying "het, het." (as near as I could figure).
Another time he woke up and I thought he was going to throw up or something. He was grunting and opening and closing his hands like beaks. He went to the bathroom and I kept asking him, "What's wrong? What's wrong?" He finally yelled, "Fingers!" and went back to bed.
Needless to say, I didn't sleep well last night. The night before that we foolishly stayed up to get closure on "Dexter." I'm actually glad, because now I need all my energy to freak out about the DFL which is in 44 days and, as you probably need not be reminded, I haven't written it yet. AND I want a friend to take photographs for it. Which means I need to finish in the next week. No pressure!!
So if I'm mean to you, please attribute it to the fact that I haven't slept and I'm pretty much having an anxiety attack 24/7.

Yes, yes, and Yes!

Apparently I am not the only one who goes full-scale anxiety attack before a big, fun trip. Witness the title of High Touch Mega Store's latest post: to which my title replies, Yes! Last night when I was lamenting the strength of the headache coming on, MB said, "You're just like Hightouch!" And??
So, instead of going to bed and getting a good night's sleep, I cracked open a beer (is that on the vegan diet? Yes, but not on the skinny bitch diet. They say it makes my ass fat. So be it.) and started addressing envelopes. What? you may ask. What does this have to do with preparing and packing for NYC?
Well. It is just one of the many things I feel need to be done before I can depart with a clear conscience. Why? Well, I have been meaning to send out my wonderful stories and essays that have been languishing on my laptop and no where else. Now, when I send out the last two stories, I will have stories and essays languishing at reviews all over the country. What an accomplishment!
Also, I have a few friends whose babies I have not yet sent gifts to. Those may have to wait until after NYC. I also need to do laundry so that I can pack. Also, I need to think and rethink several key outfits. Also, I need to figure out how I'm going to workout in NYC so that I don't gain ten pounds, maybe only five. I also need to choose a book to take and decide which magazines I'm going to buy. This will be done at the airport with Hightouch so that we can double our magazine buying power.
I hope, desperately, that there is a trashy romantic comedy for me to watch on the plane. Oh, I also need to load up my ipod. Right? Yes!!
Also I need to make sure to love up on Son, indulge him ridiculously, feed him sweets so that he remembers me and misses me. Also, if I die in a plane crash, I don't want him to only remember how I scream at him, "Go to sleep!" at approximately 10:14 each evening. Last night he did a little sleepwalking, then fell back to sleep in our bed and it endeared him to me greatly.
I probably have some "grading" to do and other "school" related things to tick off the ole list but honestly, that's not what I worry about. What do I worry about?
It's like that scene from "Sex in the City" when Carrie and Burger are fighting about scrunchies and she asks that women in line in front of her what borough she's from and the woman gets all excited because she's from Texas or something. That's me. I'm the woman from Texas in a scrunchie standing in front of a petite little Carrie who's all fashioned out. Except she'll be saying, "Oh, look. That poor woman is from Utah. I can tell by her tights/dress/hair/lack of fashion."
But, on the other hand, I get to eat like a pig and spot famous writers. I promise to keep a log of famous people sightings (on panels that I plan to attend do not count.) And people from past. I think they'll be there in droves.
They better be! I can't wait to see them!