But then Dan went back to grad school and I realized I am still a bit self-centered. Lame. I miss the attention and find myself grumpy that homework is getting more attention, even though I realize it's very necessary. Trying to busy myself with decopaging the door, restaining the other door, varnishing the hand rails, painting and priming the new gate, checking the plants, cleaning the house, walking the dog, watching Buffy, but in the end, none of these things = Dan.
So now I need to find something else to do. I hope I'm not self-absorbed, immature. Maybe it's the working from home thing.....
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Flyers....3...2...1 FLY
We went to Worlds of Fun on Sunday, in the rain. In 50 degree weather. And it was awesome! Something about plummeting at 75 MPH and not feeling your butt touch the seat because of the momentum just does it for me every time. Ahh, the rush of your face peeling back against the wind, not even being able to scream because you're going so fast. That's what sky diving is like.
Sure, after awhile, your head hurts and you can't tell which way is up and maybe you feel a bit queasy eventually. But I love it.
The ripcord was there, taunting me. It said, "Remember when I was so expensive you couldn't buy me? Well, now you're all grown up and you can do it. Let me take you on a ride... please."
I said, "yes, ripcord. yes. I want you to let me fly really f***ing high and it's going to be great." I bounded over to the line like a little kid and signed myself, Virginia and Johnanne for an awesome ride. Johanne and Virginia had done it before, but I was a n00b. Dan waited for me, holding my stuff. I really nearly felt like I should say goodbye to him before I did it, just in case. But there was no time, we were next on the list, getting fastened into a series of chains and cords and suits and me asking if anyone has ever peed on the ride. The answer is yes, but not very often.
Then we did it. We were pulled back into the longest, tallest tower by a giant bungee cord. I started turning red. And it was starting to get really f***ing scary. Honestly, I didn't think it was going to stop at all. But it did. They warned us about getting to the top, and how they would say: "Flyers! 3-2-1 FLY! Then one of us (johnanne) would pull the cord that cut us loose and let us fly across the entire park.
Until we passed the map for the first time, we had to keep our arms crossed, then we could fly.
And fly I did.
It was almost as awesome as skydiving.
Sure, after awhile, your head hurts and you can't tell which way is up and maybe you feel a bit queasy eventually. But I love it.
The ripcord was there, taunting me. It said, "Remember when I was so expensive you couldn't buy me? Well, now you're all grown up and you can do it. Let me take you on a ride... please."
I said, "yes, ripcord. yes. I want you to let me fly really f***ing high and it's going to be great." I bounded over to the line like a little kid and signed myself, Virginia and Johnanne for an awesome ride. Johanne and Virginia had done it before, but I was a n00b. Dan waited for me, holding my stuff. I really nearly felt like I should say goodbye to him before I did it, just in case. But there was no time, we were next on the list, getting fastened into a series of chains and cords and suits and me asking if anyone has ever peed on the ride. The answer is yes, but not very often.
Then we did it. We were pulled back into the longest, tallest tower by a giant bungee cord. I started turning red. And it was starting to get really f***ing scary. Honestly, I didn't think it was going to stop at all. But it did. They warned us about getting to the top, and how they would say: "Flyers! 3-2-1 FLY! Then one of us (johnanne) would pull the cord that cut us loose and let us fly across the entire park.
Until we passed the map for the first time, we had to keep our arms crossed, then we could fly.
And fly I did.
It was almost as awesome as skydiving.
Monday, May 17, 2010
...and the holy grail
I'm not sure what specifically gives MY life meaning. I know other people find it through their kids or their work or their hobbies, or religion or even nationalism. But I haven't yet. Some hobbies are fun, but mostly I just clean the house, watch stupid stuff on the internet and read. It's hard to feel attachment to these things. Of course, sometimes literature provides meaning, or illuminates it, but mostly it confirms for me that life is arbitrary. Maybe it's the books I'm choosing. :)
Maybe my life has a lot more meaning then I've been allowing for though, too. So here's some stuff that I like and perhaps that will help me nail it down.
-like improving the house and lawn
-like the volunteer work we do within the neighborhood
-like the people in my life, though perhaps I don't show enough appreciation for them
-LIKE MONEYYYYY. Yes, it's true. I love the green stuff. I want to make more of it. I want it to be fruitful and multiply so I can do the dumbest things with it. Man, superficial indeed.
It's just that I don't do the value-added stuff enough and instead spend a lot of time working and sleeping. Or maybe that's just the last weekend.
I need to write more, develop myself more, take more time away from work. yessss.
Maybe my life has a lot more meaning then I've been allowing for though, too. So here's some stuff that I like and perhaps that will help me nail it down.
-like improving the house and lawn
-like the volunteer work we do within the neighborhood
-like the people in my life, though perhaps I don't show enough appreciation for them
-LIKE MONEYYYYY. Yes, it's true. I love the green stuff. I want to make more of it. I want it to be fruitful and multiply so I can do the dumbest things with it. Man, superficial indeed.
It's just that I don't do the value-added stuff enough and instead spend a lot of time working and sleeping. Or maybe that's just the last weekend.
I need to write more, develop myself more, take more time away from work. yessss.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
10 days
It's only been 10 days, so I'm not sure why I am so anxious about the admission status. But I guess I figured they woudl review my fiel and just wait eagerly for the GMAT score to come in and then let me know if I made it into the program right away.
It does not work like this.
So, I guess I just have to keep waiting. I check my status every day and keep hoping and hoping that my admission link for acceptance will show up on their site, but every day it says it's not ready.
It's the most exciting part of my day sometimes, wondering what the future will hold for me.
It does not work like this.
So, I guess I just have to keep waiting. I check my status every day and keep hoping and hoping that my admission link for acceptance will show up on their site, but every day it says it's not ready.
It's the most exciting part of my day sometimes, wondering what the future will hold for me.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Marilynne Robinson & Doris Lessing
I've been stalling on reading "Housekeeping" by Marilynne Robinson. It's because I'm afraid! I wept while reading her first novel, Gilead. Gilead won a Pulitzer, and I was altered by it, it was then that I first realized how different, yet rich, life could be if you didn't travel much, if you lived your whole life in Iowa and Kansas, grew old there and died. I read it before we moved or even had an inkling of moving near Kansas, right after my grandmother had died, so I knew I was a bit sentimental during the course of events. It's a story of aging and remorse and dignity and love, of fear, and beauty in the every day life. It's the story of John Ames, a 76-year-old who begins writing a good bye letter to his son, since he has congestive heart failure. His son is only 8 or 9, and this is John Ames's last chance to include everything he wants to send in a letter to his child. John is a minister and his best friend is also a minister, in their small Iowan town, Gilead. John Ames has one person in his life that he doesn't much care for, and of course, that person returns to town and tries to reconcile with him, with disastrous results. You spend most of the book trying to figure out what the person did to make John Ames so contemptuous and the rest of the book trying to forgive and understand. Then you make it to the end, so lovely, and rich, you want to curl up inside of every Iowan aspect of your life. You want visit your grandparent's house and search for the essence of your childhood, the time when you really all did play cards until midnight at age 10 while eating strawberry shortcake and wondering whose turn it was, back when the people you played with were still alive and/or could still remember you.
Even recalling the book, I'm crying! But it has a sequel, "Home", where you see the other side of the story, from the antagonist of John Ames's perspective. The person that has taunted John Ames is his namesake, John Ames Boughton, the son of his best friend. He comes back to Gilead, Iowa, to live with his sister and father and try to make peace with his life. I wept at the end of that book, too, and I must confess it does have a most surprising ending.
I must allow myself to read this book, Marilynne's first, called Housekeeping. It was featured at the library as a National Endowment for the arts reading selection. I'm afraid though, to open that small part of my soul and experience more beauty again. It's easier to keep it closed and far less painful. I will lose sight of everything in pursuit of this book!
Doris Lessing wrote a brief review of this novel, and I feel like I did when I first saw that Marilynne Robinson taught Curtis Sittenfeld: Surprise, yet of course it made sense. Of course Doris Lessing would love this book and of course Marilynne Robinson's readers would overlap with Doris Lessing's. Doris has had an amazing life, and I wonder how two such vastly different upbringings could match.
I wonder if it's possible to go to Sunday church in Iowa City and see Marilynne Robinson. I wonder if she checks her fan mail, if she likes any of it.
ANd, I just tweeted this, but does anyone wonder why they spend their time doing anything OTHER than reading, writing and having sex?
Even recalling the book, I'm crying! But it has a sequel, "Home", where you see the other side of the story, from the antagonist of John Ames's perspective. The person that has taunted John Ames is his namesake, John Ames Boughton, the son of his best friend. He comes back to Gilead, Iowa, to live with his sister and father and try to make peace with his life. I wept at the end of that book, too, and I must confess it does have a most surprising ending.
I must allow myself to read this book, Marilynne's first, called Housekeeping. It was featured at the library as a National Endowment for the arts reading selection. I'm afraid though, to open that small part of my soul and experience more beauty again. It's easier to keep it closed and far less painful. I will lose sight of everything in pursuit of this book!
Doris Lessing wrote a brief review of this novel, and I feel like I did when I first saw that Marilynne Robinson taught Curtis Sittenfeld: Surprise, yet of course it made sense. Of course Doris Lessing would love this book and of course Marilynne Robinson's readers would overlap with Doris Lessing's. Doris has had an amazing life, and I wonder how two such vastly different upbringings could match.
I wonder if it's possible to go to Sunday church in Iowa City and see Marilynne Robinson. I wonder if she checks her fan mail, if she likes any of it.
ANd, I just tweeted this, but does anyone wonder why they spend their time doing anything OTHER than reading, writing and having sex?
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
INSOMNIA
I blame the chai. After spending all day feeling exhausted, taking a nap, taking a walk, and trying to work some more while still feeling exhausted, I thought I would put myself to bed early. The problem is that I can't fall asleep without someone sleeping next to me: Dan.
So I waited until he was ready for bed and now I feel wide awake. But more the tired-wide-awake version, like I'm so tired that I can't sleep. I read some of the cello suites, a really good book, but still couldn't sleep. Read all of my favorite websites for the 1000000000 time, no luck.
Yesterday, the old creep came back to me: the feeling that everything is going so well and that I am so lucky, something bad must be right around the corner. Haha. We can at least laugh that feeling off now. The worst has already happen, nothing more could go wrong. (knock on wood.)
So I waited until he was ready for bed and now I feel wide awake. But more the tired-wide-awake version, like I'm so tired that I can't sleep. I read some of the cello suites, a really good book, but still couldn't sleep. Read all of my favorite websites for the 1000000000 time, no luck.
Yesterday, the old creep came back to me: the feeling that everything is going so well and that I am so lucky, something bad must be right around the corner. Haha. We can at least laugh that feeling off now. The worst has already happen, nothing more could go wrong. (knock on wood.)
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