She's just a little Filomena...

This week was pretty quiet. Classes are ok, well maybe. I get the sense that the students in my 8-week class have given up. Attendance fell off after the midterm exam, participation is limited to two vocal (and smart) students, and there doesn't seem to be much note-taking activity. Maybe I can win them back with the US-Mexico War. Surprisingly, I'm not too upset (usually I take this kind of rejection personally). Perhaps mirroring their lack of interest, I even feel a wee bit blah about the class, too. Not so much the students, but the subject matter. See, I was never trained to teach the first half of US History (pre-1865), actually my focus was the 20th century US West (actually I was never trained to teach at all. It's just something you're supposed to learn along the way). So, I'm not fully comfortable with US History prior to 1865 and I guess I haven't learned how to fake that confidence. I can't just throw my hands up since I'm teaching four sections of the same subject next semester. Yep, four sections of a subject I feel only remotely interested in. Should be one heck of a semester! No, I don't want to sink into sarcasm. Sarcasm isn't helpful when you are 40 pairs of eyes are staring at you. I'll just have to bone up on my early American history during the Christmas break--and look for documentaries.

In Filo news, G. and I took her to the vet today. She was scratching her ear and I thought she had ear mites (yuck). No mites (yea!), but the start of a yeast infection (yuck) connected to her ongoing allergies. G. and I came out of the office feeling like bad dog parents because we don't feed Filo the right kind of kibble and she went into the office with scratches under her eyes (also allergy related), oh yes, and she has tarter building up on her teeth. And we didn't even talk about the fact that she's behind in her shots. Yikes, if I feel guilt over Filo's condition, how am I going to cope with a real baby? Real babies...I can't even imagine. There were three pregnant girls (and I do mean girls) in my 8 week class--I say "were" because one gave birth last week. They look so young to be coping with a protuding belly and having to pee all the time-- I actually have to consciously keep myself from staring, isn't that awful? (of me, I mean, and well, for them, too, in some ways).

I'm feeling a little impatient this afternoon. I think it's because we have a big dinner planned for this afternoon. G.'s parents gave us a gift certificate to Steak and Ale, so nice of them!! Anticipation for meat, meat, and more meat is too great to concentrate on anything else. Which reminds me of another Ren and Stimpy episode where Ren and Stimpy take care of Kowalski who wants a meat on meat sandwich with a meat shake (or something like that). Do they show Ren and Stimpy on Cartoon Network? I wonder if I would still find it so amusing?

I heart El Chuco

I'm starting a new feature on Ness and Filomena that will focus on reasons to Y El Paso.

Today, I'm feeling all warm and mushy about the Sun City because I just finished eating gorditas and a picadillo burrito from my neighborhood Mexican restaurant that truly were delicious! There are similar restaurants all around the city where you can indulge your random cravings for primo salsas, creamy frijoles, spicy menudo, warm just-out-of-the-oven espongas and francesitos, oh-boy much much more. Everybody has their favorite spots and panaderias and best yet, you can buy it on the cheap.

When we lived in Albuquerque, G. and I would long for just the right kind of frijoles. Sure we developed a palate for the green chile delights served up by New Mexican restaurants, especially those one-of-a-kind breakfast burritos. But nothing beats the Borderland's Mexican dishes that are served up any time, any day.

Ren and Stimpy Flashbacks

This is what was going through my head as I was trying to fall asleep last night:

• What rolls down stairs, alone or in pairs,
• Rolls over your neighbors dog?
• It sits on your back, it's great for a snack
• It's log, log, log
• It's log, it's log, it's big, it's heavy, it's wood
• It's log, it's log, it's better than bad it's good!

So, move over important stuff I learned in grad school (oxymoron?), the Log For Girls theme song is claiming some memory space.

Let's All Hope for the Best

I started out the morning just super, reviewing lectures, organizing ever-multiplying piles of paperwork, then I turn on the TV just to watch a wee bit while brushing my teeth and soon enough it's more than a hour later and Rita is on the brain. I just feel dread washing over me. I basically "watched" Hurricane Katrina from initial evacuation warnings to convention center/Superdrome despair and snippets of absolute horror stories to FINALLY help arriving. My level of concern about Rita bringing more chaos and heartache has risen to teal--or "Jesus Christ, bad shit is definitely gonna happen" (it's a six level system, details soon).

The news coverage on those 24 hour channels really doesn't do much to alleviate the worry--which brings up an interesting point I recently discussed in class. What's the line between sensationalizing events like Katrina and Rita and actual reporting? Is repeatedly showing the corpses outside the convention center in New Orleans too much (but it's ok if you show them once, twice?) I see the value in reporting the conditions in the convention center/Superdome because it reveals how inept FEMA and other emergency agencies turned out to be. Let's hope that revelation translates into reforms, but again, where do you draw the line?

It takes some smart viewers to be able to read between the lines--I really hope my students learn those necessary skills as they move through the college system--maybe in my class, maybe not, who cares? as long as they learn something. Critical thinking skills, goddamnit!!

"Picture it, Sicily, 19..."

And for more Golden Girls (and really, don't we all need more Golden Girls??) http://www.the-goldengirls.com/index.html

Can you think of a better caption? Love to hear it :)

I'm ok now.

I managed to avoid posting rants about the disastrous Hurricane Katrine relief effort, the declining situation in Iraq, John Roberts senate hearings, and feeling sad on the 9/11 anniversary, but this article got to me. Crazy how certain things can set you off.

Today is Wednesday, a good day because it means I have only one more day left of my week. A total of three classes, just 4 hours total. Very do-able.

And now I'm pissed

I just read this article from the New York Times and all I can say is What is with young women today???? There are so many quotes in this article that make me want to vomit. How about the one where one guy thought it was "sexy" that his female classmates wanted stay home. Sexy?!

Here's a memorable section

• Ms. Ku added that she did not think it was a problem that women usually do most of the work raising kids.
  "I accept things how they are," she said. "I don't mind the status quo. I don't see why I have to go against it."
  After all, she added, those roles got her where she is.
  "It worked so well for me," she said, "and I don't see in my life why it wouldn't work."

I don't mind the status quo. Of course, because everybody knows women are natural mothers and kind and bad at math and can't fix a flat tire.

Here's another:

• Many students say staying home is not a shocking idea among their friends. Shannon Flynn, an 18-year-old from Guilford, Conn., who is a freshman at Harvard, says many of her girlfriends do not want to work full time.
  "Most probably do feel like me, maybe even tending toward wanting to not work at all," said Ms. Flynn, who plans to work part time after having children, though she is torn because she has worked so hard in school.
  "Men really aren't put in that position," she said.

EXACTLY, Shannon, men AREN'T put in that position and they WON'T be since your girlfriends and Ms. Ku up there are so ready to roll over and accept that it is solely a woman's choice whether to stay home or not. Can you say traditional gender roles??

One reason why I'm totally annoyed with the opinions expressed in the article is the fact that these 18 years olds are so goddamn sure they will live in the financial comfort necessary in order to leave behind that pesky career "experience" and stay home with their children. Or that they will want to leave their work or even that they'll have X amount of children. Well, how fucking nice for them.

Moments like these seriously make me doubt the future of Roe v. Wade.

I must stop and pick this up later--I can better analyze everything with a cooler head.

Here's the rest of the article so you can make up your mind. Many Women at Elite Colleges Set Career Path to Motherhood http://www.nytimes.com/2005/09/20/national/20women.html?incamp=article_popular_1

Serenity Now

I'm still recovering from my weekend funk. This particular funk began when I woke up Sunday morning, hungry, headachy, and pissed about oversleeping. The rest of the day just contributed to the doldrums.

In trying to overcome this monster, I am struck by how sensitive I've become. If something--or someone--doesn't respond to me in an expected way, I automatically interpret it as hostility or indifference that is aimed specifically at ME. Here are some examples:

• What? I can't detect even a note of excitement about having dinner with me next week.
• Why don't you seem interested in my spring class schedule? Take your eyes off the TV for chrissakes.
• I'm offering to make you a special project and all you can tell me is that you don't have any place to put a tea towel?

My happiness books advise me not to take everything personally. Everybody is just trying to be happy, even as they ever-so-politely crap all over you. Since I can't change it, I need to accept it and move on with grace. The "moving on with grace" is tougher than it sounds.

By the way, I really am not one to blame my behavior on PMS, yet I've tracked whenever this kind of sensitive thinking pops into my head and it occurs more often before my period--which, concisely, sucks. Man, I hate, hate, hate to confirm every jerk-asshole's assumption that cranky women are "on their period." It's more complicated than that!

I try to do the "moving on with grace" part in my head, but thinking that much about me makes me feel off-kilter. Hence the blog. Yet,I'm also hesitant to mention anything too intimate for fear of alienating my two readers. So, two readers, forgive the diversion.

Today is a very long day, better get started.

Healthy in time for Friday

Here is Filo's injured paw. It's not so bad, actually. I took her to the vet who said the wound is healing nicely. What a relief.

As for that enormous tongue, Filo was very thirsty coming home from the vet. Amazing how dog tongues can grow to huge proportions.

And me? The sinus pressure and watering, burning eyes turned into a migraine and waves of neausea. Magically--well, with the help of exedrine, all the pain disappeared by 9 pm. The downside? I couldn't fall asleep until 4:30 am. But I'm much, much, much better now, thank you.

The Misery Continues

My sinuses are still the source of much discomfort. My eyes have decided to join in the torture by alternating between burning whenever I blink and tearing up. Sometimes they do both. I took a Claritin D 24 hour pill, which means I'm not up for another dosage for two more hours. Seems like forever.

I've tried concentrating on this evening's lecture--without much luck. Boy, I hate how allergies can knock you on your ass. I was so productive and focused until Monday afternoon when the sneezing et al set in. Now I can barely gather myself up for half hearted attempts at blowing my nose.

One of the worst aspects about feeling sick is that you get so bored just sitting there--nothing interests me, not TV (and I'm never one to turn down TV), books, magazines, embroidery, internet, not even sleeping after a certain point. The novelty of the sick day wears thin very quickly.

Ness and Filomena have a Sick Day

Filo had these little, wriggly nails (the dewclaws if you want to be technical) on her back paws that she would always chew on. They weren't completely attached to her paw, so she would really pull on them. Quite disgusting. The dog groomers offered to pull them out last week and I thought, sure, that'll solve it quick and easy. Well, one paw healed very nicely, no trouble at all, but she kept licking the other one (that paw is her very favorite to chew on). Out of concern for possible infection, I took her to the vet yesterday. She gave Filo a shot and some pills, and wrapped up her little paw with a neon pink bandage. Nothing is more sad than a little pup with a bandaged paw. Injured or endangered animals kill me--I just can't deal with it. I can't even watch those animal 911 shows on Animal Planet and definitely made sure to stay away from post-hurricane scenes of lost/left behind animals on CNN.

I'm taking a sick day (although as a part-time instructor, I don't really have sick days. I think I can officially cancel a class one time per semester.) The first symptons were sneezing and a runny nose yesterday. I medicated with a antihistimine to get through my evening class, which wasn't a good idea because antihistimines make me loopy (medicine head if you want to be technical). Sure enough, I kept missing my place in the lecture and had to keep stopping to drink water. Not the most effective lecture. The left side of my head feels like there is a huge pillow pushing down on it--my ear and teeth ache, eye itchy, nose stuffed and raw. The right side is fine (it's the right side that's able to write) I'm so thirsty and tired--also a smidge guilty for canceling class. G. says they don't pay me enough to feel guilty for canceling class, and if anything, I should do it more often. Ah, always the voice of reason, that man of mine.

Ness and Filomena are going back to bed.

0-0

The Superclasico ended in a draw. Italian soccer fans believe that 0-0 is the perfect score for a game. I can accept 0-0, and will even withdraw my comment about Oswaldo Sanchez--he made several stunning saves. But next year...

Here's the final record:
America 42 wins
Chivas 47 wins
Draws 47

Un rivalry muy intenso...

Today is the SUPERCLASICO!! The SUPERCLASICO is a Mexican soccer event where Club America is pitted against its despised rival, Chivas. America has not lost a game in 6 months; Chivas has just got a new coach and is doing just ok this season. America has the best young goalie (Paco Memo Ochoa is barely 19) in the league; Chivas's goalie Oswaldo Sanchez is quite a shit-talker with an inflated (in my opinion) reputation. Really, it all comes down to soccer hair, in which case America's trim, highlighted, pony-tailed, headband wearing tresses are unmatched. Unmatched I tell you!!

The soccer team you adopt reflects who you are. Maybe. Chivas is super popular among Mexicans in the US because their team is made up entirely of Mexican players; America and other teams sign players from South America. So to support Chivas is to reaffirm Mexican nationalism. Sure I get it, I can respect that. I know America is owned by Televisa who puts a lot of corporate money into the team to sign expensive (and world class) players. But America is our chosen team. We've followed them from bad seasons to campeon. We've watched them play in Estadio Azteca. And there's absolutely no turning back after you own a team's flag.

I'm ready for the Superclasico. America/a ganar!/estoy contigo/oye mi corazon...

I feel overload coming on...

Sundays are busy days for me. I've usually put off a bunch of work and other chores on Friday and Saturday and have to make them all up on Sunday. My to-do list is long and imposing--faced with such a list normally results in overload; in that case, I retreat to the sofa and try not to look at my desk.

G. started the master's program in Spanish a couple of weeks ago and we went to a department party last night. As the "spouse," I didn't have much to say. The party-goers were very friendly and the food was delicious (especially those Argentine empanadas). I felt a bit intimidated because my Spanish is a horrible, muddled mess. Reponses sound perfect in my head, yet somehow turn into a sputtering of words and phrases that barely resemble the articulate group of words I had imagined. I have trouble controlling the volume of my voice, too, so it either comes out too softly or very loudly to emphasize my mispronounciations (mispronounciations stemming from an inability to roll my r's and a buried southern accent). I try to be lighthearted about the whole thing, but my complete lack of language skills shames me. And I live in El Paso for christ's sake!!!

I haven't worked past this issue. It sits patiently alongside other personal issues in a neat row, waiting to emerge during some late night I can't sleep, in a dressing room as I tug at clothes to make them fit, after devouring a cakey-fudgey brownie, or just driving home after class.

Late Night Babbling

I hate when I'm soooo tired yet still stay up only to start thinking about the millions of things I have to do the next day so when I do try to fall asleep, magically poof, not tired anymore. Damn.

It's so lonely to be up late at night and the apartment is quiet. G. is sound asleep, as is little Filo (who visited the dog groomers today--no more tostada chips!--wait is that gross???).

I hate to be awake at night and hear a car roaring down the street (I live off of a very busy main street). What the hell? Are loud Fast and the Furious type cars some sort of youth entertainment trend that I'm too old to understand? Its probably just some new version of classic car worship. I bet anybody who knows anything about cars thinks I sound silly. I know nothing about cars except tire pressure and oil changes.

Hmmm, I've been meaning to talk about happiness. I am in the middle of two (gasp!) self-help books about happiness. I also came across articles about happiness in two magazines that were interesting. It's not that I'm unhappy per se, or at least I'd like to describe it as 'stuck', 'overwhelmed', even 'lonely' perhaps. Ugh, even as I write this, I can't help but feel quite indulgent to be discussing unhappiness when thousands of people along the Gulf Coast have lost everything or their lives have been so dramatically disrupted. The hurricane has made that type of devastation and pain more immediate for Americans, I think. Here's just a sampling of the world's troubles: Iraq war, relocation of Israeli settlers, bombings in London, students taken hostage in Russia, hunger--absolutely horrible events daily cause people to suffer everyday. It is humbling to keep that fact in mind and I am grateful for G., Filo, family, health, air conditioning... Too much of the world's horrors, however, can turn you into a Woody Allen character (Stardust Memories, Annie Hall, Crimes and Misdemeaners, Hannah and her Sisters...)

Hell, it's my blog, I'm going to be indulgent for just a bit longer. I wonder if my age is causing me to define my general state of affairs. I know I'm not "old" and I don't feel old. Do people, once they reach a certain time of their life, have to define themselves, almost like reaquaint themselves with who they have become? This process sounds like such a cliche--something I would usually mock. This phase could be the plot of some poorly written (oh alright, servicable) chick lit. It probably doesn't help that one of the happiness articles was in Glamour magazine.

Did you know you can be happy(ier) in nine simple steps? All it takes is exercise (eh), sleep (damn), simplify your day, set realistic goals, socialize, yada yada yada. I should tone down the sneers, after all, I purchased two books about happiness on my own. The books are helping, little by little. For example, everybody, even the worst of people, are just trying to be happy in their own small and usually ineffective way. Also, we aren't meant to be happy all the time. You are responsible for your own happiness and not responsible for other people's happiness. Perhaps the phrase I am working on is trying to figure out what really matters to me. Its like I know what matters to me, intuitively, but I need to spell it out. NPR's Morning Edition has a version of this exercise with their This I Believe series. I envy how the participants can lay out their beliefs nice and clear (yes, there is editing, I know). I think I need to try to write out my beliefs, values, things that matter. It can't hurt, right?

The eyelids are starting to feel heavy. Must take advantage of oncoming sleepiness.

Ah, about those aliens....

Gabe found my little crane scissors.

Prior to this discovery, I was using the missing crane scissors as proof that I was abducted by aliens. I still don't remember what happened during those few minutes, so I'm not altogether sure I want to totally drop the alien theory. I guess I'm just getting more and more forgetful--forgetful and clumsy. Like a couple of weeks ago, I was trying to get wax out of the carpet with an iron while watching a rerun of Seinfeld and I left the iron on the carpet a little too long and managed to melt a small patch....yep, even Filo had to shake her head at that one.

I wonder what's happening in this head of mine that makes a Seinfeld that I've watched a million times so much more captivating than the application of a hot appliance on nylon carpet.

Stink-o-mena

Poor Filomena is stinky. She was on the verge of smelling, but the rain yesterday and today definitely put her over the edge. Don't let her cuteness fool you; from up close, you get a whiff of gravy (from her dog food), wet grass, dirt, flea/tick collar, and tortilla chips (especially around the paws).

Ah, but who can resist that face?!

It's been a few days since I've posted anything and I actually feel at a loss--I guess this blogging business is sticking to me.

I took over a Tuesday night class, so my workload increased just a wee bit for that day. After three classes in a row, I get so tired of hearing myself talk. But I must be making some sense--students are taking notes after all--or maybe they're noting that Miss looks a little crazy-eyed and has gone off on a tangent about prostitution in the West.

It takes me a week or two to get myself truly into semester-mode. For example, instead of finishing my lecture, I'm checking blogs, news, positioning the satellite radio antenna, taking an early morning nap, and reviewing my lecture. Multitasking at its best!

The news is not good. I don't want to get too much into it, you've heard and seen all the headlines. Hurricane disaster, Iraq stampedes and attacks, gas prices, and much more that makes you just shake your head. I get my news in hour long chunks, then force myself to turn off the radio or tv. Sometimes, I feel like its a relief to talk about the past because at least you know how its going to end. These recent events can make you nervous.

Here's another picture of G. & Filo. They know how to calm a crazy-eyed, nervous me.