Ness and Filomena

Somebody's idea of a joke?

2007-03-03T10:05:00.000-07:00

With G. away, I watched several episodes of The Agency on VH1. It is an absolutely horrible reality show about modeling agents and the models they hate, I mean, represent. All the agents are mean, critical, superificial people who berate these young girls to keep them "hot" in the business. And they are really young girls so they are kind of dumb (like teenagers tend to be--except me, I wasn't dumb ;). The models have such tall, lanky bodies that it is easy to forget they are teenagers. Since they act like teenagers, meaning they don't eat right or go to the gym like they should, the agents pester and insult them in hopes of bullying them into cooperating. One agent is a British woman whose insults are delivered in a crisp accent, which makes them sound a lot meaner (another example, Simon Cowell on American Idol).* The show is unpleasant to watch and I will not watch it again.

I think The Agency has one wee bit of value in that it shows that anorexic/bulimic models exist in large part because of the fashion/modeling business. So trying to address the connection between women's negative body images and the trend of super-super-skinny-bony models has to focus on the fashion/modeling industry itself. That sentiment isn't necessary groundbreaking--it does make the task so much harder.

So what is somebody's idea of a joke? An ad warning about the dangers of anorexia/bulimia aired several times throughout this show. So is The Agency supposed to be entertainment or a cautionary tale? It should not be both.

*Do certain phrases sound better with an American accent?

Uncle ??

2007-03-02T22:06:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling a little lonely these past couple of days. G. is busy with a conference and besides that, we're not alone, there's a Houseguest (a rather pesky Houseguest, in fact; a Houseguest who likes to drink and stumble about and who we find peeing in our bathtub, but otherwise can be quite charming and endearing. But who can forget the peeing?)

Whenever G. is preoccupied with something, I entertain myself. I eat out alone, read almost an entire book in a matter of hours, watch TV shows G. would hate. But then all that gets boring and I miss G. There's no denying how much time we spend together. So, I start to feel lonely and sorry for myself, which is never good for a temperment like mine. Luckily, before it gets too deeply pitiful, G. comes back to me and all is well.

Something that is in the back of my mind these days (and all the extra Me-time brings it to the forefront) is the fact that I'm a jealous person. I'm not jealous of material items (example, I really do not want the expensive purses that are so popular these days). I'm more jealous about people who seem to have companionship or can rely on somebody to do the hard stuff for them(example of "hard stuff," making sure my car's oil is changed). It is silly because I have tried so hard to be independent enough that I can easily do the "hard stuff" and I don't expect G. to do it for me. I'm not intimidated to take on something--and that should make me feel really good. Yet sometimes it doesn't.

I had a friend who used to joke that she wanted a wife along with her husband. Someone to pick up the extra slack (do the wash and food shop) while she went to grad school and her husband worked full-time. In my case, maybe I need a really helpful uncle.

The extra Me-time has me making up family members. That's a little bit pathetic.

2007-02-18T20:40:00.000-07:00

I just finished a book and listened to three super cds and watched an awesome soccer documentary. And I just HAVE to tell you about them all.

Once in a Lifetime is perfect documentary to watch in light of the recent uproar over Beckham and MLS. The doc tells the story of the amazing and unexpected success of the New York Cosmos. The Cosmos were part of the North American Soccer League who floundered until they signed up Pele and a bunch of other well-known European soccer players. In their prime, the late 70's and early 80's, the Cosmos filled up Giants stadium to capacity with screaming, soccer-lovin' AMERICANS. So Americans will watch soccer if the likes of Pele, Franz Benckenbauer, Carlos Alberto, and Giorgio Chinaglia play. Well, who wouldn't?! Unfortunately, it took a lot of money to bring those players over, so the NASL eventually went caput. Mismanagement and overexpansion hurt them, too. Hopefully, MLS won't make the same mistakes.

Now on to music, I've been listening to three super cds--Lilly Allen whose lyrics are quite cheeky and Los Abandoned and Go Betty Go, both punk bands from LA. The last two have awesome Latina singers. The songs are catchy and great lyrics, too! I don't ever buy CDS--truth be told, I'm cheap when it comes to purchasing cds. I don't download either (legally or otherwise), so it is a big deal for me to shell out the money but it pays off when I love the music.

Finally, I finished the fourth installment of the Maisie Dobbs mystery series. I don't read mysteries, but this series is based in London during the interwar years. Maisie has a whole backstory involving class issues (humble background, she was "in service" when her employer discovered she was brillliant and sent her off to school) and World War I's legacy on the British (Maisie was a nurse in France where she was injured. Her fiance was also in the war, but never recovered from his injuries and shell-shock). She is also struggling to be an independent woman balancing career and a personal life and her lingering war trauma. All of her cases highlight some aspect of how World War I basically destroyed a generation. Although it may sound a little history nerd-ish, they are excellent novels with mysteries.

So I've left the wallowing aside for a bit--Valentine's Day chocolate helped.

I am blob, hear me burp

2007-02-15T21:52:00.000-07:00

I've felt so sluggish this week--like really bad. It must be the food I've been mindlessly eating. These past couple of days, no, to be honest, it's been a couple of weeks, that I've indulged in the lower end of popular cuisine and desserts. Once my body gets used to eating food I didn't cook, it starts to crave it. Or I get lazy and don't want to eat anything I have to assemble. What, fresh foods in the fridge?? Yeah, HA, HA. Foolishly, I tried cooking a delicious homemade pizza on Monday. It burned. Gabe brought home fast food.

Now, I'm being punished by feeling absolutely disgusting.

Let's see what I can blame for this mood. There are the usual culprits: hormones (I am PMSing and it hit me hard this time), stupid people, angst that I'm not living up to my potential. And here's a new one: winter weather (I'm sure anyone reading this from the Midwest and East coast would like to strangle me).

Spending a couple of hours laying on the couch like a beached whale hasn't improved the mood. I know saner minds would recommend working out, but too many (legitimate) chores and appointments have kept me from the elliptical machine. Friday and Saturday are out, too, because I'm judging History Day exhibits. To be honest, I'm not quite sure what that entails--fingers crossed that seeing a group of eager, ambitious, young high school students doesn't send me straight towards a milanesa torta (so goddamn good, yet so NOT appropriate right now).

Babies

2007-02-12T18:08:00.000-07:00

I got surprise news yesterday from one of my closest friends. We haven't lived in the same city for about five years now. For being old, close friends, we don't often talk or email. Maybe once a month a quick email or phone call to catch up on things. Still, she is one of my go-to people for instant reassurances, as a voice of reason, and for good 'ol cattiness and gossip.

And now she's pregnant. First time and slightly unexpected.

That news isn't shocking in the old-fashioned way--she's married a year, they dated and lived together close to nine years before that. It's just...wow. For me, this is a big moment, this is an actual child that will belong to somebody I stayed up drinking with until 6 am only a month ago. This is somebody who I can cite multiple examples of irresponsible behavior. Don't get me wrong, she is going to be a really great mom and the baby is going to be beautiful (sometimes they aren't, even though you aren't supposed to admit that).

Like typical me, I can't help but feel a tinge of I'm-not-sure-what. It feels a little sad, a bit wistful. This news comes along with my sister's first pregnancy. There ARE more reasons for my mild melancholy, lest you think I'm longing for a little bundle of my own. This year marks my high school graduation's ten year reunion; I'm turning 29 in November; rather than contemplating life insurance, I'm filling out FAFSA and going back to school; and my parents have become Old People*. So, I'm fighting something that isn't new for me--considering what I am doing compared to what I should be doing at this age, in this stage.

I've always had trouble living and enjoying the Now. It usually is a matter of worrying about the future, dwelling on mistakes, stressing about the details, preparing myself for the upsets. Yet something that is so wonderful as new babies just makes me want to sob. Am I being too sentimental (car commercials have been known to make me cry), or is it ok to allow myself to feel deeply instead of putting it away? Or is it all hormonal??? (I'm partially kidding about the last one).

*Characterized by complaints, grumpiness, cheapness, and always feeling cold (among other things).

Lazy Friday

2007-01-26T17:37:00.000-07:00

Slept in a bit this morning before heading off to the gym. I haven't blogged much about my gym situation (or at least I don't remember blogging about it). I joined up last August and went semi-regularly last semester, then tried to make up for my laziness during the break, and am now settling into three times a week or so. I like going to the gym, even though it reminds me that I'm not happy with how I look now--that's a good-motivational thing, right? It hasn't had much of an effect on my weight so far (perhaps the result of my continuing love affair with brownies and pizza), but I'm trying to be optimistic. What I don't like about the gym is being confronted by exposed boobs in the ladies changing room. All kinds of boobs, just hanging out as their attached bodies put socks on or zip up pants, which makes me wonder why putting a bra on isn't their first priority over pants?? Jesus, ladies, I don't want to see boobs on my way to hanging up my coat. Is this prudish of me? Was I supposed to be initiated into locker room boobs while playing sports in school? Well, it's too late for that.

Class went well. G. and I had lunch at a local pizzeria (we ordered the delicious Four Seasons pizza with four differet toppings, green chile/ricotta, sun dried tomato and pesto, artichoke hearts and red pepper, and spinach and garlic. Yum). We sat next to a group of women who exuded Money. They were definitely Ladies Who Lunched: hair perfect, all wearing trendy boots with fur trim and otherwise fashionable, skinny, made-up, and easily slipping in and out of good Spanish and English-without-accents. I am fascinated by these kinds of women. To be clear, it is not admiration or envy. I don't want to be them. I just wonder how it feels to be so put-together and leisure-ly. I usually don't feel very put-together at all. I usually feel like my slip is showing.

Afterwards, G. and I stopped by a cigar store that was next to the pizzeria where we encountered another fascinating--yet very different--woman behind the counter. She was super nice and friendly and wearing leather pants. I often connect leather pants to bikers and 80's metal hair bands. This woman didn't fit into either of those categories. We did not plan on buying anything, just curious about available foreign cigarrettes, but it was a small store and she was so nice...so we left with a pack of Dunhills. She joked about not wanting to sell us anything after we told her we were ex-smokers. Even with the purchase, G. and I have no plans on returning to the smoking world, although, truthfully, I have nothing but good memories. G. and I proceeded to relive those good memories. Dunhills on a cold day with a latte (mocha for G.)--it was just like when we started dating.

Moms

2007-01-23T09:38:00.000-07:00

G. and I are not morning people. We cling to every last possible second of sleep before fully accepting that sleep just isn't an option if we want a paycheck for work. Interruptions to our sleep are met with angry cries--usually those cries are "FILOMENA HUSH!!!" as she furiously and very loudly barks in the dead of night. Lately, this ridiculous exchange has been happening every night at 2:20 am. Including last night.

Along with that interruption, my cell phone starts ringing at 6:15 am, very annoying since I had fifteen precious minutes of sleep until my alarm at 6:30. I didn't answer it, in protest. It was either a wrong number or my mother, both of which were unwelcome at that time. But then I started thinking, maybe there's an emergency, maybe my dad got into an accident on the way to work, or worse (and worse almost happened during Thanksgiving when my mom left a candle on in the kitchen and it caught fire). A couple of minutes later, G.'s cell phone starts ringing and now I'm sure it's an emergency and my mom was calling G. to get a hold of me (in case you're wondering, we don't have a landline). I find Gabe's phone, but the caller ID says it's his mom calling, so I give him his phone while I check my voice mail. Turns out both our moms were calling at that ungodly morning hour to tell us, "Look out the window, kids! It's snowing!" We looked out the window, then went back to sleep.

The powers that be aren't canceling our classes. My college delayed opening until 10am (which meant I missed my morning class, yippee!), but G.'s is still open. We think they are being stubborn because they canceled Friday for snow-that-was-just-rain. Which is really dumb because today the snow has actually accumulated on our cars, medians, roads, etc, as our moms were nice enough to point out at the crack of dawn.

Maybe our moms need to call the college presidents.

Free Day

2007-01-19T22:54:00.000-07:00

Our winter has gone through different stages: warmish-gee-is-this-really-winter? weather; biting cold, but sunny days; windy, cloudy, kinda cold days; and it's snowing!? days. The weatherpeople predicted that today and tomorrow were going to be the it's snowing!? kind of days. The forecasts were calling for 1-5 inches of snow, rain, sleet, ice, wind--just horrible kind of weather. They advised to buy food and water and fill your gas tank, so this was going to be the BIG STORM. In response, school districts started canceling school and city-county government offices started closing, too. G. already decided that he wasn't going to campus on Friday, but he does teach a Saturday morning class. I have a class at 1 pm Fridays; no big deal, but the campus is across town, a long way to drive in bad weather.

The rain and wind started last night. It was a very unpleasant walk with Filo. More rain this morning, so UTEP and my college canceled afternoon classes. After several more hours of rain, I guess the newspeople thought the threat level had decreased, so instead of snow warnings, it was where's the darn snow?? WE WANT SNOW! SNOW IS NICE, NOT SCARY. Fooled us, I guess. Well, fooled me really. I bought two gallons of water, even though G. and I weren't really sure what buying water would protect us from--frozen pipes? sewer line breaks? snowed in cars? mass looting of grocery stores? In all of those cases, we're ready!

The weatherpeople claim there is still a chance of snow tonight, but I think they're trying to let us down easy. The unexpected free day didn't amount to the completion of any real classwork. We hung up a towel rack and mirror, rearranged some frames on the walls, made white chili soup, and watched three episodes of King of Queens before I took an hourlong nap. I'm not that upset about my lack of initiative. Just a little upset because I didn't get to real important stuff. The stuff we did was sort of important--yet it also should have been completed during our vacation. Oh, fuck it-- I don't know if I'm just tired of beating myself up for not doing things or if total inertia has set in after an extended time home-- I'm through with this.

As for the crown, I think it needs some adjusting. Dammit.

New Semester

2007-01-17T11:52:00.000-07:00

The spring semester started yesterday. So far, so good. They looked interested, asked questions, laughed at my jokes, participated in my "So What Do You Remember About American History?" activity (So what do they remember? Each class was different, but the trend was the American Revolution and Columbus. And nobody named any women until I prompted them). After the first lecture, I'll have a better idea of where we stand. Will I like them or despise them?!

Tonight, G. and I visit our friendly dentist-across-the-border. I was already fitted for the crown; tonight, it will be installed (wrong word, but it sounds funny, yes?). G is getting his teeth cleaned for the bargain basement price of $25 (instead of $185). My crown will cost $180, a price I can very easily live with (I cannot live with the regular price of $900). I feel like I know this amazing secret and I'm stickin' it to the (Dental) Man-- ha! actually, I'm no genius for going to Juarez for dental work. Oh, well.

What I've Been Up To

2007-01-10T23:02:00.000-07:00

1. Snow came along a couple of days after New Year's. It fell all in one afternoon, and melted completely by that night. Better for Filo--she hates the wet.

2. Went to the Sun Bowl with my best buds. M. is from Missouri, so we cheered for the Mizzou Tigers. The Oregon State band was awesome, how else can I describe a band that played such a variety of songs like Green Day (Holiday), Twist and Shout, AND the El Paso song?? (You know which one, Out in the old west Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl...) I mean, really, What a way to win over the home crowd! The Tigers lost in the final seconds of the game. Super game, even if our nearest concession stand was run by bored ROTC guys who never had enough hot dogs.

3. Oh, aren't we cute? For all the grumbling and mini-pity parties (and I'm just speaking for myself), Christmas was perfect with everybody committing themselves to getting along and being nice and thankful. Part of 'getting along' includes playing a couple of bingo rounds with my professional bingo set (complete with ball cage!). It took some prodding among my family, but they had fun (even if my bro-in-law won each time). I tried to be all modest and I-don't-need-a-gift-from-G., but he was astute enough to see through that bullshit and got me a beautiful necklace which I adore. If wanting a gift from G. makes me shallow, then fine I'll accept that. Christmas is a special time, dammit.

4. I spent most of last week watching VH1's non-stop marathon of America's Next Top Model. Crazy thing is by cycle 7, I actually started liking Tyra Banks. Sure, she looked like a drag queen by #7 and she's got an ego the size of Texas and there were plenty of cringe-inducing moments (ESPECIALLY when Miss J joined the panel--let's limit his/her's screen time, ok?!) and the show doesn't really produce top models HOWEVER...hmm, well, the show's redeemable qualities escape me now that I have some distance from Ms. Banks and her crew. I know there was something that reeled me in beside cheap dramatics/hysterics. Hmm...

5. Cleaning the apartment here and there and trying to get myself together before the semester starts next week. I attended a couple of workshops today about encouraging active learners and public speaking. Those tend to motivate--tomorrow is the big department meeting where we hear how registration numbers are up, up, up--unfortunately, our paychecks remain the same. Poo.

All in all, a great break, just the right length, just the right amount of nap, Filo, and G. time. Now let's have a fabulous 2007!!!

Grumpsters

2006-12-21T11:44:00.000-07:00

I feel a bit grumpy this morning. I've been to the malls way too many times in the past few days fine-tuning Christmas presents for the family. My family's Christmas celebration is up in the air since the shingles outbreak. See, the big surprise that was to be revealed on Sunday is that my sister is pregnant (I'm really excited!! First niece/nephew for me!!). The problem is that we're not sure if my newly pregnant sister can be exposed to the shingles. Her doctor is doing some type of testing (I could explain, but it would take too long) to determine if she can be around the shingles. If he says no, then she won't be able to see my parents for Christmas--which would really dampen the holiday spirit. So we've got this really happy woo-hoo news alongside potentially sad news. On the up side, my dad is recovering and the shingles rash appears to be fading. I think they caught the illness early (cases can last several months to a year).

See that silvery thing in the not-so-flattering picture of my mouth? That is the temporary crown the dentist put in on Tuesday. The nice tooth-colored temporary crown popped out while I was flossing (good case for not flossing). I am scheduled to be fitted for a permanent crown next month at the cost of $900. YIKES, FUCK IT! Nope, I have no dental insurance (nor health insurance, knock on wood kids!!) So, since I can't live with the idea of spending $900 on anything other than a new sofa, plane tickets to Buenos Aires, or a mad-cap shopping spree (the last two only in my dreams), I'm looking to Ciudad Juarez to fulfill my dental needs.

There are plenty of people who cross the border (both of them) to see doctors, dentists, and get prescriptions (although the last one is illegal). Earlier this year, I thought about getting the root canal done there. I would have saved soooo much money, however, I have an enormous fear of dentists who speak English, let alone any who speak Spanish. This time, it is just a matter of making a mold, fitting the crown, and making sure it is even with the other teeth. There should be no needles or drilling involved. I could do it, right? Just mix up some plaster of paris and wa-la! a crown. Well, I can't, but I'm pretty darn sure a competent dentist in Juarez can. No need to worry, right?

2006-12-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

I had a post ready discussing how my parents are showing signs of their early-advanced age (what are the early 60's considered? Twilight years?). Then my mom called last night to notify me that my dad has shingles! Shingles?! What the hell? Seemed to come out of nowhere. My sister and I planned a nice brunch for my mom's birthday today, then everybody was coming over to my place to see the Christmas tree, have cake, there was even a big surprise (from my sister, not me). But with shingles--the plan's thrown out the window. I feel bad complaining about how the padres are acting all old. So here's a picture of a super-pissed Filomena who doesn't like her little hoodie one bit.

I'm all Done!

2006-12-10T20:35:00.000-07:00

Exams graded, final grades tallied and posted. Nothing feels sweeter than the end of a semester. Now I've got time for blogging and reading and decorating and organizing. Oh, yes, and sleeping. And I can't forget (although I try to) exercising.

Here's a long overdue meme on Books:

Book that Changed Your Life: This question is tough because so many books along the way have made an impact on me. My choice is The Babysitter's Club, a formulaic series for young girls akin to Nancy Drew. I loved this series in the same way as other girls loved their Sweet Valley High. I literally devoured these books as soon as they were available in the library or my parents gave in to my begging and bought them. They got me hooked on reading, a sort of gateway drug. Eventually, I got bored with the crappy plots and moved on to the classics, like Pride and Prejudice (one of my all-time favorites). The Babysitter's Club books changed my life because they made me the type of reader who will put everything down to finish a book, but also in staying the same, I moved on to bigger and better books.

Book You've Read More than Once: There are lots that I go to for "comfort" reading, but one of my favorites is Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin. I forget how the mystery turns out in between sittings, so it remains an exciting read.

Book to Have on a Deserted Island: Cervantes, Don Quixote. Why? I haven't read it yet; The unabridged version is pretty thick so it should last me awhile; G. loves Quixote (is writing his thesis on it, actually), so reading it will be like having him with me.

Book that Made You Cry: Yikes, lot's of options here since I cry easily (seriously, sad commercials can get me going). The most recent that reduced me to a sobbing mess was Jonathan Safran Foer's Everything is Illuminated. Interestingly enough, I also laughed throughout.

Book You Wish You'd Written: To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Beautiful, lyrical, amazing.

Book You're Currently Reading: I just finished Ian McEwan's Atonement. Kind of a complicated plot, but still engrossing and ultimately very sad. Unrequited love, World War II, misunderstanding--need I say more? Last week, I read The Emperor's Children by Claire Messud. It is part of the post 9-11/New York City/what does it all mean? wave of books (The Good Life is another example that I enjoyed). Although I was unhappy with the ending, the characters were compelling

Book You've Been Meaning to Read: I have a list of books and articles dealing with Latinos and museum representation. Does that topic seem like it came out of nowhere? I'll blog an explanation soon...There are a few interesting autobiographies and nonfiction histories in the library's "just released" section that caught my eye. I also want to find oral histories related to rock, punk, and pop music (will explain later). And I have plenty of fun reading planned, too.

Any suggestions?

The Day After

2006-12-03T13:37:00.000-07:00

We went to a party last night. It was one of those work/Christmas-y type parties where everyone should be on their best behavior, but eventually degenerates into a confused, tumbled conversations and drink. This party was related to G, not me. That might have given me license (at least in my head) to drink just a wee bit more and become a wee bit loud. And (again, at least in my head but corroborated by G), quite funny. The highlight of the party was an ongoing ping-pong game in the back room. The passion shown in that cramped room, among round-robin type teams, impressed and entertained for hours.

We met some very nice people who are involved in literacy programs among migrant workers. It's nice to be reminded that valuable programs like that exist. And cool people are doing good work in the community.

Somewhere after leaving the first party for another location and finding myself devouring a hamburger in a tight booth, I got sentimental and called up one of my best friends who lives out of town. Being out and about doesn't happen too often (Filomena gives us guilt trips everytime), so when it does it reminds of earlier smoke-filled bar days I shared with A and S (and, after we became a couple, G, of course). I called their cell phone to leave a message because it was really late (late to the point of early, if you catch my drift). Then, big surprise, they called me back and I talked to A for a bit about their upcoming visit!

If I were a spiritual type, I might believe that God gave me a free pass this morning on the hangover (as if she doesn't have other things on her mind). What really saved me from hangover hell was that delicious hamburger and fries. Why is the food you eat late-early and drunk-ish always the best tasting food in the world?

2006-11-29T23:38:00.000-07:00

Quick bursts of snow flurries came down as I drove home from class today. Snow to me is exhilarating. It won't stick--the ground is too warm. That's no surprise, this is El Paso after all. I hoped to have real, long lasting snow when I moved to Albuquerque, but it never really happened. I have snow memories from childhood--the little snowy hill next to my house in Kodiak that would still create a thrill with a sled, the bigger snowy hill down the street for bigger thrills, the delightful surprise of waking up to a white yard and driveway. I always felt invincible with snow boots and a snowsuit on. Something about all that extra padding.

Two more days of classes, one week of finals and then sweet vacation time. I'm feeling worn down. Despite my vow to go to bed early, get those necessary eight hours of sleep every night, here I am, four months later, working into the late hours. I've heard that there is no such thing as being a "night person" and you can train yourself to be a "morning person." Unfortunately, I'm just not into that early morning bullshit. This is where G. would say we need to move to a country that starts their day later in the morning, just move the whole day ahead a couple of hours. Gotta look into that. I don't think Filo would mind one bit.

Birthday

2006-11-24T12:47:00.000-07:00

I turned 28 a couple of weeks ago. G. had dinner, cake, wine, and a gift waiting for me as I got home from my evening class. That welcome contributed to me feeling pretty good about the whole birthday issue. Birthdays usually incite trepidation and crankiness, but not this year. I think it's because I have a plan for next year, career-wise. And the article is pretty much finished. Plus, the semester is about over. Nice things all around.

The cake was delicious (For all her lip-licking, Filo never got a slice)

Stay Tuned

2006-11-03T12:21:00.000-07:00

I miss blogging, but there are other more pressing things on my plate right now. I am tired and stressed and not fun. I cut my hair really short--sometimes it looks cute; sometimes, I think it makes the shape of my head look really oval. I recently got contact lenses and my first thought was that I look tired. My birthday is about two weeks away. I'm not excited, even if it does mean delicious cake is coming my way. Two days ago, part of a crown cracked and I have to replace the whole thing. But not for three weeks because my dentist is deer hunting. I want to see the film Marie Antoinette, even though I'm annoyed by Sofia Coppola, mostly because you know when she pulls any old sweater out of the drawer (even a ratty one), it's cashmere.

So, I'm coming back. It might not be for awhile, though.

2006-09-26T22:02:00.000-06:00

So much happening here. Here's the quick version:

Allergies slowing me down, along with PMS (oh, the bloating and hormone headaches suck)
My mullet-in-training will finally be chopped off this Friday. I can't wait! Sometimes a haircut feels so good. I'm going for supershort, gamine type hair-do. It's a gamble, but I've had my hair that short before and G. loves it. I'll post pics.
Something rather traumatic happened to a person I love dearly. Trauma that close has a disturbing effect because it doesn't hit you directly. I'm not really at liberty to discuss it in detail. She is handling it very well, which I'm so relieved to see. Personal challenges can inspire strength--or, worst case scenario, make you fall apart. Jesus Christ, life is hard.
I am procrastinating BIG TIME. Have you ever created a mental block against one particular errand, chore, activity, responsibilty, etc? And no matter how much you try to focus, this mental block prevents you from completing that errand until the very last minute? This is exactly my situation concerning a book review for my seminar. I'm in a funky situation with that class--I'm auditing it, so I don't necessarily have to do the work because I won't credit. But in my initial email with the professor asking if I could audit the class, there was an informal agreement that I would do the work. So I want to do the work and plan to do the work--except for this 5-page book review. I even missed class today-- in all honesty, it was 50% due to the book review and 50% due to coming to the aid to somebody in need (see above). The book review is still looming over me. Yep, it's late. I figure I've got until tomorrow night to email the prof with the review. By the way, I would NEVER extend it that long if I was taking the class for credit. Meanwhile, the mental block has me blogging and listening to Sirius radio online.

I guess that's it. Back to staring at the keyboard and willing my fingers to type something coherent out.

2006-09-14T12:04:00.000-06:00

Well so much for speed blogging.

These past few weeks were really overwhelming. I feel only slightly less overwhelmed right now. Plus, today is Thursday, which in my mind, is practically Friday, so I'm moving into weekend mode. And, fingers crossed, my workload will allow a few hours of me-and-G. time this weekend. We need it.

Adding to my busy schedule is my twice-a-week foray into Group Fitness, i.e. Cardio Salsa. The class is structured like a dance class, so we do fun cumbia-salsa-merengue type moves. This past Monday, we learned a new routine (or at least new to me) that was less Latin-dance and more jazz-hands and shake-your-booty. I love it, the moves are fun. It doesn't feel like I'm exercising and, slightly embarrassing confession here, I've always wanted to be a dancer. My family talks about how I was alway jumping and moving about as a kid. Now I love dancing at parties and doing silly moves with Filo in my arms (I doubt she loves that part as much as me), so this is right up my alley. I think I keep up pretty well considering I'm new to the class and never took a real dance class in my life. A group of women are really, really good. And skinny. Good dancers and skinny. Actually, what I try not to focus on is that all the women in the class are pretty thin. G. says I'm exaggerating. Boy, I wish I were. Even discounting the two gross-skinny older women (bone-thin, bump-into-them-and-watch-them-crack thin), everyone else is smaller than me. Another thing I try to not focus on are how those wall-to-wall mirrors make me look in my work-out gear. Looking back at me is an image that doesn't meet my mental picture of Me. I don't expect to look like a beauty queen while sweating. At the same time, I don't like the way certain areas seem...pinch-able (perhaps this makes no sense, bear with me)

What all of this amounts to is that I'm trying hard not to let all the skinnies, muscular, athletic types who roam the Gym and my class intimidate me or make me feel bad about myself. So far, so good. I follow along the best I can and proceed to thrust my hips side-to-side and sashay corner-to-corner with attitude.

And by attitude, I'm referring to the John Tavolta up there OF COURSE. Actually, I'm more Finola Hughes than John Travolta. You get the picture.

Also, I've seen Saturday Night Fever and Staying Alive more times than I'm willing to admit.

2006-09-11T12:45:00.000-06:00

I'm procrastinating big time. I stopped by my mom's house this morning on the way home from class and it put a crimp on my morning momemtum. So far, I've watched a little CNN, read NY Times online, then trolled from site to stupid site. I really don't feel like working on lectures or reading; I'm only good for napping at this point.

My head feels heavy after taking allergy medicine. The monsoon-rain has pretty much stopped, but we're still feeling the impact with millions of fearless mosquitos and late season allergies. Classic symptons plague me: itchy eyes and throat, runny nose, sneezing. Plus, I have itchy ears--this unpleasant itchiness deep down in my ear, a horrible sensation really because you can't reach the itch. It work me up last night. My mom thinks it might be ear wax.

I installed the satellite radio in my car now and bought a new atennae, so I'm getting my Howard fix again. Today's show was a rebroadcast from the morning of 9/11. It took me back to the uncertainty and utter, complete sadness of that morning. I have avoided 9/11 memorial stuff in the past. I should have done the same this year.

Yikes, sorry readers, today is all procrastination, sadness, and ear wax. Definitely a Monday.

Blogging in the 505*

2006-09-03T14:51:00.000-06:00

G. and I (plus 2 more) drove up to Albuquerque yesterday. This visit is not really a vacation because I have research to do for my article. I'm looking through my old research files and other sources for images and maps of the neighborhood I wrote the article about. Unfortunately, I'm not having very much luck finding recent images or maps. I also just spent a rather frustrating hour or so scouring the library shelves for a book and coming up with nothing. This has happened to me in the past, as if books purposely lose themselves whenever I need them. As a (n indulgent) sidenote, I looked for my thesis. I've got a call number all my own!!, but couldn't find that it either. Books hate me.

Albuquerque is a cool, unique city. Last night, we ate a delicious meal at the Martini Grill (loads of ambiance) and had a drink at the best bar in the world, The Anodyne. This morning we ate at the famous (at least in these parts) Frontier restaurant where it's all about the flour tortillas and honey. Now, I'm sitting in one of my favorite coffee shops among kooky Albuquerqians who love their wire-frame glasses and extra laid-back attire. The weather is cooler, like fall has already started here, so everyone's wearing a mix of shorts, sweaters, tees and scarves. It does feel a wee-bit weird to be among so many Anglo Americans in one spot (Anglos are in El Paso too, of course, but they are more spread out).

We witnessed another aspect of Albuqueque last night. Behind our hotel, practically outside our window, three police cars drove up to deal with some guy beating up a woman.

I guess you gotta take the bad with the good.

*505 is Abq's area code.

Mind Over Body (the bad version)

2006-09-01T11:23:00.000-06:00

My mind and body don't get along very well. As a matter of fact, the mind often totally ignores signs the body sends. But the body gets revenge.

Example: Last night, G. invited a fellow new grad student and his girlfriend over for dinner. They just moved from the interior of Mexico and are having a hard time adjusting (the university bureaucracy alone has been a nightmare). Plus, we are all salivating for our paychecks at the end of the month, so they could use a big meal (besides their reported diet of beans and rice). I got out of my evening class, they got out of their evening seminar, so dinner got to a late start. By the time we sat down, I was already slightly headachy from hunger and being tired. Nonetheless, a glass of red wine sounded really nice along with the lasagna, so G. poured me a glass. Everything moving along quite nice, headache at a bearable level, so I have another half-glass. For postre, we had one of my top dessert favorites, brownies with thick fudgy icing. Couldn't help myself, ate two small squares, even though I was full. It was around 1130 when they left and I still had to shower before bed, which left only about 5 1/2 hours for sleep because an evil spirit took over my mind last spring and agreed to 8 am classes every day of the week.

In the span of three hours, I experienced 4 classic headache triggers: tired, then not getting enough sleep, red wine, and chocolate. Wait, I forgot to mention allergies and I'm on my period.*

I woke up with an unbelievable headache. My headaches waver between cluster headaches, hormone headaches (thanks birth control pills!!), sinus headaches, and migraines. I think this one might have been a combo of all the above. Drag myself out of bed late. Slap on make-up while eyes water uncontrollably and the side of head feels like it's being pushed in by a vise. G. takes pity on me and feeds and takes out Filo, while I try to slurp down cereal and keep from moaning pathetically. It did cross my mind that I could cancel the class, but I only get ONE DAY for sickness or whatever (thanks EPCC!!) and it's the second week of classes. I've lectured with a headache before--I'll admit, it's not pretty.

I manage to get to class, lecture for 45 minutes and make sense, and talk to a student afterwards. Then it hits me in the car: neausea. Luckily, I carry grocery bags in my car (thanks Mom!!), so no mess.* I make it home (across the city, 20 minutes, I must add) and stumble into bed for a couple of hours. My sure-fire headache cure is two Excedrin, a coke, and sleep.

So now that I can process thoughts and sit-up, I'm left wondering what happened. Well, I know what happened because this is not the first time mind/body decided to go on strike. This morning was the body reacting to what the mind thought were great ideas last night even though it knows very well awful, horrible things could happen. Bottom line: listen, listen, listen. Can't we all just get along?!

I'd like to blame society for teaching me that my body is an alien being to hate (i.e I'm so fat), modify (i.e. plastic surgery), and abuse (i.e. fast food). Sure, that's part of it. But I KNOW better.

*Too much information? Too bad.

2006-08-31T14:53:00.000-06:00

I'm afraid you guys might be disappointed--this may not look like a mullet, but there is length and shagginess. Let's call it a mini-mullet, or a baby-mullet, or how about a mullet-in-training??

Hot News

2006-08-29T20:55:00.000-06:00

I think I'm growing a mullet. It still looks good in the front, but I'm worried about the back.

Must make that appointment for a haircut!

Forget the System, Here's the Solution

2006-08-28T22:03:00.000-06:00

In my journey to get healthy (i.e. lose weight), I joined a gym nearby. It was a wee bit expensive for me--just another added cost that seems extravagant as I wait semi-patiently for my paycheck. But, oh, the health benefits. G. says that's what I gotta focus on.

I go to Cardio Dance class, excuse, Cardio Dance "group fitness." The moves don't feel like exercising, which is exactly what I need to get my lazy ass off the sofa. Plus, it's fun. Really.

2006-08-26T14:26:00.000-06:00

Do you ever have one of those days where everything is moving along just fine, then suddenly, the whole world turns sour?

My day has become the equivalent of pure lemon juice.

2006-08-23T22:49:00.000-06:00

It's barely Thursday??!!

2006-08-22T22:38:00.000-06:00

I really should be in bed, but I have my To-Do List to compile. I live my life with lists.

Anyway, I'm gonna tell you a story. Picture it: August 2002. A cramped, dark room with a bunch of chairs crowded around two big tables. Those chairs are filled with graduate students ranging from early 20's to mid 30's, some looking a little frazzled already, others cool as a cucumber, all a wee bit wary of each other. I sit in the corner of the table, partially hidden by another student. This is the second week of my first year of graduate school. And I'm scared.

A grumpy yet brilliant (University of Chicago alum, oo-la-la) prof enters and proceeds to wow the class with sharp analysis of the readings. These readings discussed political philosophy, political history, liberalism--that is, I think they had something to do with one or all of those topics. It's not time that made this memory fuzzy, it's the fact that I didn't understand a damn thing. These readings caused great concern and angst. I proceed to panic inwardly for the entire three hours of the seminar.

I left thinking I might have made a grave mistake.

Luckily, I soon got over feeling like a simpleton and learned to live with the sense that everybody knew more than me because frankly, some of my fellow students did, but a lot of them did not--they just knew how to fake it.

I brought this story up because I am auditing a public history seminar and today was the first day of class. Even though almost three years has passed since I finished grad school, I still felt panic-y and nervous as I scanned the reading list and requirements. But then, those feelings passed and I felt pretty darn comfortable.

Good sign.

Join the Revolution!

2006-08-21T21:25:00.000-06:00

Today was my first day as a commuter. Before the move, I could take back streets to get to campus. Now, it's all freeway. Luckily, no traffic or accidents or recklessness (although I did see some lady on a cell phone. I expect to see that pretty frequently) or inclimate weather. Unluckily, my cd player is on the fritz. I drive while NPR's Morning Edition and All Things Considers is on the radio, but lately, those shows just aren't holding my attention anymore. They can be so darn nerdy. Sometimes I'm embarrassed to be listening. I'm also tuning out because of the abundance of depressing news that is reported everyday. From Iraq to immigration to gas prices to Bush--nope not much to feel good about. I know that's the wrong reaction when times are tough, but sometimes you need a break from reality.

This is where the Howard Stern show comes in.

G. and I spent the summer listening to satellite radio--actually, listening to the Howard Stern show on satellite radio. This may come as a surprise, but I love Howard Stern. It's so stupid and juvenile, yet hilariously funny and entertaining at the same time. I was initiated into Howard at an early age (exactly what his critics are afraid of, I'm sure)--junior year of high school to be exact. Then the local radio station took him off and the Howard dry spell set in. We don't get a good signal on the satellite radio here, so I'm hoping to move it into my car and keep listening. That's exactly what I need for the long drive.

Move over nerd radio.

2006-08-20T19:40:00.000-06:00

Wow, a full year has passed.

I feel accomplished for keeping up with my blog. I really like having a space all my own to record whatever strikes my fancy. I have met really cool people through their comments on Ness and Filomena and added their blogs to my daily reading list. Thanks to all who read and comment. I really appreciate it!

I revisited my first post to remind myself why I started this blog. Those sentiments still ring true (even though I never got around to posting "fiction tidbits"). I want to try something new--G. called it Speed Blogging (italics denote speediness). I will blog everyday for a maximum of ten minutes, then another five or so to read, check, and comment on other blogs. Entries will be supershort and probably super random. On the otherhand, I think the blog will be more current.

These changes also coincide with the start of the fall semester tomorrow--very busy times with lots of possible stress and freak-outs, so I need to keep the blog outlet open.

Alright, Speed Blogging starts tomorrow! Have a super Monday, kids.

Happy (belated) 1st Anniversary, Ness and Filomena!!

2006-08-20T19:11:00.000-06:00

First Attempt: I'm trying to direct G. in how to use the camera.

Second Attempt: Filo is distracted, but I look good (hee, hee). By the way, that calendar you see in the background was a gift, I swear.

2006-08-17T11:31:00.000-06:00

The rain is back. We had a few days of clear, hot weather. Yesterday, storms across the city and Southern New Mexico flooded low-lying neighborhoods again and small towns like Hatch, New Mexico (where the green chiles are grown).

I almost got caught on the freeway during one of the worst episodes. I had a meeting at my campus across town at 10, then visited with my mom for a bit. I managed to get home, unload my car, and take Filo for a quick walk before the rain started pouring in the windows (I had just opened them). Filomena was barking and running around as I ran from room-to-room closing windows and mopping up. As soon as I finished with the bathroom window, I notice that we had a leak in the bedroom right over the dresser. A few of G.'s books got wet, the carpet--it was really coming down in a steady stream.

Rain is still in the forecast for the rest of this week and some of next week. Everybody is definitely over it, although a nice side effect is the cool weather.

Bad Vibes

2006-08-15T21:16:00.000-06:00

I couldn't sleep last night. So I stayed up reading Strange Piece of Paradise. It's not my usual kind of read--the book covers the author's search for the man who tried to kill her and a friend while camping in 1977. It took the author 15 years to head back to Oregon and investigate the case. Turns out the entire community and the police knew exactly who did the crime, but there was never an arrest. The man went on to beat and torture his wife and girlfriends, sell drugs, and just be a horrible, horrible person until finally serving some jail time for threatening somebody with a gun. The author looked into other cases of violent crimes against women to try to understand criminal behavior. She also looked into how the legal system changed over time to protect victims rights.

It was a creepy book. Not the kind of book to read after moving to a different part of the city and living next to complete strangers. I do live in one of the safest cities in the US, yet still, the possibility that something bad could happen is very much lurking in the background. And I can't overlook the fact that I feel extra scared at times because I am a woman. I hate reading and hearing how that vulnerability is exploited so easily and frequently.

The book got me thinking about my own friend who was murdered some years back. The investigation and trial was heavily publicized. The different townspeople in Strange easily remembered that traumatic event and I think that would be true here too. Something dawned on me after finishing the book--the significance that my friend's murderers were convicted. Justice was served. The system worked. One victory while so many cases go unresolved.

I don't know how to feel yet about that. Strange's author took fifteen years before looking into her own case. It hasn't been that long for me, so maybe I'm still processing the experience. My head hurts tonight, though. Sleep will wash away these bad vibes.

Scenes From a Move

2006-08-11T22:02:00.000-06:00

Jesus Christ, we're almost done putting our shit away.

Alright, it's not shit by any means, of course. By this point in our mission to Get Organized, however, anything and everything seems expendable. Two pairs of jeans I hope to fit into again someday? Chuck it. Nice bowls and serving dishes that come out with company? Toss 'em. Kazillion kitchen do-dads? Fuck 'em.

Our wonderful possessions somehow multiplied like rabbits in the three years since we moved back to El Paso. Prior to these past two weeks, I had a devil-may-care attitude about my living space. Moving to another apartment or even out of town seemed like a piece of cake. Just a matter of throwing Filomena and her three beds into the car, pack up some books and my antique chest of drawers and LET'S GO.

How silly of me.

Somehow we've acquired books and pieces of furniture and linens and lamps and extension cords and who-the-hell-knows-what-else. They are all so very necessary, you see. And yet, they all weigh oh-so-much and take a long time to put away.

I didn't start crying until Wednesday. We were in the old apartment, cleaning the kitchen, laundrycloset, vacuuming. I could not understand why it was taking us forever to do these few chores, It was almost as if G. and I were utter slobs who never cleaned anything ever (which we aren't, really we aren't). About four hours in I found myself sitting in the bathroom in utter despair. I shed a few tears (my eyes were already watery with the dust) and quietly bemoaned my fate for a few minutes. And then I dragged myself over to kitchen to clean the sink.

Even then, beneath the self-pity I knew I was overreacting and being ridiculous. That ridiculousness was affirmed later that evening. The local news reported a story about a woman whose home was partially destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. She had moved whatever belongings she could salvage into a storage place in West El Paso. Last week, the waterflow off the mountains and floods washed away the back wall of the storage place and took most of those possessions that managed to survive the hurricane. They are now strewn throughout a ravine. She was planning on moving those items into her new home this week.

So, now I feel like an asshole.

Rain, Rain Go Away

2006-08-04T09:04:00.000-06:00

El Paso dried out a bit the past two days. Rain is still in the forecast. Officials are now worred that a dam about a mile away from the border in Juarez is going to break, so 1,500 fled South Side last night in fear that dam might burst.

I feel so bad for El Pasoans and Juarenses who are stuggling to get water and mud out and salvage their belongings. G. and I are extremely lucky that our families live in the relatively dry part of town. It's such a random thing--the Eastside gets flooded in rainstorms too, but this time the Westside and Northeast got the brunt of the damage. I gave information about donations to the Salvation Army to my students yesterday and lectured them on community responsibility. I don't care if I sounded preachy (and coming after a lecture on civil rights and the power of mass action, it probably did); this is a crisis here and now where they can make a difference and see the impact.

We had to change the date of our move. As feared, the occupants of our new apartment couldn't move in time, so the apartment won't be ready till middle of next week. Since we basically lost our moving help, we decided to hire movers. What's funny about this turn of events is that as we notified our families about the change, you could actually hear them trying to stifle their relief at not having to carry our possessions (including the 10+ boxes of books)--the bastards. Ha, I don't blame them. G. and I practically danced with joy.

Summer school is finally over. Jesus Christ, it was a long two months. I think I offer too much extra credit. Oh well.

P.S. The pictures are from my doorway. Filo accessed the scene and basically said, "No way Jose."

Storm 2006

2006-08-01T18:11:00.000-06:00

El Paso is in the middle of it's "monsoon" season, usually a welcome relief from 100 plus degree weather. Today, monsoon turned into Storm 2006 (so dubbed by local news channels).

The rain that has been falling since Thursday is overwhelming draining ditches and the Rio Grande. El Paso usually gets 8-10 inches of rain a year; some parts of town got that much just since Thursday.

Everything seemed ok this morning when I left for class. In the middle of my first class, however, a student notified me that EPCC was closing all its' campuses. G. and I are hooked on the news coverage of flooded homes, roads, ditches--there's a lake on I-10!

Filo is extremely unhappy. She refuses to go out in the rain to pee or poop. I don't blame her actually.

Besides Filo's imminent constipation, G. and I haven't suffered much from the rain. We aren't totally scotch-free--we're scheduled to move to our new apartment on Saturday. And that new apartment just so happens to be located next to one of the flooded areas (two of the pictures are near our street). I'm not panicking just yet--highly concerned, a little headachy when I consider the boxes around me, but no panic.

I'll keep you posted.

2006-07-31T22:45:00.000-06:00

Be nice to yourself...rent Caddyshack ASAP. G. and I saw it this weekend and it's Hil-ar-i-ous.

We're living among boxes and suitcases. I find myself incorporating them into my daily activities--the box next to my desk is a handy surface for paperwork, the box in front of the TV makes a nice backrest.

I have a feeling this happy cohabitation is not going to last. Thank God we're moving this Saturday.

BFF

2006-07-29T13:02:00.000-06:00

My oldest and dearest friend A. was in town this week visiting her family. She is hardly ever in town anymore (busy with work, remodeling house, etc) and lives too far away for me to jump in a car any old weekend and visit. It sucks.

We've known each other since middle school, but as members of different girl cliques, we weren't really friends. I (of course) was part of the less materialistic and cooler girl clique along with S., my other bff. A. and I bonded while enduring tortuous 10th grade geometry with the borderline pervert Mr. M. (seriously, how do people like him become high school teachers? Everybody has one or two or three in their high school experience who are so inappropriate.) Along with S. and another girl, we became invincible through 11th grade American History and yearbook, honing our cattiness on lame-ass students and teachers and exploring Juarez nightclubs.

Our friendship goes much farther than high school, into UTEP and personal crises of the early twenty-somethings. She can frustrate me like no other, yet at the same time, I know she's always on my side even during my most irrational moments. I love her visits. The rare times A., S., and I get together are truly golden moments, too. Never do I feel more understood or can be as open as with them (besides G., but that's a different relationship). I hope one day we get to live near one another; maybe El Paso will lure us back...

I've heard that the friendships you make in your 30's are never quite like friendships made earlier. I wonder if that's true.

P.S. Have you all rushed out to get your copy of March? While you're at it, pick up The Good Life by Jay McInerney. It's about how traumatic events like 9/11 make people reevaluate their lives, but not always follow through. Really good.

2006-07-24T16:28:00.000-06:00

Two more weeks of summer school. Attendance was a little low today. My lecture went well--the Cold War is this week's topic. Planning on showing some clips from Atomic Cafe. It's a documentary that pieces together clips from newreels, TV shows, cartoon, photos from the Cold War-atomic age of the 1950's. Funny, but scary footage. I like to compare the gas masks and Duck and Cover footage to the duct tape, plastic sheeting, and gallons of water craze from right after 9/11. Remember that??

I'm anxious for summer school to end so I can prepare for our big move. We are moving to Westside EP. There are lots of pluses and minuses to the move: we're closer to UTEP, farther from my campus; closer to good restaurants, farther from our families; we lose the washer/dryer, gain another room and more closet space. And there is the actual moving part, like the packing and renting truck and hauling shit around. Never fun, makes me want to do some heavy cleaning and editing of our possessions. Like I don't really need that waffle iron, right?

A Few Books I Read This Summer

2006-07-22T00:36:00.000-06:00

On Beauty, Zadie Smith
Gatsby's Girl, Caroline Preston
The Simplest Game: An Intelligent Fan's Guide to the World of Soccer, Paul Gardner
I Chose to Stand and Fight, Margaret Cho
Smashed: Story of a Drunken Girlhood, Koren Zailickas
March, Geraldine Brooks

Out of the whole bunch I HIGHLY RECOMMEND March. The main character is the missing father from Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. He heads off in 1861 to serve as a chaplain in the Union Army, then as a schoolteacher for freed slaves. That story intertwines his young adulthood with being an idealistic, Transcendentalist, abolitionist married family man. I can't do justice to the amazing story that unfolds concerning relationships, idealism, and war. There are twists (but believable ones) until the very last chapter. I wish I could read it all over again for the first time.

I'd write more, but it's late and tomorrow is another dose of early morning tortue--uh, I mean yoga.

*PS. My list reminds of a reading program from elementary school called Book It. You got to put gold stickers on this big, ugly Book It button with so many pages read, then the major reading prize was a coupon for a free personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut. Yum. Probably contributed to my current pizza-monster status.

Have I lost everybody?

2006-07-22T00:08:00.000-06:00

I have returned. I might sound like a broken record when I say I've been busy. Sure, everybody's busy, right? Maybe I needed a little break from blogging, or at least the typing-it- all-out part of blogging. I've been blogging in my head the whole time, trying to work through my writing and researching issues and the daily grind of summer school. I was feeling frustrated with my blog entries, too. This blog was never supposed to be something to stress about, but I wanted to be creative and funny and witty and fabulous--you know, provide some entertaining fodder for my three readers out there--and that wasn't happening.

The desire to mull over the inane, provide excrutiating details about the everyday, and brag about the #1 cutest dog ever, Filo-Filomena, drew me back to the blog, so here I am. After all, where else can I wax on about delicious varieties of pizza?

2006-07-11T01:29:00.000-06:00

Wow, two weeks since I've blogged. I vowed not to blog until I finish my article revisions and, well, it's taking me this long. And I'm still not done BUT the end is near. I think...

2006-06-25T22:25:00.000-06:00

Amazing article on the Argentina/Mexico game from the International Herald Tribune.

Argentina 2, Mexico 1: An otherworldly day finishes with a bang

2006-06-24T15:36:00.000-06:00

Mexico just lost. I am sad--proud, too. I thought Argentina would win this game right off. But the Mexican players performed and delivered--all of them played so hard.

Disappointment stinks.

There's No Crying in Yoga

2006-06-24T14:22:00.000-06:00

My sister and I signed up for Pilates and Yoga classes this summer. Pilates is twice a week, yoga on Saturday mornings. I like both, but I think I like Pilates a little more. Anyway, years ago, I found a great yoga instructor and began practicing regularly at her studio. This was during my skinny-fat stage. I'm not sure if that had any influence on the fact that I was actually pretty good at the positions and flexibility and balance. But then I moved out-of-town and I really disliked the new teacher who (I swear) had an attitude.

Well, you all know about me and my body issues (perhaps a little too much). So getting back into yoga after so long is challenging because I am not at the same level as before. Problem is, I am not a patient person in particular situations, nor do I easily give up just because of a little muscle pain. Last week, I was sore at that part of the leg/thigh where it meets the lower stomach (alright, on me, the lower gut) due to this weird hip-flexor movements in Pilates. I was dealing with the soreness, not complaining or anything. Unfortunately, the yoga instructor decided to focus on sitting positions (straight back, thumbs touching at lower back, stomach in, chest out, legs straight in front of you, foot flexed, knees down), just the kind of positions that stressed my already-stressed thighs. My frustration level grew along with the burning feeling. Contributing to that frustration was my teacher who made no mention of modifications for the position (to make it a little easier) and took her sweet time working the room making corrections while everyone else held on for dear life. I purposely settled myself on the side of the group so I wouldn't feel competitive with anybody. Other people weren't the problem. It was my stubborn brain competing with my body--a relationship already fraught with resentment and dislike. Thirty minutes of standoff between my brain saying DO IT and my body saying LEAVE ME ALONE.

I can't throw a ball, I absolutely hate running, I will never, ever opt for exercise over a nap. Yet I'm realizing that exercising is not all about physical abilities. Hmm, turns out, I'm not so great with the mental part either.

Luckily, with each moment of discomfort came an inkling of relief as the muscles loosened. And, the soreness was completely gone a few hours after the class. AND today's class was the first time where I felt challenged, but not defeated.

Maybe my brain and body agreed to a cease-fire and are one step closer to peace.

Soccer highs & lows

2006-06-23T00:25:00.000-06:00

The US is out. I watched the game yesterday with a nervous feeling. They had to win in order to move on. Unfortunately, the team just didn't seem to be on the same page. They showed bursts of expert playing--passes completed, forward attacks, and then...not much. Except for that goal--hope returned! One more goal was very do-able until that penalty-from-nowhere and Ghana scored. 2-1 going into the half. One goal do-able, two goals against a team who would inevitably turn super defensive, hmmm...

So, where to spread the blame? Some blame the players--which reminds me, where was Donovan? It was sad to see Reyna leave the game with an injury. American players have talent and athleticism, but maybe having limited exposure to European level of competition prevents them from gaining higher level professional experience. Much blame placed on Bruce Arena for mismanaging games. He did seem to delay key substitutions and I don't like how he called specific players out after the loss to the Czechs. I think he deserves loads of credit for holding onto the coaching position for 8 years and building the team and talent. In the long run, his contributions shouldn't be overshadowed by this disappointing finish. Is it time for a new chapter in coaching? I think so.

Now, did the US deserve to move to the Round of 16? Tricky debate. Based on how the US played in their 3 games, my vote is no. Really, every team in the World Cup deserves to move on by the basic fact that they qualified. Whether or not a team actually does, well, it's not about the FIFA ranking or that happened in the last World Cup, it's about performance and delivery. Ghana delivered, as did Australia and Ecuador (all teams who weren't predicted to do well). Sure, there are teams who moved on with so-so performances (Mexico, I'm thinking of you. And the Americanista in me feels compelled to point out that Omar Bravo, who missed the penalty shot in the last game, plays for Guadalajara). Hence the fickle and unpredictable nature of the World Cup. In the end (as I've so often heard and read), the game can be won or lost as it is being played.

I'm already looking forward to the next round starting on Saturday. I'm going for Ecuador who I think has a chance against England (really!) and Australia who also has a chance over Italy(double really!). I'd love to say Mexico will win over Argentina, but based on the first round... no. Ghana and Brazil...another no for Ghana. Argentina and Brazil are way too strong. Hey, who knows, I could very easily be absolutely wrong. Just gotta tune in and see.

A Few Quick Notes

2006-06-20T19:13:00.000-06:00

I'm cooking up pasta before G. gets home, so no time for the topic that has been weighing on my mind for awhile now...my thoughts on pizza. I love pizza and think I'm quite an expert on the delicious little meal. I was going to do this whole thing on frozen pizza and still want to...someday. Wish I could say my article revisions have kept me busy, but no--more like a cross between World Cup and these goshdarn summer school classes. They seriously are driving me crazy. I've finally settled into the pace and feel comfortable with the students. Sure it took me three weeks and these are the last two weeks, but better late than never??

G. and I had our first argument related to the World Cup, more specifically, whether the US team could be described as playing "well" in their game against Italy. I said yes, they played ten times better than the first game. G. said no, bringing up the fact that the US hasn't scored a single goal, got their one goal by sheer luck, and should not move ahead into the round of 16. I said that's the nature of the World Cup and one of the many reasons why it's a fascinating phenomenon. There's more to the story, like me feeling that G. was patronizing me, which I'm super sensitive to and whenever I sense it, I tend to overreact. Soccer is the first sport I've shown any interest in and actually have researched (tactics, players, teams), so I think I know a thing or two. And I would like to share that thing or two with others and be taken seriously. Is that so wrong?

Well, I've gone World Cup cukoo. And there are still a couple of weeks left. These next rounds are even more exciting because they are elimination rounds. I'm excited. Maybe you aren't excited and wish I would move to other subjects like Filo's latest encounter with a cat or how I almost started crying in yoga (out of frustration, which is so wrong because yoga is all about not judging your own abilities). That stuff is coming. Promise.

Let's hear it for Ghana!!

2006-06-17T12:04:00.000-06:00

Wow. G. and I just finished watching the Ghana/Czech Republic game. What an upset! The Ghana win makes the rest of Group E's games very interesting. This game reinforces the idea that anything can happen in the World Cup, especially when underdog teams like Ghana take on a team like the Czechs. The Ghana win inspires hope for the upcoming US/Italy game. Sure, the US were in a coma in the game against the Czechs, but an underdog can beat a powerhouse. It won't be easy. The Italians are expert players, they are fast, defensive, aggressive and they are in the running for The Best Soccer Hair Ever. For a greater understanding of how important soccer hair is to a team's success, see this article Bleach It Like Beckham. (Argentina has great hair, too. Related to their success, Hmm???)

Before the World Cup, I couldn't watch two soccer games in a row. Of course, those games were from the Mexican soccer league, so the excitement and skill level was a little low (no offense). Since the World Cup started, I've been watching as many games as possible. There is so much to see and study and follow, no matter what teams are playing. And you see such beautiful, graceful moves. It is the Beautiful Game, no doubt. Just watch highlights of the Argentine goals against Serbia & Montenegro. Especially the pass backward (technical term????) that resulted in a goal. Yesterday, G. and I saw repeats of that backward pass at yesterday's El Paso Patriots game.

I haven't decided which team I want to move past the next round of 16 yet. I want the US to play an awesome game, of course, and would like to see Mexico pick up the pace, too. I want the American non-soccer-watching public to appreciate the US team's efforts in such a competitive, pressure situation. Whatever the case, the US/Italy game will be another opportunity to watch some amazing plays. I'm so excited!!!

Here's a great blog from a soccer expert/reporter, Roger Cohen, The Beautiful Game.

Anxiety

2006-06-12T07:53:00.000-06:00

I got a three page email of comments for my article. The hard copy is totally written up with copyediting notes. I am trying very, very hard not to feel overwhelmed, which leads to feeling incompetent, which leads to me doubting I can handle graduate school again. I just have to remind myself that if publishing an article was easy, then everybody would do it.

I wish it were Friday already.

Join SPEBSQSA today!

2006-06-11T23:42:00.000-06:00

I found this tidbit in a local newspaper. Check out the group's former name:

Border Chorders — The El Paso men’s barbershop and a cappella group rehearses at
7:30 p.m. Tuesdays at University Presbyterian Church, 244 N. Resler. Director is
Bob Calderon. New singers are always welcome. Information: Dave Meier,
751-9617. The Border Chorders are the El Paso chapter of the Barbershop
Harmony Society (formerly known as the Society for the Preservation and
Encouragement of Barbershop Quartet Singing in America, or SPEBSQSA).

SPEBSQSA has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

Vamos al mundial!!!!!

2006-06-11T22:55:00.000-06:00

I can't believe I haven't posted about the World Cup. It started on Friday and I am obsessed. Alright, maybe not obsessed--preoccupied? Whatever the case, I followed two games on my laptop Friday while my classes were doing group work, watched all the games I could yesterday and today. I would watch all the games this week if it weren't for pesky work, which is taking way too much of my time.

I encourage anybody to watch a World Cup match, even if you are have only a slight interest in soccer. Strange and wonderful things happen during these matches--weak teams endure attack upon attack without faltering (like Sweden/Trinidad & Tobago on Saturday), strong teams make amazing single plays (Argentina/Ivory Coast). The games are really exciting with expert announcers speaking in Spanish. ABC/ESPN aren't so bad, but you get a lot of World Cup "fun facts."

And Mexico won today! They still have a lot of work ahead of them, still, a win is major. Lavolpe does know what he's doing...

What can I say? I love it! Tomorrow is a big game for the US. They literally MUST win against the Czech Republic (not so easy). Unfortunately, I'll be in class. Tonight, I have to finish writing an exam. Summer school is tiring.

More soon, good luck US team!

Hello Stranger

2006-06-04T05:02:00.000-06:00

I never meant to be away for so long. I thought I would post a lot during my mini-break from classes. Instead of the deep lounging that usually takes place during vacays, G. and I were busy with some important stuff, but a lot of unimportant stuff got in the way, too. We ended up having people over a lot, staying up really late every night, drinking, eating-not-so-great, and alternating hours of laziness with more hours of being really busy. On the eve of classes starting up again, we both felt exhausted and unprepared.

Do you ever go through phases of treating yourself really badly? Maybe not intentionally--neglect just builds up over the weeks until you just feel like absolute shit? That was me last week as I adjusted to lecturing for four straight hours everyday, Monday thru Friday. It wasn't so much the lecturing that got to me, but having to be prepared to lecture for the same class everyday. All of my lectures are written out, but there is a lot of lecture revision and setting up video segments and slideshows. I'm not so experienced to lecture off the cuff about both early and late US History--I need outlines, I need to review the outlines and the textbook. During a regular 16 week semester, I have more time to do this prep work. Summer classes are four weeks only, so the pace is quicker.

My own (sad little version) of a rockstar lifestyle caught up with me and now I'm suffering from a cold. I should be asleep, but cold medicine does funny things to my head, like make have super weird dreams and what-the-fuck?-hallucinations. I finally had to get up and try to clear my head--literally, with kleenex after kleenex, and figuratively, by getting back to blogging.

Following Joel's brilliant model, I'm going to offer up a confession to make up for my absence. It's not a sleazy confession by any means (see Joel's blog for that little nugget), it might even be considered sweet. Anyway, my confession is that I still have a blanket from my childhood and I still sleep with it. I never named it or called it anything other than 'Blanket' for the 27 years that it's been with me. Blanket was my constant companion as a kid. There's a classic story of my parent's having to drive back home an hour into a roadtrip because I forgot my Blanket and was crying inconsolably in the backseat. I was 15-- HA! JUST KIDDING, I was 8. By now, Blanket is not much more than some fluff and bits of material in pillowcase, but I just can't let it go. I remember this family friend who suggested that my parents and I cut a piece of Blanket off every night and throw it away in order to get rid of my dependence. At the time (hell, even now), this idea was absolutely horrible. Blanket is my ultimate comfort, waiting patiently for me by my pillow whenever I have a migraine, feel fat and ugly, if my lecture fell flat, when I seriously wonder what the hell I'm doing, if G. ever acts like an idiot (rare, but we all have our moments, no?), or if I just want to nap. By now, I don't travel with Blanket or take it with me in the car or anything. But, I don't ever feel truly comfortable and ready to sleep without it. Really, wouldn't we all be much better off if everybody had a Blanket?

Stay tuned for news about my new hair-do, the World Cup (5 days, 4 hours, 10 minutes to go), a new segment called "This Week in Pizza" (I eat it every week anyway and have some strong opinions that must be shared with the blogging world, if only to make them semi-legitimate and not just the rantings of a pizza-fanatic), and lots of cheesecake pics of Filomena.

2006-05-18T19:06:00.000-06:00

There's so much to blog about. Last weekend (i.e. The Busiest Weekend Ever) was crazy--so much to do and see, so many late nights, and OH HELL! inclement weather in El Paso, we're talking thunder, lighting, pouring rain and hail. G. and I found ourselves right in the middle of a flooded road and golf-ball sized hail. It was scary-ish.

We attended the big UTEP graduation ceremony on Saturday, plus a smaller honors ceremony on Friday. Inexplicably, both lasted two hours even though the big ceremony had 700 students and the smaller had, maybe a quarter of that (probably less)--really could have done without the rendition of "One Moment in Time." Ordinarily, I am so sentimental when it comes to stuff like graduations. I can't help but feel excitement and anticipation and pride and a big dose of nostalgia. Even I couldn't sustain that level of mawkishness through two ceremonies, crowds, and hot weather. It did get me thinking, though.

Please indulge me by rewinding, oh about five years to my own graduation, December 2001. I had just finished a really tough semester. I was a teaching assistant who still had about 100 exams to grade and, at the same time, was trying to navigate around my psycho co-TA. I wasn't getting along with my best friend. Actually, I thought we were ending the friendship totally, which is not an easy thing to do after eight years. So that was maybe closing at the same time that my relationship with G. was taking off. A couple of months earlier, I informed my parents that I was moving in with G.--who was in Albuquerque--meaning I was moving to Albuquerque. SURPRISE! Besides that, I needed help moving out of my apartment and then moving up to Albuquerque. DOUBLE SURPRISE! I think all of my earlier kooky antics broke in R. & G. enough to handle this news.

In a nutshell, for me, graduation meant lots of changes. I already knew I was going to graduate school in the fall, so career wasn't such a major worry. Everything else, though, just everything seemed to be different. I felt independent and free, yet had to learn how to become part of a couple. And I was moving, too, and would soon meet new people and be put in new situations.

Let's just say it was like a season finale for a tv show. Some loose ends tied up, a few doors close, doors open and all that.

The Busiest Weekend Ever*

2006-05-11T18:19:00.000-06:00

*No joke. I've got one last stack of exams to grade, plus paperwork bullshit to fill out by Saturday. G.'s sister and my cousin graduate from UTEP this weekend and there's a ceremony tomorrow night and Saturday afternoon. Plus, a friend from out of town is visiting. And, it's Mother's Day on Sunday and I need to buy something unique for my mom (actually, forget unique, there's no time! it's pj's again this year!)

I need a nap.

2006-05-10T00:24:00.000-06:00

I'm in the middle of finals week, which is actually stressful for me what with all the grading. My college has crazy grade deadlines. All grades must be turned in by Saturday. Problem with that requirement is that I have two finals on Thursday. I guess it isn't a problem if you give multiple choice exams, but no, I've got to give a shit about these kids' writing abilities and so test them with short answer questions and essays. Yeesh.

Aside from grading, everything is turned upside down. G. and I are regularly staying up really late and having to get up early. Mealtimes are random and the apartment is looking cluttered. Filo smells and has turned grey around her paws and tummy. This type of disorder always happens towards the end of the semester. Luckily, we've got a two week vacation to clear and clean things up.

Another drawback is that I'm having a hard time keeping up those positive feelings about myself. Could just be the sleepy V. talking here (or maybe the hormonal V.) Sometimes it stinks to be a woman.

Long Overdue Pictures of Filomena

2006-05-10T00:19:00.000-06:00

Do you know what you really look like?

2006-05-03T16:07:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time, oh, about four years ago, I was "skinny-fat." Meaning I was relatively thin, wore small sizes, but I also didn't have much of a figure, no muscle tone, did not exercise, and ate whatever I wanted. The skinny-fat status changed after the Summer of Beer (2001) segued into a long, unhealthy fascination with fast food (2002-2006). My level of concern ("concern" is a nice term, it's more like horror) rose along with my weight. One of the worst feelings in the world is when your beloved, broken-in jeans stop fitting. Multiply that feeling with t-shirts, blouses, sweaters, skirts, shorts at home and (gasp) in dressing rooms with bad lighting. Blah.

Oddly enough, my mental body image didn't really change after the twenty or so pounds were added. So it's like I never internalized the changes my body went through. I only recently (like last December) accepted the fact that I have a rather largish bottom (and only after a brutally blunt tia called me--oh this is so embarrassing--nalgonas).

I know it's no surprise that countless American women suffer from a warped body-image. It's a BIG surprise to me that I'm one of them! I'm pretty "with it" on feminist issues. I'm fully aware of how the media distorts and misrepresents women's bodies--I minored in women's studies, for chrissakes'! In short, I should know better.

I think most people don't know what they really look like. It's pretty easy to overlook that bulge in the mirror or ignore that feeling of tightness from clothes (the first hint, really, to either lose a little or move up in size). Maybe that's why so many people dress so badly. One of the quick fixes on TLC's What Not to Wear is for people to chose clothes for their body type. That's hard to do if you don't know what your body type is in the first place. Helps explain the "muffin top" phenomenon.

So just the other day, I found this website while reading a Washington Post article about swimsuits http://www.myvirtualmodel.com/ You plug in your measurements and height, even chose your hairstyle and skintone and wa-la! a virtual model. It's you, or at least pretty close to you. G.'s said my model was accurate. It's not as bad as I had feared, but it also wasn't the image in my head. For example, I thought I had longer legs. Guess not.

As many qualms as I have about this body o'mine, I wouldn't go back to skinny-fat. I'm healthier now: eat less meat, more organic stuff and whole grains, stopped smoking, curbed the drinking. Even my half-ass exercise routine is better than absolutely no exercise routine. It's time to accept Me-Now and put Me-Then away

This week was a (blank) kind of week.

2006-04-28T23:57:00.000-06:00

A. Obsess-about-my-body
B. Not-get-a-lot-of-sleep
C. Stress-over-my-future
D. Eat-a-lot-of-chocolate
E. All of the Above (my choice)

What kind of week did you have?

2006-04-24T23:42:00.000-06:00

Work on the article is progressing very very slowly. I hope to get the entire thing finalized tomorrow and just send the bastard off in whatever shape. I promised something by the very ambiguous "end of April" and dont' want to seem like a flake. Fortunately, there is time for revisions--I think.

Unfortunately, I'm subbing for another instructor after my morning class. I just have to proctor an exam, so no big whoop. And I get a $25 bonus next month!! Woo-hoo!! Party time!!

Filo is darn cute these days. I'll post new photos tomorrow to provide the proof.

The Good and the Bad

2006-04-23T16:57:00.000-06:00

About two weeks ago, I received an email from professor D. at UNM. I was D.'s TA one semester for the History of New Mexico course (oddly enough, I TA'd for this specific class almost the entire time I was in the graduate program. I know more about New Mexico than I do about El Paso or Texas even. Go ahead, ask me anything.) D. is also the editor of a history journal and his email requested that I rework my master's thesis for an article in an upcoming issue. Great opportunity, right?! OF COURSE, I responded. Publishing would be a nice bonus to my cv. And it would be really cool to see my work in a journal for the first time ever. Wow. That's the good part.

So I'm supposed to have a version ready by the middle of this week. Although "revise thesis" was #1 on my To-Do list since that email, I don't have anything ready, which brings up something that I've worried about for awhile now. (Yeah, here is the bad.)

The problem isn't necessarily procrastination or laziness. I mean, those two are the definite culprits behind not cleaning my humidifier (on hold for a month), fixing a broken curtain rod (on hold since last year), or filing away old bill statements (on hold since December). It doesn't quite explain how I managed to complete everything else on my To-Do list except "revise thesis." Sadly, "revise thesis" turned into one of those items that float from one week's To-Do list to the next. "Revise thesis" resides right above "investigate graduate schools" (on hold, I'm ashamed to say, two years).

So what is the problem? I think it boils down to fear and lack of self-confidence.

I'm scared that my article will need too much revision and won't go into the next journal issue (essentially, I will fail at producing a publishable article).
I'm scared that I don't have the skills to write anything that works.
I'm scared of misrepresenting my thesis subject and mishandling the research.
I'm super scared that I will get so bored and frustrated with the revisions that I won't want to research, write, or revise anything ever again, even though that's exactly the type of work I'll be expected to do when I go back to grad school, which has been the big career plan all along since I left UNM. And if that plan doesn't work out, THEN WHAT THE HELL WILL I END UP DOING????

I've worked out all of these fears in my head, but, again, there's a difference between knowing self-defeating behavior and knowing I need to change that behavior right away. I'm frozen in inactivity--seeking comfort in AMC's weekend marathon of Godfather movies and frozen Snickers. Those two methods of legal self-medicating have not worked (no big suprise).

It doesn't help that the apartment is hot and stuff and the AC isn't cooling properly.

Writing about my fears has helped. Talking with G. helps, too. Unfortunately, the uneasiness is still here.

Maybe I don't know

2006-04-23T16:31:00.000-06:00

G. and I have a lot of work to do this weekend. He's working on a research paper and I'm trying to get my lectures organized for the last two weeks of class. It's getting close to "crunch time" (I really don't like that phrase). I'm trying to "pick up the slack" (another dumb phrase) by going grocery shopping without him and cooking dinner every night. It's only a temporary arrangement--our usual arrangement is that we alternate the cooking and washing dishes every other night. It's horrible to admit that I have this little gnawing feeling of resentment for doing so much extra stuff. I know this is not a permanent arrangement. I know that feeling this way is silly. I know I'm just overreacting.

There's a difference between knowing and really knowing...ya know?

Escuela de futbol Cuauhtemoc Blanco

2006-04-22T16:20:00.000-06:00

Anybody who is even slightly familiar with the Mexican soccer player Cuauhtemoc Blanco will really enjoy this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3r0rCqGp9o

Who knew soccer players could be such drama queens? America is playing a really important game right now against Atlante. Losing would end any chances of making the playoffs. Alright, altogether now VAMOS, VAMOS AMERICA!!!! ESTA NOCHE, TENEMOS QUE GANAR!!!!!!!

2006-04-20T22:48:00.000-06:00

(I wrote this entry Thursday night and now I'm not sure how to change the date...)

Mella of The Empty Sky recently wrote quite eloquently about how vivid memories of specific moments run through her head at certain times. You know the type of memories: quick snatches from the past, charged with emotions and visuals that transport you directly back in an instant. Some make sense, other moments seem inconsequential and silly.

I've been thinking about memories lately, too. Last week, my mom, sister, Filomena, and I visited the cemetary in Juarez where my abuelo and abuela are buried. We cleaned up a bit and put new flowers, then just sat around to think a bit. I remembered sitting around their kitchen table on a hot day, drinking coke out of glass bottles (always tastes differently than the coke sold in the US). I'd be slurping up mango pieces while my mom nibbled on the mango pitt--my abuela always had mangos in her house--I like to think they were just for me. I was usually quiet around the table--my Spanish is not great, but I did understand all the family chisme passing back and forth between my mom, her sisters, and the abuelos. Cousins usually dropped in on their way home or to work. I felt like I was really part of the family, like my abuelos loved me as much as the other grandkids, even though I spent most of my childhood far away from them.

There are other memories that plague me, memories that abruptly insert themselves into my daily life. These moments are not quite so nice as the abuelos kitchen table, nor do they come about at appropriate places like cemetaries. Instead, they pop up and pop away, lasting just long enough to leave a bitter taste. Little, unpleasant reminders of my own past embarrassments or instances where I hurt loved ones.

Easter = Candy

2006-04-16T21:59:00.000-06:00

G., Filomena, and I spent the afternoon at my parent's house. My sister and her husband were there, too. For some reason, we don't often get together the bunch of us, so today was special. We ate steak, baked potato, pasta salad, and (yum) sausage.

After dinner, we watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Good movie...rather intense and a little confusing. The movie was also a little long, it seemed like three hours long. It could have just been the fact that we were sitting in a stuffy room with no clocks (my parent's house has a scarcity of clocks).

G. and I cleaned up on Easter candy--marshmellow Peeps, chocolate covered Cadbury mini-eggs and M&M's, Snicker eggs, Cadbury eggs (you know the ones, with the gooey, too-sweet-center) and jellybeans. Oh, boy. I think all the candy + figuring out the movie's plot + stuffy room + steak dinner made my head fuzzy. I should just shower and head straight to bed.

I'm such a lapsed Catholic that to me, Easter is primarily equated with awesome candy. I do think that's a little sad. But at the same time, Easter means seeing my family; wouldn't Jesus be happy about that? I have tried to get into the whole Church-mass deal again. Hasn't worked out; I just don't like what I hear in there. Maybe I need to investigate other faiths, although my mother would just die at the very mention of changing faiths. I was very interested in converting to Judaism while in high school. Not sure exactly why. I'm very embarrassed to say it might have been related to my interest in Woody Allen movies. Oh, wait, I know. While in mock trial (another embarrassing tidbit), our team had a lawyer-advisor who was Jewish. He even invited me and two friends to his parent's house on the pretense of learning more about the faith or to celebrate Passover (I think). Funny thing is, we didn't do anything connected to Passover. We did meet his mother and sister. I bet his sister (in her 30's) had no idea why her brother (in his late 30's) would invite three 17 years olds to his parent's house I'm wondering the same thing now! Anyway, we were enthralled with him as a confident, wealthy (his parent's lived in the very, very nice part of EP) grown-up--and a Jew, I suppose. We asked him all sorts of questions about his life and work. He was a good sport in answering most of them. He tried his hardest to come off as suave, which we thought was sooo funny that he would try to impress us. Best of all, though, he thought us mock trial-ers were hilarious and smart. Made us feel important and not like 17 years olds at all.

Oh, dear, I've digressed. I blame the sugar.

2006-04-12T17:40:00.000-06:00

I'm feeling blah today. Part of my sandal broke. I'm a little bloat-y. I had to stay an extra hour on campus (I don't have an office, either) to meet a student and then he didn't show up. I should be on the sofa, napping and moping. Instead, I'm defending undocumented workers and immigration reform on Asi Es. Jesus, that discussion reminded me why I don't write posts about politics or read political blogs. I can't handle it, man, from living in a Jon Stewart/Daily Show-All Things Considered/NPR haze to reading something I disagree with so much I can't stop thinking about it.

Back to puppy dogs and naps.

2006-04-08T00:04:00.000-06:00

Filomena, like her beloved dog mom (me), likes to nap. Here she is yawning after a particularly enjoyable stretch on the sofa.

I deserve this, bitches

2006-04-07T23:12:00.000-06:00

Woke up with a headache.

Maintenance man came by to unclog our kitchen sink drain and clean out the garbage disposal. I don't know how the garbage disposal became clogged because I don't use it. It's a mystery to me and G. exactly what's supposed to go into a garbage disposal--neither of us had one in our childhood homes (or,just to be accurate, G.'s family never used theirs, or something like that.) Could someone be kind enough to explain the purpose of the garbage disposal? Is it better for the environment?

Had a semi-productive conversation with one of my classes about handling the responsibility of being a college student. The drop date is coming up, so it's time for those who are failing and/or struggling and/or totally not paying attention to the class to decide if they want to drop the class and receive a "W." The other option is to stick it out and, hmmm, actually study, attend class, and read the textbook. I explained how to estimate the minimum grades they need to earn for the last assignments to bring their grade up or stay where they are. And I tried to find a nice way to say that some grades were so low, there was no hope.

Came home, ate quick lunch, then tried to get my car emissions inspection. Went to the quick oil change place down the street, but they were working on a truck and I'd have to wait 45 minutes. So I came home and then went back. About five minutes into the inspection, the guy tells me that the tint on my windows were too dark. Absolutely ridiculous and absolutely frustrating because I bought the car with that tint already on. But it's even more ridiculous because my old car, a classic (I use that term loosely) '96 Ford Escort hatchback, had super dark tinted windows (again, I was not the original owner and therefore not responsible for the tint) and I got through those inspections just fine. Well, I did have to take it to a small garage place in central El Paso, BUT STILL. This car does not have dark tint. Period. State regulations be damned.

So I took the car back home without the inspection. On the way home, I passed by a car with much darker window tint than me. Humph.

When I got back home, Filomena's eyes were really red and kind of gooey--at least one was. I checked the semi-informative dog book for a hint as to what might be the problem. It's semi-informative because under the heading "Eye Discharge" it basically says, "If there is eye discharge, see your vet." No hint if this eye discharge is a major problem or not. So, rather than take any chances, Filo and I left for the the vet in the late afternoon, just so happens to be their busiest time.

The office was hoppin'. Big dogs, little dogs everywhere. Some gimpy, others ant-sy. Filomena took it all in stride. Big relief because she usually turns into that annoying, yippy, small dog everybody hates (you know the type). Filo was a little shaky, though, as we waited and waited and waited. We were delayed by a dog that was hit by a car, so I'm not going to complain. Some lady next to me was visiting her sick pooch. She told me the vet thought it was poisoned, horrible, right? Who would poison a little puppy toy poodle? Well, it turns out that the lady herself might have made the dog sick by feeding it Girl Scout cookies. I wondered if she confessed to the vet?

Turns out that Filomena's eye gunk was the result of allergies. She got some drops and allergy pills and her vaccinations to boot. The vet gave her a dog treat at the end. Usually, Filo doesn't eat it, but this time she was eager-like, "I deserve this, bitches." (Sometimes I imagine Filo's response to different situations. Usually it involves curse words. It's just funny that a little fluffy darling dog would refer to me and the vet as bitches, don't you think?)

After the vet excitement, returned home. G. made a yummy dinner (salad and little pita pizzas), but I got a tummy ache. Speaking of tummy ache, have you heard about the new yogurt that's supposed to make you regular? Key ingredient is bifidus regularis. Sounds made up, huh? Well, it is! At least the name is. Go ahead, google it, you know you want to. What else do you have to do? You're reading my blog after all, so you can't be that busy!

Was that combative? I'm sorry. Today has gotten to me. It's time for bed.

Daylight Savings Sucks Big Time

2006-04-04T11:13:00.000-06:00

One thing I most value is sleep. I'm a gal who likes eight hours a night, plus naps (at least 30 minutes) sometime during the day. Without adequete sleep, my mind is muddled and headachy, my eyes are bleary and sting. I'm cranky and sluggish. It's not pretty.

The time change this year snuck up on me (I was preoccupied trying to figure out what that map was all about on Lost). The past two days have been hell. As if to make up for the difference, G. keeps saying, "It's 10:30 on the clock, but it's really 9:30." Works in the beginning, but soon we'll have to face the change and adjust somehow.

It's just so hard.

Rally Draws to a Close

2006-03-31T16:33:00.000-07:00

Rally Draws to a Close
Originally uploaded by NessandFilo.

More pictures!

Cesar Chavez Rally

2006-03-31T16:30:00.000-07:00

San Jacinto Plaza, Downtown El Paso

Si se puede!

2006-03-31T15:57:00.000-07:00

Today is Cesar Chavez Day, so community college had the day off. I decided to celebrate the holiday by attending a rally and march in downtown El Paso this morning. The event was to recognize Cesar Chavez, but it also was very much about the recent immigration debate. People in other cities have been rallying against immigration legislation being reviewed in the House and Senate in the past week. Protest first reached El Paso this week in the form of high school students walking out of class. There have been walkouts for about three days; today, those student protesters joined up with this downtown rally/march.

One local news channel emphasized how many of the students didn't know who Cesar Chavez was or didn't understand the immigration issue. I'd like for reporters to ask various adult El Pasoans those same questions and compare the results! They seem hell bent on portraying the student protestors as rowdy and ignorant. I've read emails sent to the station's website that overwhelmingly are against the walkouts and demand that these students be punished.

I think it's exciting to see young people show interest in a pressing national issue. As a community college instructor, I yearn to see students get excited about anything at all. I try to inspire my students to think critically about historical and curent events. This type of thinking shouldn't just start in college because, frankly, many Chicanos aren't even getting to college. High schools need to work on waking up young people and encouraging them to ask questions, read the newspaper and figure out how the issues affect their lives. The student protesters took that last step and chose to show their outrage through peaceful protest. Even if they don't initially understand immigration reform or know of Cesar Chavez's accomplishments, the rally's speeches and banners will educate them in a way that standardized exams never will.

The energy of the crowd at today's rally was special. Rally's aren't enough, though, and I'm glad that many speeches encouraged everyone to take up this issue with their elected officials. There are plenty more national issues that directly concern Latinos. Maybe immigration can open up those for debate, too.

Love & Marriage, 1999

2006-03-27T16:17:00.000-07:00

While ironing this past weekend, I watched My Best Friend's Wedding with Julia Roberts circa 1999. The movie felt dated by 2006 standards. For one, JR uses a cellphone that is enormous in size and looks like it weighed a lot, especially in comparison to the little ones we have today. Besides the cellphone, JR's character makes a deal to marry her best friend if neither are married by 28. JR doesn't look anywhere near 28 in the movie, but nevermind that. It got me thinking: Was 28 the age people expected to get married for the late 90's? Seems awful young. And, hey, I'm almost 28!

I don't think 28 is the prevailing marker for "spinsterhood" anymore. It's been moved to at least 35 or late 30's--I think Sex and the City definitely played a role in the change, but that's another post.

I realize the age thing in the movie is to help the plot move along, which is that JR's best friend is marrying too-perky-for-words Cameron Diaz. JR realizes she is losing her safety net husband, so she moves in and tries to disrupt the wedding. We learn that JR's character has always had trouble with men and relationships, never had one longer than two weeks. She uses men, is a bit of a cold fish, and used all the extra time to focus on YES, YOU GUESSED IT! her career. She embodied the perfect woman for the best friend and even Cameron Diaz, but perfection and career doesn't keep you warm at night, soooo comedic hyjinks follows as JR tries to woo the best friend back.

The movie devolves into your basic women-MUST-marry-to-feel-fulfilled-yada-yada-yada formula. Even the film's soundtrack emphasizes this message. Songs culled from 50's, 60's girlgroups are a major part of certain scenes. Perfect example is the opening montage of a group of (brunette) bridesmaids worshipping at the feet of a (blonde) bride while singing that "Wishin and Hopin" song.

In the end, JR does not end up with the best friend, he marries Cameron Diaz. She ends the night dancing and laughing with the friend/confidant who would be perfect if only he wasn't gay. Too bad.

Some sort of warning should be attached to the film's opening credits: Little Girls, beware! Working on your career doesn't mean you sacrifice love, or vice versa. You don't have to give up yourself in order to couple!

Unfortunately, I don't think anything has changed in the seven years or so since the movie came out. Same expectations, only now you get a couple of more years before feeling like a loser

Oh yeah, that's why I shouldn't drink...

2006-03-25T16:53:00.000-07:00

I am moving towards the end of a very slow recovery from last night. My stomach feels a little queasy, my head is heavy, I keep yawning and my eyes hurt.

A few weeks ago, G. and I ran into a friend from college, J. We lost touch about three years ago when I moved to Albuquerque and she moved to California. It was such a nice surprise to see her. So yesterday afternoon, she calls me up to join her for happy hour at some place on the Westside. It was totally unexpected and spontaneous. I decided to go despite heavy Friday traffic to get across town. G. stayed at home with Filomena.

I get to the bar and her group was finishing up with the happy hour. J. and I chatted about what she was up to, what I was up to, it was really fun. We decided to have dinner and then she would meet one of her friends to go someplace else and I planned on heading home at that point. Over dinner, J. and I talked a little about UTEP and shared grad school experiences. She dealt with an advisor FROM HELL who made her program really difficult and created all sorts of problems and conflicts within that department. The real tragedy is that this professor is a very well known Chicano/a historian who is a huge advocate for getting more Chicanos through grad programs. Turns out, at least from J.'s experiences, she is not very sympathetic to students that work with her. We talked about how disappointing it is as a young grad student to deal with professors who turn out to be jerks. I mean, they are like any other group of people, but for some reason, I expect more from them.

Talking with J. reminded me how much I miss my friends in Albuquerque and my two best friends who live elsewhere. I hate to use the phrase "girl talk" because it wasn't really "girl talk" (we didn't talk about eyeshadow and tampons, for instance) J. is an awesome person and talking to awesome people is one of the best feelings (and something I don't do often enough outside of G.)

J.'s friend joined us at the end of our dinner and I was so excited to be out-and-about that I decided to join them at another bar. It's about 8, 9-ish at night. They chose a downtown bar that I was pretty sure was a gay bar. That's not a problem, it just got me thinking that maybe J. had more to tell. As soon as I walk in, a former student comes up to me, "Hi Ms. M. How are you?" This is actually a fairly common occurrence for me. All I could remember about this guy was that he got a B and his name was actually three first names. I tell him that he can call me Vanessa. After all, he's an ex-student and it's just ridiculous to be called Ms. M at a bar. So, he goes away, and we find a table and order drinks. Then, he comes back and offers to buy me and my friends drinks. Sure, why not? We chat a bit and I start to wonder if he's gay (we were in a gay bar); if so, why is he being so nice to me?; if he's straight, this is a little weird; does he think I'm gay? (again, we were in a gay bar). It gets a little more interesting when he comes over again with an invitation to his birthday party next weekend and the party is at this same bar. Hmmm...J. said this guy was showing his appreciation for teaching such an great history class. Not sure how I should take it, but it was nice of him anyway and he seemed like a friendly person.

So, little by little, J. reveals that she is gay and this other friend was an ex-girlfriend. Crazy. We tried to keep talking above the music, which was really good dance music. I couldn't resist dancing for much of the night. Then it was like, oh hell, it's 2 am, I NEED TO GET HOME.

Well, I got home and promptly went to sleep, but sleep, sleep, and more sleep couldn't save me from feeling like crap today.

Sometimes, I get all nostalgic about how much I used to go out-- back when spending eight hours in a bar was no problem and I could easily rebound the next morning. What usually shuts the nostalgia shit down is the day-after a night like last night. I had so much fun reconnecting with a good friend and being social. That part was fine, it was super fun (although I really wished G. was there). Unfortunately, the social part always comes with the hangover part--not just drink, but lack of sleep. I end up wasting the day away in bed and willing myself not to throw up. Harsh reminder that I'm just not cut out for that anymore.

On the plus side, J. is my new (old) friend.

Back to the Routine

2006-03-20T16:10:00.000-07:00

Here is little Filomena. She is acting like a very well-behaved pup these days.

Spring Break came to an abrupt end. Yesterday, G. and I found ourselves stuck in front of our computers in preparation for class today. It was a nice break, much needed, but I'm afraid it slowed down the momentum of the semester. That fear was partially realized today with very low attendance in class. Darn students!

I've been sticking to the System. Unfortunately, I've also been eating way too many fast food meals and indulging in sweets (darn Girl Scouts and their All-Abouts!) for the past two weeks. I think the eating canceled out the exercise. That sucks. But I am rededicating myself to eating right and exercising four times a week and trying to keep my brain from imagining tasty burger and fry combos.

I drive through a very dangerous intersection every day on my way to work. The danger lies in the fact that a fast food restaurant sits on each corner, so the aroma of burgers, fried chicken, and steak tacos combine to create an enticing scent--a veritable invitation to sin.

Gotta take it one day at a time.

2006-03-16T19:15:00.000-07:00

Have you ever experienced an adult tantrum? I have--today to be exact.

Like A Perfect Storm (the movie), the conditions for my adult tantrum developed slowly:

AM headache
Challenging workout where I bemoaned my love for dessert and blamed my parents for not making me play sports
Delayed much needed shower for four hours to eat lunch, wash dishes, bathe Filo, watch Goonies (the movie)
received very annoying phone call from my mother who asked for the upteenth time if she should get a dog
Bed was never made
And the final element to provoke my no-wire-hangers moment--the remote control went missing

Within moments, I erupted into a yelling, frustrated harpy. Filo escaped to the bedroom; G. shouted possible locations for the remote control from the shower ("NO, IT'S NOT IN THE FUCKING SOFA CUSHIONS"). I even started crying, no, sobbing actually and sprawled on the floor, in just the right place to see the remote control under the TV stand.

This is the type of moment that probably shouldn't be recorded in my blog (Hello future employers!) But doesn't everybody experience moments where life itself is so intolerable that nothing short of screaming will ameliorate the frustration? Thankfully, it doesn't last long--it shouldn't last long at all (and if it does, then you've got problems).

Really, all I needed was a shower.

Cranky, Crampy, but not Crunky

2006-03-15T23:07:00.000-07:00

I never intended to take a break from blogging--it just happened. Hmm, what's been going on: I've been cranky at the weather (windy, sandy-gritty, dull). Wind plus spring keeps the pollen count super high, which antagonizes my allergies.

G. and I are on Spring Break. Very low-key break so far. We're alternating work and fun days so we can rest up, yet still be productive. Filomena is also suffering from allergies and she is very stinky. Time for a groomin', poor pup.

This morning I took a nap that was long enough for a pretty intense dream. G. and I were driving on a highway in rainy, icy weather. I remember feeling really scared because cars were driving too fast all around us. A semi-truck that was in front of us started skidding, so we were trying to slow down to avoid hitting it. Then an oncoming minivan also started skidding and we had to avoid hitting it, too. Finally, we all came to a stop. The End. Total weirdness because we've never been in this type of situation. So, was I just dreaming or did I witness something from the future (dramatic music, clash of cymbols)????

My mom says that when you dream about somebody, you are supposed to call that person. I'll have to ask her what the proper response is to a near-death dream experience. Any suggestions?

The Genius of El Vez

2006-03-04T18:19:00.000-07:00

El Vez played on Tuesday at the downtown Mardi Gras celebration. G. and I really like his crazy, creative lyrics and renditions of popular songs. He mixes camp, kitch, Chicano pride AND politics--it's hilarious and completely right-on at the same time. Unfortunately, that brand of entertainment-with-a-message was not a hit with an audience working on achieving a heavy Mardi Gras buzz and a reason to repent for Lent.

G. and our buddy, D., were nice enought to recreate the audience reaction. The other pic is of El Vez in his evangelical preacher-immigration reform advocate get-up. And me, well I'm not sure what I'm doing.

March Madness

2006-03-04T18:01:00.000-07:00

This whole week was a little weird. I don't remember what happened on Monday--oh, yes, I had to finish grading. Tuesday, I had a migraine in the morning, but recovered in time to see the El Vez show. Wednesday, we went to the mall and got cellphones (totally not planned). G. was barely home Thursday, Friday, and today since he's attending a conference at UTEP, so I was home alone more than normal. I didn't exercise at all, nor did I eat anything even remotely healthy.

Sometimes when one part of your normal schedule is disrupted, everything is blown off course. I think that's what happened. Things should return to normal Monday.

2006-02-28T12:08:00.000-07:00

I've got a topic in mind, but no time to blog-it.

Filo's at the groomers, so here's a pic to fill in the sad, quiet loneliness. I'll have to eat my lunch without a pair of eyes staring and pleading for carrot sticks (sigh).

By the way, America lost 0-1. This season, being an America fan is much like being a Miner fan.

Believe...

2006-02-26T12:52:00.000-07:00

As an undergrad at UTEP, I never went to an athletic event or even had much school spirit. Actually, no, I went to one football game with extremely low attendance due to drizzly weather and a suck-y football team. After reaching a good beer buzz, we finally made it to the game, sat behind the band, and make fun of them. But no basketball games.

G. grew up with a different sense of UTEP spirit. His dad loves UTEP basketball. They regularly attended home games and reveled in seeing Tim Hardaway, Antonio Davis, and Greg Foster play for UTEP, all of whom later played for the NBA (so I'm told; I, of course, knew none of this).

Since returning to El Paso, I've picked up a bit more UTEP spirit, especially around basketball season, from G. and his dad (and his sisters, too--it's a family thing). Not enough to get me regularly to the games, but enough to understand how tough it is to be UTEP Miner fan.

To be a Miner fan, you must prepare to be disappointed about 60% of the time (depending on the sport)-this encompasses the Lows: the inexplicable mistakes, the near wins, the injuries, watching once promising records falter. The other 40% is blissful excitement and the entire city bursts with Miner pride. This 40% is attained through much nail-biting and suspense--the important games are never won with a comfortable margin; nope, every second, every move counts. It feels like the players have to win the hard way. To be a UTEP Miner fan, you are asked to follow the team through the many struggles, you have to believe they will pull through at the last moment. It may sound cheesy, it may just be the result of a very effective marketing campaign, but that one word--believe--emerges as the perfect catchphrase for UTEP athletics.

"Believe" is the best word for UTEP, its fans, even El Paso. UTEP's reputation is not as well-known or as highly regarded as that other UT school, nor do its players ooze with superstar, uber talent of the big athletic programs. Likewise, El Paso has a bad reputation. The city recently got national media attention for being one of the sweatiest, fattest, most illiterate & inebriated cities in the nation (TOTALLY not true). To be asked to believe that UTEP and the city can rise above these kinds of tags is mighty powerful. And they do believe. And it makes me love El Paso.

Last night, Miners pick up gritty win and held on to a chance to enter NCAA championship play.
Glory Road, the movie that chronicles the 1966 NCAA victory of Texas Western College (UTEP's former name) is more evidence that UTEP athletes have always been scrappy. I won't go into the specifics of the movie; all I will say is check your local movie listings and watch it immediately.

And, lastly, today is the Clasico de Clasicos, the big game between Guadalajara Chivas (boo, hiss) and Club America (vamos, aguilas!!). I'm taking UTEP's win last night as a good sign that the sports gods are on my side this weekend. Final Score: America 2, Chivas, 1.

2006-02-18T18:42:00.000-07:00

So far today, I've done everything besides grading exams--even exercise (!!).

I'm home alone tonight. G. went to see the UTEP/Rice basketball game. I could have gone, too, of course, but just didn't feel like it. I haven't "felt" like doing a lot of stuff, from reading to blogging, grading, tidying up, watching movies, emailing, talking on the phone, crossing things off my growing To-Do list. All of this inactivity is making me feel pretty slummy.

G. tried to figure out what's troubling me over breakfast this morning. I can be really difficult and moody and supersensitive, yet G. has figured out how to draw me out without seeming pushy. He can diffuse the grumpy and soothe me. It's one of the reasons why I love him so much. He brings me closer to feeling normal.

In other news, with the purchase of a hair straightening iron, I am officially "high maintenance." Over the years, my make-up collection and cleansing routine has expanded to include multiple steps (ALL of which are absolutely necessary, of course), and we can't forget The Regimen either. I don't know if I like this new designation--more steps means more time, and forget about packing "light" for a trip. There's something fussy about "high maintenance," something that doesn't seem me.

Oh, but who am I really?

I'll Kill You

2006-02-17T17:21:00.000-07:00

Meet Filomena's mortal enemy...

Editorial Meeting

2006-02-17T17:13:00.000-07:00

A Tale of Three Talk Shows

2006-02-11T10:59:00.000-07:00

G. and I had dinner with his family last night to celebrate birthday, anniversary, and induction into an honor society. It was a nice atmosphere, very Italian restaurant-ish. The only speedbumb was the fact that our waitress sent half our order for take-out, delaying our meal about an hour and a half. In the meanwhile, we ate lots of bread and I drank a little too much chianti on an empty stomach. To top it all off, my meal wasn't that great. But the conversation was quite lively, which brings me to the subject of this post.

For some reason, we got on the topic of Oprah. Oprah was universally panned for turning her show into an Oprah-fest no matter what the day's topic. Dave Chappelle is on? Oprah talks about herself. Actually, she manages to talk about herself all the damn time (other popular topics in relation to herself: John Travolta, her plane, her dogs). It surprises me how she can get away with so much ego (she's on every cover of her magazine) and still have a ca-zillion fans. G. even had a student who firmly believed that Oprah as president would solve the world's problems. I know she gives a lot of money to charity (and I know it's a LOT of money) and uses her fame to highlight serious issues. Yet she also uses her fame to milk her celebrity for all its worth.

Now on the subject of celebrity. Did anybody catch Isaac Mizrahi for E! during the Golden Globes? It was hilarious. He kept asking the celebrities totally inappropriate questions about underwear and the like. It was so much more entertaining that those other kiss-butt red carpet shows and, may I venture to say, even subversive. The whole purpose of those shows is to publicize these celebrities' careers and clothes and life and make all of us schmoes feel like fat, ugly, poor slumps (alright, I'm speaking for myself). But Isaac didn't play by the red carpet rules and was borderline rude-- he undermined the red carpet! Now, Isaac can get away with this behavior on the red carpet and his talk show because he's gay and a little flamboyant and flighty, so it's behavior that is disarming and not dangerous (per se). Cut to last year's E! red carpet events where Kathy Griffin did the same type of schtick, but because she's a comedian and a woman, it's unacceptable (still subversive however). So, she's out, and cute "harmless" Isaac is in.

Isaac's show is not all about HIM in an Oprah or Tyra way. His slip-ups and mistakes are funny precisely because they work against the polished veneer of other talk shows. And he has fun with the mistakes; he seems genuinely tickled by things that don't go well. Now take another talk show with mistakes, Martha Stewart. She tries so hard to be polished in front of the audience and to partake in witty banter with her chefs and celebrity guests. She fails miserably precisely because her personality is humorless and rather bitchy and no matter how much she tries to suppress it, these traits always emerge. Whether she's making a bed with some guy from Las Vegas or cooking with Carmen Electra, they always end up the foolish Goofus while Martha is the (visibly) triumphant Gallant. Every single time. Martha Stewart worked in the edited confines of her last show, Martha Stewart Living ; it doesn't work with an unedited show and live audience.

So what's the point? I guess there is no point if you aren't into noticing these types of things or watch much TV (I do both in spades). However, I think that Isaac's show, plus Kathy Griffin's biting stand-up and the hilarity of E!'s Talk Soup and VH1's Best Week Ever (all of which poke fun at reality TV, celebrity "news", and talk shows) could be early signs that celebrity worship is in decline. It has reached a point of ridiculousness that is unsustainable. These shows highlight the cracks and shows us how stupid it all is..."Brangelina"???. Meanwhile, WE'RE IN A WAR PEOPLE!!!

And that's how it looks from my little corner of the world.

Superbowl socializing is for chumps

2006-02-07T17:51:00.001-07:00

So the Superbowl...I watched it (at least part of it). I succumbed to the media hype and tuned in, even though football ranks low on my Sports-I'll-Watch-List. While we rated the commercials, G. and I came to a realization about the Superbowl and (oddly enough) New Year's. On the eve of both events, I feel a certain amount of pressure to socialize. And the social activity must be enormously fun and memorable. Sounds crazy, huh? We did not participate in any social activity this year, mainly because we don't know many people here (and those we do know do not like football). G. was actually reading for the week, so he wasn't really "into" the big game. My sister and her husband were doing home-stuff. I even tried to hang out with my parents to watch the game, but they had other plans!

In other news, I'm trying to popularize the phrase "------- is for chumps." Example: "Putting raisens in your oatmeal is for chumps" "Double dipping a chip is for chumps." A Superbowl social activity would have been perfect for spreading the word on my new phrase, but, well you know how that turned out. Come to think of it, G. and I don't have much luck popularizing our own trends. Let's see, there was Huey Lewis and the News and hmmm, I can't remember the others, so they definitely didn't have staying power. But this one is going to be a hit! Would it be appropriate for lecture, as in "Paying higher British taxes was for chumps" or "Text messageing in class is for chumps." Maybe using it in class would help spread the phrase among the young people...I think I'm on to something...

Feel free, blogging world, to incorporate the phrase into your everyday conversations. Think of the possibilities.

Saturday already?!

2006-02-03T23:56:00.000-07:00

It's almost Saturday--I do love the weekend. G. has a class tomorrow morning and plenty of reading, too, and I have a long list of things to-do, so (on the surface) this Saturday could easily resemble last Saturday (see the "I'm Bored" post). What might make a difference is that we have a stockpile of wine, a fridge stocked with yummy food, and I'm in the middle of a cultural analysis of Michael Jackson (On Michael Jackson by Margo Jefferson). Good prospects.

I pushed through the boredom last week and ended up watching pieces-parts of four movies of varying quality: Saturday Night Fever (I love this movie. I own this movie. I've memorized several key dance moves in this movie), Private Parts (I'm actually a big Howard Stern fan. He aired in El Paso for a short time while I was in high school, then was suddenly and inexplicably taken off the air. Luckily, I've rediscovered Howard on Sirius--more evidence that satellite radio is fucking awesome), Capturing the Friedman's (disturbing, thought-provoking look at a family in crisis through their own home videos. Brought up a lot of questions about how memories can be manipulated by our own minds, other people, and even media like video tapes. Worth checking out), finally, Running Scared (Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines--yeah, the dancer, those wacky 80's!!!--play tough cops on the mean streets of Chicago. Overflowing with cop-schtick-buddy picture crap. Which makes me wonder if that plotline was actually funny in 1986? Oh, and if Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines aren't enough starpower for you, Jimmy Smits is thrown in as.....yep, the local Cuban-Columbian-Puerto Rican-generic Latino drug kingpin.)

Varying quality indeed.

I'm bored.

2006-01-28T16:04:00.000-07:00

Here's what I've already done today: napped, exercised, showered, began the laundry, read, watched a bit of tv, organized recycling, played with Filo, changed sheets/made bed

Here's what I should do: work on my course homepages, review chapters/lectures for next week, write a quiz, trim Filo's ears, eat a sensible dinner, avoid bugging G. (who is quietly doing his work like a super student), fold and put away laundry, iron

Here's what I want to do: Order pizza (current fav is Pizza Hut's More-4-All), have a scotch and soda, politely avoid Filo (who is getting stinkier by the minute), watch a movie, play Scattergories, lay about and talk about nonesense with G.

Here's what I probably will do: Check blogs (the ones I don't read regularly, but still hold some interest in), read New York Times movie reivews, search online for My Perfect Summer Sandal (currently Bandolino's Flavian model), consider organizing the closet, fold (but not put away) laundry, poke about in the kitchen rather than make a full meal, sigh a lot

The System, meet The Regimen

2006-01-27T19:13:00.000-07:00

Everybody can breathe a sigh of relief. The dentist's visit actually went well!! I am so surprised and (honestly) fucking relieved.

I managed to preserve my sanity by not predicting how many horrible, expensive procedures the dentist would demand (except for about 20 minutes the night before). I'm not completely off the hook concerning my teeth. My dentist introduced me to a strict Regimen. The Regimen includes: flossing all teeth (takes me a long time and I really only do the back teeth); Stim-u-dent the front teeth (Stim-u-dents are glorified toothpicks); brush with Sonicare (2 minutes); rinse with hydrogen peroxide (a gross soapy and fizzy 30 seconds, although not so bad if you mix with Listerine); use Microjet (plastic syringe type contraption) to shoot peroxide towards the wisdom molars and gumline. Last night, the Regimen took me 10 minutes (G. contests this estimate, but this isn't his blog, so boo).

The Regimen is a bit of a drag, to be honest. But I can (grudgingly) admit that it's better than having more serious dental problems down the road. The Regimen is definitely, infinitely better than having to fork over $2,000 for dental work.

So, loyal readers, learn from me! Don't dwell and stress about stuff that might or might not happen (in other words, before freaking out, wait for the end of the story.) And take care of your teeth, dammnit! Avoid sweets and soda!

Yeah, as for that last piece of advice...G. and I celebrated my news by consuming a big ol' piece of chocolate cake.

"And you with youth on your side..."

2006-01-23T16:12:00.000-07:00

I was talking to a student today who was wearing bright blue eyeshadow and vibrant pink highlights. Ah, to be a teenager...

I took a big step towards emotional adulthood today (and far away from teenager-land). I made an appointment with the dentist. I hate going to the dentist because in all of my 27 years, a dentist's visit has brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. There is always bad news. The most recent bad experience (almost a year ago) with the dentist included two root canals. Root canals are horrible procedures no matter what, but these root canals were even more evil because I paid the full cost for them. I have no dental insurance, hell, I have insurance to speak of (it keeps me up at night, I just know an errant tennis ball will do me in), so I paid, I paid big.

Calling up the dentist shouldn't be scary (duh), but with this kind of history and my penchant for drama, I put it off. I endure G.'s nagging and the uneasy sensitivity of a tooth in a childish attempt to escape the reality of a dentist's visit. So calling for an appointment so soon after feeling something is a big step for me. And as if that wasn't grown-up enough, I am not going to obsess with what might happen at the dentist, I'm not going to moan and groan about paying for another root canal before even stepping foot in the office itself because that type of stinkin' thinkin' only causes unnecessary stress and upset. Hm, excuse me while I pat myself on the back.

The Seven's

2006-01-16T00:43:00.000-07:00

After much thought, I've finally compiled my seven's list, in no particular order. Thanks, Big Brown Girl, for the invite.

Seven Things I Plan To Do Before I Die:

Write a novel
Be fluent in Spanish
Visit Japan
Cook without recipies
Learn how to crochet (without directions)
Go to a World Cup
Work at a super job

Seven Things I Can Do:

Pick out good gifts
Last minute crafting
Write a damn good research paper
Organize stuff
Take a stain out
Avoid a sink full of dishes
Dance!

Seven Things I Can't Do:

Pass up chocolate, cake, pizza
Change oil/tire
Tell time without a watch
Real push-ups
Finish crossword puzzles
Make a pot of coffee
Sing

Seven Things That Attract Me to Another Person

Boyish charm
Sense of humor
Capable of empathy
Can appreciate the Rockford Files
Good speller
Loyalty
Doesn't mind when I'm flighty

Seven Things I Say Most Often

Hopefully
I don't know
Jesus Christ
Silly-mena-Filly-mena
Goddamnit
Fucker (mostly muttered while in the car)
Ay de mi

Seven People To Do This Little Blogger Game

G.
Nurse Ratchett
Joel's Blog
Danny
Sarah
Uh...I ran out of people.

2006-01-16T00:14:00.000-07:00

Uh-oh. It's one of those nights where I would love to be asleep, but can't manage to block out the million things running through my head. Today I was in total denial that classes are starting Tuesday. Spent much of the day watching bits of the Isaac show on Style, some soccer, Ice Diaries on TLC (follows four ice skaters--I'm as much mesmerized by their dedication to the sport as by their yicky outfits), and the AKC National Championships where I totally teared up when they highlighted special dogs--ohmigod! I saw commercials for Puppy Bowl II on Animal Planet. I found a sneak peek video clip on the website and the concept seems to be pups playing and wrasslin' and all sorts of mischief (and if you don't like dogs, there's a Kitty Half Time Show). Strangely very watchable in its utter innocence and fun (reminds me of a recent visit to Guitar Center), although I feel vaguely like Seinfeld's Elaine when she stares at a tire (she's getting dumber as George gets smarter 'cause he's not having sex). I know what my TV will be tuned to come Superbowl Sunday.

As for more Sunday highlights, I experienced the (most recent) nap-to-end-all-naps and set up my new desk lamp.

The party is pretty much over for me, however much I try to forget what day it is. In the flurry of productivity that ensues, I hope this blog doesn't fall through the cracks. I had such, gee I don't know, high aspirations (??) when I started Ness and Filomena. I should spend more time on making my entries __________ (pick one: witty, inspirational, poetic, thought-provoking, sexy, political--even the most basic "interesting). Maybe I could just muster enough effort to add good links to the new template...I'm trying to determine what I want from the blog and not totally sure I really want anything from it. The initial idea was to start writing on a regular basis bits and pieces of how I experience and view my life and also throw in pictures of my undeniably precious Filomena because she's just so darn cute.

This question of purpose has plagued me since I read an article on women bloggers in January's Glamour. The article first asks, "Women who blog?: Are they self-absorbed exhibitionists? Groovy free spirits? Or just plain bored? Meet them and decide for yourself." According to Mark Crispin Miller, professor of culture and communication at NYU (a male perspective on women bloggers, hmm), "There is something going on where we must always be on display--it's the rise of the look-at-me culture." The author (non-blogger perspective on bloggers, hmm)agrees with Miller: "Blogging, it seems, is the reality TV for the deskbound crowd." Oh, really???? So my blog persona is akin to a cyber-Simple Life? God, I hope not.

I don't see myself as deskbound (which sounds so darn pathetic, no?), a self-absorbed exhibitionist, groovy free spirit, or (to sum the profiled bloggers "identities") someone who overshares, blogged during a honeymoon, performs for her readers, or has gotten in work-trouble for my blog. PLUS, it doesn't feel right to agree with the assertion that my blog is an attempt to be "on display/look at me", and if it were, considering my low readership, I'm failing miserably. Only one profiled blogger who was remotely relatable reportedly initially talked about body issues and, it turns out, writes for an awesome magazine, Bust.

I don't know what I expected; the article is published in Glamour, for chrissake.

I recently read an essay arguing that young people have adopted the language and identities of the Real World. G. used to hate Seinfeld because he felt that people tried to emulate the show (ex. yada, yada, yada)(one of my favorite Family Guy episodes is where Peter has a pool party for dictators and Qadaffi says he loves Seinfeld because it reminds him of his friends. Classic). Anyway, the point is maybe I have absorbed elements of pop culture that emphasize self-classification--maybe the blog is a way to work out if I'm a Mary/Rhoda, Carrie/the other ones, (sigh) deskridden or whatever. That's a part of it, but my blog also comes out of the opportunity/novelty of publishing thoughts and have them read by anybody who happens to stumble upon them. I don't pretend my voice should or ever will be the authority on something, so why feel pressured to be identifiable?

I think I might be going in circles. It's late, too, sleep might have finally come.

Pupdate: What's Up with Filo?

2006-01-14T23:29:00.000-07:00

She learned how to smoke a (rawhide) pipe and drive. Wow.

Our New Mexico Adventure

2006-01-14T23:14:00.000-07:00

I-25 to Las Vegas, New Mexico
Originally uploaded by NessandFilo.

G. and I had a great time driving through northern New Mexico. We gained an appreciation for the scenery and small towns while living in Albuquerque. Northern New Mexico feels peaceful and quiet; the weather is cool, there are mountains and plains (sometimes not quite green, especially in drought). I can't describe it. You can easily find much more poetic descriptions of New Mexico (don't get me started on Santa Fe) and a lot of it sounds too tourist-y to be true. All I can say is that there is definitely something intriguing about this region.

2006-01-14T22:27:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged or even checked my email since returning from our New Mexico adventure. I think my inactivity is a result of avoiding my desk the entire week. Why avoid the desk, you ask? Simple, it's my last week of vacation and I had work waiting for me. This week, I had three meetings to attend on campus, mostly related to a student's grade appeal and I was supposed to work on lectures and review the textbook. Managed to put just a minimal amount of work into all of those activities--so much for one of my New Year's resolution. I'm already feeling the consequences of my procrastination--my syllabus may not be ready for Tuesday's morning class. I'm hoping this is not a sign of what's to come this spring.

So I can't really account for my activities this week. Simply said, such mental blanks are not good. Mental blanks signal that it's time to return to a daily schedule. Daily schedules that accomodate the System, finding a phd program, foster a writing schedule, and start studying for the GRE. Maybe a daily schedule will help me fight the urge to watch way too much tv. Maybe.

Sigh, I'm back, I'm plugged in.

2006-01-05T20:17:00.000-07:00

G. and I are headed to Las Vegas, Santa Fe, and Alburquerque, New Mexico tomorrow for a much needed out-of-town excursion before our semesters start. Little Filomena is staying at my mom's, so it's like she's on vacation, too. Unfortunately, I've been feeling a wee bit under the weather these past couple of days--what lousy luck BUT I will perservere! (and travel with several boxes of kleenex)

Hold on to your hats, folks, I've got a system

2006-01-03T12:09:00.000-07:00

Pizza is magic.

Pizza and diet coke helped me recover from my New Year's, champagne induced hangover. Pizza made it possible to channel surf without barfing. With pizza, I could hold my head up again. Pizza is magic.

So I was flipping through the channels and noticed that the home shopping networks were selling exercise equipment to cater to all those sad sacks who ate too much and are trying to pump themselves up to take off the excess.

I am one of those sad sacks. I had to lose a couple of pounds before November and just never got around to it. The situation deepened around November 14 when I began consuming large amounts of cake. Thanskgiving introduced pie and stuffing to the mix, then two birthdays around the beginning of December (equals more cake and eating out) plus various Christmas goodies plus increased drinking. Yeesh, I've successfully increased the original number of poundage to lose by twofold, necessitating a wardrobe realignment and the purchase of transition pants. Transition fucking pants.

Good news is that I bought a system, an exerise system called The Step. The program included fitness ball, exercise band, 3 lb weights, a step-dealie, and three workout dvds. The workouts are led by Cathe (yep, with an e--more fitness instructor-y, don't you think?), who, to my enormous relief, is genuinely cheerful and pleasant and completely unlike other fitness instructors (Leslie Sansone, I'm thinking of you).

I am so ready to throw off this vacation-induced laziness and holiday binge-o-rama. Yet I also have to remind myself to keep things in perspective, focus on the health benefits and not so much the scale, and not to lose the humor in life. Ah, yes, humor.

Experts report that the majority of people who make the resolution to lose weight/exercise don't keep it up, but I have faith in the possibility and promise of resolutions. Maybe I won't get to learning portuguese, but I can do this! I will do this! I must do this!

Best of luck from the bottom of my heart to anybody else who bought transition pants and systems this New Year's.

I'm a cliche!

2006-01-01T12:16:00.000-07:00

I've been lucky enough to dodge hangovers this entire week. The secret? Eat before you go to bed. The amount you eat determines whether you'll escape entirely from headache/nausea hell or suffer just a wee bit. My luck ran out this morning. It was a very low key New Year's Eve. Had dinner with friends and a late night game of Scattergories with my sister and brother in law before popping open the champagne-esque sparkling stuff for midnight. Champagne-esque sparkling stuff always makes me sick--that and mixing red and white wines the entire night. Yeesh, just thinking about it...

And now I have a headache and slight nausea, like so many other sad sacks this morning. On the bright side, pizza has just been delivered. There is hope...

To Bang or Not to Bang?

2005-12-29T20:55:00.000-07:00

G. and I are closing out our third week of vacation, which translates into staying up very late, sleeping in, irregular meals, and lots of movies and tv. Somewhere in this disorderly schedule, I found time to obsess about my bangs. Started out with a little trim to last me until my next haircut in January. Then I trimmed a little more after perusing a magazine. Then I convinced myself that I NEEDED bangs immediately--I was so beguiled by the thought of heavy fringe and straight, straight hair. So I took the plunge and now...not sure I like the look. What a way to kill a hair obsession. Funny thing is, I'm pretty sure I've experienced this bang-thing before. That time, my sister held the sissors. I guess I never give up the hope that it might work out--same situation with turtleneck sweaters...

Oh, well, it doesn't look that bad (does it?!). Can't think about it now; G. and I are off to meet friends. Ah, so nice to have friends in town!

2005-12-29T20:47:00.000-07:00

Rosco's Burger Inn Inc (?)

Friends-4-Eva

2005-12-27T13:34:00.000-07:00

One aspect of the holidays that I absolutely LOVE is when my two best friends make the trip to El Paso. We went to middle and high school together and stayed friends though attending different colleges, living in different cities, and growing into our adult selves. I think a lot about this stage of my life and trying to reconcile me-now with me-then; it's self-indulgent, it's cliche, it's frustrating, I know. Talking things over with A. and S. help make that undertaking ok in the way that only old, true friends of whatever age can.

On this trip, we braved the post-Christmas melee at the mall (even though there was a high danger for cringe-level encounters with former Burges High alums) and went out for drinks last night (we ended up at a very-El Paso type bar; not complaining, it was so appropriate). It was such a relief to be around two wonderful people who really know you--but it's not like we're the same person times 3. Maybe that's why our friendship works so well.

G. and I had such a beautiful Christmas with our families and spending time with A. and S. really sweetens the season. I am very lucky.