You Can't Make This Stuff Up

Spanish phrase o'the day: Amas de Casa Desesperadas (Desperate Housewives)

I have only the energy to post this quote, which Elizabeth so fortuitously sent me. It's sort of a snapshot summary of all my feelings about the nature of reality, and the constant and on-going thought process I have regarding the seeming reality that "truth is stranger than fiction." Here's the quote.

"Without realizing it, the individual composes his life according to the
laws of beauty even in times of greatest distress. It is wrong, then, to
chide the novel for being fascinated by mysterious coincidences...but it is
right to chide man for being blind to such coincidences in his daily life."
(Milan Kundera, from The Unbearable Lightness of Being)

One Night In Bangkok

THOSE IN LOUISVILLE:

Birth the Play at Actor's Theatre: Friday, June 2 and Saturday, June 3 at 8pm. tickets $15; $12 for students & seniors. (502) 584-1205 for more info.

4th annual "Birth in the Bluegrass" Childbirth Conference June 3 at Executive Inn West in Louisville KY, 10am - 2pm. This year's theme: "Achieving Balance in Childbirth." see link to Birth Care Network on the right side of this blog for more info. www.birthcarenetwork.com

PLEASE BE THERE! You are supporting choice in childbirth for birthing families!!!!!

Right. Sorry about the week gap in writing here, but I've been horribly productive doing other things. It's quite brilliant, actually. Although I've been pretty bitchy much of the week (either due to PMS, echoes of Mother's Day, or my husband's stress level, what with the end of the school year upon us and all), I have gotten lots done, for myself and for my satellite interests. For example, I've done loads of things to get ready for the Birth in the Bluegrass Conference week after next!!! I'm in charge of the Silent Auction, and have been colelcting plenty of lovely items and services to auction. I've also made calls to prospective vendors and have tied up other Birth Care Network loose ends. I even got myself a lovely massage on Wednesday and lunched with Andrew the Lovely Medievalist. We had a civilized chat over salads and soups about some viking named Something-wulf cleaving people in two. Quite civilized, I assure you. Especially the cleaving.

And my beautiful Elizabeth moves! She migrates north for the summer, and then back to MASS. Interestingly and by coincidence (as usual), this morning I was talking to one of my many bosses at the Honors House (Tony), who purports that all people from Boston are mean. I disagreed with him, saying that my experience in Boston had been quite lovely--especially the North Quarter--and he replied by saying, "they don't call them MASSholes for nothing." I thought that was pretty funny, although I disagreed, obviously. tee hee.

In other news, I've begun my summer job at school. I'm in training this week so that we can begin advising freshmen during orientation next week! Exciting times! My kids end school this week as well, and my sister's in town visiting, too! All kinds of things happening, and yet I'm a bit melancholy to be out of my routine of visiting friends from school. They've scattered to the four winds for summertime, understandably. And I've got plenty on the docket, what with the play and the conference and working and the end of school etc., but I still miss seeing my "peeps" (which I must always say with a bit of irony...).

PS. The title refers to the song I've been listening to incessantly for the past week. It's from a Tim Rice musical called "Chess."

How Do I Hate Mother's Day? Let Me Count The Ways

I am a doula. This means that I spend a considerable chunk of time with women who are seasoned mothers, women just preparing to be a mother, or women who are handling the new job of mothering. I love my mother; I love my mother-in-law. I love my sister--also a mother. I love all my colleagues at BirthCare Network, most of whom are mothers several times over. I love women and mothering and birth and uteri and vaginas and voluptuousness. I love the Goddess.

Nevertheless, I hate Mother's Day... a LOT.

Mother's Day is a sucky day for me, because I am confronted with a reality which normally I am able to keep on the fringes of my consciousness. But as I watch my husband make a present with the kids for his ex-wife, I naturally tend toward feelings not unlike that which chopped liver must feel. All in all, I feel pretty marginalized. ...I did get a cool present yesterday from my family, but it was given to me with the understanding that it was meant as a 'thanks for taking care of us' present. So, in short, I had mixed feelings about it. I love my stepkids, and I love my husband and his appreciation for the contribution I made to raising his kids. But on Mother's Day, it really hurts--a LOT--not to be a "real" mom. As a logical result, I was in a pretty bad mood all weekend, and now I'm just glad it's over.

Ironically, the blatant Mother's Day salutations I did receive were from my sister-in-law, my own mother and father, and from my husband's ex-wife. She gave me a very beautiful card expressing how much she appreciated the contribution I make to her children's lives. To receive this from her is somewhat bittersweet, you know, as I simultaneously appreciate the recognition while also resenting her for having had her own babies, while I probably will have none. It's a weird life, to be sure.

Questions and sentiments about being a parent, reproducing oneself, sharing one's life with another person and mutually raising and transmitting their culture together to this new being are much more momentous and primal than anyone can really accurately feel in youth. It is only with time that the import of these human rites becomes obvious. For myself, I don't think, now, that I'll be a happy woman at 60 if I have no children of my own to show for it. I don't have a sense that I'll ever make a baby myself, but I think adoption will be a necessary part of my future. I've got to have some kid to call my own. Sharing other people's children (whether my stepkids or those children whose families hire me during their gestation) can only go so far.

2 Years Late: Better Now Than Never

Although this album came out 2 years ago and I never tried to publish this review, perhaps I can persuade a few of you to buy/listen to the album. Here's the review.



All That We Let In CD Review

The Indigo Girls' newest CD, All That We Let In, is another set of beautiful, uplifting songs that speak to the truth of our hearts as Americans and as lovers of human nature. Amy Ray and Emily Saliers appeal to the best instincts in their listeners; this faith in their consumers is the chief reason for their success on this album and in previous years.
The most necessary song on this CD is “Perfect World,” the Indigo Girls’ simultaneous praise of the utopian aspects of America and admonishment of its underlying roots in injustice and excess. Case in point: “I’m okay if I don’t have to do the killing/or know what the killing is for..../And in this moment we are denying/what it costs.../for one perfect world/when we look the other way.” The song exhorts us to “learn to live another way,” and realize the price we must pay for the cost of the freedom and privilege we enjoy in the United States.
Another must-have song is “All That We Let In,” the CD’s title track. It is an anthem against apathy, an invitation to love the world unconditionally, despite loss and sadness. The poignant yet simple lyrics pull on one’s heartstrings with effective zeal, but never cross into that dreaded arena of “cotton candy” music: “You see those crosses on the side of the road/Or tied with ribbons in the median/They make me gratedul I can go this mile/Lay me down and wake me up again.” Typical of the Indigo Girls, Amy and Emily walk the fine line between gripping emotion and fetid melodrama, always steering clear of the mediocre.
Musically, the album has all the variety one would expect of these such seasoned musicians. Some tracks have a reflective tone, with velvety vocal harmonies and stripped-down instrumentals. There are, of course, upbeat, folksy songs, in signature Indigo Girls style. “Dairy Queen” is a dramatic country ballad with sophisticated and heartfelt lyrics, while “Heartache for Everyone” has a decidedly ska sound, with its organ and accordion instrumentals and hyper-reggae beat.
As an added bonus, the album art is drawn by the renowned comics artist Jaime Hernandez of Love and Rockets fame, and is worth the price of admission alone. So it’s the icing on the cake that All That We Let In will have you tapping your feet while also causing you to want to make the world a better place. It speaks to the most reverent place in the heart, and is a perfect album for any poetic soul. - Clare F. Gervasi

Old thoughts, with a comic

I started going through old journal entries this morning in an attempt to make sense of the vast folders and documents plugging up free space on my hard drive (eww, that sounds gross). Here's an excerpt I thought was worth sharing from February 23, 2004:

I am sitting here in the window of Day’s coffeeshop at the age of 21, writing, the same exact place I was 3 years ago. Writing--constipatedly, grudgingly--and no closer to holding a college degree or a tangible future.
I have just finished listening to a piece on NPR about twenty-somethings moving back in with their parents post-graduation because the job market is so prohibitive at the moment, due to recession. First, they said kids are moving back home because there is less stigma associated with it, and because “young people” want to save money. Then they begin in on how kids actually LIKE their parents. They get along with them in a way their parents could not with their own parents.
And I sit here by myself in this cold storefront window, staring at the slacker-filled abyss that is Bardstown Road Highlands, and I feel a note of discord strike my heart at the thought of what this guest on this radio show is saying. It dissettles me.
There is something extremely distasteful to me in the notions of this ex-hippie talking on the radio about how parents today “don’t want to separate themselves from young people. They listen to more of the ‘young people’s’ music; they wear more of the ‘young people’s’ fashions, and they are close to them in ways that World War II generation parents could not relate to their kids, to us.” A statement like this--and it is not a new assertion--really rubs me the wrong way. Well, it forces to the forefront of my consciousness all doubts about the veracity and genuineness of this statement, where they then ferret and furrow uncomfortably into and around the gyri and sulci of my brain. It is worthy to note that this parent and commentator who spoke about generational differences in the parent-child relationship NEVER ONCE referred to his own child. He referred to “young persons.”

In other news, I also found a comic strip I made for my lovely friend Elizabeth last year. Here it is:



And as Meigooni faithfully pointed out, not everyone who checks this blog reads Spanish! (duh, Clare. sheesh.) So, Here's the translation:
FRAME 1: My God, rooster! We're in Spanish! What're we going to do?
FRAME 2: I know... First, we have to get new clothes--STAT!
FRAME 3: Dave: Why? Rooster: Because, Latinos never wear ties, man. It looks stupid, you know?
FRAME 4: Oh, yeah, I get it: Don't be a gringo.
FRAME 5: So, how do you like our new duds?
FRAME 6: That's not funny, bitch! I'M not the gringo, motherf*er!
NOTE: For Elizabeth, my gringo bitch :)

Just Another Facebook

Spanish word of the day: Envenenada (adj): poisoned.

Well, I did it. I joined Facebook. I am officially a college student now, full and initiated. It was sort of scary, actually, to join the network, but I knew that I had to be a part of it. I think of myself as the kind of person who cares about being plugged into as many people as possible, and what better way to do that than the forum of Facebook? It's an amazing phenomenon, really. To connect so many people in such a social and personal way, completely using fiber optic cable and ethernet connections.... It's pretty cool. I think it's a further expression of the technological manifestation of the very sincere human desire to be aware of and concerned about and interested in each other. --So, despite my reservations about the collision between one's personal and professional life everyone keeps talking about, I'm a joiner. Go me!

I am reading Anthropologist on Mars right now, and at the very front of the book are two quotes which I would simply like to leave with you here, and then I'll go (busy as I am enjoying my free time, unencumbered by school!!!):

"The universe is not only queerer than we imagine, but queerer than we CAN imagine." - J.B.S. Haldane

"Ask not what disease a person has, but rather what person the disease has." - (attributed to) William Osler

Anchovies, Hamper.

SPANISH WORD OF THE DAY: enchufes. (en-choo'-fays) noun, literally, an electrical outlet. Slang, however, has them as powerful people that you know. People who can "hook you up," so to speak. For example: "How did you get box seats to the Derby?" "Enchufes, hombre. I serve coffee to Bob Bafford's dog's trainer's shrink."

This blog is such a nice cranny in which to hide. Much better than writing my two final papers for the semester. Bwahahahaha. I am working on campus today (getting paid, in other words, to sit here and listen to music and surf the net). I'm listening to a band called Nothing Error, headed by Doug Hill, of whom I know little but wish to know more. His band's got an EP out called I Am Here to Break Your Heart. His myspace website can be viewed here, for those of you interested in edgy yet not exhibitionist punk, full of feeling but little frustrated tire spinning, like so much "punk" music is these days:

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=5297528.

At this particular moment, I'm listening to a track called "Down," the best line of which is "I'm not to blame\It's not my fault\That all your wounds\Filled up with salt." Probably not the kind of thing a Louie Prima lover such as Michael Jackman would enjoy, but perhaps Grant (of Reginald Meeks' fame...go publicly elected officials and their interns!) or Andy Bart (of recent birthday fame) would be into it.

Speaking of Michael Jackman, I pleasantly ran into him last week at Heine Bros on Chenoweth. I was there to meet a classmate to study for our Spanish final later in the week (hence the paucity of presence here on Barefoot and Married last week, sorry. Finals take precedence), and he happened to be there, for I'm not sure what reason. It can, I suppose, be chalked up to the fact that Jackman is ubiquitous in coffeeshops, as any good writer ought to be. Coffeeshops have everything the writer needs: a decent wifi connection, plenty o' caffeine, electrical outlets and interesting people to look at. I only got to speak to him for a moment, but he mentioned that he recently had a commentary published in LEO, which I was delighted to hear. It's a great one, and I got to hear the audio version live a few weeks ago, right after he'd written it, when we met for coffee (of course) at Highland. Go read it! http://www.leovia.com/?q=node/1237 ...Also, his own website is extremely well-maintained and interesting. His writing is incisive, honest, self-deprecating, and of course hilarious. Here's a link to his website: http://www.mjfreelancer.com/

I'll go now, I suppose. I must finish writing about invented tradition. I shall force myself. Argh! (That was me making my tough face at myself.)

PS WTF is up with Bush? Does he WANT hippie liberals to take up arms against him or what? see picture below.



PPS. The title for the blog entry today comes from the spellcheck on blogger.com. It wanted to change "Enchufes, hombre." To "Anchovies, hamper." It doesn't get better than that, now does it? Furthermore, it wanted to call Bob Bafford Bob byproduct. How unfortunate! Also, Blogger's spellcheck does not recognize "blog" as a word. --Ironic, ¿no?