Kitty Death

Yesterday was a bad day. I have had the R.E.M. song "Bad Day" running through my head nonstop since.

My little kitty friend died. I went to the vet to be there with him because no one - especially an animal in my care - should die alone. Because I went, my friend, my husband, another friend and the vet were all there to send Calvin off. I rubbed his little nose and his head and kissed him as his heart stopped. It was very peaceful and it broke my heart.

Paul went with me to tell the other animals. I think Miles is mourning, I haven't seen 'Lissa, Maxx could probably have cared less because Paul was there to snuggle with, and Dave seems totally unaffected. I cleaned up everything and I cried and I cried.

It's been a bad day...please don't take a picture.

Pet Sitting

I have been pet sitting for my friends.

First I pet sat (is that a word?) for my friends who have 2 cats and 2 dogs. I spent most of my time there because puppies need to be loved. As a result, I didn't get much sleep as one puppy was so bummed at his mommy and daddy being gone that he whined until about 11pm at night and got me up at 445am in the morning. But they were all very sweet and cute and we had a good time.

Second I pet sat for my friends who have 4 cats and a bird. Two of the cats have diabetes, which means I stick them with insulin twice a day each. I have become an expert at sticking, so I am particularly good at this. But, one of the cats is drastically misunderstood. I am a bit afraid of her so my friend, a vet (it's always good to have a vet for a friend if you are going to pet sit), comes over to stick her once a day. This entails throwing a towel over her and poking her while she screams. Very exciting.

On the first day of my pet sitting, my vet friend says we need to rush the other diabetic cat to the vet (her husband) so we do. He tells us we're drama queens and that we need to soak his feet in an epsom salt bath for 20 minutes a day. I look at him, I mean, have you ever soaked a cat? And he says yes, seriously. So, now my pet sitting includes sticking two diabetic cats twice a day, soaking one of their cats' feet in epsom salt bath, and feeding a bird who yells at me when I leave the room. All in all, not the best way to spend a vacation, but not really a bad time as I love all these animals and I love my friend who goes with me to take care of the cats.

Today the worst thing that can happen to a pet sitter happened. I walked downstairs to stick the little diabetic cat who has already been to the vet once this trip and he is lying on the floor having a seizure. I cannot explain how awful this looked, I cannot do this poor little meow meow's pain justice. I immediately call my friend and her husband (who is on vacation from his vetting) answers. I say garble garble panic panic blah blah. He says take him to the vet. So I rush the kitty into his crate, into my car, and I drive a million miles an hour (oh by the way, yes I drive like a bat out of hell) to the vet. I am sobbing and talking to him, asking him not to die. My friend's husband goes in on his day off to meet me there and basically the kitty is having seizures. We will be waiting for final results over the next couple of hours, but it doesn't look good. I am devastated. Absolutely devastated.

I have been crying on and off all day. I hope that the kitty survives but I am steeling myself for a life or death decision where I have to hold him while he dies. Maybe I don't want to pet sit anymore.

For the Peeps

1. Who was your first prom date?
Joel - no, he did not get any after prom sex.

2. Who was your first room mate?
Regina - frosh year at Syracuse.

3. What alcoholic beverage did you first drink?
Some kind of spiked punch at a friend's graduation party, after I had graduated. I was very good in high school.

4. What was your first job?
Bagger at a grocery store. I was promoted to grocery clerk and then to office clerk in my seven years' career there.

5. What was your first car?
1984 Mazda GLC - the little blue tank that was perfect for carting around cheerleading equipment.

6. When did you go to your first funeral?
1993 - my grandpa Rafferty.

7. Who was your first grade teacher?
I have no idea. We had one, who I think may have been Mrs. Rudolph, who got pregnant and left, and then we had a substitute who put tape on my mouth because I talked too much. I think her name was Mrs. Menke...but I could be wrong.

8. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane?
Tempe, Arizona for the Fiesta Bowl back when Syracuse was good at football.

9. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with?
I snuck out when I was seventeen to have a conversation with my boyfriend. We were breaking up and he showed up at my house at 230am.

10. Who was your first best friend and are you still friends?
Kristen and yes.

11. Where was your first sleepover?
I stayed across the street at Dee Ann's house. I was so nervous I got up at 3am and walked home. This stunned everyone and I never had to sleep over at someone's house again. Smile. I like my own damn bed.

12. Who is the first person you talk to in the morning?
The husband, who is a grouchy old man, usually.

13. Whose wedding were you in the first time?
I was in my father's friend from high school's wedding as a very little girl. I still have the flower girl's dress. No memory of it.

14. What is the first thing you do in the morning?
Go to the bathroom.

15. What was the first concert you ever went to?
Sheena Easton - I giggle as I write that.

16. First celebrity crush?
Harrison Ford - I was Princess Leah so, of course, I loved Harrison Ford.

17. First crush?
I don't know. I never really had a crush as every guy I could date wanted to date me, so, um, no crushes.

18. First TRUE love?
Paul - the current husband, all the others were practice.

19. When was your first detention?
Never - I was a perfect high school student.

20. When was your first kiss?
On the Draper School Playground with Tom Nasadoski in 7th grade...okay, he might be my first love, not TRUE, but probably first love.

Over A Week

It has been over a week, so let me tell you what I have been doing.

1. Writing a book - revising my dissertation into book manuscript format.
2. Babysitting my friends' pets - they don't have wireless Internet, so needless to say I was in a drought.
3. Grading, grading, grading - over 60 exams with 20 short answer questions each (why do I assign these?), 25 10-15 page papers, 15 20-25 page papers, 2 7-8 page papers (again, I mean seriously, why do I assign these?)
4. Christmas shopping - when your family lives in New York because you were evil enough to move to Utah, you have to ship presents... SHIP ... the post office kicks serious ass, but not really enough to make all that at all okay.
5. Working on my third year review file - it's due January 15th, but you know, I come by the type A personality honestly, I am a Murray.
6. I am the new department adviser (because, you know, I had NOTHING else to do...smile...so I volunteered when our other adviser went on sabbatical (why do I do these things?)) so I have been advising students - what is wrong with these people? It is holiday break and in they come for advice...dude, I didn't go near my school over the holidays in undergraduate.
7. Joined a new gym and promptly slept through my first class because I was so freakin' tired.
8. Parties, parties, parties.
9. Watched Paul play lacrosse in a professional arena and noticed that when he's full of it, he checks people from behind! WTF happened to my sweet-natured husband? sports.

So there you have it. I have been lax in my blogging duties because I have had too much damn stuff to do!

Writing Writing Writing

I have hundreds of pages to read in order to grade all these students and provide them with the grade they earned. But more importantly to me this holiday break, I have hundreds of pages to write.

I am in the process of rewriting my dissertation into a book. My decision is to do a drastic rewrite, making it more accessible and better at delivering the argument I make. My second decision was to do this over holiday break so no students would be around. As a result, I am a writing fool.

One of the bitches of teaching at a 4/4 is that I have no time to do research. Students believe that professor exist to kiss their ass...oh no, I mean, students believe professors exist to read their papers, grade their papers, grade their assignments, talk about their personal lives (this one particularly shocks me as I always think, we're not friends, why on earth are you telling me this?), and generally wait with bated breath for them to knock on our door. The problem with these beliefs is that they aren't true but I am a good person so I like to be available for all my students whenever they need me. Maybe I'm supposed to be a therapist...I don't know.

I exist to do political science. I teach at a 4/4 to bring new generations into the study of politics. In order for me to do this properly, I need to do research. I need to stop being available all the time to students.

The Results Are In

Today we got re-measured for boot camp to see our results. So here they are:

• 1 pound of weight loss (boo)
• 9% of body fat lost (cheers)
• 16 pounds of body fat lost (cheers)
• 5% of body water gained (cheers)
  

Overall I am happy with this result. I mean you would think if you worked out 3X a week you would actually lose a lot more than 1 pound, but 16 pounds of body fat is huge! HUGE! And my body fat percentage is now in a healthy range so that rocks! My teacher said I would probably do much better in the second boot camp (which I am starting the second week of January) because I will start in better shape and can push myself more. I will also probably switch from my Weight Watchers diet to her boot camp diet so I can maximize the weight loss.

But I am happy. I never missed a day (which I think makes me unique in the class) and I worked very hard and I feel great.

My Cousins Down Under

I just discovered a comment from my fabulous cousin in Australia. I was so happy to see her comment - even though it was a sad post she was responding to - that I felt the need to just wax about my Australian cousins.

My grandmother came from Australia, which is still home even though she has lived in the United States for more than sixty years and only lived there about 25. She was a WWII bride and ended up living in Rotterdam, New York for her entire life. Her younger brother had four children who all had children and as a result, I have many first cousins once removed and second cousins in Australia. They are wonderful and I love to see my family, which, amazingly enough, has happened with not too infrequent regularity.

When I earned my Ph.D. all I asked for from my father was a trip to Australia and he took me (which is really nice gift for graduation). We went for about 3 weeks in the summer of 2003 and I am dying to get back. I keep hoping I will somehow be able to do a faculty exchange there so I can spend a bunch of time and not be just a visitor.

Anyway...thank you so much for commenting, Sue, and I can't wait to see you again!

Cats!

After a sad day yesterday, I wanted some comfort food. So I baked. I baked a yellow cake that I was planning on frosting today with some delicious white frosting (my favorite kind of cake). I like to let my cakes cool over night for best frosting application. As I have dogs who are basically goats, I put the cake up high so they couldn't get to it. This morning I woke up at 530am to go to boot camp. Bleary-eyed I walked my way through the kitchen to leave and noticed that 1/3 of my cake was eaten! My little kitty cat nibbles!

My cat or cats - unclear who is or are the culprit(s) - got up there and ate 1/3 of my comfort food. MY comfort food. This made me yell. Since, however, I have laughed every time I think about it.

Goddamn animals!

My Cousin has Died

I received a call this morning from my mother to tell me that my first cousin once removed (my mother's first cousin) died of a heart attack in the night last night. She was 66 years old. I am very sad. My mother is devastated. And there is nothing I can do. If I lived at home I could drive to my mother's house and give her a hug...these are the ways that living so far away hurt sometimes.

I, being somewhat spiritually bent, know that somewhere Josephine is being initiated into the afterlife. My grandfather and his four brothers (which includes Josephine's father and her four uncles) have probably welcomed her and are showing her the ropes. I imagine she has reconnected with the baby she lost and the baby I lost and the baby my aunt has lost and is probably giving them hugs...Josephine was a hugger. I take solace in this knowledge, but I am sad because I will never hear her call me "darlin'" in her Maine accent again. I will never receive another Christmas card with a great letter from her again. I will never be able to turn to her again when my mother is driving me crazy. And I will never be able to visit her home in Maine again and know I am home as well.

My heart is heavy and I am weary of all this loss.

In Excelsis Deo

This weekend a very good friend of mine, her husband, my husband and I went to see Vivaldi's Gloria. It was fabulous. Two of my students were in the choir and it was fun to support them in their musical endeavors. But mostly, jeesh I love Vivaldi. I mean, truly love Vivaldi. Much better than Handel and a great way to start the Christmas season.

Then we went out to a bar and drank, which was just as fabulous. My friend and her husband are veterinarians and told us some great stories about animals. It was fun. A great end to a great weekend.

This is Why Democrats are Important in Congress

Today in the New York Times:

The Bush administration is withdrawing a plan to let big polluters
report less often on what they spew from their smokestacks.

We will hear lots of conversations about how Democrats aren't impeaching Bush, or that Democrats aren't forcing a troop withdrawal from Iraq, because these are the big ticket items that the media need to focus on to justify their existence. But the truth is, it is this that makes the Democratic takeover of Congress so important. Our bread and butter issues, including those that entail the government actually regulating the operations of big business. In the hands of the Republicans, industry gets away with whatever it wants (Panic of 1896, Great Depression, Teapot Dome Scandal, Enron...the list is endless). While they sell their neo-conservative foreign policy to a terrified populace and their pro-life/pro-family policy to hard line Christians, behind the scenes they allow big business - who is truly and has always truly been their only constituent - to run rampant over the private lives of everyday Americans.

While others will lament the lack of revenge in Congress, I will say, the fact that the business-backed Bush has withdrawn a plan to allow business to hide more pollution is a perfect demonstration as to why my party has to keep winning.

My Very Dear Friend

When I moved to Utah many people suggested I would be lonely, or it would be horrible to be away from family, or being far from roots would be debilitating. As luck would have it, I have no idea if this is true as I met a wonderful family within a year of arriving here. They have very nicely adopted me into their group and forgive me when I forget to call.

But mostly, they got me through the worst time of my life last year just by being around. This year, my surrogate mom has said she will donate blankets to the hospital Nic-U in honor of my baby who died. I am not sure I am sufficiently corny enough - you know, we stoic Victorian types have a hard time with emotion - to demonstrate often enough how much I love her and her family and how much I know they have done for me.

Thank you for everything.

Let it Snow Let it Snow Let it Snow

The snow has begun to fall here in northern Utah and it is beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. My cats are a bit pissed that they can't go outside - they can, but as they are morally opposed to snow, they feel they can't - and the dogs are thrilled to run around in the snow. And, of course, boot camp was inside, so no figure 8 or monster hill.

But mostly I want to comment on the fact that my road has not been nor will it ever this winter be plowed. In Utah, the people pride themselves on paying no taxes. I guess Westerners feel very strongly that there should be no government services. In New York, we paid taxes - and, lo and behold, we had a better economy than does most of the world and certainly better than Utah, so clearly paying taxes doesn't ruin the economy as some of our more friendly Republicans would have us believe.

Here is a list of things I had in New York where people paid taxes:

• Best per pupil funding for education in the nation.
• Streets were always plowed within 24 hours so no one died unnecessarily.
• Instead of the $110 a year for car registration I pay in Utah, I paid $45 for two years.
• Garbagemen picked up everything you put on the street, everything.
• You got to hand in your cans for $.05 a can, which was nice for kids raising money.

The list could go on and on. My good friend once called New York, "the People's Republic of New York" - she's in Arizona. And I laughed. But when I slip and slide down my road, which I will do for the rest of the winter, I think a little about how I miss the good people of New York.

Idiot Students

It's that time of year again when I move into student presentations and away from lectures. And my head explodes.

Things I have heard/read:

• (in response to the question: what exactly is your thesis) I did a kind of scattershot thinking paper. Just because it's different doesn't mean it's wrong.
  
• (assignment turned in for a 5-7 page book review) You mean two pages isn't enough to review Robert Putnam's Bowling Alone? I mean, why not?
  
• (email) Professor, I sent you my paper for you to post at midnight last night. It is now 7am, why isn't it posted yet?

Why do students think it is okay to do these kinds of things? Do they have no perspective on their place in the universe?

ARGH!!!

Christmas Movies

My favorite Christmas movie is Love Actually. Today it's playing on USA as we gear up for the Christmas season. Why do I love this movie? All the different types of love that are displayed: adulterous love, unrequited love, young love, first love, international love, love after death, love after adultery, a stepfather's love for his stepson, a good friend's love for her friend, inappropriate love between an employer and subordinate, the best friend's hidden love for the girl, a sister's love for a disabled brother, and so on and so on. No resolutions necesssary. No profound declarations with political meaning. No daunting questions to address after you're done watching. Just fun depictions of the many types of love.

I adore this movie. Maybe this year someone will buy it for me for Christmas and then I can watch it all the time, even in July.

5th Year Anniversary

Today is the fifth anniversary of Paul and my wedding date. I have been friends with this guy for ten years, been in love with him for eight years, and now am lucky enough to have been married to him for five years. Sometimes I am amazed that after years of reading historical romances that I actually found the guy who was my soul mate. It seems so corny.

Here's a love shout out to my baby, my best friend, the best looking guy I know...I love you.

Thanksgiving

Today the husband and I went to have Thanksgiving dinner with some friends, which was delicious. We then played cards, which was fun and fabulous. Then I got nauseous, which was not so good. Did I eat too much? I didn't have seconds and I only had one scoop of each delicious item offered. Was it the diet coke? Could have been. It's been two weeks since I have had any diet coke and I drank quite a bit today. Or was it some weird combination of foods? I have this strange tendency to get very nauseous as a result of eating seafood and steak - neither of which alone makes me sick but together is lethal.

Whatever it was I was very embarassed to have to run out of the house because I had to throw up. I mean, my friends may love me (or maybe they don't) but I don't think they'd appreciate my puking all over their gorgeous hard wood floors.

Spinning

This week is Thanksgiving (in case you didn't notice this big holiday coming up) so boot camp is canceled on Thursday and Friday. In an effort to be a good exerciser, I went to boot camp this morning. We ran the hill (half of the figure eight) twice with an 8lb medicine ball. Then we went in to spin. Spinning is riding an exercise bike in the dark with loud music and your boot camp instructor yelling at you. At one point she came around and made sure all of our resistance knobs were turned all the way up, so I subtly turned my up before she got there. I always thought spinning would be fun...and it was, but it kicked my ass. I was so sweaty that I couldn't open my eyes.

God I love boot camp.

4.2 Miles

I bought a little pedometer last week. I am trying to get to 10,000 steps a day, which doesn't seem like that big a deal until you realize just how goddamn many steps that is. Needless to say, I have thus far failed to meet my goal. Today was my boot camp day which involved a series of obstacles...I guess, an obstacle course. We did jacks with medicine balls, jumped up stairs, skated, long jumped across the gym, climbed the wall (this is my particular favorite as my very good friend is my partner and she can run over the wall while I heave and shove myself up it and down it), we did abs and abs and abs, ski jumps, lat pull downs, bicep curls, etc etc etc, with each set of torture offset by a 2 lap sprint (I was happy today because I actually passed people...woo hoo!). I decided to wear my little pedometer to get a feel for how far and how many steps we go when we aren't on a cardio day (oh yes, this was NOT a cardio day). We stepped 4.2 miles...4.2 miles! On a non-cardio day. I can't wait to wear the pedometer for the figure 8.

I imagine I may get to my 10,000 steps today.

Wasteland

Okay, a couple of posts ago I was bragging about the skiing and how beautiful it is here and blah blah blah...well here's a reason why I don't like living in Ogden, UT. I wanted to go see For Your Consideration (I love these movies: Spinal Tap, Best in Show, Waiting for Guffman, A Mighty Wind...I keep waiting for them to do an academic conference or a Winterguard show or a Band Camp) and it hasn't come here yet. So, I have to wait a week.

It's beautiful here but sometimes it feels like a cultural wasteland.

Borat

Last night two girlfriends and I went to see the movie Borat. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. And when I wasn't laughing my stomach hurt as I anxiously waited for what horrible thing he was going to say next - the same reaction I used to have to Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Things I learned from Borat:

• Rodeo people are homophobic;
• High society women in the South would rather have a bag of shit at their table than a black stripper;
• Black kids in the inner city are the friendliest to people from out of town;
• Frat boys are stupid and wish slavery would return;
• Mortgage brokers do not know what to do when two naked men wrestle through their banquet;
• Pamela Anderson has a good sense of humor;
• and...that dude from Cambridge is hilarious!
  

My Old Car

I have an old car. In case you didn't realize about me, the deal is I only drive a car that gets good mileage because I don't care what it looks like. I have no aesthetic conceptualization capacity when it comes to automobiles...or, I can't figure out why a mustang is a good looking car and a sedan is not. I just don't get it at all. So, I drive whatever car I have that happens to work.

Currently I am driving a hand me down which was bought used by my mother. My husband is driving the car I bought new eight years ago and paid off in perfect time without ever having missed a payment or having been late. I don't know if Paul would prefer a car that is pretty, but he doesn't seem to care either as long as his Sirius works. My car now does not have a left directional, which means I have to drive with my hand out indicating when I am turning left. This sucks. Mostly because it sucks to hang your hand out the window and now that it is snowing my window doesn't always work. I am planning on taking it to the mechanic this week and hopefully he can fix it. But my understanding of Mazdas, especially ten year old ones, is their parts aren't made very often so I may be driving with my left hand out for some time now. And as I do not want a car payment, it could be for quite a while.

BTW, to all my skiing friends, the resorts are opening Wednesday...now ask me again, why do I live in Utah? Oh yeah, it's frickin' beautiful and I can frickin' ski before Thanksgiving...

the New Vacuum

Husband and I have five animals: three cats and two dogs with lots of hair. Our vacuum broke down a couple of weeks ago so we bought a new vacuum. By Bissel called lift off and especially made for pets. It is fabulous. I cannot believe how well it cleaned my carpet. Of course I had to keep emptying the dirt thing and I had to maintain the vacuum instantly as the driver belt was covered in hair...but my carpets look fantastic!

Woo hoo new vacuum!

Animals

I am sitting here watching Numbers (I love this show...makes me wish I had done more math...could someone write the quadratic equation on the board please?) with a Hector meow leaning on my left arm, a Hobbes dog's head on my right arm (making it kind of hard to type), Scully is over there taking a bath, and my little Macamoo dog is sleeping on my feet.

My animals are fantastic. They all take such good care of me. I love them. I love my puppies and my kitties and their efforts to keep me from doing too much work.

My Teachers

Last night I saw David McCullough speak - who knew he was the voice of Seabiscuit, well probably many people did but I figured it out last night listening to him speak - and he was wonderful. Intelligent, insightful, witty. I need to read more than 1776 of his books because I think they were probably pretty good. Dr. McCullough discussed education and teachers. And the turning on to the love of learning that teachers give students. So, this morning, I am listing those teachers who turned me on. Wherever you are, I still admire you, I still remember you, and I thank you.

Mrs. Kniskern
Mrs. Schmee
Mrs. Harrison
Ms. Smith
Mr. Hall
Mr. Bournazian
Dr. Stonecash
Dr. Provine
Dr. Christensen
Dr. Malbin
Dr. Miroff
Dr. Hildreth

Run Forrest Run

When I watched Forrest Gump, the thing I was most impressed by was his running. My lord, the man ran from Maine to California. I can barely run down the street.

Today in boot camp we ran backwards up the major hill, down and then around the "little hill" (the little hill is the one I have to downshift to get up) and then backwards up the major hill, down and then around the little hill, and then straight up the big hill and into some neighborhood. I almost died. I almost got lost. I was very pathetic.

And to top it all off it was RAINING...RAINING. I was soaking wet at the end of the whole ordeal. It was unclear how much of the soak was coming up from my sweaty body or coming in from the rain.

I keep hoping that like Forrest Gump the running will become something I love to do, but as yet, that state of zen has alluded me.

What Goes Around Comes Around

Twelve years ago I was a junior in college at Syracuse University. I watched the returns in the Newhouse building. I remember Cuomo lost New York that night, and to add insult to injury the Democrats lost everything. Everything. I was young and politically romantic. My first vote went to Bill Clinton for president. And I watched the returns crying and crying. I remember my professor saying, "it's not like they will stake babies in the street." And I thought he totally doesn't get it.

Last night I ran around the house like an idiot - the same way I did when Syracuse won the basketball national championship - and called my father at 1130pm his time to tell him his idiot of a republican member had been ousted. In Greene County, a Democrat had won! Woo hoo. Of course I am a bit dismayed by all the damn "ban gay marriage - no equal rights for gays" initiatives, but all this in time.

I was very happy that every state that had a minimum wage hike, voted to hike it. Maybe the workers of the world are uniting! Remember, I can now carry an 8 pound medicine ball far distances!

Election Day in Utah

Election Day in Utah seems a bit useless. As a rule, the state will vote Republican except for Jim Matheson, who may as well be a Republican. It is a conservative, traditionalistic state to which the status quo is better than any change, even if it took people in a better direction. This is all okay. I am okay with all of this. My friend last night suggested that he and I had never lived somewhere where it mattered where we voted so what was the point.

At first, I agreed with that until I started to think about where I have lived. I grew up in Rotterdam, New York which was a Democratic party machine forever. Thus, no point to vote. Then as I moved, it switched over to a Republican party system. Hmm. Then I lived in Syracuse, New York, in Jim Walsh's district. Syracuse as a city grew up as a Republican machine in opposition to the Democratic machine in NYC (kind of interesting, I think). No one should ever win there who is not a Republican. Except Jim Walsh is in trouble this year. Then I lived in Coxsackie, NY (hahahaha, I know it's a funny name) which is in the district of Sweeny. This district is especially drawn for a Republican by the NY Senate to cover every house near Albany that is a voting Republican. This guy has been guaranteed the election by his district drawing. And he just might lose today. And those changes just might depend on people saying even though it doesn't matter if I vote, I will vote anyway.

So off I head to the new machines here in Utah (I will probably blog this experience later) to cast my vote where it doesn't matter if I vote.

And, for the record (for anyone who is keeping a record), today in boot camp I climbed a wall and did the football jump string thing (I am sure that's not the name) with a 20 - 25lb backpack on my back after doing push ups, ski jumps, jump ropes, walking push ups, tricep pull downs, etc etc. When the workers of the world unite, I will be ready for the war!

All Souls' Day

Yesterday was All Souls' Day for the Catholic Church. What this means is we pray for all the souls and the people who have died. This day never meant anything to me before but now it comes on the anniversary (or near the anniversary) of my baby's dying. And my church puts her name up on the wall as one of its "beloved dead." Many people will forget that I lost a baby last year, and I understand why...before it happened to me I never understood how people could be so upset about losing a baby as a stillborn. Some people will remember (and have already mentioned they remembered) who know me well and know how awful this time last year was.

I draw solace from the fact that my church community will pray for her and that she was remembered by them without my prompting. While the world marches on (which sometimes boggles my mind as I feel every rock and tree has changed), my church mourns with me.

Being a Democrat

I have always been a Democrat. When I registered to vote when I was 17 I registered as a Democrat. Every time I have registered since I have done so. Then I had the bright idea of getting involved in party leadership...and I think I am going to unregister myself here in Utah. I am embarassed to have my name connected with a number of these people. Some Democrats here I love (husband and best friends) and some Democrats I admire very much (my mentor in the party and previous county chair) but holy crap there are some Democrats who are testing my time worn attitude about weapons.

Last night I was feeling pretty good about myself. I was a panelist on the local PBS station's CD 1 debate (then of course I saw myself and realized those 3 cameras on me added 30 pounds...or that I have a lot of work to do at boot camp) and came home loving life. Hit play on the answering machine to have some man threatening prosecution because some Democrats put signs on his lawn without his permission apparently at 6am yesterday morning.

WTF!?! What idiot Democrat snuck on to someone's yard and placed a sign at 6am? Oh, wait, I know, it's that annoying family which seems determined to embarass us all. Eris, you know about whom I speak! I do NOT want to be associated with these people. They are stupid, they are vindictive, they are nasty, they are mean (the latter three wouldn't bother me so much if they were smart...like I kind of respect Karl Rove because man the dude can work the politics...it's the stupid that really gets my hackles up) and they are causing ME to have messages on MY personal answering machine. That's it. I am out of this Utah party.

Watch world, Idaho will go Democrat and Utah will stay Republican until the end of time because of these types of people who seem to populate the party here. ARGH!!

UT 1 Debate Panelist

The fame of the Duchess grows and grows. Not only does she provide organizational advice to hopeless friends but she also grills Congressional candidates with tough questions. That is, of course, if she can come up with some tough questions.

Tomorrow I will be a panelist on the KBYU Bishop-Olsen debate. This election here is a squeaker, much like the rest of the nation, um, no wait, it's Utah. This election will be a landslide. But we go through the motions of democracy and I will be on the television asking questions. What will I wear? Hmmm.

Any ideas for questions? Please send them along.

Prom Night

Last night a friend of mine decided to have a prom. It was FABULOUS!!! I really enjoyed it. I danced for 4 1/2 hours (hey - boot camp lady - I lost 3 pounds since yesterday...so clearly all I need is hip hop and no figure 8) dressed as a flapper going to the prom. It was so much fun.

I will never get over wanting to dress up. Of course I don't look as good as I once did, but I still love curling my hair (but then I realized I no longer have hair spray, hard to get those curls to stay in without some aqua net) and putting on too much make up and wearing high heels.

And my date (husband of course) was going to get some prom sex, except he passed out from too much alcohol and then threw up all night...smile...love the prom!

a Little Politics

What a fun election we have coming up in 2006. Midterm elections are never exciting excepting their commentary on the president (1994 for example) but this year they are fabulous in their own right.

But this is nothing, compared to what will happen in 2008. This is the first time since 1952 (Eisenhower v Stevenson) that we have an open presidential election. Meaning, that neither an incumbent nor the vice president of the incumbent (with the inherited agenda) has run for president. Ooh la la bring on the primaries. Bring on the campaign ads. Bring on the fun.

You think the Republicans are nasty in midterms, wait until you see them in an open election running against each other for the annointing...

the Figure 8

Or...the hills of death.

My boot camp is situated in a valley, kind of, and to get out I have to downshift in my little Mazda. So today we are told, go run the figure 8. We head out to a run that begins straight up, runs straight down, turn right, straight up, run straight down. Remember the Duchess has shin splints. So I sigh and I start to run (well maybe plod along at a trotting pace). By the top of the first hill I am wheezing. By the bottom of the first hill my calves and shins start to explode. I begin up the second hill and I start limping. I make it to the top, turn around and limp back. At which time I am supposed to sprint 3 times across the parking lot. Well, I could barely walk, much less sprint. But I did the figure 8, the whole damn thing, limping for 50% of it

That's called powering through...I think...um, where's my cake?

Moral Indignation Averted

One thing I cannot stand about myself is how I get hurt feelings, tremendously, highly sensitive, hard to rationally pull myself back together, hurt feelings. This is why I will never run for office, I do not have a thick skin. Case in point, but I was proud of the outcome.

Today I get shin splints again...well I guess I'll have them forever but they HURT...so I ask the boot camp trainer about it. She replies, look you can quit or you can power through it. And I sheepishly walk away and say, no no, I don't want to quit, I just want to make sure I am not doing more damage. By the time I get in my car, I am completely pissed that she was so dismissive. I mean, damnit, they HURT. And, damnit, I don't want to be told to just quit, I want to be told some neat stretches to do, or something. By the time I was halfway home, I am completely in realization that I am not pissed at her but at myself for asking the damn question. I know the two options with shin splints are quit or power through it and I wonder at why I asked...is it because I want her to know how painful this is and how fantastic I am that I am powering through it? And I think (despair despair) the answer is yes...ARGH! How silly to want her to know that! By the time I am home, I am dancing into the house (like I have after every boot camp because I feel great) thinking I will power through this and it will hurt but it will be fabulous.

My feelings were hurt (as they usually are) but I was able to rationally pull out of it within 15 minutes...that may be a new record.

Oh, and, shin splints be damned!

Shin Splints?!?

Boot camp has delivered another punch: shin splints. I haven't had shin splints since the 9th grade when I really hurt myself running in track practice. Since then I have avoided any kind of fierce running, now I remember why. 99% of boot camp is running and 67% of that is sprinting. SPRINTING! Seriously, are 32 year old women supposed to be sprinting?

Note to self: don't wear 4 year old cross trainers to a boot camp that is 99% running, wear the brand new running shoes you bought over the summer in an attempt to kick start your exercise.

Oh, and, I am 32. Now I can actually swear...nice fat f-words and c-words...and I am exercising with a bunch of Mormons who look at me like I am the antichrist when I say "!@#$%" at the end of a particularly tough sprint up hill. Well, hell, I am going to swear anyway and if I happen to say something that seems like it is anatomically impossible, deal with it!

Pain Sets In

Yesterday was fantastic, this morning was not so hot. Smile. My body aches every where and I can feel the muscles that were used for the medicine ball throwing. I just stood in the shower letting hot water soothe aching muscles. And of course I am completely not into using medicine, so I am suffering through this in the stoic way I handle all things that bother me.

I also ended up with a harsh headache yesterday all day that I believe came from too little water. If you are going to work out the way I did, you need to hydrate. Reminder to self from when I use to work out a lot. My friend, Sharon, thinks that exercise also releases toxins so maybe the headache was from the toxins in my body. I seem to remember that from taking Ashtanga yoga years ago, so maybe that's also correct.

But, even with the headache, I felt great. I was wide awake from the moment I got home until the moment I went to sleep at 10pm last night. No afternoon slumps. No zoning outs during lectures.

Welcome back exercise!

Boot Camp Rocks!

Okay, so 6am did suck, but boot camp was fantastic. I arrived to pick up my devastatingly beautiful friend Sharon (who I think looks like the lead actress in Gray's Anatomy and she was told that today by our boot camp instructor as well so I have some evidence that I am correct) at 525am. Yes it's dark. Yes not even God is awake yet. We drive over to the club, which Sharon cannot find in the dark, so it takes us a little while.

We run for 10 minutes. We then do all sorts of strange circuit training things like the football string exercise and ski jumping around cones and hurling a medicine ball at each other. This is sporadically interrupted by running for a lap or two. Then we do a million sit ups and get our body fat weighed. UGH.

Well, I didn't need to have my body fat measured to know that I have body fat. But what I discovered was very interesting, apparently I have so much muscle mass that I will have 0 - 1% body fat at 130 pounds. This means that when I weighed 125 pounds in high school and college and thought I was fat because my friends weighed 115 pounds, I was actually super skinny. In fact, I had no fat at all. Too bad I didn't know that then, those bouts of bulemia could have been avoided, and I might have actually worked to keep it off. But, I'm on the way to a new, fitter, more fabulous Duchess. And my instructor says it's not impossible for people to lose 20 pounds, so may Christmas will be fantastic!

Go Weight Watchers! Go boot camp! Size 5's, here I come...now do I still have those really skinny jeans???

The Body

This week I finally weighed less than I did when I got pregnant a year and a half ago. So, basically, I am back to the weight I was when I had gained more weight than ever after a surgery two years ago. I have lost 23 pounds. Which doesn't sound like much, but for me, it is. I love to eat and unfortunately I have no tragic allergies to wheat or yeast or whatever all the skinny people have. So, I fight every day not to eat great food.

This week I start boot camp with a girlfriend. Time to kick it up a notch and have exercise play a larger role in my weight loss. I enjoy exercise, problem was I was so big I was worried about having a heart attack with anything too intense, but now I'm back to a place where I can actually do high powered aerobic exercise and my heart won't explode. I'll probably still turn purple, but I won't die from it. So, Sharon (gorgeous, tall, skinny friend of mine...I need to get some more fat, short, ugly friends to make myself feel better...strike that, I need to any fat, short, ugly friend) and I are going at 6am Tues, Thurs, Fri to boot camp. 8 weeks. Results guaranteed. If I can lose 15 pounds doing this I will be back to the weight of grad school (which is still way more than undergrad, but way less than post-pregnancy) and all my clothes will fit again.

But, 6 am is going to SUCK!

My Bohemian Self

I have a vague sense of deja vu that I have perhaps written about this before...but oh well...here goes.

I just watched Rent the movie. I have seen Rent on Broadway. I love this musical. I have the soundtrack. I love the soundtrack. I made husband watch it (grudgingly as he is not a fan of musicals) and he kept saying oh yeah you love this song...because he's heard all the songs a million times having been with me ever since I saw the original musical.

I love that people dying of AIDS are shown with compassion and without judgment. How many times have I heard someone say you get AIDS because you have done something wrong (drugs, casual sex)? How often have we heard some crazy wacko say AIDS is the cure? In how many ways can we treat people badly? And..thank God people like Jonathan Larson write musicals to challenge the way we think. To challenge the mainstream.

I also like to think that in some parallel universe there is a Duchess who doesn't love dishes and Burberry and Levenger and wasn't committed to walking the straight and narrow all the time.

That Duchess is a Bohemian...I bet she is having a fabulous life.

It's Been Too Long

I have been quiet. Smile. I am never quiet.

What to say?

Interesting to watch those values-Republicans wriggle under the heat of a focused populace. Fantastic to drive through the canyon seeing all the beautiful fall foliage and realizing New England doesn't beat Utah for sheer beauty. Fun to watch new seasons of Battlestar Galactica and Dr. Who. Stressed writing my dissertation into a book and getting my 3rd year review together all at the same time.

Happy to be chosen as a "fun" professor to participate in jeopardy.

Life's good.

I Kind of Like Being Catholic

Much to the dismay of my father (who honestly believes my Church is the Anti-Christ... on those days he believes in Christ...on other days we are the Axis of Evil) I am a practicing, acting, relatively good Catholic.

So I am defensive against my father and his wife and her family all of whom think the Catholic Church is evil. For a whole list of perceived snubs by the Church against their persons and against people in general.

I am also defensive against the majority religion here in Utah, the LDS faith, all of whom think the Catholic Church would be so much better if all its members just jumped ship and became Mormon. I'll never forget that young, earnest missionary saying, we don't like to think of Christ on the cross, which is the hallmark of your religion... after which my husband politely asked them to leave.

I am also defensive against my husband (a little bit here) who is more of a secular humanist and is concerned with the blind faith intelligent people have in a myth. He is also concerned with the vast steps to the right the Church sometimes takes.

Yesterday I went to the Pastoral Congress (God bless their hearts, those Utah Catholics, planning their Pastoral Congress on the same weekend as the Mormon General Conference which is all we hear about in Utah this weekend) and found some new reasons to be defensive. So, Dad, LDS friends, and Husband (and all you others who question my faith) watch out...I'm ready for the next argument!!

The Pro-Life table said: make abortions rare, discuss options with women...none of this blow up the clinic talk.

The Legislation table said: as Catholics we need to push for better health care, more care for our elderly, better education, stopping the death penalty, a living wage...none of this gay marriage ban stuff.

The Mass was bilingual...none of this English ought to be the most official language stuff.

The keynote speaker discussed the power of mythic story in the Bible...none of this Biblical literalism and we hate science crap.

The Youth Bibles were written with teenagers in mind...none of this 16 year olds ought to love to read arcane literature from 2000 years ago bull.

So, Catholic detractors, bring it on. I defy you to say that all these things (and this is an exhaustive list...not a cherry picked list) are not in line with what I, as an intelligent woman, would argue.

Oh No! I'm Over 24!

I was reminded the other day of the way I felt when I was young. I used to believe that if I hadn't done all the amazing things I was going to do by the time I was 24, I might as well die!

Well as it turns out I am 32, I haven't done anything amazing, and I don't really want to die.

What makes us give ourselves some kind of expiration date? Maybe I will do something amazing when I'm 80.

my Husband's Out of Town

My husband is out of town this week. He left yesterday and won't be home until Saturday. Luckily my friends are filling the void. I get to go out to dinner and I get phone calls and everyone is making sure to take care of me. Smile. It's fabulous.

It's also fabulous to get the television all to myself. And it's fabulous to get the bed all to myself (except for those two 80 pound labradors, of course). And I enjoy wandering around the house in various stages of undress without sucking in my stomach (well maybe I'm still sucking in my stomach). And I ignore the phone. And it's so quiet. So quiet.

Maybe tonight I'll play Justin Timberlake really loudly and dance. That would completely freak out the dogs....

Hallelujah!! Aaron Sorkin is Back

I love Studio 60. I love Matthew Perry. I love Josh ... I mean whatever the hell his new name is now. I love the redheaded dude from 30 something. I love Amanda Peet. I love Studio 60.

Thank God we have someone on television, well for that matter, anywhere, who is willing to fight back. Today I sat through a 40 minute lesson about how everything that was wrong with the world was either George McGovern's fault or Gore's fault for not accepting the results of elections. Oh and also the liberal media which only covers the problems in Iraq because controversy sells. Whatever the hell that meant. I sat there and listened. I sat there and had my students listen. Doing good for our community. I was so bummed about it all. (and I didn't even yell, what in the m-f hell planet are you from?) I couldn't even work up a good laugh about it. And then, tonight, I watched Studio 60 on my Tivo (oh yes, thank God as well for Tivo) and was re-enthralled with the possibilities. To take on that stupid 700 Club (who, by the way, claimed that Dover, PA was being punished by God for their votes...ummm, accept results of elections...hmmm?) in the first episode! To have a major character be a Christian and thus offer some counterpoint. To have it be television to offer some relief to this droning, nagging discontent that seems to pervade all of political discourse.

Thank you, Mr. Sorkin, for coming back and offering us some new stuff to talk about. Absolutely fabulous!

You can Get Anything you Want

at Alice's Restaurant

I love this song. It brings back happy memories. Yes, actually happy memories from my life before now. Doesn't seem possible that I had any happy memories, but there are some. Generally they are triggered by foods, smells, or songs. My good friend played Alice's Restaurant last night for me. And I just sat and smiled. And I kind of shrugged in time to the music. And I remembered every Thanksgiving and 103.1 the Edge playing Alice's Restaurant at noon. I remembered being in my high school bedroom picking out an outfit for Thanksgiving. Life, while harsh at times, was sometimes good.

And, um, I don't think you should dump that garbage there.

A Little Perspective on 9/11

Today was 9/11. I was reminded all day about how powerful my feelings of community were then. I was so American...I mean really American. I was all about going after whoever the hell did this. I was all about singing the national anthem and being a patriot. And then this idiot president ruined everything. We had a chance, a moment to be brilliant and fabulous. And because we had the most selfish man on the planet in history as our president, nothing changed for the better. Everything got worse! We needed a hero and we got a numnuts. And I was feeling kind of mad about it. And I was feeling kind of mad at Democrats for not rising above it and being better. And I was mad at ABC and its bull.

And then I went to teach my 8th grade religious ed class.

These kids were 8 when 9/11 happened. They have no idea what a Republican is or a Democrat. They don't really understand why radical Muslims would hate us because they don't even know what a Muslim is. And they ask cute questions like:

"what's a Protestant?"
"if I have so many sins I can't remember them all, can I still confess?"
"how much is too much eating to count for gluttony, because I can eat a lot?"
"what's a schism (I reply, it's a cleavage)...(lots of giggling here) oh my gosh she said cleavage...we know what a cleavage is"
"do we have to drink that communion wine, I mean, that stuff tastes horrible"
"when I genuflect do I have to kneel?"
"you know you're in trouble when your penance is a prayer you've never heard of...by the way, what do I do when that happens to me?"

I am hoping that somewhere, some Muslim religious education teacher (and some Protestant religious education teacher and some LDS religious education teacher and some Jewish religious education teacher) is saying, we believe X and someone else believes Y and someone else doesn't believe anything...but it's all good. Let's make it safer for this next generation.

my Puppies Rock

I have two labrador retrievers. They are rather large (weighing in at 70lbs and 80lbs); they are rather loud (they have a tendency to speak rather loudly about strangers walking down the street); they have rather atrocious odors at times (they never say excuse me as they wipe out the room); they are rather obnoxious (stealing most of the bed most every night and eating many expensive items); and they rock.

When I found out I was losing my baby at 5 months and waited for 5 weeks for it to happen at 6 months, they spent a lot of time just being with me. My older puppy, Hobbes, took to laying his head on my stomach as if to comfort both the dying baby and me. When I don't want to get up in the morning to jog, they act as though the only thing they have been waiting for has been the chance to run very slowly with me on leashes through the neighborhood. When I took them to my very favorite place to be, Sacandaga, they loved it more than I did and took immediately to boating and swimming and hanging out in the camp. They are always thrilled to see me when I come home and sad to see me leave for work.

Today, hubby and I were having a rather loud argument. As he says, we do this about once or twice a year. We sound off at each other about nothing really serious and then we laugh at each other for being silly. So, really no big deal. But it probably sounded scary to a puppy who doesn't speak English very well. Hobbes comes strolling into the room and sits down between hubby and myself as if to say, "can't we all just get along here?" As we carried the argument into a second room (I was dusting and insisted the argument follow me so I could multitask), Hobbes followed us around, continuing to put himself between us. This cracked us up rather quickly and the argument was over.

I love my puppies.

Gardening Feels Good

I am a scholar, which doesn't mean much other than mostly what I do is think. Try to write stuff down that seems intelligent and interesting. And then think some more. It can be rewarding, but it is not obvious at all that you have done anything.

So why do I enjoy gardening? Because at the end of the gardening impulse you have done something. There are no more weeds, or the lawn is shorter, or the roses are dead headed, or there are new plants, or just about anything.

Today hubby and I moved eight plants from our front garden (where it was just a bit too crowded) to our backyard (where there was not much going on). This was a major step for Paul, who seriously has been treating our back yard like a golf green. You were barely even allowed to walk on it 3 years ago. But today, we planted five plants in the lawn and three plants in the rock garden we have. We shoveled and dug and got our hands, feet, shirts, faces and knees dirty. We tore up sod and carried heavy plants around. We even used a wheelbarrow.

And at the end of 2 hours I could say, these plants were there and now they are here. I was tired from the digging and the moving and I will sleep well tonight. That is why, I think, God says those who work with their hands are the happiest people on earth.

I am a Work in Progress

While in Philadelphia (oh yes, I was in Philadelphia which is why I have been silent, and I was fabulous in ways I cannot even describe...well I imagine I could describe them but you would be bored to tears) I had dinner with my father's friend, Bob.

First off, Bob should not be named Bob. He is clearly a Robert or something much more debonair than Bob. But Bob he is, so, I had dinner with Bob. (my father's friends are nice enough to pretend I'm interesting...which I appreciate because it allows me to think I'm cool...and also, I love that these men all knew me when my father was 21 and I was born because they are witness to my life story in ways that many people are not...but that's an entirely different story)

Bob drives a little BMW which was fantastic. It had a GPS thing (who knows what the real word is) which I was very intrigued by. And it was very nice to drive through a city in a BMW. I mean you notice how all those other cars are pathetic in a way you don't when you are driving your ten-year old Mazda. We go to a Japanese restaurant at which I say, please, I can eat anything. And I proceed to eat everything that is put on my plate (when is somebody going to buy me Japanese dishes?!?). It was delicious. It was fantastic. It was raw fish and rice and wasabi and it was great. Ten years ago I would have said to Bob, let's go to Chili's, but now, as a grown up, I can say take me where you'd like to take me and I can eat anything. And I enjoy it. I have eaten Moroccan and Thai and Japanese and Indian and I like it all. I am proud of myself. I have progressed beyond the provincialism that marked my youth growing up in a town whose closest diverse food was Italian.

Then we wander out to the parking garage. While waiting for the BMW to come back (I am struck, of course, with scenes from Ferris Bueller's Day Off), I strike up a conversation with a woman (another piece of my progress where I am polite to other people rather than pretending they aren't there). I say, those shoes are fabulous. (she's wearing those plasticy things that I actually find ugly but I understand are very comfortable). She says, yes, I work at the hospital. I say, oh are you a nurse. She says, no, I am a physician.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I made the classic gender mistake. I assumed she was a nurse because she was a she. I am an idiot. I, of course, immediately own up to my idiotness and she laughs and laughs. I, who teach women and politics, who didn't take my husband's last name, who am more gender conscious than most of the people I know, I made the gender mistake. I assumed based on a person's gender.

I am not so grown up. I have so far to go. I am still a work in progress.

I Turn 32 Today

Today I turned 32.

What do I still do as a 32 year old?

Dance in the shower.
Read historical romances.
Sing to my animals.
Listen to the same song over and over as I get ready in the morning.
Giggle.
Sleep in late whenever I can.
Own stuffed animals.
Like the Beatles.
Love Harrison Ford.
Sing loudly in the car to music.
Get my feelings hurt.
Diet.

What is new as a 32 year old?
Laugh at myself easily.
Confident in my choices and decisions.
Have close girlfriends who I enjoy spending time with.
Admit I am wrong when I am wrong rather than twisting the argument.

Fabulous to be 32.

Today I had a Coronary

I am a perpetual student...oops, I mean an academic, a scholar, a member of the intelligentsia...basically a perpetual student.

The skills of the student: writing a paper at the last minute, pulling all nighters to do the work you should have done months ago, putting everything you have to do off also until the last minute so you are working like crazy, drinking lots of coffee, typing really really fast.

I am a bit ocd, I am a fantastic planner, I took 2 years to write a dissertation and I planned it all out. But when it comes to writing 20 page papers that I am delivering for conferences, I am still that undergraduate student who said, "SHIT, it's due tomorrow, there's no more time." I have never taken an incomplete, I have never not handed in an assignment, I have never handed in an assignment late; I have always gotten it done at the last minute. And, unfortunately, it has always worked. So I continue to always do it.

Today I hopped on to pull together the paper I am presenting at the national meeting next week...a week from yesterday...at the national meeting. I go to crunch some numbers and I can't find my dataset. I spent 2 months back in January collecting data. It took 2 months, my data collection process is time consuming, and I could not find it. Two days ago (in search of the perfect apostraphe) I reorganized my computer. I deleted lots of stuff. Yesterday I decided I was so good at organizing that I could empty my recycle bin...which means it's really really gone. Today I cannot find my dataset. The sweat breaks out on my brow. I begin to panic. I feel my stomach drop to the bottom of my feet and I am instantly thinking of what the hell can I offer as a paper without any data.

Then I realized I mis-labeled it. It was there, data is crunched, interesting findings were found. I invested in box.net.

Clearly I am a Wus!

Today my husband, his brother and his brother's wife and I all went to Park City Resort to ride the Alpine Slide.

This activity costs $11 a person. You buy a ticket. You get on a chair lift (which is a lot harder to do without skis and snow than you might think). You ride up pretty high above the steep inclines. You jump off the chairlift at the midway station (which means it doesn't stop moving) and you quickly step to the left (which means if you are me you almost fall over...I almost fall over with skis on in the snow off of every chair lift as well, so for me, it's not a big surprise). You pick up a 400lb sled and drag it a mile to the slide beginning. You stand in a line with little kids screaming and adults acting stupid. You then lug the sled and put it on the bobsled looking tubey thing and sit on it. You look down and see that if you push all the way forward you are on wheels and if you pull all the way back you are on a brake. You push your way up to the edge and look down and freak out. You push off when the woman tells you to do so and (if you are me) you neither push all the way forward nor pull all the way back. This sends you in a draggy motion down a steep ride and causes the old man behind you to bump you in the behind when he catches up to you and causes your husband to laugh at you for not being brave enough to actually ride the ride.

I do not like the Alpine Slide.

Let's Go Fly a Kite

When I first married my husband I thought his family was crazy...which, of course, they are as all families are...but now I also think they are fabulous. They are different from me and I could recount many times my obsessive compulsive behaviorisms almost caused me to have a heart attack around their very laid back style, but in this, who is crazy? The laid back people or the on the brink ocd person? I leave it to you to decide.

My mother-in-law is a fantastic, feisty woman who lives her life the way she wants to live it and I admire that very much. She says what she thinks, she is very intelligent and she is loyal to her family...all of which I appreciate and think are the marks of what women should be. My father-in-law is a deep, kind man who is very sensitive to what is going on around him and what people are feeling. In the worst days of my life after I lost my baby I had long conversations with him that were the most empathetic of that whole experience and I'm not sure he realizes how much strength he gave me. My brother-in-law is a fantastic young man whose heart is always in the right place. He has his brother's back at all times and I often am envious of their sibling bond that transcends difference in ages and miles distance between them. His wife, my sister-in-law, is a sharp young woman who sees everything and I am often taken aback by her insights. Just when I think she's not paying attention, she says something that indicates she's taken it all in and is chewing on it. I enjoy conversations with her and just spending time with her.

Why am I opining on my in-law family? Because my brother-in-law and sister-in-law are here this weekend and I am having so much fun. It is great to watch my husband just completely relax with his brother, it is great to watch my sister-in-law tease my brother-in-law, in general it is great to have family around and realize that just because we live in Utah doesn't mean we don't love our family.

And also, my brother-in-law flies a kite! A kite! I have never flown a kite and I guess I have no idea how to get a kite in the air (this falls in those general areas of not knowing how to get a yo-yo to work and how to skateboard). This morning we went down to the windiest part of the canyon (which gets VERY windy) and he flew his kite. Fabulous, absolutely fabulous!

I Personally Think I am Way More Sarcastic

You Have Your Sarcastic Moments

While you're not sarcastic at all times, you definitely have a cynical edge. In your opinion, not all people are annoying. Some are dead! And although you do have your genuine moments, you can't help getting your zingers in. Some people might be a little hurt by your sarcasm, but it's more likely they think you're hilarious.

How Sarcastic Are You?

the Duchess is Crazy Technology

Today I spent hours designing stuff for my students. I won't link to those pages from here since I try to protect my anonymity a little bit (god forbid students find my private blog...that would be hell) so if you'd like to see it, send an email and I will send it out.

I have a website that has links for all sorts of fun stuff: internships, College Democrats, Pi Sigma Alpha, job opportunities, etc etc. I have a website for each class I teach. So I have a website for Campaigns and Elections that has a picture of Senator Hatch getting a haircut in a barber shop in Brigham City (would be sweet except the pic has the mirror in the background that shows the 20 or so staffers who I guess go along to watch him get his hair cut). I have a website for my Honors Government class that has this fantastic mural of the founding fathers. All of my syllabi are available on these websites (and thank you so much Captain America for your help on those syllabi!) I also have a blog so that students can check in and see what's up. Check on changes and chat with each other.

The Duchess is a techno-teacher...smile. Back in the day when I was a pup in undergraduate I had to actually go to my professor's office...shudder (um, I think I went to office hours maybe like 4 times my entire stay at SU, because, as earlier links describe, I really went to college to party and not to kiss ass)

just for something else to think about
I have a Dell laptop. I am now convinced it is going to explode and burn down my house.

I am So Smart - S-M-R-T, oops I mean -S-M-A-R-T

Look at the state this is...just too cute.

You Passed 8th Grade Geography

Congratulations, you got 8/10 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Geography?

I am Such a Loser

Last night, because I am such a loser, I sat in a movie theater with about 300 band geeks watching Drum Corps International which was being fed to select theaters around the nation via satellite. It was the quarter finals in Madison, Wisconsin and I felt like I was in band again. I watched show after show and critiqued the rifle line, the sabre line and the drum line. Of course I had no complaints of any lower brass line, as I once was lower brass and we are fabulous. I am not as much of a loser, however, as the people who sat near me who knew the names of every corps and shouted out boos to those they didn't like. I was thinking, dude, we're in a movie theater, they can't hear you. But there were many more of them than of me so I kept my mouth shut. Drum corps is fantastic. They "age out" at 21 so you can only do drum corps if you are young. And some of these kids were young.

I never did drum corps. When I was under the age of 21 I did not quite have the confidence to be that much of a band geek (one thing about band is you have to completely conform and take things very seriously and conformity and serious taking has never been a strong point of mine...I like to laugh at seriousness too much and I like to march to my own particular drummer) so I never did it. But I respond still to the marching and the drum major and the dazzle of many pinwheels.

And I will always love the drum line. I should have hooked up with a drummer at one point in my many years in band...my relationship history would include a lot more fun if I had just had sex with a drummer...smile.

oh boy Connecticut

Ned Lamont is my hero.

I am not donating to his campaign as I am not much of a fan of carpetbagging, and carpetbagging must be donating money to an election that doesn't affect you, but I am impressed. Today he leads incumbent Joe Lieberman by double digits. Double digits! Why am I happy about this? Setting aside the fact that Lieberman is a censorer (is that a word) and clearly would rather be a Republican (which isn't necessarily wrong), he is an incumbent. One of the problems in our country is the malaise that follows 95% incumbency rates in Congress. Why bother voting when everyone who's in wins again? So no one bothers voting. It's a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, of course, but it's hard to explain this to unsophisticated voters. I think every primary and every general election should be a competitive race. Period. I don't think it should be because of term limits as that is a top down solution. I think it should be because courageous Americans decide that investing in their country is important. You do not need money to challenge someone (although it helps), all you need is ideas, energy and courage.

For the same reason, Dennis Kucinich is my hero. While Ned Lamont has a good chance of winning, Dennis Kucinich had a snowball's shot in hell, but he had the balls to get out there and try.

an Epiphany in Big Sky Country

I live in Utah which is known as Big Sky Country. What that basically means is you do not have to look up to see the sky, you can just look ahead of you and you will see blue sky. That's how vast it is here. I have only been here four years and thus have not seen everything yet. Yesterday I drove 3 hours southeast into Utah to a little town Roosevelt (one quick note, it's hard when you move somewhere new because you have NO idea how long it takes to get places...I know exact times from places to places in NY but out here I was like, I have no idea). It was stunningly beautiful. Then I drove back.

On the way back, while listening to Bob Dylan's early music, I began pondering my existence and wondering if what I was doing was the right thing. I have had a kind of bad year and really have only recently felt like I am swimming again rather than treading water trying not to drown. I am thus considering if I am swimming in the right direction, or has the recent bad year enlightened me to new paths I should be considering.

I had been on the Ute Indian Reservation teaching Ute Indian high school teachers about American government. The idea being they will then teach their students. It was very cool being there. And then driving back in the vastness that is that part of Utah, unlike anything I have ever seen and having done something unlike anything I have ever done, I passed a ford with a 'Support our Troops' sticker on it. As I often do, I take a look at who's driving. It's a 40 year old man wearing a Boy Scout uniform. (before you think I'm totally un-American, remember that I was teaching American Government to American Indians in the reddest state of the union...and I support our troops and for the most part I kind of support Boy Scouts). I think to myself, clearly he's not listening to Bob Dylan.

Then epiphany struck. I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing exactly where I am supposed to be doing it and everything's all right. This is a good life that I have forged for myself here in the western wilderness and although a hard rain has fallen I have survived. All is good in the universe and I can drive 90 mpg through the back roads of Utah and smile.

the End of July

I come from upstate New York, which means for those of you who have never been there, that July and August and maybe sometimes September are the worst months of the year. I never acclimated to the humidity, I just complained about it every summer. And I moped. And I whined. And I, one summer, locked myself in my bedroom with a little air conditioner and didn't ever leave. Thus, in my former life, back east as it were, I would be counting the days as I had now made it through a third of the hell on earth that is upstate New York in the dog days of summer.

Here, in lovely Utah, the end of July signals the end of heat. There is never really humidity, I mean there kind of is, but for the most part you can survive. You don't have to mope and whine. And because it's hotter here there is air conditioning everywhere so you really just have to make it from the car to your office. No dripping sweat when you step out of the shower.

It is the end of July. Temps this week are dropping into the low 80s. And I am happy that fall is on its way. Dear eastern family, you should move west!

In addition, one month ago my rearview mirror fell off. You cannot replace the rearview mirror unless it is less than 75 degrees. Thus, for the month of July, I have been killing people as I change langes. Very scary driver I am even with a rearview mirror, without it becomes almost diabolical. This morning it was below 70 when I woke up, in July no less, and now my husband is replacing my rearview mirror. No more excuses for causing the road rage.

a Little Movie Called Word Play

My desktop calendar is the New York Times crossword from 2005. Every day it is the same day as last year's crossword puzzle. Generally the Mondays I can do and by Saturdays I say, screw it. I enjoy crosswords. I enjoy figuring out puzzles. I enjoy the thrill of discovering a word I didn't even know I knew because the letters come together.

Last night some good friends of ours and my husband and I went to see Word Play which was a fantastic movie. It followed the crossword lives of a few people who apparently compete every year in a crossword tournament. Can you imagine? A crossword tournament? In Stamford, Connecticut. They get together at the Marriott and have been doing so since 1978. They do crosswords. The announcer says this is a 15 minute crossword and however many minutes under the time of 15 you get your crossword in you get extra points. You lose points for blank spaces and errors. They were so keyed up. They were into it. It was like watching any exciting sports event. Throughout the theatre you could hear people answering clues because throughout the movie they would intersperse crossword puzzles. My husband said busstop, ah very clever, to the answer to a clue. I laughed and laughed

Who knew there was this society of crossword puzzlers, constructors, editors who all hang out in Connecticut? Who knew that the winner of the 199... tournament also twirled baton...well I do now because apparently not only do they do crosswords, they have a talent show. It is a fun movie, it is a smart movie and I highly recommend it.

The annual tournament is during my spring break in March. What are the odds they have two hour puzzles?

the Duchess has Been Silent

For a week no less. Nothing to say. I wonder if I am wandering around with static in my brain that I have nothing to post. I'll post about last night.

Last night I went to watch my trophy husband play lacrosse (my good friends went with me and we were so loud this dude next to us just kept laughing). He is very good, All-American (2 times, Division 1A), playing on a team with a bunch of guys who are from Utah. Just in case you didn't know, lacrosse is a French word for an Iroquois Native game. The Iroquois are the native people who lived in New York and Canada before we arrived and stole their land (do you have a flag?...oop, Eddie Izzard digression). They used lacrosse to settle differences, so instead of blowing up your neighbors, you'd take a stick and a ball and try to get said ball into a goal (while beating the crap out of each other with a stick). Wouldn't it be nice if Israel and Lebanon and Palestine played lacrosse? So much easier for Condi, I would think. Anyway, lacrosse is huge in the East. Many many people play it. It is slowly making its way West as more Easterners come out here and civilize this place. My trophy husband coaches a high school lacrosse team and they are always amazed at what he can do because they've never really seen it played before.

I attended Syracuse University which has been playing lacrosse forever and pretty much rocks at it. Last night I met a guy on my husband's team who also went to SU and played lacrosse there (well I didn't play lacrosse, the also is to demonstrate that while he went to SU he also played lacrosse). He lived in the apartment next to mine while I was there. We chatted. We talked East stuff. It was great. Most of the time I love living here in Utah, but sometimes I miss being from the East and when I chat with a fellow SU alum, I miss it a little more.

He invited us to a kegger Friday night which we laughed at...why is it funny? Kegs are illegal in Utah. When I was a student at SU, Sabastino's delivered kegs to my house.

on the Veto

Well it's been a while since I've blogged something political and as I read somewhere that a very few blogs actually talk politics, I feel the need to spew, and I will include some expertise.

A bit of a lesson on vetoes. From 1789 - 2000, there has been 2552 vetoes. Some presidents are veto heavy: Eisenhower, Truman, Cleveland. Some presidents are veto light: Washington, Fillmore (mostly presidents in the 19th century during which time Congress had much more control over who got to be president). Generally the reasons for vetoing are as follows: the president thinks the legislation is unconstitutional, the president thinks the legislation is inoperable (meaning he can't implement it), the president thinks the legislation is bad policy.

From 2000 - July 20, 2006 there has been 1.

President Bush decided to veto expanded stem cell research funding for no other reason than he thinks he's a prophet from God and as such has to protect us all from our Christian failings. Oh no, wait, I'm sure he vetoed it because it is unconstitutional (well no, the Supreme Court hasn't ruled on it and we do have stem cell research). No, it must be he vetoed it because it's inoperable (well no, states are implementing funding for stem cell research pretty easily). No, it must be because it is bad policy (well no, a vast majority of Americans want to see it funded and a majority of his party and the other party want to see it funded and generally bad policy doesn't garner near unanimity). So it must be he's a prophet. He surrounded himself with people who have bought children from left over embryos (rather than adopting the many children who need to be rescued from around the country) and all these happy white people smiled as he vetoed the legislation. Where were the people who are dying from diseases that could be cured? Where were the people who weren't able to save their children from diseases that could be cured? No, see they don't have a right to life, just embryos.

The Duchess cringes and says, thank God, only 2 more years!

the Duchess Scores a Smile

When I was very young, maybe 10 years old, I ran into a girl at the softball park who was relatively mean to me in a polite, snide kind of way. I remember that event vividly as I do most of my interactions with this particular girl over my life. My father thought I was competitive with her, but you see, the Duchess may be neurotic, but she is not insane. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result and the thing is, this girl kicked my ass in every one on one we met. So, Daddy, I was not competitive because anyone with any sense of self-preservation would not compete with someone who is clearly better than you at everything. She was Melanie to my Scarlett.

Melanie was on my softball team and played first base. Scarlett played second base. Melanie was better at softball (the Duchess smirks as she remembers deliberately throwing the softball over her head in every warm up practice).

Melanie was on my cheerleading squad and was captain. Scarlett was just random cheerleader #8.

Melanie was on my track team and worked very hard. Scarlett ran track because it was often co-ed and the boys were cute.

Melanie was in every honors class and scored top Regents honors. Scarlett was in the honors classes but really wasn't interested in studying.

Melanie went to Syracuse University and was summa cum laude. Scarlett was cum laude because she still wasn't interested in studying (the Duchess shakes her head at her pride at winning a better scholarship than Melanie).

In addition to all this amazingness of Melanie, she is also perfect. She never says the wrong thing. She never makes anyone feel badly. She never drank, she never hooked up with boys, she was perfect. If they could give an award for perfection, she would have won it in addition to all the other awards she has won in her life. Scarlett laughs too loud, says things to people that really should never be said, kisses all sorts of boys, including boyfriends' best friends because she can. Scarlett is completely unperfect.

After Syracuse University, or some time during Syracuse University, I lost track of Melanie. I went to college to drink and hang out and have fun so I didn't really run into people at the library. I'm not even sure I know where the library is. Luckily I'm relatively smart and came out with a good gpa.

When I was home last week, I ran into Melanie's father who was bartending at my father's wedding. I said, "hey how's it going." He said, "fine." I said, "how's Melanie" (of course this isn't her name, but for privacy's sake...) and he said, "fine." I said, "what's she doing?" He said, "crunching numbers for GM." I said, "ah." I said, "didn't she get her Ph.D. at MIT?" He said, "no, she didn't finish the Ph.D. and she actually went to Minnesota." I said "oh." I said, "is she married?" He said, "no, she's never really dated anyone." I said, "oh, well tell her I said hey."

The adult in me feels nothing but mild interest at what has happened to Melanie. But the 10 year old girl who was treated meanly at the ballpark gives herself a high five. The Duchess walks away from the bar, thinking of the Ph.D. hanging on her wall and her trophy husband who loves her like crazy, grinning.

on my Uncle Jim

My father's older sister married a guy who has been my Uncle Jim my whole life. Uncle Jim is fantastically fun to be around. Everything he does is larger than life. Every event is a story.

Let me share a funny story.

My aunt and I decide to throw an after-wedding brunch for my father and my new stepmother. Brilliant idea except it makes everyone nervous because no woman really wants a huge party (and we have 50 people attending) in her house when she's not around (she's staying in a hotel after her wedding) so I am on edge. I feel like the 16 year old kid who is having a party in my parents' house while they are away on a weekender. Of course I never did that because I am a loser who never does anything really wrong with other people's stuff, but I felt the way I imagine a 16 year old kid would feel. Anyway, I am very nervous. I want everything to be perfect. My aunt wants everything to be perfect.

In an effort to help out my uncle:

BREAKS THE MIRROR IN THE NEWLY REMODELED BATHROOM
PUTS A MAJOR HOLE IN THE NEWLY REMODELED BATHROOM SINK
BREAKS MY PARENTS' ALARM CLOCK
KNOCKS A PICTURE OFF THE WALL

My husband suggests that perhaps Uncle Jim should spend the duration of his visit in the garage with plasticware. My cousin, my Uncle's son, said, it's always good to have someone around to clear the tension. What possibly could I do to the house that would be at all noteworthy or even noticeable after all that?

I laughed so hard that I chuckle now as I write it. I told my uncle it was hilarious, he said, it's not hilarious when you're the one who did it, which, I imagine, is true but makes it all even funnier. I see myself walking down the driveway with my uncle, like two teenagers to report on the weekend, to tell the parents what has happened.

My dad laughed almost as hard as I did.

on my Neuroses

I have been home for a wedding event and I have so much to blog from said event, that I have decided to talk about something else entirely. I will have funny stories soon.

But today's blog will be about how funny I am. Not funny as in I make people roar at the witty things I say, but funny in that I am neurotic in strange ways. I back seat drive, very politely, but I am trying to help you not kill me while I am in your car...at the same time I drive like a lunatic. The cleaning in my house can only be done one way and my husband and I fight when he does not comply...at the same time I bitch when he doesn't help me. I try to take care of everyone around me who I care about...at the same time I am annoyed when people try to help me.

These are all things I am working on with my therapist. All things that make me funny, luckily as an adult I can laugh at myself when I do this. Case in point, last night while driving with friends I advised the driver what a lane-ending sign meant. Because, clearly he didn't know after having driven since he was 14. But you see, that's funny and I laugh at myself for being neurotic. Very helpful to laugh and encourage other people to laugh as well, helps clear out the neurotic effect.

Anyway, the big thing I am neurotic about is organization. I am super organized, almost with facist intensity. No one I know is as intense with the types of organization that I am. I have a million calendars because I am in the constant quest for the best form of organization. Right now Google calendar seems to be working well. I have a million bags to carry my million calendars because I am constantly searching for the best bag. I have not found it, but now I am working on the best way to store my million bags. Everything in my life goes in a particular box or folder and as a result I have many versions of boxes and folders, and many times I reorganize the boxes and folders because they could always be organized better. I am currently in a search for the best way to store the old boxes and folders because I know they will come in vogue with me again.

I arrive home and I have a ton of work to do. But I can't do the work until I have properly charted my productivity. You see, I even organize myself. I call in a friend to say, look at my excel chart that will plot how much work I have done. I have spent one hour on this today. I am very proud. He directs me to the following podcast.

http://www.43folders.com/2006/07/06/just-a-cup/#more-591

Good thing I don't drink coffee or I would be in a never-ending quest for the perfect coffee cup and then the perfect way to store the coffee cup. (in case the sarcasm doesn't register, of course I get the point of the podcast, but see how funny I am that I am thinking there probably is a better coffee cup)

on Company Behavior

I just returned from almost a week with my husband's family. They are lovely people. Different from me in many ways but lovely people. I have so much fun just watching them be who they are and it's interesting to watch my husband interact with them. Of course I think of them all he is the best product in their family, but I imagine my sister-in-law thinks the same of his brother, her husband. And I imagine that's natural. But I digress.

When I spend time with my husband's family I am on company behavior. I am committed to the view that all people should be on company behavior when with other people's families and generally with other people.

What is company behavior? Clear your own dishes. Offer to clear all the dishes of people around you. Strip your bed at the end of the visit. Offer to strip everyone else's bed. Make sure when work is being done that you are nearby to help. Laugh at everyone's jokes even when they are not funny. Don't stray too much into God, guns, gays (and in Ogden, gondolas) in conversation and try not to tell people off when they are racist, homophobic, sexist or any of another number of ists. You're on company behavior, after all, and not on a proselytizing crusade.

I saw an example of what not to be on company behavior...or a clear example of someone who does not know that the stick shoved up her ass does stink. You do not, on company behavior, send back your meal that your friend's father paid for. You do not, on company behavior, tell everyone about the Yale degree you are two years from finishing. You do not, on company behavior, wander around in a itsy bitsy bikini when everyone else is wearing sweatshirts because it is freezing.

I watched this young lady and thought "where in tarnation is my can of whoop ass?" But you see, company behavior also entails not kicking the ass of your husband's cousin's friend's girlfriend, so I just smiled and pretended she mattered.

I love Flowers

I am a Snapdragon What Flower Are You?

are you Surprised?

You Have A Type A Personality

You are hyper, energetic, and always on the mood You tend to succeed at everything you attempt And if you don't succeed at first, you quickly climb your way to the top! You could be called a workaholic, but you also make time for fun As long as it's high energy and competitive, you're interested You have the perfect personality for business and atheltic success

Do You Have a Type A Personality?

it is So Humid, it is Flooding

I love living in Utah. There are many reasons I love living in Utah: it's beautiful (mountains are stunning...nothing else to say, stunning), it's far away from home (love my family but I love the fact that I am an adult and no one remembers I used to hate losing), it's mostly Republican making my Democratism fun (questioning all the time if your politics are correct because everyone assumes you are wrong is challenging), it's mostly Mormon making my Catholicism a minority (things people say to me about being Catholic while in New York would be non-pc in Utah).

But I am thinking that maybe the number one reason I love living in Utah is it is NOT HUMID. For the love of Christ, humidity makes me cranky and it makes my hair frizzy and it makes me ache for central air and ... the list goes on and on.

It is so humid in New York this week that the rivers have flooded the highway. I mean...how humid does it have to get???? Clearly this is too much humid!!!

do Not Interrupt Someone Else's Conversation With Your Bullshit

Last night a group of friends and I went to a small town, rookie league baseball game. It was fantastic. There was singing and beer drinking and chatting with people around us. There was an old man who yelled at us along the third base line every time a left handed batter got up because we could be killed by a foul ball. He was vindicated when an old woman got beaned by the ball and had to be walked out by security. There was Oggie the Raptor who danced and raced little children.

This was so much fun.

And it was so much fun, except for the men sitting in front of us. Here's the story. At one point our new friends went to buy beer and all of my group of friends except for a girlfriend and myself went to smoke. So there we were, my girlfriend and I, chatting about our new friends. Oh by the way, they were gay and one of them was in the military. I say how cool he's in the military. This big, beefy guy turns around and says "Let's hope not." My girlfriend gives him what for, as he deserved, and I wus out, as I generally do. I say, we are not having this conversation and looked sternly at the large man. He then turned around and he and his two beefy friends didn't smile or have fun the rest of the night.

So, what is my point? Why do you (nasty beefy man) wait until two women are sitting alone before you turn around and say something nasty? Were you afraid of all the men who were around us for the other parts of the game?...very brave. Why do you feel the need to eavesdrop and then turn around and say something nasty? We were not talking to you, we were not talking loudly, we were not obnoxious, we were sitting two bleachers behind you having a quiet private conversation.

Rule: if you are a jerk (insert all sorts of swear words here) who is pissed because your penis is small, do not go to baseball games. Clearly you cannot handle people having fun around you, so don't oppress the rest of us with your inadequacies.

today I became Youth Minister at my Church

In the grand scheme of my life I think I am always trying to make the world a better place. Smile at people, generally. Try to examine the way politics works to help people live better. Adopt puppies when they need a loving home. Feed my cats so well they are chunk a doodles.

So now I am a youth minister for my church. This is fabulous except we didn't have a youth ministry at my church growing up so I really have no idea what a youth minister does. I have googled for ideas but not much has come up. I guess there's not many people out there writing up little ideas about how to herd cats...oh, I mean, minister Catholic youth.

I am sure I will think of something brilliant. Smile. Any ideas? Any thoughts as to how to achieve said brilliance?

today is my Daddy's Birthday

One of the problems with living in Utah is you miss birthdays. Today is my father's birthday, as well as Father's Day. I guess when my grandmother had a son it probably didn't occur to her that if he ever had children he would always have to share his birthday weekend with Father's Day. Kind of a bummer.

Anyway. I just called and they are headed to the lake and my stepmother's family all came over last night for his birthday. This means that my father had a birthday party without me there and will have a Father's Day/birthday event today without me there. It doesn't really matter that I'm not there because in the grand scheme of things, the only person who matters on a birthday is the person to whom the birthday belongs. But it's the weirdest sensation not being there.

When you live far away you really don't exist. It's kind of interesting to be the person who everyone remembers is related but not around. In fact, it's unclear when you live far away that you are even remembered. In my life I will pay for this. When you are the child who lives far away you don't do any of the obligatory things like help out with moves and new furniture and attending baby showers and birthday parties and fourth of July picnics. Eventually, because you haven't done the obligatory things, you start to be resented as the child who never does anything while the children who live nearby are the heroes. Even though technically I am an only child, I have stepsiblings on one side and I have many homebound cousins on the other so I will and do get compared. And then, finally, in your adult life, you are the one who gets discussed as never being around and thus having let everyone down.

We have already been getting the language of having let people down. When we lost the baby a number of people said to us, if you had been home or it's so hard with you in Utah. (kind of ironic, as the loss of a baby is a tragedy for the people who lose the baby and really not so much for the people who live somewhere else but the entitlement to cry extends to all those people and you end up having to take care of them...for another post when I am feeling more up to it) We have been advised to find work in New York so we can move home. Never mind that we love it here. Never mind that we feel very happy here. Never mind that the only person I really need around all the time is my husband and vice versa for him so we could really live in Timbuktu and it would be fine with us. This is why so many people can attend high school reunions. They all live home to avoid being the child who lets everyone down and so they're nearby when the high school has a reunion. But I digress.

Is it selfish to live far away? Is it selfish to make a choice for one's own reasons, whatever they are, to live more than drive's distance from familiy?

the First Amendment Does Not Apply to Us

Garcetti v Carballos
May 30, 2006.

In a 5-to-4 decision, the court held that public employees' free-speech rights are protected when they speak out as citizens on matters of public concern, but not when they speak out in the course of their official duties.

This is a major concern because it may apply to professors at public universities. Those of us who have chosen to teach at public universities because we feel strongly about doing public service in our career may be at risk. I do not think it is a public service to not speak because some organization, Students for Academic Freedom says you aren't teaching them what they want to hear or basically that you are not indoctrinating them in the conservative right message. I do not think it is a public service to not speak because David Horowitz thinks professors who are liberal are dangerous.

My dissertation adviser is a Republican. He worked with Dick Cheney while in Washington, D.C. Another member of my committee is a Democrat. He was educated at Berkeley. Both were very clear about their politics in private and both were excellent professors. Neither indoctrinated me and made me political based on their views. I went to a public university for my graduate degree and never felt stifled to offer my opinion as they did not feel stifled to offer their opinion.

I wonder what Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson would think about this ruling that basically says they could not speak freely while serving in the first Cabinet of the United States. No, I need not wonder, I know exactly what they would think.