another reason not to drive

For a few weeks now, I've noticed the tree squirrels in our neighborhood a bit more. And I've decided that this is because, as the air cools and winter begins, they are moving much slower. No longer do they leap between the oak trees in the canopy adjacent to the deck; we spot them, rather, loping along on the ground and lounging on the oak's branches.

Last week, I was walking up the narrow steep road to our house after a sunrise jog and I came across a squirrel who was so perfectly fuzzy and unmoving that he appeared at first to be sleeping in the road. As I approached I noticed a slight trickle of bright red blood on his mouth. I couldn't believe that this tiny creature could meet his fate without more fanfare than a trickle of blood. Naturally I felt responsible somehow for his untimely death, just by being part of the human race. And even though I was not driving the car that hit him, I began to think of all the close calls I'd had with squirrels in the past month as they slow into hibernation. I know that part of life is death, but I still think that both need to be given the utmost respect. So I quietly took a forked branch in my shaky hand, carefully rolled the still squirrel off of the road, and wrapped his fluffy tail up around his belly.

Facebook is sucking my soul

Yup. The title pretty much says it all. I finally broke down yesterday and joined Facebook for some silly reason, and now I've forgotten the reason ... every time I open my email I have about 15 emails from people who've either "confirmed that they are my friend" or "requested that I confirm that we are friends." It is SO bizarre. But kinda cool at the same time. I'm learning all kinds of things about people I used to know ... and I guess I am still "friends" with them? But really, if we saw each other, would we instantly have a bond about anything other than Facebook? In any case, it's good preparation for my 10-year reunion (AH! Next year!). I think that I am exactly the same in so many ways as I was 10 years ago, but everyone else seems to look like different, more adult versions of themselves. The only thing that's different about my appearance are the baby wrinkles forming around my eyes :(

hello goodbye

This week I started a new teaching job at an after school program. Usually when I'm the new adult, I am nearly suffocated by children wanting to be my best friend. But this time, it's different. Granted it's only been three days, but most of the kids hardly look at me. They're nice kids, but it's almost as if they don't know what to make of me -- like they're sizing me up. And a lot of them are just 5 years old ... I just couldn't figure it out.

Then today it all made sense. A few Kindergartners were drawing with colored pencils at a table, and I didn't recognize them so I walked up and knelt down to introduce myself. I told them my name, and said that I'd be there every day. "Every day?" a mousy brown-haired girl asked. Then she challenged, "You're not going to be here every day. Some day you'll leave." This took me aback. So this is why they have been so guarded. "Yeah," the boy with white-blond hair next to her chimed in,"and some days you'll be sick, and other days you won't come because you're on vacation." Damn! These kids had been through this before. "You're right," I said. "One day I will leave. But I hope I can be here for a long time." They didn't seem phased, and ducked their heads to continue coloring.

craft-challenged mother dotes on bunny children

Well, no one can say I didn't try. We have a small apple tree in front of our new house, and ever since we moved in last September I've had the brilliant idea to fashion a ball out of its branches for the bunnies to munch on and roll around. It seemed like a simple task, but it took me months to actually walk down the stairs, perch myself on the slope, and trim a handful of young branches from the tree. I was so proud of myself, but that pride quickly turned to embarrassment when I realized that I have absolutely no idea how to transform a pile of apple branches into a ball. I struggled for what seemed like hours, and came up with this jumble. I placed a bell in the middle in a feeble attempt to make it look classy ...

I then presented my creation to the bunnies, who, let me say, are some harsh critics. They took one look and proceeded to destroy what I had worked so hard to create. Did they roll the "ball" around? No. Did they toss it back and forth to each other with glee? No. They just pulled the branches apart, ate a few, and then sat there grooming each other before the fireplace.

Was it worth all of this work and mental anguish only to see my art disassembled like so many apple branches? Of course it was. After all, that is the essence of bunny motherhood.

what makes this guy so special?

I've always considered myself pretty well-read -- a requirement for anyone who wants to write for a living -- but I have yet to conquer the great Russian literature of the 19th Century ... or of any century, for that matter. So last week I was feeling ambitious, and picked up Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky at the library. Well, let me tell you people, it is nothing like I thought great Russian lit would be. Granted I'm only in about 100 pages, but it's boring! And the language is awkward! I've decided that the biggest stumbling block for me is that I don't read Russian, because something seems to be lost in the translation. The people in the story are supposed to be incredibly poor, yet they speak like aristocrats. That's what bothers me the most. But perhaps in the Russian text, the language style fits the culture better ... or maybe I'm just being ignorant ... it's possible. So far, though, it ain't no Dickens.

do they really think we care?

Okay -- it's time for a long-repressed rant. Why, pray tell, do the automobile manufacturers in Detroit deserve taxpayer money? Tell me, please. Just one good reason!

It never ceases to amaze me how some people are all for capitalism when it works for them, and totally against it when the product they're selling ... say, gas guzzling, ugly death-machines, for example ... fail to succeed in a capitalist market! They were bailed out before, and may need it again in the future. Bottom line: in spite of what we are led to believe, it might NOT be a bad thing for our auto manufacturers to fail. In fact, they've already failed, and are asking to be a subsidized industry, much like corn.

And don't even get me started on that $1 a year business. Do they really think we believe that that is the amount they will be writing in on their tax forms? Many CEOs outside of that industry already work for $0 salary, and, thanks to stock holdings and other investments, they are still bizillionaires, or at least mizillionaires.

The only people who are losing in this whole mess are, as usual, the workers. But I'm sorry to say that even with the auto manufacturers in their towns, they haven't been getting such a sweet deal. So perhaps it's time to bite the bullet and work on creating some sustainable jobs in a variety of industries in these towns so that thousands of people won't have to go without bread every time the auto manufacturers loose touch with market demand.

I know I sound Marxist, but ... come on, people! Evolve already!

dream a little dream of ...

my house on fire? Most of my dreams consist of flying or swimming with whales, but a few nights ago I had my first memorable dream of fire. It was a huge, hot, fire that engulfed our house and all of our possessions ... and Mark and I set it on purpose. We grabbed the most important things: our camera, our photo albums, and the bunnies, and the rest was completely destroyed. And we felt strangely liberated. I was confused when I woke up -- aren't fires supposed to be bad?

If dreams really are symbolic, then fire dreams signal "transformation, new beginnings arising from the ashes." Maybe not so bad after all.

out of the abyss

I return once more! Wow. Almost two years since my last post. I suppose it is appropriate that I return now -- now that I am seriously investing myself in writing. So much has happened since my last post; I graduated with my masters, got married, got a new job, quit said job, moved to Marin, got another new job, quit said job ... and in two weeks I will once more reinvent myself, this time as a teacher at a child care center. That's right -- I've all but given up on that sinking ship that is journalism (for now). No more secretary spread and dry computer eyes for me! I'm going to be once again cycling to work and running my fanny off with the youngsters of the fine city of San Rafael. Should be fun ... that's the goal anyway! Fun? At work? That's right, people. I believe it is actually possible!

So the plan is that since this new job's hours are 11:30-6:30, I can spend my mornings writing, hiking, and maybe making some extra money to subsidize my *extravagant* Marin lifestyle ... or not. Hey, as long as I can pay the rent, I'm cool :)