At a Loss

Every time I see the pictures, I wish I could be a better person.  I wish I could break through the wall and make the right connection and be someone who was welcome and not so threatening.  Everything I try fails.  I try to think positively and hope and try again, but nothing works.  I have the odd compulsion to hide.  That's so strange.  Why hide?  No one would look for me.  That's really kind of funny.  I would be tucked away in my seclusion and everyone else's life would go on as normal, because you don't miss someone who's invisible to you anyway.

And It's Getting Better

Nothing like a gourmet pizza to make the day seem brighter.  I went out and got the ingredients for my daughter-in-law's recipe for chicken pesto pizza.  We enjoyed the pizza while watching the State game.  I wish the outcome for that had been better, but sitting down to watch the game with Mike is just a life-is-good kind of time.

The only thing that could make it better would be--a snow day tomorrow!  And, of course, there's Mike's observation that 87.5% of people think I'm okay!  Hey!  There's a pleasant thought! I can feel my self-esteem issues clearing up already.

Okay--I really have to grade those papers.  (Go, snow!  Go, snow!)

Morning Dawns

Life after sleep is much better.  I went to bed and finally slept, but woke up early this morning and finished viewing all of the King Kong documentary footage.  I won't have the class time to show all of it--and shouldn't, anyway--but I can find selected spots and show them to my students and fill in the gaps a little bit.  Amazing how almost all of the old special effects methods are used on that film along with the latest technology.  I love seeing the creative people who devoted years of their lives to that project talking about what it involved and what it meant to them.  If I hadn't been such a chicken when I was younger, I might have found myself involved in some way with film or theater, most likely backstage or behind the camera.  I enjoyed my contact with theater in school, but I could never see myself making a living at it, so teaching was the safe thing to do.

Ah, well.  I made the choices that I made, and life down my road is mostly pretty good.  And this morning the sun is shining on clean snow in my yard.  Life feels better in the daylight.

White snow shines lovely, soft as felt.  But I've a date with the treadmill belt.  And miles to go before I'm svelte.  And miles to go before I'm svelte.

Insomnia

I've tried reading until I'm tired, but I finished the book and still can't sleep.  The Pilot's Wife is one of Oprah's books.  A compelling read.  I wouldn't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it yet, so I'll not give away the ending.  Anyway, I finished that book and actually felt tired.  I was pretty sick at school today with a headache, and it just wore me out.  I felt so miserable that I considered finding someone to cover my last couple of classes, but I needed to explain how to write one of the paragraphs of an essay I'd assigned, so I stayed.  But the day just wore me out, so you'd think that now I could sleep.  However, my sleep patterns defy logic.  I think I'll have some wine and blog my worries away.

As I read other blogs, I feel hopelessly inadequate trying to put together one of my own.  My thoughts seem too dull most of the time.  I once considered myself a witty person.  I could make people laugh.  Now I seem to just listen to the conversations around me and hope that the others at the lunch table don't mind if I chime in a thought from time to time.

Are you depressed yet?  Keep reading, you'll get there.  I should rename this blog the Debbie Downer Road.  Writing is supposed to be therapeutic.  Perhaps my subsequent blogs will have a lighter tone, but the musings of an insomniac are not likely to be very bubbly. 

I did enjoy my ride this evening, taking our youngest son back to school.  As Mike and I drove back home, I watched the sliver of a moon follow our car.  I thought of the little song my mom used to sing:  "I see the moon and the moon sees me; the moon sees somebody I would like to see; God bless the moon and God bless me; and God bless the somebody I would like to see."  I used to sing that to myself when I was homesick, thinking about my loved ones looking up at the same moon from many miles away.  There was something comforting about that thought.  Missing my mom isn't as overwhelming as it used to be.  I can think of her now and remember things, and her absence is just a reality that is there.

Good things from the week--getting some kudos from parents at conferences.  And finding a great place to listen to jazz on Thursday nights.  I may become a regular at that place.  The problem is trying to stay awake past 9:00.  Ironic that I get sleepy on a school night, but can't sleep now.  Okay--stop and get the wine.

There wasn't much left in the bottle of Las Perdices syrah.  I love just the smell of it--and to think I never used to enjoy any red wines.  This stuff is great.  That's another good thing from the week--the wine tasting Monday night.  I learned a new trick in savoring wines.  You take just a sip and hold it in the front of your mouth, and then inhale.  Kind of hard to do without drooling, but it really makes the flavor pop.  It also may keep me from sucking down the entire glassful at blazing speed. 

I collected a few paragraphs that I brought home with me to get a head start on grading.  Most students won't have theirs ready until Monday, and a fairly large contingent won't have their paragraphs done even then, but I hope I can make myself get through these first few so I have a bit of a headstart.  I plan to collect one body paragraph, the intro, and maybe the conclusion so that students have some guidance on each bit.  The joy of teaching literature that I love is dimmed immensely by the torture of reading bad writing.  I would like to find and strangle the person who taught these students the old saw of  "tell them what you're going to tell them, then tell them, then tell them what you told them."  Nothing like bad writing which is also redundant.  It actually could be a cure for my insomnia.

Still not sleepy.  I'll bet you wish I would drop off to sleep before I write another line.  Sorry, the therapy continues.  I'm sitting in a dark room, sipping wine at each pause, hearing only the hum of the furnace and the drip of a faucet in the kitchen.  The moon must be hiding on the other side of the house.  There's no light on the snowy yard.  Even the neighbor's mercury light across the road seems dimmer than usual.  Fortunately for you, dear reader, I have run out of thoughts, as I usually do in rather short order.  I may finish watching the Peter Jackson documentary on the making of King Kong--deciding how much of it to show my film study class.  A few more clips on special effects and a bit more time for their projects, and the marking period will be done.  A new batch of students awaits.  Their joy cannot be contained.  As yours cannot at my ending this blog.  Good night/morning.

Lazy Day

Thanks for coming down my road for a visit.  I'm having a day off, and finally putting something on this blog.  I signed up for this ages ago, and yet have not posted a thing until now.  This is the story of my life--yearn for time to write, and yet find myself unable to put a word on the page when I have the opportunity.  I think this will be a blog that benefits the writer and probably will find no readers.  That will be a step taken, at least.  If writing is therapy, I think it's time I tried it.

It's a quiet day on my road.  The snow is still white and even all around.  Three deer picked their way through the woods behind the house a little bit ago.  The injured doe, the one that limps around the yard sometimes, was not among them.  I wonder what's happened to her?

I'm feeling fairly roundly rejected today.  I've tried to reach out to someone again, and I'm waiting for a response.  I don't really expect one.  Reaching out hasn't been very successful in the past.  I suppose I should give up, but I keep sending lame messages trying to break through.  It's probably just upsetting things more.  I'm upset, anyway.  I feel like an idiot.

I'll just have to forget about it.  I just won't expect anything to happen, and if it does, I'll be pleasantly surprised.   I have friends to enjoy for comfort.  We're going to a wine tasting tonight.  Good company for a good evening.  And here ends my first blog.  Thanks for reading.