Blogging About Life: Hard or Necessary?

One of my students, a gifted young lady with great writing talent and a true passion for picking up on the philosophy in the everyday mundaneness of life, wants to start a blog about the minutiae of what she sees around her every day.

Does anybody have any suggestions for her?  I'm sending her the link to this post, so she will definitely be reading your comments.

Thank you in advance <3 nbsp="nbsp">

Sunday Stealing: Have Yous and What Ifs

Rarara, Sunday stealing :-)

1.       Have you anything to confess today?

Actually, yes.  I had foot surgery on Wednesday.  The doctor suggested I take two full weeks off from work, and I was like, “Naaaaaaaah.”  This was especially true because I scheduled the surgery so much of that time was incorporated into Thanksgiving break. 

In other words, I’m going back to work tomorrow and Tuesday, then I am off Wednesday until Sunday.

I have to confess, I wish I’d listened to the doctor.  I am still extremely uncomfortable if I’m not sitting down elevating with a bag of frozen peas on my foot.  Realistically speaking, I am not going to be able to sit, elevate, and ice at work.  This could cause backward progress (which I’d be pretty upset about since I’ve actually been good about sitting and elevating and icing, which is so not my style).

I’m sure I’ll be glad once I get to work (after my clearance appointment tomorrow morning), but I  must confess that I regret my stubborn nature and arrogant tendencies that led me to be confident in returning to work despite the doctor’s recommendation.

It’s going to be a tough couple of days …

2.       Have you ever broken a law? If so, what was it?

I’ve no doubt broken the law before.  It wasn’t anything egregious enough that I was a) caught or b) feel guilty enough to confess it now.  Standard college student stuff.  Maybe taking a road sign or two.  Nothing that sounds remotely significant to who I am today.

3.       Have you ever committed an act of betrayal against a friend or family member? Explain.

Yes, who hasn’t? 

This meme is making me feel really guilty and remorseful of who I used to be.  I’m not that person anymore.  Betrayal—or at least intentional, knowing betrayal, even in the name of “I’m right and s/he is wrong” is a thing of the past for me.

4.       Has someone else done something that, to this day, makes you cringe when you think about them committing the act?

Yes.  I would say that lying to the medical staff at a hospital that just took your blood by swearing on your child’s life that you haven’t had anything to drink and then having your blood alcohol level come up at .39 is pretty pathetic.  The fact that this happened more than once (more than twice, in fact) does indeed make me cringe.  It makes me cry.  It makes me vomit. 

It makes me feel so sorry for you … the truth will set you free, but you will never truly understand that.

5. Have you ever found yourself sexually aroused by someone that you absolutely should not have been?

I think anyone that answers “no” to this question is lying.  Sexual arousal is a visceral thing that you really have no control over.  That being said, I’m not going to start listing midgets and magicians and stuff …

6. Have you ever cheated at school? How so?

I had a friend that went on to major in Latin in college.  I’m sure I utilized her (and her homework) more than was healthy according to the academic honesty charter. 

Otherwise, though, no … I find cheating abhorrent.  The fact that kids today are able to do it frequently and pretty much without consequence has really gotten me rethinking my career, in fact. 

I have serious procrastination issues, so I had to get to the point where I was willing and able to work all night to get work I’d put off done, but I figured it out eventually.  Failing Algebra I and having to go to summer school was also something of a wake-up call.

7. What if you came across a backpack stuffed with one hundred thousand dollars. Would you keep it?

I’m one of those schmucks that would bring it to the police station.  Yes, I’m serious.  No, I wouldn’t take any.  I would hope that the owner was located and would want to give me a reward, but my luck as such that this would probably not happen.

It would make a hell of a story, though ;-)

8. What if you were the most powerful person in the world. How would you use that power?

I would rid the world of assholes.  It would take care of the population problem and make the world a better place.

9. What if you found a magic lamp?

I would be unable to resist the urge to rub it.  I mean, there has to be something to the myth, right?

10. What if you could change one thing about the world. What would that one thing be?

I would make it impossible for assholes to be successful.  Have you ever noticed that, by and large, people in positions of power are complete bullies?  It’s criminal …  My mother always says, “The pendulum swings” and that, in this day and age, nobody with a heart and strong morals would be willing to take on the responsibility of power when everything is so powered by political correctness.  Changing the rules for people based on who they are, however, is wrong.  Period.  This is especially true when you would totally nail someone else to the wall for the same thing.  Hypocrisy, lies, incompetence … the world is permeated with them, and it needs to change.    

I've adopted a "pay it forward" approach.  I'm not sure if I'll reap the benefits personally, but I've certainly benefited from the act of giving :-)

11. What if you could take one thing back. What would that one thing be?

As hard as this is to say, I would take nothing back.  Everything that happens to you—the good, the bad, and the ugly—give you character and shape who you are.  Giving that up would change the essence of who you are…

12. What if you were stuck on an island forever but had all the water, food and shelter you needed. What would you do?

I’d think a lot.  And figure out how to make paper and a writing implement. 

13. What if the internet didn't exist?

I go through phases where I can’t get enough of the internet, and other times when I don’t even use it at all.  A couple of months ago, I would have died without the internet.  This week, I’m seriously contemplating giving my iPhone to my mother and picking up one of the old flip phones circa early 2000s.

14. What if you never started blogging?

I’d have a lot fewer friends on Facebook ;-p

Nah, seriously, I would have missed out on knowing some incredible people.  I would also not be as strong a writer as I am … the practice and the authentic audience and being able to interact with people on their own blogs is just an incredible experience.

I love you all <3 o:p="o:p">

15. What are your November 22 Thanksgiving plans?

I am still going to be recuperating from my foot surgery, so I’ll be sitting on my derriere, elevating, and icing.  I’ve been charged with peeling potatoes. 

We are having approximately twenty people over.  Eating a turkey raised by one of my students.  Having steak on the grill for those of us that don’t like turkey.  Lots of people.  Lots of pie.

We’re playing Apples to Apples.  It should be a blast J

Strange Things Afoot: Freiberg's Infraction

I'm having foot surgery on Wednesday, which has been the cause of a great deal of recent angst.  And pain.  And such.

A lot of people have asked, "What's wrong? What kind of foot surgery? Did you injure it?" and so on, so I figured I'd write an explanation.

My right foot has bothered me off and on since I was in high school.  It had just been a minor annoyance with an occasional flare-up of short-lived agony until fairly recently, so it was just easier to ignore it.  It's gotten progressively worse, though, to the point where I finally went to a podiatrist.

It should be noted at this time that I hate feet.  I. HATE. FEET.

So the first time I went to the podiatrist, I received a phone call from Belle's school saying that the kids were being dismissed immediately because of a sewage issue.  When the doctor walked in for the first time, I said, "I have to go ... sewage emergency."  (I have a bad habit of saying stupid things before thinking of how they'll sound).  The doctor was very nice about it (I did elaborate, by the way, on what I meant), and I got the appointment rescheduled.

Anyway, they did x-rays and stuff at the rescheduled appointment, and I have something called Freiberg's Infraction.

Which, by the way, doesn't show up anywhere--not WebMd, not anywhere!  I didn't pay attention when the doctor was explaining the condition because I figured I'd just Google it, but it was crazy.  The only stuff I could find was written by doctors, and I don't speak science.  My mother, who usually translates medical jargon for me, was in Ireland when I received this news, so I rather hysterically started stalking my sister (she's a microbiologist, which is obviously different from a medical doctor, but she does speak "doctor").  Mary, as always, came through for me, learning more about Freiberg's Infraction than most doctors, I think, and even making a model of where my surgery scar will be and such.

So, basically, I injured my foot when I was a teenager (before the growth plate closed).  The second metatarsal, to be exact.  Over time, the cartilage between my second toe and the metatarsal bone disappeared, then the bone itself started breaking down (the official word is "necrosed", which of course means "dead" ... have I mentioned that I hate feet?).

It's gotten to the point where it is very painful, and the toe will "pop out" (I don't know how to put it better than that) once in awhile, which freaking kills.

So, yeah, surgery on Wednesday to reshape the bone and such.  Gross.  I hate feet ;-p

The pain is such, however, that I can't decide if I'm dreading this surgery or looking forward to it (because I want it to stop hurting).

Yeah, the recovery doesn't sound like much fun either.

For three days, I have to sit on my ass with my foot elevated above my heart.  Ice on for an hour, off for an hour.  Painkillers.  Not able to do anything.

The sitting on my ass/elevating foot is a constant for two weeks.  I can't drive.  I have to wear a sexy surgical shoe.

I don't do well with sitting on my ass.  I am feeling claustrophobic at the very thought of not being able to drive.  I'm glad that I got a few gift certificates to Barnes and Noble for my birthday last month as I'm going to to be racking up the Nook purchases.  There's always TV, I suppose.  A lot of family coming for Thanksgiving.  Missing work (ugh!) and not being able to do jack for a couple of weeks.

I'm just trying to focus on how nice it will be when this is over and my foot doesn't hurt on a regular basis.  It's just going to be a pain--both literal and figurative--getting there.

Sunday Stealing: Who Are You? (Part 7)

Late to the party (as usual), but here's my contribution to Sunday Stealing this week.  If you don't do Sunday Stealing, you should.  It's very fun :-)

Who Are you? Part 7 – It is Over!

Part 7: Self Image

84. Describe the routine of a normal day for you:
What is normal?

During the week, I get up at 5:30ish, watch the news, snuggle with Belle while drinking coffee, then go to work.

That's a weekday constant in the morning ... otherwise, my life is chaos.

85. What is your greatest strength as a person?
Not feeling like many exist at the moment ... not exactly loving life these days.

86. What is your greatest weakness?
There is not enough room to list the myriad of flaws I possess

87. Are you going to run for President in 2016?
Nah ... politics are so disingenuous.  I have many, many faults, but I hate doublespeak, lying, distortion, and being forced to see how ignorant many of my fellow Americans are ... and how certain politicians play them like a freaking musical instrument.

As an example, a couple of my FB friends posted a pic lambasting Obama for killing an American citizen.  While technically true, this happened in Yemen, and the guy was a terrorist.  They left that part out ... actually, they clearly didn't know it.  It makes me sad.  It makes me disillusioned.  And it's on both sides of the proverbial aisle, although that's the one that's coming to my mind right now.

However, Belle has decided that she's going to run for president.  She's planning out her platform already.  It's really quite entertaining ...

88. Are you generally self-contained?
No idea, so probably not.

89. Are you generally organized or messy?
I'm messy.  Hygienic, but messy.

90. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at:
Good at--reading ... and that's about all I've got right now.
Bad at--everything else.  I'm going through a negative period ... sorry, I know that's no fun for anybody.

91. Do you like your neighbors? Do they like you?
No idea, and I don't care.

92. Are you different in public then you act among friends?'
Depends on the day.

93. What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?
Eh, whatever.

94. Where do you see yourself in 4 years?
Let me get through this week, then I'll get back to you on that.

95. If you could choose, how would you want to leave this world?
Quickly.

96. If you had only one week to live, what three things would be bumped up on the bucket list?
I threw my bucket list out the window because I just don't care anymore.

97. What is one thing about you that really stands out?
No idea.

98. What three words best describe your personality?
Depends. On. Day.

99. What three words would others probably use to describe you? 
No idea.

100. What advice do you have to give?
Be kind to others.  Be aware of the world around you and what goes on in it.  Don't take the word of other people; live and see (and research) for yourself.

Are Heroes Necessary ... Or Not?

I frame the classes I teach in terms of an overarching "essential question" ... in other words, a question with no clear-cut answer intended to get my students thinking.  The literature we read, writing assignments we undertake, and pretty much everything that we explore in class can be tied back to that question, leading to higher order thinking on the part of students that is often just completely mind-blowing.

The essential question for my English 10 class is, "What does it mean to be a hero?" and, while it seems simple on the surface, the kids have already proven that it's possible to take it to intense philosophical depths.

The class had a seminar discussion focused on their initial understandings shortly after school started then had to write a reflection based on our whole-class conversation.

One of my students, an incredibly deep thinker who forces me to think in directions that are way beyond "out of the box" on a regular basis, asked for extended time as he grappled with articulating his thoughts on paper.  I was happy to accommodate his request as his ideas are always so original and thought-provoking.

This paper was no exception.

I was so impressed, in fact, that I talked to him about "publication" so that his contemplation on what it means to be a hero could be shared with a wider audience.  He was very excited about the idea, so I am posting his paper here in its entirety in the hopes that you will comment extensively on his points and an online discussion can transpire.  People from all over the world could potentially read, think about, and respond to his thoughts and reflections ... for this student, this would be unspeakably exciting.

And selfishly, I'm very curious to see what others think about it ... I know that it certainly raised my own concept of heroism to a new plateau.

The following was written by a sophomore in high school; while I've fixed spelling and grammar errors, the content is 100% his.  Please weigh in, as this is a kid who thrives on thinking ... being the impetus for an in-depth conversation beyond the classroom would be exciting and extremely valuable for him.

Thank you in advance :-)
-------------------------------------------------------
The discussion really opened my eyes up to what the rest of the world sees as heroes.  Some people think of heroes as an idiot who dresses up in tights and flies around the city, other minds go straight to military personnel as well as policemen and firefighters.  Perhaps the most common definition of a hero is someone you look up to.

I used to disagree with the thought of heroes, and this is why.  There are a few things that everyone knows.

1.  As a person, we always want to be better.

2.  No one is perfect.

So it seemed to make sense that heroes are just a way to get let down, and why would I set my sights at anything less than perfect?  If "perfect" is where I wanted to be ...  I figured following a hero is just the blind leading the blind, thinking they're not lost.

As I thought more, I decided I was right, no doubts, but I couldn't leave it at that.  If I wasn't going to look up to a person, what was I going to do?

Some people use religion.  They follow their God, much like a hero (e.g., "What would Jesus do?"), and this can act as their motivation and be used to set goals as a replacement to a hero.

I thought about this, too, and this didn't seem to work, either.  It seems as a way to label the world is out of my control.  Even if this is striving for perfection, I know I can only be as big as I will let myself be.

So still with no ideas what or who to look up to, who I wanted to be like, et cetera, I kept thinking, and I came across a thought.  A BIG thought.  I was looking in the wrong spot.  I shouldn't be looking up, I should be looking in.  

As wrong and unorthodox as it seems, with this idea everything seemed to make sense.  I'll be my own hero.  Instead of looking up to another person, I look up to the person I can (and will) become instead of saying, "I want to grow up and be like him."  I say, when I grow up, I just want to be me, the best me I can be.

This idea just works for me.  It uses no labels and no limits.  It gives room for infinite potential, and I know I won't have to worry about being too like anybody else.

In the end, if you think you need a hero, you're dead wrong, and if you still think heroes fly around in tights, I feel bad for you.

Honestly, I don't care what anybody thinks after reading this because I found my hero, and it's ...
*  my imagination
*  my inner self
*  and my future
rolled into one good thought.

"Legitimate Rape" and the Crazy Sheriff Candidate: Oh, What a World

Like most people with an IQ and a heart, I am still reeling from insensitive, untrue, and utterly disgusting comments made by Missouri Senate wannabe Todd Akin.  To wit, Akin basically analogized being raped to stubbing your toe.

And, according to Akin, those extremely rare occasions (sense the sarcasm here) where "legitimate rape" occurs almost never result in unwanted pregnancies because "the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down."

Yeah, this ignorant, insensitive buffoon could arguably be elected to the legislative branch of the United States Government ... scary.

Let me tell you about rape.

It's probably the worst crime that can possible be committed.  Let me list the ways ...

1.  It hurts.  Unspeakably.  And, if you're unlucky, you deal with the physical repercussions for many years.
2.  It is arguably the most under-reported crime because, let's face it, how humiliating would it be to go to a police officer and say, "I was raped?"  It shouldn't be, but it is ... 
3.  Even if you do have the guts to go to the police, it's very difficult to "prove" rape.  Not to put too fine a point on it, but how are authorities to put a judgment call on consensual sex vs. rape when there are so many variables?  So even those who do come forward are often told by authorities, "Yeah, too bad, so sad, there's not a lot we can do."
4.  Years later, you still break out in a cold sweat and get nauseous and remember when it happened to you when you hear the word "rape" or read about it in a book or see a news story or whatever.
5.  You feel dirty, ashamed, and as though you did something wrong ... even when you know intellectually that the only mistake you made was getting a drink with a friend of a friend of a friend that you didn't know.
6.  It destroys your trust in everyone and everything, and it permeates its ugliness into all facets of your life.  If I have to deal with a male in a position of authority (a bank manager, a boss, a police officer) and it gets remotely acrimonious, I am back to being intimidated by a man ... and I do not act my best.

Yes, as you've probably figured out, I have some personal experiences with this subject.  I have alluded before, both on this site and on Zelda Lily, to the fact that I was raped when I was twenty-one, but this crap with Todd Akin has made it important to me that I don't just say, "This guy's an idiot" but explain why his words are so painful.

Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan, by the way, have publicly stated that their ticket would not oppose abortion in cases of rape or incest (good for them, I say ... they did not hesitate to come down on what I believe to be the right side--pun not intended--and I commend them for that), and virtually every Republican in the country is calling for Akin to step down.

But this is a little bit more complicated than just some nutjob from Missouri making inflammatory remarks about rape victims and using them as pawns in the abortion debate.

See, New Hampshire has its own nutjob at the moment, and he's running for Sheriff of Hillsborough County.

[Sheriff Candidate Frank] Szabo may have inflamed the issue further when asked if he would use deadly force to prevent an abortion.

"I would respond specifically by saying that if someone is under threat, a full-grown human being, if they're under threat, what should the sheriff do? Everything in their power to prevent them from being harmed," he said.

When pressed about what he would do if he learned that a doctor was about to perform an elective abortion, Szabo replied he would do what it took to prevent that from happening.
"Absolutely," he said. "Well, I would hope that it wouldn't come to that, as with any situation where someone is in danger, but again, specifically talking about elective abortions and late-term abortions, that is an act that needs to be stopped."

So an abortion that happens as the result of a rape should lead to prosecution ... of the doctor?  Clearly Frank Szabo, Todd Akin, and their ilk have never been raped.  

I understand that abortion is a high-emotion issue; trust me, I understand that, and I would never judge anybody for their opinions on this.  I know and love people that are vehemently pro-choice, vehemently anti-abortion, and everywhere in between.  

Abortion is not the point of this post.  No, the point is the sick depths to which people will sink in politics ... and I guess the realization that it doesn't matter as much to you if it doesn't hit close to home.  When it does strike you where you live, so to speak, though, it is one thing to internalize it and be angry and bitter and so on.

It is something else entirely to say, "Not only are these men ignorant and dangerous in terms of the policies they would obviously be lobbying for, but they have no concept of the surprisingly large number of people they are hurting with this."

I didn't have the courage to speak out almost fifteen years ago.  It took me over ten years to tell anyone about what happened to me.  

But I cannot keep my mouth (or my laptop) closed on this one ... rape survivors have a voice, and I have kept mine silent for too long.  Out of honor and respect for those who are not able to do so, I say this now: speak out against Frank Szabo and Todd Akin, and certainly do not vote for them.  

Their insensitivity is telling of their leadership skills ... or lack thereof.

I had a pretty rough day yesterday ... with all of this on my mind (and the things it brought back), I guess it's no wonder ... maybe I should stop watching the news ;-).  Writing this has made me feel much better, though, even as I know I'm nearing the end of it and have to debate whether or not to hit the "Publish" button or just keep it to myself.  If you're reading this, I guess you'll know ...

The Bittersweet Tale of the Jelly Bean Puzzle

If you are my Facebook friend, you have no doubt heard much about the jelly bean puzzle.  It has sort of consumed my life in a way, and it's brought up a lot of emotions that are ... well, quite frankly, difficult.

A couple of weeks ago, Belle started going through this puzzle phase.  Basically, she did every single puzzle we had in the house (virtually all of them fairly simple ... they're all Disney Princess and Fancy Nancy children's puzzles).

It struck a chord with me, to say the least.  See, I used to love doing puzzles.  It was one of my absolute favorite activities.

The problem is, it was an activity that I shared with my stepfather.  I would start doing a puzzle on the dining room table, and he would grouse at me about it, then the next thing I knew, he would be helping me with it.  We would have epic puzzle events, and on more than one occasion we would glue and frame the end result (we took on some tough ones).

Sometimes it would take us days to get through puzzles.  A lot of the time, we worked on the current puzzle together.  Sometimes, he'd get home from work and I'd have made a ton of progress.  Often, I'd get home from school and find that he'd gotten huge sections done.  If we were stymied, we'd work together.

I haven't done a puzzle since my stepdad's death in 2004.

While I love both my mother and my father very much, there were complexities that did not exactly allow us to have the best of relationships.

My mother suffers from hypothyroidism, and before she was diagnosed and began medication ... well, walking on eggshells is the best way I can think of to describe it.  You never knew what would set her off, and she caused deeper scars with words than I can express.  I also tended to get the brunt of it, for reasons that are skeletons in my family closet.

The same can be said of why my (and my siblings') relationship with my father is so complicated.  It is not my intent to air dirty laundry, particularly laundry that dates back to when I was a sixth grader.  Life goes on.

And I am the first to admit that I was not an easy child, an easy teen, or, for a long time, an easy adult.

Which is why my stepdad was so important to me.  He accepted me the way I was, held me accountable for my actions without being cruel and abusive, and did not allow me to take myself too seriously.  He also buffered my often-acrimonious relationship with my mother and allowed us to appreciate and even come to like each other (you can love without liking, and I think my mother and I had that dynamic for quite a long time).

When he passed, I descended into a depression so deep that I wasn't even aware of it.  I had never been able to depend on anyone or anything until my stepdad came into the picture, and losing him left me so lost and adrift that I couldn't even verbalize it.  Trying to support my mom without letting her know how lost I was also presented a challenge.

My mother and stepfather were truly, madly, and deeply in love, and I cannot imagine the pain she suffered, then and now.  My own loss, deep as it was, pales next to what my mother has gone through since the lung cancer death sentence came down.    

Ironically, it was Pythagorus' fall into mental illness and alcoholism that snapped me out of my own multi-year zombie state of loss and pain.  Someone had to be strong for the kids ... after all, hadn't that been what my stepdad had done for me?  He would have been disgusted, utterly appalled, by Pythagorus' actions, would have felt unspeakable disdain for the man who had shaken to the core the lives of his beloved granddaughters, and I didn't want to be in the category of people who would disappoint my stepdad in any way.  

As I pulled myself out of the mess my life had someone become, it was my stepdad's face that I kept in front of me.  It was his strength that got me through, and I came to terms with his death in the process, strange as that sounds.

I've come quite far away from the who puzzle thing ...

When Belle got on her puzzle kick, I decided that I would get a more challenging puzzle that she and I could do together, that it would be a way for us to bond the way that my stepdad and I had.

However, I clearly got a little overzealous with my choice of puzzle--a 1,000 piece monster made entirely of various colors of jelly beans.

Suffice it to say, I'm out of practice vis a vis the wild world of jigsaw puzzles, and Belle quickly found that this was a different kind of thing altogether and lost interest.

Progress has definitely been made ...

There is lots of work left to do, however, and it is a bittersweet experience for me.

Part of me keeps hoping that my stepdad will show up, because this was our absolutely favorite kind of puzzle--quite a challenge, and one that can be worked on a little bit at a time.

I'm just feeling like I'm not up to the task all by myself, and like I said, Belle bailed.

I'm going to keep on trucking, though.  Even if it takes me a month, I am going to get this stupid puzzle finished.  And then I am going to glue it and frame it and keep it for always, because even though it didn't necessarily allow Belle and I to bond in the way I'd hoped, it's given me back a little bit more of my stepdad ... in a healthy and not-depressed way, if that makes sense.

I am deeply happy working on this puzzle even while I'm incredibly sad.  Does that make any sense?

So anyway, that's the story of why the jelly bean puzzle that I've been bemoaning on Facebook is more than just a puzzle ...

Catharsis.

Note: School starts for me on Friday (I know, I can't believe it, either), which is also the day that Addie leaves for college.  I am going to be pretty busy (and strung out) the next week or so, but I have some great guest posts lined up--one from my favorite student of all time, one from my good buddy Martin over at From Sand to Glass, and one from a friend of Henry's who's become my good friend too over Facebook (don't you love technology?).  I hope you'll enjoy all of them (I think they're pretty amazing :-)), and if you're interested in writing a guest post, drop me an e-mail.