Beginnings and Endings

As the end of the ISI approaches, I always become a little more reflective. I wonder what will happen to this community. What part will survive? Who will stay in touch? Who will re-connect throughout the year, sending candidates for the ISI our way, reading the newsletter, writing for the newsletter, serving as an E-Anthology responder next year, re-presenting the demo at another conference, serving on a committee, leading a group of some kind--just generally staying connected in some way? The Game Night scheduled for two weeks from now suggests a desire to stay connected.

But I also wonder what part should survive? What part of the ISI is worth saving and re-creating in some way, and what parts shouldn't see next year? For example, we're divided over whether or not to keep fiction as a writing genre for next year. We know we're keeping memoir and poetry, but what about fiction? We don't know. I'm hoping the Fellows' reflective pieces will tell us.

I always want the writing to continue in some form, which is why we're keeping Write Night for one more year. While I would love to meet in person to freewrite, that hasn't proved feasible here. Online Write Night is much more possible, particularly if I can get a few people to serve as responders for Write Night, just to ensure that people aren't writing into a void.

I would LOVE to have reading groups continue, but that's more for me. I need an impetus to stay up with professional reading, instead of just reading and researching frantically to prep for a demo or a publication. I don't know if BWP is the place for that or if that should happen at the university. I guess it depends in part on what the readings are. Plus, I think reading groups need to happen face-to-face, but maybe that's just because face-to-face is my preferred mode of communication in general.

I'm hungry, so I'll take a break to grab some food: bacon and sausage roll-ups, watermelon, and muffins, courtesy of my mother-in-law. Thanks, Mimi--the Muppets appreciate it.

Hmm, back to what should stay? I hope grant writing continues in some way for participants, but that's really up to them and their school situations and their time components. Sarah submitted her grant this year, Ashley has written them in previous years, and Kristy helps write grants every day as part of her job with the dean's office. I don't know about anyone else's grant efforts. We had a strange situation this year with grants because of the number of graduate students in the group. Their grant proposal is strong. I'll see if they and members of the leadership team want to submit it when I write the NWP Continuation of Funding grant in November. I'll have to come up with matching funds if we submit it, but I think I can manage an extra $5,000 in matching funds--at least I hope I can.

There are many beginnings and endings in my life right now--the ending of the ISI, the beginning of my summer break. We're putting our house on the market (we met with the realtor yesterday), and we'll be looking for a new one. We're moving from a family of two to a family of four, which will be a huge change, probably meaning an end to our travels to London, India, Greece and the beginning of sporting events and video games.

The ending of the ISI also means for me the beginning of exercise. I need to start getting up in the morning to walk, getting myself into some kind of shape before the twins arrive. I already feel like a butterball, and I'm huffing and puffing when I climb the stairs in the College of Education, loaded down with my bookbag, laptop, and breakfast stuff. I didn't bring drinks this morning because I didn't want to carry the cooler--I think it pushes me over the twenty-pound limit imposed by my doctor.

Rebecca, Shane, and I will pack up the room today, storing away ISI supplies until next year. The dolly is in the back of my Ford Edge, ready to be used to haul stuff to my car and then haul it up to West Hall to the dusty storage space around the rotunda. Some of the ISI supplies that I bought (coffee, sugar, artificial sweetener, etc.) will go back to my house for when my dad visits. Some of the ISI supplies (three-hole punch, big door stop) will go back to the English Department. Some of the ISI supplies (BWP books, stapler, small door stop, ISI notebooks) will go back to my office.

Hmm, what other beginnings and endings? The beginning of my summer break also means vacation for me, a week away from Valdosta at St. George Island with family, the annual Food Fest that is our family vacation. Each couple cooks dinner one night--I'm responsible for quesadillas, and I also take a Boston Butt that's already cooked, courtesy of the youth of First United Methodist Church. I think I'm usually responsible for laundry detergent too. I need to check on that. Anyway, I do nothing that week but sit in the sun, read trashy novels, and sleep. Maybe I'll play Scattergories or Cranium if we take those games, but I don't usually participate in the Canasta tournament or the jigsaw puzzles. I don't know why. The Canasta games take too long, and I'd rather be reading. The puzzles just don't interest me that much--crossword puzzles, yes; jigsaw puzzles, no.

Shoot, all my watermelon is gone. I think the watermelon is the best part of this breakfast for me, which surprises me because I like bacon and sausage, so mixing it with cream cheese and biscuits sounds like a winner. And they are good, but I guess this morning is a watermelon morning. The blueberry muffin was good too--of course. Mimi is an excellent cook.

Someone's music must be pretty loud because I keep hearing bits of it despite the person wearing headphones. I bet it's Kristy. Yesterday she thought her headphones weren't working because she could hear the music when the headphones were plugged in. Shane told her that was because the music was really loud.

The writing seems to be going well for everyone this morning. Pens scramble across the page; fingers race across keyboards. Except for Stuart. He's the thoughtful one in the group. I hope he doesn't have a concussion. His head took quite a whack on the television holder. Isn't that the stupidest place ever for the television to be mounted, especially when the mount doesn't seem to be movable?! He seems okay. I guess he'll need to share so that we can check his coherence.

Hmm, what else? I don't know. I guess I'm running out of steam. Maybe I'll do a bathroom run so that I don't have to leave during the sharing time. Later.

Freewriting topic for Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Today's freewriting topic (for the last full day of the ISI) is Beginnings and Endings, but we considered several others: Vacations, Plans, Summer, Travel. Feel free to write about whatever you want.

Verbal Blunders

Apparently, I'm the queen of misheard lyrics. I never know what songs are saying, so I just make up my own lyrics and sing along. That worked fine until Wes and I started traveling together, and he started laughing at my lyrics. Now I sing a little bit softer than before, mumbling the words I don't know rather than belting them out. I also don't think often about the implications of the lyrics. Once Wes slows me down and I realize both what the words are and what they imply, I sometimes dislike the song.

Speaking of verbal blunders, I like Spoonerisms. I tried to copy and paste a definition from Wikipedia, but it won't play nice. Spoonerisms involve transposing letters, basically. Grr, I can't even provide a link to Wikipedia right now. If you go to Wikipedia and type in Spoonerism, you'll find the definition. Apparently, my computer or Blogger or Wikipedia won't let me provide shortcuts!

The most common Spoonerism is Wes's family is "whif and en" instead of "if and when." Wes said it once in front of most of his family, and it stuck. Now we use "whif and en" in place of "if and when" fairly regularly although only in front of friends. I'm not sure it's technically still considered a Spoonerism if we use the erroroneous words intentionally.

What are some other Spoonerisms? Wikipedia offers several funny examples, but because of the aforementioned cut and paste problems, I won't be sharing those with you. After all, I can't be expected to type them . . .

Hmm, other verbal blunders . . . I make them all the time, mostly using the wrong word, not the wrong word as in using "in" when I should use "into" but as in using "ketchup" when I mean "ice cream." I wonder if there's a name for that kind of error. Hmm, I haven't found a term for it yet. Maybe it's just called being tired.

I wonder what all the noises are outside of this room. I guess it's construction right outside the building. I kind of want to go check, but I know I need to be writing, so I'll keep sitting here writing, wondering that's going on that I'm not a part of. Not that I want to help with construction, but I just want to know that's what it is.

Yeah, I'm struggling to stay on topic now. It feels like half the day is gone. Yesterday was busy with really no breaks except for lunch and dinner. I stayed in the ISI room, typing up comments until 5:00.

I went home, unloaded the dishwasher, printed Megan's comments, typed Megan's letter, printed that. Then I sent Emily a few more RSVPs that had some in, loaded the dishwasher, ordered pizza (my version of cooking last night), and took a quick break with Wes while we ate pizza. I made the monkey bread and started slicing oranges while Wes replaced light bulbs in the kitchen. Wes took over orange duty while I went and ironed two shirts for him. Sometime during all that, he scrubbed the tub since I'm not supposed to breathe those chemicals.

I started entering all the email addresses for BWP/SGWP past participants into Windows Live. When Wes finished, we filled out a checklist for our real estate agent about our current house. Some of those questions, I had no clue about. I couldn't even understand the questions! We left some blank to ask her about today. Then, I finished entering the email addresses. It took a while. I need to send out the newsletter, but I can't do that until I enter all the email addresses and figure out how to create a group.

I started looking for user guides about how to enter groups because Windows Live is not intuitive. I found a section on public groups, but the only way to enter them is to use people with valdosta.edu email addresses. Hello! I don't need to create a group consisting of only VSU people. Surely, other people have this same problem. About 11:30 when I was ready to throw stuff and punch people, we went to bed. Then the alarm went off at 6:15 a.m., and today started with cooking the monkey bread, getting ready for the ISI, stopping by Harveys for milk (which someone besides me had better drink), and lugging breakfast and my regular bag o'stuff to the ISI. The shoulder bags were so heavy today that I actually took the elevator (gasp!).

Despite the tone of these last few paragraphs, I'm not whining. I'm just tired. I enjoyed making the monkey bread. It reminds me of past ISIs; plus, it's really good. I've always wanted to make it but never needed to because either Adam or Lindsi made it. Now I have the recipe and know how to do it. That's a good thing--or maybe a bad thing.

Monkey bread also reminds me of Christmas. My sister-in-law makes it every Christmas morning, and my mother-in-law makes breakfast casserole, pretty much the same one I made for the first day of the ISI.

Yeah, I've definitely rambled today, but people expect that of me. Why disappoint at this stage?

Freewriting topic for Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Today's topic is Verbal Blunders or New Words Needed. It is in honor of one of our Fellows who coined the term "spontanudity." Feel free to come up with your own words or just talk about times you have misunderstood someone else.

Freewriting topic for Monday, June 21

Today's topic is an old standby: I remember . . .

Summer Institute

Food functions as a bookend for the Summer Institute. We begin with muffins and coffee at the first PreInstitute, and we end with a brunch for Closing Ceremonies. Okay, that's going nowhere.

Milestones:

• first car, Penelope Alexis Newberry, a burgundy 1974 MG Midget convertible, which I still think was the coolest car I ever owned. I loved that car.
• first publication, a book review of Academic Literacies by Elizabeth Chiseri-Strater, published in ???. Grrr, I can't remember the name of the newsletter, and I never thought I would forget it. I even tried looking it up and couldn't find it. I
• first peer-reviewed article, a journal article about using ethnography in the classroom to have students study the cultures of their undergraduate classes, published in Notes on Teaching English
• first boyfriend, Brett Smoot, I think--I'm not sure about the last name. We were in fifth grade, and he gave me a Shrinky Dink heart. Does anyone besides me remember Shrinky Dinks? We lived in Delaware, and I think I have my first boy/girl party in either fifth or sixth grade. Ah, kissing tag, spin the bottle, post office . . .
• first baby kick, that just happened this past Sunday night. Everyone had been asking if I had felt them kick yet, and I kept answering no, wondering if I or my babies were somehow slow. The ultrasound the week before had reassured me that all was well since one clearly kept kicking the other. They were moving; I just couldn't feel it. Finally, I read in What to Expect that the first kicks don't feel like kicks. Then I felt them. They feel more like bubbles bursting inside my belly. It's like the Lawrence Welk show broke out in there.
• first job, well, that was probably babysitting, but I'm going to skip ahead to the first job at a business, which would be working at McDonald's. I worked there one summer when I was fourteen. My sister worked there, which might be why they hired me despite my being too young to actually get a work permit. I only worked that summer, quitting before cheerleading camp started since I knew that I wouldn't be able to work many weekends because of basketball games. (My high school didn't have a football team, so we cheered for basketball.)
• First teaching experience, I still remember my first day in the classroom at Florida State, wearing my white dress with the wide collar (remember those wide collars from the 1990s?). I looked like a girl going to her first communion or a girl getting ready to become a nun rather than a teacher, but I thought teaching meant dressing up, and I thought dressing up would help separate me more from the kids I was teaching, who were only five years younger than I was. I didn't want them to know my age.
• First Summer Institute, I was a nervous wreck, not sure how any of this would work out, not sure if community would form, not sure how Fellows would handle the switch in co-directors--one co-director had already committed to grading AP exams, so he missed the first week of the ISI, and we had a substitute in his place. I wondered who would become the next co-directors since both co-directors were moving out of town (and one out of state) almost immediately following the ISI.
• First flight, trip to Utah, I think, or maybe the trip to St. Louis. Now I can't remember which one came first. Hmmm. Any way, one trip (St. Louis) I took by myself, and Wes went with me to Utah. I still remember flying into Salt Lake City. Our plane didn't land until 9:00 or so, and the landing was a bit interesting. Apparently, our plane left Atlanta late, and the pilot made up the time in the air because when we got to Salt Lake City, it felt like the plane just stopped in the air. Wes and I looked at each other, both of us thinking the same thing. We have having a Wiley Coyote moment where we just ran off the cliff and realized that we had stopped. It was pretty cool. When we landed, it was dark, and we still had to pick up our rental car and find our hotel for the night. The next morning we would drive to Provo, where the conference was. When we woke up the next morning, we were amazed by the beauty surrounding us. We hadn't seen the mountains the night before. Absolutely beautiful.
• First trip out of the country: the three-week faculty development trip to India, a beautiful country. I learned so much there, about India, about myself, about my independence. That trip was followed by three study-abroad trips to London with side trips to Scotland, Ireland, and France and a trip to Greece with Wes for a wedding. All of my international trips (aside from two cruises with family members) were working trips.

Thanks, Shane. I enjoyed this topic more than I thought I would at first.

Freewriting topic for Thursday, June 17, 2010

Today's freewriting topic, courtesy of Shane, is Bookends or Milestones.

Picture This!

Even though I'm one of the few women who is not addicted to The Golden Girls, every time I hear, "Picture this," I think of Estelle Getty from The Golden Girls. And then I expect to hear a weird, random story.

Wes is a storyteller too. He doesn't have a catch phrase, but he likes to tell stories, embellishing them of course as storytellers do. Thus, I don't want any Fellows to believe any stories he tells about me because they probably aren't true--or at least, only the core of the story is true; then it grew beyond its borders to create a better frame, better characters, more tension.

So Picture This . . . .what are the stories that we tell (or better yet, don't tell)?

• the tree frog story--that's a don't tell. Wes will receive injuries if he tells that one.
• the Jernigan's bathroom story--that one only gets told and shared among the family members who were there. I still remember every detail, and yet I still married him.
• getting stuck in the deer stand--I seriously wanted Wes to go get my brother, the fire chief, to get me down. Wes was there for that, and he still married me.
• Bite My Butt!--that's Wes's story, one he tells to our nieces and nephews. He can still inhabit the mind of the impatient kid he was at that time. He still gets annoyed as he tells that story about waiting for his family to go to the beach.
• Keeper of the Crabs--that story we actually wrote up, and Wes illustrated it. We gave it to all the nieces and nephews as a Christmas present one year. My niece Chelsea took it to show and tell and read it to her classmates, and my nephew Will memorized it for oral interpretation. Stupidly, we didn't keep a copy for ourselves. It would have been nice to have one for our kids.

We have a lot of stories that we tell when we get together. I love to listen to people's stories, particularly when told by a good storyteller. Well, that's not quite true. I like to listen to funny stories or stories that show drama, but I don't particularly enjoy stories with heavy morals or stories designed to tug at heartstrings. I don't understand people's desire to cry. Crying sucks. Why would anyone engage in such behavior intentionally?

Okay, back to today's topic: Picture Day. Several people are wearing black today: Patti, Ashley, Rebecca, Sarah. I didn't get the memo, but I'm not sure it would have mattered since my clothing options are limited to pregnancy clothes and I wore a black dress yesterday for the Rotary Club Board Meeting and dinner last night. (Yep, there it is. The ever-present pregnancy reference.)

I did bring a brush, but that will be the extent of my attempts to pretty up before the picture. I can always ask Wes to do a head shot for me on another day if needed, but I don't think I'll be liking any pictures for several more months.

Hmm, Picture Day . . . last year the BWP folks were a Subway commercial on Picture Day. We literally broke one of Wes's benches. That's never a good sign. Maybe we should start doing Picture Day the first week of the ISI before people gain weight? I should follow up with last year's Fellows to see if people lost their ISI weight.

Okay, I'm wondering what to write now. I'm kind of running out of steam.

I look around for inspiration, but no ideas arrive. I watch people's writing processes, but have nothing to say.

Time stretches before me, time that must elapse before I can quit this writing. And yet here I sit, my fingers fumbling over the keyboard, not racing frantically, my mind grasping for ideas, for content, for thoughtfulness. I've given up on style, on wittiness, on deep thoughts, settling for words loosely connected to others. Maybe I'll get coffee this morning. Even decaffeinated coffee has a bit of caffeine, perhaps enough to jump start the synapses, make them fire, make myself seem smarter, funnier. Heck, I'd even settle for making myself believe that I'm smarter or funnier--even if no one else finds me to be so. Today seems like a day I can fool myself and be happy about it.

On another random note, um, yeah, apparently so random that I forgot what I was going to write. That can't be good. Um, I should probably stop putting my brain spasms on display. Later.

Freewriting topic for Wednesday, June 16

Today's topic is Picture Day because today is the day we invade Wes's studio for group photos and headshots.

Picture Day

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. It's that time again. The annual trek to Wes Sewell Photography to take headshots and the ISI group photo.

I have never been a picture type of person. When I was a cheerleading coach, I was amused by my cheerleaders who would take pictures of everything. Who knew they were smarter than I was. I eventually got on the camera train when I took over Varsity, and I treasure those pictures, especially now that I and my girls have left the halls of Coffee High. Some went on college hours from home; others moved as far away as Europe while some left Douglas only to discover that there is no place like home. Anf many are married and with children. I am thankful for the advent of Facebook, so I can see the next generation's picture days.

As an adult, I try to avoid picture day. At PGM, I thought that if I ignored the all calls about faculty pictures, I wouldn't have to take one because it had worked at Hahira for the past two years. But I guess at a small school, it's a lot more obvious when the faculty doesn't show up. I argued that I couldn't leave my reading class unattended, but alas, they still made me take my picture. So, if I ever become famous, I'm sure people will be quick to sell E! the picture of me in my PGM hoodie. Not that I plan on ever becoming famous.

I don't like people who are photogenic. Is that mean? That reminds me of a conversation from lunch on Mother's Day. I was at O'Neal's with my other adoptive family, the Grants. Susie, the youngest, told us a story about how a co-worker, while looking at family pictures posted on Facebook, stated that both John and Susie were unphotogenic. The irony is that John and Susie are in-laws. I wonder what the co-worker looks like.

Now I'm thinking about who in my life I think is photogenic and what makes a person photogenic. Is it just that he/she is attractive? Or is it something else? I'd like to think that the camera sees something that the eye doesn't. Let me go check my theory. Okay, I'm back. Now I'm wondering if there is a difference between photogenic and cute. Or are they synonymous? Can a cute person not be photogenic? Are all children, because they are children, photogenic? Do you lose your photogenic-ness at a certain age? If so, what is the expiration date? Or, can you, with proper training, become photogenic? (This reminds me of a certain friend's advice to stick out your chin to avoid having a double-chin although this resulted in her looking like a bird in family pictures.) Still, I think I shall be sticking my chin out this afternoon. And maybe some other body parts. :)

Rituals

I am extremely ritualistic. About some things. For example, before I use my computer, I always take off my watch. When I get home, I have to take out my contacts although I don't always wash my face. (I know, I know.) And prior to this week, to keep me company while I ate, I would put on a DVD of Law and Order, whether it was the original, SVU, or Criminal Intent.

Some rituals are easier to follow than others. Since school got out, I have been going to the SRC at least three times a week to train for a 10k. Now that we are in the SI, I am up to four. Last week during me and Shane's writing marathon, I was surprised to discover that I could actually run for 25 if I had someone to compete with. Yesterday, I went back on my 10k training plan with the exception of running the first mile then running for six minutes at a time. Admittedly, it makes the 30 minutes on the treadmill go a lot faster. That's pretty much my goal for the 10k.

Sorry to bore all of you with my running nonsense, but it is one of the rituals that I am truly consistent with. And I think that it's because of how it makes me feel. As much as I dislike it, I think about how I would feel if I didn't go. And to quote Elle Woods, "Exercise gives you endorphines. Endorphines make you happy. Happy people don't just shoot their husbands. They just don't." So, I don't have a husband. Apply it to the general public.

Another ritual that I have is getting up super early to do work. God bless poor Lorelai. She just doesn't know what to make of me. I was just talking to my mother about this last night. I am fierce about separating my home life from school life, and for as long as I can remember, I have gone to school early, stayed late, or gone in on the weekend to get things done. (If only I could learn not to bring things home.) I wish that this was a ritual that I could break, but after ten years of teaching, I don't see it changing anytime soon. Thank goodness I work at a school, that during the school year, I can get in whenever I want to. And aside for inconveniencing my dog and my mom, who has to love me no matter what, I'm not causing any problems for anyone else. But me.

Do I wish that I could go to bed and get up at a normal hour? Yes. Maybe I need to go to procrastinator's rehab or something to reprogram my brain.

In the meantime, I will be proud of the fact that at least I am exercising, eating right, remembering to bleach at night (though not wear my retainers), and making it to church at least twice a month. (Three times if I'm on a roll.)

Rituals

Hmm, what are the rituals in my life? I'm not sure how many I have right now. Many of my rituals involved food, and they've disappeared because many foods I once loved have disappeared.

Let me switch to the Writing Project, and try to brainstorm some rituals:

• eating breakfast together--it's the breaking of bread, the aspect of communion, not a formalized ritual such as the dipping of the bread into the wine, but a ritual nonetheless, one that moves us away from a class and more toward a community
• writing together--the insistence that teachers must write is one of the key tenets of the Writing Project, both at the national level and the local site. Regardless of discipline and grade level, teachers should experience the attempt to craft meaning, the attempt to pull together a world on the page, whatever shape that world takes, whether it involves the genre of poetry, fiction, memoir, notes, presentations, grants, letters, etc. Without writing, teachers become distracted by what scholars say about writing. Clearly, BWP values those discussions, but they need to be grounded by the reality of classrooms, timetables, and our own experiences.
• sharing--perhaps the cornerstone of the Writing Project. It's not enough to write and hide one's writing away in a notebook. Publishing, on some level, even if that level is simply speaking words aloud, is necessary. Similar to eating together, sharing promotes community. It showcases that writers have good days and bad days. It creates an atmosphere that prompts growth.

Okay, let's go back to me. What are the rituals in my life? I'm still drawing a blank. Grrr. What's wrong with my? I don't usually go blank on writing topics.

Okay, it's clearly time to ditch the topic and move on. Maybe I'll just write about my day. I woke up at 6:10, three minutes before my alarm was set, and it was set fifteen minutes early because I needed to go by VSU to photocopy my log. I thought about going up there at 9:15 last night when I finished it, but I was exhausted, so I decided to get up early instead.

Last night was productive. I typed up comments from Stuart's demo, wrote letters about Jennifer's and Stuart's demos, wrote the log and strategy for it, revised the syllabi for the ISI, unloaded the dishwasher and reloaded it, and did some other stuff that escapes me know. I photocopied the demo eval forms right after the ISI yesterday, so I already had that done. Basically, I worked yesterday from 7:30 a.m. to 10:00 p.m. with a short break to make egg sandwiches for dinner.

And yet I'm not that tired today. I thought I would be. Tonight's the night I have to go to Mom and Dad's for dinner. Wes has a board meeting for the Rotary Club, and this meeting is also a social. It starts at 5:30. Who eats that early? I'll barely be home from the ISI by that time. Well, I'll definitely be ready by then, but normally, I would just be getting home, and then I'd still have the demo comments to type. I guess they may not get typed tonight unless the meeting doesn't go too long.

Ooh, plus I still have to put the quesadillas together for Thursday's lunch. I guess that can happen Wednesday night. I haven't quite figured out what all I need to bring. Maybe that will be the next list.

• griddle
• cooking oil
• spatula
• quesadillas
• cooler with sour cream
• salsa
• pizza cutter
• one real plate for cutting the quesadillas

I wanted to make a taco salad to go with it, but that's not happening now, I see. Oh well, the quesadillas should be sufficient. I'll pick up some chips and dips for munching while I'm heating the quesadillas. I made them less spicy than normal. I usually use hot salsa, but I don't know people's tolerance for spice, so I wimped out.

The twins are stirring. They're gymnasts, I think.

During creative writing group, I need to write an end comment to the grant. I've done marginal comments already. I think that's all that I still have left to do to be caught up until the demo today, which will put me behind again. Oh well. Maybe we should go back to demos in the morning. No, that would be good for me, but not for the ISI, and the ISI matters more. Having demos right after lunch gives the presenter a chance to use lunch to make any last-minute adjustments and to make sure the technology is working correctly.

Speaking of lunch, I wonder where we're going for lunch today. Ooh, and that reminds me of other tasks to do.

• Review the newsletter draft Diana sent me.
• Check the master calendar, brochure draft, and closing ceremonies list Emily sent me.
• Contact anyone from the closing ceremonies list for an RSVP.
• Contact ISI folks about closing ceremonies tasks.

Hmm, it's the normal end-of-ISI craziness. This week and next week I'll be struggling to make sure everything is ready.

Okay, I need to think about more restful ideas, which is where I thought Rituals would take me as a topic. When I got stressed, I used to relax by soaking in a hot bubble bath. That's out. No hot baths for baby incubators, even though the idea of one entices me. When I struggled to sleep, particularly to stop my brain from running through all the tasks I needed to accomplish, I used to take a Tylenol PM. That's out. No drugs for the twins, at least not yet. I assume they'll share some good drugs with me when I have the C-section. When I needed a pick-me-up, I used to head to Starbucks or Elliano's for a grande, non-fat caramel mocha. For a while there I lost my taste for chocolate. It's back now, but I'm supposed to stay away from artificial sweeteners. Caffeine also isn't great for me, but I'm allowed one cup of anything caffeinated if I want it. I thought about stopping for a decaffeinated caramel mocha this morning, but I know I'm not getting enough water, so I decided to stick with water. This conversation with myself, though, has changed my mind. During the break I'm heading to Einstein's to see what the coffee options include since I CANNOT stop myself from yawning.

Surely, that's enough rambling for today. I pity who reads this if anyone does. My mind wanders from one topic to another like a kid distracted by the next shiny object. I pick up the idea, play with it a bit, drop it, and run to the next shiny thought. No coherence, no logic, no organization. Maybe the twins are zombies, and they're starting to eat my brain already.

Freewriting topic for 6-15-10

Today's topic is Rituals.

Sleep

I can write an ode to sleep, and maybe I will. The trouble began for me Friday morning. Because I had set my alarm for 5:40 Thursday morning to be in Albany for my 8:30 doctor's appointment, I was exhausted Thursday night. Friday morning, I didn't have to be in class, so I slept until I work up, which was 8:30 a.m. I know that doesn't sound late to most people, but during the ISI I get up at 6:30 at the latest and go until 11 or 12, then do it all again.

Ooh, one of the boys just kicked me. Kicked is a bit of a misnomer. It feels more like a bubble burst. There it goes again. Cool.

Anyway, I didn't set an alarm all weekend and slept until 8:30 every morning. Of course, when music started playing in the bedroom at 6:30, I wanted to pound something. Nothing was really around except for Wes, and it wasn't his fault that I stayed up too late and hadn't gotten sufficient sleep, so I turned off the alarm and got up, trying to be relatively quiet about it since he didn't have to be up until 8:30 or so, and he had been up as late as I had. I couldn't sleep last night (couldn't get comfortable in this pregnant body), and apparently, if I can't sleep, no one sleeps.

Yep, I'm all over the place today, but I another random note. When I told Lindsi about one boy kicking the other in the head on the ultrasound, she said, "Oh, one of them takes after you!" That's not nice, is it? I don't know that I've ever kicked anyone. Maybe hit, punched, or slapped, but not kicked. That's way too girly, right up there with pulling hair and scratching. Okay, maybe I've scratched, but that's always been an accident when my nails get too long.

Incoherence is my theme today. Perhaps that should be my topic. My writing certainly blunders from one idea to the next with no clear sense of direction, a mini-Frankenstein.

Ode to Sleep
You rescue me,
taking me to exotic places,
revisiting Greece,
Belize,
India,
reuniting me with friends from Apalachicola, Florida,
from Rehoboth Beach, Delaware,
from Whigham, Georgia.

This morning I left you again;
these short separations must stop.
I need you,
craving your arms around me,
wanting more and more time with you.
These nightly six-hour visits aren't enough;
they tease me without satisfying me.

Name the place, and I'll join you.
I prefer our bed,
snuggled into the sheets,
the comforter pulled around my chin,
head upon my pillow
belly resting upon another pillow,
but I'll meet you anywhere:
curled up on the loveseat,
leaned back in the driver's seat of my car,
even stretched across the floor without cushions.
Just meet me,
and send me into unconsciousness,
relaxing my mind
and my soul.

Topic for Monday, June 14

Today's topic is Sleeping In, which seems mean for a Monday morning, but I really wanted to sleep this morning. As always, write about the topic or ignore the topic and write what you want.

Water Works

This reminds me of my time at Wild Adventures. I started out in the gift shop and soon was moved to group sales. I worked there from the time that I returned from Kissimmee, Florida (circa 1999) to when I got my job teaching in Coffee County. And every summer until 2006, I would return because 1) I liked having something to do in the summer. 2) they worked around my cheerleading coach schedule. 3) the extra money wasn't bad.

What stories I could tell about my experiences at Wild Adventures. It wasn't entirely hard work; checking in groups in the mornings always made the time go by faster. As a teacher, it always disturbed me when school groups would arrive and not know how many students that they had with them. Isn't that chaperoning 101? Count the kids before you leave the school? So, the poor children would be baking on the busses while the disorganized group leader attempted to do math at the check-in window. Family reunions were also entertaining since Wild Adventures had a twenty group minimum. So, family reunions would call earlier in the week, make a reservation for the lower rate to avoid the walk up rate, then have to scramble to find family members to make the twenty. The kicker was that the payment had to be in one form (one credit card or cash). We could split the payment twice. If we felt so inclined. That was pretty much up to our discretion. Depending on our mood, we would either leave our window open, allowing our cool air from our office to filter out into the defacto group leader's flushed face. Or give them a piece of paper and a pencil and tell them to knock on the window when they were ready.

After we checked in groups, time tended to stand still. Normally we would had to return voice mails and do mail outs of reservations. But if we were really lucky, a summer thunderstorm would roll through and one of us workers might be able to go home early. Those of us who worked in group sales loved thunderstorms.

Water

Hmm, I've spent a ton on time on or near the water. Living in Apalachicola as a kid meant access to St. George Island as well as the Apalachicola River. In Delaware for a month we lived in the Henelopen Hotel, right on the boardwalk with the Atlantic Ocean outside our door (while we waited for our double-wide trailer to be moved up there). Then we lived in a trailer park with a pool--it seemed like heaven. In Whigham, the Flint River wasn't far away, and my family had a small cabin on Lake Seminole near Chattahoochee, Florida (site of the hospital/prison for mentally disturbed folks--that makes for some fright when you hear strange noises in the night).

After Wes and I married and lived in Tallahassee, we spent a week every year at the state park on St. George Island, staying in my parents' Winnebago. It was the only vacation we could afford when I was working on my PhD at Florida State, but it was a great vacation. We still try to get to the beach for a week every year, usually with his side of the family, and then we visit for long weekends whenever possible. Wes's brother has a place at Lake Eufala, and we love it there too. I think we both need water. (Yes, I know I need drinking water too, but that's not what I mean. Those of you in this summer's ISI know how much I struggle to drink water for the Muppets, which might be why I "spilled" my water bottle yesterday. Oops!)

Water refreshes me spiritually. I don't even have to go into the water. I just need to be near it, to watch the baby waves crash against the shore (if you've been to St. George Island, you know it doesn't usually have real waves), to hear the sea gulls scream. I watch ghost crabs scramble across the sands, darting furtively, watching for intruders, peeking out from their homes. Ghost crabs are the beach version of prairie dogs.

I wonder what St. George Island will be like in July. Will the oil reach our shores by then? Will I be able to lower myself into a beach chair and, more importantly, hoist myself back out?

Oh my gosh, I've become that woman I never wanted to be, the one consumed by what's happening inside me, focused on the Muppets to the exclusion of much else. Well, that's not quite true, except for my writing. When I sit down in a quiet place to write, my mind inevitably turns to them, to their progress (currently the size of cantaloupes), to their traits (smart? funny? cute?), to their health (am I staying out of the paint fumes in the ISI room enough?). I guess I'll be obssessed about them for the rest of my life, but it's still weird to me.

I like how quiet the room is this year--or at least today--while I'm writing. I like sitting across from Rebecca. She always makes me laugh because she makes good faces when she writes. Patti is a facemaker too, but not Sarah. Sarah bends over her paper, shielding her face from the eyes of others, writing by hand, her pen moving smoothly across the page. Patti's fingernails click on the keyboard, but not Kristy's. Kristy is a quiet typer, one who focuses on her keyboard and screen.

Okay, bathroom time, courtesy of the Muppets. I'll be back.

And I'm back. Hmm, water works? I've lost my train of thought. Maybe I'll just list potential topics and ask my friends online to generate some more. I want new freewriting prompts for this year rather than the same ones we've used in the past. Feel free to chime in with some more.

Potential topics:

• radio ads
• board games
• family rituals
• obssessions
• high school drama
• reality tv
• perceptions vs. reality
• stereotypes
• first car
• biking
• the need for speed
• breaking the law
• punked

Any more ideas, anyone?

Freewriting topic for June 9, 2010

Today's topic is Water Works. Maybe it makes you think of a crying jag a la Bridget Jones. Or maybe it makes you think of cool engineering feats with water, such as the fountains at Versailles (is that spelled right?). Or maybe it just reminds you of fun times on the water. Whatever. Take it wherever it takes you, or ignore it, and write whatever you want.

Lack of Communication....Between Educational Practices

Last year I did BWP. I loved it. I learned so much about writing and how to incorporate different strategies in my classroom. I learned how to reach learners on all levels. So many things that I forgot some and will have flashes of BWP brilliance from time to time.

This summer is not living up to last summer.

I'm currently in two different educational training courses and will complete another by the end of the summer. Some of the ideas are exactly the same, so why do I need to learn them twice? Others just flat don't make any sense.

What I deem a unit, the rest of the world does not. The wonderful ideas I get about making one paper lead into the next unit don't quite mesh with the GPS frameworks. Please don't misunderstand. My ideas match the standards perfectly. In fact, I got 11 standards in one unit. However my ideas on how to incorporate the standards isn't exactly what the state wants. The writing assignments I design are in context with the literature, which is something I'm pretty sure we discussed in BWP.

Did I mention that this unit I'm having to write needs to cover 6 weeks? SIX WEEKS! What unit needs to take 6 weeks in a block/semester schedule? There are four units within the frameworks of the GPS 10th grade lit/comp. That would be 24 weeks per the whole 10th grade cirriculum. I only have 18 weeks per semester.

I like designing my own units with my own ideas. If I am asking my students to create a variety of products amongst themselves, why shouldn't teachers be just as different?

Freaks and Geeks...

So, yesterday's topic of Freaks and Geeks makes me think of my newfound love for the show The Big Bang Theory. I was just introduced to it a few weeks ago, and I immediately fell in love with it! I pretty much gave up sleep and made my way through the first season DVDs in two nights! (Donna, have you seen this show? Somehow I think you would love it!) Anyway, it's about these two CalTech physicists, Sheldon and Leonard, who live in Pasadena. They are freakishly brilliant… and extremely geeky! The whole show is about their relationship with the extremely beautiful Penny who lives across the hall in their apartment building. Sheldon has absolutely no social skills… which is only emphasized by the contrast of the completely normal character of Penny. Anyway, it’s hysterical. If you haven't seen it, you need to watch it!


More on miscommunication and lack of communication later!

Freewriting topic for June 8, 2011

The freewriting topic for today is Failure to Communicate.

Failure to Communicate . . . or write on topic

"What we have here is a failure to communicate." What movie is that from? I'm fairly certain that it's a military movie. Is it Apocalypse Now? Nope, way off base. It's from Cool Hand Luke.

Cool Hand Luke. Never seen the movie, but I know it stars Paul Newman. Paul Newman. Wasn't he like the Brad Pitt way back when? Yet he managed to have a Hollywood marriage to Joanne Woodward for like fifty years. (They clearly didn't have any communication problems.) And don't forget about Newman's Own. From salad dressing that you get with your McDonald's salads (man, it's been a while since I've had one of those) to dog treats even organic faux Oreos, his foundation has been giving back to communities.

This morning I was listening to the radio about an initiative to build wells in Africa. Someone recently, when I proposed doing a fundraiser for Darfur, told me that s/he did not like to support charities outside of the United States. While I understand this thinking, I personally can't help but be concerned about other people in other countries that lack basic needs like running water. What if the situation was reversed? Maybe this person should go a day without running water. Maybe his/her perspective would change?

Am I saying that we should not be concerned about the people in our own country? No, but I also have to admit that sometimes we are to blame for our current situations. No one is telling you that you have to buy a car every three years. I drool everytime I see the new 4Runners. But since I do not know where I will be in the next five years (in the north where I won't need a car? married? with children?), it really does not make sense for me to purchase a new truck valued at $30,000+. Just because you can get financed for a house up to $500,000 doesn't mean you have to go that high. It's almost laughable the number of houses that keep popping up for sale in my neighborhood. (By the way, I proudly live with my mom. It's been that way since I moved home in 2005 when my father was still alive.)

Do I waste money? Certainly. I am not the poster child for saving money. I have my addictions (scarves, designer jeans, purses), but I also love a good deal. Thank goodness for online shopping. Many a dollar has been saved by doing a little leg, finger work.

Mental note to self: go online today and make donation. Well Done.

I love freaks!

People who know me well know that freak is a pet name for my husband, but also I like people who are a little bit different. Not different in the sense of psychopaths who have no empathy with others, but different in some way. Perhaps they don't worry so much about the way they appear to others, or perhaps they sport interesting tattoos or piercings. Perhaps they challenge authority in interesting ways. Perhaps they have three first names or always surprise me by their words. Whatever . . . I like people who break normalcy . . . until they annoy me.

Random note: Shane, the fruit is good today. Thanks for bringing it. And Sarah, thanks for bringing vegetables from your garden. That's a sweet gesture, and it helps community form.

Yep, I'm jumping all over the place. Apparently, I'm a freak when it comes to coherence today. There's no structure to my comments, just the random nerve synapses firing and jumping incoherently from one thought to the other.

I'm sitting outside the classroom with my laptop on a bench, using the bench as a table. Well, not anymore. My back was hurting, so I moved to the bench itself so that I could lean against the table. That feels better, but now my computer wants to slip off my lap.

I'm in the hallway because Rebecca banished me. She has assumed Wes's role today of keeping me away from bad influences for the Muppets. The room still smells like paint, so I'm out in the hallway. Nancy wouldn't let me clean the bathroom Sunday, which would have only involved spraying Windex and wiping down surfaces. Suddenly, I've become the protected one. It's a weird feeling, one I'm not used to. It makes me feel a bit freakish.

Actually, the whole pregnancy has made me feel freakish. I struggle to get comfortable at night and turn probably ten times during the night, adjusting pillows, pushing Wes onto his stomach, pulling covers around me and tossing them off. Wes is not a big fan of sleeping with a pregnant women, and who can blame him? I'm not a big fan of being pregnant at night.

My stomach keeps growing, which means the Muppets are growing, and I'm thankful for that. But suddenly this weekend, the stomach really expanded. Seriously expanded--as in I wasn't sure I'd be able to wear home the non-maternity capris I packed, but I could. And today I still have on non-maternity pants, but they're tight. This week I bet I'll be moving to maternity pants. I already have on a maternity shirt, and I wore maternity shorts this weekend (very comfortable).

This week I went from not liking food and not being able to eat chocolate to being able to eat two to three servings of any meal. That's not good. I mean, it's good that I've only started gaining weight this week, but it's bad that I may make up for the first nineteen weeks of not eating within a week or so. I've got to get that under control.

There's so much that's different about me in pregnancy. I can get angry in a second, but I'm usually slow to anger and definitely slow to respond. I am out of breath after walking up the stairs in the College of Education. How annoying. It's just one flight of stairs. It is as if I've aged twenty years in twenty weeks. Ugh!

Yep, I've definitely become a freak during pregnancy, but not the cool kind of freak that I like. Instead, I'm the kind of freak who never knows what her body will do next. Yikes. I'm starting to run out of battery power, so I'll stop now, but I'd love to hear from some other current and previous fellows.

Freewtg. topic for 6-7-10

Today's freewriting topic is Freaks and Geeks.

Famous last words

When someone says, "Hey, y'all, watch this," I always perk up. After all, who knows? I may be about to see someone's life end in a particularly gruesome way. Actually, though, I more interested in the person's psychology. What makes a guy think it might be fun to be smashed in his private parts with a baseball bat while three other guys watch, laugh, and take their turn? Seriously! I guess I'm missing the hurt-me gene. Instead, I have the I-will-double-your-pain-if-you-hurt-me gene. I struggle with the turn-the-other-cheek philosophy. Instead, I think I get to slap both of your cheeks if you slap mine--and maybe add a well-placed punch to the stomach. Yeah, I guess I practice escalation. It's a good thing I'm not a Hatfield or McCoy. That feud would NEVER have ended.

Still, "Hey, y'all, watch this" grabs my attention. At the same time, though, it makes me feel gross, a little white trashish, as if I should be more cultured, more interested in watching CNN and trying to understand the health care debate instead of watching some guy try to jump from the top of this house onto the trampoline and then into the pool, ignoring the six-foot fence around the pool with decorative spikes on top, convinced that he'll clear those spikes easily. And sometimes he does. Sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he slips off the roof and lands in the flower beds beneath, perhaps his fall broken by a magnolia tree with prickly leaves. Sometimes he misses the trampoline entirely or perhaps hits the edge, landing with one leg on either side and all the pain that accompanies that scenario. Sometimes the trampoline part works okay, only to end up with a face smashed against the side of the fence instead of his body clearing it. Either way, what prompted the whole inquiry in the first place, the thought that maybe he should try this?

But there I am, watching and wondering about his intellect and common sense. A friend of mine says she watches The Maury Povich Show or The Jerry Springer Show because it makes her feel better about herself. Maybe that's why I watch stunt shows and stupid people in general. I don't know. I hope not. Whatever the reason is, I need to stop.

Freewriting topic for June 3, 2010

The topic for today is "Hey, y'all, watch this!" Famous last words . . .

This year's Fellows aren't using the blog, but perhaps some past Fellows want to reconnect this year through the blog. Happy writing!