Sometimes I find that my sense of humor is really twisted. I was reading my dear friend JF's blog and she had a link to euphemisms for menstruation. Of course I clicked on, who can resist a link to something called a "Menstruationary".
These euphemisms are making me laugh really hard. I love euphemisms. I think it is hilarious the number of ways we, as human beings, will come up with to say things that make us uncomfortable. Instead of saying sex or penis or menstruation, we will come up with eight million ways to say these things that are more awkward, often offensive and mostly gross.
Still...my twisted sense of humor finds them hilarious.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
JEM!
Oh my goodness. There are days when I feel very old talking to students. Today I mentioned Jem and the Holograms and no one knew what I was talking about. One of my students was telling me about the fact that she wakes up in the morning and thinks, "today I'll be Biker Barbie." Her statement made me think of Jem and a song she used to sing called "Mood I'm In".
I used to own Jem's music on tape and would listen to them all the time. I adored Jem. I liked her computer Synergy. I liked that Jem's boyfriend Rio had purple hair. I liked the rival band "The Misfits".
Jem was such a good show. When it comes to cartoons, I will admit that I have quite a nostalgia for the days of yore
ThunderCats
He-Man
The Snorks
OMG! I just thought of the Wuzzles. I adored the Wuzzles...It was an obscure and random show but I loved it and remember it fondly
holy crap! This just made me think of Zoobilee Zoo.
And of course, there was the classic Kids Incorporated...Martika, Fergie...that girl from that girl group "Wild orchids" or was it "Wild Horses" hmm...All from Kids Incorporated. Jennfer love Hewitt was on the show briefly..
Oh goodness..I could do this forever. I clearly digressed from cartoons...Such good memories from my younger years.
I used to own Jem's music on tape and would listen to them all the time. I adored Jem. I liked her computer Synergy. I liked that Jem's boyfriend Rio had purple hair. I liked the rival band "The Misfits".
Jem was such a good show. When it comes to cartoons, I will admit that I have quite a nostalgia for the days of yore
ThunderCats
He-Man
The Snorks
OMG! I just thought of the Wuzzles. I adored the Wuzzles...It was an obscure and random show but I loved it and remember it fondly
holy crap! This just made me think of Zoobilee Zoo.
And of course, there was the classic Kids Incorporated...Martika, Fergie...that girl from that girl group "Wild orchids" or was it "Wild Horses" hmm...All from Kids Incorporated. Jennfer love Hewitt was on the show briefly..
Oh goodness..I could do this forever. I clearly digressed from cartoons...Such good memories from my younger years.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
School pictures
What is it about school pictures that just makes us awkward looking?
I adore my niece. I think she is beautiful. I am curious where her upper lip went in this picture. My mother has a folder of school pictures that are a chronology of haircuts and clothing styles. They show my years of wearing hyper-color shirts, giant door-knocker earrings and lace bows in my hair. Then there is the year of the afro-mullet. Yes...I had a haircut worse than a regular mullet - an afro-mullet. Just awful awkward smiles and uncomfortable eye twitches. Clothes that were too itchy or too "cool".
School pictures are the a history of us trying to look our best and failing miserably.
And here is to my niece. I love you very much.
I adore my niece. I think she is beautiful. I am curious where her upper lip went in this picture. My mother has a folder of school pictures that are a chronology of haircuts and clothing styles. They show my years of wearing hyper-color shirts, giant door-knocker earrings and lace bows in my hair. Then there is the year of the afro-mullet. Yes...I had a haircut worse than a regular mullet - an afro-mullet. Just awful awkward smiles and uncomfortable eye twitches. Clothes that were too itchy or too "cool".
School pictures are the a history of us trying to look our best and failing miserably.
And here is to my niece. I love you very much.
Monday, November 8, 2010
When I Grow Up...
Ages ago when I lived in New York and worked in Rockefeller Plaza there was a "Rock the Vote" event in the plaza. During that event there was an incredible spoken word session that included a poet named Sekou (tha misfit). He performed a poem called "When I Grow Up" that has stuck with me for over 5 years. When I first heard the poem, it struck a chord with me immediately. In the last few months it has come back to mind again and again. The poem is about putting all of your passion, desire, fire, care, and self into whatever it is you are doing. It is about working from the heart and living from the heart. I knew it was something I aspired to years ago and continues to be so...
When I Grow Up – by Sekou (tha misfit)
Ask me now mommy.
Am I too late?
Ask me now what I want to do for a living.
Am I too late? Cause I think I finally figured it out
I don’t want to do for a living
I want to be for a living
I want to be life.
I want to make things grow, and move, and breath, and reproduce, and respond.
I just want to make things respond and react and rejoice and relax and relate and release and receive
as soon as I recite.
When I grow up,
I don’t want to be like those other kids mommy who want to be doctors and ballers and astronaughts.
I want to be passion, and heat and energy.
When I grow up,
I don’t want to be a fireman mommy, let me be the fire
The explosion behind the soul’s big bang theory that leaves in it’s place . . . desire
That burning within that gives life to the word “aspire”
Let me warm the cold souls of the despairing and heartless
Let me light the paths of those wandering in darkness
And provide children with their first definition of “hot”
And when the artists of the world have become so infatuated with ice that the whole world freezes over,
Let me be the poet that melts the ice-caps, drowns the planet, and starts this world over -
2 poets at a time like Noah. . .
When I grow up
I don’t want to be an astronaut mommy, I want to be the space that he explores -
Not the doctor mommy, let me be the cure.
The prescription for a better life . . .
the way through which the sick and the shut-in can find hope, health, happiness, and healing.
I want to be the pill of which they take two, and the call that is placed that next morning.
I want to be the white blood cell that strengthens the immune system,
the clot that stops the bleeding,
the antidote that counters the poison;
I want to speak antibiotic poetry that defeats your life’s viruses,
but only if you take my words in 3 times a day until the entire bottle is gone;
I want to be the perspective of the world through the eyes of an autistic child who is diagnosed with a sickness when in fact she merely sees the world with a clarity that the rest of us could only dream of having. . .
When I grow up
I don’t want to be a preacher mommy, I want to be the word
Not the artist mommy, I want to be the art
Not the painter, let me be the canvas
Not the choreographer, let me be the dances
Not the poet, let me be the stanzas
When I grow up
I don’t want to be a singer mommy, I want to be the sound!
The song you sing the way you sing it when you think aint nobody else around
When I grow up,
I don’t want to be a lawyer mommy I want to be justice.
Not the philosopher, but the philosophy that the brilliant minds try to follow,
Or the brilliance in those minds,
Or even the elusive concepts that they can’t quite figure out like
hope, purpose, faith . . . and time.
I wanna be time mommy!
So that the world will go to sleep every night feeling like they never got enough of me.
And will panic when they feel me slipping away.
Time! So that I will never feel this depression I feel now for being abandoned by it
Time! So that I will never again be before myself, never be out of myself,
Never be too late, never be too early,
So that for once in this life of unfulfilled dreams that have left my cheeks streaked from salt water erosion and my mouth pertpetually coated with the bitter aftertaste of disappointment,
for once I can be right on me!
When I grow up,
I want to be the antonym of void,
the antithesis of without,
the contradiction of silence,
the inverse of absence,
the reverse of regression,
the antilogy to emptiness,
the illumination of shadows,
the opposite of darkness . . .
I wanna be the opposite of darkness when I grow up mommy!
So that when the greatest poet in existence
recites the first line
of the greatest poem ever written
“let there be light”
. . . then I can begin.
When I Grow Up – by Sekou (tha misfit)
Ask me now mommy.
Am I too late?
Ask me now what I want to do for a living.
Am I too late? Cause I think I finally figured it out
I don’t want to do for a living
I want to be for a living
I want to be life.
I want to make things grow, and move, and breath, and reproduce, and respond.
I just want to make things respond and react and rejoice and relax and relate and release and receive
as soon as I recite.
When I grow up,
I don’t want to be like those other kids mommy who want to be doctors and ballers and astronaughts.
I want to be passion, and heat and energy.
When I grow up,
I don’t want to be a fireman mommy, let me be the fire
The explosion behind the soul’s big bang theory that leaves in it’s place . . . desire
That burning within that gives life to the word “aspire”
Let me warm the cold souls of the despairing and heartless
Let me light the paths of those wandering in darkness
And provide children with their first definition of “hot”
And when the artists of the world have become so infatuated with ice that the whole world freezes over,
Let me be the poet that melts the ice-caps, drowns the planet, and starts this world over -
2 poets at a time like Noah. . .
When I grow up
I don’t want to be an astronaut mommy, I want to be the space that he explores -
Not the doctor mommy, let me be the cure.
The prescription for a better life . . .
the way through which the sick and the shut-in can find hope, health, happiness, and healing.
I want to be the pill of which they take two, and the call that is placed that next morning.
I want to be the white blood cell that strengthens the immune system,
the clot that stops the bleeding,
the antidote that counters the poison;
I want to speak antibiotic poetry that defeats your life’s viruses,
but only if you take my words in 3 times a day until the entire bottle is gone;
I want to be the perspective of the world through the eyes of an autistic child who is diagnosed with a sickness when in fact she merely sees the world with a clarity that the rest of us could only dream of having. . .
When I grow up
I don’t want to be a preacher mommy, I want to be the word
Not the artist mommy, I want to be the art
Not the painter, let me be the canvas
Not the choreographer, let me be the dances
Not the poet, let me be the stanzas
When I grow up
I don’t want to be a singer mommy, I want to be the sound!
The song you sing the way you sing it when you think aint nobody else around
When I grow up,
I don’t want to be a lawyer mommy I want to be justice.
Not the philosopher, but the philosophy that the brilliant minds try to follow,
Or the brilliance in those minds,
Or even the elusive concepts that they can’t quite figure out like
hope, purpose, faith . . . and time.
I wanna be time mommy!
So that the world will go to sleep every night feeling like they never got enough of me.
And will panic when they feel me slipping away.
Time! So that I will never feel this depression I feel now for being abandoned by it
Time! So that I will never again be before myself, never be out of myself,
Never be too late, never be too early,
So that for once in this life of unfulfilled dreams that have left my cheeks streaked from salt water erosion and my mouth pertpetually coated with the bitter aftertaste of disappointment,
for once I can be right on me!
When I grow up,
I want to be the antonym of void,
the antithesis of without,
the contradiction of silence,
the inverse of absence,
the reverse of regression,
the antilogy to emptiness,
the illumination of shadows,
the opposite of darkness . . .
I wanna be the opposite of darkness when I grow up mommy!
So that when the greatest poet in existence
recites the first line
of the greatest poem ever written
“let there be light”
. . . then I can begin.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Healthy mind, healthy body
I have discovered that when my head is all out of whack, then everything else in my life is too. When I am sucked into a negative vortex, then I stop taking care of my house, my body, my relationships. In those moments it takes all of my energy to get basic daily life done. In those moments, I tend to focus on tasks. I focus on getting work done. What I am unable to do is focus on me...when really in those moments I should be focusing on me and then I would be better able to take care of everything else.
This blog has been vital in re-centering me. It was the first and very important step for me to start taking care of myself. I always tell my students that they can't take care of other people unless they take care of themselves. I know that I am better able to focus, to help people and to be in a frame of mind to think clearly when I am taking care of myself. I know that it is not selfish to do so and that taking care of myself is the first step to taking care of others. I know all of these things intellectually but I have always had a hard time living my life that way.
The act of writing one thing (or 5) that brought me joy in a given day has been important for me. It has allowed me to focus on my life. It has allowed me to breathe in happiness. It has helped me start taking care of myself physically - exercise, eating better, clean apartment. All of these things help me feel secure and safe in my own life and in my own presence. Every day I take a teeny tiny baby step towards being more comfortable in my own skin, in my own mind and in my own company.
I didn't think this blog would be such hard work for me. It started as a whim. A momentary idea that flitted through my head. It has turned into a journey for me. It is allowing me to share parts of myself with strangers when I usually keep most things tucked away. It is inviting myself into my own life. While I know that there are other people reading this, the main audience for this blog remains me. I write everyday for myself. (Although I am glad to have whoever is reading along for the ride)
It is helping me to love myself in a way that I haven't in a long time.
This blog has been vital in re-centering me. It was the first and very important step for me to start taking care of myself. I always tell my students that they can't take care of other people unless they take care of themselves. I know that I am better able to focus, to help people and to be in a frame of mind to think clearly when I am taking care of myself. I know that it is not selfish to do so and that taking care of myself is the first step to taking care of others. I know all of these things intellectually but I have always had a hard time living my life that way.
The act of writing one thing (or 5) that brought me joy in a given day has been important for me. It has allowed me to focus on my life. It has allowed me to breathe in happiness. It has helped me start taking care of myself physically - exercise, eating better, clean apartment. All of these things help me feel secure and safe in my own life and in my own presence. Every day I take a teeny tiny baby step towards being more comfortable in my own skin, in my own mind and in my own company.
I didn't think this blog would be such hard work for me. It started as a whim. A momentary idea that flitted through my head. It has turned into a journey for me. It is allowing me to share parts of myself with strangers when I usually keep most things tucked away. It is inviting myself into my own life. While I know that there are other people reading this, the main audience for this blog remains me. I write everyday for myself. (Although I am glad to have whoever is reading along for the ride)
It is helping me to love myself in a way that I haven't in a long time.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
November means
that I can start listening to holiday music without being mocked a lot. Until Thanksgiving, there will be holiday naysayers BUT I don't care.
I love this time of year. I love holiday music. I love Dean Martin crooning Baby, Its cold outside to Doris Day. There is nothing quite like Bing Crosby singing White Christmas. Eartha Kitt as she purrs Santa Baby. Little Michael Jackson as he catches Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. Contemporary classics like All I want for Christmas is you, Grandma Got run over by a Reindeer....And of course the always crowd favorite The Chipmunks singing Don't be Late....
I love holiday specials on television. I love christmas lights twinkling. I like the sparkles. I like the crisp air. I light that main streets across the country put up giant lit bows and wrap their lampposts with garland. I love Christmas trees and sugar cookies. I like holiday decorations and pine scents. I love Santa Claus and rudolph. I love hanging stockings.
November 1 thru January 6 make me very happy!
I love this time of year. I love holiday music. I love Dean Martin crooning Baby, Its cold outside to Doris Day. There is nothing quite like Bing Crosby singing White Christmas. Eartha Kitt as she purrs Santa Baby. Little Michael Jackson as he catches Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. Contemporary classics like All I want for Christmas is you, Grandma Got run over by a Reindeer....And of course the always crowd favorite The Chipmunks singing Don't be Late....
I love holiday specials on television. I love christmas lights twinkling. I like the sparkles. I like the crisp air. I light that main streets across the country put up giant lit bows and wrap their lampposts with garland. I love Christmas trees and sugar cookies. I like holiday decorations and pine scents. I love Santa Claus and rudolph. I love hanging stockings.
November 1 thru January 6 make me very happy!
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