In Which Amy Wants to Remember... (Myspace Blog)

Here are some things that I really want to remember about this holiday:

* Erin and her tiny baby belly. I think its a girl... I'm pretty sure.

*Outside of Marianne's house, Nikki walks up to me and leans against me and says... "Aunt Amy... you have a smell." Is it a nasty old lady smell? no. It is a good smell then? yes. Is it distinctive? yes. Will she smell it forever and identify it as my smell? yes. She says it is not the patchouly of my hair, or the lavender of my clothes... but ME. My smell. I have a smell.

*Wrapping presents with Marianne and Matt and talking. I miss talking with her... and she called me her best friend. I miss talking with her... I spilled my guts about current situations and it was nice... she was supportive... and I miss talking to her...

*Meeting Nathan and Ian for the first time... and the rest of the trip wherever we walk, Nathan reaches to hold my hand. I like Heathers' boys.

*The old rusty lawn chair hidden in the woods... and the hour I sat in it listening to the quiet and having alone time. Nice.

*Fuzzy vines mean poison ivy... and they really are fuzzy!

*Hide and Seek in the dark, but it is way too scary to play. I hide under the car and I am the first person Pat finds. That means I'm it... but I know everyone will hide in the darkest parts of the yard, so Matt offers to hunt with me. He actually does all the work, but I can pretend that I was it.

*Heart to heart with Mom... and I don't really like what she has to say, but it is valuable anyway. I'm so grateful that she cares enough to tell me things that are not so fun to hear.

*Lizzie comes to Matt and Marianne's house... and it is the first time I have seen her since she went into the military. She is not a little girl anymore.

*Sleeping on the floor... I really really miss my kids... and I'm homesick. Georgia is pretty, but I don't think it is a place that I want to live.

In Which Amy Talks about Traveling for the Holiday... (Part 1) (Myspace Blog)

So, this is part 1 of my holiday extravaganza! No... there is no part 2 yet... because part 2 hasn't happened yet. It will, starting tomorrow morning, when kids scream and throw themselves on presents... yeah.. you know how xmas morning looks.

So, the original plan was for me to leave on Yule... AFTER a circle with my coven. I was going to take laundry and other things, drop mi hija with her father, and pack at my moms' house. Circle at 7... plenty of time. Right? Right...

I don't actually make it to the circle. I don't actually make it to mi hijas fathers' house until 10... and my moms' until 11. Then laundry... 2 loads that won't dry. We are supposed to leave at 5 am... at 4 am I am dozing on the couch trying desperately to finish the laundry so I can pack, eyes red rimmed and tired... and 6 shots of Baileys Irish Cream in me. (Mom did it...I walk in and she says 'Have some!' and how the hell am I supposed to say no to that? Just because she went to bed and left me to drink them alone means nothing, I swear...) My lips were nice and numb.

Eventually laundry gets done and I shower and there is only time to rush rush rush and weren't we supposed to leave at 5? Maybe... but we ACTUALLY leave at 6:30... after I am told that 2 suitcases is too many and am forced to shove all my stuff into 1. Tight squeeze, but my nephew sits on it and we manage.

The plan is to make it to Dallas to pick up sister 3, see brother 2 and sister in law on day 1 (9 hours), then drive overnight into Georgia on day 2 (12 hours). Somehow, it doesn't seem to work that way.

Day 1 -So we leave, and it is fun, and exciting, and I am looking out the window... and by mile 250 I am wishing that I had brought my charcoals and a sketch pad (note to self: never go on a trip without your charcoals and a sketch pad!) and by mile 350 I am bored. We watch 1/2 of the movie Serenity before Amy gets sick. Like turning green sick. Pull over and puke sick. Ihatecars sick. We stop for lunch. Amy does not get to finish the movie, which upsets her, because she really really wants to. We finally get into Dallas 12 hours later. I wont detail the rest of that day, as it involved lots of laughing at Amy for being sick, and lots of Amy trying /not/ to be sick. Seeing brother and sister in law was so fun and perfect... and makes me miss them even more.

Day 2 - I drive in the early hours of the morning for a bit. Fun.. but it is dark and the road feels like it is coming out of nowhere, there is fog that falls from the sky, and the trees are dark and creepy at the side of the road. I can't think about it too hard without scaring myself. BUT - I go through 3 new states... Louisiana, and Mississippi, and Alabama. I seem to have an ongoing love affair with a restuarant called 'The Waffle House'. I see them every 2 miles or so.... the are following me in the dark. Really. Then breakfast time (not at Waffle House... they are stalking me...) and I'm done with my stint of driving.

Next Sister 3 drives.... and I get so so sick. She drives like she has to in Dallas... aggressive, quick movements that jerk us across lanes. No that this is bad... but I spend the rest of the trip asleep in a desperate attempt to avoid having to pull over to puke. I wake, she changes lanes, I turn green and promptly fall back asleep. My music is pounding in my ears to try to cover sounds of conversation that might keep me concious. Everytime I wake I groan and ask where we are... the car turns a corner, I groan again and turn green and fall back asleep. My nephew thinks this is the most amusing thing ever.

After getting lost, we make it to Georgia and the hotel by 1... (17 hours). They have a treadmill! yay! And I run a mile to make up for the fact that I have sat on my tush for the last 31 hours. A mile is all I can do... I am dragging so. I meet 1 nephew that I hadn't before, saw one that I hadn't seen since he was two, and hugged sisters that I haven't seen since mi hijo was an infant. Dinner at family's house and I am beat beat beat by 8. We get back to the hotel and I am asleep before my mom stops talking.

Wake next morning for breakfast, and go for a run with said nephew, who is 15 and thinks that all people should have the energy and stamina to run like him. I am dragging... so tired that I can't think. Plus I'm old. Which means he teases me about being slow and not keeping up. I think we managed a mile before I was stick-a-fork-in-me done. Everyone else went to go shopping... all I want is a nap. So I go to sleep... and my sisters have to go to the front desk to get a key because I do not wake up to answer the door. or the phone. or the hollering outside the window. I dont actually wake until my nephew is tickling my feet. (which I hate)

Then the afternoon with family and kids is spent playing and cooking and making candy and my baby sister gets there! and /all/ of the girls are in the same place so lets take pictures! and wrap presents and talktalktalk and hide and seek in the dark, but I am too scared to play long because it is so DARK! And there are monsters... BUT I now know what poison ivy looks like.

So, tonight Santa comes to Georgia. Amy wakes early... and part two begins.

Happy Holidays!

I miss my babies!

OK, FINE! In Which Amy Might Share a Little Bit... (Myspace Blog)

Summer - 1996. Amtgard. The Gathering of the Clans. I am hanging out with Kayrana and Spirit. Gwynna, Kayrana, and Spirit. Spirit, Gwynna, and Kayrana. We are a triad. Inseparable.
When we meet them I remember being stunned by their accents - so very British. So very sexy. Right proper gentlemen, they. Fang - and Azrael. Lovely, deliciously gorgeous slices of merry old England - here. In the woods. Alone. With us.

We coddled them. Went everywhere with them. Introduced them to everyone we knew. Taught them what a cloved orange was, without actually giving them one. Showed them who was cool and who was not. Showed them where was fun and where was not, what to drink, what NOT to drink, and where it was safe to pass out for the night. It was FUN. Fang woke from his alcoholic stupor the next morning with his contacts glued to his eyeballs from having slept in them. Azrael smiled a lot and was quiet.

The weekend passed quickly, and a friendship developed. Azrael and Gwynna - running into each other on the amt-mux, then wandering off together over IM. And the feeling snuck up - and never left.

I craved him. Running into him was a joyous delight that ground my day to a halt. Encounters were never often enough, always hours long, and full of wonderful conversation. I craved him and never asked too much. I never dug into the person behind the persona. But I never stopped craving him.

Soon enough, pictures exchanged, poems sent, packages of shortbread and other baked goods air-mailed, and letters and music cassettes and always 'I love you's when saying goodbye. And I meant it - but I didn't say that.

Conversations with his mum and sister - packages back and forth - and then nothing. Life went on. Splitting up. Marriage. Babies. Occasional emails to catch up, full of love and wishes to talk more, then fading into the distance of life. We danced around each other. Don't let him too close, Amy - love him from a distance or he might know - he might figure it out - and then you lose it all. Better to be peripheral friends. He is too valuable to lose.

Then, divorce. Big. And alone. And it is good, it is cleansing, but it hurts. Then it heals. Slowly. Time passes, and suddenly it is 6 months and he is still there, always there, has always been there and you never say anything, Amy, why? But England is so far away... and is it worth it to lose such a friend? An old and dearly valued friend?

Thoughts and conversations. We get deeper. There is a person behind the facade and god... I like the person even more! Agony... looking back and it is a slap in the face - READ the emails, Amy - years of them - and it is obvious. OBVIOUS. And I want to let that go? BUT BUT BUT...
Deep breaths. Take a chance, Amy. Take a chance. Does it hurt to move on and take a chance? So I close my eyes. I breathe in. I leap...



And find out that he has saved every conversation we have ever had.

I find out he has saved every email that we have ever sent.

Every 'I love you' - he spoke truly.


Panic - god oh my god - what do I do now?! England is so far it will never work everyone will laugh it is all online he is just a bounce back it's too soon i'm being silly what the hell am I thinking oh god oh god - and then it is 9 months of time alone... and how can 9 months be a bounce back? How can 9 months be rushing? For that matter, how can 10 years be a bounce back? How can 10 years be rushing?

And so.....

This is my Stephen,
and I am His Amy.
I have loved him for
10 years - and he
has loved me back.

And the rest is just details.

The End

In Which Amy Reveals her Secret Holiday Plans... (shh...) (Myspace Blog)

So, what is Amy doing for the holidays?

Well...

NO rainbow vomit. (otherwise known as Xmas lights)
NO fake trees
NO real trees
NO ornaments
NO presents
NO Santa
NO Xmas cards
NO cookies
Well.. ok... some cookies. But NO sparkles on them
NO silly hats with bells and fur
NO candy canes
NO presents

NO kids.

Kinda sad, you'd think.... but mi hija and I decided that we were both ok with the long list of no's... and there are trees and lights and yaddayadda elsewhere. Nice to have an xmas not based on the materialism of the season. Nice to be free to relax rather than getting caught in the hubub of the holiday.

The part that makes me a bit sad is the no kids part... My youngling to his other moms and my oldling to her dads. They will have fun... it will be good for them. Me, on the other hand... but there are other holidays.

Actually, I am doing something for the holiday. I am packing me and my stuff into a van with my mom, 2 of my sisters, and my nephew and we are driving. First to Dallas, to pick up a third sister and see my brother and his almost-so-close-to-time wife and kiss 3 year olds and rub slightly bulging baby bellies. Then to Georgia, to spend a wonderful few days with yet another sister, her husband, and their family. I really am excited, even though the trip will be grueling. I have never been to Georgia. I hope it snows. Not that I would know what it was if it did... (This is snow?! WOW! It is so wet... and cold! My fingers are numb! I can't feel my toes! This sucks! Lets go inside and drink hot cocoa!)

Then back home to vegetate and recover from a horrid semester. But only 2 more before blocks... I am almost done... I think I am starting to taste it.

Or is that sand? It has been really windy....

In Which Amy Finds her Grades... (Myspace Blog)

It's the end of the semester... and that means its grade time.

I was pretty sure I could guess what I was going to get... A+ in Advanced Comp., B in Chemistry, B in Ed. Psych, and A in Perceptual Motor Development.

BUT... I saw them this morning. Yes. I did. Yes. I'm happy. Yes. I rock.

Here they are... *drumroll please...*

English 311 - Advanced Composition - A+
C EP 210 - Educational Psychology - A
P EP 218 - Perceptual Motor Development - A
Chem 111 - (only the hardest class I have ever taken ever) - B

Yay me! Better than I expected.

In other school related news... I had a stressful week... of being jacked around. The Education Department is re-doing the Early Childhood Degree plan. I knew this. I was fine. Until Thursday, when I went in to visit my advisor, Deborah, to turn in some drop/add slips for 2 classes, that is. Luckily, Deborah likes me and looks out for me.

Her: "Um.... Amy...."

Me: "Hey! How are you!"

Her: "Um... Amy..."

Me: "You don't look too happy..."

Her: "Um... Amy..."

Yeah. Anyway, it turns out that I was going to be forced into the new degree plan. And she could not tell me what that would do to my graduation date. beep! So I waited while she did some figuring. The next day she called me, to tell me that it was going to add 2 semesters onto my graduation date. 2 semesters! No... nonono. I refuse to add another YEAR onto this beep bachelors degree when it is only a means to get me into a Master's programme!

I told her this. And she listened to me cry and whine, and said, "Let me see what I can do. I'll get back to you."

So Monday comes. And she calls.

Her: "Um... Amy..."

Me: (oh, beep... this is how the whole conversation started last time...)

Her: "Can you come in? Right now?"

Me: (panic) "Um... ok."

So I did. And here is what she found.

*Change my degree to Elementary Education.
*Graduate at the originally planned date.
*Do not take any summer classes for the rest of my bachelors programme.
*Have a lighter courseload than I did before.
*Be able to fit classes in that will allow me to graduate with an honours thesis.
*Take Aurthurian Legend as a graduation requirement.
*Figure out that degree actually fits better with my planned Master's Degree and Doctorate.
*Smile and Be Happy.

I so like Deborah... maybe I should make her brownies.

In Which Amy Says READ THIS... (Myspace Blog)

This is something that everyone one of you should read.

I didn't write it... Kristin did. But just pretend that I have had time right now to write it - the sentiment is pretty much what I would hope that I would say.

Except that I can't say I have never been married.

Finals is next week... 10 more days before I have time to do something besides study!

Ok - here it is... READ IT!!!

http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=59974752&blogID=200424701&indicate=1

In Which Amy Is Thankful... (Myspace Blog)

I have so much to be grateful for.

And while I do not agree with the historical reasoning behind this day, (namely the repression of the Native American people by the White colonists in order to promote the colonial way of life over that of the Native peoples) it is a good opportunity for me to take the time to be concious about those things in my life that make me rich.

My life is beautiful. I am so grateful to be alive right now, today, in this moment... and I am as grateful for all the moments that I have passed through as I am for all the moments that I have left in my life. I want to remember to live them consciously - treading lightly upon the Earth and making the world a more concious place for the people, plants, and animals on it.

I am grateful for my children and my family - both the ones I birthed and didn't, the ones I chose and that chose me, the ones I see and I don't, and the ones who are here now and the ones who have passed. I love my family with every fiber of my being - and I am who I am because of them. No matter the situation, no matter how difficult things are, I want to stay aware of how much I love them, and how little I would want to trade them for someone else.

I love my career, my choice in life paths. The idea of critical thought, conciousness, and its incorporation into teaching and the social issues of our times are fundamentally exciting to me - and I am blessed to have the opportunity to pursue them in my schooling and career.

Even having the opportunity for school is a blessing - so many never have it, so many are doomed by their colour, their race, their class status, and sometimes even by their own choice to live lives that never look outside of their very narrow sight. I am thankful for the opportunity to look past my own opinions, and the desire to do so.

I am grateful for my house, my animals, my materialistic things. While they are simply materials, and I could exist without them, I am still grateful for their presence.

I am grateful for the people who love me, both near and far. I am grateful for new beginnings, for possibilities that I never expected. I am grateful for those who seek to find out who I am - for friends, loves, and colleagues that understand me and push me to become more of the person that I think that I might become. I am thankful for my health, my age, my youth, my experience, my wisdom (or lack thereof). I am grateful for mistakes that I made and continue to make.

I am grateful for games and meditation and running shoes and June Bugs. (even though I hate them so) I am grateful for the moon and evolution and the statues on Easter Island. I am grateful for the sharks and tape worms and strawberries and sweet cream. I am grateful for always having a home to go back to. I am grateful for warm blankets on cold nights, small people that climb in bed and stick their cold feet between my knees, teenage angst, hot words that light fires in my soul.

I am so so very grateful for every moment of my life - all the ups and downs and the roller coaster to get between them. I want so much to be an agent for conciousness in the world around me... and I am so grateful for my desire to do so and the chance.

I am grateful for everyone of you that reads this... and I hope that it makes you take a moment to think on and stay concious of those things that you are grateful for in your life, also.

In Which Amy is Sick... (Myspace Blog)

Being sick sucks.

Lying in bed feeling miserable (or in this case, in the bathroom feeling miserable), nothing to do but remember how awful you feel...thinking about all the things that you should be doing but instead you are stuck too sick to manage to move.

Being sick sucks.

Luckily, this semester has been mild as far as my encounters with being sick. A cold earlier in the semester, this stomach bug (though NASTY) only lasting 2 days. That's not at all bad compared to the semester that I spent the whole time sick, never actually getting any better until January.

But that doesn't make being sick any less sucky.

Mi hija was kind enough to pass this one on to me... and now she has it again. But I've decided that I have done my time, I won't end up with it for another round... I had it so bad that I've built up immunities, baby! Yeah!

Besides, it is a holiday week. I can't get sick... I want to go home and spend time with my family... Anna is cooking. :) Jimmy and Erin are coming home. Maybe Bethy too.

Being sick would suck.

In Which Amy Eats... (Myspace Blog)

Food... I love food. Yummy crunchy food, soft food, sour food, liquid food... I really really love food.

But there are a few foods that are the super-est yummiest most best-est foods ever.

Mexican food, for example. Crunchy chip in spicy salsa with creamy sour cream and guacamole... menudo con limon with tons of cebolla, flautas filled with chicken so yummy that your mouth waters... enchiladas smothered in green chile grown in hatch, with an egg on top... Oh mexican food is so good. I love mexican food.

And chinese food - oh, yum yum yum - lo mein noodles eaten with chop sticks... kung pao shrimp with crunchy peanuts in its delightful spicy sauce... rice rice rice - sticky steamed rice that is like heaven, and fried rice with the peas and carrots and randome chunks of egg... fortune cookies that HAVE to be read with 'between the sheets' following, and those super sticky super sweet super yummy candies that you can eat the paper on... So So yummy.

I am telling you all this not because I am hungry. Actually, my tumbly is not rumbly at all... but full of frijoles, spanish rice, and horchata. (Ooo... horchata - arroz con leche in a glass with sprinkles of cinnamon... yum) I think I just needed to take a moment to talk about food.

There are so many yummy types of food, that I'm not sure that I have a favourite. All food is my favourite. All food, that is, except for hot dogs and bologna. According to Amy's world dictionary, hot dogs and bologna are not food. They are pig lips and cockroach legs. Ew. Not for me. I admit to having a prejudice against them. I am racist against all classes of food that involve pig lips and cockroaches. And I don't really like pork, either, but I don't hate it with the passion that I reserve for hot dogs and bologna.

There are so many types of food in the world to try... curry, for example. I have never had curry. Or swedish food. Or hugarian food. Or iranian food. Maybe I should travel around the world simply to try all the different kinds of food...

But wait. If I did that, I would have to try things like monkey brains and maggots and rocky mountain oysters. Hmm... no. Never mind. I don't want to eat those.

In Which Amy has a Productive Day... (Myspace Blog)

Sometimes you have one of those days that amazes you.

Today was one of those days for me. I got so much done... 2 papers, work on a final for another class, stuff around the house, babysitting for a friend.

It is only 7:40 and all I have left to do for the night is post this blog and run.

Ah... running... I have been into that lately.

So, yay for me and my 30 second blog... and my running shoes. They are calling my name.

In Which Amy Knows Where She's Going... (Myspace Blog)

There are no Masters Degree programs specifically in the field of Critical Pedagogy and Social Justice.

I knew this, had resigned myself to it. I was not happy, but had accustomed myself to the idea that I would get my Masters Degree is some random thing, with as much emphasis on Critical Pedagogy as I possibly could manage at whatever school I will attend. Yet another 2 years of feeling like I had wasted time jumping through hoops. Then a quick jump into a Doctoral program in order to get what I want, which is a degree in Critical Pedagogy and Social Justice. Another 3 to 4 years... forever and ever away.

Until yesterday.

Browsing, yet again, looking at many different programs in many different places. I must have done something that I had not done before... because I found the St. Martins College Masters Program of Critical Pedagogy and Social Justice. Did you do a double-take? I did. Yes, I did read that right... A Master's Program in exactly what I want it to be in. A dream. A miracle.

And in Lancaster, Lancashire, United Kingdom.

I have mixed feelings... I am excited. I knew I wanted to do some study in the UK. I am scared. Will I be able to afford it? I am optimistic. I will still qualify for financial aid... and they will pay it if I am in the UK.

I am going to do it. It is not any more expensive than if I were to attend an out of state university here in the US. Plus, a Master's Degree takes 1 year in the UK. 1 very intense year, I'm sure... but 1 year none the less. Versus at least 2 here. The biggest difference is in the realm of expectations. Here a Master's Degree is bestowed based upon a Questioning Board. There you are required to write a dissertation. Good thing I like writing, especially in that field.

The big picture shows that, by the time my daughter graduates from high school, I will have a Master's Degree, in a field that I love. Then I can decide what I want to do about the Doctorate. I think I might be excited. And that would be an understatement.

In Which Amy Talks of Mother... (Myspace Blog)

My mother means well.

She and her husband (my stepfather) have a washer and dryer for me. They have had it for a while. It is sitting in their back yard, I suppose, since they are not using them anymore.

She has said they will bring them up for a month now. In the beginning, I was excited. I have lived in Las Cruces since 1995, and the only time my mother has ever come over was once when she picked up my sick sister, then came to pick up mi hija for a trip to her father's. She has never come to visit me.

Please do not misunderstand, I am not upset that I have to wait for the washer and dryer. When the time comes, it will happen. But I find it interesting that I am told that the road travels two ways... I may not travel it often, but I do travel it.

The truth is that I do not understand my mother. I am not here to bitch about her, and I'm not full of anger or angst. I just don't understand her. She is a Martian. She speaks a different language. Or, to be fair, maybe I'm the alien...

Yeah! I'M an alien! From the Pluto formerly known as a planet. And I have come to earth to take over the world. But don't worry, I am not a tyrant, or even a dictator. I am a benevolent ruler. Yeah. With a big crown. And jewels... shiny jewels that grab the light and throw it back at you.

That's Martian Amy to you...

In Which Amy Sees the Light... (Myspace Blog)

Ah! (That was a long sigh of relief, in case you were wondering...)

Chemistry test #3 is done. I don't actually think I did too shabbily, considering how difficult I find the class, and by extension, how much I dislike it. I made out with a B, I believe.

Plus, all these group projects are almost done also... One paper tomorrow, one presentation Saturday, the last presentation next Thursday.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. There is a forthcoming end to this semester. Huzzah.

Following presentations, all I'll have to do is 1 take home final in one class (The Saturday one, which always seems to cramp my style), 1 test and the final in another class, more revisions and rewriting in English, and the end of classes and final in chemistry. While it sounds like a lot when I list it, it certainly doesn't feel like a lot.

I have to hang onto the fact that I am, really, almost done. With the semester, and with my Bachelors degree, too. I often think that I am never going to finish... that there is so much else I would rather be doing, that I would be more productive and a better parent were I to concentrate on things besides school. I must not give into such bullshit! I have to finish this degree, then into the Master's program, where maybe I'll feel like I am making a difference. Or, I hope, anyway.

So this is my affirmation for the day... I am almost done with the semester... I just have to finish and then I can take a break before I do it all over again. It feels like I'm sprinting... but the finish line is so close... I just have to not quit.

Breathe, Amy, breathe...

In Which Amy Corrupts Technology... (Myspace Blog)

I am a Corrupter of Technology. Or at least that is what Jimmy says.

I was sitting at home, minding my own business, being morose and thinking about crying, when he called. To 'talk'.

'Talk'ing, in this case, involved me opening my mouth and spilling all my miseries out onto him... and him nodding and hmmming and occasionally inserting listening noises any place he could get a word in edgewise.

According to my brother, in the end, the problem is that I am an egocentric decision maker. Along with most of the other people in the world. I am also not good at using technology appropriately (i.e. using it the way he would like me too...) and am therefore (with exasperated sigh included) a CORRUPTER of TECHNOLOGY. Believe it or not, this actually made me feel better, to have him tell me this. There is the reason I cannot bear to be a slave to my stupid cell phone! I am a corrupter. It is not because I have a bad memory and forget to take it off vibrate after class, or just plain forget to take it with me. Nope, I am a corrupter. That is my problem.

Lucky for me, he had a solution for it too... "Little sis, you just need to TAKE CONTROL."

Take control... this makes me laugh. Me, who cannot ever decide what restaurant she wants to eat at, needs to take control. I AM taking control - of feeling morose and teary eyed.

This is, of course, not as deep as our conversation went... and my telling him of my decision not to post all the personal stuff lead him to reiterate that I was a corrupter... what is the point of having a blog if I am not going to post personal things? And while I see his point, I still don't think I wanna.

So, in the end, he tells me that he is glad we could have this chat, and how happy he is that I am now laughing and joking with him. He says, "And hey, I win!" which in Jim-speak means "I am so glad that you are feeling better and that I could help and I love you even if you do corrupt technology every chance you get."

I love my brother... who else knew to call me?

In Which Amy Reads About God... (Myspace Blog)

The package I mailed finally arrived, so I can talk about the most wondrous present I have ever sent to the UK - a book called "The God Delusion" by Richard Dawkins. (See my blog 10-8-06 to find it on my reading list...) I bought it as a birthday present for my very dear friend who lives in the UK (Stephen), and expected to send it on its way and be done with it. However, it is an author he recommended to me, and my curiosity got the better of me. I opened it. And everyone knows, if I open a book, I have to read the book.

I started thinking, "I'll just read a few pages, then I'll put it down and mail it to him." Pretty soon it was, "I just won't think about how late this gift is going to be... he doesn't even know it is not on the way yet." Finally I broke down and told him, "I have to read it. Every word." That is what I did. When I finished it the first time, I decided that I had to read it again; possibly even twice more. I couldn't do that with his gift... it is only fair to make someone wait so long, but no longer. So I packed his book up and shipped it off, and bought my own copy.

Now I get to read and read and write in the margins. I am taking notes and making comments and circling passages. And Kristin, Jake, Jimmy, and I are all reading it out loud together. By the time I'm done I will have read it three times. Once out loud and twice to myself. Maybe then I'll be able to have a deep enough understanding of the concepts to incorporate them into my beliefs.

You see, this is a book that speaks against a supernatural deity. And he presents a very convincing argument... so what do I believe? Some of it fits easily - I already do not believe in creation and I do not believe that we are moral or good because we are watched by god... I do not even believe that good morals or values are necessarily those promoted by the Christian faith. But there is so much more to his argument than that.

For example, he speaks against the concept of a "Christian child". Or a "Muslim child" or a "Jewish child" on the basis that these children are not yet old enough to decide on their own. I must look at my own experience - the way I have and am raising my children in particular. I do not believe I have forced my beliefs on them... I have flat out told my daughter that she is not yet old enough to choose a path, and that she must look at many paths before she can choose one that is right for her. I have even told her that she is not Wiccan until she is old enough to choose to be, if the time comes that she does choose.

I am looking forward to re-evaluating my own belief system... and slightly nervous. What if I am unable to change my mind? Or am unable to merge this information into what I believe? I am, right now, choosing to look more broadly, come what may. I am choosing to look logically. I am choosing to not hold on to an ideology that is not supported. And it is going to be an interesting trip.

You all should read it too... and then lets talk. I'd love to have more people to discuss this with.

In Which Amy.... well, just read it already. (Myspace Blog)

This is my favourite holiday ever. Ever ever ever. Samhain - with crisp apples waiting in big tubs of water to be caught with the teeth, lit candles on the alter flickering in the dark for those that have passed, for us to remember, costumes and candy, jack o'lanterns carved into scarey faces and lit throughout the night to guide our dead to visit us, and the seeds salted, roasted, and dipped into the sweetest honey in the world. Ouija boards, circles, bonfires, tarot readings, the dumb feast... I love it all. This Samhain is different for me. It is my first in many years in which I am choosing not to have large crowds or a huge gathering of people come to watch the witch in action. I will not be reading tarot until 3 am for everybody under the moon. I will not be casting circles of salt 'round the bonfire and drawing open the West to welcome in the dead. I will not be dancing around a cauldron, stirring the witches brew that fogs the ground from the secret stash of dry ice which I dropped in. I will spend my Samhain alone. My children off, for the first time in years, at "halloween" parties and trick or treating with peers. For them, this is a rare treat. They never get to be normal... this is Samhain. But this year, even they must go. I will be in the dark of my room, incense thick in the air, chanting in commune with the world that is thin with the veil between worlds. I will cast off the old - this is a moment of truth, of moving on. I will shrug off the past. It will be closure. Closure at the time of new beginnings, the start of a new turning of the wheel of the year. When I am done, I will be cleansed. I will be empty of the past and able to let go of it. I will be looking foward, into the future. And there will be a new candle on the alter, for this year only. It will be a rememberance of dead relationships. This year, when the veil is the thinnest, I send that path into the world of the dead, and I will not be haunted by it anymore. So mote it be.

In Which Amy Really IS a Hippie... (Myspace Blog)

I hate quizzes. But this one, I just had to do. I brazenly stole it from Paula's myspace... and I just knew I was a hippie. And a thoughtful, intellectual one to boot! Yay me! And I promise, I won't get carried away with these silly quizzes... just this one. Just to confirm that I really AM a hippie.

You scored as One Intellectual Individual. You're a thinker. You see things from a very different prospective than the rest of the world, and probably find release and self-expression in music, painting, scalpting, or any other form of art. People see you as a deep person, full of knowledge that they don't understand. People are attracted to that, but there's a good chance you don't care.

One Intelectual Individual		100%
Earth-Child		88%
Original Hippie		63%
New Age Hippie		50%
Pothead		25%
Not a Hippie		13%

In Which Amy Follows Up on Civilization... (Myspace Blog)

You people suck. My very first post to this silly blog (oh, baby, don't worry - mama still loves you...) was about civilization. Had you been me, this is what you would have heard as you wrote it... goodAmy: Wow, this is so exciting! I'm going to write my thoughts and it is going to start a movement of critical discussion about interesting and deep concepts that will allow me to further my own ideas! badAmy: Shut up, you crazy beep! Noone wants to read this crap. Nobody cares! goodAmy: Oh, no, you are wrong... this is a call to unity! We will meet in solidarity and build community together, gleaning knowledge from one another and sharing ideas to incite change in ourselves! badAmy: Yea, right. Just keep fooling yourself. Nobody really gives a beep, you stupid crazy beep! goodAmy: You don't understand! We will use our conversations as a jumping off point towards creating change in ourselves and in our existances! We will look deeply into the meaning and reasoning behind our thoughts! It will be magical! badAmy: Whatever. Just don't come crying to me when nobody responds to your crazy rantings. Cuz that's all it is - crazy. I don't even want to listen - the only reason that I do is because I CAN'T GET AWAY FROM THE CRAZY THAT I HAVE TO SHARE A BRAIN WITH!! Needless to say, I don't particularly like badAmy, therefore it pains me to say that she was right. Noone cares (except me) about what civilization means. Or, if they do care, noone told me. So, fine. I don't care if you give me your thoughts and opinions or not. Hrmph. I'll do it all myself. So, without any help, this is my definition of civilization so far. Amys' (and noone else's) Definition of Civilization (as of 10-25-06) The social order, which is universally repressionistic, dominative, and controlling (in both positive and negative ways), that promotes culturalization and is directly the result of culturalization. It stems from the struggle against 'base nature', which is the need to rise above and be set apart from the animal. Now, do you feel bad? Are you suffering from a moment of guilt that I have been let down directly by you? Want to make me feel better about myself and make up for the damage that you have caused my inner psyche? Follow these directions: 1. Subscribe to this blog. DO IT! 2. Read and comment. In comment form. Where everyone can see. 3. Profess undying adoration to me. In comment form. Now. 4. Repeat steps 2 and 3 daily. That's it! That's all I expect from you to make me feel better - to instantly change me from a sullen girl to a bright, smiling, and happy one. You have the power... yeah, you're in control... (Shira Girl... look it up if you want... good song). Better do it quick, though, or I just cannot guarentee what I will do to myself as a result of my despair... Oh, and hey - if you really believe the preceding paragraph, I have a bridge I am willing to let go for really cheap. Just drop me a message if you are interested.

In Which Amy Gets Propositioned.... (Myspace Blog)

As you all know, I do not usually post twice in one day... but this was so amusing to me that I have to share... This is an IM I got today, just a minute ago, here on myspace. I'm deleting personal information, since this is not about demeaning someone. Read it. Then go and read my profile. Then come back and read it again. There is a lesson here, kids... read a person's profile before you send a message. Make sure that you are asking for something that is humanly possible. (And make sure you spell words correctly... you have time before you hit send.) (Bold words are my accentuation - parts I thought were VERY funny...) Hello, How are u doing Today and How is work and everything and the weather.I hope ur doing great and having a great fun over there.Im Xxxxx by name ,But my friends call me XX,I love a woman that says her mind and a good listner and i thats really do shows a sign of true love.I love to play games checkers,.Pool and chess.I love to party yea sure..Love to dance and wine..you know..I'm a fun person and i love enjoy the good things in life.I love to travel on vacation and sightseeing.I want a future woman of Good Faith,honest God Fearing,Loyal,Friendly,Sensit ive,Reasonable,A lady that would be able to Understands when in Love.I would love a woman that would be able to love unconditionally and very conservative and caring and knows the right time for a man to be love..I would love to have a chat with you and know more abut you Okay..If you cant view my picture ,I promised to send it to your mail okay..Here is my contact adds ...xxxxxxx_006@yahoo.co.uk ..Alright..Waiting for your sonnest reply,,,I would love to caht coz am online now on the yahoo chat Im Okay..My Yahoo screen name is ''''XXXXXXX_006"""'... Have fun abd stay Bless. XX And he thinks I am going to meet his needs?!? Raise your hand if it is obvious to you that he has no clue about me...

In Which Possession Rears its Scaley Head... (Myspace Blog)

Websters Universal College Dictionary defines the word possess as, "1. to have as belonging to one; have as property; own. 2. to have as a faculty, quality, or the like. 3. to occupy or control from within (of a spirit). 4. to dominate of actuate in the manner of such a spirit. 5. to keep or maintain in a certain state. 6. to succeed in having sexual intercourse with. 7. to seize or take; gain." What is it about this words that worries at my brain? What is it about this word that makes me crave? It has very negative connotations, to possess someone, to be possessed by someone. Yet I know that I am not the only person in this world to think deeply along just such a train of thought. Sarah McLachlan writes, in her song "Possession", "And I would be the one To hold you down Kiss you so hard I'll take your breath away, And after I'd wipe away the tears Just close your eyes, dear. " These words ring true to many, myself included. How do I combine an equally deep need to be independant, to be free to make my own decisions and forge my own path? Can I be possessed by one that I love, possess that person in return, and still be /me/? As a feminist, I think that I must stand up for the rights of women, that we must be strong and capable and need noone, want noone. But this political belief has nothing to do with the thoughts that are going on inside my head when I lie awake and try to fathom how to put my life together in a strong, healthy manner. Is it even healty to want to be claimed? To want someone to be able to say "Mine" and it to be absolute truth? To be a cherished, loved, and deeply adored possession? There is so much more to this that circles in my head - things that I do not think I want my brothers and my sisters and my children and cousins and friends to know about me, at least until I have figured it out for myself. But think about it - what does it mean to be possessed, why does this need (for lack of a better word) manifest itself? What do you think? And just for the record, this does NOT necessarily mean that there is someone specific that I am thinking about. It does NOT mean that I am looking to find someone. It just means that I am thinking. (Update to blog post, 3 June, 2008: Yes, Stephen was in my life at the time. I lied. I wasn't ready to tell yet.)

In Which Amy Meets Serendipity... (Myspace Blog)

I got volunteered for teenage mall duty. Ok, I actually sort-of volunteered myself, if you want to get technical. And it turns out that it was a great thing on multiple levels. Kamy's boys wanted to hit the mall, mi hija tambien, and no other adult was free to be there while they wandered. Last week, I did the same thing and ended up sitting at Barnes and Noble's with a venti hazelnut soy latte and a copy of Laurel Hamilton's newest book "Danse Macabre". It was heaven, but only 14 chapters of heaven. 14 chapters is never enough when there are so many more than 14 chapters possible... so I jumped at the chance to go today. Picking up the boys from the Unitarian Universalist church was fun! So many people that I haven't seen in so long, being as how I go to church so regularly and all. (*cough-bull-cough*) Talking, catching up, etc. Very important. But the most exciting part happened /before/ I saw anyone I knew. I got there a bit before the service ended, so was in the foyer where they just happened to have a book sale going on. I LOVE book sales! I was excited and had not even started looking at books. Right off, I found 2 - "Ishamel" by Daniel Quinn, which my gut says takes a Christian slant, and "The Most Dangerous Man in America, Pat Robertson and the Rise of the Christian Coalition" by Robert Boston, which my gut says does NOT take a Christian slant. These looked interesting enough to spend, get this..., 50 cents each. But the miracle, the crowning glory of my morning, forces me to refer you back to my blog from 10-8-06 . Read through that list of books carefully... and at the very tippy-top of the list you find... "The Selfish Gene" by Richard Dawkins. That's right - I found it for 50 cents! HaHaHa! That means, exactly 2 weeks after my to-read list came out, I have finished 2 of the books on it, and have the next in my hot little hands. Sorry, Brian... "Guns, Germs, and Steel" is going to have to wait a bit longer... because next is "The Selfish Gene". Just in case you are wondering, I still haven't finished "Danse Macabre", but I am on chapter 38! 1 more Sunday afternoon at the mall with a venti hazelnut soy latte oughtta do it.

In Which Amy Fights the Inner Child... (Myspace Blog)

Sometimes the child in my head is so very annoying... Yesterday, I dreamt that I stuck plastic game pieces up my nose, then spent the rest of the dream trying to dig them out. (which sounds even more gross when I write it down than it did when I dreamt it.) This dream was one of those dreams that is LONG - it felt like hours and hours of digging out the pieces in my nose. The piece I stuck in the right side of my nose was quite cooperative, and came out fairly quickly, but the piece stuck in the left nostril kept moving farther and farther up into my sinuses. Which, of course, meant that my finger kept moving father and farther up my sinuses also. Then, this morning, an hour and a half before I had to get up to go to school, *ting!* I'm awake. Just like that. I woke up so fast that it took me a minute or two to realize that I was awake. I thought that I might have been dreaming that I was awake, but nope, I was awake. And not just awake, but WIDE awake, like I had not been sleeping at all. And trying to go back to sleep didn't help - 20 minutes I lay there and my brain cried and ran and giggled to itself until I could not lay in bed another minute. So I yelled at myself a bit, and when I started whining that I wanted to GET UP and I didn't care that it is SATURDAY and who cares that the SUN is not even up yet and ALL RIGHT ALREADY! I'LL GET MY ASS OUT OF BED! *Sigh* The problem with the inner child is that you cannot send them out to turn on the television by themselves and let you sleep. Or beat them. Or make them get their own breakfast for once, dammit. Or get them to sit down and shut up. Or send them outside to play by themselves. Wait - how is that any different?

In Which Amy Admits to "Community Learning"... (Myspace Blog)

I am taking Chemistry this semester. I am not entirely sure that my decision was a sound one, but it needed to be done considering the fact that this class is 1 of 2 that I have failed in my entire college career (The second being an English class that I never went to...) The problem? Ohmygod do I hate chemistry.

The most amusing part of the whole situation is the fact that, originally, many years ago, I wanted to be a biochemist. What was I thinking?

So, part of my chemistry class is a lab. I have a lab partner, a lab drawer, a lab book, a lab notebook, and lab glasses. I'm apparently not yet cool enough for a lab coat... I'll get there. Oh, wait... I am NEVER TAKING CHEMISTRY AGAIN! I /won't/ get there. Yay!

But I digress. Not only do I have all those nifty lab gadgets, but I also have lab reports, due weekly, over things that we have not yet learned about. Without fail, I cannot answer at least some of the questions. Without fail, neither can my lab partner or many of my other classmates. So we have invented a wonderful solution... community learning.

As a critical pedagogist, I see community learning as a valuable tool in the classroom. Put a group of peers together, give them a problem, and let them alone to solve it between themselves. However, most teachers in the college setting look down their noses at such learning environments. But it works, as shown by my 95 in this lab class. When I don't know the answer, I find someone else in the class that does. Simple.

My daughter, upon hearing this, screamed in delight, "Mom, you're cheating!" No - community learning, I tell her. "Well, does your teacher /know/ about it?" Well - no... but it is still not cheating. Community learning. Yeah.

I'm going to go share my answers now...

In Which Amy is Speechless... (Myspace Blog)

Yes, I hear you. No, there was no blog yesterday. No, I am not going to post 2 today. Yes, I will do my best to get back on track. There is a reason for it... I don't feel like I have anything to say. That's right, Amy is speechless. Incredible, you say? Madness, you shout? Is Amy sick, you ask? No. Just - speechless. At least on here. Maybe it is the weather. Or the lack of sleep. Or the busy-ness. I don't know. But I do know that, at the moment I sit in front of the computer to write to all of you, I think, "There is something else I could be doing right at the moment." The books calling my name, or (even better) the bed calling my name. But take heart, family and friends... I am persistant. I will continue in my struggle to post a daily blog! I will defeat the procrastination monster! I will win! HaHaHa! Because I am the CHAMPION! WORLD DOMINATION IS BUT A HEARTBEAT AWAY! I WILL WIN!!! Yeah... ok. I think I am going to bed now.

In Which Amy Goes Back to School... (Myspace Blog)

So, today was the first day of a week that I get to spend teaching in my daughter's Freshman English class. This is very exciting to me. And I walked away very impressed. We started off the class with introductions. Part of which was my statement of teaching philosophy. I was met with blank stares when I said that I believed in teaching people to be critically concious (which I expected), so we began a conversation about the definition of the word 'critical'. I encouraged them to build their own definition, while making hypothesis about the type of teacher I was. Ideas included a teacher of law, a philosopher, a psychologist, and a 'free-thinking scientor'. These kids did an amazing job of building a definition of critical thought... and then we moved into trickier territory... culture. The point is to move on towards an understanding of cultural relevance, but you have to have a basic understanding of culture to be able to understand its relevance. And, many are aware of the fact that culture is a sticky word that tends to be hard to define. It is still a work in progress, but by the time they left class we had filled up chalkboards of ideas they had gleaned from academic definitions and they had the beginnings of a workable definition. I was amazed - I had planned to cover a whole lot more, because I had not expected them to be able or willing to go so deeply. So, tomorrow we go at it again. And I am more excited about it than I was today. There is hope... that these kids, taught in sitdownandshutup classrooms since Kindergarten, can catch on and dig the idea of being critically concious means that they can still grow to be critically concious adults. What a wonderful thing.

In Which Amy Rolls with the Wheel of the Year... (Myspace Blog)

It is officially autumn in my book. I am standing in the doorway of my house looking into my yard. There is a slight cool breeze, far better than the very cold breeze that has accompanied all the rain we have had for the past few evenings. (I adore the rain. My favourite days are always rainy ones.) The reason I know it is autumn is apparant when I look at the ground. It would crackle under my feet had it not been so wet. Leaves. Everywhere. Grey, brown, yellow, orange, red, all spread in a thin layer across my yard. There is more to come, because the tree they have come from is still green and vibrantly full of life. I love the autumn. It is the beginning and the end. We pull in the harvest, remember our dead, and prepare to give thanks for the things in our lives that are a blessing. And I have so much to be thankful for. This year has been a year of transition for me, and I appreciate the transition of the autumn more so because of it. Like me, the life of the tree is a state of flux, constantly changing with the seasons. This winter, while the trees lie dormant through the cold; I ,too, will lie dormant in many ways - my focus inward rather than out. I feel as though I have much to learn from this introspective reflection. Much to learn about myself, how I think, where I want to go in life, and what I believe and feel is worthwhile and worthy. This process of reflection does not come easily for me. I must struggle and fight my way through it because I like to believe that I am flawless and perfect, even though I /know/ that I am not. But this inner struggle is a challenge that carries many rewards. Not only do I stand to gain a greater perception of me, but I also stand to gain a greater acceptance of those who are not like me. I welcome this acceptance... there are so many different types of peoples. I want to be critically aware of the impact that I make while walking amongst them. Am I one who makes waves by speeding through without regard to culture? Or do I row in the midst of culture, basking in it and soaking it up like a sponge in order to internalize the fact that I am no different than they in so many ways. We each choose how we move among our family of fellow human beings. We can choose to make waves and expect the world to move the distance to meet us, or we can bask and soak and meet the world in the middle. I choose acceptance, even when it means that I am the one to do the work.

In Which Amy Has a Baby... (Myspace Blog)

I'm going to have a baby! That's right, I'm going to be an aunt! Again! Technically, Jim (brother) and Erin (almost sister) are going to have the baby but I am so bloody excited that I just have to take all the credit! I love babies. They smell good. So, this baby is going to be (a girl - don't ask me how I know...) either James Jacob or Devin Paige. And beautiful. Not to mention well loved. Personally, I will stand in line to babysit. This will be my 6th niece. A nice even balance for my 6 nephews. Yet one more reason that I am so happy to be alive right here and now. Congratulations, Jim and Erin. Love you both and Thanks for being a part of my family.

In Which Amy Turns Heads... (Myspace Blog)

Tonight was...interesting. Let me preface this by saying that I love local music. You should check out my friends list to find some of the local bands that I enjoy. This list is growing, so keep checking as I add more. Anyway, Worm-Hole, The Third Edge, and The Dirty Clydes were playing at Q-Time, and mi hija was really quite interested in going. This week has been hellacious (mid-terms... ewie.) and I thought, "What the hell", so off we went. Here is the catch - my 5 year old went too. Granted, it was an all-ages show, and outdoors; so we could stay far back and avoid the drinking and smoke, but it was still an interesting experience. Kristin went also, and she took her 4 year old daughter along. Both little ones were so excited - before we left we were sitting in the living room listening to them play in the back bedroom and hearing things like, "I want to see the Rocker boys" and "I hope they play the drums". We couldn't help but giggle and agree that they were excited. When we arrived, we had to walk through the bar in order to get to the patio where the concert was being held. Both little ones chattering and wiggling excitedly, we dragged them as quickly as possible through the bar, but the people in our path grew silent, stopped what they were doing, and stared. Some of them in open-mouthed wonder at our audacity, some of them in outright anger. The trip through the bar felt as though it were two miles long, as Kristin and I glanced at each other with wide eyes. Neither of us expected the response of the crowd. I think, had we slowed our trek even a bit, we might have been lynched. The rest of the evening was better; the kids excited to watch the band setting up, my small one acting shy in front of the people that he knew, then turning to me excitedly and saying, "I can't wait to hear his guitar!" But still, every time a person entered the patio, there was the moment of double take, the second of, "Is that a kid in her lap?!" Neither kid actually made it through the first of the three bands, but that was ok. The experience of being a part of something larger than them, the ability to watch as something that affects so many is created right in front of them, is priceless.

In Which Amy Notices Perspective... (Myspace Blog)

The last time I made my ex-husband angry, he called me the most awful, horrible name that he could think of... socialist. Never mind that it is truth, I AM a socialist. To him, it was the epitomy of Anti-American; the absolute bottom of the barrel, the most heinously awful thing he could possible imagine being. At first, I was offended. But, given time, I realized that the American perspective supported his conclusion. Socialists are considered the bane of American politics, a wonderful throw-back idea from the Cold War. Of course we are anti-American, we want to tyrannize and control and dictate. None of this is actually true; I have yet to meet a fellow socialist that is not painfully aware of the possibilities of tyranny and actively working against it. Neither are we so quick to get rid of America... just like any other player in the political field, we would like to see change. It turns out that I make my ex-husband angry all too often. Possibly, he felt dismay at the fact that I didn't seem to mind too much when he called me socialist, so he changed tactics. This time, he called me an extremist, and he did so to our daughter. I'll set up the scenario for you: He dropped her off after a week + of visitation. He expressed a desire to make sure that he had her during the time that his father was visiting for the holidays. I said, "Maybe we should just celebrate Yule instead of Christmas," seeing as how both of the 'other parents' celebrate Christmas, and it is very unimportant to me... it might be nice for everyone's needs to be met, and I was willing to be the one to give in. So he walks my daughter outside, and tells her that this proves his point that I am an extremist. Does anyone else see the problem? He chose to have a detailed conversation with a young, impressionable girl in regards to things HE sees as negative things about her mother... I am not a religious extremist... sometimes I feel like I do a pretty bad job at being religious at all, and I am ok with that. I don't believe in 'religion' anyway. And I am not a political extremist... many have told me that I do not do enough in the political realm. I am ok with that, too. I do what I can. My kids are free to make their own choices in each of these areas, and most of the time, I share my political views with them only when asked. (Unlike others, who are quick to be judgemental of any opposing political view, and are pushy about shoving thier ideals into conversations and email in-boxes.) The fact that this was told to the teenager about her mother bothers me the most. I do not believe that any person should hear negative things about one parent from the other. I work very diligently to make sure that I do not talk about him in any manner that might be considered negative. I /want/ her to love him. I think that we shall see whose plan was more effective as she gets older. I just hope it does not end up biting ANYONE in the ass.

In Which Amy Spouts Randomness... (Myspace Blog)

It is 5 o'clock in the morning. I am awoken by a tiny voice in my ear - "Momma-there is a starfish in the window." What? A what? "A starfish, Momma, look. A starfish. In the window. There is a starfish in the window." When I finally manage to pry my eyes open and get to the bedside lamp, I see that my son is asleep, in his bed, talking. "Momma, the starfish needs to come in, open the window. No!! DON'T OPEN THE WINDOW!!!" This screaming wakes him up and he blinks at me, then tells me that I woke HIM up, and to turn off the light. Whatever, wacky child. Off goes the light. 10 minutes later, I have just had enough time to get back to sleep, when I hear a tiny voice in my ear - "Spiderman, spiderman, does whatever a spider can..." He is singing. And THAT was the beginning of my day... On an entirely unrelated note, today it is official that more people have read my blog than have looked at my site. I am not entirely sure how that is possible, but it is true. What a shame that so few of those 93 people that have read my blog say anything about it. Especially since most of them are my family... On another unrelated note, I just have to say that I hate studying. Especially for midterms. And at 2 o'clock in the morning. And ALL the time (which is how it feels...) Anyone want to study for me? I promise that I will not mind.

In Which Amy Could Have Died... Again... (Myspace Blog)

There are times when beauty can kill you. The first time this happened to me was the first time I heard the song "Perfect Time of Day" by Howie Day. I was driving home from work, it was overcast and drizzley and the clouds were tumbling over the mountain and it was so beautiful, what with the rain and the clouds and the colours and the song that I thought I could die and even THAT would be beautiful, with the image of perfect beauty in my eyes. I think I just might have drifted off into death, but I thought of my children and it pulled me back into the world and I made it home safely. This morning was the second time. It was far earlier than I am usually even awake, let alone out of the house, driving. Last night had been rainy and hail-y, so I had fallen asleep listening to the plink of hail on the roof. When I left the house, it was still dark, there was water thick on the ground, and the windows of my car were heavy with the almost-frost that is indicitive of the fact that autumn is on her way. Almost as soon as I got on the Interstate, I noticed a very light fog. I was excited! I love fog, because it is so rare! By the time I reached Mesquite, it had become quite heavy; I could barely see the car 20 feet in front of me, and I was starting to get just a bit scared. Then the most amazing thing happened... the sun started to rise. "Perfect Time of Day" came on the radio, and the sun glinted like diamonds off the fog. It was beautiful, the intense beauty that is almost scary like death. My breath caught in my throat, I had to fight to remember how to drive, and, once again, I felt that this beauty was so.... passionate that I could drift off and be blessed to die with beauty like that in my eyes. It was beyond gorgeous. Once again, this thought scared me a bit more, and I thought of my children. Once again, they drew me back, and I remembered that this was not a gift of death, but of life. Though I still had to be careful to remember how to drive, because those diamond gems twinkling like the stars kept calling my name and it was so very tempting... I wonder if I would have had experiences like these before if I had taken the time to stop and notice them, or if they are truely tiny gifts of the Universe that happen so rarely. If that is the case, how lucky am I that I have seen beauty like that, not once, but twice. And how lucky am I that, each time, such beauty has chosen to accompany itself with such a beautiful song. Very lucky indeed.

In Which Amy Finds the Lighter Side... (Myspace Blog)

The nightmare was one of those where I wake up with a jerk, adrenaline pumping. 'Creepy Guy' had hypnotized me and kidnapped me and thrown me into an oubliette, and I knew I was going to die because he wanted to wear my skin, and he was going to skin me alive, and I couldn't get out. An hour later, after writing it all down, thinking about it, and being grateful that it was "only a dream", I was still shaky. Two hours later, sitting in Chemistry, I was struggling to write because I was STILL shaky. And three hours later, sitting in English, the instructor brings in the frog. It is a skinned frog. Skinned and stuffed. It is holding a beer bottle as if it were guzzling it and it has been covered with shellac and I cannot imagine how on earth she can possible stand to touch it. She has named it Fred. I am creepily reminded of my dream... and instantly aware of the fact that my nightmare, at least in part, has come true for this frog. I wonder if 'Creepy Guy' would have shellacked me. She wants us to write about Fred- something funny. She almost sets the frog in front of me and I recoil, then explain the dream to her and the class. They stare at me blankly - maybe I am the ONLY person who has nightmares like this. But she does not set it in front of me after all. I am glad. I have to work to be funny, because I do not see anything funny about this frog... and then the glimmer appears. This is what I write: "I imagine him at a bar - Western. He needs a cowboy hat and chaps. He has been riding hard all day - Ooo... an outlaw! Yeah, shooting innocent women and children. He sidles up to the bar after slamming back the swinging doors. His spurs click as he walks with the bowfoot swagger. "Gimmie whiskey - the whole bottle!" His clothes and skin are brown from the dirt of the trail. He tips the bottle back and guzzles it, draining it dry then slamming it down like a gunshot - he has 2 pistols, 1 at each hip, slung low. He clinks to the poker table and pushes his way in, growling. The cantina girls do not approach, but he grabs the nearest and pulls her down onto his lap - her eyes are wide with fear. He growls to be dealt in. He cheats, a barfight erupts - he throws the cantina girl to the floor to fight." Not bad humour for such a crappy nightmare.

In Which Amy Adds to the 'To-Read' List... (Myspace Blog)

I wish I had free time to read. Being in college, having two kids, a house to clean, animals to take care of, and chauffeuring to do makes it difficult to do the things I want to do - like read. (I hear those fellow college students saying "But you do get to read... textbooks!" That's just not the same...) My desire to read gets particularly strong when people tell me about other incredible books they have read. Especially when the books sound so good that I want to read them too. In order to solve my dilemma, I have decided to add to my 'To-Read' list. This list usually comes out only at the holidays, when my family gives me book after book as gifts. I can never choose which one to read first, so I put them on a list, then read them down the rows. My list has been empty for a while, since I finished the holiday books in May. But the time has come to add to it again. Here is what is on my 'To-Read' List right now: (*this is a book that I have in my possession) Richard Dawkins "The Selfish Gene" Richard Dawkins "The God Delusion" Jared Diamond "Guns, Germs, and Steel" Jared Diamond "Collapse" Sam Harris "A Christian Nation" Thomas L. Freedman "The World is Flat" something by Stephen J. Gould * Paulo Freire "Pedagogy of the Opressed" * bell hooks "Teaching Community" * Betsy Reed, ed. "Nothing Sacred: Women Respond to Religious Fundamentalism and Terror" * Cherrie Moraga, Gloria Anzaldua, eds. "This Bridge Called my Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color" * Kim Stanley Robinson "The Years of Rice and Salt" Hell, since my list is active anyway, I would love for you to add to it... What wonderful tomes of knowledge would you recommend for me to read? Nothing is off-limits: I think that I will read just about anything. But I would especially love to know which books shaped you or changed your thinking. And since we are recommending books, here are a few for you. Read them... because I said so. A. A. Milne "The Complete Winnie the Pooh" Isabel Allende "The House of the Spirits" "The Complete Kama Sutra" translated by whoever you want

In Which Amy Points the Finger.... (Myspace Blog)

It is all Travis' fault. No, really. It is. All his fault. Do you want to know why? I'll tell you. See, I sold out. I said that I would never give into the myspace phenomenon. I would never enslave myself to a computer site that is simply for the false security of having 20 gazillion 'friends'. But no, Travis says, "Amy, you HAVE to get a myspace! Everyone needs a myspace! And YOU especially need a myspace!" with his fucking infectious excitement. And I think, how bad can it be? Ha! How bad can it be indeed! Because now I don't sleep. Being anal retentive, of course school doesn't get the time shaft. Something has to give... so I don't sleep. And all of a suden, I have an overwhelming need to see who might talk to me. And how good a 'friend' I am. And an undeniable need to blame it all on Travis. Not only this. (As if this wasn't enough!) Last night, after driving for HOURS (1) simply to see him, (And no one else. Really.) Travis says to me, "I think there is benefit to having a free-market system." Argh! I know nothing about the free-market system, so now I have to research it before I can comment! Damn! It really is all Travis' fault. Here are some other things that are all Travis' fault... *the sun rises too early in the morning... *not enough beer because I have to drive...*HR 6166 AND HR 4437.... *crazy need to blog daily... *Sunburns... *the fact that, even with all this, I LIKE Travis... I am sure there is more. I am sure that I could go on forever. I am also sure that there are others of you that can add to the list of things that are Travis' fault. Feel free to add them. Just so we can all show Travis how much we care.

In Which Amy Ponders the Implications of Shoes... (Myspace Blog)

I want to talk about shoes. There is a guy who walks to class barefoot. This makes me happy. I do not know why. He is tall, with longish-blonde hair - a hippie like me maybe? Anyway, I think he is important. I think I have things to learn from him. Is it the freedom from the constraint of wearing shoes? He makes me want to write about them.

A college campus is the perfect place to write about shoes - there are so many to see. Tennis shoes, dress shoes, pointy toed, black lace, high heeled, flip flops, sandals (though none like mine... are 'Jesus sandals' really so unusual?) I think people are the only species to cover their feet. Does this further our inherent human need to distance ourselves from the animals?

Signs tell us "No shoes, No shirts, No service". We have societalized the need to wear shoes, taken away the choice to wear shoes or not - Why? Does it matter if you have shoes to go into a convenience store? Are the candies going to be infected by a persons' dirty feet stepping on the dirty floor that the candies don't even touch?

Wow - I never thought of the concept of shoes being, really, a concept of control. We are told that we MUST wear shoes. I am sure that people walking by barefoot guy think how strange he is, how abnormal. We are brainwashed into believing that 'different' means 'abnormal'. I like that he has rejected this means of direct control. I like that it makes me question - whose authority is it to decide whether or not I wear shoes? Why is it anyone's decision except for mine? I think I need to go and sit where I can watch these tiny control devices more closely... perhaps there is more to them than meets the eye.

I am going to have to stop barefoot guy and tell him what I have learned from him...

In Which Amy Thinks About Civilization... (Myspace blog)

I was having a delicious cross-cultural (he in the UK, me in the US) political discussion, when my very old and dear friend Stephen said, "Civilization occurs through depriving those around you of pure free choice of action..." I had to stop and think... how do I feel about this? Is this truth? And I couldn't say. Partly because I had never stopped to think about WHAT civilization was. SO... I did some research. I took what I found and put together a very tentative Amy-nition of civilization. I am curious as to how others define it, so please share with me, and help me to develop my own knowledge about this surprisingly sticky topic. In a few days, I will follow up and post what my research showed me... and my own definition. It is very interesting stuff.