Feminist

The bf has this young male co-worker that is having issues with the ladies. Well, with one lady because he doesn’t get that she is with someone and completely happy with that someone. He hangs on to the hope that she will someday leave her partner for him. Where he gets this hope is beyond anyone because she shows no sign of being interested.

So, naturally (that is meant with a tone of sarcasm), they decided I should compile a t-chart (because I am a teacher and that’s the standard teacher format) with do’s and don’t when it comes to the laydeeez for this kid.

When the bf told me about this, I’d had a long day of meetings* and was idling on the couch trying to clear my brain. Then, I made sense of what he was asking and I said, “Do your work friends not know about me? Do you even talk about me?”

Deer in the headlights looking bf says, “What do you mean?”

“Do they not know that I’m not your typical woman?”

“That’s why I thought it would be funny. You could give him a feminist take on it.”

“Huh,” I said as I returned to my idling.

It made me wonder later. Are feminist really that different? Am I a true feminist? Because although I agree with a lot of feminist theory, I don’t feel that I know that much about feminism to comfortably use the term and stand my own in an anit-feminist debate and such.

Then I started thinking about the things I would write on this t-chart, and I don’t know that it would be any different than most women. If it is different, it’s because I have my hang ups since I have been fat almost all of my life and that tends to shape how you deal with people of whatever sex you are attracted to.

I never did get around to that t-chart. I don’t know that I will either. I’m much more concerned with spending my free time sleeping and doing things that I enjoy like research, watching Youtube videos, and maybe hammering out a story or another chapter in that damn novel that has been plaguing me.

*True story, we had a meeting about having meetings. That was a doozy. Seriously, like, really, a meeting about having a meeting? All you can do is laugh.

BTS

“I won’t be able to take you to work on Monday,” I said as I unpacked groceries.

He tried to give me the puppy dog look and said, “I know. You’re going to get busier.”

I looked at him annoyed because he hadn’t been paying attention to anything I’d said in the last week, “I’m back to work officially on Monday.”

“Oh really?”

I’m pretty sure it’s most men that are this absent-minded and self involved, but good grief is it annoying.

I haven’t done anything “special” for back to school. I spent Friday running errands, yesterday I stocked up on groceries to help prepare easy meals, and today, well, I don’t know yet.

It’s been a good summer. I had a little remorse in early August for taking off all of July, but now I don’t. I enjoyed doing nothing or whatever I wanted the whole time. I enjoyed spending almost all of the week my mom was visiting with her, my sister, and my niece.

I turned down being the campus representative for my teacher’s union and I quit my Tuesday tutoring gig. I still feel bad about the tutoring because it’s extra cash. Still, there were times I bought materials out of pocket and if it means getting home earlier to make dinner, I think it’s well worth it. I’m determined to eat out a lot less.

It always happens that in the summer I cook at home a lot more because I have time to peruse ads, plan, shop, and organize. Plus, it helps to watch the Food Network once in a while. I don’t necessarily make what I see, but I get inspired to make things that I thought I couldn’t. This summer’s dish was ribs.

I’m interested to see how this all pans out. I am resigned in a sense to giving less of me. I gave up a bit of my summer to prepare, but my classroom is completely ready. Kids could show up tomorrow and it’d be okay. I’m not freaking out about dept. head duties. If some of the people on the team don’t want to work as a team, then that will be their problem. With our new curriculum, they are going to miss out on opportunities. Where I lost it last year was trying to help all kids. While that is a noble cause, I can’t do that at this point. So this year, I will focus on my kids. The ones on my roster. If I accidentally help others, that will be a bonus.

Deceit

I’m not sure where I read about a new book about lying. Perhaps it was in the Oprah magazine that I browsed through at Barnes and Noble earlier. Anyway, it pointed out some stats like white lies aren’t really all that good and a large percentage, like 80%, of people tell lies. As I cut through the parking lot to the easiest exit, it got me thinking about all the things I have lied about in particular the things that I’ve lied to myself about.

I lie to myself a lot. Mostly to “fake it ‘till I make it.” On those days where everything goes wrong and I’m convinced my day is going to be horrible because the steamer ran out of water or my alarm clock didn’t go off, I often rationalize that those things will not dictate my day and plaster a smile across my face at the first sign of students and colleagues.

That’s not a lie you may say, but to me, it is. See, this is how I got myself to like reading. I have always read, ever since I was a little kid. My oldest sister used to buy me books from some mail service. I remember I had this huge book with all these funky looking drawings. The book was designed to teach me my colors, numbers, the alphabet, etc. I’m sure you know the kind. I loved looking at it and wanted so bad to know what it said. I had other titles, too and Gabi always brought home books for me from the library. Despite us being immigrants and poor, our house was not a poor print home. My mom always tried to instill in us a love of reading.

My mom always recalls me sitting in my rocking chair next to my record player looking at books and listening to music. I loved having books around and looking at the pictures and being read to.

When I finally learned to read, I was motivated by programs like Book It or by praise from my teachers, but honestly, I didn’t like reading so much.

I would have to read passages over and over sometimes because I didn’t understand the words and/or would go off on a mental fieldtrip. Still, I continued to read.

It’s funny that for someone who didn’t love reading, I actually read a lot. Perhaps my lack of friends helped. In seventh grade, I would spend my lunchtime in the library perusing the shelves. Or maybe the summer that we moved to my sisters and there was nothing to do and I learned to stay up all night glued to a book because I became enthralled by the lives of the characters. During high school, I often avoided going home and hung out in the library instead.

When people asked what I liked to do, naturally, I said read because it was something I did often whether or not I was successful. I faked it until I made it because now, I really do like to read. I’ve spent much of my free time this summer with my nose in a book or listening to one on my iPod as I clean or attempt to fall asleep. So maybe lying to myself this instance wasn’t such a bad thing.

Memories

Today, amidst the cleaning and napping and errand running I visited two memories.

The first happened when I was sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed staring at the various tubes of lotions that ended up in my bedroom. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed because there still seemed to be so much to do and I couldn’t figure out how I was going to carry that many products back into the bathroom and then I’d have to rearrange the contents of the cabinet to make them fit, but before that I would need to change the litter because surely I wouldn’t be able to stand the smell and I might as well sweep and mop the floor before I clean the litter. So I sat there and took a trip to the district championship soccer game last spring. Who knows what got me thinking about it. But I started thinking how telling it was that the student who invited made sure to come up into the stands to say hello and thank me for coming. I also got to wondering if he’d invited any other teachers. The old coach who took a position mid-semester was there, as was the head coach, and the program coordinator that funds soccer (soccer is considered a club and not a sport at our campus).

It made me feel really good to go and see some of my current and former students kick some SoHo butt. I also enjoyed listening to the parents cheer on their kids. Everyone was supporting “los rojos.” Some parents brought gallons of juice and coolers for the little kids. One of my former students was out there trying his best while his mom gave birth to his baby sister down the street. His dad and little brothers were there supporting him. Those are the things that I truly miss. Last year I had so many duties that although they help kids, don’t allow me to be in the midst of all the action interacting with the kids. I hope I can change that this year.

The other memory trip came as I was driving to run an errand. Again, who knows what triggered it, but I got to thinking about my graduation party. Thinking back, I feel guilty that I wasn’t around to help much. My sister, her bff, and my mom did all of the work from cooking to setting up tables and decorating. It was really cool. There was mole, frijoles refritos, Caro’s famous empanadas, garbanzo and onion salad (one of my favorites), and perhaps some kind of wine punch. There was a cake made by my old supervisor at APP. I’m sure there were other things, but that’s all I remember these days. It was cool because despite it being crazy times, lots of people came and we all just had a good time. When I was thinking about this earlier, I was captivated by the idea that these three women had done this for me, like my ada madrinas. I guess in a way they all kind of are. It’s the kind of thing that happens in movies and sometimes we say, “wouldn’t it be cool if I had….” Sometimes completely missing that we actually already have that.

Summer 09

Summer is halfway over and I feel like I just now got a chance to relax. Even though I attended fewer staff developments this year and the training I helped lead didn't involve as much planning as last year, somehow I feel like I’ve spent the first half of this summer working. June felt like it just flew by.

The good news is that I can totally get away with slacking off now if I want. Aside from spending Tuesday conducting interviews with a slew of characters, I spent most of the week just relaxing. Although, when your nose is constantly congested and your hearing is a bit off because of it and you’re living for your next dose of Sudafed, it’s not much of a vacation.

I did manage to get into a little routine in which I live my life in thirty to one hour increments depending on what television show is currently leading my life. Today, I made a conscious choice not to do that. Yesterday, the finale of the Gilmore Girls was re-aired and I’d been waiting for that since Spring Break, or maybe the little break I gave myself in May. Anyway, I mostly laid around reading a manuscript of an upcoming Pinata Books title with the television on something crappy just for background noise.

The good thing is that it doesn’t take much for my obsessions to change. I just have to become involved in the lives of the characters and then it’s like my sunflower seed addiction—don’t stop until you finish the bag…even if you scald your tongue with the salt.

I got like that with My Sister’s Keeper earlier this summer. It was during the three day TALA training that I twitted about. I would stay up until 2 or 3 AM knowing that I had to be at training the next day, but I'd become so obsessed that I was dedicated to finishing it before the week was over. In my mind, I rationalized my reading with being brain dead at the training. I think that’s the only way I made it through that week. Kelley Gallagher said it best, “I was better off sitting in my cubicle staring at my belly button and watching fuzz grow.”

I do have to make a more decent effort at not spending my days wishing I would just get up and shower so that I could sit at Barnes and Noble sipping tea and writing or reading as the afternoon sunlight streams in and causes a golden glow on the table tops. I also really want to check out the renovated main library. Apparently, best coffee shop in the area has a café in there. I should totally go and take advantage of reading smut magazines instead of rushing through them while waiting to check out at Wal Mart.

Next week the Mother arrives so that should be fun. And then after that, I think I have one official week of summer left before my times gets eaten away by the little work caterpillars. I must make the most out of this last bit of summer. Next year isn’t promising anything different and I will need all of the energy and I can gather up.