Bats
I have a bit of wanderlust right now thanks to my obsessive viewing of the Travel Channel. I just watched shows on Samoa and Tahiti, and I am jonesing for a trip. I'm not really a beach person. In fact the thought of going to a place like South Padre, Cancun, or even Miami gives me hives. What appeals about these places is the sense of apartness. These are places where time has stood if not still, at least stiller than in the rest of the world. I appreciate the laid back attitudes of the islands, and I applaud the importance of tradition and family. I'd like to think I could readapt to that sort of atmosphere. Probably, though, I would go nuts in a week without internet. Still, a girl can dream.
The post title, incidentally, refers to Andrew Zimmern eating bats in Samoa. I wasn't aware that they were edible, but then again I don't know very much.
All of this rekindles an interest I had in grad school of food cultures, unlocking the secrets of societies through their consumption of food. I am not sure where to go with this, but it has possibilities.
I spent the morning getting blood tests done to determine if I have any hormonal or chemical issues. I will be glad to at least get a fuller picture of my situation. Knowledge is power, right?
I must get back to the books. I have a page quota to fullfil.

Killer Sushi
No, I did not get to go out for the yummy Japanese treat, in fact I ate cereal for dinner all by my lonesome. But I did discover the best waste of time ever. Check this out.

Hinterlands
I just finished a fascinating albeit lengthy study on the emergence of Chicago as a gateway city and industrial super power of the West. Although it is much more complicated, the central argument is one that I find fascinating and troubling. The author poses the problem of the disconnect between nature and the city. Most people latch on to one or the other without considering the complex relationships between the two. City dwellers tend to forget that our food comes from somewhere, that our clothing does not simply magically appear in the stores, that our water comes from anywhere other than our faucets. Those in the country often look with cynical eyes towards the city, the land of thieves, waste, and iniquity without pausing to remember that they could not exist without city buyers for their goods. The commodification of nature and the disconnect between product and the land as well as between the land and the market are troubling. I don't really know what I am going to do with this information except that I will try to be more mindful of the origins of what I use.
And now I need to start my next book.

Dates
Apparently on top of everything else I need to worry about, there is a serious shortage of Ramadan dates. My list gets longer each day.
My mind is teeming with ideas, so much so that the real world starts to seem a little dim. This morning I spent some time volunteering at Catholic Charities, though, to ground myself in the here and now.
I am overwhelmed. I am happy.
Back to work.

Scholar
First day impresssions:
1. I only thought I had been following a rigorous reading schedule. I was wrong. I will be eating, breathing, inhaling history at a rate of 4-5 books a week.
2. Fellow students share my love of learning.
3. Professors actually care.
4. I could live in the library--I spent about 3 hours there this afternoon in the basement of the stacks and enjoyed working in the complete silence.
5. There is nothing better than the smell of old books.
6. I am scared.
7. I can't wait!

Back in the Saddle
Two important events yesterday:
1) I went to my orientation for the grad program. Despite initial awkwardness in meeting new people, it was great. I feel lke I am ready to take on this challenge. The people there are unfailingly nice, and they really believe in helping each student. I met the woman with whom I will probably be working with, and we really hit it off. Due to scheduling, I had some extra time between events, and I even got to spend a few hours sampling the grad life while sitting in a coffee shop and reading.
2) The social worker called, and we've been matched again. I'm not really shouting this from the roof tops, and I probably won't be talking about this a lot until it actually happens. If you know me in person, don't be offended if I don't call or email about it--we're just not at the point where we can do that. There will be no celebration until November. Still, as cautious as I feel, perhaps the third time will be the charm.

Drawing Board
It comes as no real surprise, but A finally got back to me today and told me that she has decided to parent.
I experienced my grief back in June because I knew at that point this would not happen, so right now I am maily just numb.
I hope that she has the support to raise this baby to be a happy and healthy child.

And now I have another ghost baby to love.

Scattered
I like to think of myself as carefree and spontaneous, but in reality I am a freak about scheduling and rather obsessed with routines and times. My current flux, thus, has me completely flummoxed. Rather than a set schedule, I have seemingly random activities on non-repeating days. Today I tutored at 10. Tomorrow I tutor at 3, have a happy hour and then book club. The next day I have something planned from 9-10 and then a guest arrives. I am trying to live in the moment, but this randomness makes my skin crawl. Am I supposed to learn something about letting go of control? Or is the universe just messing with me?
Still, despite feeling slightly adrift, I am looking forward to starting school. I have an orientation at the end of the week, and classes begin next week. I am trying to avoid shrieking in terror and hiding my head in the sand. As much as I rejoice in this journey, I have killer moths in my stomach. What if I'm not smart enough? What if the professors hate me? What if I miss my train? What if, what if, what if???? Each day, though, I try to give myself a few minutes to indulge in my neurotic silliness, and then I get back to reading, preparing, taking notes, and trying to comprehend the scope of American History. That is, after all, far more interesting than whining about what to wear to orientation.
Operation unitask continues. I've gotten proficient in doing only one thing at a time, but my biggest struggle is controlling my mind, getting it to stay focused on a task and not drifting off and beginning to worry. Retraining my brain will be difficult, but I remain convinced that I must do this.

Unitasking Days 1 and 2
I've been seriously trying to tame my multitasking multisensory ways, and for the most part the first two days were successful. It's been strange to turn off the radio in the car and to not talk on my cell phone while driving (although I did cheat once). I've tried to set aside chunks of time for each task, and I do seem to be able to work more fully that way.
Today at lunch time instead of eating front the tv, I sat quietly at the table and tried to fully appreciate my food. This is going to sound silly, but I actually thought about where it came from, and I said a conscious thank you to the growers who picked the grapes, the cows who produced my yogurt, and even to myself for the making of fresh bread. When I write it, the whole thing sounds new wave frou frou, but I found the experience quite refreshing. I want to be mindful of what I put in my body and its costs.
One thing I've noticed is that I am participating more fully in conversations because I am not also trying to do other tasks like doing dishes, cooking, driving, reading, etc. If that is the only benefit I take away from this experiment, I think I will be better off.
Tonight I had a wonderful dinner with a friend followed by a nice walk in a strangely pleasant Texas summer night. I know so many people who suffer from extreme loneliness, and it makes me so gratful for the tremendous friends that surround me. I may have many problems, but loneliness is certainly not one.
In the spirit of acknowledging my blessings, tomorrow I am spending the day at Catholic Charities unloading trucks of donated furniture. I'm looking forward to giving back in a tangible way. Of course I may feel differently after the 18th desk!

Focus
I just read an article by my hero A.J. Jacobs who became disgusted by his constant multi-tasking, so he decided to spend a month trying to focus on only one thing at a time. As a person who frequently is cooking, watching the tv, and reading the paper at the same time, I related to his quest. I am going to try to only do one thing at a time. I always tell myself that my brain needs stimulation and can keep up with the myriad activities I throw at it, but perhaps what I am doing instead is losing my ability to truly focus and to live in the moment. I cannot promise success, but I will at least give it a shot.
Directly related to this, I will spend far less time reading blogs and taking quizzes on a certain social networking site that I may or may not be a little obsessed with. It is not that I no longer care what you are doing, I just think I owe it to myself to try to live my own life.
I know that as I head back to school I will need to further develop my focus and ability to concentrate a read without interruption. The book lists for these courses are quite daunting to be honest.
Now I'm going to go brush my feeth (without simultaneously putting on shoes and cleaning out my ears), and then I will head off to yoga where I will not check the clock while holding warrior 2.

Between 8 and 5
Once again I am spending the day waiting for repair people, but today, supposedly, is the last day in purgatory. After the installation of the radiant barrier, and after I write my last large check, Operation Manse Amelioration will be officially complete. What a tremendously unsexy way to spend money! $8000 has purchased us the following:
1. Attic stairs
2. Air conditioning condensation pan
3. Reconstructed bathroom cabinet
4. Newly painted ceiling
5. New drywall and paint in garage ceiling
6. Partially painted closet
7. New roof
8. Radiant barrier
For all that the house looks exactly the same as it did before. Why is home ownership supposed to be a boon again? On the upside, as the repairs are coming to a close, this will officially be my last jeremaid on the subject. Those people who have suffered my endless moaning on the topic can consider the topic closed.

In other news I just started a fascinating book on 18th century seamen and pirates. I just can't believe that I am getting paid to read and explore. I consider myself blessed to get to do what I love. Well worth the cut in pay.

Finally, E and I was chatting on our evening walk last night, and I think we have both come to peace with the fact that this family of ours may not be complete for quite some time. For a long time the desire for a baby has been, "now, now, now, now," but at the moment I think we are ok with whatever timetable we are on. If it takes another year, it takes another year. I want it to be the right situation, and I don't want to make the mistake again of jumping into a match with someone when I don't feel 100% confident. We've been so scared that if we say no, we might not get another chance for a long time. This is realistic given the fact that it's been roughly 5-6 months between times we've been contacted. That being said, neither of us has the energy for the drama-rama that comes from rushing into a ill-advised match. I spent some time in the baby's room yesterday, just thinking, and in a way saying goodbye to both Joseph and A's baby. The thing is I was able to look with love on those objects, not with bitterness or pain. When I got in there again it will be for the purpose of preparing for our child, but I'm ok if that door stays closed for awhile. I'm not giving up, but I am letting go. I think there is a difference.
Perhaps all of my waiting this summer has done some good after all.

Forget Red vs. Blue -- It's the Educated vs. People Easily Fooled by Propaganda | | AlterNet
Interesting story about the dumbing of America. I am not sure if his statistics are right. If so, I am truly frightened. I live in a highly educated bubble where I am surrounded by people who read, think, and write, but I do fear that intellectualism is becoming demonized. That being said, the deragatory tone towards the uneducated in this piece really does nothing to bring the country together or to solve the problem. We cannot look at the illiterate as sheep like Hughes tends to do and expect them to be willing to cooperate in building a successful democracy.
I welcome ideas.

Intimations of Mortality
Given a few situations with friends I've been pondering mortality a little more than usual. Nothing like the dreaded "c" word to make one think seriously about the future. Not to sound too morbid, but I've been thinking a lot about what sort of legacy I want to leave.
First of all, it further cements my desire for a child. It seems much of life is about passing down ideas, traditions, love, and knowledge. It sounds shallow, and I don't mean to suggest that my desire for a child is simply as a selfish ploy for immortality. Yet, it seems to me that if there is any purpose in life it is to love and be loved in return. I want that opportunity to love wholly.
Secondly and quite related to the first point, I've been taking small moments to appreciate my wonderful husband even more, from random hugs in the kitchen to watching him play with the dog or even brush his teeth. This thing we have matters, and we need to nourish it always.
I also feel more than ever assured in my decision to go back to school, to drop a former life and begin anew. Primarily I feel that I have an intellectual power that I want to hone. I have a passion for learning that borders on the freakish, whether I am devouring monographs, the dictionary, or newspapers. My old job stiffled my intellect which was slowly killing me. I need that stimulation or I become less me. I want to give something to the intellectual community. In addition, I guess I am proud that I threw off my old life to follow my dream. So many people get stuck, often out of a combination of fear or financial issues. I am blessed that we are able to live pretty comfortably on E's salary, but I also think that as a society we get so caught up in material goods that we think we need more than we do. Between paying for the adoption and saving for me to quit my job, I have discovered that those items I used to think of as needs are simply wants. (Except my expensive Greek yogurt habit, that's a need!) I find the prospect of throwing myself into the new exilerating (and terrifying). In the end, part of my decision comes from not wanting to get bogged down by daily life and wonder in twenty years what happened to my dreams. This is not to say that a life as a middle school teacher would not have it's own rewards, but I need something bigger.
It also puts perspective on my primary complaint of the last year or so--the unpredictability of the situation. I've been bewailing my lack of control, the inability to have a timeline, the not knowing. My friend walked into a doctor's office with a headache and walked out with cancer. Who am I to complain that I don't know what the future is going to hold? None of us know. When I leave in an hour for my yoga class, any number of calamities could befall me--what hubris to think I deserve a road map when no one else gets one. In the end I suppose this uncertainty has a beauty to it. If everything can change in the next moment, my goal should be to suck the marrow out of this one. None of these are, of course, new thoughts or ideas, but they ring true to me today and resonate in a way I would have found impossible yesterday.

WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high pil`d books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, 5
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And feel that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more, 10
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.
--John Keats

Rut Roh!
Always enjoyable, Cake Wrecks is particularly hilarious today. Check it out.

Roofers have been assaulting the house since 8:30 a.m., and I am about to take a hostage. When I went outside to get the mail, 8 of them were sleeping in the shade of the tree, and my entire yard is littered with crap. The hullabaloo (isn't that a great word) has permantly traumatized Toby who has taken to barking and throwing himself at the door.

Just another day in paradise!

And Then the Letting Go. . .
I had a strange realization yesterday. I am honestly ok with this process. I will be happy if A places with us but also ok if she does not. I heard that they sent out our profile again, and rather than a flood of emotions, I felt a sense of calm. Either it will happen or not. To be honest, people have been trying to get me to adopt this attitude for a long time, but I felt it impossible. I am a little unclear of what has changed.
My best guess is that you can only hurt that badly for so long. Perhaps there is some sort of mercy in this. Perhaps after riding the roller coaster for too long, a person can just refuse to get on. Perhaps it is some sort of primal survival instinct. Or maybe it is just that I have found other things in my life to focus on like my dream of being Dr. B, my tutoring business, and my wonderful friends and family. Regardless of the cause, I welcome the peace, tenuous as it may be.

My New Job
I've decided this should be my new career.
Next to official creme brule taster, I think it would be the best job ever.

Except Shark Week has me a little paranoid around water. Something to consider.

Back to School
As I flipped my calendar over to August this morning (ok, so I'm a few days late), I realized that I should be getting my classroom in order. I should be making photo copies. I should be writing lesson plans and hanging posters. I went to Office Depot over the weekend and stared wistfully at the aisles of binders, expo markers, sticky tack, stickers, and paper clips. As truly, blissfully excited as I am about heading off to TCU this fall, I cannot underestimate the loss of leaving the classroom.
Of course my day plan of swimming, yoga, bread baking and reading does help put a dent in the sorrow!!!

Big Fat Quitter
Despite my intrinsic hatred of quitting, I have done just that. I quit the test prep job in the middle of training. It just wasn't working. Not only did I not feel comfortable, but the schedule never would have worked, and I wasn't going to make that much money. Still, the old me would have hung o despite all of the disadvantages simply because I had gotten myself into the situation. The new me says life is far too short.
I don't know when I grew this backbone--usually I am ruled by the hash mistress of a midwestern protestant genealogy.
I'm continuing my manic devouring of U.S. history this week, this time plunging headlong into the history of the West which I am strangly taken in by. I never thought I would be drawn to this field, but I find myself eagerly lapping up the books. To be honest, I have a problem in that I find myself fascinated by whatever I happen to be concentrating on. Last week I had pretty much convinced myself that I would focus on Colonial Era history. I don't know how I will ever pick a disseration topic without a complete melt down.
Tonight I am leading a little mini-retreat at church. I have no idea what I am doing and only a few hours in which to figure it out. I'm trying to apply yoga lessons to real life, and I'm really working on flowing. If all else fails, perhaps we can all just breathe.