blog-go abandonado

• no, I don't have one thousand four dollars and ninety-seven cents for three months' insurance premium, which claudia "doesn't have a record of my paying for" um, cause I didn't pay for it.
• sure, I'll come by the office with a check this afternoon.
• yes, I am in love.
• yes, I got my job back for fall.
  
• no, I am not sorry for not blogging all summer.
  
• yes, I am sorry for starting up again.
  

poetic argument, real and imagined

seriously? seriously.

the car we could barely afford two summers ago,
with three years of payments
you've got left to go,
that you insisted upon having,
your sign of sportiness,
of i-have-arrived-and-am-i-still-cool?-
i think-yes-iness,
the damn thing with a payment that's keeping us from having a decent college fund for the kids,
and making you eat even worse than the average newly-single male--
and the blasted custom*1 cargo-box on the roof
that you just had to have,
maybe even more than the car itself,

you put a
SHARE THE ROAD WITH BICYCLES bumper sticker on the cargo-box
flagged on either side with gargantuan*2 iridescent gold mud flap girls.

wow, turning thirty-nine must have been harder for you than it looks.

no. no. no.
you cannot drive around our conservative town
with our seven- and two-year-old sons with that literally hanging over their heads.

NO.
Gnombot. seriously.
That is unacceptable.

[glances over his shoulder
toward what
I have great Faith
is a replica of
or an homage to
a sticker arrangement
he saw
at the races
he competed in*3
last weekend]

You may not pick up B. from school with that.
it is totally inappropriate.

you don't have a sense of humor?

Gnombot,
he'd have to be about twelve or thirteen
to understand the irony of that.
[sure it's fucking clever.
you thrive on approval
from strangers--
the ones who are
thin enough
fast enough
witty enough
just a little bit different
but not too much like
crazy katiri.

and you can't maintain
that desperate display in an attempt at coolness ,
and be a decent dad
role model
whatever
with that junk on your car.
they and their peers are too young
to get it.
and did i mention the choking desperation
that surrounds you?]

ooooooo-kay.

Put D. on the potty when you get home;
he hasn't pooped yet.
he pooped around this time yesterday
on the potty.
Yes, you did!
You sweet little man!
beat.
He needs a bath.

I'll take him swimming*4.

ummm, Do you have light jacket for him?

I think you have about three.
Do some laundry and get some clothes
for them back over here.

[pissy look. ]

[yeah, I'm still in your life,
up your ass,
telling you right from wrong,
when to take the kid to shit on the toilet,
that you shall bathe him today,
and that you have to do laundry,
you foolish, petty, insecure,
no-longer-fucking-this-hot-mother
Motherfucker.]

bye bye baby, see you tomorrow.
i love you!

[I am a
foolish, petty, insecure,
no-longer-fucking-
that-seriously, has she gotten hotter?-
hot-mother-
of-my-two-sons
Motherfucker.]

[yes.
Yes, I am actually hotter.
and I have lost about 15 pounds aching over you.
And, Yes, yes,
yes you are
foolish
petty
insecure.
But we can still be friends.]

[I know.]

[loveyoubye]

[byebeautiful]

[you're such a dumbfuck.]

[I said, I know.
Stop dwelling.]

[right on.]

see you tomorrow then.
[totally gonna keep those stickers on
and just
not
drive the kids around
with the cargo box up there.]

[that's fine.]

[i hardly believe that--

[--which is good
because you take pleasure
in thinking you're
"getting away with it."
shit, you're boring.

thirty-nine, huh?]

[thirty-nine.
thanks for hating my mustache so fervently.]

[no trouble at all!
you looked like
an avid model train hobbyist
/slash/
child abductor*5]

[I know.
look, now that we're divorced
let's do this less often.]

[sure, just lose the
'ironic' i'm sporty-funny-and-open-minded
please suck on me
sticker setup]

[right on.
thanks again.]

[loveyoubye
for real this time,
i have things to do
things that don't involve you]

[so jealous.
byeagainbeautifulgirl.
damn i miss you]

NOTES
*1- extraordinarily expensive accessory for the vehicle we didn't need
*2- 12-14 inches in height.
*3- three triathlons in three days.
*4- in the pool at his desolate apartment complex.
*5- it was so terrible that i miss it.

My Delight

I would be so pleased to have some questions from readers, ala MindfulMama's idea.

My mind-body-spirit are all in excellent form, and I even know why! I think that being open with my close family and friends, and having some anonymice (that's the plural of anonymouse, which is what I call my semi-anonymous online friends who can't help but love the me they think they know, which, actually is the me that I am at my bestest!) has been so very helpful.



My Gentlemanfriend and I had a fun/relaxing weekend together.

Tasty,
meaningful,
inspiring,

food,
conversation,
sex.

randomize and repeat.

and take a walk in the park sometime inbetween.

oh my fleurs!

dreams
are the wings
with which
we soar.

i bought a graduation card for Lenka. that's what is says on the cover. it's really corny, but she loves birds and bird-imagery. there is an eagle flying through a field of clouded paisley.

message inside:

fly high--
a future
of endless
possibilities
awaits.

Congratulations, Graduate.

the message is justified to the right.

why?

just because, okay?

I cleaned out seven bags/purses today. Came up with

• 5 tampons
• 4 pantiliners
• 4 hair accessories
• 1 hairbrush
• 1 bottle of lube (been looking all over!)
• 5 toddler toys of high-interest but low-attachment level
• 1 marker
• 1 crayon
• 2 colored pencils
• 4 pencils
• 5 pens
• 2 magazines (from 2009 and 1962)
  

and here's how pathetically broke-ass I am: between 7 purses and bags, i found a whopping

• twenty cents

I wasn't in it for the money, but, really?

really?

I love you, I really love you.

This one's for my dearest of friends.
To You
--Walt Whitman

Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams,
I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your feet and hands,
Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners,
troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you,
Your true soul and body appear before me.
They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops, work,
farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating, drinking,
suffering, dying.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem,
I whisper with my lips close to your ear.
I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you.

O I have been dilatory and dumb,
I should have made my way straight to you long ago,
I should have blabb'd nothing but you, I should have chanted nothing
but you.

I will leave all and come and make the hymns of you,
None has understood you, but I understand you,
None has done justice to you, you have not done justice to yourself,
None but has found you imperfect, I only find no imperfection in you,
None but would subordinate you, I only am he who will never consent
to subordinate you,
I only am he who places over you no master, owner, better, God,
beyond what waits intrinsically in yourself.

Painters have painted their swarming groups and the centre-figure of all,
From the head of the centre-figure spreading a nimbus of gold-color'd light,
But I paint myriads of heads, but paint no head without its nimbus
of gold-color'd light,
From my hand from the brain of every man and woman it streams,
effulgently flowing forever.

O I could sing such grandeurs and glories about you!
You have not known what you are, you have slumber'd upon yourself
all your life,
Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time,
What you have done returns already in mockeries,
(Your thrift, knowledge, prayers, if they do not return in
mockeries, what is their return?)

The mockeries are not you,
Underneath them and within them I see you lurk,
I pursue you where none else has pursued you,
Silence, the desk, the flippant expression, the night, the
accustom'd routine, if these conceal you from others or from
yourself, they do not conceal you from me,
The shaved face, the unsteady eye, the impure complexion, if these
balk others they do not balk me,
The pert apparel, the deform'd attitude, drunkenness, greed,
premature death, all these I part aside.

There is no endowment in man or woman that is not tallied in you,
There is no virtue, no beauty in man or woman, but as good is in you,
No pluck, no endurance in others, but as good is in you,
No pleasure waiting for others, but an equal pleasure waits for you.As for me, I give nothing to any one except I give the like carefully
to you,
I sing the songs of the glory of none, not God, sooner than I sing
the songs of the glory of you.

Whoever you are! claim your own at any hazard!
These shows of the East and West are tame compared to you,
These immense meadows, these interminable rivers, you are immense
and interminable as they,
These furies, elements, storms, motions of Nature, throes of apparent
dissolution, you are he or she who is master or mistress over them,
Master or mistress in your own right over Nature, elements, pain,
passion, dissolution.

The hopples fall from your ankles, you find an unfailing sufficiency,
Old or young, male or female, rude, low, rejected by the rest,
whatever you are promulges itself,
Through birth, life, death, burial, the means are provided, nothing
is scanted,
Through angers, losses, ambition, ignorance, ennui, what you are
picks its way.

honey, I am tired.

and Delilah's latest post is incredible. I am so jealous.

I did leave a comment about Chuck (remember that, Ollie?), but I may work on that story in greater detail for y'all. It explains my pre-Matrix, pre-Columbine Murders aversion to loose, dark trenchcoats.

freedom

freedom from or freedom to . . .

"freedom from" is from the negative stuff, like from illegal search and seizure.

"freedom to" is the to participate in, create, engage, be proactive, like to petition the government.

yes, we have been discussing the bill of rights at school.

i had the students rank their favorites, and Lenka's was #9. I had summarized it as "But that's not all!"

we all get the freedom from part at a young age. but what do you relish the freedom to do?

I am free to love, to express myself, to wander Lincoln Square for hours without feeling too guilty since the boys are with the Gnom-bot anyway. Free to let myself go, free FROM harassing myself into a negative space.

prayer

sometimes people to whom I am supposedly close, they don't know what matters most to me. and then, my sister-in-law's grandmother, who reminds me so much of my departed Grammy, tells me she's been thinking about me, and I ask her to pray for me. which is so crazy considering. . . i left the catholic church "officially" in 2004 when I lost babyeike . . . and she is old school with a capital K in the middle of school . ..

but I pray for god, however we can define it, to be my strength.

if you haven't prayed in awhile, and you've been thinking, worrying about me, give something new a shot. say a prayer! as my denomination has posited, "Is God keeping you from going to church?" -- my lack of a comprehensible god has kept me from praying for years now . . . i follow along with a minister's prayer, and i hook into the essence of god now and then, usually when i am worried that i am about to pass out and die (i've come close, you know). . . here's my prayer, you can pray it too, till you hear the words God has been telling you.

Let God be my Strength, I'll take it; I'll use it,
Let God be my Air my Food my Water my Thoughts my Ears my Mind my Motor my Ink
my Mind my Skin my Shelter.
Let God be my Body my Spirit my Companion my ledge to wedge along my Love
my Connection my Care my Joy

God, let God be my Patience, my Compassion my Blanket
my Filter my Paper my Rest my Amusement
Let God be Relief, a comforting touch, a soft kiss, a fifty dollar bill,
a well-earned wrinkle, a kinky gray hair

Let God be my Rock, my Friend, my Destination/my Journey
let God set me forth on my journey back home to god life earth salt light sincerity.

God be my Strength. God be my Weight. God be my Reps and my Rest between Sets.

God be blasphemer, pornographer, whore.
God, teach me beyond this Enough what awaits is, More.
More to feel More to love More to look on and hear; more to take without guilt, more to give without fear.

God accept me.
God keep me, or if ya think, let me go-
God send Me out soon to be
a Lamp in the darkness and guide Our circle home.

on being, and being with, a —

jameson and bacardi . . . not a good combo! I can not hold my liquor. WHY did I take that shot? total peer pressured, already too tipsy to think it through moment. one of the many ways in which I am a pussy. at least i had the mind to puke a portion of it up before the trip home.

now, I don't use this word in a derogatory fashion too often, because I love my pussy. It's fantastic. But, what do I do about someone who is, ya know, kinda being one? A wimp, a not-macho-enough-even-by-my-embarrassingly-low-standards young gentleman? I call this fellow young, when he is in fact older than I. But never married, no kids, never even lived with someone or thought about engagement? As my dearest Jameson&Soda slurping whore said last night, "Every time you say that he's nice I wanna punch him in the face!"

I told him to buy me a dress and he got me a souvenir magnet. Last night I asked for a motorcycle, or a Vespa, but I don't think he'll deliver.

• The plan for Thursday, is that I get divorced and get my real last name back. That's awesome, right? I've been using it since the start of the school year . . . it'll feel good for it to be furreal though.
• Thank you, David, at the Clark/Lake Starbucks, for giving me the worst free coffee of my life. i was a hot mess and you let me in after close. put the $5 tip toward some sexy sunglasses.
• must.sober.up.before.work.
• planting (metaphorical and non-) seeds with students this afternoon.
• I think I'd be awesome at racquetball.
  

good feelings

I fell into a fresh start. never meant to feel this good on a Monday morning. that's part of the charm. today is a big day. and I am unafraid.

teach me to spit

teach me to spit
skip stones and shit

seem to not care
take the tough dare

brother
big brother
come home from school early

cherish my innocence
scratch my itch

i love you i love you
but you can't really know me

yet, or ever?

be a good little non-materialistic non-traditional feminist

and don't ask for anything beyond the state mandated 28% of your ex's income for child support.

I don't think so! May 7th is so close and yet so far away.

I was telling José the gardener, who presently has his own marital and legal problems, La cosa mas importante de la vida es amor amor amor. Mi esposo, el no cree en l'amor sin condiciones. No quiere a luchar ahora, y a beneficiar tarde, en la futura.
--Tu esposo no regresso?? (incredulously)
--No. he's done.
--Loco.
--I know, right!? No quiere essayer. No entiende que en eso momento, Hay mucho estresso, mucho trabaja con los hijos . ..
--Es la verdad, Catalina. Lo se. Puedes prestarme con un numero de Social Security?
--No, lo siento. pero tienes un bueno Pasqual con sus ninos!

and now you know why Dora begs me to not speak Spanish to her!

Going bowling tonight if I get our taxes done after school. What a treat! Have to find just the right ass-pants for it (for tax-time. Bowling pants are easy to choose).

Question

When you are talking to someone on Thursday, and you already have plans for Saturday with said person . . . are you not supposed to ask what they're doing on Friday night?

Clearest Clear Midnight Ever

I love this site, its concept; it will change the way I teach poetry.

I know, back to work, K.

Misson Failed, and yet, I am accomplished.

I did practically nothing on that Spring Break list. I did a lot of other equally inspiring, relaxing and enjoyable things, though. I:

• Bought a lot of clothes.
  
• Checked my phone obsessively less often than I'd expected.
  
• Earned a certificate and a sticker in a self-designed program.
• Continued my tradition of making friends everywhere I go.
• Made a list of music to explore.
• Ate at Monty's with my sweet sweet baby.
  

I certainly did walk as much or more than I had set out to do, and I am feeling it in the shins! Can't wait for some of Ollie's pics from the weekend. She is the resident photog.

Also learned that the pics of me passing out during the musical interlude of Ollie's nuptials exist in J's files someplace. YAY! While the other photog, K, said she stopped shooting right away. I love them both for their choices. J was like, "I am NOT missing this. This must be documented." and K was like, "Oh, that's embarrassing, I wouldn't want my picture taken if I was passing out." Please remember to give the word out the Wisconsin oa sound, like how we normal persons say "oat."

Confession: I totally said, "you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life" to a girl on her bachelorette night by the Dane.

Confession: I smoked/shared a pack of cigs in 2 days.

Self-congratulatory moment: I totally paid for a book that I had slipped into my bag for the sake of consolidation whilst trying on clothing at urban.

Confession: I was not all there when I got back to work on Monday.

Here it is now on Tuesday, and I am ready to roll. We are going to hit the Walt Whitman hard this afternoon. One of my students wrote this totally transcendent piece yesterday, and it was such the teachable moment. Gotta get her into some American Lit now. Her parents are conservatice, would most likely prefer she read Blake, which has its merits, of course. and, it can be "out there" at times. hmm . .. . maybe I'll do that too on Thursday.

I am saving the Solar System for after Easter. This week we'll just do a little writing and talking about Earth and Sky in general.

I am still so grateful to be a mom, a teacher, and, as one fellow hosteller put it, "a funky mom." Got told I look 25 years old again, too! Is that some kind of a pickup line or what?

Off to peruse Leaves of Grass once again . . .

march 30th is . . .

today is his birthday (#39)/11th anniversary of our marriage. how do i feel about it i just don't know. disappointed and relieved that i at least know what the future holds for me, to some degree, i suppose. i have felt so unsure of our relationship, and like i was giving changing growing the best i could without getting what i need back.
so, at least i don't have that knot in my stomach this time. happy fucking birthday

Yes, it is gay. And I like it.

Far-away, close-to-my-heart friend Misty blogged about it, and apparently had negative feedback. Bah! I heart Earth Hour. I shut everything off, gave the dog an extra treat, and went to bed with the kiddos at 8:30.

Woke up to accumulation of snow on the ground this a.m. and decided against the trek to church. speaking of treks, gotta figure out my trip to madcity. and pack up the boises for a week with their dad. strange times.

JCMAG

JustCallMeAcronymGirl. Apparently I use acronyms and abbreviations too frequently. It is not as if I am trying to talk less--I actually fill that space with more nonsense than I would have were I to speak in regular words.

My car is a P.O.S.
Do you need an I.E.P. meeting? Is that part of your I.E.P.?
Let me drop you off at the eL. (that one's fine, i think.)
I went to UW (to the non-midwesterner, this could mean WI, WA, Warsaw, WY).
I am certified to teach canine (K-9: kindergarten through ninth grade). woof.
CYA/CMA--involves covering of one's or another's arse.

So, FYI (for your information), if you see the phrase STBX, it means "soon to be ex" however I intend to not vent too much about him online or "IRL" as not too much good comes from it. Best bet is a good friend on the other end of the phone, hearing the latest and telling me what a total jackass he is.

Have a lovely, rainy rainy night. My tulips might just make it this season!

change o'planz

I don't think I can make it down to the sunshine like I wanted to. Cuzza money, cuzza lack o'companion, cuzza time squeeze. We have decided to have a fantabulous weekend in The People's Republic of Madison, instead.

Here are some priorities for Spring Break 2009
1/ Swim in a pleasant pool
2/ Relax in a hot tub
3/ Get UV rays by any means necessary
4/ Get drunk with Ollie and drive everyone in our immediate area nuts
5/ Karaoke
6/ Send postcards to readers (send your addy to katjoiri at gmail)
7/ Be gone from the Hurst on March 30
8/ Visit 2 different UU congregations
9/ Write lyrics/poem for 3 pieces, and music for 2 at a minimum
10/Be a daily winner on Dee's art blog
11/Practice mindfulness and yoga daily (thirty minute minimum)
12/Walk 3 miles per day (minimum) (then the hottub, tanning and pool are okay, right?)

time time time

all the time

i feel like i just don't know what else i ought to be doing

i have these priorities in mind, but even the act of eating is so lonesome

i have fun plans ahead, but i don't know how to get to the future--i am just so IN it.

entrenched in time, that i don't want right now but will be glad to be done with.

seriously, how are YOU?

daniel johnston comes to mind

it must have been
it must have been
it must have been a happy time

time

time

time

writing a letter, thinking of the future, trying like heck to be in the present, reconciling the past

truly

I am like whoa.

This man blew me away when he spoke at UTUUC last year--then he officiated the wedding of some friends in September and I know they didn't get where he was coming from. This is just what I have been thinking about and I am so happy to have the words now.

No word verification required

I have been advised that it's been too difficult to leave comments. So, that was your excuse till now. Now, "anyone" can comment, it is unmoderated, and you don't have to do the swirlyword either. If it doesn't work for you, email me.

Aren't you tired?

I am truly worn out. And I don't have any negative feelings attached to this tiredness. Mentally, physically, emotionally fatigued. Growing up is serious business.

"Is tomorrow a Big Day?"

My mother often told me, "Tomorrow is a Big Day" when I really needed to get my rest. It usually made it even more difficult to get to sleep on those nights. Perhaps we were going to the amusement park, attending multiple parties, taking an important test and so on . .. she must have said it a lot to my little guy, too. A three-year-old Baby Bear asked me that question one night as I snuggled him to sleep. I was floored.

Tomorrow is a Big Day. I am going to work for the morning shift, and administering Linguistically Modified State Tests to my students. Also figuring out what-the-heck-to-do while the rest of the school takes many more tests than they are required to do (ELLs do Math only, no Reading, Writing or Science). I think we'll look at this National Geographic about animal cognition, and possible metacognition that I've been saving for a lull.

Facebook Fast

Although I am no longer a "faithful" Catholic in the Church's sense, I am most certainly "culturally" Catholic, and I do believe in Jesus' message and life mission, as I understand it. Jesus preached love, connectivity, forgiveness, and the right to start anew. The idea of "loving our neighbors" is more complicated in the 21st century, considering we are on this Hot, Flat, and Crowded planet Earth. We are all neighbors. Especially with the internet playing such an important role in our daily routines (yeah, you, blog-reader), I need to think about whether I am connecting with others online, or if I am disconnecting with the people who are right here with me.

Rather than be fully engaged with my 2 1/2 year old son after we drop his brother off at school in the morning, I often set him up with a toy to occupy him, or more lazily with a TV show "on demand," so that I may view Facebook pages and peer into the lives of friends and acquaintances with whom I'd otherwise have practically no contact. I can handily rationalize a mom's need to escape for half an hour a morning (and sometimes longer). This is often a good thing. Lately, however, I began to feel that it was not. I was unplugged from the real people in my life, and just snooping on people I don't really know anymore, or perhaps I never did.

I don't mind if only one or two people take a look at my postings, maybe zero. I have put this "out there" for personal reasons. If it resonates with you, if we read something in each other that we otherwise would not have known, that matters. You are reading the blog, and commenting if you choose to comment, for your own personal reasons.

Lent, the season preceding Easter, is a time to cut away the things that keep you from God. For me, the false sense of "community" I encounter and in which I participate when I use Facebook keeps me from God, keeps me from the God in You. There are a few friendships that I have renewed and revitalized because of the Facebook connection. I am grateful for this, and if you are one of those folks, I do not intend to lose touch with you. I value you.

I want to take this season, which began the day after my 33rd birthday, to contemplate the here and now. I still want to have fun, I still want to see old "Heart Hop" pictures and connect with people. I just can't take it every day! I also can't allow it to take me, the way it has these past couple of months.

Blessings & Hope to you! Please leave a comment, let me know what resonates with you.

Morning!

I have all sortsa ideas, don't know what to do with them yet. Ollie says it's a song. She's right. It's going to be a beautiful weekend.

as my own ideas gestate . . .

check out Al Sharpton being awesome.

Hey, I fixed the link today!

how is this possible?

--that it isn't until I need to get a concrete definition for felching, that I learn I share a birthday with Steve Jobs?

Born to be MILD

Oh, my. my, do NOT try and live vicariously through me, people in committed relationships. Are you freaking kidding me? Like, who in their right minds thinks that I am sexy? Totally desperate perverts, that's who. So, sorry to alienate you like that. I don't mean to insult you by calling you a totally desperate pervert if you find me attractive. But, SHOOT. Have ya MET me? I am so frakking dorky, awkward, unaware-yet-under-confident, overly trusting, bitchy--I am either a total bore and low-esteem girl, or act like I am so f'n awesome and hurt feelings.

M's couch is uncomfortable to sleep on, even for a couch. And she and her bf are honorable, silly, loving people.

karate chop from the soul

Were his ideas that good? Was it his handsome, yet casual appearance? Dude had me at "Refugee Camp." Tried as I could, I was unable to poke a hole in his mental karate. Yes, you read it correctly mental karate. I need this in my life, even more so than I need/ought to implement Mawi's ideas with my students. I was taught in Graduate School (for Education) to be weary, leery and righteously freaked out by motivational speakers and character education. I am. So is Mawi. And yet, it is his life work. hmmm. Mental Karate. To earn my "white belt" I must . . . take initiative.

Initiative is lonely thing for a newly-single co-dependent like me. It hurts. It's like starting a research paper on a topic you dislike. and are afraid of. I just spend so much time in this cycle of self-hating that the fact that I put Tuesday's dishes away on Wednesday evening felt like an accomplishment. Then it didn't, because it's just doing some basic housekeeping that my peers do without fanfare or much thought. I almost quit twice. Not because I had been distracted (which I often am), but because I just don't like doing stuff alone. If I had a friend on the phone with me at the time, I would have finished the dishes and folded laundry. What goal do I set for myself, for my white belt--something attainable, yet not completely within reach without my taking the inital steps necessary. And how will I do this? Will you hold me accountable? Will you smash up this mental karate thing instead and stop my progress or send me in another direction? Will it be right for me? Mental Karate. sounds and feels wrong. But I still feel I need this guidance. I am eager to read Mawi's memoir--Of Beetles and Angels. He signed it for me and it turns out he ran track against a friend of mine in high school, the shaggy blond-haired one. He loves the lake by our old track.

Welcome and Gracias, Grace, Come Well.

For all kinds of reasons, I have started and ended blogs over the past six years. Self-judgement, fear of rejection and criticism, etc. This time around I have been as careful as I can about anonymity. I get annoyed at some bloggers with the way they refer to their kids, jobs, spouses, lovers friends and whatnot--but you all know what is up in my life and the risks I can not take. I thank and love you folks, you are a lifeline for me.

What is yoyoabandonado? Well, yesterday in school, I read a story with my dear "Dora"--it is called the bracelet--a haunting and brief account of a second grade girl who is forced to leave her berkely, ca home in 1942 (japanese-american internment camps). We were talking about the locations in the story, and how they illustrate the feelings of the characters. When I asked Dora about how the dusty, empty horse's stalls where the family would be living showed how the family felt, she offered the Spanish word abandonado. This is one of those rare instances where the English language had fewer words to describe a feeling than the Spanish. Usually it is the other way around. And so we couldn't decide on the best English word for abandonado: the Spanish does it better.

Yo-yo's are toys, and yo is the Spanish word for I--sometimes I feel abandonada, too. Often in a yo-yo way. Ups and downs like mad. and of course guilt comes with the logic that I know I have so much to be grateful for. So I need to just greet that desperation, that hopelessness and neglect some days--Hi there. I am not surprised to see you yet again. But I am going to get some stuff done today. You can come along with me if you like, but I must warn you--I am going to have to ignore you.

My mind is like a game with conflicting rules. Midwest rules?