I love the South...I hate the South...I love the South...I hate the South...

I don't know why I think this won't happen every time I return to the South but it does.

Let me clarify - ever since moving back up to Buffalo or "above the Mason-Dixon line" as many people have called it, I've been waiting for an excuse to move back or at least visit the South. There are many friends and family members that offer us that opportunity, especially since my parents have decided to retire in Tennessee. Even though we can't afford to travel to visit people as often as we would like, we try to do so on a regular basis.

Knowing that we would be spending a month traversing much of Louisiana and some of Tennessee (along with all the routes between those locations) I have been looking forward to this trip for quite some time. When it was still snowing in April I wanted to leave right then and there. When it was 64 degrees one day the first week of July (somewhat of an anomaly but annoying nonetheless) I was ready to tear my hair out, leave my job, and move down south to work at Wal-Mart with the hope that at least thawing out would make my life less soul-crushing.

Items on my list I had been looking forward to: Community coffee, a slower pace of life, faster speed limits on the interstate, beignets, southern-style cooking, our friends - Hunter and Cami's - wedding, seeing friends and family, Popeye's, Sonic, warmth, sweet tea, Albert's hot sauce, New Orleans (for a myriad of reasons too numerous and ephemeral to mention here), Super Wal-marts, a list of other favorite foods that I can't even remember but can't wait to sink my teeth into (despite the inevitable weight gain), people who are actually polite (god forbid), everything fried, and a host of other things that I'm forgetting.

Items I had forgotten that I hate about the south: more obvious racism than up North, Bible-thumpers and "Jesus Krispies," the pandemic of passive aggressiveness that infuses most conversations (everyone's polite but they may stab you in the back and you'll never know it), massive traffic, the heat (I can't breathe when I walk outside due to asthma), blind-knee-jerk conservatives (I don't care if you're conservative as long as you've done your research and have well-thought-out reasoning - I hold all liberals to the same standard), Super Wal-marts, vegetables that taste like meat (though Billy says that's the only way he really likes them), everything fried, and a bunch of other things that I'm probably forgetting.

The bottom line is that I don't feel like I fit in anywhere anymore.

When I'm in Buffalo, I feel like I'm just waiting - like I'm not living there, just visiting. I don't move fast enough for life up there and I don't play the society/political games that a lot of people participate in. Though I appreciate the hippy-dippyism, I would prefer that people in Buffalo focus less on whether or not their food has been purchased from an organic, local grower and more on the fact that their city is an economic black hole. (I'm sorry but Bass Pro Shops is not a panacea. Get over it people.)

When I'm down here, specifically in Louisiana since I consider myself to be partially from Louisiana since I lived here for about 7 years, I feel like I haven't reset to the pace yet. Have you ever had one of those days when you feel like you're running a few seconds faster or slower than everyone else? It's like that but all the time here. I also tend to be a bit more direct and eschew the passive-aggressive way of conversing down here which tends to get me weird looks and causes me to walk away from most conversations feeling awkward and wondering what I could have said differently. I also have to bite my tongue. A LOT.

All in all, this has been a good vacation/trip so far but it reminds me that I still feel like a visitor wherever I go. Since we're not "settling down" anywhere until Billy finishes the PhD I suppose I'll have to get used to that. Oh well. In the meantime, I'll enjoy eating my way through Louisiana.


Billy's Breakfast This Morning: Bananas Foster French Toast

PS - The title of this post is courtesy of one of Billy's former professors at Ole Miss. It was his summary of every Faulkner novel ever written. I thought it was fitting.

Succumbing to Peer Pressure

I decided to break down and fill out the famous "25 Random Things About Me" note from Facebook. It actually turned out pretty well so I've posted it below:

25 Random things about me that I avoided posting until now, but since everyone else has taken the time to do it, I feel compelled to join the lemmings:

1.) One of my guilty pleasures is dance movies, especially ballet ones. Even better are when the ballet dancers make forays into hip hop and/or ice skating. Another guilty pleasure is to sop up Olive Garden dressing with a breadstick. Yet a third is emptying the lint trap.

2.) I dream of writing and publishing a novel.

3.) I am terribly insecure and have very low self-esteem. As a result I am constantly and probably unnecessarily worried about what other people think of me.

4.) Playing the piano is the only thing I can screw up at that doesn’t bother me. I took lessons for two years in high school and I’m pretty bad but it helps me to de-stress. (Unfortunately, all I have is a crappy, old-school keyboard that is in the attic right now.)

5.) I have an uncanny and completely useless ability to construct small costumes for my stuffed turkey. I also excel at creating animals out of garbage bags (ask me about the activities board in college.)

6.) I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be shorter.

7.) For some reason, I still enjoy being tall, even though I complain about it a lot. And even though it’s difficult to find pants that are long enough and size 12 shoes.

8.) Somehow, I knew I would end up marrying my husband before we even started dating.

9.) I am extremely clumsy but, if you choreograph something for me, I can manage to be graceful.

10.) I bake when I’m stressed. For some reason, measuring things out and following a recipe helps to calm me down. Unfortunately, that’s also why I’m overweight.

11.) I would probably be a vegetarian if it weren’t for chicken fingers. And bacon. Damn you tasty animals.

12.) When I was a kid I wanted to be a librarian just to have an excuse to be around books all day.

13.) Instead of an imaginary friend I had an imaginary older sister because I was kind of lonely being an only child.

14.) I think I’m a southerner at heart and can’t wait to move back there.

15.) My husband is my best friend and the highlight of my day is coming home and talking to him about my day and asking him about his.

16.) I am very, very observant. I frequently try to hide this for fear that I will say too much or say the wrong thing. I have a hard time believing when people say they didn’t notice something and often wonder if they’re just playing dumb. As a result of this ability, I often have to pretend to be surprised about something when I’m really not.

17.) My husband proposed in Paris and it was the second most romantic thing he did for me (although it was pretty impressive.) The first most romantic thing he’s done for me is to show up on my doorstep when I was sick with a can of soup, a carton of orange juice, a pint of Godiva ice cream, and a rose he picked/stole from a garden on our college campus.

18.) I have a bad habit of chewing the skin around my nails. For some reason I leave the nails alone, but I can’t stand when my cuticles peel.

19.) I really want to have children one day but, right now, I often cringe when I see a child in public. Working at an all-girls high school and hearing screeching voices throughout the day is quite possibly the best birth control ever invented.

20.) I am a major Francophile. I want to live in France again one day though preferably not in Lille which is grayer and windier than Buffalo. As much as I bitched and moaned every day that I lived there, I think about it with nostalgia almost every day since I’ve been back. And that was nearly 5 years ago.

21.) I know way more than I should about football. I started watching it when I was tutoring student-athletes at Ole Miss because it made it easier to relate to them. Now it’s become a bit of an obsession. For example, I should not know that the spread offense is impressive in college but does not always allow a quarterback to easily transition into the NFL.

22.) I have a list of several jobs that I would like to do at least once if I had the chance. They are: stand-up comedian; actress; screenplay writer; jazz/blues singer (particularly if I get to lounge on a piano); professional badminton player; crime scene investigator; FBI agent.

23.) I grew up Catholic and went to Catholic school which results in a lot of guilt and a great desire for structure and organization. I secretly yearn for that environment again even though I disagree so strongly with pretty much everything the church believes in.

24.) I have seen every episode of the following shows: Golden Girls, Charmed, The Cosby Show, Medium, CSI (reruns – I have to catch up on this season), That 70s Show, and The X-Files. In fact, I can give you the name of an X-Files episode and the season in which it takes place based solely on Scully’s hairstyle.

25.) I can’t grow my hair longer than an inch or two below my shoulders. I’ve tried. It doesn’t work.

26.) I don’t always follow the rules, as much as it may seem like I try to. I just couldn’t resist. :)

...and again

Those of you who check my blog when I bother to update it know that I must be up in arms right now since - god forbid - I'm making two posts in two nights. However, I'm frustrated and sad and angry and have no idea how to deal with it other than to toss it all out onto the page in a jumbled mess and hope that it at least weighs on my mind less heavily.

Today Billy and I decided to run some errands at the local mall. No big deal, right? I needed a few more shirts for work and those of you who know me well are aware of what a pain it is for me, a 6'1" female, to find clothing that fits properly so this was actually a somewhat annoying trip to begin with. Unable to find what I was looking for, we decided to head home. Weaving our way through the mall, we came to a sort of roadblock. There was a woman pushing a stroller and, simultaneously, attempting to drag her toddler along with her. He was much more interested in the sticker he had just found and was trying to apply it to his shirt. At the same time, a few paces ahead, a group of about six teenage boys were fooling around, joking with each other, and one of them had been shoving his friend which blocked the pathway for both Billy and me and the woman and her child.

Hoping to get out of the way of the whole group, I muttered an, "Excuse me," and tried to scoot by two of the boys and outpace the woman with the stroller when one of the boys was nearly shoved into me. At that point, another one of the group said, "Careful, these McCain voters would like to get through."

(Did I mention these young men were black? I was concerned about even bringing it up since, by even recounting this incident, I run the risk of sounding racist. However, in this case, I suppose I have to mention it to provide context for the story. As an aside, the woman and her son were very white and she looked like she was afraid of the group of boys which didn't help our situation any.)

I whirled around, shocked, turned in the direction of the voice and firmly stated, "Excuse me, but I voted for Obama." I then proceeded to storm off, not really paying attention to whether or not Billy was behind me. When he caught up with me he said that one of the boys had pointed to the aforementioned speaker and said, "It was him, man." To which Billy replied, "I voted for Obama too," before coming after me. I was fuming and trying not to cry at the same time.

On the way home, Billy told me that the one kid looked kind of suprised that I talked back to him and his friends kind of stared at him like he was dumb for even saying anything so I suppose I feel a little better about that. I keep thinking about all the things I wanted to say instead. Like, "Apparently you're unaware that a comment like that will likely result in resistance since Bush currently has a mere 26% approval rating." Or, "How old are you? Can you even vote yet? No? Then don't tell me who I voted for." Or even, "Yeah, right. Did you even know who Barack Obama was three years ago? Well, I did. And I supported him then. Have you read his book? No? Well I have. Perhaps your time would be better spent doing that than harrassing people you don't know in a crappy suburban mall. And, quite honestly, just because you're black and I'm not doesn't mean you have any more of a claim to President-elect Obama than I do, especially since, as a uniter, he would frown upon your actions right now. So go get your shit together and then come talk to me."

I don't have a hell of a lot more to say except that I hope my tiny, pathetic, little retort made him think for a millisecond. And maybe that millisecond will turn into a whole minute and then an hour and then, just maybe, he'll do something productive with his time.

Well, I don't feel much better but at least I've gotten this off my chest.

Sigh

I didn't quite know what to name this post so that pretty much covers it. I also am unsure as to whether I'll actually post it or not but, assuming I do, I'm exhausted tonight so I apologize if my writing is a bit lackluster.

Today was supposed to be a good day. The presidential candidate I had voted for and supported was elected and, last night, I think I slept better than I have for the past four years. Not only did I feel relieved about our country's choice for our next president, but I also felt hope about the direction we're going in for the first time in what feels like forever. Hell, even John McCain gave a classy concession speech which was reminiscent of John McCain before the Bush administration took over in 2000 - the John McCain I would have considered voting for.

The morning went fairly well. I was tired from staying up late to watch the election (and, in addition, we were at my cousin's party for his election as Niagara County Sheriff until 11:30 and then had to drive for half an hour to get home) but I was happy. I even gave out leftover Halloween candy to my Autobiography students as incentives to read their journals aloud since I was feeling generous.

And then came lunch.

Well, actually, I almost didn't make it to lunch because of all the drama that lay in my path to the cafeteria. Eight of my seniors stormed into the classroom fuming and demanding that something be done about "this." "This" turned out to be a status update that one of the freshmen had made to her Facebook page. The update said, "The white house is called the white house for a reason!!!!!" (I've quoted it exactly, right down to the five exclamation points.) In addition to this, there was a flood of follow-up comments, some along the lines of what the original writer had to say, and others condemning her opinion. For those of you who are familiar with Facebook, you may understand what a heated issue this is based on the fact that there were four pages worth of follow-up comments to a status update.

Granted, I am aware of the fact that, teaching at an all-girls private school, I might occasionally run into some rather, let's say, sheltered individuals. Okay, frankly, some of them have too much time on their hands, too much money in their bank accounts, and too little interest in exploring whether or not agreeing with their parents, without question, is a good idea. This frustrates me.

Today, instead, I was appalled.

I don't even have the words or the stamina to describe how this made me feel and, on top of that, looking at the anger and sadness on the girls' faces over these comments made me want to rip this girl's head off for being ignorant and uninformed and having the gall to mouth off about it in a public forum. The thing that frustrated one of my students the most was that, when questioned, the "commenter's" only explanation for her statement was that "there are only white ppl. there for over 200 yrs." Logical, no? Insert eye-roll here.

Since this entire conversation was in violation of the social honor code (oh, and did I mention that this student also belongs to an online group that bashes and gossips about another girl in her class?) I spoke to the Dean of Students about what the girls had brought to my attention. The school called an impromptu assembly between 6th and 7th period to bring the matter to the school's attention - even though, by that point, it was no secret - and point out that behavior such as this would not be tolerated. They didn't do much, although the "commenter" will be going before the Judicial Review Committee, but the threat was in the air. I disagree with the idea that they may have to block certain elements of internet access since we aim to treat the students as adults and cutting off this type of thing in school just means they'll do it when they're not in school but we may have to resort to that. At least we didn't sweep it under the rug like we have a tendency to want to do, especially since it involves more than one individual.

I guess what I'm saying is that, I knew this type of thing would happen. I knew that not everyone would be as optimistic and forward-looking as I wanted them to be. I knew there would be challenges. But the very next day after the election? Don't we Obama supporters get some chance at a honeymoon period? Can't we enjoy the victory for one freaking day? I guess our country isn't as progressive as we'd like to think we are if this kind of prejudice still exists the day after we elect our first African-American president ever. Ah, irony....

And on top of this, I have to teach this girl in class tomorrow and act like nothing ever happened. When I came home and was yelling about this, my parents, who were visiting to support my cousin, made a good point. They said, "What would Obama do in a situation like this?" I guess I have to remove my emotions from the situation and put the school, the students, and, though difficult, this particular student above my personal opinions because it's what's best for everyone. I will aim to treat her as I have before this information came to a head and press on with teaching grammar, vocabulary, and literature. The main goal of the English Department at Sem is to teach these girls to be eloquent writers and communicators by the time they graduate. Well, if I can't convince this girl to change her point of view, at least I can teach her to argue it with supporting facts, information, and conviction. "Yes we can."

Following your gut instinct when it comes to losing your gut

It looks like I made the right impulse decision for once in my life yesterday. After work, I decided I needed to stop in the gym at the school to do some physical therapy exercises to prevent my useless back from continuing to wake me up in the middle of the night.

(This was in lieu of going to a meeting that was scheduled to re-inform us about the benefits that we should be receiving from the school. Considering that I'm on Billy's stellar "we're sorry you're only a grad student but we're going to make it up to you by giving you better medical insurance than you'll ever have again in your life" plan, I don't need to be "re-informed." That and I'm not eligible to get matching for what I put away for retirement until next year so the only "benefit" I was interested in getting yesterday was a better night of sleep.)

But I digress.

Anyway, when I got there I was talking to our awesome Assistant Athletic Director - slash - Assistant Golf Coach - slash - ridiculously cool Yoga instructor and she invited me to do yoga with the golf team. Now, last year, I would have stayed away from the thought for fear that my students would find me in a compromising position and then proceed to make fun of me and lack respect for me for the rest of the year. This time, though, I went for it.

I'm really glad I did. Not only did I feel better, have fun, and somewhat gain respect in the eyes of my students (it helped that I was more coordinated than most of them), but I also learned how to do a headstand which is a neat thing to be able to pick up in a matter of an hour.


It turns out that I also benefited in other ways. When I came back up to my classroom to pick up my stuff I ran into everybody who had taken the time to go to the benefits meeting. Everyone was aggravated, frustrated, and said that it had been a waste of their time. It looks like my rare decision to go for instant gratification instead of practicality won out for once in my life.

New Year's Resolution

So, today is my birthday. I'm 27. At first, I thought I would be depressed about that because it means that I'm one year closer to the dreaded thirty. It turns out that it's not that bad.

When I woke up today I came to the decision that I'm no longer going to treat January 1st as my new year. My new year is now going to begin on August 27th. It makes sense if you think about where I'm at in my life right now. The academic year begins not long after my birthday (next week) every year and I've always thought of starting school, or work in this case, as a marker for each year. It feels like I have the opportunity for renewal and self-improvement so I'm going to take advantage of it. I have difficulty following through with my New Year's resolutions every year so, maybe, if I shift my new year to my own, personal new year, I'll be more invested in the effort.

I spent much of the day with the intent of starting over. My resolution for this year is to live more in the present. I'm trying to let go of everything that I allow to weigh me down every day - anger, frustration, stress, worry, guilt - and a laundry list of other items that I tell myself are important but really just hold me back. I intend to have reasonable expectations for my own abilities in order to allow myself to achieve something each and every day rather than feeling guilty for not getting enough done. I plan on approaching problems as challenges rather than impossibilities. And, most importantly, I will appreciate myself for who I am and not focus on everything that I am not.

I decided to try and make all of this official with a little visualization this morning. Some of you may find this to be a little too much personal information for you so I recommend averting your eyes now. When I was getting ready in the shower this morning before heading out for a day of pampering courtesy of my friend Kristin (Kristy and Mike - you rock!) I attempted to imagine all of those things that stress me out and weigh me down being rinsed down the drain. Any guilt I felt for not finishing my thesis yet, any stress I had about beginning the new school year, worry about getting stuff ready in time for my students, anger that I hadn't been able to accomplish as much as I thought I should have, fear about financial worries or our future or the future of our country, everything, and more, I pictured running off of me and swirling down the drain. And I felt lighter. I feel lighter.

If it tells you anything about how much of that stuff I've been carrying around with me, the shower got clogged and I ended up standing in about three inches of water by the time I got out.

Coincidence? Maybe. But it worked fine yesterday. And the funny thing is that, when Billy took a shower later today, he didn't have a problem.

Then again, maybe I just desperately need a haircut. :)

Bad Poetry Day

Today is "Bad Poetry Day" so I've decided to write a bad poem. Billy's going to help me. Here we go...


Ode to the Great White Western New York Male

O middle-aged blubbery belly.

I see you glistening horrifically in the partly cloudy light of the Western New York Summer.

It is not that warm, yet you reveal yourself as soon as the weather becomes tolerable, much like the graceful, yet chubby, groundhog sneaks out of his den in fruitless search of his shadow.

I honk. Honk my horn in protest.

For the love of god and all of humanity, put your damn shirt back on you pale-ass freak. Isn't it dangerous to mow the lawn shirtless, anyway?

You white-flight albatross. You haunt me everywhere. My eyes have been sodomized.

Take your buddha belly inside. Please. I'm begging you.

I never thought I would look forward to winter. Thank you for that.

The Western New York Great White Whale
takes a break from doing yardwork to check his mail.
Perhaps his netflix order arrived.