Fish needs bicycle

Last spring, I taught Transnational Feminisms. Which was *wonderful*--but you know, they were the choir, there was absolutely no need to preach.

This year, I begged to be assigned the introductory Women’s Studies course with some romantic activist notion of grooming forty feminists out of a cohort of “my advisor says I have to take this course to graduate.”

Yeah. You know how this is going already. There were so many assertions of post-feminism and accusations of “reading too much into things.”

Until this: http://twitter.com/rulesforgirls

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Old friends and older teachers

My high school FB group posted a newspaper article about our old P.E. teacher. And although I used to be terrified of her (mostly because of her somewhat bossy habit of checking if we were indeed wearing regulation bloomers under our Catholic school uniforms), it made me really nostalgic for days when my main fear was about getting picked to shoot hoops.

And on the same FB group page, an appeal for funds for another teacher whose husband has dementia. The end of Goodbye Mr. Chips always made me cry, and this does too.

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Report

A clue that maybe listening to a lot of classical music

can make you a little too laidback:

"There will be snow tomorrow, mostly between the hours of 2 a.m. and 11 p.m."

Dude. Kind of unhelpful, you know.

Anyway. I’ve always wanted to ice-skate—

and today, I did.

A beautiful, curlicue “q”.

On the way to school/preschool/work,

in our sweet-silly, snub-nosed car.

Baby A squealed;

Li’l A gasped;

I trembled.

Fair to say we were all really surprised

and delighted/ excited /

outright panicked.

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Questionnaire

Standing in the middle of all time

Ghosts and maharajas stare

We maintain tunes

Cartoons

The midday limbers

Like painted cake

Are you well?

Did you eat?

These twisted bases

are all alike

and all wrong

so I like them all

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R.O. T. C. / Child

Tell me if we’re bringing you down

Taking back the beautiful invitation

To drop in upon those nations

Class = common noun

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Read

Falling into holes

to keep on dancing

yes, keep on dancing

 

this common bird

sees love beyond

your ability to love

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All by myself

My awesome M.I.L. came over to take the kids off to a sleepover at her place. 

I can't imagine that I did, but I must have looked wistful as I tugged mittens over my little kid kittens, because she asked if I was going to be okay. 

That made me break out in a huge smile because--What!? Are you kidding me?! 

But I gave her a big wink and said in my hammiest voice--I'll be ok, I'll find a way to manage.

But just to be sure, I texted Big A who's finishing up his charts at the E.R.:

"Safe to come home. Kids gone."

It's a movie and dive bar kinda night. If. 

IF Big A comes home soon.

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