Things that make you go hmmm...
I've decided that now sometimes when I think of things, I'll write in my journal. It's crazy, I know - but stick with me...
Since the advent of Tequila Jane, life has, of course, turned totally upside down. Her velvety baby head and demanding facial expressions have completely derailed all of my plans for self-improvement, carreer advancement, and world domination. (Also, I can't spell career. Carear?)
I just backed away from a huge job because it would mean a month and a half of travel, and I can't bear to be away from her for so long...but now it's unclear how I will be able to maintain my secret superhero identity while tethered to a breast pump at a hateful temp job. (And then of course I have to stop and be grateful - so very grateful - for steady work just when I need it the most. What the hell am I complaining about? The rent is paid! The baby is cute! Mr. Angel was born to be a daddy!)
We had a plan about how we were going to handle these things (mostly: after 3 months we start transitioning to Mr. Angel as primary caregiver while I start bringing home some bacon, and after 6 months I start really working again.) That plan has collapsed in the face of - well, the face of the BABY! Now, when I am actually splashing in the bathtub with her, or counting her toes, or saying "Who is the baby? Are YOU the baby?" into her pretty little ear, I don't have a problem. But when I am not with her, and I realize how much of my sense of self was tied up in my work, I am...a tiny bit crazy.
I am starting to suspect that I am going to need to find a different...thing. To be my thing. So I guess we'll work on that next. And in the meantime, maybe I'll write some more.
In actual journalingish news...
While frantically looking for my shoes this morning, my attention was arrested by a news story about the top three movies of the weekend: The Princess and the Frog, The Blind Side, and Invictus. I'll leave you to figure out what all these movies have in common, and just say, "good job movie-going public!"
On the other hand, I just watched the latest episode of Glee (which as we all know rockets wildly back and forth between delightful and ...not) and was actually sort of stunned by how insanely racist it was.
And no, making fun of the deaf white guy did not make it better, it made it worse (although at least that dude was absurd in the way that the best humor on this show is.)
Why, show, why? Why were the black women portrayed as thieves and cheaters? Why were all their production numbers completely sexual and degrading? Why did "our" black chick, Mercedes, get screwed out of her ballad and then have to say that Rachel was a better choice to step in and save the day? Why was the black judge humorless, bitter and stupid? Why was the black woman running the reform school so craven and weak that she STOLE A WHEELCHAIR NUMBER in order to cheat and win?
I used to sort of dig this show. Now I sort of hate it.
Since the advent of Tequila Jane, life has, of course, turned totally upside down. Her velvety baby head and demanding facial expressions have completely derailed all of my plans for self-improvement, carreer advancement, and world domination. (Also, I can't spell career. Carear?)
I just backed away from a huge job because it would mean a month and a half of travel, and I can't bear to be away from her for so long...but now it's unclear how I will be able to maintain my secret superhero identity while tethered to a breast pump at a hateful temp job. (And then of course I have to stop and be grateful - so very grateful - for steady work just when I need it the most. What the hell am I complaining about? The rent is paid! The baby is cute! Mr. Angel was born to be a daddy!)
We had a plan about how we were going to handle these things (mostly: after 3 months we start transitioning to Mr. Angel as primary caregiver while I start bringing home some bacon, and after 6 months I start really working again.) That plan has collapsed in the face of - well, the face of the BABY! Now, when I am actually splashing in the bathtub with her, or counting her toes, or saying "Who is the baby? Are YOU the baby?" into her pretty little ear, I don't have a problem. But when I am not with her, and I realize how much of my sense of self was tied up in my work, I am...a tiny bit crazy.
I am starting to suspect that I am going to need to find a different...thing. To be my thing. So I guess we'll work on that next. And in the meantime, maybe I'll write some more.
In actual journalingish news...
While frantically looking for my shoes this morning, my attention was arrested by a news story about the top three movies of the weekend: The Princess and the Frog, The Blind Side, and Invictus. I'll leave you to figure out what all these movies have in common, and just say, "good job movie-going public!"
On the other hand, I just watched the latest episode of Glee (which as we all know rockets wildly back and forth between delightful and ...not) and was actually sort of stunned by how insanely racist it was.
And no, making fun of the deaf white guy did not make it better, it made it worse (although at least that dude was absurd in the way that the best humor on this show is.)
Why, show, why? Why were the black women portrayed as thieves and cheaters? Why were all their production numbers completely sexual and degrading? Why did "our" black chick, Mercedes, get screwed out of her ballad and then have to say that Rachel was a better choice to step in and save the day? Why was the black judge humorless, bitter and stupid? Why was the black woman running the reform school so craven and weak that she STOLE A WHEELCHAIR NUMBER in order to cheat and win?
I used to sort of dig this show. Now I sort of hate it.