Thursday, March 20, 2008

Remembering Nietzsche

Yesterday, in a student essay, I read this quote, attributed to Friedrich Nietzsche “The most common lie is that which one lies to himself; lying to others is relatively an exception.”

And I smiled.

Remember discovering Nietzsche? Remember endlessly quoting Nietzsche? Remember being unabashedly smart and twenty-something and certain that all of the grown-ups were too concerned about the wrong things. Remember quoting Nietzsche to [or about] your parents?

These memories are such fond ones for me. I loved my twenty-something self. My friends and I gobbled up philosphy and literature, the more snotty and inaccessible, the better. We drank cheap red wine or cheaper draft beer from the taps whose hoses we were certain were coated with mold. We swore we could taste it. Our favorite club had fuzzy wallpaper and too-little ventilation. Even the non-smokers were red-eyed by the end of the night, which was at about 3 a.m. most weekends. Nietzsche was an important part of this scene; he even worked his way into our poetry, often written on bar napkins.

There are so many great Nietzsche quotes like “Insanity in individuals is something rare - but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule,” and “Fear is the mother of morality,” and “People who have given us their complete confidence believe that they have a right to ours. The inference is false, a gift confers no rights.”

So I smiled when I read the Nietzsche quote in Mike’s paper. “Right on time,” I thought, and I penned “love it” in the margin. And I do love it…”The most common lie is that which one lies to himself; lying to others is relatively an exception. ” It’s a great quote, and I’m glad Mike discovered it.
 
I’m sure he was, as I was, led to Nietzsche by a super-cool friend, a boy who wears too much black, whose hair is too long or who has too many piercings.

That boy was in my classroom a few years ago, quoting both Nietzsche and Jung and peppering his paper with references to the Superman and the Shadow Self that only I understood. He liked it that way. He liked to feel that he was, as Jane Austen would say, “a cut above the company” in the freshman comp classroom. Mike has this air about him too, as I sure did I back in my Nietzsche-quoting days.

But, I later discovered, Nietzsche was also a bit of a dick. He was terribly brutal in his thoughts about women. He said things like, “Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent,” and “Behind all their personal vanity, women themselves always have an impersonal contempt for woman,” and “For the woman, the man is a means: the end is always the child.”

He was also somewhat xenophobic: “‘Evil men have no songs.’ How is it that the Russians have songs?” and “An artist has no home in Europe except in Paris .”

And clearly anti-religion: “After coming into contact with a religious man I always feel I must wash my hands.” and “God is a thought who makes crooked all that is straight,” and “In Christianity neither morality nor religion come into contact with reality at any point.”

As I continued to read Mike’s paper, which contained the appropriate amount of 20-year-old philosophizing about what it means to lie and what really constitutes a lie, and what Neitzsche meant, I was brought back to my own 20-year-old brain. And I know that an equally patient freshman comp teacher penned some encouraging comment over my own presumed-brilliant integration of Nietzche into my essay. I strove to impress with my deep thoughts and high brow allusions, and she was probably already well versed enough in Neitzsche to know of his dickishness.

I wonder if she smiled.

Posted by Lucy at 00:43:02 | Permalink | Comments (10)

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

A Couple of Found Things

I thought this picture was precious. The little blue bird, like me, is waiting for spring ;)

I also found this “vampire” article from Oprah.com (yikes, I know) through CNN.com, and it seemed to compliment (or would it be complement, Nina?) my “Girl Talk” post.

Enjoy friends, and I’m guessing that no one really wants to hear my emerging theory of how LOST’s Desmond is, in fact, a Christ figure.

(Little Gwennie actually made this connection when she saw, in a children’s Easter book, a picture of Jesus coming out of the tomb. She said, “Mommy, Jesus came out of the tomb like Desmond came out of the hatch.” First of all…mother. of. year. for letting my four-year-old watch LOST. Second, the lit nerd in me is already textually analyzing LOST and building a mental outline of the similarities between the Desmond/hatch and Jesus/tomb stories. I may even develop a LOST theory based on my findings)

So, because I don’t want to lose my six or so readers, I’ll be back when I write something you’ll want to read.

(UPDATE:  Desmond, aka Henry Ian Cusick, WAS Jesus in The Gospel of John the Baptist ! Thanks Anonymous Blue Girl friend!)

Posted by Lucy at 01:07:28 | Permalink | Comments (7)

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Baby, it’s cold inside!

Yesterday at 8:30 a.m., even though all of the local schools were closed due to dangerous wind chills and the local news stations were advising residents to stay at home and inside, unless heading out was absolutely necessary, I bundled up the girls and took them to the Y. When I dropped Gwennie off at the Y’s child watch, I was chastised by the older [than me] woman who was working there when I observed that there weren’t, at that point, any other kids there. She said, “It’s only one degree outside, far too cold to take children out.” Fair enough, although, as I pointed out, my kids walked about 10 feet from a warm house to a warm car.

Admittedly, there is something more than a little crazy about NEEDING to get the hell out of the house on a day when the frigid temperatures caused the ATM at my bank to freeze. And it made think about why? What is it, exactly, about me that craves momentum, forward motion, nearly all of the time. Even when it goes against good advice or common sense? Even when I’m bone-tired.

I thought back to the words of Anne Lamott in Grace (Eventually). If you haven’t read Anne Lamott, you’re missing a real treat. She’s my favorite spiritual writer because she fully owns being deeply spiritually and personally flawed and constantly struggling (and she reminds me of myself).

Lamott describes a day in church when she just wasn’t feeling it but stayed for the service anyway:  “…you have to be somewhere: better here, … than, … home alone, orbiting my own mind. And it’s good to be out where others can see you, so you can’t be your ghastly, spoiled self. If forces you to act slightly more elegantly, and this improves your thoughts, and thereby, the world.”

I thought about the times when I “orbit my own mind”, and in these times, my thoughts and feelings spin and whirl, intersecting and splitting so that I connect events and behaviors that might not be connected, and I become very, very dramatic and unreasonable, at least in my own mind. I misjudge people; I over-judge them, or sometimes, I come to a place where I can accurately judge them, which is often the worst because then I allow someone, usually someone undeserving, to dwell, rent free, in my brain for the day/week/month. In any case, this pattern usually continues until I find someone who loves me to talk me down from this crazy floating place.

When I spend too much time in my own space, I become the “ghastly,” “spoiled” person that Lamott describes. I imagine that my feelings are the top priority–not others, not community, not the greater good, but ME. It’s obscene, really. It’s fortunate that most of the time, I can anticipate and cut short these [insane] tendencies.

There is something about momentum, too, on a day like yesterday. The getting going just to get going that is a thing of beauty in itself. And I’m the better for it. And the thing is, my girls are better for it too. Yesterday morning, and for several weeks, really, my girls have been bickering non-stop about ridiculous things like Lego pieces and Barbie shoes. Their ghastly and spoiled selves are out in full force at home, but in public, my girls are usually the most well-behaved kids in the room.

Yesterday, after days of crying over nothing and everything–complete with four-year-old hitting the floor drama–Gwennie made me a precious Valentine while she was in the Y’s child watch, and the ladies found her “adorable.” Mira made two new friends, a Weasleyish brother and sister who she described as being from “Dorkatania” because they couldn’t play either ping pong or basketball. But nonetheless, she was physically active and socially engaged with peers, and she had a great time.

The real magic is that when we got home, the girls and I were all quite peaceful. We rolled, cut, baked, and decorated lovely heart-shaped cookies to surprise Reg when he got home from work. Mira and I studied second grade science while Gwennie turned the whole house into a pet shop (we have THAT many stuffed animals) We read three chapters of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, multiple Curious George stories, and all in all, we truly enjoyed just being together.

And I’m not sure it would have been possible if we hadn’t gotten up, gone out, and reminded ourselves that we are, in fact, social creatures. That we’re just better people when we interact with others and remember that how we interact with the outside is what strengthens the inside. That it’s good to let go of our inward perceptions and redirect our energies into interacting. We can’t always be whole and reasonable people in the often cockeyed and lopsided spaces of our individual egos.

Posted by Lucy at 15:54:59 | Permalink | Comments (10)

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Beginnings

Usually, I experience a big, post holiday, deflated feeling at this time of year, but this year, I’m a little more cheerful. A couple of weeks ago, I did a little reseach on winter solstice celebrations and relearned the importance of observing nature’s cycles. Then last night, I was browsing through the Farmer’s Almanac (okay, stop laughing), and discovered that the month January was named after the Roman god Janus, the god of beginnings. Janus is usually depicted as having two heads, so that he can see both the past and the future. So this tidbit, combined with my little foray into pagan winter observances, put me in a reflective state of mind.

I felt something a little like envy at how connected the ancients were to the natural world. I say envy because of the number of technological devices that I don’t want to live without. To clarify, I had this thought as I was riding a stationary bike-machine featuring computer generated choices of trails; I chose “lost ruins.” And I was listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers on my MP3 player. You get the idea.

Still, I’m trying to be a little more pensive about the purpose of the deep, cold, dark winter. We need the darkness for growth and for rest and for renewal. Mushrooms grow in the dark and so do crocuses and tulips. So, I’m planning to observe the winter by using the inside time to read and reflect. This way of thinking marks a pretty drastic departure for me. I used to strictly and somewhat impatiently view these months as a test of endurance… if I could get through them without too much bitching, Spring would be here soon. Admittedly, it’s only January 3, and in March, or when it’s snowing in April as it often does here in Ohio, I may feel less centered. But still, I’m not going to get all cynical just yet…it’s only the beginning.

Posted by Lucy at 21:00:15 | Permalink | Comments (4)

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Phonetiquette?

My cell phone and I have never quite bonded, the way most cells and their owners have. Sure, I use it a few times a week, usually to call my mom on the way to the gym, and I’ve also been known to call my sister from the Giant Eagle parking lot (a matter of privacy, not urgency). Mostly, however, my cell sits silent.

I’m not anti-technology so much as I’m anti-complication–I don’t want to have to worry about listening to my cell phone voice mail or checking my text messages. It’s just another layer of detail that I hesitate to let into my life.

And I think that cell phones are affecting our abilities to relate to people in public spaces. We don’t even really speak to each other in public spaces anymore. We’re all too busy talking to the friends and family who are in their own, different public spaces. We’re missing opportunities to connect with people outside of our “tribe.” Our shared cultural experiences, like ball games, concerts, and Harry Potter book release parties, become less significantly less shared when we’re all on our cells.

A couple of years ago, three of my sisters-in-law (I have five) and I spent the afternoon at a local craft festival. Our husbands were all manning the kids, and watching the game, together. It was less than an hour before the husbands (except Reg) started calling and calling. We even turned it into a kind of contest to see whose husband called the most or the least. The idea was that we moms could get some time together away from our kids, but three out of four of us weren’t really away from our kids. We might laugh and accept this scenario as normal these days, but the effect is that our time together and away wasn’t really either.

It seems that once we get into the habit of using our cells, people always expect us to be available for conversation at any time. I’ve seen this happen with many of my friends and family members, and I’m guilty of being one of those people who call the cell when I can’t reach Roxie or M. Lipsticky at home. So it’s easy to say, just don’t answer the phone, but if answering the phone is our habit, when we don’t answer, people worry about us. So we answer, wherever and whenever.

Text messaging, although more discreet, from an outsider’s view (I’ve never sent one) seems downright addictive. Many of my recent conversations with some of my most thoughtful and compassionate people have been punctuated by glances at the cell phone screen. My students can’t go an hour without checking for texts. The other day at the gym, I noticed the woman next to me was texting in between sets; then I looked around, and I realized I was the ONLY person not talking or texting on a cell.

I keep resisting this kind of habitual cell use because, I confess, I would instantly become one of these people. I would become a servant to my phone, constantly checking, losing my sense of time and place. Just a couple of days ago, I spent a good twenty minutes at the craft store engaged in a conversation with my mom before it occured to me that I was exposing other people to my private family business.

And I don’t think it’s healthy to be in this kind of minute-to-minute contact with our loved ones all day long. Reg doesn’t have his own cell, and if he did, I’d probably nag the hell out of him. I’m all for checking in during the day, but that’s easily done with the office phone. But I think it’s good and natural for us to spend some time in the world on our own and then go back to our loved ones and share our experiences. We get to save up our stories for a “wait till you hear this” moment after dinner.

I also think it’s good for us to be a little out of touch sometimes. We can listen to NPR, notice the trees, turn the volume up too loud on the Disco Hits CD. We can have time to reflect and consider or to think or to smile at a memory of an ordinary moment from the day– a moment that we may have missed if we were on the phone.

Posted by Lucy at 05:33:23 | Permalink | Comments (6)

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Thankfully…

* my daughters are healthy, beautiful, smart, and generally respectful (except when Gwennie pulls down her pants, shows me her little ass and says “Enjoy this!”)
* my kids didn’t ask for a Wii for Christmas! (and here’s hoping they don’t think of it).
* Reg who took me to urgent care today, where I could have gone Wednesday night when I started feeling like I couldn’t breathe, but I decided to wait until today so that I could go to my doctor’s instead of urgent care (my doctor took the day off), where I finally got an antibiotic for my respiratory infection.
* the urgent care nurses did not weigh me (the nurses at the doc’s would have) on the day after Thanksgiving.
* Reg is always on my side. It’s so comforting that I have a spouse with whom I can be completely honest about everything. And he never tells me to “get over it” even when I need to. And he never reminds me of things I say in the moment that I don’t really mean.
* my closest friends understand my current lack of communication because I’ve been in my head a little too much lately, and I’m not feeling like I’m good company.
* many, many online shopping sites are starting to pony up the online coupons and free shipping or both (and yes Crse, the Warner Brothers Harry Potter shop is one of them–I was waiting for it), thus saving me the trouble of real-world shopping.
* my loved ones know that I don’t text or check my cell phone voicemail. They fully accept these communications shortcomings.
* the semester is almost over.
* I know some pretty cool, amazingly and diversely talented people.
* after nine long months, the level of [fake] thyroid hormone in my body is finally normal.
* I am, as of yesterday, ten months cigarette free–the longest I’ve gone without smoking in 20 years (without being pregnant).
* I’m beginning to get over my fear of honestly and truly expressing myself.
* Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix comes out on DVD in 18 days!

Posted by Lucy at 03:40:32 | Permalink | Comments (2)

Sunday, November 18, 2007

I wish I was bitchier

Yesterday, I was walking through the mall after getting a haircut, on my way to Hot Topic for a Gryffindor scarf, when I started getting accosted by random salesmen. At our local mall , there are kiosks of weird specialty products in the corridors–things like light up wheelie shoes and remote control helicopters. The first guy to stalk me was the seller of the light up wheelie shoes. I made the mistake of glancing at him because…. he was zooming around in light-up wheelie shoes. He zoomed up to me and tried to lure me back to his stand. I kept trying to get away, but he kept wheeling in front of me. Finally, I had to get rude and say “Seriously, get out of my way.”

Then, just as I got clear of wheelie guy, another guy started chasing me with a flat iron. I had just come from the salon; my hair couldn’t have gotten any straighter. I was REAL clever with him. I said, “unless you have a Gryffindor scarf, I’m not interested.” He then kept following me, kept talking, so I walked faster and ignored him.

Then today, one of the dads at Mira’s art class kept trying to catch my eye. I know this guy, and I’m not proud. Let me just say that in my first couple of years of college, I drank. Alot. At a college bar where this guy bartended. For the past five weeks of art class, I’ve managed to dash in and out of the room with a quick smile. Today–cornered. Him “I know you.” Me “Maybe from college. Maybe we had a class together.” Him “Were you in a sorority?” Me “No.” Him “Did you go to [college bar]?” Me “Yes, too much.” Him, “Who did you hang around with?” Me “These two sisters. You probably remember Jenny (name changed). Everyone remembers Jenny.” (This is true. Jenny was my pretty friend, and all the guys wanted her). Him “No, I remember YOU.” I turned nervously away from him and said to the art teacher, “Okay, so you have my cell.” and left.

Yep, this guy, who knew me as a drunken 19-year-old just hit on me at our children’s art class. He used to hit on me back then, and I turned him down EVERY TIME, even when I was VERY DRUNK –those were the times when he came on the strongest. He seems to be unaware that the past 21 years have not been kind to him. But he never really was attractive. Maybe that’s why he tries so hard and in inappropriate places and borderline circumstances.

I know that I could have/should have asserted my boundaries more clearly with all three of these guys, but I’m really uncomfortable with people who are this forward, especially men who are this forward, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s me or them? Are they normal and I’m socially weird or backward? Do these kinds of aggressive come ons really lead to better sales or to clandestine affairs in the art class parking lot?

It was their persistence that really stunned me. They seemed to miss all of the social “go to hell” cues I was sending. Or maybe they counted on stunning me, disarming me. Every single one of these situations felt a little predatory to me. Clearly, all of these guys wanted something from me, and they were going to go after it. I guess I need to start working on my bitch vibe.

Posted by Lucy at 03:02:33 | Permalink | Comments (3)

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

It’s all about the diction

Isn’t this amazing? It’s the Reading Room by Yurika


I think I may have accidentally called my students “illiterate” today. I was coffee crashing and hungry and babbling, and all I can remember was that I was trying to elucidate the connection between reading and writing. Then, I said something like, “developing a life-long daily habit of reading is the only way to learn to write literately, the only way to be literate. What I see in your papers aren’t problems that will be solved by learning terms; these are basic literacy problems.” And worst of all, I said this to the most literate of my three classes. Yikes. I’m hoping that they don’t know what literate means. I know they won’t look it up. Or maybe, they weren’t actually listening to me. Maybe they were hungry and coffee crashing too. I think I really meant “articulate/articulately/inarticulate.” In the real (it’s my new favorite expression, but I’m afraid to learn that by using it, I’m may once again be fronting my decrepitude. Wait…do people still say fronting?)–we can all be a little inarticulate from time to time. I know I was. Sorry guys. I’ll be better on Thursday!

Posted by Lucy at 01:01:57 | Permalink | Comments (3)

Monday, October 29, 2007

‘Tis the Season? Really?

I just got excited when I checked the weather and found out that it’ll be pretty nice for trick-or-treating. And yet, it seems that more so, year after year, Halloween is just a retail layover to Christmas. The amount of seasonal special merchandise for Halloween is truly obscene (and I’m not referring to the costumes that could double as marital aids). The Christmas holiday catalogs have started arriving, four or five a day, letting me know that I need to start shopping. And, of course, as any parent of young kids knows, Toys R Us’s Big Toy Book is out–the official marker of the beginning of the holiday shopping season.

So let the shopping begin….

This year, Reg and I have talked to the girls about how wasteful we’ve been in the past with toys and how, because it’s better for our planet, we’re only going to ask Santa for a few things that we really want. This is somewhat our philosophy, but really, the main reason is that we’ve got an 11×17 playroom that is crammed with toys. Shelves, cabinets, and closets filled with toys.

We haven’t purchased all or even most of these toys. Reg has a pretty big family, and it wasn’t until last year that we convinced his step brother’s wife to let us have something resembling a gift exchange in an effort to cut down on the amount of plastic. Still, we’ve purchased plenty.

Who is all of this shopping for anyway? The kids? The kids don’t care all that much about the gifts (except that we care, so they start to care); they just want to go to aunt’s or grandma’s and play with their cousins. It’s us, the parents, including me, who are so sucked into the consumerism of the American Christmas. We believe that the kids need gifts at every holiday visit. This way of thinking is so entrenched that in the past, my efforts to prioritize family relationships over gifting have been met by some with thinly veiled accusations of stinginess. Last year, I organized the kids to make a Gingerbread House for my MIL, and MIL made it perfectly clear that this gift wasn’t up to snuff.

Who wants to be Scrooge? (Although, Scrooge became generous with his mind and his spirit, not only with his wallet, but none-the-less, to not buy, buy, buy is to be Scrooge-like). So I gift away.

Every year at this time, at the beginning, I feel completely in control. I’m optimistic. I’m sensible. I budget. I create a spreadsheet. Reg and I start out making sensible choices. But when I actually begin leaving the house, I’m marching lock-step with the army of consumers. I end up, at nearly every store, picking up little things that seem reasonably priced. I wait in lines for, when it’s all added up, hours. And by the time Christmas rolls around, I’ve got 40 packages of plastic things under our tree.

I’m concerned about the message that all of this consumption is sending my daughters, and I hope that Reg and I can stick with our plan this year. Maybe we’ll catalog order. Even with the shipping I’ll probably save money. I’ll definitely save time, and then I won’t get lost in the cleverly-constructed-to-make-us-spend-spend-spend maze (haze?) of the retail outlets.

Posted by Lucy at 01:50:04 | Permalink | Comments (3)

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Odds and Ends

I just finished a rather busy evening. First, I went to Roxie’s Halloween Party. Ten screaming and running kids, who we sent outside. In the rain. Go us. I couldn’t even have a drink because the cops have sobriety checkpoints this weekend (and one drink anymore…), although, probably the sobriety checkpoints weren’t up and running at 7:30, when the girls and I left Roxie’s house. Yep. I’m that old.

Then, an old friend G and his cute boyfriend N came to visit.We ate some snacks and caught up and gossiped. G moved away from here a few years ago, and I miss him like hell. The time went too fast, but, as it is with our best people, we jumped right back in as if we had seen each other yesterday. It was fabulous, and I quickly became unsober. Go me. The rest of G’s local peeps–the childless ones– were going out to a local club that I hadn’t even heard of. Yep. I’m that old.

Because 3 out of 4 of us here at the house of Black dressed as Harry Potter characters (Gwen decided to be a witch–somewhat connected but not officially a Harry Potter character), the Dumbledore is gay issue came up again. And by the way, for those who read the “Haterade” post, I finally was able to come up with the socially acceptable non-confrontational response to Emma:  “You and I shouldn’t have this conversation. I’m sure we have very different ideas.” Go me again.

All in all, despite the fact that I have been SUFFERING with a terrible head cold for the past three days, I’m feeling pretty good right now. Could be half a bottle of wine. Could be the amazing people in my life. Go us.

Posted by Lucy at 04:03:08 | Permalink | Comments (2)