Dilettante in Distress

Getting older?

2009-08-26T14:55:00.004-05:00

Is it a true sign of getting older that I can find myself appreciating Liz Phair's recent work? Is it a slippery slope to Josh Groban?

That doesn't mean I don't still love Exile in Guyville. Really.

It has begun.

2009-08-11T10:06:00.002-05:00

Boo-hooing has officially started.

I dropped Annika off at her last day of pre-K this morning. Annika was really excited to bring cupcakes and cookies to share with her friends and teachers. She's a teeny bit sad to leave the school/daycare she's been attending since she was 18 months, even though she's excited/nervous about Kindergarten next week and way psyched to go to San Diego tomorrow.

I dropped in to see Annika's 3-4 yr-old teacher, Carol, and the tears started flowing. Since I'm an emotional sort, I suppose it shouldn't surprise me how much I'll miss these familiar and trusted people who have helped Annika along the way to becoming the sweet, smart almost-Kindergartener that she is now. I know Annika will miss them, too.

The key is, I suppose, not to let Annika see the full-on waterworks next week. That's going to be tough, but the big sunglasses should help.

The Diamond Sea.

2009-08-09T18:26:00.002-05:00

Gazing out over the water when I was in San Diego last month, I thought not once, but a few times about the Sonic Youth song "The Diamond Sea"...images of water and mirror reflections, and the recurring line, "Time takes its crazy toll."

Tuesday represents Annika's last day of pre-Kindergarten. Wednesday, everything will have changed. We escape out of town and back to San Diego for a short break, and when we return, Annika will be attending Elementary School. Time takes its crazy toll. It seems impossible she could be old enough to go off to school with a Tinkerbell backpack, and I'm so wanting to keep a perfect image of her as she is right now and hold on to her so very tightly. Elementary School seems so big, and she seems so very small, and the thought of her being alone or afraid for even one moment scares me terribly and makes me ache. All the while that I reassure her that she'll make new friends and learn new things, and as much as I know she's more than ready for this transition, I can feel my chest tightening with anxiety. Today I made up a story for her about her first day, and she said, "I like the story because it helps me feel that I don't need to be afraid." I hope I'm saying the right things.

I know that when I see the ocean again on Wednesday, I'll be thinking of The Diamond Sea and time taking its crazy toll, and I'll dream of falling in love with the diamond rain that might make it all ok.

Time takes its crazy toll
And how does your mirror grow
You better watch yourself when you jump into it
'cause the mirror's gonna steal your soul

I wonder how it came to be my friend
That someone just like you has come again
You'll never, never know how close you came
Until you fall in love with the diamond rain

F-r-i-d-a-y Night!

2009-08-07T20:29:00.002-05:00

Put little girl to bed? Check.

Tidy up? Check.

Get back to work for a bit? Yup, I'm going to do that.

Am I totally lame? Totally.

Danke schoen, John Hughes.

2009-08-07T00:43:00.002-05:00

I was sad today to read the news that John Hughes, writer/director of 80s classics like Sixteen Candles, Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off had died suddenly of a heart attack. He was only 59.

I suppose it shouldn't be surprising that Facebook suddenly exploded into a mass John Hughes movie quote exchange. After all, we practically grew up with the clever, awkward, funny characters Hughes brought to life. We identified with Samantha Baker, and fell in love with Jake Ryan. We wished we could be as fearless as Ferris Bueller, and we reveled in Ed Rooney's downfall. We saw the sensitive soul behind the tough facade of John Bender. We felt for Duckie when Andie went off with a rich guy whose name sounded like a major appliance.

How many hours did we spend together watching the movies in the theaters? And then on video? And then, years later, how many times have we sat there and re-watched the movies on tv just to prove that we can still recite from the Hughes lexicon?

Sixteen Candles will always be my favorite of the Hughes teen movies. The awkward girl triumphs over the superficial. The beauty is won over by the geek. So even though the cocky Ferris Bueller may be the most iconic of the Hughes characters, maybe I love John Hughes most for believing in the geeks and the awkward girls. I needed him to.

Reoriented. Sort of.

2009-08-01T21:48:00.003-05:00

I made it home on time yesterday, which seemed like a miracle, given my luck with air travel these days. Everything smooth, everything on schedule, short layover, nice flight attendants, no one spilling over from the seat next to me into my already tiny personal space. Well, the guy next to me from Chicago to Wichita was rockin' out to Gospel on his ipod while drinking two vodka cranberries. Interesting.

I think Annika grew several inches while I was away this week. Seriously. She's also now officially enrolled for Kindergarten, which begins on August 17. I think she's ready for the transition to big kid school. I, however, am being dragged forward kicking and screaming.

I'll be working from home the next month, which makes me ridiculously happy. Also, as a reward for the grueling travel schedule over the past three months, I booked a trip to San Diego in August, funded in part with a free ticket from United. I had the opportunity to visit San Diego for work earlier this month and absolutely fell in love with it. R. will be out in CA picking up work from a show in Chico, CA, and he'll drive down to meet Annika and me. Can't wait to put my toes in the sand, smell the salt air, sleep with my balcony door open, and discover this lovely city that I didn't get to explore when I spent four days in a windowless conference room. I normally feel so guilty about treating myself to something so nice, but this time, I'm really ready for a real break, even if it is just a few days.

At the moment, I feel on top of things. I know this could all change by tomorrow morning, but for tonight, I'm content to be at home with my little one, and even more content in the knowledge that the next time I hop a plane, I won't be next to a vodka-drinking Gospel guy as I head off to work, but next to dear, sweet Annika. And that's enough to make everything seem all right.

No thinking for a little while.

2009-07-29T20:18:00.002-05:00

Stay out super late tonight
picking apples, making pies
put a little something in our lemonade and take it with us
we’re half-awake in a fake empire
we’re half-awake in a fake empire

Tiptoe through our shiny city
with our diamond slippers on
do our gay ballet on ice
bluebirds on our shoulders
we’re half-awake in a fake empire
we’re half-awake in a fake empire

Turn the light out say goodnight
no thinking for a little while
let's not try to figure out everything at once
It’s hard to keep track of you falling through the sky
we’re half-awake in a fake empire
we’re half-awake in a fake empire

Goodbye.

2009-07-23T22:14:00.001-05:00

If I had to attach one word to the summer of 2009, it’s been goodbye.

I’ve spent the last three months traveling back and forth to Virginia for work. Unlike the summer of 2006, during which I spent a crazy, hot summer in Houston, at least Annika weathered my comings and goings with little impact. At 5 ½, Annika is now old enough to be affected by her mother’s weekly trips to the airport and stays at a Hampton Inn 1500 miles away. And the little gifts of books and trinkets and tiny hotel shampoos and conditioners, though appreciated, don’t ultimately mean very much. Every week without fail, Annika says, “Mommy, I don’t want you to go.” Though I take a fistful of medication every day to balance my moods, I can feel the limits of the regulatory effects of serotonin reuptake inhibitors being stretched beyond capacity. When you miss your little girl, and when you’re consumed with guilt over leaving her every week because you’re sure you’re damaging her with your absence, there’s nothing strong enough to help, except maybe that glass of wine that numbs you ever so slightly while eating your uninspired chain restaurant dinner.

While I was home one sunny weekend, abortion doctor George Tiller was killed at his church while his wife was getting ready to sing in the choir. I went to his funeral.

I met Rob and Annika one weekend at Rob’s dad’s house in Virginia. Rob’s dad’s wife Barbara has Alzheimer’s, and drifts further away each day from the smart, funny, and engaged person we’ve come to know and love so much over the last ten years. But several small, precious moments amidst the sadness. Barbara taking Annika upstairs to find Annika’s plastic jewelry. Barbara declaring a restaurant they go to weekly a “rare and wonderful treat”!

I’m in San Diego this week—a welcome break from the regular trips to Virginia. I’m immersing myself in its loveliness. Water everywhere, sea air, boats, laid back and happy people. I wonder if my health care plan would pay for me to move out here. I could surely cut back on pharma-a-go-go.

I try to hang on to the good things. “A rare and wonderful treat,” she said. Salt air and boats in the marina. Little views of everyday kindnesses. A sea of white carnations at a funeral.

One more week back and forth for now. One more week of goodbye.

Back and forth.

2009-05-16T18:15:00.004-05:00

I got back from VA around 8:00 last night in the middle of a magnificent display of lightning, which would have been more magnificent had I not been at 36,000 feet in a large, metal object.

I'm enjoying my time with Annika immensely. She knows I need to go back to VA again next week and for the next few weeks and doesn't seem quite so upset, which I'm very relieved about. Really, the guilt is something awful.

I'm still working my short-term project and hoping against hope for something more long term to work out. It's difficult to accept that some things really aren't in my control, but I have to.

I just heard Eurythmics on the radio this week, which inspired me to listen to them again, and to go out and buy some Annie Lennox. Though I was a big Eurythmics fan years ago, I had never really liked the song "Sweet Dreams," but I've grown to like it more and more over time. There's something to be said for its simplicity, and it seemed to resonate with me this week.

Wednesday.

2009-05-13T20:36:00.002-05:00

It's Wednesday night. I think I'm going to make it until the end of the week.

The project I'm working on is short term, and I fear it will only go through mid-July at the latest. I'm seriously worried. And angry. And tired. I don't want to start again job-wise at 39 in Wichita. I should start practicing, "Would you like fries with that?"

How'd that sound?

Oooops.

2009-05-12T19:02:00.002-05:00

I forgot my medication at home. Let's hope I can make it until Friday.

Travel.

2009-05-11T17:27:00.003-05:00

Last time I traveled, it was during a miserable, cold December. It's not exactly warm right now, but it's not freezing, either. The grey skies seem to suit my current mood. I was dreading the trip--Annika has suddenly taken to telling me that she doesn't want me to go away. I feel really guilty.

At least my trip yesterday wasn't too bad. I saw the most beautiful full moon from the plane and I wondered if anyone could be appreciating it as much as I was at that moment.

I'm in Virginia. I am reminded of the kindness and gentility that was so familiar during my college years. I appreciate the friendliness of the convenience store employees and patrons who make absolutely certain I know which way to go to find my hotel. I have a giggle at seeing no fewer than three men in the airport in madras plaid golf shorts.

I'm working hard this week and I have little time to think about anything beyond those details, but somehow it makes me feel a little less overwhelmed to remember my drive to the hotel--Peter Frampton's "Baby I Love Your Way" on the radio and the full moon lighting the road.

Down boy.

2009-05-02T20:45:00.003-05:00

After a day of driving Annika around and having her insist on playing the Kidz Bop cd she got in her Happy Meal the other night, Karen O and the gang are just what I needed to feel better. Total, total hotness. Who needs a bassist when you have guitarist Nick Zinner?

So Sad About Us.

2009-04-25T14:52:00.000-05:00

Jekyll and Hyde.

2009-04-24T20:14:00.003-05:00

So, tonight, instead of being frustrated at not having a Mom's Night Out, I set my mind to enjoy my night with Annika. And I did. She was overtired from today's pre-school Olympics, so much so that I didn't hear any coherent reports about the events and where she placed in the competition, but was informed proudly that she ate all of the picnic lunch I'd packed for her, including the mandarin oranges. And did she mention the MANDARIN ORANGES? Because she ate the mandarin oranges. It was a wonder she made it through dinner and bath time and story time without completely falling apart. She's now been fast asleep for about an hour, and I'm enjoying the solitude of Mom's Night In.

Amazingly, after all the gnashing of teeth and trauma over having taken away Kids' Night Out, Annika reverted immediately to her typically sweet-natured ways this week, making me wonder if it could possibly be the same child who only days before had transformed so abruptly from Dr. Jekyll to Miss Hyde.

And speaking of Hyde, I'm a little disappointed Annika won't be headed to Hyde Elementary in the Fall. It's one of the best elementary schools in the city, if not the best, and I'd hoped the magnet school lottery would be kind to us. Still, our neighborhood school is just fine, and I know Annika will be really excited to head over there for Kindergarten. I know I'm fixating on Annika's growing up, but it's absolutely amazing to me that she's going to big kid school soon. Um...not that I'll miss writing checks to her pre-school. I won't. Still, pondering Elementary school seems like something I shouldn't need to be concerned about just yet. I'm resolving to avoid those thoughts for the rest of the evening.

Hutchinson, KS.

2009-04-22T10:48:00.003-05:00

Check out the details of Naomi's bloggy visit to Hutchinson, KS. Way to go, Naomi! I can't wait to go back and re-visit the Cosmosphere and some other attractions.

Growing up.

2009-04-21T20:48:00.004-05:00

Tonight at dinner I was suddenly struck by how much Annika is purging off her baby pudge. She's getting leaner, and I have to look harder for the features that show some hint of babyishness, oh, like her knuckles are still more dimples than they are actual knuckles. But her cheeks are thinner and her tummy less round, and if I think about it all too much, I get a little misty.

Where is my little girl going? I'm already sad for the day she won't want (or need) to hold my hand across parking lots. And though that's not a reasonable demand when she's 30, I still have trouble thinking of her not needing me so much.

Here's Annika in May 2007.

And here she is now.

Discipline.

2009-04-19T20:17:00.005-05:00

Annika really acted up this afternoon and then again this evening. It amazes me how the behavior of such a sweet kid can turn so absolutely witchy, with Annika daring me to take away something else...and oh yeah?! Take that away too, mommy. Take it all. HA! I DARE you. I TOTALLY dare you.

Now, because of her behavior, Annika won't be going to Kids' Night Out at her school on Friday night. She LOVES Kids' Night Out. And how bad will I feel for her that she won't be going? Awful. And bad, selfishly, because I won't get the night to do something fun. I know being a parent is not supposed to be easy, but for once I'd like to feel like I can get my feet under me without every bit of confidence I've gained suddenly removed, and I'm again off-balance and exposed and questioning, over and over, what should I have done and how should I have done it?

And why is it that the discipline means more coming from R. than from me, when I feel like I'm being strong and steady?

Anyone else have days like this?

Friday night.

2009-04-17T19:54:00.006-05:00

I'm enjoying a Friday night of nothing to do except listen to the quiet. You'd think I couldn't stand the quiet since I work from home and have no one around to make noise except for the dog, but this time is precious and feels like my very own. This weekend will be occupied with mending the fence that the storm blew down two weeks ago, and so I'm fine to let tonight's laziness float on for a while.

Tonight also marks my making it through another uncertain week of work. I have another short-term assignment due to start next week, and I have a long-term assignment possibly on the horizon, but nothing definite. It's a bit of a scary precipice, this not knowing, and so I keep myself as occupied as I can and do every small task and assignment "with gusto" (yes, I said "with gusto") to prove my worth. So far, it all seems to be working, but I find myself keeping fingers crossed a lot while trying to achieve Zen. A born fretter, worrier, overthinker, and ruminator, a path toward inner harmony is not easy. I'm the girl who finds yoga stressful because instead of letting my mind go blank, I'm contemplating my grocery list while doing the Child's pose. There may just be hope for me yet. Since my mind is almost clear right now except for one nagging thought about remembering my parent-teacher conference next week, I think I may just get there one day.

O simple thing! Where have you gone?

2009-04-16T17:28:00.002-05:00

O isn't it Romantic (with a capital R)--sympathetic nature and all that.

I always imagine had I grown up in England several decades later than I did, Keane would have been my favorite (uh, favourite) band.

I love the unabashed sentimentality of "Somewhere Only We Know." Life does get awfully complicated, doesn't it?

Oh Manchester...

2009-04-11T00:00:00.004-05:00

Made it through yet another week...unfortunately no trip to see Morrissey, but after spending last weekend out of town, another road trip seemed a bit excessive. Hopefully, Moz's touring days are not over, even though his pompadour is perhaps a bit less full than it once was.

R. and I watched a fascinating documentary on Joy Division tonight, which reminded me of how brilliant they were--and how magical and spontaneous their origins were from grimy, industrial Manchester. I particularly love watching documentaries about creative types--learning about the passion and determination that pushes artists to create despite the odds of making a real go of it, and sometimes, yes, the madness that often accompanies the artistic temperament. I'm grateful to enjoy the efforts of people who can devote themselves so fully to the creative process and reward us with their beautiful work, something that makes it possible for me to be content to work a day job and enjoy writing a blog entry every now and then as my creative outlet.

It always amazes me that Ian Curtis was so young when he wrote "Love Will Tear Us Apart." Seems impossible that a 23-year old could have been such an old soul.

You got all sad, so I feel sad too.

2009-04-08T11:16:00.003-05:00

Perhaps the best song by the Pretenders.

I've always admired Chrissie Hynde's songwriting--her ability to portray such toughness and sweetness simultaneously and effortlessly.

Turbulence.

2009-04-07T09:41:00.003-05:00

Sometimes, enduring a little turbulence is worth what's on the other side.

On a bit of a whim, I decided to make plans to visit my friend Bethany for her 40th birthday, and I'm so glad I did. After being in a bit of rut here in Wichita for the past few months, I feel, dare I say, optimistic. I'm thankful for a change in perspective and for time spent with the most wonderful friends. I'll have lots of great memories to draw from when I'm feeling a little lonely. This includes memories of great pizza. Yum.

Most of my, uh, five readers know I'm not the best flyer. I'm anxious by nature, and being confined in a metal tube at 30,000 feet doesn't thrill me. But an experience several years ago in which we hit turbulence so intense that I came out of my seat and hit the overhead bin (always wear your seatbelts, folks) magnified this fear to intense proportions.

Recently, I asked my Dr. for a prescription. And yaay for that. But on the way out to NJ, it didn't work perfectly. We hit heavy turbulence and even though I didn't start feeling like I would have a panic attack, I felt anxious. Fortunately, I sat next to an incredibly kind person on my flight to NJ. I'm sure it was the drugs that had my defenses down, and this probably sounds incredibly strange, but after enjoying some nice conversation for a while, I asked if I could rest my head on my traveling companion's shoulder. And he didn't mind. I suppose I should be utterly embarrassed, but it made all the difference just to connect with someone and hear a calm, reassuring voice. The gentleman I sat with told me about his beautiful daughters, both in their early 20s, and how proud he is of them. He talked about how utterly disconnected we are from people in our daily routines, how afraid and suspicious we are, and how we don't often realize how desperate we are to connect in some way. In any way. I didn't have a panic attack. Not even close. I could breathe. When I got to Newark, I shared a hug with this stranger and thanked him for being so kind.

Sometimes we're so busy we forget how disconnected we all are. But when you hit rough air, sometimes you need to ask for help to get to the other side. And whatever you may think of how strange my actions may have been, I'll always remember this trip as an incredibly healing experience. I suspect this stranger may feel the same.

Morrissey in Kansas City!

2009-03-24T13:10:00.003-05:00

Believe it or not, despite my many years of Smiths and Morrissey fandom, I've never seen Morrissey. Maybe the mister will let me make a solo road trip on April 7.

Check out the following clip from a recent show in Montclair, NJ. Shit, it'd be worth the drive to see him do "Death of a Disco Dancer," my favorite song from the Smiths' last album, Strangeways, Here We Come. Rock.

And here's "How Soon Is Now" from the same night. This was recorded by one of my Facebook friends, who was apparently in my senior year math class, though I don't recall we ever actually spoke back then. Of course, I remember nothing about my senior year math class. I'll assume there was math in it, because I got into a good college. But God bless Facebook, reuniting Morrissey-loving misfits everywhere.

The show is up!

2009-03-06T07:53:00.000-06:00

Oh. yes. The show is up.