If most of my posts lately sound like diary entries, partly it’s because that’s all I have the time and energy for. When you work two jobs (occasionally worry about the status of both jobs), have to commute an hour or more to each one and home, have a daughter to take care of on weekends–train travel time not included but needed–and try to cope with her anxiety ridden mother, who has the energy or time to be expertly creative? I used to want to write when I sat down at a computer all the time. Now all I want to do is play Bubble Safari or Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook when I get in front of the screen. It’s easier and sometimes I can see results (nothing like a monkey giving you two thumbs up to make you feel good about the day). Writing isn’t easy, and it can get even harder when the life you live is shaky and caves in on you from time to time. 

I used to write lengthy essays on topics of the day, debates, politics and other observations. and post somewhat regularly (1 or 2, maybe 3 times a week if I was particularly moved). Can’t do that now. However microblogging isn’t for me. I know myself enough to know I’m WAYY too verbose for 160 characters or less. I’m trying to find the middle ground. In my writing, as in my life, right now I need equilibrium. 


Catholic FAIL

June 18, 2012

I took a walk with Sophia and Susan, her mother, the other day. Susan and Sophia take this walk every other day so I was just following along. The route takes them past one of the Catholic churches in the neighborhood and Susan taught Sophia how to cross herself. Susan had Sophia baptized as a baby–and that’s it–and insists that Sophia is Catholic as well, despite me raising her in the Unitarian church (where she spends most of her time in the playroom so not really sure what that makes her). Sophia will insist she’s Catholic too so I let it go.

When they both genuflected at a statue of Jesus, we had this conversation:

Susan: We like to pray to the Virgin Mary and Jesus’ father.
Me (confused): That’s a statue of Joseph?
Susan: No that’s a statue of Jesus’ Father.
(took another look at the statue with arms stretched forwards) Me: I’m pretty sure that’s Jesus.
Susan: No that’s supposed to be his father, God.
Me: Uh, Susan, Jesus is God.
Susan: No he’s not.
Me: That’s what Catholics believe.
Susan: It’s two people. How does that happen?

So now the Unitarian has to explain the holy trinity and the triple God head (and probably the Nicean Creed)to a Catholic. 

So of course, Susan starts asking me a little about my UU church as Sophia is climbing the railings behind us.

Susan: Does your church believe like the Romans… you know that Caligula thing?
Me: The Caligula thing????!?!
Susan: Did you see that movie?
Me (suddenly very nervous where this is going): Yes?
Susan: You know all that B.C. stuff?
Me (even more confused): B.C. stuff?
Susan: You know what B.C. means right?
Sophia (chiming in): Boston College?

That cracked me right up. Susan at one point wanted to take over Sophia’s spiritual education. Please reread the above and make of that what you will. 

June 14, 2012

Really interesting blog on her life experiences and depression and her analysis of it. Self awareness is good.

In fifth grade I took an English class in science fiction. While we read a complete anthology of great sci-fi writers, the only story I still remember vividly to this day was “A Sound of Thunder” by Ray Bradbury. I’m not sure if it was the story and its construction, the use of language to create wonderful imagery, or the wicked twist on the title at the end, I just loved that story. Bradbury is still one of those authors that I think of when you say the words “Science fiction”. More than that he was an inspiration to writing. I was a kid who wanted to do everything and here was an author that wrote about doing anything and everything. He also wrote everything–short stories, novels, plays, screenplays, teleplays, memoirs and essays. He’d written in almost every form you could think of and he did it well. He was original, disciplined, imaginative and daringly creative. His contemporaries were among the heaviest hitters of their time — Asimov, Vonnegut, Ellison, Heinlein, Serling — and they all are influential. Bradbury was a craftsman and an artist and now he is gone. Dead of a stroke at age 91.

Rest in Peace Ray Bradbury. You are sorely missed.

Sophia’s been into the “Diary of a Wimpy Kid” books for a while and lately (though really it started last year) she’s been bugging me for the “Wimpy Kid Do it Yourself Book.” I haven’t been able to afford it at all but this week we compromised: we went to Barnes & Noble to read it. So she’s on the section on predicting your future, where you roll as die to see what you will do in life. Being an old RP-gamer I knew this was preparing pretweens for a life as a GM. Then there was one portion she got confused on:

Sophia: We have to roll the dice twice, I think.
Me: Why?
Sophia: It has 12… wait. (she counts them) Ten jobs to roll.
Me: Ten?
Sophia: Yeah.
Me: Don’t worry I have a 10-sided die you can use.
Sophia: What?
Me: It’s a die with 10-sides.
Sophia: (beat) That’s just stupid.

Obviously my role-playing buddies will say I’ve done a lousy job of parenting here.