Insomniac's blog

Hey! Things are looking up in the wonderful world of Nita. I have a jam-packed weekend full of kid fun. Yep, the official kickoff of birthday season has begun! Actually it started about two weekends ago with one niece's birthday party. Tomorrow we have another niece's birthday party to go to and then on Sunday is Princess's fifth birthday party! Princess technically doesn't turn five until Wednesday, the 28th, but since everyone is busy with work and what-not during the week we decided to have it on the weekend. Princess is having her party at Sandy Pines, which is a HUGE campground and resort community. By campground I mean, fifth wheels and mini-trailer homes complete with satellite television, microwaves, air-conditioning, an ice-cream parlor, fancy playgrounds, and beaches for swimming. Darling Husband's dad has a place out in Sandy Pines and since the kids love it so much out there we decided to have Princess's party there. She is having a Hawaiian Luau complete with flip-flop decorating and Hula girl cupcakes. Yep, I really go all out with the birthday party decorating. I'm making a flip-flop cake with LifeSaver candies on it and yellow-colored sugar for the sand look. My mom and I are making the Hula girl cupcakes, too. I even bought Princess a tank top with hibiscus-looking flowers on it for the special day. We have 15 adults and 14 kids coming to the party. Hey, I do come from a rather large family. Three of my brothers will be there with their wives and kids. Plus, Darling's two brothers and their families will be there along with the assorted grandmas and grandpas. The kids range in age from 9 months to 13 years old. Thank God Sandy Pines has things for older kids to do like mini-golf and basketball courts and a game room, otherwise the older kids would be horribly bored.

Anyhow, after my weekend birthday partying and eating enough cake to keep me on a sugar high for at least the weekend, I start classes on Monday night. I am actually really looking forward to classes again. The last six weeks off has driven me nearly stir-crazy and I have become a little too mom-ish. Although, my house is really quite clean and the laundry seems to get done a hell of a lot quicker. I have kept busy with my research and with some assorted commitments to other things at school like the documentary and the committee, but for the most part, life ground to a snail's pace. I simply hate not having to wear at least four hats at once. I don't know what I am going to do with myself once I am actually done with GVSU. I sympathize with the Amazing Raye because I am certain that starting next May I will be twittling my thumbs and going a little goofy around the edges. I did see one of my mentors in the history department on Thursday though and he reminded me that he would like me to become his personal assistant. Perhaps I will after I finish student teaching. God knows that the man has enough money to pay me decently. Not that the profs at GVSU make a lot of money, but this prof is indepedently wealthy...wealthy enough to drive a BMW and own a house in both Florida and the Caribbean. Anyhow, I enjoy being in the presence of this prof and we get along quite well. Plus, I am always giving him advice on his activities anyhow so I might as well look into getting paid to do it, right? Like I typed though, I wouldn't do it until after student teaching. I dread student teaching. I know I shouldn't but I do. I dread screwing up and having to re-do it. I dread not being able to teach what I want to teach but rather what I am told to teach. I dread dealing with pissed off parents and cocky kids. Although, to be honest, the kids scare me the least. Cocky kids are usually, at the bare least, entertaining. I have come to the conclusion in the last year or so that I simply do not want to teach high school English or History. I want to go onto grad school and get that PhD and teach at the college and university level. Darling is hesitant about it and I don't blame him. After all, he has waited these last six plus years for me to get my BAs and now I am asking him to fund me through graduate school too. But I believe that is what I am called to do...research, write, and teach what I want to teach (at least for the most part, I know that a lot of places limit professors too).

Anyhow, I am signing off for the night. Got lots to do tomorrow. One birthday party to go to and one to set up for. Whew, I am so very, very happy that life is back to its normal hectic pace!

Since I'm not in the mood for some long-winded post, I thought I would just rattle off the few things I have going on. I know, I know. No one out there really cares what I have going on, but this here blog-thingie is my own mental masturbation and thought purging and if you chose to read my meanderings, well then, it is your boredom, not mine.

1. No news on the scholarship yet...getting a little antsy and pissy about it. I have the patience of a trapped monkey.

2. Had lunch with FOM and a great eclectic discussion ranging from the effects of capitalism to movies to gossip about people we know. Oh, and he looked deeeeeee-licious today. mmmm, that man has got it goin' on!

3. Went to a meeting for a special committee I am part of. A little boring and a lot like twittling your fingers for almost two hours. The committee is made up of mostly PhD's who like to talk about what they want to do but fail to actually DO anything. Sigh...

4. Went grocery shopping.

5. Typed up some notes.

6. Cleaned up the house and did some laundry.

Wow. What an exciting and stimulating life I lead! Eventually I will post something profound and uplifting, but for now, I'm basically a happily useless blob of flesh.

Today is Father's Day here in the United States. I spent the majority of the day hanging out with my dad and mom at their house. Darling and I brought the kids and spent about four hours just in the company of family. My dad has always been difficult to be sentimental with, and in a way, I kind of prefer him like that. But, today I was reminded of an assignment I had in one of Rob's classes. To be quite honest, I don't recall what the assignment was but I wrote about my dad and how he fueled my love of history, especially the history of working-class people in the United States. Anyhow, as I was typing, I was reminded of that assignment today when I wanted to have a sincere talk with my dad but the words couldn't seem to budge out of my head and out of my mouth. So, in order to purge my thoughts, I will write my dad a letter here.

Dad. Remember all those times that the stupid power would go out and you would get the Coleman lantern and set it in the middle of the table while Mom was making dinner for all of us? You would tell all five of us kids stories about growing up in the wild woods of Northwestern Pennsylvania. Stories of mountain lions and bears. Stories of hiding in two-holers with your brother Harry. Stories of coon hunts, fishing, mining for coal when you were a boy, logging with your dad in the big woods. You would tell us stories of how you went to bed hungry most nights because your dad was too old and worn-down to log and mine anymore. You told us to be grateful for every morsel we had to eat because there were times when you and your sister and brother had to eat boiled potatoes for days on end, with no butter or nothin on them! Your stories weren't just stories of misery and woe, work and lack of money, the humility and shame that being poor meant to you...your stories were full of humor and honor in being a working man.

All throughout my childhood you worked. You worked hard, too. You slaved away in dirty, loud, and sweaty factories. Your hands grew weary and stained from labor. Your back became strong and you always seemed larger than life to me. You were a rock of a man. Strong, determined, able to take care of your own. You taught me to love my working-class background. You taught me never to dismiss anyone who worked with their backs and hands. You were the one who taught me the value of a hard day's work and what the meaning of hard times was.

Through it all though, you still managed to be my dad. You still came home every night and played baseball with us. You still took time out on Sundays, your only day of rest, to take three whiny kids and your wife to that picnic spot down by the creek. You were there when I became diabetic. Your stronge arms picked up my wasted and weary body and carried me into the hospital. That whole week I was in the hospital you managed to make it down to spend your lunch break with me. When I started driving you were the one who fixed the clutch in my car. You were the one who picked me up on some desolate dirt road in BFE when that damn car broke down. When I became pregnant at sixteen, you did not condemn me or scorn me or make my life miserable. Instead, all you said was, "Nita, being a parent ain't just for eighteen years. It is for a lifetime". You held my hand and wept when my second daughter Madison died at birth. You rejoiced when Princess and The Boy were born...whole and healthy and beautiful. You are the one who still is patient enough when I still manage to screw up. You are the one who always remains strong in any catastrophe. You are the one whom I will always look up to. You are still larger than life to me.

With all my love and heartfelt gratitude. Thank you for being not only a father, but a dad. I love you.

--Nita

So I'm feeling a little blah today. There is no reason why. Perhaps it is PMS or something. Who knows? So what is my blah? Well, it is a little like boredom, minor depression, discontentment, and the pressure from too much to do and not having the willpower to do it. My house needs a scrubbing. My research is piled up in the living room waiting impatiently for me to sort through it and I have a stack of reading about the size of eight King James Version Bibles to get through. I want to take Myah shopping for some summer clothes but I don't have the money available. I want to get some good coffee at one of the coffee houses in town but I'm too lazy to leave the house and I don't want our poopy coffee. I thought about watching the Detroit Tigers play but I don't see the sense in spending all that time in front of the TV. The Tigers are still in first place, hee hee. So, I'm just kinda blah right now.

Yesterday was a fantabulous day though. FOM and I went to Grand Haven to a local museum. Very fun. Of course anytime FOM and I go museum touring we have a good time. After the tour we got some coffee and got caught up with each other's lives. I hadn't seen FOM in about two weeks. All in all, it was four hours of museum touring, coffee slugging, wonderful conversation, and slightly perverse jokes. Yep, good day.

So far I haven't heard anything else about the scholarship. I don't know if that is a good sign or not. The committee said that they wouldn't have an answer until the beginning of July so I know I shouldn't be so impatient, but I am anyway. Oh, I did have a reporter for my school call me about the special history course/project that I had last fall and winter semesters. She wanted a student's perspective on it and I talked with her about the project for about twenty minutes. The article is coming out in the fall issue of the college's magazine which goes out to all alumni and parents of students. The special project I spent six months on was about local men involved in the Second World War who went to New Guinea in the South Pacific to fight off the advancing Japanese army. We interviewed veterans and hunted down film footage of New Guinea during the War. Then we took all of the research and made a one hour PBS style documentary that we are hoping PBS will air. The documentary will be shown at several local venues around Veterans' Day and I am quite proud of it. It was a lot of work and some frustration, but it was a worthwhile effort and telling a little known part of WWII history.

Anyhow, that is about it for the lovely life of the Nita.

YAYYYYYYYY!!! Tonight Darling and I were watching a movie with the kiddies and I got a phone call. It was 9:45pm and since we don't normally get calls that late I was tempted to just let the answering machine pick it up. Well, Darling decided to answer it and I am sure glad he did! It was one of the committee members for the scholarship I applied for and she wanted to ask me some interview questions! I spent just over 20 minutes on the phone with her and I think I answered all her questions fairly good and to the point. I didn't mislead anything and I was forthright with the hard questions. I even got her laughing and chit-chatting with me for awhile about the state of education in the public high schools in Michigan (she is a retired school teacher). She asked me questions like "What is going to be the most difficult part of the next school year for you?" and about my career goals and ambitions. I told her at one point in the telephone interview that I didn't really believe in dreams because dreams are something that when you lay your head down at night they appear out of nowhere and don't require anything of you personally, instead I believe in goals because a goal is something you must work for and people don't work for the things they don't want. She also asked me if I had a problem with speaking to a group about the scholarship and being a sorta spokesperson for the scholarship program. I couldn't help myself and I started laughing. I told her that public speaking was defintely NOT a problem for me and, as a matter of fact, sometimes people have to tell me to shut up. I don't have a problem with being a sorta poster-child for the scholarship program because it is run by a group of professionals who are mostly women and they aren't endorsing some company or anything.

Anyhow, it sounds like I am in the running for the scholarship. Very nice, very nice indeed! Woohooooooo!!! And, a big fantabulous thank you to all who have prayed and thought about me and this scholarship. Apparently the well-wishing has worked thus far!

Okay. I know I have blasted the betsies out of my birth state since the beginning of this here blog thingie, but I seriously love Michigan right now. The weather, which is a constant source of both humor and frustration in this state, has decided to humor its masses with truly beautiful sunshine, pleasant temps, and light breezes. Ahhhhhh. I took the progeny times three out and about today. We went to the library where I sat on the floor in the kids' section and read books to my youngest two in an attempt to persuade them away from the computers that the library sets up with attention-absorbing games. Anyhow, pretty soon I had a nice little audience and Dr. Suess and I were the stars of the show. After reading a few books, Princess and The Boy decided to stick their grimy hands on the huge fish tank and the turtle tank and watch the fishees swim and the turtles sunbath under the synthetic lights. I was really tempted to ask Princess and The Boy if they wanted to go swimming with the fishees but I decided I shouldn't because they would have said yes and then I would have had to throw them in. Sigh...it is so hard being a parent sometimes.

After the library adventure I took Princess, The Boy, and Myah for a stroll through the downtown section of my hometown. There is a Ben and Jerry's ice cream store downtown and we simply had to get a small snack there. I had apple pie ice cream. Myah had New York Fudge. Princess had strawberry and The Boy had Phish Food (sorta like Rocky Road). My mom and my sorta sister-in-law (she's not yet married to my brother) and her baby met us downtown and we strolled around after ice cream and peeked into shop windows and oohhhhhed and aaaahhhed over fancy schtuff. Overall, a very pleasant adventure with the progeny and the assorted members of the rest of the clan.

Anyhow, like I was saying, the weather has been fantabulous. Balmy and beautiful and makes me happy to be alive. Michigan is kinda strange when it comes to the weather. In Michigan there is a standing joke that if you don't like the weather wait a minute and it will change. Or, that there are two seasons in Michigan---winter and road construction.

I got a busy rest of the week. Tomorrow I have to take Princess down to register for kidnergarten at the school that she will be attending come fall. Then, I have a mini-interview with my certified teachers for my student assisting assignment in the fall. Then, Darling has a doctor's appointment. After all of that I will go grocery shopping (hopefully by myself!). Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday are researching days at the archives followed up by background reading in the subject matter in the evenings.

I really wanted to go swimming this afternoon since the weather was so nice and since the kids haven't gone swimming since last summer. Of course, their version of swimming is similiar to throwing two rocks into a pool...they sink unless flotation devices are secured to every appendage. Anyhow, I couldn't take the kiddies because Myah left her bathing suit at her aunt's house last year and it hasn't surfaced since. And also because I desperately need a new top for my bathing suit. About a week ago I washed my Mom van and decided to try to tan my uber-whiteness at the same time...hence a bathing suit. I put the bottoms on (my suit is one of those tankini things) and they fit okay. The I put on the halter top. Not good. The word "obscene" comes to mind. You see, I bought the top before the weight loss, before I went down 3 shirt sizes. The top is a halter top which is usually a good thing, especially when you are well-endowed. Halter tops keep your boobs smooshed together and provides a little more support for swimming. But, when the top is overly large it lets the boobies droop and sorta slosh around. And since boobs tend to semi-float in water...well, I'm sure you get the idea. Something about escaped boobs bouncing like balloons on the surface of the pool while little children scream in terror and grown men salivating, well, that is just not something I want to experience. Anyhow, perhaps sometime this week I will buy myself a new top and take the kiddies out for a dip...and I will make sure that the boobs are well-controlled.

Well, the techno-peasant-ness got me. I did manage to scan, load, and get these pictures on the blog, but I didn't figure out how to have them appear on the sidebar. So here's the damn link. Perhaps when I am in a better, and more patient, mood I will try to fool with it so the photos will show up on the sidebar.

BE FOREWARNED...NOT APPROPRIATE FOR THOSE WHO RECENTLY ATE, THOSE WITH HEART CONDITIONS, OR PREGNANT WOMEN!!!

So I have been thinking a lot lately about one of my friends. My friend is going to be married soon and I have this horrendous feeling in the pit of my stomach that friend is making a mistake. Not a horrible mistake, but one of those slow, cancerous types of mistakes that quietly eats away at a person's life. Friend is happy with the upcoming spouse and they have been together for some time, yet I can't help but think friend is making a mistake. Why do I think so? Because friend's soon to be spouse is completely opposite from friend. I'm not saying that opposites can't have a good marriage, but marrying someone who is very different on many levels than you are can be very troublesome and can ensue much heartache. But, friend hasn't come out and asked me for my advice so I shall keep my big mouth shut and smile politely when talk of the upcoming marriage comes up.

I guess part of my apprehension for my friend is because I know how hard it is to maintain a marriage with someone who is so different from yourself. I'm not talking surface differences here. I'm talking differences in goals in life, differences in personalities, temperments, ambitions, drive, and desires. I'm talking about being disappointed that the person whom you have pledged your life, love and fidelity to doesn't understand you at your basic level. I'm talking about trying to explain who you are to the one person who should naturally know you inside and out on a day to day basis. Yep, you guessed it...I'm afraid my friend will be caught in a marriage like my own. A marriage where every day I wake up and choose to compromise with my spouse until I feel like I have compromised away my entire being and all of my hopes and desires for life are somehow flattened and not quite so shiny anymore. I know I am speaking metaphorically and in vague terms, but I can't seem to say what I want because I am afraid. That is quite the big admission on my behalf because there really isn't too much that strikes real fear into me. You see, my friend has become one of my closest friends that I have ever had and I fear losing that friend if I say what I am feeling about the upcoming nuptials. I shouldn't fear losing a friend over honesty but I do. I am determined to keep my mouth shut and allow for things to happen. I will be a friend and be there if the floor drops out later on and help my friend to mend the broken pieces. I just hope that won't happen and that I am wrong about this gnawing feeling that has been eating away at me about my friend's marriage.

I know, I am a little morose tonight. That's what happens when you care about someone and cannot tell them what you really want to tell them.

Holy Shi-biscuits. I don't even know where to begin this posting. I beg your forgiveness for the randomness and disconnection of this posting, but I am angry. On Tuesday FOM and I went to tour that museum in my hometown. No big deal right? Well, we got there at about 7pm to meet up with the man who runs the museum and take our tour. I left my purse and cell phone in the van since I figured I wouldn't need it. Anyhow, FOM and I went on the tour, chit-chatted with a few people, walked about the museum and chit-chatted some more. We didn't leave there until about 9:30 or so. After that, FOM and I went and had a cup of coffee and shared a cookie. Mind you now, I didn't bother with my cell phone and I had noticed that Darling called but I figured I would call him back later. He knew I had a museum tour and that they take awhile. Plus, Darling has some control issues when it comes to me. He likes to know where I am, who I am with, what I'm doing and what time I will be home. Sometimes I get sooooo pissed about that. I mean, come on! I'm 31 years old...I don't need a babysitter. I am fairly intelligent and I was on familiar ground. Anyhow, so I didn't answer my phone and FOM and I sat at the coffee shop and talked. Now when FOM and I get to talking we tend to really talk. By that I mean, we have long extracted conversations and we tend to lose track of time. Anyhow, I departed from FOM's company at a little after 11pm. I flipped open my phone and there was a whopping 42 phone calls!!!!!!!!! What...the...fuck!?

So, of course I called Darling right away to see why in the world I would get 42 phone calls in the space of a little over 4 hours. There was no emergency or anything. He wanted to know when I would be home. Myah was in charge and she was having a hard time with Princess so Myah called my mom to come over. My mom freaked out when I didn't answer the cell phone and assumed that either my blood sugar had gone low and I was in a ditch somewhere or that FOM and I were having some sort of wild sex. Sheesh. So, mom called my brother who called me on my cell. Wonderful brother (who is the ultimate example of a fuck up himself) proceeded to chew on me about being responsible and what-not. Mind you, Wonderful Brother has three kids whom he doesn't take care of, has been accused in three other paternity cases, and started living with a woman who was then married with two kids of her own. Now, isn't Wonderful Brother the perfect one to give me a lecture on responsibilities? Holy poop.

So anyhow, by the time I got home I was classically pissed off. Like red in the face and tempted to start hollering at people pissed. And of course my mom was like, "Well Nita, when you are gone for more than an hour you really need to call and check in. We thought you were hurt or doing something". Which of course my answer was, "I am a grown woman. I should be able to leave the house without having to alert you, Brother, dad, Darling, and everyone else. And, if I was doing something, there would be no way in hell you could stop me".

Anyhow, it has pretty much blown over now but it still makes me angry. Is it too much to ask for a few hours on my own without the umbilical cords still attached? Is it too much for a married woman to have a friend of the opposite sex without people thinking they are doing something? I mean, when does a cookie and cup of coffee translate into some wild sex? I wish it was that easy. And, just for the record, I probably should have called in to see if all was well but time got away from me and FOM and I were having such a good time together. But, just because I was gone for a few hours doesn't mean that I should be treated like some wayward sixteen year old who was out whore-ing around.