Insomniac's blog

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.