The 8th Nerve

Casper has run off with my watch, because it is shiny and makes a noise, and he has hidden it somewhere. So I have been managing this past work week by the digital time on my computer. I don’t like this as much because it does not allow me to visualize time. If I need to run to the bank and grab lunch and I have an assessment at 2:30 and it takes a half hour to get there, what time should I leave work? This takes me a bit longer to figure out without my trusty watch that I can stare at and break down time in visual chunks. I can remember information from a book and be able to tell what side and section of the page the information was on, but if you ask me to add or subtract simple numbers or manage time in my head I will be sadly, tragically inept.

As of January, my region is now the local tri-state area, instead of state-wide which makes traveling easy. My favorite are the visits to Grand Isle County. Vermont has islands? Yes sir, they do. Big ones, too. I’m sure at some point in history Vermont and New York State had a big fight over who would get to have the islands. I imagine that the Green Mountain Boys staked out the island and challenged the New Yorkers to a drinking game and the rest was histroy. Somehow Vermont won. The Champlain Islands are a beautiful, wind swept region connected to the rest of Vermont by a single thread of road. Traveling west of I-89, I first see tree filled marshes on either side, and I imagine blue herons and other long, graceful birds standing among the watery wood. Then I pass Sand Dune State Park, then suddenly I’m out over vast water on either side of me. At this point the scenery is so distracting that I don’t know how anyone manages to stay on the road and not veer off into the lake while admiring the mountains in the distance. In the summer, sailboats bob on the deep blue waves, in the winter, ice-fishing houses dot the flat white landscape ringed by a snow capped blue range. Even pickup trucks are boldly parked out on the ice. The islands lie before me, stretching all the way to Canada. I enter South Hero and it is still Vermont and there are even farms a-plenty out on the islands but something has changed. There is a self-contained feeling, a subtle change in culture, and every road leads to water.

Today I’m going to do that take home final from last semester dammit. Then I’m going to be done, done with that and next weekend I will relax and do nothing at all.

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Feb 27th 2004Uncategorized

I can’t believe, that in this day and age, we have a president who wants to ban gay marriage because he feels that it will weaken society. I don’t see how it can possibly be constitutional, let alone ethical, to state that only certain people can have the right to marry the person they love. If two people want to spend the rest of their lives together, who’s business is it but theirs? What’s the big deal?

The thing that flabbergasts me even more is the concern that gay marriage would “weaken society”. How on earth does finding happiness with another human being, regardless of gender, undermine society in any way? I can’t think of a single rationale for that argument, it just makes no sense. However, by making statements like that, by making being gay seem immoral and questionable, and as a cause for concern and controversy, that in itself is a very successful way of undermining society and teaching others to impose judgment and restrict rights of other people.

This president is just so wrong for this country in so many ways.

Well, after being thoroughly pissed off by that article in the paper, I went on to read about Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of Christ.” I suppose I should wait to see that before spouting off about how much fundamentalist interpretations annoy me. If you are a intelligent human being in any way, yet sit there and insist that everything in the Bible really happened- Noah’s ark, Adam and Eve, walking on water- or if you use it to support your belief that certain people or actions are wrong or immoral, you have found perhaps one of the few ways to instantly piss me off. The Bible is a collection of stories written by men 2,000 years ago and is based on a very different time and culture.

One of my earliest memories is my Mom sitting down with me to explain religion a bit to me. She told me an account of Jesus’ life and then explained that he died. “He died?” I repeated, tremulously. She nodded and I threw myself into her arms, sobbing my heart out. I didn’t even know Jesus, but dying sure was a terrible thing to happen! My parents probably waited a few more years before attempting to explain it to me again.

Anyway, according to the article, Mel Gibson took it all quite literally, plus adding a bunch of extra fundamentalist type scenarios. I don’t know if would be able to see this movie without wanting to stand up in the theatre and throw popcorn at the screen. I believe that Jesus lived and that he was an extraordinary preacher who was in touch with something deeply spiritual. He had the ability to share it with others. He hung out with second class citizens of the time- women, people with disfiguring diseases or disabilities, prostitutes. He saw their humanity and accepted them. His disciples all went back to their scrolls to try to put this amazing man and his vision into words. They had a bit of trouble explaining something so extraordinary and uplifting and all that, so they created a bunch of metaphors. “How about,” they said, chuckling to themselves, “we make Jesus be born of a virgin!” They thought that might be a good way to express how special Jesus was.

Then, particularly at the time when churches were powerful political institutions whose authority was not to be questioned, people actually went and took this quite seriously. Wars were fought in the name of religion, people were shunned and killed in the name of religion. People used the Bible to justify actions that were completely the opposite of anything Jesus ever intended. Worship services became cemented in stone and quite unwavering in what is the definition of belief and of what really happened. God and Jesus are stereotyped as bearded, sandal wearing divine beings in heaven. The spiritual meaning, the experience of a power or energy that is beyond us and in us, becomes lost under so much fundamental interpretation and old fashioned stereotypes that no longer apply.

I don’t know where the meaning went or what it is exactly, but it ain’t that anymore.

I think Jesus should be president though.

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Feb 25th 2004Uncategorized

after writing my paper over twice, i turned it in with a note about my little disaster. i get an email from the professor saying “it’s monday, I received your paper.” no expressed empathy? nothing?! ah well..

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Feb 23rd 2004I Peeved When

Do not ever, EVER, email notes and the beginning of your paper as an attachment to yourself. Do not ever, EVER, open that attachment and then write the entire paper except for the concluding paragraph.

I wrote it and saved it repeatedly while doing so. Today I woke up and sat down with much relief to write down the last, concluding paragraph. I opened up my paper and it was just the notes I had sent myself. The entire paper was gone. GONE. Nowhere to be found. Apparently when it is in an attachment, it is in some sort of temporary file that cannot be saved, even though the computer ASKS if you would like to save and makes the “I’m saving your paper for you” noise when you press Save.

Damn you to hell, you frickin piece of junk.

After a half hour of weeping theatrics equivalent to a widow throwing herself onto a pyre, I entered into a state of determined calm. I sat back down and wrote the entire 17-page paper again. The paper is titled How we Hide from Ourselves: The Physiology of the Unconscious. I actually enjoyed writing it, even though I had to do it twice.

The day has passed in a blur and suddenly it is evening. I am still in my pajamas. I am going to go get showered, dressed and Steve and I are going to go out and end this day with festivity. We’re going to party like it’s Friday, baby.

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Feb 22nd 2004Uncategorized

while watching miracle, in the midst of intensive hockey drills and skating there is a quick, random inserting of a scene of three players taking a shower together and sharing a bottle of shampoo.

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Feb 21st 2004I Laughed When

Yesterday, while walking to my car parked by the frozen lake, I could actually feel a hint of warmth in the sunshine and I noticed the sidewalks were damp with trickling water. In one spot, snow had melted enough to expose the lawn and I caught the smell of earth, much in the way a starving man catches the faint scent of meat cooking miles away. Ahh. Dirt. Yesterday was the first day of a string of false promises, infusing Vermonters with hope and energy, even though deep down we know that the first real spring day is still two months away.

Last night it snowed again.

I believe that a long dark winter is worth it. Each moment we spend shoveling snow and shivering in the car for a good ten minutes several times a day builds character. That is what Father Winter says every time we curse the pain in our frozen fingers or drive tensely on icy roads. “Stop complaing, it builds character.”
The lesson is to endure, to wait, and to become stronger. I appreciate endurance. I would not have survived adolescence if I did not understand endurance.

Then that spring day arrives and everything in my body wakes up and rejoices. There is no feeling like it. The darkness has passed, and I have survived. I want to be drenched in sunlight, I want to run forever. I uncoil and stretch in happy, expansive relief. Never without the depth of winter could I truly appreciate the beauty of spring. A long winter is worth it to me just for those first few days of spring and I would not give it up for an endless summer. Without winter, warmer climates would only become boring to me and I will take it for granted. All of life is a phase of passing through darkness into joy and back again.

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Feb 19th 2004Uncategorized

Three day weekends are the best, even if I had ever fretful papers and assessments on my mind. Steve and I celebrated Valentine’s Day by booking a hotel in Waterbury. We swam in the pool, sat in the hot tub, and nabbed a seat at a quaint Vermont restaurant filled with dressed up couples who booked weeks ago. There’s something relaxing and fun about staying at a hotel. Even snuggling in the bed to watch the comedy channel feels extra special. The satellite was struck by lightning, the room was cold, there was no hot water in the shower, the continental breakfast was in a state of confusion and we were way overcharged but we still had a great time.

The next morning we continued on to Newport. A surprise retirement dinner was being thrown for Steve’s Dad. We thought he might be suspicious, as we made up excuses for going out with friends so that we could go set up the camcorder and pictures at the dinner. However, Jim was quite surprised when he walked in. The whole thing was wonderful. Several people got up to share about the people Jim has helped, his knowledge, dedication and professionalism for 25 years as a surgeon. He was truly talented in what he did. I think that is probably the ultimate achievement in life- to be able to retire with the knowledge and satisfaction that you have truly accomplished something by being good at what you do and by making a difference to a community. For someone in their 20s who is only just beginning, there is a sense of awe and worry. Can I ever do the same? Am I any good? Am I going in the right direction?

I hope so.

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Feb 17th 2004Uncategorized

Steve: “Yeah, he got a phone number from an Estonian.”
Me: “He got a phone number from a custodian?”

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Feb 17th 2004I Misheard When

i read this
i am so very pissed!

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Feb 13th 2004I Peeved When

my cousin steve told us the story of a cat named mr. pip.

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Feb 13th 2004I Laughed When