November 2005 Archives

merci.  danke.  gracias.  thank you.

for an amazing husband.

for three ungrateful cats who love me.

for the chance to travel.

for new friends.

for wireless internet, dvr, and ipod.

for a husband who loves christmas as much as i love halloween.

for good books to read.

for reading.

i thought about writing an ode to why this creepy little clown marionnette is so creepy.  creepy creepy creep.  but i got lazy and decided to recount a story from my childhood.

it reminds me of when i was a child and was so excited to go to one of the evil empires to meet its clown.  you know the one.  the one that has the addictive french fries and the fountain coke at the right percentage.  yeah, that's it.  you know you crave it too.

so.  i remember being so... elated, pee my pants excited,  about getting to meet ron.  that clown.  i had to be all of four.  my mom gets me there.  i remember talking to her in the car all the way there about meeting him.  excited i tell you. 

we get out of the car.  there he was.  outside of the evil empire where the beef will kill you.  mad cow and all.  there he was.  all tall and clowny and red and yellow and happy and and and and creepy.  creepier than the clown in "it" creepy.  just down right clownish. 

so i did what any self-respecting child would do.  i screamed.  not that wailing scream.  no.  the one they tape to put in movies.  the one that ressembles the tea kettle whistling to be made into tea.  the one that shatters glass and gives you chills like nails down a chalkboard.

my mother picked me up and took me home.  this clown, this doll, this puppet, i mock you and your desire to take over the world with mad cow.  you won't get me.

so as i sit here and work on my presentation for the conference, i cannot help myself but look out over the harbor here in baltimore.  i love the water.

something peaceful with grey skies and the promise of rain in a port town.  you know how there are some people who are plains people, or mountain people, or woods people?  well, i am an ocean kind of people.

it wasn't until my teen years that i was introduced to the great waters and the chill in the air, that salty smell, the sound of the lapping waves.  i love it.  it touches my soul and makes me breathe deeply.  it's hard to work with a view like this.

on the massage front: still waiting.  so, t, i stick my tongue out at thee, at least until i get that massage!

a week ago, my husband, the man i love, the man i adore and have promised to spend the rest of my life with, the man who brings home the bacon, that man of mine promised me a massage.  yes.  a massage.

he then asked if i would accept a rain check because he was so tired.  i agreed.

lets backtrack a moment in our five year relationship.  thomas, on numerous occasions, too numerous to count, we'll use the term "infinite" here, has promised an infinite amount of massages and frequently does not follow through.  he follows through on everything else -- and then some.  but not on the massage.

so here i sit.  in my purple chair.  yes it is purple and i love it.  it is 7.47 and my husband who even admitted this evening over dinner that he owed me a massage -- his terms, owed -- is asleep on the couch.  what do you think the chances of me getting a massage are?

do know why my family thinks i don't work?  because of photos like these.  these photos of my trip(s) to paris don't look like work to them.  that's why.

but i know i worked my birthing wide derriere off today.  i taught, graded, went to that crazy time suckage thing called the french table, had a meeting to recruit students to go on my study abroad program.  i am exhausted.

you know why they don't think i work?  because how do i explain to them what i do for a living?  what reasonable explanation can i give?  how do i explain the prepping, the grading, the teaching, the presentations, the conferences, the meetings, the emails, the study abroad?

i don't lie about how great my job is.  how wonderful it is.  how cush.  how fun it is to goof off around rodin sculptures like this one.  how great it is.

but damn.  i work hard.

fall is here and the ginkos have finally turned yellow practically overnight.  so our street stinks.

in my office, i have a beautiful view of the neighborhood where i live.  the old trees that tower above the houses only allowing views of rooftops in the winter.  the sun was hitting the trees just right offering a clear and clean fill light making all the oranges and reds blend and twinkle like a painting that an impressionist painted a hundred years ago.

it was mesmerizing and made me excited for when the leaves would finally fall, in anticipation of the coming spring when all is green and bright again.  the spring, when i can go outside and feel the warm sun on my cheeks and not have a twinge of cold tickle my nose and chill my toes.  weather can be so enchanting.

sometimes people come in a complicated package.  sometimes, the packaging is simple and neat.  personalities, characters, appearance, etc.

if you go by my name, jeorg, pronounced george, i am earthy and farmerish.  by my sign, taurus, i am earth, by my moon sign, taurus, i am earthy.  by my appearance, hippie chic.  one nice, neat, simple package.

so how do i explain the princess?  the bow on top explains it all.

so i have recently played apples to apples and cranium or the first time.  i got my team to guess claw-foot tub in cranium.  the men were thoroughly impressed with my acting skills.  i teach for a living and do a lot of acting in the classroom.

i loved both.  you can see thomas absolutely enchanted in the background.  he is the devil.

isn't he cute?  i do love halloween so much and it was nice to see people i think we may one day become friends with.  i like them.  they are from california, but they'll adjust to kentucky and our barefoot ways.

i have nothing to say.  no funny anecdotes.  nada.

so why do i feel like i should have something to say if i blog?  why do i have to have something?  isn't mediocrity good enough for the 5 people that read my blog?  can't i be boring some of the time?  assuming, of course, that i am entertaining some of the time as well.

i too feel the need for some ennui every so often.  without it, one would not have so much fun reading mme bovary.  of course, i don't enjoy reading it, i usually can't wait until she dies and skip ahead.

i think that is why socks sleeps in the suitcase.  ennui and mediocrity.  why else would he lick his fur off?