equilibrium-girl.com

In the Background

i just got back from lunch with one of my favorite co-workers/supervisees. we sat in the park and had a discussion about the way people in our area reacted to 9/11, emotionally and mentally.

it's funny how two people have two different perspectives with respect to whether it people in our area should be justified in "mourning" post 9-11.

the conversation was initially started by his comment that the publicly released tapes from Flight 93 were disturbing content-wise. i made the comment that the audio from the WTC that you hear at the beginning of "Fahrenheit 9/11" had a very similar reaction for me. we talked about the way people in general went about their daily business after 9/11 in the d.c. area afterwards.

i recalled that i never really talked about it to my husband, except when we discussed current affairs. my husband has never turned to me and said "i am thankful that you got out of the district alive"--because, as he confessed to me, he never lets himself think about the possibility otherwise. and whenever i think about that possibility, i immediately work overtime to erase it from my thinking.

i do not think i have come to terms with what 9/11 really means for me and my family. but then again, i am not sure what exactly it does mean. we go about our lives, we work, we fight about cars and then make up again, we pay our bills (well, Conan does), and we appreciate each other's company "simply because,"--and not due to anything else.

but after watching "Fahrenheit 9/11," i came home and cried while rinsing the last load of dishes before turning the dishwasher on. then Conan and i crept silently into The Governor's bed and just lay there with him while he slept, his long eyelashes nestled against his cheeks.

what should we do know? it's anybody's guess.

Stop with the Forwarding

i am going to count how many time's i've been forwarded that "This Land is Your Land" link. it's cool and everything, but after the 5th time hearing about it, it gets just a tad old.

i do like it when Dubya reopens the "curtain" and says "oh, and Dick Cheney too."

The "Women Drivers" Stereotype

It's surprising to me that the "woman driver" stereotype still gets bandied about, even in the most enlightened of car-related forums (which are predominantly male). I cringe whenever the guys talk about "women drivers," but I wonder why the stereotype still exists.

It's probably true that you will see a "soccer mom" type of woman driving full barrel down the Dull3s Toll Road by herself in a huge SUV in the left lane during rush hour. But by the same token, you will probably see as many men driving behemoth SUVs with the same amount of disregard for others. I think it's the type of vehicle more than anything.

Also, I find that men don't share information or discussions about driving techniques or the basic logistics of engine operations, suspension, transmission workings as commonly with women. Car-related discussions and events are often places where guys exercise testorone-related tendencies, be it the "my car has more HP than yours" competitiveness or having the ability to look at scantily-clad women, the latter being the "cars and bikini models go hand-in-hand"—so cars have primarily been the "man's domain." And you can never really improve your skills without improving your knowledge, so if women get excluded by default from these forums, they learn less.

But there are some women that are breaking into the scene. In the professional racing world, there's women like Lisa Kubo, Shawna Marinus, and Leilani Munter. And there are women that are modifying their cars and winning competitions. This tells me that there's nothing inherent in the Y chromosome that results in good driving skills or the ability to understand cars. So why the stereotype?

Rare Early Morning Run

i can very rarely wake myself early enough to run outside in our neighborhood, but on those occasions where this happens, i find that it's well worth the effort. this morning, on my run, i was afforded the opportunity just to think.

i'm one of those people who never gives herself the chance to "just think." in fact, as we speak, The Governor and Conan have removed themselves from the premises so that i can take a break. and what am i doing? going online and writing a journal entry, then showering, and then laying out my beads again...to probably make a pair of earrings and a bracelet. either that or scouring through my fabric stash to start a pair of handbags.

so running is the perfect thing for me to unwind and de-stress, because while i'm doing something, my mind has no other choice but to just run itself. i let the thoughts come to me spontaneously, which is sort of rare. usually, i'm forcing myself to line up my thoughts in a manner that "makes sense." but when i'm running, i don't do that, which is a bit liberating.

this morning's run was nice: an early morning rain had just ceased, and the earth smelled fragrant. i reached the point in my run where i run uphill for about 3 minutes, and as my legs started straining, i switched my thoughts to journal entries and gemstone combinations, and just ran. my left knee was aching dully from all the work i'd done with it yesterday while pumping the brakes to help my husband bleed the brake lines, but it was a bearable sort of pain.

i welcomed myself to fresh mint from my neighbor's yard, of course with their earlier consent.

i need more times like that, where i let my mind just work itself, rather than burdening it with a forced sort of order of thoughts.

Happy Mess

i'm afraid i've made a mess of our kitchen island countertop--only instead of oil spills and wayward granules of sugar, the countertop is littered with gemstone beads. orangey carnelian candy teardrops with rivulets of silver grey natural markings. delicious new jade tumbled nuggets that ache to lay against sun-drenched skin. pretty, dainty olive jade teardrops that feel substantial but sweet to the touch.

there are pretty czech glass beads as well, to be sure. frosted round pink beads that will flirt with the wrapped silver wire eye loops on the back of necklaces. and those beautiful, aurora borealis leaves that my sister gave me for my birthday, which will be worked into a collar-style necklace, when i finally come up with a "just right" arrangement.

the beautiful mess that's there right now is the result of what will be my last purchase from Fire Mountain Gems for a while. they have been so good at featuring pretty things and great prices, that i'd spent way too much money there in the past couple of months. the objective now is to make use of what i already have and come up with creative designs and uses for my bounty.

and with that thought in mind, i'd decided to mentally inventory my stash. i work visually and spatially, with design ideas resulting from the mental "piecing together" of different components. after having laid everything out, i'd come up with at least one "must do" project immediately, with more to come when i mentally arrange and re-arrange the beads in my head.

it's definitely a day for creative acquisitions. mid-afternoon, i'd taken a post-rain walk because i was restless and ended up in the art supply store across the street from my office after a couple of detours. i was so unsettled in my decisions, but ultimately honed in on the row of colored pencils and pastels. having had a fairly dissatisfying experience with colored pencils, i bought a set of pastel pencils and tested them out in my sketchbook in the midst of a work project.

i was thrilled with the way that the pastels hugged the paper. errant smudging is part of the art itself, it seems, and i regarded my mistakes as part of the works. i'm happy with that acquisition too.

About that Whole Motherhood Thing

This entry in a often-read blog hit home with me, for reasons that some of you know about, being that I am currently experiencing many of the things she talks about. I am a working mother in "that" particular field, and so I have many, many thoughts on this issue.

There was a time, when I would have said that it was possible to have a wonderful career and be a wonderful mommy, and that you just had to find a great boss who understood the struggles that you go through just to make things balance out. At that point, I would have also said that if you develop a niche for yourself and make yourself invaluable, you can "do anything."

But it is hard. It is very, very, very hard. In the first place, motherhood is a very lonely thing sometimes--which we never admit to ourselves, let alone to other people. True, it is by far the most rewarding thing I have ever done in my life, but it is also the one that requires the most sacrifices.

When you have another full-time job that can also be very stressful, you can go ape-shit unless you have a lifeline of sorts: people whom you can call and to whom you can cry once you've shut your office door, someone into whom you can crumple into a ball and cry your heart out. I needed a lifeline this past week, when The Governor could not eat or sleep because his mouth was hurting so much, and when I yelled at him because I was at the verge of temporarily losing my sanity. I needed someone to tell me that I wasn't a terrible mommy for yelling at a sick child. (but I wouldn't have believed them if they told me that)

Sometimes I wish I could just stop working, but I can't because I am the primary breadwinner financially, and quitting in this job market is complete suicide. In fact, I try not to think about it, seeing as even just looking for another job is extremely difficult.

I see what a wonderful boy my little one is turning out to be, and yes, everything is fine with him. In fact, things are so beyond my expectations in terms of how wonderful the experience has been. But on the hour-long commute on the way home, I become wistful and sometimes it hurts because I can never get home soon enough.

I got used to coming home occasionally when The Governor was in bed. But the first time I had to do it, my heart broke into a thousand pieces.

I am a firm believer that mothers need to carve out little parts of their life that are their very own, and do things that they do just for themselves, and be interesting....just for the sake of being interesting.

It is an ongoing struggle, I think it will always be that way, and there will be some things (details, relationships with friends, cleaning) that fall by the wayside.

But when The Governor is sleeping soundly in his bed, his beautiful long lashes resting gently on his still-chubby cheeks, I'll crawl into his bed and lie beside him and put my hand on his stomach and feel the inhale and exhale. And at that moment, it just feels like everything is right.

Notes on Jewelry-Making

Just a few notes on jewelry-making.

I'm finding that working with rough, top-drilled briolettes of citrine has been somewhat difficult, because I end up breaking them whenever I try to make wrapped eye loops to finish them. Maybe it's just me, not being as careful as I probably should.

I'm finding that it's hard to get creative with bracelet styles. Variations I've found: multiple strands, charms, varying weights. I'm working on a multiple strand bracelet that you can detach each strand and wear separately, with each strand being a different "concept:" one strand is chunky, the other is a simple sterling chain with accent beads to match the chunkier strand.

I've got a double order of small olive jade teardrops coming in. I can't wait to see what they look like with my larger carnelian briolettes. I bet it will be so pretty.

Open Mouth Sores: Not My Cup of Tea

The Governor has hand-foot-mouth disease. Which is contagious, but only to toddlers, because us older types have developed a resistance to the Coxsackie virus, which is its cause. He has been miserable for the past 36 hours, because the virus causes sores to erupt in the mouth and they are fairly painful and eating is quite a feat for him.

So I'm going to tell Conan when he comes home from volleyball tonight that The Governor ate a whole cup of pudding, he will be totally stunned and impressed. Imagine! An entire CUP of pudding. And he thought his cup of Jello was so great.

Anyway, unbeknownst to me, The Governor got into the box of animal crackers that was sitting on the kitchen table and apparently ate one--so that means we are getting there. Once the sores heal, the kid will be ravenous.

Incidentally, hand-foot-mouth disease is different from foot-and-mouth disease, which is plagues livestock and is kinda deadly, or something like that.