Wild and Wacky Wednesday: The Drama of the Literate and Dead

Hello crazy kitties and foxes.
It is time for the hour of weird, wacky and wild:

This lady:

Gertrude Stein

and this guy:

Ernest Hemmingway

Used to have a very complicated relationship. It had something to do with this lady as well:

Alice Tolkas

You see, Gertrude Stein convinced a young Ernest Hemmingway to drop journalism and focus on his fiction. This worked out very well for him, and she reaped some of the rewards for that as he pushed and plugged her books left and right.

Speaking of pushed and plugged; word has it that Ernest was overly earnest to see more of Gertrude. He constantly encouraged her to “switch teams” but to no avail. Gertrude kept house with Alice Tolkas until the day she died.

Gertrude is also known for writing one of the first coming out stories and for having some floundering underground love affairs when she studied at John Hopkins.

No doubt this wild threesome had plenty to offer our world.

Stay tuned for next week when we talk about how child slavery bettered the literary world.

Revive Me

Whenever an opportunity for change is near, I get all antsy and I start to become dissatisfied with my life.
Do you do this as well, readers?
As soon as I make a decision about said opportunity (in this case, a job interview), I will settle back down within myself and all will be well.

But until then, the slightest thing will annoy me. I will be bitter and sharp and on the verge of cruel.

I think I just need a good nights rest with the boys. I always do better after some soul stewing: four feet, four paws, a blanket and pillows. Oh, I have things for which to be thankful.

I babysit tonight. I learn something new from her every time and I wonder what she will teach me today. The time flies as we play with toys and sing songs.

Until next time.

Sincerely,
Miss Bitchy Pants

Becoming who I want to be

"I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life-- and I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do."-- Georgia O'Keeffe

Oh snap, Georgia. You do know how to tell it straight.
And so this begins the long process of becoming who I want to be. I am a scared little mouse at a times, and I have to take the dive into becoming who I really want to be.

Of course, who you are has ways of sneaking into your life whether you invite it or not. I have always stood for the under dog, have always felt the need to fight the enormous divide in society between those who got it all and those who have so little. And so it is no surprise that my research as a grad student brings me to critical pedagogy-- Every. Single. Time. And it is no surprise that I married out of my socioeconomic class. You see, you who you are no matter how hard you try.

But what I am talking about changing are those little things: how I spend my evenings, what I do with my writing (try to publish), what I read, who I spend time with. The first step is the little things: completing the to-do list, making the initial change no matter how hard.

I'll keep you posted on how it goes. May Georgia be with me.

Page 277, A glimpse of Love

Today was a half snow day. While I am grateful for the few hours-- I scrubbed my oven, ate, read-- I am not sure I am fully committed to such an idea. I think they should just go for the gold and close for the day-- from a business stance, you already lost some money and from an ethical stance, you are only cutting your chances of killing an innocent student who can't drive in the snow by half instead of obliterating it entirely.

Anyway.

I am reading Her Fearful Symmetry (as I have noted before) and aside from being PACKED full of amazing words I don't use regularly but really should, it is also entertaining.

It will live on my bookshelf for years to come.

On page 277, one of the main characters (Martin) explains love to his young friend Julia, who is half of the twin combo that the book is based on. He states:

"[love is] wanting to please, worrying that she will see me as I really am. But wanting to be known. That is... you're naked, moaning the dark, no dignity at all... I wanted her to see me and to love me even though she knew everything I am , and I knew her."

And although this is not a stunning piece of language that I want to hold to my heart and own (see Shakespeare, "When he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun."); it actually has some real dept and truth to it that is haunting.

I especially like the ending. "and I knew her". Isn't that part of it? Real love is when you still love the person who knows all of you. You do not run and hide and hate them because they know your secrets. You pick your nose in front of them and then reach for a kiss and you go on. That's love.

And as for moaning naked in the dark with no dignity-- shit son. I am thinking of the times Art has seen me puking (self induced from vodka or just the flu) and I know that this quote has merit.

Alright, I am off to the land of work and school-- two places that actually fulfill me, and for which I am thankful. I know, gag me, right? Sorry, but I am good at optimism.

(Oh and I should mention that I think this would be an awesome assignment for an English classroom-- find quotes on love or life or etc, and make a collage of them and then write a response. Oh it makes me tingle inside.)

Up Past Eight, and Other Remarkable Feats

I am awake past eight and actually being productive. I am totally engrossed in my most recent book (Neffineker, Her Fearful Symmetry).

I made cookies (little turd things with peanut butter taste to them-- disasterous) and a cake, to make up for the cookies. I even took a phone call past eight from a friend. I am going to look over her resume.

Yes, I would say I am impressed with me.

I tried to sit down and remember a time in my ife in great detail and write about it. What I learned is that memoir writing has a whole lot to do with being able to laugh at yourself. When you're throwing your parental unit (i.e. "The Time Dad Weed Wacked the Tree) or significant other (The day My Husband Fell on His ass in the Snow)under the bus, life seems easy. But when you are admitting that you are, in fact, flawed-- things get a little tougher. Add to this remembering times in your life that (although they are hilarious) you would prefer to forget, and you have one messy night of reliving before you. And that is so not fun.

I am wondering if stretching the truth will help me on this. Maybe if I say that the other people were truly outrageous, I will forget while writing all those things that I now adamantly regret.
As we get older, we realize who we want to be. The best of us work to become that person. I don't think I give myself enough credit for such attempts, because certainly who I am today is a far cry from the disaster that ran around doing obscene things not so long ago.

Anyway, this is the path of memoir writing. This is the challenge. I accept it...but it won't be easy.

Evolution

As of today, I will become who I want to be.
I will embrace my literary nature.
I will read. I will write.
Corrections: I will read for pleasure. I will write to live up to my talent. I will not waste it.

I seem to have this school thing down pat. I know how to better myself in a very regimented, straight-forward way. If you are willing to give me credit for something, I will do it. But if the person I need to prove something to is myself, I often let it slide.

Today is a fluke, because it is a snow day. So today presents more opportunities for me to embrace such behavior without letting the dishes go or whatever else.

So, this is a great day to reinvent myself.

1. Less tv, more reading.
2. No more than 8 hours of sleep a night. (Sounds easy right? Not easy. Not for me.)
3. Write more days than not. (Ok, so the goal is not even everyday, but come on, this seems achievable and kind)

I commit to becoming the person I want to be.

Here goes nothing....