Now the Work Really Begins

Yes. I'm in.

The signature came through (not without a few hassles of course). I will be teaching not one, but two college courses beginning next week. Suddenly I have to put two syllabi together, plan 15 weeks of class meetings for both classes, fill out a stack of paperwork for HR*, get my fingerprints taken and a TB test done and buy a parking permit. All before Tuesday. Today is Friday.

This is an emergency hire situation. I believe that everyone involved understands that some things won't be done before Tuesday. The four books for one class are ordered and three of them are already in the bookstore. The three books for the second class are ordered and will be in the bookstore next week. Oh, I forgot to mention that one class is on the Santa Rosa campus where I currently run the writing center. The other is in the evening in Petaluma where I live. Yeah, I'll be a very busy little bee until mid-December. I am not complaining. But for a couple of days I wasn't sleeping well at all. My brain would not turn off.

I am very excited. This week I was able to sit down and work with a few students in the writing center, which is simply my favorite part of the job. It felt so good to interact with them and their writing. Staying where I am feels like the right place to be. That may change. When or if it does the change will be okay and I'll move on.

For now, it is so very nice to feel good about being where I am.



*The stack of HR paperwork says that it must all be completed and returned no later than 5 days before I begin work. The paperwork came to me yesterday, so according to the directions I should have had it back to them yesterday afternoon. Yeah right.

Anticipation

Waiting.

I feel like I have spent a great deal of my life waiting.

I'm not talking about waiting in line, I don't often have the patience for that, I'm talking about waiting for things in life to happen.

I spent way too many years waiting for my parents to come get me. And chunks of time waiting for boys to call. And years waiting for my hubby to stop napping and help take care of things around the house.

There are sometimes when waiting is easy because I turn off my brain and space out. This skill is reminiscent of childhood and sleeping during long car rides to make the time go by faster. I go into a self imposed waking sleep mode when waiting for doctor's appointments or for time in a day to pass before a special date.

I feel like I've been waiting for my professional life to start since I finished graduate school. Initially there were very legitimate obstacles in my way, like dying parents and grief. And in all honesty, things have been moving, albeit very slowly, in the right direction.

This weekend I am waiting for one more signature on one piece of paper that will allow my department to hire me so that I can teach a college course. In theory, the signature is a formality, almost certainly to happen with little or no struggle. Nice theory, but I have been through disappointment at this job and know better than to assume all will work out as planned. I tried very hard not to get high on excitement, I know better. But it's hard and my brain simply won't stop planning classroom assignments and activities. It is impossible to space out or go into a waking sleep mode because I have other things to do. Consequently I can't turn my brain off.

In the meantime, the anticipation is killing me. And it's exhausting. Will I know on Monday? Tuesday? Good God, I hope so.

That's The Thing About Vacation

It's re-energizing.

I wish now that we had planned our vacation earlier in the summer. Last year, for so many reasons, we ran–sprinted–out of town in mid-August to escape the death and destruction that was plaguing us. This year we very civily looked at the calendar and chose dates according to what seemed to work around the rest of our life.

My goals for this summer break (I am not scheduled to work from the end of May thru til about mid-August) were to write creatively and work on marketing myself as a freelancer. In hindsight I realize that I didn't really schedule time to relax or feel. This was a foolish plan because I knew intellectually that I wasn't able to deal with all of my emotions and grief from last summer's losses last summer and would likely have a difficult summer emotionally. (I just can't seem to give myself a break!)

I was off work over spring break and accomplished a lot, and it felt really good. I assumed, erroneously it turns out, that with more time off over the summer I would accomplish that much more. But I felt un-inspired, un-productive, unhappy. Everything felt a bit heavier. Thoughts that would normally flit through my brain instead stayed much longer than necessary and swirled around and around creating a tornado of air and nonsense. On the outside everything slowed down to an excruciatingly slow pace. Movement was more difficult, and I began to feel discouraged about working out, writing, cleaning, working, most things.

I really started to wonder if I needed to change anti-depressants. All too familiar feelings of my lack of worthiness as a writer, co-provider and life partner began to mount. I found myself excited about less and less of the activities in my life. Even packing for Sea Ranch wasn't a big thrill. It was helpful to wrap my mind around the organization aspect of meal planning and shopping, but when asked if I was excited about going on vacation I could honestly that no, I wasn't.

Maybe it is as simple as getting away from the day-to-day, from the familiar, because getting away felt so good. Breathing in the sea air felt restorative. It was as if the air that flowed into my lungs had special molecules of renewal attached to them. The stars above had the nicest things to say amidst their twinkling. Being alone with my favorite people outside of the day-to-day routines at home and work was just lovely. We could just be, or laugh, or talk, or enjoy a movie or music together. Sitting on a bluff or the beach watching the waves crash against the rocks, it is easy to get lost in the waves, they have their own soothing rhythm that pulls my mind away and it goes wandering off without a care, traipsing lightly over the foam and the sand, weaving in and out of the clouds, happy to be.

While we were there I started a new essay, blogged almost regularly, and began to reassess my work area at home. It was clearly time for a change, which I have since made. I moved my desk downstairs and out of the bedroom. I feel a bit exposed down here, but for now I think that is the point, not to be holed up in a corner feeling inadequate.

Now that we are home the heaviness is gone. I am working out regularly again, I am looking forward to going back to work. I updated my website and added some lovely testimonials from past clients. I am mulling the kind of ad copy I need to write to expand the freelance side of my writing and editing. And I'm still blogging!

Thanks to a week away, I feel recharged. That's the thing about vacation…

Seaweed and Sea Lions

We took the puppies out for a much needed walk, and to find a beach for them to run around on. There are several beaches in the private Sea Ranch area, and interestingly, they all kind of look alike. They are all at the bottom of a rather high bluff, the only way to get down to the surf is via man-made stairs. There is always an alcove to the right of the stairs, full of various sizes of rocks, and often enough a large log which is a useful resting place. There is also tons of seaweed that has washed up on the shore.

The seaweed lurks just off the coast like a wild sea garden. One of our houseguests wondered if it was piles of garbage. Other than the occasional bulb I came across as a kid visiting the beach (and the stuff wrapped around my California rolls), I know very little about what looks like an alien creature floating in the water, lurking in plain sight. They resemble a giant octopus or squid in that there is a head and tons of "tentacles." But unlike what I imagine a live creature to do, they simply float, their "heads" sticking up out of the water, and move at the whim of the tide.

During another walk we found ourselves in a grove of trees, many of which were clinging to the bluff that surrounded a small inlet. We were sure that we were watching a seal bobbing up and down in that little area, maybe contemplating exploring one of the tiny water-made caves that we could see. We watched this thing for quite awhile before we realized it was not a sea lion head, but a seaweed bulb. This realization came just after we noticed that the mass underneath the head had several extra limbs.

We did manage to see some real, live sea lions while walking along a stretch of open bluff. They were cute and had what appeared to be normal amount of body mass, and only one tail.

On the second beach we found were piles of seaweed that had washed up on shore. And they smelled. The smell was akin to rotting flesh. Thankfully the beach was just wide enough that we could get some distance away from the largest piles, Molly and Teddy cavorted and played a bit and hubby and I sat on some large rocks. Teddy seems to love being near the ocean, but he also gets nervous when he is there more than a little while. Molly tends to go with the flow more. We sat for awhile on a pile of rocks until a family came down the stairs, with their dog on leash. Two pre-pubescent boys and one young girl proceeded to explore the bottom of the bluff and let the waves wash over their feet while mom held the dog on a long leash.

They were at the opposite end of our little alcove of a beach, so we watched them for awhile, keeping Molly and Teddy on-leash. Things got a bit dicey when all three kids were knocked down by a wave they weren't expecting. There are signs posted all along the bluffs that the surf is very dangerous, so we watched the kids more carefully hoping that they would stay further away from the water's edge. Ultimately their exploring and bravado turned to simply playing catch with water, which you always win unless you wait too long before running back up the beach as the waves move to nip at your heals.

On the way back to the stairs, we stumbled across a dead baby sea lion. It had been on the beach the entire time, and was the reason for the rotting smell. It was a light brown, the exact same color as the other driftwood that was strewn about. I suppose we just assumed that it was a piece of wood when we first walked passed. It is surprising that the dogs didn't notice it before we did. Even more surprising is that we didn't step on it when we were walking over the rocks and piles of seaweed. That would have been a very nasty surprise. Although it looked like a log, you can bet it didn't have the same texture, nor the strength to hold our weight.

Under a Blanket of Stars

We sat on the back deck last night, turned all the lights off in the back part of the house, closed the blinds that cover the sliding glass door, bundled up under a blanket and lay back on our reclining chairs to watch the stars. There are no streetlights in the neighborhood where we have rented a house, and obviously the omission was part of the building plan. Only the occasional car drove driving one of the roads nearby, its headlights dimming the stars a tad. I didn’t go camping as a kid, but I do remember seeing a lot of stars in the sky even at home, even more when visiting friends who lived out in the country. What is lacking in those memories is the awe that we felt last night.

The sky looked–cluttered; it didn’t look clear, it looked freckled. And there was just enough cloud cover to add a dimension of wispy opacity in a non-pattern, as if to add texture or softness to a blanket. The stars were so close that it was like looking up at a blanket that had been thrown over the earth as a protective barrier. I like the idea of a protective barrier keeping us safe even in the daytime. The stars are out there even in the daytime, we just can’t see them, so the blanket is there all the time keeping us safe. Safe from the unknown. Maybe safe from ourselves

I had forgotten that stars twinkle. Oh sure, intellectually I know that Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star is titled such because of the natural phenomenon. I just don’t actually think about it, or didn’t until last night. They did more than twinkle, they shimmered; they invited my eyes in for a closer look and then seemed to move, sometimes in a line, sometimes farther away, sometimes closer. Startled I would bring my focus back down to earth and blink only to see that the stars had returned to their original positions. They were teasing me, playing games from millions (or billions) of miles away, dancing around in the sky overhead, obviously delighted to be free up there in the night sky. Free to be seen, free to twinkle, free to shimmer, free to be part of a lovely, soft blanket we could wrap ourselves in just before we fell asleep.

An Affair to Remember

Remember that first feeling of falling in love? Maybe the first time that you made love with that new special someone? Remember how it smelled fresh and new, how soothing the touch was on your skin. That's how the air in Sea Ranch, California felt to me last night. I sat out on the deck off the hexagonal house we are renting and looked out at the crashing waves of the ocean that were lit by the stars. The wispy tendrils of the clouds danced among those stars twinkling above my head.

It's as if I could inhale all of the physical and emotional into my nostrils and hold them there. It felt decadent and wholesome. The sea air mingled with the breath of the pine trees and filled me with a sense of calm. Serenity. For a brief moment, the air was my lover, the breeze was his arms embracing me.

The wet kiss on the mouth-that was a dog.

This year we brought our puppies, Molly and Teddy. And they love Sea Ranch. They love the yard that holds oh so many fascinating scents, and the deer that watch us pass by while on our evening walks. We haven't yet introduced them to this portion of the ocean, in mid-Northern California. We are above Fort Ross and well belong Fort Bragg.

Northern California coasts are notoriously cold and windy. The water is certainly cold, and yesterday's breeze sounded from the inside of the house like a minor hurricane, but the wind wasn't cold and the sun still shone and it was just lovely. This morning there is some fog rolling in and it looks like it might obscure the sun for the day. Even then, we are so close to the ocean that we can hear the waves roll and crash. For a water baby (I was born under the sign of Cancer the crab) this is like coming home. Like an affair to remember. So, my Irish coffee and I (cup #3 for the morning) are going back out on the deck now.

Meet Willie Brown

Former San Francisco Mayor, Speaker of the California Assembly, and author Willie Brown was promoting his new book, "Basic Brown: My Life and Our Times" at Sonoma State University this evening. I've read that he is flamboyant, self-centered, intelligent, and well-versed on his favorite topic: Willie Brown. All of these things proved to be true. And more.

Willie L. Brown, Jr. is a study in human contradictions. On one hand he is adamant that anyone working as a public servant in political office has only one bottom line to adhere to, serving the best interests of the people. This means that self-serving takes back seat. He also has a tendency to speak of himself in the third person. He never uses the royal "we," but he does talk an awful lot about Willie Brown–by name. He is clear that his role as speaker was to make other members of the assembly look good. He is also clear that he is and was a power broker behind the careers of many high-profile politicians, many currently in office.

He is highly intelligent and not shy in sharing his insights and his analysis. He does not, however, claim to be the cleverest man around. That honor goes (in Willie Brown's opinion) to former California Attorney General Jerry Brown.

My 21-year-old son was my companion. We were the second and third youngest people in the audience. I would put the average age of the attendees at 65 or higher. I took my son because he has an interest in politics. When Fidel Castro stepped down and handed over the reigns of Cuba to his brother, my son had been out of town that day and hadn't heard the news until it was several hours old. He then called and chastised me for not keeping him apprised of this momentous event. We talked for 20 minutes about the potential long-term impacts nationally and internationally of the shift in power. Every other young person (under the age of 25) that I spoke with today didn't know who Willie Brown was. I knew that my son would be interested in spending an evening immersed in political discourse.

The discussion eventually moved to the current presidential race. Brown claimed that Obama has been able to side-step the race issue, but that Hillary Clinton was definitely a victim of gender bias. He seems very clear that if the two were on the presidential ticket together that gender and race would no longer be an issue and that McCain would be left in the dust. He also referenced Doris Kearns Goodwin's book, "Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln" as a potential primer for Obama to follow Lincoln's lead of assembling a cabinet, in advance, of rivals and supporters alike to assure good council for the presidency.

All in all it was an interesting evening, and I would imagine an exhausting one for the guest of honor. He began his day in Montreal at 2:00 a.m. our time. He then flew to New York before returning to this coast and arriving at SSU. The program began at just past 7:30 and when we left at 9:30 or so he was still signing copies of his book. I'm not sure I could survive that kind of day, especially given that it is not be an unusual schedule for him. The man is 74-years-old and has far more stamina than I do.