So many things going on. So much on my mind. And like almost everything else I'm responsible for these days, I lose track of it, i.e., my thoughts, in a matter of minutes. Oh. Well. Merry Christmas to those for whom it still matters. I've been up since 2:30 this morning, a consequence of a changed schedule (the university is closed through New Year's) and too much contact with other human beings. This is what happens to introverts when their social quota is exceeded.
Anyway, here's what I find interesting:
1. It would be a good idea, at least in these United States, to put a moratorium on receiving gifts by the age of 40. That way, you have (hopefully) a couple of decades and change to give them away and you don't have to rush. I've owned (and lost) more than I either need or want for a long, long time. Lately I walk around with a mental Post-It tagging who should get what. The sentimental items are the hardest. I don't want my family to be asking each other why I saved one pecan in my mementos box. (A love story.) They can understand the Jesse Jackson for President 1988 button, and I expect them to get a good price for it on e-Bay. But, some of the other stuff, all they'll say before they throw things in the dumpster is: what was she thinking? So, to spare my feelings after death and to spare my family work they won't want to do anyway, I often wish that I had fewer things to decide what to do with. In our family we've gone the quick and dirty route before (see Annals of Marriage, 2009: Cuthbert Burns Down the House Because He Didn't Want to Clean the Bathrooms). But, you can't do that too often. Anyway, file this under First World Problems.
2. Ray and Janay Price. I finally get it, after reading about the longer version of the Killa-from-Manila tape. Those two met when what, they were 15? They complete each other; two halves who make a whole.
3. Today is quiet. Eventually my niece and her mother will come over to exchange gifts and eat. The grown kids are doing their thing(s). The brothers, theirs. We'll all see each other when we see each others. A few phone calls to friends and family far and wide. I wonder when time management self-help books are written if anyone thinks to advise one that if you just omit Christmas you probably gain about 24 more hours in the year. No shopping. No card writing. No travelling. Plus, real life stresses me out enough; I'm old enough (and wise enough) not to add this kind of artificial stress. I got deracinated of Christmas slowly over the years. Part of it was estrangement from my parents (so going home was not an unalloyed joy) and much of it was poverty. Once you decide that you can't keep up with the Jones' -- could barely keep up with myself -- some of us just let go. If that doesn't work move into an orthodox Jewish neighborhood. Christmas, what Christmas?
4. Still enjoying my work enormously. Complex, diverse, challenging and creative. This upcoming semester will be a test of whether I can manage it and another math course. In preparation I made sure I have a very very short haircut so that when my hair starts to fall out from stress alopecia the contrast won't be so severe. You can't say I don't plan ahead!
5. Don't mistake the absence of any remarks about Mike Brown or Eric Garner or Tamir Rice for a lack of interest. (After all, I started this blog because I was incandescently angry about the controversy over the "Ground Zero" mosque.) But, for now I work on the margins of resistance to violence, and if ever I can say something comprehensive about it, I will. This I will say: It's the first sixth of the 21st century and here in the US of A we have to articulate that Black Lives Matter. For me, and many of those my age, that reveals a stunning loss of ground.
When I first envisioned writing this post, it was a lot more interesting and free-rangy. But not wanting to make the perfect the enemy of the good, I said to myself, get something out because you never know when you'll be back here. (This blog is like a seldom visited room in my house. I scarcely know what's in here.)
Ciao, bella. See you when I see you.
Anyway, here's what I find interesting:
1. It would be a good idea, at least in these United States, to put a moratorium on receiving gifts by the age of 40. That way, you have (hopefully) a couple of decades and change to give them away and you don't have to rush. I've owned (and lost) more than I either need or want for a long, long time. Lately I walk around with a mental Post-It tagging who should get what. The sentimental items are the hardest. I don't want my family to be asking each other why I saved one pecan in my mementos box. (A love story.) They can understand the Jesse Jackson for President 1988 button, and I expect them to get a good price for it on e-Bay. But, some of the other stuff, all they'll say before they throw things in the dumpster is: what was she thinking? So, to spare my feelings after death and to spare my family work they won't want to do anyway, I often wish that I had fewer things to decide what to do with. In our family we've gone the quick and dirty route before (see Annals of Marriage, 2009: Cuthbert Burns Down the House Because He Didn't Want to Clean the Bathrooms). But, you can't do that too often. Anyway, file this under First World Problems.
2. Ray and Janay Price. I finally get it, after reading about the longer version of the Killa-from-Manila tape. Those two met when what, they were 15? They complete each other; two halves who make a whole.
3. Today is quiet. Eventually my niece and her mother will come over to exchange gifts and eat. The grown kids are doing their thing(s). The brothers, theirs. We'll all see each other when we see each others. A few phone calls to friends and family far and wide. I wonder when time management self-help books are written if anyone thinks to advise one that if you just omit Christmas you probably gain about 24 more hours in the year. No shopping. No card writing. No travelling. Plus, real life stresses me out enough; I'm old enough (and wise enough) not to add this kind of artificial stress. I got deracinated of Christmas slowly over the years. Part of it was estrangement from my parents (so going home was not an unalloyed joy) and much of it was poverty. Once you decide that you can't keep up with the Jones' -- could barely keep up with myself -- some of us just let go. If that doesn't work move into an orthodox Jewish neighborhood. Christmas, what Christmas?
4. Still enjoying my work enormously. Complex, diverse, challenging and creative. This upcoming semester will be a test of whether I can manage it and another math course. In preparation I made sure I have a very very short haircut so that when my hair starts to fall out from stress alopecia the contrast won't be so severe. You can't say I don't plan ahead!
5. Don't mistake the absence of any remarks about Mike Brown or Eric Garner or Tamir Rice for a lack of interest. (After all, I started this blog because I was incandescently angry about the controversy over the "Ground Zero" mosque.) But, for now I work on the margins of resistance to violence, and if ever I can say something comprehensive about it, I will. This I will say: It's the first sixth of the 21st century and here in the US of A we have to articulate that Black Lives Matter. For me, and many of those my age, that reveals a stunning loss of ground.
When I first envisioned writing this post, it was a lot more interesting and free-rangy. But not wanting to make the perfect the enemy of the good, I said to myself, get something out because you never know when you'll be back here. (This blog is like a seldom visited room in my house. I scarcely know what's in here.)
Ciao, bella. See you when I see you.
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