entropy association

I'm updating my revisited 2006 list of goals again. Interesting to check-in with myself.

I never did produce a 5-minute documentary for CBC, but haven't abandoned the dream. I publish articles regularly in the job that I landed six months ago and still love. I haven't sold any clothes, but have made some. I haven't pitched to any conferences, *yet.* I was accepted to grad schools and offered a hearty scholarship at one, but I have decided to defer my admission indefinitely. I am practing my French with Isaac. We read in French most nights. I have tried Bikram yoga and breathe regularly and deeply in weekly yoga classes. I never made it to the half-marathon-- I had a brutal stress fracture in my foot last summer that postponed my running plans. I am running again, though, 3times a week and love it! And I have a beautiful new home (a rental) with a garden and sun in town. I'll be working on 2007's list in days or weeks to come.

Labels: lists

I'm back after almost a year away and I'm out of season, too. I used to blog during the winter months and go on hiatus in the spring. I have been interested in recording my life and thought I would give my community of friends (one in particular) a break from my relentless emailing.

Isaac will be seven next week and is in the middle of a week-long birthday bonanza. Yesterday, his best friend Dima gave him a matching Beta fish. Isaac has named it "Dr. Vicious," (I added, "The King of Fishes") and he is soooo excited that he has been begging me to clean its tank all day (we'll see how long it lasts). Did my pun-krock teenage days leave an impression on my as-yet unconceived child? I haven't dared to tell Isaac about Sid Vicious. I swear he is seven going on 15.

Dr. Vicious is our second family pet. Isaac's first pet, Inspector Rat, migrated from our house to our compost pile, where he lived happily in a tunnel for several months. He was clever and managed to block his tunnel with the empty tuna can that we had left for him filled with water. And he would come out for snacks. But, eventually he disappeared. I think he ran up the Galloping Goose trail or went for a swim in the nearby river, but Isaac is convinced that he was eaten and still feels sad and guilty about it.

So, last night Isaac asked if I had had fish when I was a girl. My reply: Nope. When I was a woman? Nope. When I was a teen? Nope. When I was a protein? Nope. When I was a pro? Nope. When I was a baby? Ha! This was a trick. "Mom, you were a baby. How would you remember?" And finally, "when I was a protein, mum?"

Now I have a picture of him swimming im my mind. How did he get to be so clever?

Today, as it happened, my dad and stepmother were visiting from Vancouver. Apparently we did have goldfish, when I was eight or nine and lived in England. And my dad had "disposed" of the long-lived fish, when we moved back to Canada. Amazing that I hadn't remembered!

Labels: beta fish

I read in an article recently that community centres have started to offer courses in flirtation.

An expert on flirtation says that she is teaching recent divorcees how to flirt as a way of re-entering their social spheres. Her recipe: look (make eye contact), look away, look again, smile.

Her definition of flirtation is concise: attention without intention.

What I want to know, however, is what the opposite of flirtation is: that is, intention without attention. Because, this is where I'm at in my life. I am full of good intentions, but don't pay enough attention to my dreams and schemes. I'm not talking about flirting here. I'm talking about how I live my life.

Perhaps we might divide people into two categories: people who flirt, and people who flirt with inattention. Flirts and dreamers. What do you think?

It's obvious, but
I wanted
to clarify:

The melo
in melomel is short
for melo
dra
ma
tic.

Imagine this sentence punctuated with purple eyeliner and hysterics.

part 1.
We found out at work today, on May Day, that our votes have been counted and that our application to join a local union has been approved.

part 2.
Today is Beltane, too. And while I didn't celebrate by coupling in the woods, I did plant stakes next to my sprouting peas, watch Claude as he sifted soil magnificently, and recognize the gift of evening light.

part 3.
I just learned that the mariner's call of distress, "Mayday," which was formally recognized internationally in 1948, comes from the anglicization of "M'aidez," "Help me."

May day. Mayday.

I'm revisiting the list of goals I set for myself on January 13th this year.

Here's my scorecard so far (with notes):
a pitch at least one 5-12 minute documentary to CBC (pitched it, but pitch was rejected, because someone had pitched the same brilliant idea the year before. I'll try again.)
r publish at lease one article (anywhere, except here) (Where to start?)
r begin selling clothes that I sew (hmm... I'm holding myself back, because my desk is so small and I can't sew when my room is a mess, which is most of the time. More excuses.)
r submit at least one proposal to present a conference workshop (with Mary) (Hey Mary!?)
afind a new home (bright, clean, affordable, woodfloors, with bathtub, quiet neighbours, green space, and fireplace) by March 1st (Did it! Ironically, it's the same home I moved out of 2.5 years ago)
? find a new job (well-paid and satisfying, in alignment with my values, with reasonable, flexible hours, positive work climate, where initiative and innovation are rewarded) by May 1st. (I applied for this dream job on Friday. Fingers crossed.)
aget accepted to graduate school with scholarships/t.a.-ship for fall 2006 (Received admission from two schools, rejection from another, and I'm waiting to hear about an appeal from the fourth.)
:) try Bikram's hot yoga (Plans in the works to go. Soon.)
arun at least one 10km roadrace (Did it today. Hooray!)
r improve ability to speak in French (Quoi?)
aapply for internship with This American Life (Application rejected, but I'm happy that I took the risk to settle this dream.)

Total 5+/11

And I'm adding to it:
- Run a half-marathon this fall with team of friends and co-workers. We crafted this plan after completing the Times Colonist 10k run today and while we were apparently experiencing a runner's high.
- Figure out what to do with my life (come up with a two-year plan-- where to go, what to do, what to do next) by July 1st, 2006.
- Breathe. Regularly. And deeply.

After an Oscar winning performance last weekend, Isaac got his rat: Inspector Rat.

I'm still in conflict, because we are now responsible for an animal that lives in a cage (the same species, in fact, that we have been trying for three years to keep out of our house) but Isaac has never been more happy.

Yielding as a parent, means yielding my assumption that I am the authority on mychild. As Isaac used to remind me last year, "You are not my boss, mum. I'm my own boss." He is his own authority. I can set boundaries and express my beliefs, but ultimately Isaac understands himself -- his wants and dreams and fears-- the best.

So Isaac's in rat heaven and I'm holding my tongue and watching Isaac grow into his responsibilities as caregiver as I grow into mine.

Isaac came running up the hill from his friend Braden's place tonight: "Mum, Braden's selling his rat."

"How much does he want for it?" I asked.

Isaac ran down the hill and back again. "10 or 15 dollars."

"Why is he selling it?" I asked.

"Hold on, I'll find out," he said. And ran back down the hill.

This went on for a while until I found out, one question at a time, that the rat didn't have a name ("I can name it whatever I want, mum"), was eight months old and male, and was being traded in for a cat for Braden's little sister.

Witnessing Isaac's excitement is one of the most precious gifts I receive as his parent. I was tempted tonight to give in and buy the rat, just to prolong his excitement. I held out, though, and told Isaac we'd have to wait for his dad to come home to have a family talk.

Claude said (flat-out) no (way, no how, no thanks). Isaac cried. And we had a big long talk about what's involved in caring for pets, how a rat might cramp our (spontaneous) style, how pets cost money and get sick and die, and how it's nice to have something to love, but that given a choice, a rat would choose not to live alone in a cage.

Isaac didn't give up. At one point, he fetched his piggy bank and defiantly started counting his change: "Fine, papa" he said, "I'll buy it myself." I told him it wasn't really about the money. We all needed to be in agreement, because a pet is a big responsibility. "We'll have a vote, then," he replied. (I love his determination.)

It was a bittersweet night. I disagree with so much of our pet culture, but at the same time understand that my son, just wants something to love. He cried himself to sleep tonight. And I'm still thinking about his excitement about a rat.

I'm guest-hosting "Big Broadcast," a radio show that celebrates great music by female musicians on CFUV, 101.9FM tomorrow night (Monday, April 10th) between 9 and 10:30pm.

Tune in to hear my Veda Hille special: fantastic music blended with a healthy dose of um's, ah's, on-air blushing, clunky (this is community radio, afterall) transitions, and fun.