chubbybirds's blog

i have more to say

yeah, I read the Power of Now. I dug it....and forgot it. Sent it to my sister so it could change her too. Still recomend it. Should buy it again. In my critique, (of Beats that I am reading as part of my 6 books at once plan) William Buroughs said something about they said he had to be a writer; he sucked at everything else, he was an observer. But he hated his writing. Maybe I am a writer. I used to be a writer. then I thought I was a painter. Got my degree in that, but then had two babies in a row and forgot about it. I have a solo show in June. I can't ever stay up past the kids though. to paint.

i am an obsessive compulsive geek

I used to write stories in grade school. In high school I wrote sex charged poems of teenage angst. Now I write lists. Most of my lists are future oriented and most of those involve finances. I love to write budgets, figure out our dismal finances like a puzzle, but I'm no math whiz. My handwriting is getting smaller and neater in these lists. sometimes they are about who I want to be, in case I forget, because I can"t stay focused. I hate myself because I can't trust myself - so genuinely passionate about the topic of teh day, only to become the topic of teh day. I am reading 6 books at work right now,

my dream

I dreamt I ran into a sexy old a**hole boyfriend and we showed each other our new tattoos in the men's room. Then I was falling in a parachute, tangled with a hot air balloon. He was falling alongside with only some helium balloons up his shirt to break the fall. I wrapped my legs around him and we fell together and then had the kind of good time you dream about dreaming. It always bothers me for the first few hours of the morning after dreams like these that I'm married. Like I honestly can't believe I bought into monogamy with him.

thoughts on my low cost/artist/family co op dream

A co housing development is moving along in my very own Midwestern hometown, but I can't afford to move there. When I was very little, amongst other creative endeavors, I would plan towns, the littlest city planner that could. When I was in high school I aspired to join a commune in the mountains. As a parent I have found co housing, which my husband agrees to. I want to build the village. I've always wanted to build the village. I used to think I had to move somewhere cool or more beautiful first, but, living in a whole other country now, I'm thinking Aurora is as good a place as any. Why can't it be Chicago's Brooklyn? It has diversity, affordable cost of living, plenty of (gorgeous only to me) old warehouses that are crying out to be rehabbed. The acme artist co housing group is all filled up. I am again cycling through my "I'm gonna start my own" idea (present in the "jen's ideas for the future" rolodex, popping up about every six weeks, resident since '92)

any lawyers or law students out there?

Why I'm thinking about going to law school:
I am shocked at how injust our government is.
I am bored with my teaching job.
I want to help people.
I think I can make a small but important difference.
I want to be challenged and I think I could do it.

Why it would be particularly hard:
I have a one and two year old.
I think I'll need a second bachelor's to iron out my 2.99 GPA

Any advice on human rights law or mamas in law school?

blog 3

I have been trying to make it work with the dh. Amidst a friendly conversation on his lap I said I felt guilty every time I talked to him on the phone(while out of the country for 12 days for a family funeral.)
Him: Did I really MAKE you feel guilty?
Me: No, I just felt bad because you sounded bored and lonely because I was gone.
Him: I was bored and lonely before you left.

I got off his lap quietly and we haven't spoken since.

blog number 2

Today I wore my husband's gigantic red western shirt (complete with pearly red snaps)to my teaching job. I got a few double takes. Japanese students are not polite or dilligent or studious anymore than the vagabonds I went to high school with. One student drew me as a boy today. Most teachers wear a suit, but I can't ever seem to remember to go to the dry cleaners. I bought one suit for this job. Linen. It was on clearance. When I arrived to meet my supervisor for the first time at the airport, I had baby puke on said suit, the middle button was gone, I had cookie crumbs stuck to my butt, and of course it was wrinkled. I don't even know why they make clothes out of linen. What I really want to do is wear my pajamas to work. Instead I am going to bed in said Western wear.

blog number 1

It's raining and 2:30 AM.... I just secretly searched the name of the best friendboy who broke my heart in high school on google, which led me to some thoughtful poems of his from college and the info that he is a daoist teacher on the other side of the country, writing passionately poems against the war. Why would I do this? I havent spoken to this man for seven years and he still shows up in my dreams. I was so jealous when he went to NYU and then traveled around the world to study religions in the country of their origin, while I fumbled awkwardly and broke at the local community college. In our last conversation ever, I told him I was going into the medical field because I had to get a real job, while he studied art history and philosophy at 30,000 a year. Of course I did nothing of the sort. I graduated by the skin of my charm with an art degree and a baby and now I'm living in Japan just for kicks. So I had to cover my web tracks so that my husband wouldn't feel weird when he saw I searched this guy, so I hit hipmama real quick and low and behold a new format and everybody up and chatty again. Not quite the butterflies of my last search for dream-man-via-eyes-of-the-past, but better anyway.

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