A rant.

I've been browsing an online dating website lately. It's great entertainment. Only one out of every 30 guys seems to have any ability to use words. There are a few stock phrases that you see over and over...I really think they just copy and paste each other's profiles."Chivalry is not dead"; "Do nice guys finish last?" "Part teddy bear"...Good god. One of the phrases you see in almost every single one is, "I know how to treat a woman."

This fascinates me. How, in fact, is a woman supposed to be treated? I have two theories as to why they are saying this.

1. They think that "being treated like a woman" means flowers, candy, door-holding, being given presents and inane flattery. They also think that women like this. So if they say they know how to do that, women will like them.

2. It's some sort of ############ innuendo.

Regardless, I just can't imagine saying anything like, "I know how to treat a man." What, bring him his beer while he watches the game and swan around the house in a negligee? I know how to treat my man! Could anything sound more archaic?

How is it possible to be a human being living in the world today and not realize that the "way to treat a woman" is to treat her as a friend? With respect and kindess? Treat her as a unique human being who is not to be put on a pedestal nor put down for your amusement. I would treat any man the same way.

How is this not obvious?

where troubles melt like lemon drops

Dress: Vintage with the original tags, $2 at the Salvation Army. Cat: Fat and fluffy and entertaining, $30 at the local shelter.

I just read an amazing book which I'm prepared to bet you haven't read. The librarian tells me that I was the first one to check it out since it was purchased..six years ago. Did you know that a man named W.C. Minor, a primary contributor to the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, did it all from inside Broadmoor Insane Asylum, where he lived as an inmate? Because of schizophrenia manifesting as extreme paranoia....and guilt...not to be a spoiler, but the man felt that perhaps God would forgive him for certain spicy thoughts if he..well. Too bad that eighty is a bit old to start a new career as a castrato singer. A thrilling read! *bright smile*



The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary

Hey Ma, I gradyeated!

I just watched The Squid and the Whale. It was so real and hit so hard. The characters were so true..and the issues so powerful. Your parents and their love, sex, what potential these things have to be land mines..they are like the giant forces, the squid and the whale, battling it out. They are so huge and dark and powerful that just witnessing the fight can make you do things you can give no reason for at all. What makes us lash out and why in the way we do? I read The Stranger by Camus the other day, and it was clear to me there was something I was missing..and this is it, or part of it. In the face of death, sex, and love, people do destructive things that make no logical sense. Why? Why? Because nothing we do matters in the face of death, or because the breakdown of love is overpowering, or because sex is too frightening a concept, outside of love, to handle? And if love dies, then where does that leave us?

Rocky mountain high

I passed student teaching! There's a whole passel of thought and growing and pain and stories in that which I am not yet ready to discuss. I'm moving to Colorado in 11 weeks! They use sheep to mow the grass by highways in Colorado. This was at least 50% of my decision-making process.

Knitting!

I finished this in four days during my vacation to Colorado. It's a modified Forecast by Stephanie Japel, free pattern on her website and Knitty. I used size 10.5 needles and good old dishcloth cotton. I didn't actually follow the pattern, I started off with it and then sort of went my own way. It's getting a lot of oohs and aahs! The ribbing hits me above the belly button, so it's a sort of bolero thing. Anyway it's cute and light and it makes me happy! Enjoy!

A full life

Well. This will be my first single Valentine's Day in many a year. In theory I'm not upset--I've had more than my fair share of not-alone valentine's Days, and it's time I got to take the other side.
Still, I'm not kidding myself. It's going to be tough. Really tough. I expect there will be many a moment when the tears are going to come. But I'm determined not to mope around, or go on a date with someone I'm not in love with and deal with all that pressure. I'm going to enjoy it like I did when I was a kid! I've gone through an awful lot of manifesto days, when I swore to be a stronger person from that moment on. It doesn't work. I've accepted that you can't call love hate and have it really be hate just because you want it to. You can't stop feeling pain because it's inconvenient. The harder you deny your own feelings, the harder you will fall, and you will break bones. I accept that I am healing, that I will feel differently all the time, and that moving on isn't something you can force. A rebound is not the answer. I'm sort of pleased to find that I get no kicks out of using men. That's a lot more mature than I ever thought I was. So there's that at least.
I'm even amazed to find that my teaching is filling up the gaps in my life, and that I even get joy out of it. That I don't feel lost anymore. At least, not most of the time.
On the other hand, I'm developing more old-maid habits and preferences by the day. I'm not sure if it's being a professional husher for loud kids, or if it's not having a man to impress. I prefer medicinal herbal scents, pajamas with discreet stripes in sober tones, and the highlight of my average week is Tuesday, because House is on. My heart actually beats faster when I think about it.. my ideal man, apparently, is a crabby Brit. I'm twenty-two and I knit obsessively. I'm an English teacher who enjoys puns a lot more than is actually healthy. I smell of lavender and basil. The other day I even heard myself say, "Have some respect for the Word of God!" And so, my friends, I will die alone. Except for my cats. They will still love me.



Here is my game plan for the Day of Doom:

1. I will make extra-special personalized heart cookies for my students, cooperating teacher and principal.
2. I will buy myself flowers. Probably Gerbera daisies in red, yellow and orange. I really always liked them better than roses.
3.I will make funny, irreverent Valentines and mail them to my friends and family back home. When I'm in a relationship I forget to be generous to the people who really love me and are really, truly committed to me.
4.I will buy a Veggie Lover pizza from Pizza Hut: I haven't had one in years, a bottle of the cheapest, sweetest red wine available, and watch American Idol with my cat at home. Also some chocolate. I can spoil myself better than anyone else can.
5. Next weekend, my dear Heather will come up to visit, we will go see the Vagina Monologues and go out to dinner.

Beautiful Spy Sweater

After three months of work on size 7 needles, it's finally here. I shall seduce very important people and obtain very important papers and be generally sneaky, in a sexy sort of way. I shall also wear big sunglasses.





Based on the Fern Diamonds Cardigan , but with 6/2 ribbing instead of lace. Yes, it's Red Heart Super Saver. I'm okay with that. Sorry, I was totally unable to get a good picture of the stitch definition..that's black for you, but you've all seen seed stitch before. Here's the best I could do of the front.




And the back: