ramblings of a rainy Monday.

So I'm back in NC. And allergies are still killing me, maybe even more so here. It's been one of those "wherever you go, there you are" past few days. I'm still not writing anything but work stuff, and even then, not nearly as much as I'd like. It was great to see my old coworkers and get piles of ARCs, but there's this latent restlessness/agitation that just isn't going away. My paycheck still hasn't arrived here yet, which gives me an idea of how this is going to be the rest of the summer. (major fail). Super stressed about work, thesis, money, life.....it goes on and on. Nothing new, I guess.

I don't know if I mentioned this before, but on Facebook several people I've gone to college with have been posting about wait lists for preschools, etc. I don't get it. It's preschool. This will not affect your child's chances of getting into Harvard or Yale or Brown. The cache that preschools have, in my opinion, is total bullshit. THIS is what you're worried about? The "right" program where your child can babble with peers and parallel play with blocks and tinker toys? Eventually learn the alphabet? (Although I remember learning it in kindergarten, even though I learned it at home already). I don't know. Maybe it's just the NJ/NYC East Coast thing. I just have a feeling I'd want to shoot myself if I were one of those people freaking out about where my child was going to go for preschool. Safety, etc - yes, I get that. But the other stuff? Ugh. What ever happened to the local preschool? Have things changed that much? Or is this the whole Parenting, Inc thing again? 


Seriously, though, breathe. Think about it. We didn't grow up with competitive preschool admissions. (what a ridiculous phrase, "preschool admissions."). We didn't have thousand-dollar strollers the size of tanks, or videos purporting to make us geniuses. Our parents didn't have designer 3-D ultrasounds (or 4-D, whatever). Hell, my parents didn't even know if I was going to be a boy or girl. We played in the dirt and sometimes ate it. We didn't wash our hands 24/7. We wore - gasp - hand-me-downs. Because we were toddlers. We didn't care. And we turned out okay, for the most part. For all my enthusiasm with kid stuff and baby stuff, this just irks the crap out of me. I know it's a certain socioeconomic niche that I'm talking about, by G-d help me if I ever become like that. 

on the road again.

Well, I  moved out of the city last week and have been at my mom's in NJ. Spent lots of time with my family, including my cousins, who happened to be up from TX. That was nice. Tomorrow, bright and early, I will be hitting the road for Chapel Hill. I always dread the drive, but it's never as bad as I think it will be. It just gets tedious somewhere around Virginia. It feels like a big state. But I'll have caffeine and cd's, so all is well.

My freelance job is supposed to last through the end of July, and then the second phase starts. They said I'll be able to continue, which is good. So that's a relief. I can wear whatever I want to work and work on my own hours. Yay! I see lots of time in Starbucks and B&N in my future.

I've been exhausted to the core lately. Since going to NJ, I haven't been strictly gluten-free, and it's really thrown my body for a loop, I think. The difference in how I feel is big. Once I get down to NC I will be back on the gluten-free track.

One of the fiction MFAs and I might start a YA book club when we go back. There are really great YA books out there. I just read DIVERGENT, which was really well-thought out and has a very strong female protagonist. Sort of like Katniss from the Hunger Games, but more raw.

Anyway....should get back to work. I'm behind on stuff today, since my mom and I went last-minute shopping for K-cups. (And a new pink ribbon Tervis tumbler, which will hold my endless cups of coffee I will be consuming).

one last night.

I'm sitting at my living room desk in my apartment, cooking Annie's gluten-free mac-and-cheese and trying not to die from the heat. I'm listening to "Carolina In My Mind" and "Sweet Home Alabama." That's right....I go back to North Carolina soon!!!!! But more specifically, tonight is my last night in the city. Oddly, I'm kind of sad, but not so sad that I want to stay. I've been busy on a medical writing freelance job, and this weekend has been full of work and packing and cleaning. 


And - I finally met my next door neighbor. I held the elevator for her while she was locking up her apartment, and we got to talking in the elevator, because I had a bunch of recycling I was taking down to the basement. Banner day today. 
And ironically, her name is Faith. 


Still looking for a regular job down South. I emailed the guy at NCSU in the English department that Jill McCorkle told me to email, and got in touch with the Chapel Hill Library. *fingers crossed*. 
In all honesty, I need this time out of the city. I'm worn down, exhausted, have sensory-overload and need to recharge my batteries. I need to fill up my heart again.

But I did it. I survived the year. :)

books and deep thoughts.

Stack o'summer books

Magazines: The New Yorker, like any good MFA student; Publisher's Weekly; Garden & Gun; and the new J.Crew catalog - which they are now calling a "style guide"

So. Above are what I have to look forward to this summer. The bookstore around the corner from me gives store credit for books, and since I had a ton of books, I was able to make several trips to the bookstore and get credit. This is a very good thing, since I am trying to save money. Thrown in there are some ARCs I was able to get, and who doesn't like free advance copies of books? 

I am kind of stunned right now. My old neighborhood in Chapel Hill had an elementary school in it - it was right across from my first townhouse there. The neighborhood is a planned community, and it resembles Pleasantville. There is a village green, people see each other in the co-op and have breakfast together, and many of my professors and even my doctor lived in my 'hood. Each house had a porch to encourage socialization, and the homes were/are beautiful. There were houses, townhouses and apartments. It was perfect, and I loved it. I still do. There are parks, a dog run, green spaces and a running/bike trail. It's an awesome place, in my opinion. The family I babysat for would leave their house unlocked, and really, there was no crime there. I don't remember any, anyway. Well, today, a woman was shot multiple times by her significant other while in the carpool line, waiting to pick up the kids. The same carpool line that I would wait in countless times last year, waiting for the little boy to get let out of school. In broad daylight, in front of the other parents waiting in the carpool line, he drove up to her and shot her. You have to know, this is unheard of in this neighborhood. I mean, this is a place where little kids ride their bikes to school and park them on the lawn outside - and nothing happens to them. Everyone says hi and smiles. In the summer, there is music on the village green every sunday, and on fridays and saturdays, there's outdoor movies on the green. It is pretty idyllic. 

I know crime happens everywhere, but wow, I am just shocked. I can't even put it into words. 

ain't no doubt in no one's mind that love's the finest thing around....

I'm listening to James Taylor's "Carolina In My Mind," and without fail, it still - every single time - brings a smile across my face. It still astounds me how much I've fallen in love with North Carolina and UNC. I don't even know how this happened, or why it endures. After 10 months here in NYC, I am glad that I have not completely reverted back to that city girl. I still have my inner Manhattan compass, and I no longer expect people to smile or say hi to me while walking down the sidewalk, but I still make an effort to talk to salespeople and cashiers, and hold the elevator if I see someone getting their mail. And when I go to NC in a week or two, I will, once again, be greeted with strangers striking up conversations at Starbucks or at the library, people smiling and saying hi at the park, running with my running group, and the slower, friendlier life in Chapel Hill. There is something about that that truly warms my heart, literally.  It's funny, I kind of dread going down there, because I know it will be that much harder to come back to Manhattan.

Some things I want to do this summer:
- go to as many "movies and music on the green" as possible
- gluten be damned, eat my southern fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans at Top of the Hill
- sit on the rockingchairs at Maple View while eating homemade ice cream
- work on my thesis outside at the Carrboro Weaver St Market
- drink Diet Cheerwine ice cream floats and eat hush puppies (again, gluten be damned) from CookOut
- go to author events at Flyleaf and McIntyre's
- if I run into her, finally get my picture with Jill McCorkle at one of the events
- meet up with my MFA friends at NC State and UNCG
- go to a North Carolina BEACH!!!!! Would you believe I haven't been????

I can't wait.

I am.

Ten years ago this weekend I graduated from college. Wow. In some ways, it feels like I have lived several lifetimes since then, and in other ways, it feels like it was just yesterday. Ten years ago, the night before graduation, we all got back our letters to ourselves that the school had us write, on a college notecard, the first night we got there. And then I proceeded to get drunk, along with the rest of my class and our families, in the tent party the school threw for us. I remember it as a good night, and I have the pictures to prove it.
Ten years ago, I thought, at the ripe old age of 21, that I had my life figured out. I was ahead of the game. Only 21 and heading to a doctoral program in clinical psychology, I actually had "Jaime's Life Plan" written out. I swear. Little did I know.
Back then, I was consumed with the need to avoid making "the wrong choice." Like my life would take an irreversible turn if I did. I had no idea that some of those "wrong choices" would ultimately show me what I was and wasn't good at, and where my passions were.

I had no idea that the surgery I would have on my foot two days later would be the first of three, and result in chronic pain.

I had no idea that my biggest fear at that time would ultimately come true - I would not be a doctor, ever. And I am finally okay with that. Although I admit, I envied the doctoral robes I saw graduates carrying around here, with those velvet arm stripes.....

I didn't know that I would lose an aunt and a cousin, or gain a nephew, in the next decade. I never would have thought I would lose friends to cancer or see many more live with it.

I never imagined I'd learn to think of myself as an adopted Southerner, or grow to dislike New York.

I'd have scoffed if you told me I'd still be single. But when I see my old friends and those who are significantly younger than me move to their second - and even third - marriages, I am glad that I am waiting to marry. I only want to do it once.

I would have laughed if you told me that eventually, I'd get to be what I'd always wanted to be, but never thought was practical - a writer.

At 21, I thought I knew it all - as most people in their early 20s do. At 31, I'm beginning to realize that I may just be starting to learn what's most important. I am growing into myself. I know what I want in life. I also realize that I may not be able to "have it all," as we were told we could in the 80s. I have struggled more than I imagined, and for longer than I expected. But I have also started to listen to that voice inside that says, to quote Sylvia Plath, "I am, I am, I am."

I think that's called growing up.

There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning. - Louis L'Amour

does breastfeeding suck? (pun intended)

Okay. I'm sorry, this is going to be a rant. It's just bad timing that it's coming off Mother's Day weekend, and I'm sure not everyone will like this. But here goes.

By now, most people have seen the now-infamous TIME magazine cover with the 3-year old breastfeeding, and the cover line of "Are you mom enough?" First, let's just acknowledge that if you've actually read the article, it's more about attachment parenting and Dr.Sears - which really illustrates that the title is merely incendiary and targets women and perpetuates the divides among women and mothers. Attachment parenting is PARENTING - which includes fathers. So why is there only a breastfeeding mother on the cover? And why doesn't it say "Are you parent enough?" Just things to ponder. Women are already judged for every little decision they make about parenting - choosing to be a parent, choosing NOT to have children, choosing to be a single parent, adopting instead of biological kids, doing fertility treatments, working outside the home, putting kids in daycare...it never ends. Mothers are damned if they do and damned if they don't.
People are decrying this cover as so offensive and controversial....um, women's bodies are objectified and sexualized all the time in the media. Hello, Hooters? Maxim magazine? Almost any major TV show?

In my maternal-child health program, breastfeeding was seen as paramount. And yes, I've read the data. It's healthy. Breast is best. We get it. There was a professor who thought it was "every woman's duty" to breastfeed, and once said there is no reason why every woman shouldn't breastfeed. Well, to be honest, I wasn't breastfed. I think I turned out okay. All my limbs are intact, my IQ is up there on the charts, and I have graduate degrees. I think for all intents and purposes, not being breastfed hasn't hurt me.
Choosing to breastfeed OR NOT is a personal, individual decision. Women may not be able to because of mastitis, or work demands, or whatever - we don't know. Mothering is hard enough without being made to feel guilty about your choices on breastfeeding.

For me personally, even though my logical mind and all the knowledge I have tells me to breastfeed for the recommended year by AAP, I doubt I will last more than a month, when the time comes. To be perfectly blunt, I think I would feel like a cow being milked. I have NO PROBLEM with breastfeeding. It doesn't bother me to see it - every mom I've nannied for has breastfed in front of me, and I don't get offended or anything. It's what bodies are made to do. At any rate, I posted something on Facebook, and I pretty much explained my stance - I didn't understand why the cover is so scandalous, and in the comments, I explained that for me personally, I don't agree with the concept of  breastfeeding past the first year, and I don't think breastfeeding will be what I choose. Well. Scandal.  I wasn't saying other women were wrong, I was just saying I don't always agree. I'm not going to tell a woman they're doing anything "wrong" - hey, if it works for them, great. Breastfeed your kid til they're 10, I don't care. I just don't agree. And hey, there are actually a lot of articles that examine the idea that breastfeeding ISN'T all it's been said it is. There's a lot we don't know. I get my data from AAP. Some women get their data from nurse practitioners or mommy bloggers. And that's fine. You get your data, I'll get mine, and we each form our own approaches to parenting. What's the big deal?
One of my friends from college mentioned something to the effect of "maybe when you're a mother you may feel differently." Back the fuck up. First, I find that incredibly condescending, even if it wasn't meant to be that way. I've taken care of children and infants and newborns. I want almost nothing more than to be a mom. I have an MPH in maternal-child health, for Christs sake. I've thought long and hard about breastfeeding; it's not something I came up with on a whim. I plan to go back to work, and for me personally, I just don't think breastfeeding is for me. So yeah, I'm not sure I'll feel differently. In fact, I doubt it. 
So you know what, Sanctimommies? (And I'm not saying this friend is a Sanctimommy - but other Facebook friends certainly have posted things on their pages that indicate that they are). How about we stop judging different kinds of mothering/parenting and realize women are in this together? Parenting is hard stuff - the last thing a woman wants is to feel ostracized on the playground or at Mommy and Me because her infant isn't hanging off her breast. 


Whew. 
On another note, a friend posted an article from salon.com yesterday, entitled "Why I Hate Mother's Day," by Anne Lamott - who is a mother and grandmother. She writes about how the holiday perpetuates the idea that individuals who are parents are more important than those who are not parents.  And honestly, as a 31 year old who is not a parent yet, it feels like there is more than a kernel of truth to that. Kind of like how Carrie on Sex and the City says in one episode that there are no showers for those who are single - but there are wedding showers, baby showers...but no celebrations for other life choices/circumstances. I do think things have gotten better in some ways - Mother's Day should be a day where you celebrate all women who have mothered a child, even if they're not a mother. But we have a long way to go. It was just a really interesting article. 


Anyway. I just had to get all that out. It's been bothering me. d

writing block.

I just made some blueberry coffee, thanks to my Keurig - which has been a LIFE SAVER this semester. I am bringing it with me for my summer in NC, because I start to get separation anxiety when I think about not having the option to make coffee anytime I want. No doubt this will not help my insomnia tonight....I was up until almost 5am last night, and haven't really been able to go to sleep much before 2 or 3 for a good week and a half, two weeks now. I think maybe the stress of the end of the semester, the stress of the upcoming summer and my finances (or lack thereof), finding a job, thesis topics, writing, feeling like I need to Publish Something Amazing Now, etc, is not helping things and sending my bodily clock into confused circles.
Columbia is prepping the campus for graduation, we got an email about how the School of the Arts is locked down for a night next week so the Secret Service can sweep it for Obama's visit for Barnard's commencement, and undergrads and graduate students are showing their families around Morningside Heights and campus, giddy with what their next plans are (and quaking in their flipflops about paying back loans - oh, sorry, that's just me). I have been combing Craigslist for jobs, posted a thing about nannying, and applied for several jobs that ACTUALLY make use of my MPH. Who knew? Although to be honest, all I really want to do is go back to the bookstore. It was a community there, and I knew our customers, and loved interacting with the authors that would come to the store for readings. I loved chatting with the publishing reps, reading ARCs and getting to be around books all day. Sigh.

Last night was my party with my Narrative Medicine class, and a little more than half the class was there, and I had a great time, even if it WAS in Brooklyn. I survived the trip to the outer borough, and actually really liked it. I had a wonderful time at the party, and I have to say, I am really going to miss them. We're trying to put together a writing group in the fall, so hopefully this is not the end.
I haven't written in over a week. This is not good. I've just been so tired and, in my defense, I've been reading a lot. I've sold a lot of books back to the indie bookstore near my house, and gotten more, and then sold THOSE back, and with the credit, gotten more, etc. It's kind of cool that I can do that. The owner of the store is well acquainted with my reading habits, and just laughs when I bring my bag of books in.

I know I should start writing - just getting pages down, just putting my butt to the chair and pen to paper, but it's overwhelming, and this feeling of being overwhelmed paralyzes me and makes me just want to lay on the couch and think, or read. I don't think this bodes well for the summer.

cost/benefit

I turned in my last paper of the year around 1am this morning and I have a meeting about another paper tomorrow at 1pm. And then I am done. Well, not really, since, as my workshop professor said, "Summers are not for relaxing anymore. Summers are for writing." Writers need to read, and my summer will be full of reading and writing, just producing pages and pages, some of which will be good and some of which will suck. As long as I keep writing.
A fellow writer in the program here wrote on his Facebook page that the cost of his first year here is equivalent to that of a Porsche 911. ouch. And depressing.

It is hard not to get depressed here if you're a student. An art student, at that. New York is for the very young and the very rich, as Joan Didion paraphrased in her essay "Goodbye to All That," and she is correct. The city was great when I was 23 and charging exorbitant amounts on my credit cards. But now I am paying it back and the city - and its resulting costs of living - has lost its luster. I knew this coming into it, which is why I was kicking and screaming, moving here. Was it worth it? Begrudgingly, yes. My professors have been amazing, I have found a few that I really admire and want to BE when I grow up, and the guidance here has been great. I enjoy what I am doing - sometimes I honestly think, seriously? I can actually WRITE for a living? But I'd be lying if I said I didn't get nauseous when I think that my rent could be a mortgage on a house in Chapel Hill. Or rent in Southern Village in one of the amazing lofts. Or that I don't lie awake at night, dreading when the Columbia loans come out of deferment. But I made these choices when I decided to come here, and I need to see it as an investment. I have to believe it will pay off. Maybe that's naive, maybe it's foolish, but it's what I have to do.

i can see the end.

One paper and one meeting stand between me and my summer. By 2pm on Thursday, it will all be over, except for the party on Monday my Narrative Medicine class is having, in Brooklyn. (My first trip to Brooklyn! Break out the hipster-wear!). I miss my NM class already - they were a great group of people, but some of us want to put together a writing group, and hopefully this will come to fruition. I mean, where else can I go to class, laugh until my stomach hurts, share my writing, have a friend bring me gluten-free Angry Birds gummies, and have a classmate try to set me up with her nephew's friend? (we're still working on that one). It was a rough semester personally, and that class helped make it so much better. I'm kind of dreading next semester, when I don't have that reprieve of a Narrative Medicine class.

My Narrative Med prof recommended Alison Bechdel's books, and her new one is called "Are You My Mother?" I've never read Bechdel before - she's a graphic novelist, and I usually find graphic novels too distracting, oddly. But lately everyone has been talking about this book - people in the NM class, people in the MFA program - so I figured I'd give it a shot. I was going to see the author at B&N but decided to do laundry instead. Such a glamorous life I lead. But seriously, the kid's book of the same name, was like, my favorite book ever when I was a kid. I remember holding it in my stroller. At least, I think I do. Hopefully it's worth the read.

I sold back a bunch of books today and got some new ones for the summer....very excited about that. "Ordinary Genius," by Kim Addonizio; "Girls in White Dresses," by Jennifer Close; and "Birds of Paradise," by Diana Abu-Jaber. Now if only I could stay awake to read them.....