What it looks like today

Good morning. I have written about five blog entries in my head since this second year of schooling began.
My lack of actual entries attests perfectly to the crazy workload I am juggling.
This sort of ambition is not for the faint of heart.

One of my new school mates is a woman whose family accidentally shut down the White House for a day this past summer (I LIKE this woman!). They had innocently set their knapsack of home-made sandwiches under a bush while touring. Consequently their family was separated and angrily interrogated for several hours, while the bomb squad prepared to detonate egg salad for the safety and democracy of the free world.
God bless America.
(Those scary Canadians. You gotta watch them every step of the way!)
I feel much safer now.

Back to school: I have several new professors this year, and continue to be impressed with the calibre of teachers here at WLS.
I alternate between deep frustration and profound gratitude. I remain good-naturedly different in many of my views and interpretations, at times struggling to be understood, and at other times lapping up the generations of wisdom. There is so much about the practical side of my coming profession that I never imagined. Yesterday we had an eye opening discussion about what is gained and what is lost in "crossing to the other side of the rail." Good stuff!
It would be fasinating to compare notes with those trained by the GCNJ (the group that raised me). Do they talk about these same things?

I've been noticing a great deal of rage lately --- deep, profound rage. I have been avoiding it for YEARS.

But now there is mounting evidence that our ancestors' unresolved issues are passed down to us, and on to our kids, until they are dealt with. This theory helps me push away the fear and shame of simply experiencing the rage, and allows me to step back and study it. It gives me an opportunity to learn about my legacy, and possibly help to ease the load for the next generation. Instead of viewing myself as an evil loser for having these feelings, I now see these feelings as bringing a motherload of information about my parents, my parents' parents, and so on.

What a relief! It also explains the enormous disproportion of the rage to the apparent causes.

So anyway, for anyone coming after me on this path, it is HARD to juggle all the housework and school work. My family (currently all male) is really testing the boundaries of how much they can demand of me and avoid helping with the house work, which is part of my frustration. While saying they support me, they are ramping up their demands. "Change back," they say with their actions, while their lips vow helpfulness.
I get it. It's normal. It's what people do. It's in all the psychology text books.
It sucks.

Not "doing for them," according to some, makes me a bad wife and mother. The program is running in my head. "Bad wife! Do more!" Guilt gnaws at my stomach lining.

So I get pissed off! (This adds to the evidence of my being a bad person.)

It takes a lot of work to stand strong in such social programming and social dynamics. For me, it seems to take rage in order to yell at the guilt, "I'm not going to be a door-mat any more!"

And it isn't good for my son or my daughters to see me being a door mat. I'm a GOOD mother for setting the example of living out my life and my dreams. I have taught them independance for a reason. I will not live through them.

Also, I experience grief and loss on a daily basis for the heritage I have had to leave behind.

HOWEVER. . . .
I was dying. Now I am alive again.
No matter what "they" say, I had no choice but to go forward. Yes, I'm mad as hell that "they" didn't want me. My death wasn't worth growing or changing for. The profound repeated message that I wasn't wanted unless I fit their mold came through loud and clear. When I refused, I was a nuisance that they were better rid of.

How's that for a message of love and respect and human worth?

No wonder I'm so stinking angry!

Is your protasis in your apodosis?

Only when it's hortatory.

That pretty much says it all.

Is it a whole sipple, or just a part-of-a-sipple?

Lego moi ego!

When in doubt, pretend it's second aorist.

How do you translate the subjunctive, anyway?
Very carefully....

If it has a thigh, it's one of those sexy infinitives.

Furthermore, if it has "eh" or "moose" in it, we are looking at a Canadian kind of greek word.
Hence, "po-leh-moose" would be "Moose wars..."

That also makes canadians imperfect, which we knew, but also AORIST!

Hah hah!

Agh! GREEK!!!