Dear "Them," We hate you. Love, "Us"

Bear with me... it's early and I'm already thinking about stuff.

I went to McDonalds on the way to work (fruit and walnut salad, mmmmm. Oh, and also an egg McMuffin - I am weak). The McDonalds near the radio station is staffed primarily by young people of Middle Eastern origin. The only reason that is relevant is because I hopped on the Train of Thought and it took me somewhere interesting.

BUT... before I get into that I need to make a few things very clear...
I know that not all people from the Middle East are Muslim.
I know that 9/11 was not an event sanctioned by the Muslim religion.
I know that the terrorists can not be linked to any specific country or even region of the world (the most recent guy convicted is from Australia).
I know that the word "hate" is insufficient and wrong. It is impossible to have one word to describe how I feel about canned spinach and child molesters.
I know that I should not write about politics, religion, or other topics of controversy. Especially not at 7am.

Here goes...

I ordered my egg McMuffin and while I was paying for it I wondered if the guy selling it to me was Muslim and how he felt about serving "unclean" meat for a living. I also wondered about the guy who had to cook it. Then I thought that if he was Muslim and if he was a crazy, "up with terrorists" kind of Muslim he probably thought, "unclean meat for unclean people, ha ha you're all going to hell you fat Americans." It did occur to me that if serving pork would upset him that much he'd probably try to get a job at Taco Bell or something instead. Then as he handed my by bag and smiled and told me to have a nice day and I smiled back and said, "You too, thanks!" I thought, wow, he was so much more polite than the other McDonalds employees usually are and I wondered if he hated his job as much as they all clearly do or if he really felt a sense of pride about his clean uniform and the repetitive structure of the fast-food work day. The other McDonalds employees I have dealt with radiate hatred and resentment - especially if you are so obnoxious as to ask for a plastic fork or an extra packet of sweet and sour sauce.

Which made me think about group hatred and "us" and "them."

We are told that "they" hate us. We are also told that if we are good Amrrr-kans "we" will also hate "them."

Do I hate Iraq? Do I hate Muslim extremists? Do I hate the terrorists?

I do not, in fact, have a blanket sort of hate that settles over parts of the world. Certainly not in a geographic way. If we have learned anything from history and literature haven't we learned that in general we all want the same thing and we are all frightened by the same things? Isn't it fair to assume that somewhere in Iraq or Afghanistan there is a 31-year-old overweight mom who wakes up earlier than she wants to, especially on the weekends? Isn't it fair to think that all she wants is for her kids to be safe? All she wants is to be able to take care of her daily needs and the needs of her family. Without worrying about suicide bombers or stupid laws. That's pretty much what I want. Do I hate her? Does she hate me? Nope. Not unless her kid is a shit to my kid, and then we're ON.

What about "the terrorists"? Do I hate them? Well, which ones - the ones on "our" side or "theirs"? And doesn't my asking that question automatically make me suspect?
And what about the extremists? Well, I have to say that Christian extremists in THIS country scare me a whole lot more than any other religious extremist in any other country. The ones who blow up abortion clinics and think that women should "obey" their husbands regardless of whether their husbands have any sense at all. The ones who are against birth control in any form. The ones who home school - NOT because their kids can get a better education at home, not because they are good teachers, not because they want to make sure their kids learn in a positive and loving environment, but because they want to make sure their kids are only exposed to their thoughts and beliefs. They just want to make sure their kids minds are as narrow and fixed as possible. Those people scare me.

To be clear: Homeschooling in general? Fine and dandy. Is it for me and my kid? Nope. We would kill each other in a week. Is it a good idea for other people? Absolutely. When it is done "right" - as opposed to my daughter's cousin who is 8 and can't spell or read because his mom "can't get him to study." Uh-huh. Seriously.

I think that I hatred for and fear of M.C. Rove and Dick Cheney (the great white hunter) than I do for anyone in any other country.

Unless their kid is a shit to my kid... then it is so on.

Hi.

Sorry about the self-pity fest yesterday... there has apparently not been enough chocolate in my diet recently. I am taking care of that right now with some fun-sized Snickers.
Mmmmmmm. Snickers.
They came from my mother in law's house so they're probably laced with arsenic. If I don't post for awhile send help.

Tuesday is for knitting and knit I did! I finished the first purple sock - pictures soon - and while I had planned to give it to Queen Nancy it matched the dress I was wearing yesterday so well that I was tempted to keep it! I will just order more yarn in a few weeks and make my own pair. I have been working on Andie's Crusoe socks, too and am almost finished with the second one. She's been waiting since the last pledge drive. That would be last October. Seriously.
I made dinner last night, and the theme was simple but good. Kerri brought some yummy appetizers (Melba toast with cream cheese and thinly sliced cucumbers. So simple, yet SO good). We also had bread and wine and it was lovely. Here's my recipe from last night:

1 package orzo
32 oz. carton of broth (I used veggie broth)
16 oz. can diced tomatoes
1/2 cup (or so) shredded Parmesan cheese

Dump the orzo and broth in a 9x13 dish, cover with foil and bake for 30 minutes at 400 degrees. Remove foil, mix in tomatoes and cheese and put back in oven 20 minutes, or until cheese is melted.

Simple and good. (And inexpensive, and there were not any leftovers).

Tuesday nights are good for me. It's nice to just relax and not do anything but knit and eat and talk and drink wine. This is why I have been teaching my friends to knit. And Andie is establishing a stash!! She ordered some Knitpicks and was talking about yarn storage options. I'm so proud! And she's ready to sew the toe of her very first sock!!!
(Kerri, your sock days are coming. You can run but you can't hide).

Wednesday is apparently for irony.

This morning I wore one of my new spring shirts. It's just a t-shirt but it's my favorite green - a sort of pastel lime. After my first class we went to Chipotle and I was SURE I was going to drip sauce or beans or guacamole on "the shelf," you know... But I didn't! I didn't even spill diet Coke on myself. Amazing, right?
The later I pulled up in front of the radio station and as I got out of my car I stepped on a package of Taco Bell sauce that was on the floor of the car and it squirted all over my arm and my shirt.
Fuck.
I don't even LIKE Taco Bell sauce. The only reason I would ever HAVE Taco Bell sauce in my car is for the husband. Grrrrrrr.
I had to do my automation stuff smelling like Taco Bell sauce.

So I came home and sprayed it down with Spray-n-Wash (love that stuff) and put on my jammies.

But I can still smell the sauce. I need more chocolate.

Somehow it's Tuesday

I spent yesterday morning at Hospice, yesterday afternoon at a funeral and last night dealing with an emotionally unstable husband.
I love him but I am getting really tired of dealing with this. Better/worse/rich/poor/death/part. I know. I'm not leaving, I'm just trying to figure out what to do at this point. He is in this bad place that I can't reach and he is the only person who can make any changes. I feel powerless and frustrated and sad and alone.
I feel like I can't count on him to do anything.
We fought this morning and I slammed the door and left for work... I got three blocks from the house and realized he hadn't taken the trash bin to the street. I turned around and went back home because I knew he wasn't going to and then the bin would be full for another week. It is the little stuff like that - but it's also the big stuff. It's the job situation. It's the money situation. I'm trying to figure out what to do next month. We have the house payment for April, but what about May? What if he's still not working in May?
After our fight this morning (and the fact that he got very little sleep last night and was still drunk this morning) he's not going to be putting in any applications or checking up on the ones he's already submitted. He's probably going to sit in his recliner and feel sorry for himself and drink some more and play his video games.
I just want my husband back.
I just want to not feel so much resentment and frustration.
I just want it to not be so difficult.

But it's Tuesday. And at my house, Tuesdays are for knitting. Tuesdays are for simple, good food and great conversation and not worrying about anything else.

Stormy Saturday

Because I don't have enough unfinished projects on the needles right now...

This sweater is on the back cover of this month's Creative Knits. It's from Plymouth Yarns. I went to the Plymouth website looking to buy it and saw another sweater that I love:





I have never knit a sweater and the only thing I ever made with cables was the Socks That Rock... ok, ONE sock that rocks. I will cast on for the second one. (I will!)
Soon.


I am tired. I had a dream last night that I was dying. I was in bed and wasting away and I just kept thinking that any second I would die and then my family could move on with their grief. In the dream I kept waking up feeling stronger and even I was getting tired of the whole emotional roller coaster of it. The thing that was most startling to me when I woke up is that I wasn't afraid to die. In the dream I was glad there wasn't any pain and all I really felt was tired, tired, tired... which is sort of a strange thing to feel in a dream, right? I was sad for my family, but mostly I was just impatient to get it over with so that they could just get on with it. Hi, Dr. Freud? I think that these dreams might indicate some kind of response to the recent deaths in my life, and maybe something about Hospice. I'm not sure though, what do you think? No, there were no cigars or sausages in any of my recent dreams. Jeez.

I went to a really funny musical (about menopause) last night with the Hospice crowd. There was an extra ticket so I called my mom and she met me there. We had a really good time - though I am not yet in my mid 30's and have some of the early symptoms of menopause and it's sort of freaking me out. Of course, I am a teeny bit of a hypochondriac. You could convince me that I have testicular cancer if you showed me the right article/movie on Lifetime/Oprah Winfrey Show. Seriously.

Thunderstorms today... Bean is with my mom and I might just go home after work and stay in bed for the rest of the day. I'm not depressed this time, I just want to make the most of the rest of spring break. What better way than to cozy up with a book and a knitting project and a movie and just veg?? I'm meeting a friend for lunch and maybe a little look around the LYS... I should NOT buy anything - for financial reasons as well as project backlog reasons. But we'll see.

No kids tonight!!

The girls had a good time. They were up until 4? 5? I woke them up around noon and we went to IHOP and then bowling. By the time the last girl was picked up (just before 6 pm) I was ready to drop. I slept hard until about 8 and then I took Bean to my mom's house where she will spend 3 fun-filled days reading and sleeping in and not cleaning her room. Which looks like a bomb went off. A big, glitter and bead-filled bomb.
Now I'm watching all of my Thursday night DVR shows in bed with my knitting and my laptop... but it is still so fricking humid that all I want to do is lie here naked (don't picture it) with about seven fans on me at the same time. And a big glass of iced tea. And maybe some ice cream.
If you have Showtime you must watch This American Life. If you don't have Showtime you must get it and then watch This American Life. I love Ira Glass. I've been an Ira fan for six years now and the transformation from radio to television is successful.
If you don't have Showtime and you don't get it you must at LEAST listen to the show - either through your local public radio station or online. Seriously.
And I met him in Austin at a conference. Behind my desk at the radio station is a picture of me with Ira. The husband would not let me put it in a heart-shaped frame that we got as a wedding present. The husband just does not understand.
Everything Ira does is fine with me.
Sammie is requesting that I stop typing and curl up with her now... must run!

No lions sleeping tonight...

Bean is having a slumber party tonight... there will be no sleeping.

So far they have made necklaces and giggled.
They ate spaghetti and meatballs and giggled.
They played pinball with the husband and giggled.
Now they're watching The Little Mermaid and eating peanut butter popcorn.
And they're giggling.

Tomorrow we're going bowling... it's good for Bean to have friends over and it feels really good to hear her having such a good time with her friends.

Andie came by (with Starbucks, god love her) to knit for awhile. Her daughter is 21 now and in college and she really misses the giggly phase.
But not enough to stay more than about 45 minutes...

I have three (or four) socks on the needles right now... I finished my Sock that Rocks and need to cast on for the second one... and I have a basic sock and tennis socks for Bean and Andie's final pledge drive sock.
Despite the large number of socks in the works, I have cast on for a bramble stitch shawl for my grandmother. I don't even know why. It's not cool outside anymore, but I saw the pattern in The Knitter's Bible Knitted Accessories and I had some Yarn Bee Soft Delight that I found on sale for a dollar at Hobby Lobby and suddenly I was digging size 13 needles out of my knitting box and now there is pink and purple and blue fuzz all over me and the couch and now the bed. Sigh.

I actually have a few days off. Weird, eh? Unless something really terrible happens I don't have to be back in the station until Saturday morning. Crazy.

Of course, the slumber party is on until about 6 tomorrow night and then Friday Bean and I are going to a museum in town for the afternoon and then I have tickets for a musical Friday night. So it's not like I'm going to be sleeping in and not showering. That was last week. But I am really loving spring break. Really loving it. No homework, (except for those extra credit assignments... must get moving on those) no work work, my house is not clean necessarily but it has been cleaned recently and the only room that needs serious attention is the kitchen. So this week is clearly better than last week.


But JEEZ-O it's hot in here. Seriously. It's been humid all day and outside it's maybe 55 degrees but inside it's hot and humid. We opened the window in Bean's room, but our bedroom windows are painted shut on one side and covered by the headboard on the other. Fuck.
So I have the box fan in the hallway pulling fresh air form Bean's room and the ceiling fans are going... It's cooling down now.

I promised the girls a midnight trip to Krispy Kreme... they asked if they could have coffee with their donuts. Um, no.

Sunday Random

I don't understand why people seem to be disappointed when the answer to the question, "Oooh, who are you knitting that for?" is "Me." Especially people I don't know - or at least don't know well. It's not like I would spending $20 on yarn and two weeks of knitting for them, so they can move that thought right along! And why shouldn't I knit something for myself?!? Why is it assumed that knitters are always making gifts for other people? When knitters ask that question it's less offensive - I know you know what really goes in to a simple pair of socks or even a scarf! I know that when a knitter asks who it's for and I say, "me," they'll approve. Good for me for doing something for myself.

****************************************************************

I keep having these weird dreams that I am making out with this odd Franken-Ex-Boyfriend. He is not someone I have ever dated, and he is everyone I have ever dated. All of their good and comforting qualities all rolled up into this amazing guy. It's freaking me out. Also, in the dream I am younger and thinner. And I have a better car.

*****************************************************************

My sister has been on my mind a lot lately... probably because the first time I had a sort of emotional breakdown she pulled me through it in that gentle, persistent way that makes her a good mom and a good nurse. Every time I feel that emotional deflation start I think about that summer - hours and hours of playing cards and watching bad movies. I didn't have to talk about what was wrong, I just had to be present.
I'm reading a book for the next book club called The Echo Maker by Richard Powers, and it's about sibling relationships and healing and dealing with the past. There is a line that stopped me cold, "You weren't someone's friend just by decree, or she'd be surrounded by support. Sister was no different, except technically. If he never again recognized her as his flesh and blood, what difference would all her objections make?"
I think that's what scares me so much about all human relationships. Our identities are so wrapped up with our relationships - I'm Bean's mother, I'm Jan's daughter, I'm Andie's friend - these are all ways in which I have identified myself to someone in the past ten days. At some point anyone could suddenly decide that I was no longer a friend, no longer a sister, no longer a mother. Irrelevance of blood and history is frightening. If she decides to never let this go am I really still her sister? Is she really still mine?

***********************************************************************

Kerri and I have been kicking around this dream of opening a yarn store. We have some good ideas. We have some excitement. We have no money.
But it makes me wish we could do it. All of this talk and dreaming makes me want to take a risk and start something new.
Because I need something else stressful in my life, right?
I should have finished my business degree... I should have focused on sales and marketing.
And I know there is more to opening a yarn store than sitting around and knitting all day, but certainly there is a lot of sitting around knitting if you open a store, right?

*************************************************************************

I'm going to try to finish sock 1 of my Monsoon Socks that Rock today. I am not going to do all of the leg repeats - I prefer a shorter sock and I'm afraid I'll run out of yarn. I really do love this sock - it represents me trying new things - toe-up, a different kind of heel and successful cables. I'm going to request clogs or Birkenstocks for my birthday so that I can show off all of my new socks. The ones I will be knitting for myself.

***************************************************************************

I love being a social work student. As frustrated and stressed out as I have been, I really do love it. Here are the extra credit assignments I have for spring break:
For 10 points in research - go and sit somewhere public (Starbucks) for two hours and make secret observations about something going on there. The we have to formulate a hypothesis based on the observations.
For 10 points in direct practice - do something that is just for you that will help relieve stress. Document this action in any way. I'm going to take pictures - Nap Lover getting a manicure, Nap Lover sleeping in (that one will be tricky), Nap Lover eating brunch, Nap Lover knitting.
Social work rocks.

***************************************************************************

The husband and I are going to a musical tonight - free tickets thanks to the station. I will miss the free stuff when I'm not working here anymore. I'll have to volunteer just so I can stay in the free stuff loop. Oh, and to see my friends...

****************************************************************************

A friend of mine just found out that her husband is going to Iraq in September. Also, they were in the process of trying to adopt. Now he will be in danger and the adoption is on hold. By the time he comes back they will have to start the process over again. There are not words I can give her. There is not comfort enough to wrap around that kind of scared and empty and alone and disappointed. I feel the need to stand guard over her, not to impose but to be ready if she needs me or anyone or anything. Futile, really. All she needs is this husband safe, this promised child present. All of my good intentions are meaningless.

****************************************************************************

Ok, end on a good note... there are cardinals in our back yard. A bright red male that hops and frets and a cleverly variegated female who blends in well under the shrubbery, searching for worms and bugs for lunch. She is plump and pampered and he is thin and bright - always watching for the neighborhood cats. I am not sure where their nest is, but I imagine that we will have babies this spring.