The great thing about teaching on Tuesdays and Thursdays is that it takes the pressure off of Sunday. There was work I probably could and should have done today, but nothing that had to be done that couldn't be figured out tomorrow or really at any time between now and Thursday. I can't always do this, but I'm glad I could today.
Prospect Park was lovely. Came in at Grand Army Plaza as per usual, walked all the way down past Wollman Rink to the southernmost end of the lake. The sky was beautiful. What I like about Prospect Park--and what puts it over Central Park for me--is that there are places where you really can feel like you're somewhere else other than New York. And there's something incredibly soothing for me in watching the last light of the sunset play on watersurfaces. Wandered back up along the eastern edge of the park, past the Lefferts House and the Zoo. It was almost dark when I got back to Grand Army Plaza and I could look in all the apartments without feeling as alienated as I sometimes do. I'm more or less always in one of two frames of mind when I leave Prospect Park: either I'm asking myself why I don't go there more often, or I'm feeling crushed and alone because of all the people there with other people. Today it was the former, and I'm glad of it.
On my way home I stopped at one of the wine shops on Vanderbilt because I just didn't think it was right to drink white wine with the lamb I was planning to make. I think this was a good move.
And, finally, because I haven't dinner blogged in so long: tonight I roasted a tiny leg of lamb I got from one of the Greenmarket stands--it's pretty awesome that they sell them in less than 1/2 pound cuts, and even with that I still have enough for a second meal. I roasted it with a red wine / olive oil / worcheshire sauce with onions, garlic, cumin, and dried cranberries and left it pretty rare. Yummy. Complimented it with a variation on my usual sauteed Brussels sprouts that included apples, some smashed blue potatoes (not my favorite way to prepare them, I decided, but tasty), and half an acorn squash. I'm going to have to get a bigger and sharper knife if I'm going to continue to make squash a part of my life.
And now I think maybe this can be an early night, that maybe I'll be ready to get back to work for real in the morning.
Did I mention that I handed in my prospectus last Wednesday? I handed in my prospectus last Wednesday.
Showing posts with label wandering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wandering. Show all posts
11.09.2008
10.31.2008
Most of the time...
I'm not wretched in the way that I was on Sunday or most of Monday. I thought I should say that here because there are a few of you out there reading and caring and commiserating, and that's actually meaningful for me. So, thank you.
In fact, it's been something of a quiet week. Not a huge amount of productivity, but I'm between projects anyway. So I've poured myself into interacting humanely with my students and taken some time to focus on myself, though in what's hopefully a less obsessive way. Went back to the midday zazen on Wednesday, which was rejuvenating. And I feel almost calm, which is strange partly because I know that a lot of the crappiness of my situation is directly traceable to my having acted like an idiot on a couple of levels. And I wonder--is this really me, being able to recognize my own issues but not doing the whole self-recrimination thing? It feels weird.
But I'm going to try to practice with that for now and try to get a few hours sleep before it's time to go. Have decided that if I'm not checking a bag, I probably don't need to get to the airport two full hours before the flight, so I can leave more or less at the same time I would to teach. And being able to trust that is even something.
I'm hoping the weather will be nice and that the fall colors will be out. I do actually want to see the extended family. I have my travel zafu. And The Poet will be there to pick me up when I get home. So I guess I start here.
In fact, it's been something of a quiet week. Not a huge amount of productivity, but I'm between projects anyway. So I've poured myself into interacting humanely with my students and taken some time to focus on myself, though in what's hopefully a less obsessive way. Went back to the midday zazen on Wednesday, which was rejuvenating. And I feel almost calm, which is strange partly because I know that a lot of the crappiness of my situation is directly traceable to my having acted like an idiot on a couple of levels. And I wonder--is this really me, being able to recognize my own issues but not doing the whole self-recrimination thing? It feels weird.
But I'm going to try to practice with that for now and try to get a few hours sleep before it's time to go. Have decided that if I'm not checking a bag, I probably don't need to get to the airport two full hours before the flight, so I can leave more or less at the same time I would to teach. And being able to trust that is even something.
I'm hoping the weather will be nice and that the fall colors will be out. I do actually want to see the extended family. I have my travel zafu. And The Poet will be there to pick me up when I get home. So I guess I start here.
7.28.2008
Things that are being, have been, or will be revised
The Victorian Project
Sent the draft of the Victorian project to VIE yesterday afternoon--yes, a week after our original deadline. I haven't heard back from him, but I'm crossing my fingers that it will be okay since a) it wasn't a "real" deadline, just a suggestion to allow for another substantial revision before the real deadline and there's still time for that if necessary, b) he was on vacation until Friday, and c) I'm not sure that there was anything else I could have done to have made it go much faster. It's a 10,000-word piece right now, and between 7,500 and 8,000 of those words did not exist prior to this draft. And I think that it's probably one of the better things I've written, ever.
The Romantic Project
...is due at the end of the week. I'm still not as confident in this as in the Victorian project, but I'm feeling okay about it. Doing a read-through today, comparing notes, figuring out what to focus on. I want to tweak a few things, amplify some points, maybe ditch a couple of others as being more trouble than they're worth, but I'm actually starting to believe that Committee Member was right when she said that it was close, or at least fine to go out to the reviewers. Hopefully, this means that I'll be able to have a relatively normal sleep schedule this week, since last week really got out of control. As I am no longer 20 years old, I also no longer get the same kick out of seeing the sun come up at 4:45 on a Wednesday morning.
My feelings about the way The Professor read the Romantic Project
I made myself sit down after lunch today and actually read through The Professor's comments on the Romantic Project. It's possible that with the distance of a few weeks, and 10,000 decent words on my Victorian poet behind me, I was better able to handle it. Okay, so it wasn't a total hatchet job. Some of the comments were actually helpful, and a lot of what I'd been unhappy about was just him being him. And I get that. And I can take it. But it wasn't completely what I'd needed from him, and I'm still no longer sure that I should be writing everything to meet his approval. I'm not quite as angry as I was. We haven't communicated since he sent me the comments and I wrote a (somewhat passive-aggressively grateful) acknowledgment that I'd gotten them. He called me last week, but I didn't pick up the phone and since he didn't leave a message and I didn't call back. It's possible, of course, that he read my post here about that. But none of this is really at the top of my list of things I'm coping with this week.
Mornings
I've sat every morning (or whenever I get up, which has mostly been before noon, but sometimes just barely), except for Friday when I was with The Poet in DC. The second week has been harder than the first; I'm struggling a bit with the posture, trying to figure out how to make it work for me without slouching, and I'm finding that it takes me almost the whole time just to really get in the right position, and then my timer goes off. I do attribute a couple of insights about the Victorian Project to the sitting, though, and I think overall it's a good thing--helping me to, slowly, shift my understanding of what it means to do nothing. And maybe The Poet can help me work on some of this later in the week. In a more general sense, though, this is giving me the impetus to change the way I deal with mornings in general--instead of getting up and going right to the computer, which slows me down and stresses me out, I get up, have some coffee, sit, and get in the shower. Ideally, anyway. It's not getting me out of the house much faster yet, but I do feel a bit better.
Exercise plans
...have pretty much fallen off the table due to this latest round of intensive writing. I need to get them back in gear, since I only have the membership at Erstwhile Teaching College until the end of August and won't be able to renew it until later in September. I suddenly noticed yesterday that I've gained a bit of weight as of late. Probably time to drink a little bit less beer, make sure to eat all the beets I keep buying from the Greenmarket.
How I feel about Amtrak
The first thought I had upon arriving at Penn Station on Thursday morning, sweating and on about four hours' sleep was...clusterfuck. However, this was before I got on the train (not even an Acela) and discovered the joy that was the Quiet Car. This made for a lovely, lovely trip, except for the part between Philly and Baltimore, when it filled up with teenagers who I'm sure thought they were being quiet. The Poet and I took the Acela back up together and that was also fun, mostly because we had a lot of wine.
24 hours in DC
Had I not gone to the the college I actually attended, I would have gone to Georgetown's School of Foreign Service instead. That's what everyone who knew me at the time thought I was going to do. Coming back to DC for the first time in seven or eight years got me thinking about roads not taken, and about what I would be doing if I had moved to Washington instead of New York. And then, about a half hour after I got to the hotel, I started laughing, realizing that I'd probably be doing pretty much the same thing--having sex with a married politician in a hotel room on a Thursday afternoon. The Poet also thought this was hilarious, though I realize this is going to be one of those stories, like the "How I met K after German class" one, that not everyone finds funny.
In general, 24 hours in DC did for me what five days in Wisconsin didn't: namely, make me appreciate living in New York and want to go home. The restaurant where we had dinner was kind of a joke, and I got carded three times at two of the bars we went to--The Poet found that pretty funny. Our hotel bar was awesome, but closed at like 10. But, as 24 hour periods go, it was really nice, surprisingly relaxing--and it gave me a chance to spend time with The Poet in a way that I don't usually get to because of all the...well, all the extenuating circumstances. We had a really good talk on the train ride home, about all kinds of things. I also took a picture of us with my laptop camera. Now I just need to get another one where it doesn't look like I have roughly eight chins. Because I'm pretty sure I don't, at least not yet.
My idea for this blog post
This was a much more boring post than I was planning it to be, though I'm not sure what I expected, considering that I've spent most of the last week either writing or watching Grey's Anatomy. (I don't care what people say about it being realistic or not, but I find the Derek-Meredith dynamic completely realistic and very similar to K and me--though I've never met his wife and he was the one cheating.) Which means it's probably time to get back to work.
Sent the draft of the Victorian project to VIE yesterday afternoon--yes, a week after our original deadline. I haven't heard back from him, but I'm crossing my fingers that it will be okay since a) it wasn't a "real" deadline, just a suggestion to allow for another substantial revision before the real deadline and there's still time for that if necessary, b) he was on vacation until Friday, and c) I'm not sure that there was anything else I could have done to have made it go much faster. It's a 10,000-word piece right now, and between 7,500 and 8,000 of those words did not exist prior to this draft. And I think that it's probably one of the better things I've written, ever.
The Romantic Project
...is due at the end of the week. I'm still not as confident in this as in the Victorian project, but I'm feeling okay about it. Doing a read-through today, comparing notes, figuring out what to focus on. I want to tweak a few things, amplify some points, maybe ditch a couple of others as being more trouble than they're worth, but I'm actually starting to believe that Committee Member was right when she said that it was close, or at least fine to go out to the reviewers. Hopefully, this means that I'll be able to have a relatively normal sleep schedule this week, since last week really got out of control. As I am no longer 20 years old, I also no longer get the same kick out of seeing the sun come up at 4:45 on a Wednesday morning.
My feelings about the way The Professor read the Romantic Project
I made myself sit down after lunch today and actually read through The Professor's comments on the Romantic Project. It's possible that with the distance of a few weeks, and 10,000 decent words on my Victorian poet behind me, I was better able to handle it. Okay, so it wasn't a total hatchet job. Some of the comments were actually helpful, and a lot of what I'd been unhappy about was just him being him. And I get that. And I can take it. But it wasn't completely what I'd needed from him, and I'm still no longer sure that I should be writing everything to meet his approval. I'm not quite as angry as I was. We haven't communicated since he sent me the comments and I wrote a (somewhat passive-aggressively grateful) acknowledgment that I'd gotten them. He called me last week, but I didn't pick up the phone and since he didn't leave a message and I didn't call back. It's possible, of course, that he read my post here about that. But none of this is really at the top of my list of things I'm coping with this week.
Mornings
I've sat every morning (or whenever I get up, which has mostly been before noon, but sometimes just barely), except for Friday when I was with The Poet in DC. The second week has been harder than the first; I'm struggling a bit with the posture, trying to figure out how to make it work for me without slouching, and I'm finding that it takes me almost the whole time just to really get in the right position, and then my timer goes off. I do attribute a couple of insights about the Victorian Project to the sitting, though, and I think overall it's a good thing--helping me to, slowly, shift my understanding of what it means to do nothing. And maybe The Poet can help me work on some of this later in the week. In a more general sense, though, this is giving me the impetus to change the way I deal with mornings in general--instead of getting up and going right to the computer, which slows me down and stresses me out, I get up, have some coffee, sit, and get in the shower. Ideally, anyway. It's not getting me out of the house much faster yet, but I do feel a bit better.
Exercise plans
...have pretty much fallen off the table due to this latest round of intensive writing. I need to get them back in gear, since I only have the membership at Erstwhile Teaching College until the end of August and won't be able to renew it until later in September. I suddenly noticed yesterday that I've gained a bit of weight as of late. Probably time to drink a little bit less beer, make sure to eat all the beets I keep buying from the Greenmarket.
How I feel about Amtrak
The first thought I had upon arriving at Penn Station on Thursday morning, sweating and on about four hours' sleep was...clusterfuck. However, this was before I got on the train (not even an Acela) and discovered the joy that was the Quiet Car. This made for a lovely, lovely trip, except for the part between Philly and Baltimore, when it filled up with teenagers who I'm sure thought they were being quiet. The Poet and I took the Acela back up together and that was also fun, mostly because we had a lot of wine.
24 hours in DC
Had I not gone to the the college I actually attended, I would have gone to Georgetown's School of Foreign Service instead. That's what everyone who knew me at the time thought I was going to do. Coming back to DC for the first time in seven or eight years got me thinking about roads not taken, and about what I would be doing if I had moved to Washington instead of New York. And then, about a half hour after I got to the hotel, I started laughing, realizing that I'd probably be doing pretty much the same thing--having sex with a married politician in a hotel room on a Thursday afternoon. The Poet also thought this was hilarious, though I realize this is going to be one of those stories, like the "How I met K after German class" one, that not everyone finds funny.
In general, 24 hours in DC did for me what five days in Wisconsin didn't: namely, make me appreciate living in New York and want to go home. The restaurant where we had dinner was kind of a joke, and I got carded three times at two of the bars we went to--The Poet found that pretty funny. Our hotel bar was awesome, but closed at like 10. But, as 24 hour periods go, it was really nice, surprisingly relaxing--and it gave me a chance to spend time with The Poet in a way that I don't usually get to because of all the...well, all the extenuating circumstances. We had a really good talk on the train ride home, about all kinds of things. I also took a picture of us with my laptop camera. Now I just need to get another one where it doesn't look like I have roughly eight chins. Because I'm pretty sure I don't, at least not yet.
My idea for this blog post
This was a much more boring post than I was planning it to be, though I'm not sure what I expected, considering that I've spent most of the last week either writing or watching Grey's Anatomy. (I don't care what people say about it being realistic or not, but I find the Derek-Meredith dynamic completely realistic and very similar to K and me--though I've never met his wife and he was the one cheating.) Which means it's probably time to get back to work.
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