January 21
Memories of Marcia, Day 2 in Mexico
1965
Today in study hall (F) I went up to get a drink of water. When I got back, Marcia passed me a note that says, "When you bent over, your dress went up in the back and Mr. B was looking at your legs. Tra-la, tra-la." She later said he was half-smiling, then when he saw her looking at him, he blushed. I wonder - oh, not a chance. He's 21 or 22 - 6 or 7 years older than me. But I can dream - which I will.
Comment 2006
Mr. B, like Mr. V, was a student teacher from the teacher's college in Danbury. Unlike Mr.V, he was very, very cute. Short blonde hair and horn rimmed glasses. It dawns on me that at fifteen I was capable of having crushes on just about anyone.
Comment 2023
Marcia was my very best friend in high school, and my most supportive wingperson. Whenever I needed a nudge (or a shove), Marcia was there. Without Marcia, I would never have sung in the talent show (which I finally did, junior year) or applied to study abroad or skinny-dipped in an icy creek behind her house. I probably would have done better in Physics if we hadn’t shared a bench, but so what? Just five days older than me, she was years ahead of me socially. Her friends became my friends. It was also Marcia who alerted to me wherever a boy showed any interest in me, because I was completely oblivious to the signals. She knew about my crush on V, and could keep a secret. It occurs to me now that she also never encouraged me in that direction. Maybe she knew him better than I did?
I last saw her at our 50th reunion. We made plans to meet again, but car trouble intervened and we had to make do with a phone call. We promised to try again the next summer, but she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in November and died a month later. Sorry to end on a sad note, but the memory is still fresh enough that remembering Marcia means remembering that unkept promise, along with all the good times.
1993
First day of classes, first day of a new President. Thank God! It is strange to think of a President who is my brother’s age. My generation has finally -- inevitably - - come of age. What an odd feeling. What does my mother think, with a President young enough to be her son?
My classes are promising, though still scary. Someday this will be old hat.
The diversity course is taking shape.
- sources of diversity ( where did people come here, and when?
- responses to diversity ( “melting pot”, assimilation, folk revivals, racism)
- How diversity influenced American culture ( music, humor, foodways, holidays and celebrations)
- The challenge of ever-changing diversity
Comment 2025
Wow, could I get in trouble with that course today!
1997
Well, I finally skipped a day of journaling, but I forgive myself. After all, yesterday I woke up at 6 to get Kiddo 2 ready, then to get myself ready to go downtown with the Girl Scouts to help out with the Inaugural Parade. It was cold and boring for a while, but turned out to be lots of fun. A good thing to do.
Today I want to take the day off. I did a long workout and now it’s thinking time. My sinuses are annoying me; maybe I need some chicken soup. Later this afternoon I have a tenure meeting for a colleague, and I expect to be her only positive vote. That sucks.
I have a problem with Breathnach’s assertion that there is a caring universe or spirit out there. Frankly, the Holocaust and every similar perversion argue against such a benevolent force. The Force, if it exists, is in us, to be harnessed, resisted, or ignored. It is not “out there”. That’s my current belief.
2003
Classes start a week from today, and I m still wrapped in winter’s cocoon. I know that the return of students will bring me back to the bustle of campus life, but hope I can hang on to my intellectual and domestic life.
The problem I am currently untangling is this: how do you design a holodeck? I know that eventually someone will work out the technology, write the code, and engineer the system that will make realistic virtual experiences possible. But what about the script? What about the underlying facts, the narratives? Who will be the storytellers?
2019 (Mexico)
A long day, not yet over. I had my first Spanish class today. Two hours of much-needed grammar review and some vocabulary and useful idioms. The teacher, Jessica, is very nice and helpful. One of the other students is from Silver Spring, MD. There is a new guest here at the Air B and B. A very loud guy who never stops talking. He is holding court downstairs right now, very annoying.
After class, I met L and P at the Museo de Textil, saw a little there and then took a taxi to a restaurant for lunch. Then a taxi back to the Centro to a different museum which turned out to be closed. Instead, we had ice cream and toured a church. Then P started leading us to a market and L was talking and I was listening. We hit Avenida Hidalgo and I asked which direction to the Textile Museum. P pointed it out, and after a brief discussion, I headed there alone. I was feeling hot and stressed and needing to be alone for a bit. Not their fault. It’s mine, for tagging along after lunch, when what I needed was time alone to process the day so far. I had imagined doing some writing but to do that, I need space.
Comment 2024
I signed up for a week of Spanish class so P and L could go hiking and such without the fifth wheel. The school was lovely and an interesting walk from our guest house.
