November 18

Here comes another contraction. Ho hum.

1964

Well, I finally did it! Bought myself a diary, that is. I had one in sixth grade, but Mom threw it away. There was a lot in that one. When Dad left us, when we moved to Connecticut, and lots about my friends in Westwood. Hats off to the past, coats off to the future!

My first marks this year were: History 95, Biology 87, English 83, Spanish 94, Geometry 88, and Gym A. I wonder if the Beatles like smart girls? I hope so, because there’s one mark in my favor. I already have one against me. George likes short blond girls. 

I’m Julius Caesar tomorrow in English. Terese is, too. Marcia is Brutus.

1986

Another day passes and still no baby. I’ve gone from feeling “imminent” to feeling like it could easily be another week - - or more. Every day I have a couple hours of contractions, and that’s it. I am very, very tired, since I have not gotten full night’s sleep in a week. I try to nap, but that’s hard on work days. I AM SO READY! Talk about being focused on one thing! At least at work I have other distractions. Here comes another contraction. Ho hum.

1997

I miss my friends. I need to reconnect with them, soon. And I need to deal with Mom’s Christmas card list. Another round of mourning, as the holidays approach. But mindfulness will help, I think…

2016

It had to end. The journey that started on October 25 with a flight from DC to Denver ends tomorrow with a return flight. Today I drive the four hours from North Platte to Denver. I am at the Espresso Shop, sitting on an armchair in the "living room" instead of in my "office". I am biding my time and watching the forecast, because it snowed about 4" last night and the wind has picked up and is reportedly driving the snow across the interstate. But I should be out of here within 30 minutes, because I don't know how long the drive will take.

The best thing about the drive is it will give me time to mentally draft my next post. Or posts. Here's a teensy preview:

Being a visitor has its advantages. I could engage in polite conversation about politics with complete strangers. We could talk about bullying, about my concerns for the safety of my students, friends and colleagues, and hope they could understand, or even empathize. I could voice my objection to propaganda and bad journalism, and even use specific examples. Only once did the discussion edge toward "crooked Hilllary" territory, and I headed it off by sharing a specific debunked example of fake news.

But the main reason it stayed polite is my own restraint. Was it out of fear or courtesy? Or was my courtesy motivated by fear, not of physical harm, but social ostracism? There's a lot of that kind of fear in this small, friendly town. People need to be able to depend on each other, and anything that threatens to fray that relational safety net is to be avoided. So rather than speak from their hearts, people bite their tongues, if they are in the political minority. The majority can then find it easy to (1) assume everyone is on their side, and to (2) imagine the political opposition as crazy, stupid, "others". North Platte has a very large political "closet". Would I be inside of it, or out?

Something to think about on the long drive to Denver.

2021

Today was supposed to be a “Riderwood” day, and so it was. I had to respond to a nastygram or two (actually three) from a committee colleague. I hope I handled it well. The rest of the day is for me.