Flags at half mast all over town...

Stushie, over at Presbyterian Bloggers, made this. He's made lots of nice stained glass window-ish pieces, but this one he said we could use if we wanted to for meditations on this week's events. WOW.

The school colors are in the flame (yellow and orange).

On my walk home, this is the passage that came to me, a passage of text that I come back to again and again (thank you Jay McInerney.)

You are a republic of voices tonight. Unfortunately, that republic is Italy. All these voices waving their arms and screaming at one another. There's an ex cathedra riff coming down from the Vatican: Repent. Your body is the temple of the Lord and you have defiled it. It is, after all, Sunday morning, and as long as you have any brain cells left there will be a resonant patriarchal basso echoing down the marble vaults of your churchgoing childhood to remind you that this is the Lord's Day. What you need is another overpriced drink to drown it all out. But a search of pockets yields only a dollar bill and change. You paid twenty to get in here. Panic gains. (Bright Lights, Big City, p. 6, by Jay McInerney.)

I kicked a newspaper box today. I yelled at it. It was this paper (pdf. file) Nowhere above the crease (the part of the paper seen in street boxes) did it even mention what happened in Virginia on Monday. Okay, already I'm a republic of voices, because it did--but the headline was "Public Safety vs. Right to Privacy." Hello? The focus of the article is how the privacy of the information that Cho was mentally ill somehow is the reason he got away with murder. Great reporting. An editorial on red tape in the corner of the front page. If you've been paying attention at all, you know by now there's a Federal law saying that folks that have been labeled "a danger to themselves" can't buy guns. There's a big bruhaha on how Cho bought not one but two guns.

Contrast that with this front page. (pdf. file) The article starts off talking about Cho's mother. Humanize the story. Let us know that we are all just people. Apparently (did you sense the pause) it's one of the articles you won't find online. That's okay, I need to buy the paper today anyways.

I took a walk this morning. It was the first morning walk in a very long time. I couldn't find my disc-man, so I heard the mourning doves. (I do not like mourning doves, but that's another story for another day.) I walked past grass glistening with dew and I couldn't help but think of the most optimistic verse of the most pessimistic prophet:

18 So I say, "My splendor is gone
and all that I had hoped from the LORD."

19 I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.

20 I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.

21 Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.

23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

24 I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him." (Lamentations 3:18-24)

It reminds me of Gerard Manley Hopkin's poem, God's Grandeur:

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;	5
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;	10
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

I wrote a paper on this poem my sophomore year of college. Sister Maureen is gone by now, I'm sure. But I still remember her comment on my paper, "Why not end it well, the way the poet does?" Because after the poet laments that man smudges and leaves nature bare, the Holy Ghost broods with "warm breast and with ah! bright wings."

Let that sink in for a minute.

The exclamation point is the poet not being able to contain himself, akin to Elizabeth Bishop's "write it!" in One Art.

A few weeks ago, I had dreams several nights in succession that I was with the man I was to marry. A different man in each dream, a different locale. I was not yet married, but its immanence was implied. This week I have dreamt of loss and gain. Last night I dreamed that Boston had come back, that we, along with the cast of Friends, were trying to catch a train to Buffalo. And it depended on me wrapping a gift correctly. I woke to realize it was a dream, she is still estranged.

My father is apt to quote Blaise Pascal: "I apologize that this letter is so long. I did not have the time to make it short." This post is doing that. My mind is a republic of voices and while I do not have a shortage of space, I do have a deadline: I must be at work in an hour and ten minutes. I must be driving for thirty of those minutes. I had a large breakfast, (which I ate part of with Babs at Tazzo!*) so I'm not hungry, but I have to fix food, as I will be the only person in my department and not able to take a meal break.

I am angry. That co-workers this week by Wednesday were citing the news blitz as too much. That the Tribune-Review would think an editorial on the front cover was good news coverage. That when I first sat down to start this post, a neighbor was using some noisy thing, requiring me to close my window.

I am sad. I am confused. I remember as a child, being sent out to the front lawn of our school in Tegucigalpa because there had been a bomb threat. We would sit there, wondering if that bump was a buried bomb. But we were children, children who for the most part were very safe. We had dogs, for watching, and night watchmen who paced our quiet streets while we slept, and we had to go through security to visit our dads at work. But we knew nothing of gunshots, or blood. We had two TV channels, 5 and 7. No Internet, no email. The Miami Herald was a day old at best when it reached us.

Sort of a Latin American Mayberry? Not really. We didn't go to Nicaragua for Thanksgiving the first year we moved there because of the war there. But what do I remember most about El Salvador? That the great towels came from there.

Get to the point, my brain yells. And yet, I cannot. I do not want to think that I live in a world where all the pundits can talk about is gun laws and campus security.

This morning when I walked the stairs (I pray for families when I walk the stairs in Highland Park, the stairs above "Lake" Carnegie) I prayed for the 33 families of the deceased. I prayed for Ted Bundy's mom.

My time is up. It's 12:01 and I have to think about a shower, some lunch, and what to wear.


*more on that later. How I love my little neighborhood café.

Weather report brings laughter--"it'll warm up today, expect 33 degrees F": Sarah Louise catches you up on everything and much much more!

And the Post Gazette front page that is in my car's backseat says, "What happened to winter?" (It's an old front page.) (My back seat is where things go to die, and books go to become overdue.)

Sitting at the Take Care Nurse-in-a-Box two weeks ago (right before I was diagnosed with the double ear infection) I read an editor's letter in a magazine that said, "Readers reading this will be saying this was the winter that wasn't." (not an actual quote, but from memory.) You'll forgive me for tossing that magazine aside.

Yesterday we had 1-3 inches of snow in the morning. We got winter, it just was a little late.

I got more antibiotics, this time for a sinus infection. Things I learned:

• Throw out your toothbrush! (I sort of knew that.)
• Warm vaporizors are great at harboring bacteria. The cold vapor ones are the way to go. That cost me $50 yesterday. This is counter to a magazine article I read, but as seen above, magazines LIE! Nurses, however, are smart!
• This one surprised me: guaf and decongestants might actually be detrimental if you're not drinking enough liquids, because they dry you up.
  

I came home, had the lovely leftovers of General T's chicken*, lay down for a nap around 7 pm, and woke up at 11 to take my bedtime meds. I was going to do a load of laundry, but nixed that idea and went back to bed, sleeping until 7 this morning. The news tells me it's around thirteen Fahrenheit. Yahoo tells me it's about 20 degrees Fahrenheit. Duquesne Light (call for the time and temperature: 412-391-9500) says it's 16 degrees. One of these days I'll figure out how to make the degrees symbol show up (tell me if you know, in the comments?).

I have no committment to be at work until 1 pm, but since I was all petered out at 3:45 yesterday, the plan is to go in today 9ish or 10ish (I'm not rushing!!). I was actually at work for six hours yesterday--a veritable record!! (I worked four hours on Tuesday.)

The Pens might go to Vegas? What would they be, the Las Vegas Pens? I mean, blech!!! I had planned to go see them at the Igloo (yes, the Mellon Arena) this season but it hasn't happened yet...

Oh, and Happy International Women's Day!!

And since my last post, folks have been clamoring for other bipolar symptoms.

So here's a "Could it be Bipolar?" test sponsored by Seroquel, a drug used for bipolar disorder. The last bipolar book I took out of the library (I don't even remember the name, it was that bad) was written by a doctor who was convinced that most of the population of NYC has bipolar to some degree. That Bill Clinton exhibited bipolar leanings. And a number of other people. Forgive me for not remembering--the book was trash!! The book sort of glorified the manic portion of what used to be called manic depression. As long as it was hypo-manic (the energetic feeling you get before it's really dangerous), use it. Well, if you have bipolar, you sort of know that, and that is when you clean the house, but seriously, if it goes to manic, then you get the "what goes up must go down"--depression!! The higher the high, the downer the down.

That pause was a call from my work-a-holic mom. Yes, she has a two hour delay, but she was calling me from the school parking lot. "It's like a gift of two hours!" I am grateful for Mary, over at My Vast Veranda**, for showing me that teachers do and can have actual lives. Over the weekend, my mother crowed, I work and then it gives me more energy to do more (extra stuff) (work). She claims it's because there's no one to do stuff with (that she puts so much into her work.) I cannot fix my mama. It's really good that I'm NOT living down there right now. I told her, I'll come down to VA and make you play Scrabble with Daddy!! No one in that house communicates with each other. I go home and stir the pot. Yeah, I think I'll stay up here in Pittsburgh for a while. My need to FIX THINGS could really get out of hand if I moved down there right now.

For the first time in YEARS, I don't have a crush. It's sort of a bizarre feeling, but I feel good. (Although, the first coupla weeks were HELL, as folks that I email to can attest.) I had hoped something might happen with the guy I met at the Jubilee dinner (from Annapolis) but there was nothing on his end, no "What's your phone number," or "Gosh, I hope to see you when you come down to see your Mom in a few weeks." Which I didn't. Sunday, I went to the fellowship where I had initially met him and he was nowhere. Oh well. And at breakfast, Friday, with one of my truth-teller friends, Sasha, when I told her about playing "Dutch Bingo" with the guy when I saw him at Jubilee, she said, no, that just means God is telling you there are guys out there. Oh. So I don't think I'm heading for lifelong singlehood, if God is telling me there are guys out there, but WHERE IS HE***???

Anyways.

Hmm.

So.

So, it's International Women's Day? What will YOU do to celebrate? bobbie, of Emerging Sideways, one year celebrated by giving her and her daughter red plates (a celebratory tradition in their house.) I think I'll celebrate by GOING TO WORK for seven hours!! I think I could actually do it! Be home to watch the Office? Hey, it sounds kind of fun...

*My local Chinese restaurant is great: for about $6, I get tea, soup or egg roll, water, and an entree. AND, the portions mean I get two meals. Chinese for lunch, Chinese for dinner. YUM.

**Okay, a bad choice for a post to show that teachers have lives. But she has time to blog. And she has pets. And if you read this, you'll see she has time to read, and watch TV, two things my mother doesn't do. (Gee, do I have issues with my mother loving her job?) My mother works 24/7. I-am-not-kidding. (It actually reminds me of my father, when he was fixing the economy in Poland, in the early nineties. Hmm, do you think work-a-holism can be contagious?)

***(Charlotte, from SATC. The actual full quote is: "My hair hurts. I've been dating since I was fifteen. I'm exhausted. Where is he?")

"I'm fine, but I'm bipolar..." (Carrie Fisher)

Bipolar disorder can be a great teacher. It's a challenge, but it can set you up to be able to do almost anything else in your life. (Carrie Fisher)

By now you know I get a devotional every day from the Purpose Driven Life. This was in today's:

"Eugene Debs, who ran for president of the United States as a third party candidate in 1912, had this to say while campaigning:

As long as there is a lower class, I am in it.
As long as there is a criminal element, I'm of it.
As long as there is a soul in prison, I am not free." (John Fischer)

It made me think about the former vice presidential candidate that just died. Good old whats-his-name, the one who had to resign his candicacy when he revealed he'd been admitted to a mental hospital for depression.

Thank God I live in a time where even Newsweek magazine thinks depression in men is important enough that they have a cover story on it. (Not that I've read it, but I think I will now, and I hope that guy is mentioned in it, for historical reasons.)

Yesterday on the bus, I worked on a few surveys for a study I was in a while back. When I finish them, I'll get $45. That will pay for the bus ride yesterday, thankyouverymuch. I am forever frustrated at the literature on bipolar that comes across my desk to review DDC numbers. Which is probably why I'm not out there looking for information, since what I see is so pedantic, so not helpful to ME. BJ keeps telling me I should write a book, and I will, eventually...

Anyways. I've been diagnosed with bipolar for over seven years now and was very surprised to see these as options on the survey, and thought, wow, are these bipolar qualities? Because they sure are things I suffer from, and had I known that was a bipolar quality...well, if you don't know why you do what you do...

Here are the statements:

It is important that people admire me.

When I get new ideas, I must tell people at once and at length so that they admire me.

If I notice something new, I must make every effort to think about how it connects with everything else.

There might be more, I still have at least three more packets left to work on. But wow! It is important in my tiny mind that I am admired. I do go on about new ideas. I do make every effort to connect things in my life to each other. All these things are crazymakers in my life.

I'm still on the therapist hunt. There's a possibility with the place downstairs from where I see my psychiatrist. It would combine group therapy and individual therapy, depending on how well you were doing. (If you're doing better, group. If you're not so good, individual.) I have never really liked group therapy, since I've never met anyone with bipolar that I liked. Isn't that horrible? It makes me feel like I must be this prima-donna that thinks she's better than everyone, which I suppose is sometimes true, but I hate that it could be...

They say that if you don't like a person, it could be because you see yourself in them.

This post is losing its steam. But I had to at least, you know, get these thoughts out, since I have to see how new ideas connect, etc. etc.

Go, and have good mental health!

And ugh, I've come back to an apartment that is so cluttered it's shutting me down, and I'm still taking decongestants every four hours.

Harper Collins...messing experimenting with books

The new paperbacks of the Little House series are out. The covers are photographs of people dressed up to be old fashioned and the Garth Williams illustrations that used to people the books are GONE!

This is worse than when they decided The Magicians Nephew was Book One of the Narnia series!! At least then they kept Pauline Bayne's illustrations!!

Ursula Nordstrom is rolling in her grave, I know it.

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

Update: found this wonderful blog (KEWL) and a Harper's editor who has been overseeing the repackaging came in and said, It's only one edition, we're still keeping the editions (paper and hardcover) that have the Garth illustrations. PHEW!!

I happen to be doing Freaky Friday for Mother/Daughter on Saturday and had forgotten how "bad" it was (the mom smokes, there are curse words...) It fits the UN (Ursula Nordstrom) "good books for bad children" oevre. Btw, did you know Mary Rodgers was the daughter of Richard Rodgers (as in R and Hammerstein????) She was very instrumental in putting together Free to be you and me, which shaped my view of the world back in the seventies... (when I was a child.)

Oh, and if you click on the "Nordstrom" part of the U.N. link (above) you'll read one interesting tidbit...UN never went to college!! And this woman shaped how we see Children's Literature today, capital C, capital L.

Autodidacts of the world, rejoice!

Oh, and go visit my darling friend Caro. She just had a birthday, has joined the post-beta Blogger world and changed her moniker from Carolyn to Caro because I had been using it to address her. Little old me!! It boggles the mind!

Footnote: I think I may need to start contributing to Wikipedia--they are such an invaluable source (of most of my links in this post).

Oh, and in case you were keeping track at home: it was either 9 or 6 when I woke up and now it is 13-15 (degrees Fahrenheit).

TGIF, everyone. I may (yeah right) take the weekend off. Hey, it could happen! I just found some parts of the main portion of my "story," the one I'll be using in my application for the MFA.

Chuß! Tschüß (it's pronounced chuss and it's ciao for the German speaking population.)

Pittsburgh news: Drink more Iron City!!

Pittsburgh Brewing Acquisition: To save the company, people took a 15% pay cut. (Post-Gazette article) "But if the people of Pittsburgh don't start drinking more of our product, it's all for naught."(quote from TV-11 news)

Mike Tomlin is the Steelers new head coach. (Yes, really) (There was some confusion) (Tribune Review article)

Transportation crisis in da Burgh: talk to the legislators!! (Post-Gazette article.)

Anyways, the season opener of Crossing Jordan did not disappoint. Peace out, yins!

Oh, and it is truly winter.

And the band played on... (World AIDS Day)

Erin does it again! Today is World AIDS day and she of course remembered.

words that look like other words AND make sure you vote tomorrow Nov 7 if you live in the United States of America!!

McRib, for instance. McD's just has uppercase letters for their outside advertising, so it looks like this: MCRIB. And I see M Crib. It cracks me up.

Also, VOTESPA. It's the website for Votes Pennsylvania (Votes PA) but whenever I see it, I giggle as I think about how voting at the polls could be like a spa.

A few websites to learn about candidates in your area:

don't vote.com: it's run by AARP, with the tagline: don't vote until you know where the candidates stand on the issues. It has a map so you can target your state and then you can find your state district by entering your address in a pop-up. (I say this because my pop-up blocker blocked it the first time.) It has articles from local newspapers about the candidates running in your town or city.

votespa: if you live in Pennsylvania, this gives information about the new voting machines. It doesn't give info on the candidates. And there's nothing about spas either. Darn!

Reader's Digest: Get Vote-Ready! Their tagline is, "Fed up with partisan battles and crooked deals in Washington? Then get off your duff on Election Day." They have links to the websites for the Congress, the Senate, and Citizens for Government Waste. You also can read articles on voting and our government.

Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh Voter and Election Information: granted, most of this information is for folks living in Allegheny County, but scroll down for the national stuff.

Congress.org: This is run by Capital Advantage, with information on the U.S. Congress.

National Environmental Scorecard: This site eventually gets you to seeing how folks are voting for cleaner air, etc. in your state. It's a lot of clicking, but if you're diligent, you'll get there. You can do it!!

Project Vote Smart: Enter your 9 digit zip code and find out exactly who will be on your ballot.

I'm sure there are tons of other sites, but these are the ones I found. I don't care who you vote for (since I don't know who you are--lurkers!) but go out and make your voice heard.

Remember, it's a free country, which means you can vote for whoever you like and you don't have to tell anyone who you voted for!

JUST DO IT!

O give me a home...

where the buffalo roam, and the deer and the antelope play,
where seldom is heard a discouraging word.... (Traditional)

If you've been praying for Chloe, she's talking!! She's still in the hospital, but "recovering at a fast rate." Her dad said "I've never been so glad to hear the word 'Cinderella.'"

The news, it is good.

My dad went up to New York today. Tomorrow he'll have breakfast with an old college friend. Today he was there to support my Aunt's college roommate who has been recovering from breast cancer. Building bridges, that man does.

So I will remember October 16, 2006 as a day of good news. A long road stretches before us, but a breakthrough has occurred.

Harry is weaker and I am grateful. (Um, Harry is the cold.)

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

My aunt died about six years ago, suddenly. She and her roommate never were close, but from what I gather, they lived in a suite, the three of them. The other roommate (Betty) has kept in touch with both my father and the family of the roommate my dad visited today (Minnie). Betty sees my dad as a little brother--I gleaned this from an email my mom forwarded to her pastor about Minnie. So Betty has built the bridge, I guess, and my dad is a co-builder with her in support of Minnie. I don't think I've ever met any of these women that knew my aunt when she was a college student some 40 years ago. But reading about them, I feel closer to my aunt. And I feel protective of Minnie, even if she and my aunt didn't see eye to eye.

For whom does the bell toll? It tolls for thee. (John Donne, No man is an island.)

Someone asked me why I was upset about bit-bit-bit. Did they steal your stuff? No. They didn't need to. "Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind."

I can't do anything for Minnie. That is in my dad's sphere. But intellectual property and in particular to blogging, that is in my sphere.

I'll just keep posting on this. I don't know if you'll get a full blown rant from me, but I will do my own bit to bite away, bit by bit.

Here is the url for the main site that is working to stop the denigration and piracy of bloggers across the blogosphere. Just visit it. And tell everyone you know. It's how I'm trying to build a bridge. It's the decent thing to do.

********************
thanks to Wikipedia for the full text of this poem:

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

--Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)

Where were you?

Five years ago, at 7:57, I was sleeping. It was a Tuesday morning and I had decided to skip Women's Bible Study. I had a school project to finish, my first big project of library school. It was a survey of the journals in the school's collection. So I awoke to the radio telling me something about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. It didn't make sense to anyone, but eventually I caught on that this was too weird to stay in bed listening to the radio. I got up and turned on the TV. After being transfixed by what I was watching for a few minutes, I knocked on Sally's door. She was still asleep, so I let myself in (yes, at that time we all kept our doors unlocked.) I shook her gently and told her what was going on. She told me on our road trip last week that she will never forget me doing that. We turned on the TV and must have eaten breakfast. I honestly don't remember much of the details. What I remember is that downtown Pittsburgh was evacuated because there was news of a plane heading for Pennsylvania. Well, there are a lot of tall buildings in Pittsburgh. So we watched on TV, all the people going home. Everyone was given permission to do so. School was cancelled because there is one very tall building in Oakland, where the University of Pittsburgh has its main campus.

I remember reading in a book about how when John F. Kennedy died, people couldn't get through by phone for three days because everybody else was on the phone.

I knew someone who worked in a building near the Pentagon. I couldn't get through to her. I couldn't get through to my parents.

So Sally and I sat, with her son, A, and watched TV.

Later in the day, I walked down to the newspaper vending box and bought the afternoon edition, the first time in my memory that there had been such a thing.

I don't have any more personal stories. I don't know anyone who died. I have since met people while traveling that were meant to be there on that Tuesday and for whatever reason changed their plans.

I couldn't listen to Christmas music that year.

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

The image at the top of this post is of a wonderful children's book that won the prestigious Caldecott award for illustration. It's called The Man Who Walked Between the Towers
by Mordicai Gerstein. I've seen the videorecording of the book done by Weston Woods and it is phenomenal. It is the story of a daring man who tightroped between the Twin Towers soon after it was built.

Jessamyn put together a great list of links re: 9-ll. They are here.