When chatty is too chatty

I got an email from my professor entitled "A letter to pretty much everyone I know". It was a holiday greeting of sorts. I don't know if she intended to send it to students or if she simply sent it to her whole email list.

It was 'family newsletter' style, updating people on her life, what she is doing now, etc. Oh, and that she is pregnant! Yay.

Is that too personal to be telling students? She actually told me already, we were walking to the subway together after class and she said she hates taking the subway, she used to bike to school but she stopped now because she is pregnant, even if that is just an excuse.

When I say pregnant I mean I can barely tell. She sits at her desk most of the class but I have seen her standing up and I don't recall seeing a baby bump. (Although I'm not the greatest judge, in high school there were teachers like in their 5th month and girls would be whispering about it and I would be like, what, she's pregnant? Huh.)

She is a very friendly teacher and the class is small and 'intimate', but I still think a line should be drawn and personal information such as having a baby need not be shared.

Oh, so on the show 'The Biggest Loser' the trainer Bob 'came out' as being gay, he was trying to encourage a contestant to 'come out' to his parents. I saw an article how this is the first time that Bob was open about his gayness. But c'mon, we all knew already. So is he now gay because he said it publicly, or was he gay all along? But if someone called him gay before he 'came out', could he sue for defamation of character? Is that a real thing?

Does all personal information have to be shared publicly? 

What I'm thankful for

It's quiet in the apartment as I watch my menorah keep an eye on it while watching a show on my laptop and I am thankful for the quiet. It is hard living with other people and coming home after a hard day of work and being surrounded by noise, and being asked how my day is when I don't care to talk about it.

But at the same time I am thankful that I have people in my life who ask me about my day.

I am thankful for my free time, which is rare these days. Between work and school I am pretty busy and have very few hours that I can just relax.

I get a call from a friend asking if I can come over and babysit now. She took a gamble that I wouldn't be in school and she got lucky. It is cold and rainy out and the thought of leaving the house on my free night is not welcoming. But I always tell her "call me if you need me" and I am always busy when she does, so I go. And I am thankful for the three gorgeous cuties who keep me company when they are supposed to be sleeping. The 3 year old tells me about the menorah he made, and squeezing 'shemen zayis' into his menorah and I want to pinch his cheeks. I say I'll tell them one bedtime story and I struggle to remember the story of Chanukah, something about Antiachus the wicked king, he did to the Jews a terrible thing, and besides he was so mean....- hey it's hard to forget that song. But the kids help fill in the blanks and we get through the story just fine. Then I tell them it's time to sleep.

I am thankful that I have a job where I feel appreciated necessary for the cause and I feel accomplished (when I don't want to strangle someone). I like that I have my work 'people' and work jokes and am a part of it.

I am thankful that I get to leave work at work and go home at the end of the day and not think about it.

We take so many things for granted, like food and shelter and money. I can't imagine my life any other way, neither richer nor poorer. I have come to accept that what I have is mine and I achieved it, I earned it. But it can be taken away in a second.

I am thankful that I feel content and grounded in life, that I am proud of what I have done and where I am heading. I am proud of what I left behind, it is great to be able to recognize that at any given moment in life, you are where you were meant to be.

Happy first night of Chanukah. Have a donut!

Silence

Chance.

John Cage's 4'33”. 

At first I thought it was the dumbest thing I ever heard, to take silence and call it music. 

How can you say that someone “composed” silence, or that they own it? 

It looks really dumb seeing a guy sitting there and not playing the piano for 4 minutes and 33 seconds. 

But truly, it is brilliant. It makes one question, what is music really? 

Is music the beautiful sounds of flutes and violins played for people who want to enjoy the music or dance to it? 

Is music the loud blaring pop that we listen to today? 

Or perhaps the jazz that was so popular, with all the instruments that came with it. 

Methods of chance are weird, make up strange sounds, take objects that we would not normally think of as instruments and use them to compose what can only be referred to as noise and that I would ask someone, no insist that they turn it off. 

It is torturous to listen to it and think thatanyone can possibly call that music. 

But to think that someone could block out a portion of silence and call it music, learn to listen to the sounds, a portion of time can never be duplicated, the idea of it is brilliant. 

Even if I would never choose to listen to it.

Scattered Pieces

There was money on the floor and no one was picking it up.

They didn't seem to realize that those tiny greenish scraps of paper littering the floor was a dollar bill torn into many pieces.

Who would do that?

Scattered forever never to be reunited.

Or perhaps swept up and thrown away.

21 pieces. All over.

There is George Washington's face.

You just stepped on him.

Clever, or stupid?

A game?

A message?

Were 'they' waiting and watching for someone to pick up the pieces and put the puzzle together?

But I can see it's just one dollar.

So really, is it worth it?

What Now

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Someone left the tap on again. I watch it and contemplate getting up to shut it off.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I have an essay due tomorrow. Haven't yet started it.

Drip. Drip.

Essay will not write itself.

I just sit and stare and listen to the sounds around me, try to hear the silence in the music, and wait for someone to walk by and shut it off.

I stand in the supermarket isle, my basket too heavy to hold.

I leave it there on the floor and walk up and down the isle, looking for a certain type of chips that I can't seem to find.

Get to the end of the isle and turn around and keep looking. Nothing.

Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.

The sink is leaking harder now.

I can't find the chips. Where are the chips?

Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.

Why won't it stop.

I sit outside on the steps eating licorice. Close my eyes and hope no one will find me here.

Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.Drip.

I found the chips. They are long gone now.

The tap is still dripping. It won't stop.

It's a steady stream. 

I can't seem to move.

Someone walks by. I ask her to shut off the tap.

The dripping stops.

Two minutes later someone leaves the tap on again.

I can't seem to win.

Wish I knew what to do next.

Remember, Remember, the 5th of November....

Happy 5 years of blogging!

Today also marks one year from the day that I started working at my current job. Big accomplishment for me, considering I could never imagine myself committing to one job for more than a few months.

I am older and wiser now, and more prepared to take on the world. I hope that this coming year will enable me to continuing growing and analyzing the world around me, in an effort to understand it. I hope that I can add a new perspective, and that people will gain something from seeing the world through my oddly shaped glasses.

Have a cupcake in my honor.