Un-March

It snowed 18 inches in Hutchinson on Friday. Therefore, I didn't drive into the blizzard.

So I went to Jedsen's apartment in Lenexa where he was stocking up on firewood for coziness. The fire certainly was cozy, but the blizzard didn't come. It rained. And then it started snowing early Saturday afternoon, giving us about 4" here.

I hate being trapped in a place: I'm restless, anxious. And then we're adventurous. We walked across Quivira Rd to the tiny gas station and got coffees and pop. It was fun. Wet and fun.

Now I'm watching it all melt, all the big drops falling from the tree outside Jedsen's dining room window. It's sunny and lovely. I have to go home today, so the roads had better be good. I'm thinking the Hutch trip will be taken next weekend to make up for this one. Lots to be done.

Funny business

KU Plans Upgrades for Sports Facilities

Um, an Olympic Village? Have you seen Wescoe Hall, yet? Our humanities building? It was built to be a twelve story parking garage, but they ran out of money and made it a building instead. It's the ugliest, most out-of-place building on campus.

I'm pretty sure $25 million dollars could do wonders to build us a new humanities building or renovate or improve technology or at least the bathrooms in Wescoe. So nonrevenue sports are getting an Olympic Village, while the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, the largest in the university, is ignored. We keep our eyesore up on the hill and transform the bottom of the hill into something that does not benefit academics? Where are the priorities? It's always with sports. Don't get me wrong, I love basketball and football and sports in general, but a university is to learn and have the best access to tools and environments that will help one learn. The English Department is in a hiring freeze. We have no money. We need more faculty, especially in creative writing. It infuriates me.

One Hundred Five

My great grandma turns 105 today. 105.

Here's an article: Woman Nearing 105th Birthday Still Immersed in the Joys of Life.

She lives with her son and daughter-in-law, my dad's parents, and has for several years. She was against it for a long time--wanted to stay in her own house by herself for as long as she could. She's very independent. She drove until she was, I think, 95. She babysat me when she was nearing 90. She's amazing.

Her daughter and grandchildren and great grandchildren are coming from California to celebrate. I, too, am headed to Hutchinson tomorrow. I never know what visit will be the last visit with her. She just keeps on.

I don't think I will ever publish this poem, so this is a piece of her. By me. 2008.

Great Grandma’s Kitchen

Oh, how we rolled
out the dough. How she beat it
with her bony hands and taught me
to press evenly. How the rolling
pin was too big for me
to handle. How she brushed
on the butter, the melted
yellow, and made impressions
in the dough. How she let me
sprinkle on the cinnamon with even
shakes. Then roll it all. Roll it tight. And
cut it in circles to line a circular pan.
And then how she mixed
the icing and showed me how to work
a wooden spoon. How I then painted
the icing on pillowed rolls
like she did, the white dripping
into puddles. How she watched
Lawrence Welk while we waited
for the pan to cool and set two
plates on the table. How she
let me lick the icing from my fingers
because she did it too.

Feeling

I've found that I get so excited to write that it's hard to do the actual writing. I'm planning out my thesis, and there's all this pressure. I actually have to write it all. It all has to come out of me. And this anxiety doesn't help. In fact, it's quite hindering. Still trying to find my antidote for anxiety. My chest just closes, and the tingles rise from my chest to my head. It's hard for anything to get through there. It makes me tired and dread doing things that include thinking. Which includes writing and grading, both which I must do tonight.

So I try and distract myself by watching NCAA basketball. It's not working. But at least KU won. I'm rooting for all Big 12 teams. I always feel bad for the losing team. I always want to hug them. Which is weird.

I tried to take a bath to calm down. I tried. My bathtub slowly drains the water. The hot water only lasts for the first three inches. It's not really a bath. Here, it's sitting in a few inches of lukewarm water for about five minutes. I should stop trying.

I'm getting into shape. I'm losing this fat. I don't weigh that much more than I used to, but I feel so different. It's all around my midsection and thighs and bum. I'm too tired to be out of shape. I bought new Nikes, lovely Nikes, last night at Sports Authority. And Jedsen got some real tennis shoes. Then we played tennis. You should shop at Sports Authority. They are the nicest people. Great people in Chicago and Overland Park. Great deals. Great shoes. Shoes rub my heels. These new ones are slightly rubbing my left heel, but there has yet to be breakage of skin. Hopefully there won't be. I haven't had a non-heel-bleeding pair of shoes since my favorite Reeboks in middle school.

Oh, this doesn't feel good.

So get this

I, my friends, am done with coursework at the end of the semester. Done. No more picking out classes like I've done for the last six years. No more "well, I really don't want to take that class, but I guess it's really my only option." No more "I can't wait to take that class!" Now, it's all teaching and thesis hours. Thesis hours. Writing only when I'm not grading or planning. Writing nonfiction because I don't have the heart for poetry right now. Writing essays is love. Except this week when I have one due for a workshop on Tuesday--that's when I can't write. Write about wanting to be foreign. I want to be foreign. Displace. I'm thinking that's the theme and close-to title of this thesis. I don't really write about place. I write about wanting to be in another place: physically, emotionally, mentally. I'm turning some poems into essays. Well, I'm planning on turning some poems into essays. There's a lot to do and no place to do it. Until July. Then I'll be in the new apartment: with light and space and tables and real furniture. Then maybe I'll be able to write. Then maybe the anxiety will stop. Then maybe the light will turn on the happy. I can write here. Sorry I haven't for a while. It's been wild. Grading. Stressing about planning.

I'm twittering. Started yesterday, and I don't know why. http://twitter.com/karijack

I've also started drinking coffee--though really only Dunkin' Donuts coffee. A lot has changed in 2009.

Now spring break is over. Jedsen's just starting his. And now it's a race till the end, which probably won't come until the end of May because of all the grading that will have to be done. Birthday is in a few weeks: 24. Mid-twenties. I get to renew my drivers license, too. Now it will be landscape oriented (because I'm now well over 21) and say I live in Lawrence. And I will have bangs and earrings in my photo. And probably some shirt from H&M. A lot has changed in four years. I'm thinking of actually celebrating this birthday since it will be on a Friday. I will refuse to do homework on this birthday. I will eat something delicious. I will enjoy.