The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

Maybe I’m Too Easily Entertained March 25, 2015

My motto for life, apparently!

My motto for life, apparently!

Hello all!  Ok, I don’t think this is likely to happen:  I don’t think I am in any danger of anyone thinking I am cool.  Or hip.  Or with-it.  Or fleek, or whatever the word is these days.  Ok?  Pretty sure nobody has ever mistaken me for any of those things, BUT.  Just in case I’m ever on the verge of being thought of as having or possessing in any way, any modicum of cool-ness, let me dispel that notion right here and now.

*

See, because it takes a certain kind of person, a certain kind of personality, to enjoy at the age of 42 something meant to entertain 6-year-olds.  Today on the way to school, The Boy and I were listening to a CD recording of a book in the Hank the Cow Dog series.  First of all, if you have never heard of this adorable series, let me just say it is Hilarious.  With a capital H.  It is, in fact, so cleverly written as to border on brilliant.  The books themselves are adorable, but listening to them read on CD is even more special.  They are read and voiced by the author himself.

*

Now, the particular story we were listening to was called The Case of the Tricky Trap, wherein:

Someone has been stealing feed out of the feed shed, and Hank knows that it’s his job to do whatever he can to help nab the culprit. Slim sets a live-animal trap in the shed, and Hank checks it in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, the trap is a little trickier than Hank anticipated, and in the process of his investigation Hank manages to get himself…well…trapped. Can Hank find a way out of this sticky situation?

*

The thing I enjoy most about these stories on CD is absolutely the voices.  What intrigues and entertains me about these voices is that they are all done by the same person, but each one is a completely different, completely developed character.  For the last two evenings I’ve been watching auditions for the new show ALT is doing, their final show of the season, Tuna Does Vegas.  I usually love watching auditions because it’s interesting to see how people interpret characters, and it’s something I am just learning.  Sometimes people take things in a way you would never expect, and the result is usually pants-wetting funny!

*

So back to Hank.  As you might expect from a story set in the Texas panhandle, there are two buzzards in the series- a father and son duo of buzzards called Wallace and Junior.  In this episode, Wallace is getting a huge kick out of the fact that poor old clueless Hank has gotten himself stuck in a trap, and decides to entertain him with a song.  (There’s almost always a song in these stories, and they are genius!)

*

Right about the time it was time for The Boy to get out of the car and go in to school, this song was cueing up.  Now don’t we assume that most moms would turn off the kid music when the kid gets out of the car?  Aren’t most moms dying for adult music, news, ads, talk radio, or anything you might hear on your morning commute?  Well, not this mom. The Boy gets out of the car, flashes me a wicked grin, and says “Enjoy your song, Mom!” And as he shuts the door, I crank up the volume a little more and listen to this:

*

…and laugh and laugh.

*

Maybe I’m just blowing off stress because I leave for Alaska SIX WEEKS from tomorrow!  I have three weeks to pack up my office and get it ready to move to Tennessee.  Then three weeks more to get new clothes bought and ship a few things I can’t take on the plane with me.  It’s going to go super fast.  Yikes!  Stay tuned for my new blog detailing my Alaska adventures.  Also plan to join Instagram for the purpose of sharing all the pictures people keep begging me to post, so watch for that.

*

Until next time,

D.

 

Loving Learning, Sharing Experience, and Being Honest April 5, 2013

English: Infographic on how Social Media are b...

English: Infographic on how Social Media are being used, and how everything is changed by them. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello all!  There is so much I want to say today.  I spent the first half of today at my alma mater, visiting my favorite college professors.  I even got to sit in on a class- Honors Philosophy and Ethics.  It was cup-filling, soul refreshing, wonderful.  I don’t think it’s possible to understate how much I love being on a college campus, roaming the grounds, searching musty-smelling library shelves, sitting in a classroom…there’s just something magical about the whole atmosphere.  I love seeing traditional college students, thinking about what a great time in their lives this is supposed to be- that first foray into adult independence when they go off to school.  And then…I remember that I’ve had that, and you can’t really re-create it into infinity.  It’s meant to be a certain time in your life, not the totality of a life.  That said, I am seriously considering beginning to look into graduate programs and/or adjunct teaching positions solely for the purpose of hanging out in the World of College.

*

I have also been looking at a lot of other blogs through links on Twitter, and there are so many writing challenges I would like to be taking part in, ((A to Z Blogging Challenge, NaPoWriMo, etc.) so many great things to read, so many great things waiting to be written.  And possibly some mundane, average, mediocre things to be written, but I enjoy the process of creating too much to back down just because the result might not be amazingly deep or clever.  And I think the rest of the world does too- they are just becoming trained to do it in 140 character Tweets or Facebook status updates, except for the writers and bloggers who can’t contain themselves to such limited venues.  The urge to create and share seems to be an overwhelming human instinct.  Or the current social media landscape is speeding up the evolutionary process toward making it so.  Either way, I’m pretty sure self-expression has never been quite so widespread, varied, and popular.

*

Poetry.  I mentioned NaPoWriMo, both above and in my previous post, and I would love, love, LOVE to be posting something new and awesome here that fits that definition, but…how do I say this?  The things inside me that want to come out in that form- I need to save them for myself right now.  They just don’t really fit the mold of ‘Made For Public Consumption.’  I’ve sort of created this blog to be easily accessible from my real world life, and unfortunately I haven’t really achieved my tagline of being my True Self in front of all those people.  I might feel the need to apologize.  Explain.  Defend.  Justify.  Rationalize.  Stuff I don’t really want to do, because we’re talking about my unique feelings and experiences, and I’m entitled to those, in all their gory glory or their desolate, blowing emptiness, or their rich, deep beauty.  They are mine, not my readers’ but when I put them out there for the world to see, they become my readers’ too, to interact with, share, relate to, or even disdain.  I guess I’m just not ready for that level of intimacy.  It’s risky.  But so is life, I guess.

*

That may be my point- as anonymous as blogging, Tweeting, Facebooking, Instagramming, and all the rest ARE, they are also a form of intimacy, or they can be.  Letting someone into your head- your thoughts and feelings.  Or maybe that’s just blogging the way I do it.  I’m not sure that I’m not just wading in deep BS at this point.  It’s just that people are always trying to break off that intimacy.  You’ve seen it- we’ve all seen it.  A friend or follower decides they’ve had enough of the social media scene, dramatically exit whatever stage they’re on, Twitter, Facebook, or whatever it is, but like a co-dependent relationship, they always come back.  There’s just something about that connection with other people, creating, sharing, that keeps us reactivating those accounts.  It’s understandable and inevitable.

*

ANYWAY…

Here’s a short snippet of the poem that’s forming itself in my head:

I was talking about you.

It meant YOU, damn it.

It referred to how it is for me,

seeing your name, your face, your words

and how it’s a fresh gut punch every time it happens.

How I hate the way I’d rather feel that punch

Than lose touch again.

How I know we’ll never be

what we might once have wanted to be,

but what we are is enough.

It is too much.  It is not enough. It is enough.

And I don’t know why, but it is what it is.

*

Until next time,

D.

 

I’m Just That Weird February 7, 2013

From George Cruikshank's illustrations to Laur...

From George Cruikshank’s illustrations to Laurence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy. Plate I: The Effects of Trim’s Eloquence (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello all.  Ok, I couldn’t really explain where this feeling came from or what prompted it.  I’m a little bit unusual in the respect that I’m about to describe.  I’m not sure other people feel like this, and I wonder if it means I have like, boundary issues or something.  But here it is.  For some reason, today I am really missing my English professors.  Yep.  I miss my English professors.  They were special to me.  I went to a tiny little regional state school in Durant, Oklahoma, and there were four people there whom I just really loved.  They were the Big Four in the English department and the chairmanship of the department has rotated between most of them several times, I think.  Dr. Paula Allen, Dr. Randy Prus, Dr. John Mischo, and Dr. Mark Spencer.  Let me just tell you about them.

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First, Dr. Allen.  The only woman in this little quartet, she was a fascinating person.  I got the sense that she had had adventures, you know?  The classes I took with her were World Literature, Methods in English Education, and Middle School/High School Lit.  Dr. Allen helped me through one of the most difficult times of my life; she was my supervisor during my first (and as it turned out, only) year as an English teacher.  I wish I knew her better so I could talk about her views and politics, but it’s been a long time.  My impression of her was that she is a dedicated, passionate teacher, teacher trainer, feminist advocate, and overall, a wonderful person.

*

Dr. Randy Prus.  He was… an interesting experience.  I wish I could go back in time and take his classes again, because I think I’d probably understand them so much better now.  His incredible intelligence made him seem a little spacey, kind of stoner-deep.  He’d throw out concepts, ideas, words… at the time they seemed connected by just the barest thread of a theme, but to him they probably all wove together perfectly.  I had American Lit and Creative Writing with him.  The creative writing class was the most fun because that was my strength.  I was a poet.  At least I thought I was.  I loved showing off my stuff in that class.  I think I struggled in the lit class because the selections seemed boring and I didn’t understand what he was trying to tell us about them.  The thing I seem to remember about his classes is that he tried to stretch your mind, to make you think deeper, and yet more creatively.  At the time, he was intimidating.  He probably still would be, but I enjoyed learning from him.  I still don’t know if I understand the term ‘trope’ though.

*

Dr. John Mischo.  I took English Lit and Shakespeare with him.  He made us do what he called a ‘response card.’  Every class we’d have to write on a note card our response to a writing prompt from the assigned reading.  It was terrifying, because sometimes I just felt like I didn’t understand anything I’d just read and I had no idea how I was going to come up with something even mildly intelligent to say about it, yet somehow I usually did well.  I still remember how proud I was of a paper I did that he really praised, and I was shocked.  It was titled’Wimpy Knights and Ugly Women’ and right this minute I can’t even remember what it was about, but it got a 98, which felt like winning the lottery.  He is especially special to me because he took the time to drive an hour to attend my wedding.  I invited all of them but didn’t really expect any of them to make it, and I had never been so shocked and honored in my life as when I saw him there.

*

Dr. Mark Spencer.  Ah, Spence.  How do I even describe him?  He was quiet and serious, and made nerdy English-teacher jokes that he was usually the only one laughing at, other than me.  I had several classes with him:  Literary Criticism, History of the Novel, and seems like one or two more, but I can’t think now what they were.  Literary Criticism was one of the first classes I took when I went back to school.  I had tried to take it once before and had to drop it because it made so little sense to me, and failing was not an option.  I remember being absolutely terrified about the class, but he was so warm and funny I managed to make it through, and couldn’t figure out what was so hard about it before.  The only time in my life I was ever assigned a book to read and couldn’t because it was just too darned dull was Tristram Shandy, which he seemed to talk about all the time.  He was always checking his pocket watch, which wasn’t an actual pocket watch, but the face of a little digital watch he’d taken the straps off of, and I still can’t figure out why he didn’t just wear a watch.  In a way he was the stereotypical nerdy English teacher, and I adored him, but I was so curious about who he really was as a person.  It’s a wonder I actually learned anything.

*

I think these four educators are special to me because they were part of my life when I felt like I was where I belonged.  I had gone back to school at 35 years old, and I fell back into it like I’d never been gone.  I excelled because I love being a student.  I’m good at it.  I could take classes from these four teachers forever and be content.   At least that’s how I feel sometimes.  Sometimes I remember that the point of reading and literature and culture and all of that is to make you realize there’s a big world about there, and in addition to reading it, you can also aspire to actually see it for yourself.  I can’t imagine where these four teachers have collectively been, what they’ve seen.  I hope I can someday see even a fraction of what they’ve seen and done.  But I hope they know that today… for some reason, they are on my mind.  Today is a day that I would literally hop into my car and drive for an hour just to run across campus and up three floors of Morrison Hall just to say hi and let them know they meant something to somebody.  They meant something to me.  For an educator, that’s success.

*

Until next time,

D.

 

I Tried and Tried, But A Good Title For This One Just Wouldn’t Come November 21, 2012

Romeo + Juliet

Romeo + Juliet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello all.  I’d like to start by wishing everyone a happy Thanksgiving.  I’ve wanted to write for a couple of days now, and just wasn’t feeling it.  But I do have to share something that happened last night.

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The kids and I (minus Daughter J., because she was at a friend’s house) had just gotten home from town, had supper, and finished watching The Voice.  We had browsed through some silly TV shows, and somehow or other we got on the topic of Romeo and Juliet.  Now as a former English teacher, I have several variations of R&J in my posession- I have both the DiCaprio-Danes movie version and the Hussey-Whiting version.  I have a side-by-side modern/archaic written version, and I have the Reduced Shakespeare Company (which is absolutely hilarious, btw).  So we decided we’d watch the DiCaprio-Danes movie version of R&J.

*

We hunted around and found the DVD and watched it, and The Boy sat there completely absorbed through the whole thing.  He was totally engaged, hardly asked any questions, which made me assume that he understood it, for the most part.  So it was going well, and I was really impressed with him and amazed and proud of him and thinking it was a great educational moment.  Right up until the end, when they died and he cried his little eyes out.  Ooops.

*

He jumped up out of his chair, saying “That was so sad!” and threw himself on my lap on the couch, and I was starting to feel like a terrible parent for letting him watch it, knowing his dramatic tendencies, and S. and I were laughing and crying at the same time because we felt so bad for him, but he was so upset it was almost funny, which I know makes zero sense.  So I was shushing and comforting him, and then I tried to explain to him how cool it was that he is smart enough to watch and understand and be moved by something that even some of my freshmen weren’t interested in and didn’t get.  We talked about how even though it was sad, that there were some good things to learn, like how being impetuous and hot-headed can get you in a ton of trouble, among others.  We talked about connections to other things he’s seen, like the R&J quotes used in Twilight: New Moon and in the Disney version of Beauty and the Beast.  (When Belle is teaching the Beast to read, she’s using R&J.)

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So after all that, he was really feeling good about himself and he was proud of what he had learned.  Score!  I was somewhat concerned about some of the definitely un-kid-friendly images in the movie, but unfortunately he’s seen almost all of that before in other movies and games.  (He didn’t watch the honeymoon scene last night, btw.)  And today we watched the Reduced Shakespeare Co. version of it, which is a silly, light, humorous stage interpretation, and he said “Thanks for having me watch that!”  So I think it kind of set it all in perspective for him today- that it’s just a story and it can be seen as simple entertainment.

*

So, for better or worse, The Boy has now got a leg up on his future high school peers when it comes to watching R&J in Freshman English.  Overall, I think the experience was more esteem-building than damaging, and if not…well, he’s seeing his counselor today anyway.

*

Until next time,

D.

 

I Was Going to Give This a Different Title, But… February 14, 2011

Antalya ( Turkey ). Toilet seat used as flower...

Image via Wikipedia

Hello all!  … when I was almost finished preparing it for publication, I happened to notice that there were about a dozen other blog entries with similar titles already, so I had to go a different route.  As you (now cannot) can tell from today’s title, (Originally “Valentine, Schmalentine!”) this particular holiday is not my favorite.  That may be a slight understatement.  I HATE Valentine’s day!  It’s not just because I don’t have anyone to be all lovey-dovey-schloopy-mushy with at the moment, and it’s not that I have anything against chocolate.  Or flowers.  Or diamonds.  It’s just that it’s so commercialized.  Just like every other holiday, of course, but still… I think if you’re in a committed relationship where you are so thankful and appreciative and all the other wonderful descriptors they fill greeting cards with, then by golly, you should demonstrate it every single day!  Each and every day, you should express to the people you love exactly how much you love them, and not just with words.  Words are often easy to say and not so easy to MEAN.  Actions speak louder, as they say. 

*

So in other words, you SHOW people how you feel and what they mean to you by what you do for them.  And not just in a ‘look, I’m sending you flowers at work so everybody knows somebody loves you and all the single losers* will get jealous’ kind of way.  It’s little things, like putting the toilet seat down, cleaning out the gutters (ok, that’s pretty big), getting supper started, loading the dishwasher, washing and servicing the car, or whatever. 

*

I have to say here, that if I WERE in a relationship, or married, or whatever, I’m afraid my significant other would probably feel pretty unloved, because all I ever do anymore is read, mess around on the computer, and um… read.  I haven’t been doing a decent job of keeping the house clean or fixing lovely family meals or any of that stuff I’ve been ranting about for a year now.  I always have good intentions.  Oh yes.  I was going to make the whole family work on the garage yesterday.  The Beasties talked me into renting a movie, and my plan was to require that each one of us sort, organize, and empty one box from the garage before we watched the movie.  Well, not only did we NOT work on any boxes from the garage before we watched the stupid movie, we didn’t even work on any AFTER!  Be-cauuuuse… I was busy reading the book I bought from the same place we rented the movie from, and I couldn’t make myself quit reading!  What was this gripping piece of literature, you ask?  Oh, it was The Unofficial Guide to Cruises.  Remember, I’m still obsessed with the whole ‘taking the kids on a cruise’ idea.  Although even that has begun to lose its luster with me.  I’ve been reading too many message boards like CruiseMates and CruiseCritic, and there are a lot of negatives and a lot of complaints and just generally the whole thing sounds like a ridiculously expensive, huge disappointment waiting to happen.  But maybe it’s just my pessimistic nature kicking me in the teeth.  Or, again, perhaps it’s that I’m the Queen of Wishy-Washy.  Or maybe it’s just that I’m realizing the danger inherent in getting my heart set on all the details of something that is almost a year and a half away, and pretending to lose interest in the whole idea is my form of self preservation.  There is sooooo much stuff that could happen between now and then, stuff that interrupts life and turns it on its ear, stuff that makes all our plans go out the window and splat on the sidewalk.

*

Not that I expect anything in particular to happen.  I’m just pessimistic like that.  On a totally new topic, I applied for a new job today.  On a whim, because I saw an opening posted in the store and thought I might be good at it.  It was for a Book Manager at Hastings.  I don’t know whether to hope I get it or not, because on one hand, I’ve been where I am for going on NINE years now.  I’m good at what I do, I’m familiar, I’m comfortable.  Sometimes, though, that might not be a good thing.  I can’t seem to make up my mind about teaching, although I have recently begun to re-entertain the idea of moving to Alaska to teach, like I planned before my short-lived marriage to RMB interrupted my Alaska fantasies. 

*

Anyway.  The only real concern I have with getting a new job right now is with having to tell my brand new employers that I won’t be available for a week in late May/early June because we are going to Disney World.  They might question my commitment to my job.  But I guess they’d understand that these travel plans were made six months before I ever even thought of applying for that job, and if they don’t, The Macs will always take me back.  (The Macs- that’s my new nickname for the family I work for.)

*

So I guess that’s where we are today.  We hate commercialized love-fests, we’re lazy and obsessed with far-away fantasies like cruises and teaching in Alaska, and we’re worried about issues with new jobs we just applied for online, ten minutes ago.  Thank goodness I have therapy tomorrow!

*

Until next time,

D.

*PS- No, being single doesn’t automatically make you a loser, but DUDE!  That’s should totally be a Weird Al song, a parody of Beyonce’s All The Single Ladies, but it should be All the Single Losers!  It’d be a classic!  Al, are you listening!?

AND FINALLY… Happy Valentine’s Day to all my friends, family, devoted readers, and assorted others.  Hope your day is filled with one or more of the many different kinds of love that exist in every moment of every day.

 

30-Days of Truth-ish- Some days are harder than others! October 11, 2010

Filed under: Books! How I Love 'Em!,Mood Swings — DDKlingonGirl @ 10:06 am
Tags: , , ,

Hello all.  3o Days of Truth-ish continues with #2- Something you love about yourself.

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This one’s going to be hard.  Today’s not a “lovin’ myself” kind of day.  Today’s more of a “mentally beating myself down and kicking myself in the guts until I’m a cowering, quivering, begging for mercy mass on the floor” kind of day.  I won’t bore you with all the details, but just take my word on this. 

*

But I’m the one who decided to do this 30 days thing, so I’ll find one thing to be truth-ish-ful about, on the topic of something I love about myself:

I’m a really fast reader.  I can plow through a 3-inch thick novel in a couple of days with uninterrupted reading time and staying up half the night. 

*

So there it is.  One tiny, insignificant, but truthful thing I love about myself.  Today, it’s the best I can do. 

Until next time,

D.

 

On Reading Literature and Writing Life July 20, 2010

Filed under: Books! How I Love 'Em! — DDKlingonGirl @ 9:42 pm

(Retrieved from my Myspace Blog- originally written Thurs. Nov. 12, 2009)

 

Hello again.  Ok, at the insistence of a friend, I was supposed to be reading this great new book, What French Women Know, by Debra Olivier.  Ever obedient, I found it the other day in Hastings, but it was slightly expensive, since it was a new release. I decided I couldn’t afford it. Later I found out someone else I know had bought the book and I could have borrowed it, but was too impatient to wait for her to finish.

So a few days later I decided to just buy the book.  I deserve it, right?  Flawed logic though it may be, I told myself that since I was buying this book and I didn’t know if I would like it, and, to be honest, was reading it as a counselling assignment, I should buy myself a ‘classic’ at the same time.  (See?  I said my logic left something to be desired!)  So I went on over to the classics section and checked out my choices.  Considered Austin, Shakespeare, and a few others, but finally settled on Robinson Crusoe.  And then, for some strange reason, i picked up another particular book, looked at the title, and for some reason thought it was something I ought to know about, and kept it. The book?  The Souls of Black Folk, by W.E.B. Du Bois!!

So I’ve already read the French women book, and I finished Black Folk last night.  Crusoe is next, and I’m actually quite proud of the fact that I’m reading something more intellectually beneficial than Twilight or Harry Potter or Gone With The Wind.  (Not that any of these are anywhere near the same category in literary value, but you get my point.)  Each piece of this eclectic collection of reading materials offers me something different.  The French Women book is relevent to me now.  It’s about the difference in American and French culture with regard to how women see themselves, treat themselves, allow themselves to be treated by others, and live their lives.  It offers a glimpse at a different mindset than the one most American women have, and one which I think has merit in a lot of ways.  One of my counselling assignments for this week is to choose any one of the many concepts from the book and live it for a week. 

The Du Bois book is a chance to see life from a past perspective.  Not a perspective that would have gelled with my own had I lived in that time, but one that would have been completely foreign to me, and still is.  I am ashamed to admit that sometimes when i think of what life in America is like for some people, even today, I haven’t always understood what all the fuss was about.  I didn’t get the sense of ‘other-ness’ that they felt, the sense of always being on the outside, of being marginalized and villified for no other reason than color.  This book helped bring a bit of understanding, a feeling of enlightenment.  I like that. 

And finally, Robinson Crusoe is simply a classic story that will add to my general knowledge and offer a chance to read something new only for escape, which is the main reason I usually read.  Here’s hoping I enjoy it, and that even if I don’t, that I get something from it.

With all this in mind, I now close with one of my most recent poems.  It’s about words and meanings and the different aspects of life.  (Don’t worry- it’s not as deep as it sounds.  Maybe.)  And I encourage all my friends to go out and pick up a new book today, maybe something you wouldn’t normally choose to experience, and expand your mind!  It’s more fun than you think.

____________________

Life Story

Thinking in metaphors-
picking up, blowing the dust off,
sorting through and piecing back together.
Flying, racing, drifting,
Walking.

Existing in verbs-
Survive.  Breathe.  Continue.

Dreaming in abstract nouns-
life.  happiness. contentment.
        joy.  peace.
  confidence. faith.

The language of myself.
   words of me.
To explain.  To illuminate.
    To cry out.
To speak who I am to the world.

DeeAnne Brown- 10/15/09  11:56 pm

Until next time,
D.


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One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

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