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Apr. 3rd, 2003
Oblivion hasn't told me to go to bed in days.
Here's how things normally work...
If she thinks I'm up too late, that it's time for me to get into the bed and cuddle her (she normally spends a bit of time on my chest every night before bed, while I mellow out and ready) she walks back and forth between the bedroom and wherever I am, and meows rather loudly. This process is repeated every few minutes until I get up and go to bed.
She hasn't done this in several days. And I've stayed up far too late. Again.
Here's how things normally work...
If she thinks I'm up too late, that it's time for me to get into the bed and cuddle her (she normally spends a bit of time on my chest every night before bed, while I mellow out and ready) she walks back and forth between the bedroom and wherever I am, and meows rather loudly. This process is repeated every few minutes until I get up and go to bed.
She hasn't done this in several days. And I've stayed up far too late. Again.
Academic question
Apr. 3rd, 2003 01:59 pmSo...mostly for those of you with good access to journal and lit searches...
I'm wondering (after a conversation this morning) if anyone has studied the aging out of professional health educators/youth workers.
The idea here is that people who work with youth and adolescents eventually become "too old" to do it-they lose their legitimacy with the youth they work with. I'm looking for stuff on median age, and on what individuals and agencies do to prepare the educators/workers for this. Also stuff on whether people leave jobs because of burnout, promotions, whatnot, and what kinds of things they go to do after.
(If not, I might have to do it...)
I'm wondering (after a conversation this morning) if anyone has studied the aging out of professional health educators/youth workers.
The idea here is that people who work with youth and adolescents eventually become "too old" to do it-they lose their legitimacy with the youth they work with. I'm looking for stuff on median age, and on what individuals and agencies do to prepare the educators/workers for this. Also stuff on whether people leave jobs because of burnout, promotions, whatnot, and what kinds of things they go to do after.
(If not, I might have to do it...)
(no subject)
Apr. 3rd, 2003 07:00 pmThere's this magnet on my fridge (if you're ever looking for little things to make me happy, fridge magnets are a good choice...I love them. And frogs, and little cute furry mice and stuff.)that says "We do not remember days, we remember moments..."
I think about that sometimes. I don't know if I can remember a whole 24 hour cycle...but I remember lots of pieces. Bits and pieces of wonderful moments...like Landon "kidnapping" me, in the middle of finals, driving into Georgetown, walking accross the Key bridge, spitting off the edge, eating breakfast and giggling and making out. I knew then that I loved him...and that he loved me. I think I also knew then that it wasn't going to work...but it was a beautiful thing and we did share something wonderful. I wish we hadn't lost touch.
I remember moments when I knew how turned on I was by this girl, or that one, and consciously surpressing that thought. I remember Kristy in her Dad's brown cordoroys and blue bikini panties. I remember the shirt she was wearing the day I met her. I remember sneaking out and stealing her Dad's car...and I remember each and every time she ran away.
I remember the first night after I cracked up that I felt good enough to go out by myself, at night, and how I needed to walk for hours and hours, and walked and walked and talked and walked, and walked and watched the sunrise over the Tidal Basin, thinking about the dead fish. And how I realized something about being in control of my own situation.
Good, bad, painful, beautiful. Moments.
It's moments, not whole days...moments I have to appreciate them. And there are a lot of them that I do appreciate. Not just good ones either.
It's this weather...
Spring means forsythia, and dafodils. When the yellow comes out, I feel spring. I haven't seen much forsythia down here, and it makes me sad.
I think about that sometimes. I don't know if I can remember a whole 24 hour cycle...but I remember lots of pieces. Bits and pieces of wonderful moments...like Landon "kidnapping" me, in the middle of finals, driving into Georgetown, walking accross the Key bridge, spitting off the edge, eating breakfast and giggling and making out. I knew then that I loved him...and that he loved me. I think I also knew then that it wasn't going to work...but it was a beautiful thing and we did share something wonderful. I wish we hadn't lost touch.
I remember moments when I knew how turned on I was by this girl, or that one, and consciously surpressing that thought. I remember Kristy in her Dad's brown cordoroys and blue bikini panties. I remember the shirt she was wearing the day I met her. I remember sneaking out and stealing her Dad's car...and I remember each and every time she ran away.
I remember the first night after I cracked up that I felt good enough to go out by myself, at night, and how I needed to walk for hours and hours, and walked and walked and talked and walked, and walked and watched the sunrise over the Tidal Basin, thinking about the dead fish. And how I realized something about being in control of my own situation.
Good, bad, painful, beautiful. Moments.
It's moments, not whole days...moments I have to appreciate them. And there are a lot of them that I do appreciate. Not just good ones either.
It's this weather...
Spring means forsythia, and dafodils. When the yellow comes out, I feel spring. I haven't seen much forsythia down here, and it makes me sad.
(no subject)
Apr. 3rd, 2003 07:19 pmI haven't regaled you with bizarre work conversation in a while...so here's the snippet from today...
(In case you don't know, E.G. is me. E.B. is my coworker with the same first name. Full names were used, but in the interest of whatever, they're not used here.)
(Background...I had a meeting this morning with one of the shelters...after that, I stopped to see the nurse at the Loudoun County JDC who is kind of a friend of mine. She gave me a bunch of materials, including these little flip books called "Proud Pete"-originally published in 1973. They're adorable, and if you're local and haven't seen one, I will try and make sure I have one for you to see.)
A: "E.G. would you please stop playing with 'little dickie'"
E.B.:"It's not 'little dickie,' it's 'Proud Pete.'"
E.G.:" And besides, they're not little if I have anything say about it."
Other conversation....
"It's spring. They're teenagers. Also known as walking hard ons."
(In case you don't know, E.G. is me. E.B. is my coworker with the same first name. Full names were used, but in the interest of whatever, they're not used here.)
(Background...I had a meeting this morning with one of the shelters...after that, I stopped to see the nurse at the Loudoun County JDC who is kind of a friend of mine. She gave me a bunch of materials, including these little flip books called "Proud Pete"-originally published in 1973. They're adorable, and if you're local and haven't seen one, I will try and make sure I have one for you to see.)
A: "E.G. would you please stop playing with 'little dickie'"
E.B.:"It's not 'little dickie,' it's 'Proud Pete.'"
E.G.:" And besides, they're not little if I have anything say about it."
Other conversation....
"It's spring. They're teenagers. Also known as walking hard ons."
I want to ride my bicycle...
Apr. 3rd, 2003 07:30 pmI don't currently own a bicycle. I haven't since high school, which is about ten years ago. But I'd kind of like to again. I tried riding a year or two ago, and really couldn't...I've lost the muscle memory that's about balance.
I e-mailed my Mom asking if she still had her bike; I know she hasn't ridden it in years and years. It's not unthinkable to maybe acquire Mom's bicycle.
The problem is of course that I'm 27 years old and need training wheels. Or at least someone to help me until I re-learn the balance part of bike riding. You know...doing the whole mom running behind the two wheeler and then letting go thing. Just til I learned the balance part. I'd look silly, but it would be really nice to be able to bike to Mt. Vernon or to take advantage of some of the nice bike trails around here.
I e-mailed my Mom asking if she still had her bike; I know she hasn't ridden it in years and years. It's not unthinkable to maybe acquire Mom's bicycle.
The problem is of course that I'm 27 years old and need training wheels. Or at least someone to help me until I re-learn the balance part of bike riding. You know...doing the whole mom running behind the two wheeler and then letting go thing. Just til I learned the balance part. I'd look silly, but it would be really nice to be able to bike to Mt. Vernon or to take advantage of some of the nice bike trails around here.