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When I'm not here, you may find me wandering the pages below. (If I'm a regular visitor to your site and I've left your link off or mislinked to you, please let me know! And likewise, if you've blogrolled me, please check that my link is updated: thisroamanticlife.blogspot.com. The extra (a) makes all the difference!)

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Body: in sickness and in health

I won't lie; this body and I have had our issues with each other for many years. Body image -- sure. Physical and mental overextension -- comes with being a Type A kind of girl. I still struggle with these things, so they show up from time to time in my writing.

More recently, illness, pure but not simple, has added itself to the mix in a multi-system sort of way. And the challenges in figuring out exactly what's gone wrong are many. As problems have revealed themselves in the last few years, beginning with reactive hypoglycemia in late 2008, I've documented them here, partly to gain a little clarity on managing complex conditions but mostly to give voice to vulnerabilities I feel but don't normally share with anyone face to face. Better out than in, they say, right? (Oh yes, humor is one way I deal.)

The links below cover the different angles I've examined (and from which I've been examined) within that experience.

Travel: neither here nor there

When the person you're married to lives two time zones away, you log a fair number of frequent flier miles. And if you blog about commuter relationships, you log quite a few posts en route too.

Since we're no longer in separate places, I blog less often from airports. But we do travel -- together now! -- which is much more fun to write about. So in addition to thoughts on our years of commuting, the links below cover the places we've been as a pair and, in some cases, the adventures that have happened on the way.

Writing: the long and short of it

Why do I do it? Good question. Maybe it's not so much that I like to write but that I have to write, even when the words refuse to stick to the page. Believe me, I've tried doing other things like majoring in biochemistry (freshman fall, many semesters ago). Within a year, I'd switched to English with a concentration in creative writing and wasn't looking back.

After graduating, I taught English for a few years and then worked as an editor, which I still do freelance. In 2007, I applied and got into an MFA program at a place I like to call Little U. on the Prairie. I finished my degree in 2011 and have been balancing tutoring and writing on my own ever since.

The following links cover the writing I've done about writing: process, content, obstacles, you name it. It's not always pretty. But some part of me loves it, even when it's hard. And this is the result.

Heart: family and friends

I'd have a hard time explaining who I am without being able to talk about the family I grew up in as well as the people I've met beyond its bounds. But even with such context, it's not easy! In the simplest terms, I'm a first-generation Asian-American who has spent most of this life caught between cultures. That, of course, doesn't even begin to describe what I mean to, but there's my first stab at the heart of it all.

That's what this group of posts is reserved for -- heart. The essential parts of my life whose influences I carry with me, for better or worse. The links below cover what I've written as I've learned how these forces work within me, for me, against me, in spite of me. They anchor me even as they change me, and they keep life interesting.

Recommended reading

What do I do when there's too much on my mind and my words won't stick to the page? I escape into someone else's thoughts. Below is a collection of books and articles that have been sources of information, inspiration, and occasional insight for my own work.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Expirations

What happens when you go on vacation with a fridge full of fresh fruit?

You get really ripe fruit when you come back. Which is why I am up at this hour making banana-blueberry muffins. Also because D is out of breakfast food (haven't gotten a chance to go to the grocery store yet this week) and the clock on summer is ticking down and I won't get to do this sort of thing for him again until maybe Thanksgiving and I'm not sleepy yet, even though I should be.

I thought I was going to write about my parents' visit, but I think that will have to wait for at least one more day. For the sake of my unfinished syllabus, I may have to do it in installments! Today was a wash in terms of any progress there.

I'm sure the news of Randy Pausch's death has circulated pretty far around the world at this point -- I heard it from D on Saturday as we were pulling out of our neighborhood en route to Vancouver for the weekend. I had had a feeling that Dr. Pausch's condition was deteriorating when no news appeared on his website for more than three weeks after the last post. Of course, while my parents were in town, I couldn't really process the announcement and sort of bracketed it for later. Later happened today.

I watched Dr. Pausch's last lecture on the web during the spring semester at a time when my classes felt like they were getting to be too much to handle and the long-distance routine with D was getting to be emotionally exhausting. I won't say that the lecture's message made me sit up and quit wallowing; rather, it made me extremely aware that I wasn't living a life I loved and that the situation needed to change. There are a number of other factors that shoved me toward that realization as well, but none of them had a face, a spouse, and three children so publicly caught in an hourglass running out of sand.

Various newspapers ran obituaries and related content on Dr. Pausch after the weekend, so in the process of catching up with the headlines, I started skimming some of those articles this morning. Which led to video clips from interviews and recurring images of a man trying to fit all the memory-making moments he could into his remaining months with his family.

I have always feared -- to an unwarranted degree -- that something like this might happen to us. D and I have spent the better part of our dating years and then our marriage having to say goodbye over and over again, sometimes not knowing when we will next get to see each other. I'm sure that this is what has made me particularly fearful that the worst may happen, that we really won't get to see each other again because of some freak accident or that after we are finally together for good, some dreadful illness will take one of us away. Seeing Dr. Pausch and his wife facing that looming final separation in their interviews is heartbreaking, even more so now that he is gone. And some unhealthy part of me can't help morphing the Pausch family's loss into my own runaway imagination's worst-case scenario -- I cried this morning for the Pausches as if it were happening to me too.

I am so bad for myself sometimes.

I guess the anxiety won't completely go away until this long-distance thing is over, but in the interim, it has to be dealt with. One thing Dr. Pausch's wife said in an interview was that whenever the thought of her family's impending loss threatened to derail her, she stopped herself from going there just by saying the words "not helpful" in her mind. Maybe it will work for me -- at least until I can figure out how to cut the fear down to size.

The muffins are out of the oven, and my brain is turning into molasses. Hopefully some happier thoughts tomorrow.

Addendum: Overripe blueberries have no flavor. Just stick with bananas.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Diversions

Hi, blogosphere, I'm still here! I've just been showing my mom and dad around during the last few days and haven't had a moment to get near the internet. A big post to follow on their visit after I get things back in order around here.

For now, a short game for you to entertain yourselves with. The objective: in five minutes, name as many countries of the world as you can (spelling counts). The timer starts as soon as you open the link, so type quickly! And if you're going to play, read the rest of this post afterward (I've provided my answers below the map). Thanks to my little sis (the one who rocked her boards) for passing this one along.


The countries I got (in green):

Andorra, Angola, Argentina, Austria, Belarus, Belize, Bhutan, Brazil, Burma, Cambodia, Canada, Chile, China, Cuba, Czech Republic, Dominican Republic, Egypt, Estonia, Finland, France, Georgia, Germany, Greece, Guyana, Haiti, Honduras, Hungary, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Laos, Latvia, Lesotho, Liberia, Luxembourg, Madagascar, Mali, Mexico, Morocco, Mozambique, Namibia, Nepal, Nicaragua, Nigeria, North Korea, Norway, Pakistan, Panama, Paraguay, Poland, Republic of the Congo, Romania, Russia, Serbia, Sierra Leone, Slovakia, Slovenia, Somalia, South Africa, South Korea, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sudan, Swaziland, Sweden, Trinidad and Tobago, Turkey, Ukraine, United Kingdom, United States, Uruguay, Venezuela, Vietnam, Zimbabwe

The countries I missed (in yellow):

Afghanistan, Albania, Algeria, Antigua and Barbuda, Armenia, Australia, Azerbaijan, Bahamas, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Barbados, Belgium, Benin, Bolivia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Botswana, Brunei, Bulgaria, Burkina Faso, Burundi, Cameroon, Cape Verde, Central African Republic, Chad, Colombia, Comoros, Costa Rica, Cote d'Ivoire, Croatia, Cyprus, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Denmark, Djibouti, Dominica, East Timor, Ecuador, El Salvador, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Federated States of Micronesia, Fiji, Gabon, Gambia, Ghana, Grenada, Guatemala, Guinea-Bissau, Guinea, Iceland, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Jamaica, Jordan, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Kiribati, Kosovo, Kuwait, Kyrgyzstan, Lebanon, Libya, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Macedonia, Malawi, Malaysia, Maldives, Malta, Marshall Islands, Mauritania, Mauritius, Moldova, Monaco, Mongolia, Montenegro, Nauru, Netherlands, New Zealand, Niger, Oman, Palau, Papua New Guinea, Peru, Philippines, Portugal, Qatar, Rwanda, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Samoa, San Marino, Sao Tome and Principe, Saudi Arabia, Senegal, Seychelles, Singapore, Solomon Islands, Suriname, Switzerland, Syria, Taiwan, Tajikistan, Tanzania, Thailand, Togo, Tonga, Tunisia, Turkmenistan, Tuvalu, Uganda, United Arab Emirates, Uzbekistan, Vanuatu, Vatican City, Yemen, Zambia

Total score: 75/195

Better than I expected, given the time limit. As you can see, my geographic brain has become so supersatured with news about the Middle East that it focused all its attention everywhere else in the world. And I would have had Iceland except I hit an extra letter before pressing Enter and then the timer ran out before I could correct the spelling ...

Monday, July 21, 2008

Out of my mind, back in five miles


July is rushing toward August with alarming speed.

This past weekend was the last one just for D and me for the rest of the summer. I can hardly believe it -- but my parents will be here on Wednesday to stay through Monday, then the next two weekends after that will be devoted to out-of-town weddings. And then I go back to Little U. on the Prairie. Let's not think about that anymore for the moment.

I know, I'm still thinking about it.

I've been pretty good at pushing this out of my mind for the last few weeks, but it's getting harder to ignore. Especially since I'm supposed to be putting together a syllabus for my class, and so far, I've read only the two novels I'm going to teach. Which still leaves the poetry, the plays, and the short stories. But I do keep having ideas on how to organize the progression of the course and make discussions interesting, so there are developments happening even if they're not on paper. Sigh.

Yesterday, we went for a hike along a mountain trail that skirts parts of the Snoqualmie River, which was the nicest area we've explored by far -- wide paths with several overlooks and waterfalls. We didn't hike very long because it was late in the day and there seemed to be higher foot traffic than we cared to encounter, but we did stop along various points by the river to take pictures. D tried some slow-shutter photography (see above), which turned out quite well.

I'd like to go back when there are fewer people, maybe on a weeknight before summer ends and definitely some time in the winter when the river might be frozen in the shallows. We discovered a tiny beach where you can wade right in, and a narrow island of sorts extends down the center of the river (more like a sand bar, but it's made up of big rocks and smaller pebbles). A few trees have taken root there, and some giant boulders a little farther upstream just beg to be climbed and sunned upon or imagined as towers of a lost fortress -- Terabithia in the flesh.

As we trekked, I was also reminded of something I first read in one of my favorite books from childhood, A Ring of Endless Light. I'm normally not a huge poetry fan, nor do I practice a particular religion, but this seemed an appropriate description of my state of mind before the hike:

"Indwelling"


If thou couldst empty all thyself of self,
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the Ocean shelf,
And say -- "This is not dead," --
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou,
And hast such shrewd activity,
That, when He comes, He says: -- "This is enow
Unto itself -- ’Twere better let it be:
It is so small and full, there is no room for Me."


~ T.E. Brown

At some point on the trail, I was able to forget August for a while and get completely absorbed in the sensation of putting one foot in front of the other (the path was steep on the way to the falls). Breathing in more deeply to compensate for the effort and catching hints of fir and cedar and chasing the shafts of light from the setting sun as they filtered through the trees let me empty myself of self and be filled with whatever essence was there in the mountain, the air, and the river. I won't go into my position on the question of supreme beings -- that's for another post, if the desire to write it seizes me -- but I will say that the timelessness of that place evokes a sense of the transcendent. And I'd return again and again to be near that, if not to be immersed in it.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Vistas


Two years ago today, D and I were standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower as the sun went down. It was close to the end of our honeymoon, so we had been to a lot of the major landmarks -- Sacré-Coeur, Notre-Dame, l'Arc de Triomphe. Getting to retrace our steps across Paris from that vantage point was a huge treat, if only to see where we had been and to remember the highlights of our week's explorations.

It would be so nice if the future were as neatly framed.

I've blogged a lot about the uncertainty of my plans for life after graduate school. And I realize that I chose that uncertainty to some degree -- I walked away from my plan to become a doctor when I decided after my first year of college that being a science major wasn't my passion even if the subject matter was fascinating. There are moments when I wish I had the structure of that career path still -- the firmly delineated prerequisite courses, the clear-cut certification ladder, the guarantee that at some point you will get to a good place in the pecking order. Academia doesn't offer that same sort of standardized guided ascent (the paths on one side of the mountain may be marked in one way while the paths on the other side might be marked in another). Which leads to widely different requirements for securing a "good" place at an institution, depending on which trailhead you choose. In some cases, the paths that look like they lead to the top are washed out by landslides of work that prevent you from making real headway toward the summit. In many ways, other career paths are similar. I wish I had known this when I left my plans for medical school behind.

I know, however, that the path to becoming a doctor wasn't one I wanted to negotiate. Watching my younger sister bushwhacking her way through her first two years of medical school has repeatedly left me certain of that. There are few trails that branch off the main one leading to an M.D. (whereas in academia, you can jump from one path to another -- gaining little vertical progress but still accomplishing lateral movement). Which means you cannot fail at any of the junctures where you have to prove you are fit to continue upward.

Today, my sister got her board exam scores back, and she passed. I am so incredibly proud of her.

There will be more certification exams before she finishes, but this was the first big hurdle (the culmination of two intensive years of cramming tons of knowledge into her head). And she totally cleared it! I've got to come up with a handle for her on this blog that reflects that. Can I call you Dr. Sis? Or does that have to wait till you're a resident?

In any case, I'm thrilled and relieved. And wondering if I'll ever see the top of a mountain myself.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Claro que sí

And now, as promised, a post on the wedding!

It was a sweet coincidence that this one happened to fall only a few days before the anniversary of our own. Last year, we were in the middle of getting ready to move out of temporary housing in Seattle and also just getting back from a different wedding (sans extended vacation), so our anniversary sort of sneaked up on us. We celebrated, of course, but it felt a little fly-by. This time, everything was much more relaxed, and the wedding was the perfect event to remind us of how we felt when it was our turn -- not to mention a great lead-in to a second honeymoon of sorts.

The wedding was entirely in Spanish, which I don't speak, but the similarities to French helped me understand more of the ceremony text than I expected to. The rhythm of the language made the service especially beautiful too -- but nothing could compete with the groom's smile when he saw his bride as she entered the church and the demure, trusting look in her eyes as they gave their vows. There was a calmness that I haven't seen between many couples in that moment -- usually there's a hint of nervousness on somebody's face -- and there was certainty. That steady, relaxed vibe set the mood for the rest of the evening.

The happiness at the reception was contagious -- parents, siblings, and family friends all mixing and laughing and dancing. The Seattle contingent shared one table with a few other people in the under-30 age group. After dinner, the men (and some of the women!) went outside to the courtyard to smoke cigars -- there was a person rolling them near the bar -- and this being a true Cuban party, we joined the groom to toast(?) him. D and his officemates are not smokers, so this was like watching high schoolers learning how to take a puff for the first time (yes, there was choking and coughing and eyes watering profusely). But as more seasoned cigar aficionados explained to us, you don't have to inhale; you just draw the smoke into your mouth for the flavor, then blow it out. The things I never thought I would learn ...

In the end, the men did all right, though during our dinner in Little Havana on the next night, they admitted to waking up with a horrible taste in their mouths. I have a feeling tobacco won't be habit forming with this crowd!

D and I got a few dances in during the evening, which I was quite proud of. D and I have never done any Latin dancing, so we had to make it up as we went. But we actually fit right in (no collisions, falls, or lost toes). I give D the credit for being a good lead -- our waltz lessons for our own wedding were invaluable.

I know I like to think of myself as fairly independent-minded and self-sufficient, but there are moments when being taken care of is a really good feeling. I think this vacation was a chance for D to do that (D's having lived briefly in Miami made him able to navigate the area with more assuredness than most tourists have, with access to insider knowledge on what was worth seeing), and just letting him lead was very comfortable. It's an adjustment after nearly a year apart, but it's something I'm learning to make room for in our dynamic. I worry sometimes that I will lose some aspect of my self-sufficiency, but in reality, there is no power struggle. He simply opens some of the harder-to-clear paths that I might otherwise have more trouble exploring on my own. I just hope that I do enough of the same for him.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Flora, fauna and hairy weather

All right, I'm really back from vacation now. It's nice to be home! I had intended to blog while we were in Miami, but there was a charge for in-room internet at our hotel. I took it as a sign that I should make our trip a true escape and enjoy being unplugged. Which I did. But it's good to be writing again. Since the semester's end, I haven't mustered up the will to attempt any more formal stuff (i.e., those intimidating things called essays that I compose in Word), so this blog is sort of a reassurance that I'm at least keeping my thinking going, if not the reflecting. For me, half the effort required to get an essay started is finding ideas that actually go somewhere.

Miami gave us a beneficial change of scene -- getting to see a city with such a different feel from ours made it a real getaway for us -- and the trip was just long enough not to feel rushed but short enough that we were ready to be home again only when it was time to leave. We managed to explore a good portion of the area too, so every day had new things to offer.

On our first day, we toured the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden, which introduced us to some pretty unique plant and animal life. The grounds house all kinds of palms, numerous fruit-bearing plants, and gorgeous flowering trees. The pineapples were especially cute ...


... and the jackfruits were enormous. These are apparently the largest tree-borne fruits in the world.


There is also an orchid sanctuary ornamented with glass sculptures by Dale Chihuly, whose origins and artistic influence in the Pacific Northwest have made his name familiar to us since our move. It was a fun surprise to see his work as we entered the greenhouse.


But the orchids, of course, were the stars of the show.





My favorite part of the gardens was the cactus grove. We got caught in a brief downpour in that area, so we got to linger a little longer (under an umbrella) by these unusual specimens, some of them from as far away as Madagascar. In the post-storm half-light, they had an austere, sculpture-like beauty that I was especially drawn to.




After the rain subsided (showers tend to be frequent but brief), we chased some iguanas and other lizards. D managed to catch a few on camera, which was impressive. They're speedy! And they run with a rather bizarre gait -- a cross between scrabbling and rowing with their stumpy legs. Effective, albeit strange.



The most curious creatures by far, though, were the tiny crab spiders. In general, I don't like to be anywhere near arachnids, but these don't look anything like your usual eight-legged creepy crawlies. They are -- dare I say it -- kind of cute. If I had seen these on a beach, I would definitely have pegged them as crabs first. Their webs were the only giveaway in the garden.



After Fairchild, we went back to our hotel to get ready for the wedding, which was beautiful and very much deserves its own post. So stay tuned for that later! All I'll say for now is that the bride and groom know how to throw a terrific party.

On our second day, we went to Crandon Park Beach on Key Biscayne, which was recommended to us as a less crowded piece of the coast with nice changing facilities to boot -- hooray for insider tips! It was overcast, which made it very comfortable (no burning hot sand or blistering glare on the ocean). The water was cloudy, though, so we couldn't see much on the bottom (I was hoping to). We guessed it was a product of all the grass and seaweed growing there. We stayed in deeper water to avoid stepping on it -- not a pleasant feeling on the soles of your feet!

Just as we decided to go back to our car to eat lunch, the clouds opened and a huge thunderstorm broke (talk about lucky timing!). We headed for the Seaquarium a few minutes down the road. The biggest attractions there were the numerous animal shows -- dolphins and killer whales doing tricks while their trainers provided some basic facts about their diet, anatomy, and behavior. The weather thinned out the crowds, so we had better seats than we would have gotten otherwise. The experience was interesting, but after a bit, the performances seemed repetitive from one arena to the next. Definitely not worth $36 plus $8 for parking. Part of me also began to feel a little sad that the animals were trotted out day after day to do these routines. The Seaquarium does have a program that allows you to swim with the dolphins, which would have been really amazing (and a lot more interactive for all parties involved), but that would have required an additional hefty charge as well as reservations long in advance. Perhaps another time -- like when we have kids.

We hit Little Havana for dinner, which was very casual and a great chance to go out with D's officemates who were also in town for the wedding. There was much hilarity (largely continued from the previous evening), and I got to know yet another of D's friends whom we hadn't seen at any of the previous get-togethers at home. Plans are in the works for another dinner in Seattle before I take off again.

On our third and final day, we went to the Venetian Pool in Coral Gables, which was originally a limestone quarry that was converted to a luxury swimming hole. The pool is fed by an aquifer and features gentle waterfalls and (small) caves you can swim through. Very tranquil -- except for the seven summer day camps that brought their kids (by charter coach, no less!). Fortunately, the pool was enormous, so there was plenty of room for everyone. Quite the popular destination ...

For our last evening, D and I dressed up and went to South Beach, where we had dinner at a place called da Leo Trattoria. Simple Italian fare, done marvelously. I had linguine with clams in a white sauce (butter, garlic, clam juice) that beats any I've ever tasted. We also had a treat for the eyes after our meal -- up the street was a Peter Lik photo gallery. We had never seen any of Lik's work before, but as amateur photographers ourselves, we were immediately interested when we stumbled across the boutique (apparently he has several across the country and in his native Australia). The images on display were what is called landscape fine art -- and so beautiful and intensely colored that they looked nearly unreal. We wondered if they had been digitally manipulated, especially some of the panoramic shots that could have been assembled from several photos, but the curator on the premises told us that Lik uses real film, nothing more. Not sure we believe that entirely, given his evasive answers to questions about his methods (per interviews on his website). I'm not sure I prefer his style of photography for every part of nature either (too perfect, perhaps, for some aspects of it -- nature does have its darker side). But there is a distinct joyous quality to his work that I do appreciate.

And that, in a really big nutshell, was our trip! Wow, that was a lot to blog. Consider me officially back online. More on the wedding itself in the near future.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Two years

We're back from the Sunshine State! We had a lovely vacation in Miami, which I will blog about over the next day or so, but this post (brief as it is) shall be devoted primarily to today's milestone: our second wedding anniversary.

It is extremely hard to believe that we have been married for only two years -- because we've known each other for so much longer. At the same time, it's even harder to believe two years have already gone by. Crazy.

We deliberately came back yesterday so we could enjoy today together without spending most of it in airports (traveling for nine hours wasn't exactly how we wanted to celebrate). It was very nice to wake up at home again without any need to be anywhere. Though we certainly did some traveling this morning. Shortly before our trip, we managed to acquire a used bike for me (yay for Craigslist!). What better day than today to give it an inaugural ride, we thought. So we made our way to one of the trailheads in our area and took off.

The path was actually a former railroad line, and it still has some of its original trestle bridges. In general, the grade was pretty gentle, so we were able to talk comfortably as we rode side by side, taking in the sights, including a pick-your-own produce farm as well as a campground. In fact, we were so engrossed by the views that we didn't realize how far we had biked! In total, we logged a round trip of about 22 miles. Not bad for a first ride after many years' hiatus from riding at all. But I'm pretty sure I'm going to feel it tomorrow ...

I want to say something reflective and sentimental here, but our anniversary isn't over yet and we have lots of things planned for our last day of vacation. So the deeper thoughts will have to wait -- we are off to see WALL-E, and then we'll have dinner on the waterfront. More news soon, I promise!

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Regrouping

The heat has washed away at last. We woke up this morning to the darkest sky we've seen in a month (by 5 a.m., the summer sun is usually bright enough to look like it does at 8 because we're so far north), and it has rained buckets in the last few hours. Since the heat wave started, I've had the screen door and all our windows open with fans going and makeshift curtains pinned up over some of the panes to keep the temperature down inside, but today, the air is back to normal: fresh, light, and cool. It's quite peaceful with the mist coming over the mountains behind us, veiling the tops of the pines, and the spray from the rain blowing off the roof in sheets. It rarely ever pours like this -- steady showers are as heavy as it normally gets.

I've wanted to write for the last day and a half, but I've been too stirred up by the events in that time to put my thoughts down in a semi-organized fashion. All the tumult (or "feeling," as D would point out with an amused but sympathetic nod -- the results of my personality test have apparently opened a new window for him into understanding why I am the way I am) has finally dissipated, and I'm left just feeling anxiously pensive.

On Tuesday, D and I had a long, unexpected conversation about what I'm going to do after I finish my degree. I know, I know; I said earlier that I was fine with not having the Plan figured out, but I've also been thinking about said Plan at some point every day. So even though we fell onto the subject almost accidentally, it was probably waiting to come up.

Some background:

Initially, I had planned on searching for a job teaching writing at a university, but a very brief chat at the beginning of the school year with my academic advisor sort of crushed that idea. "You'll need a Ph.D.," Advisor said. "That way, you can increase your chances of getting a tenure-track position when you get out on the market. You don't want to adjunct -- it's essentially a dead-end job because you won't have enough time to focus on your own work and you'll get huge teaching loads and you'll just get mired down."

Well, that wasn't what I expected to hear.

Of course, Advisor's advice wasn't the only advice I intended to use to evaluate whether my original plan needed to be modified or scrapped. So I've been reading up on the market, perusing a few very helpful blogs, and really mulling over whether I want to take on the challenges that are consistently mentioned across the board from various sources. I won't go into all that in detail right now; let's just say the structure of academia is changing because of many different pressures that are leaving fewer jobs and less funding available while exerting greater demands on faculty. Also, my degree used to be the terminal degree in my field, but that has changed with the advent of the Ph.D. for said field. The rapid growth of low-residency programs for my degree have further depreciated the value of my degree on the market as well. So, if it's available to me at all, the ideal position -- working intensively with small groups of students in seminar to nurture their personal writing -- comes with many more responsibilities than I had considered (including teaching hefty course loads probably tangential to my field), whether I put in another four or five years on a Ph.D. or not. And then there's the very likely possibility of having to uproot D and drag him off to a place where he very likely will not have job opportunities as excellent as what he has here, whether we move so I can attend a Ph.D. program or take a teaching job. We've agreed wholeheartedly that we do not want to commute any longer after this round, and D's career is finally taking off. So it seems that my job plans will only disrupt that. It will be more practical for me to pursue something else, especially since it will bring us closer to having the life we've wanted for so long -- to be settled in a city we like, to be ready to raise a family.

But what will that something else be? (And should I be concerned that as I'm writing this, it has suddenly started hailing here? Don't tell me it's a sign ...)

The possibilities for that something else were the subject of my conversation with D. We sat in our darkening living room as the sun retreated, talking about how frustrating it was not to finish what you had thought you'd started -- projects, career paths -- and the fear that it was just something inherent to your own personality that was getting in the way, not the circumstances themselves. D has been in that position in his own job search, so he truly understands the position I'm now in. Not that either of us feel I should not finish my degree -- the experience in the program is invaluable and certainly worth the time and effort for my own personal growth as a writer. But where do I go afterward?

I think I'm afraid to pick a direction because I've abandoned the last few paths I've started along. Well, perhaps "abandoned" is too strong here -- I've learned from each position, and that has enabled me to move to the next path (or maybe the next fork in one continuous web of paths) because of transferable skills and increased experience. I guess I just want all the career hopping to end and to find something I have a true passion for with a location and work hours that will allow me not to be an absentee wife and mother. Is that too much to ask? I know this might sound like I just don't want to work, but that's really not the case.

What we did figure out Tuesday night is that we both want me to take the time to make a good choice for me. The last few job choices have been motivated by deadlines over which we had little control. This time, we have a little more flexibility -- even as much as a year after I graduate (kind of an arbitrary limit, but we do want to be a two-income household before we have children). For that luxury, I'm enormously grateful.

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Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Expirations

What happens when you go on vacation with a fridge full of fresh fruit?

You get really ripe fruit when you come back. Which is why I am up at this hour making banana-blueberry muffins. Also because D is out of breakfast food (haven't gotten a chance to go to the grocery store yet this week) and the clock on summer is ticking down and I won't get to do this sort of thing for him again until maybe Thanksgiving and I'm not sleepy yet, even though I should be.

I thought I was going to write about my parents' visit, but I think that will have to wait for at least one more day. For the sake of my unfinished syllabus, I may have to do it in installments! Today was a wash in terms of any progress there.

I'm sure the news of Randy Pausch's death has circulated pretty far around the world at this point -- I heard it from D on Saturday as we were pulling out of our neighborhood en route to Vancouver for the weekend. I had had a feeling that Dr. Pausch's condition was deteriorating when no news appeared on his website for more than three weeks after the last post. Of course, while my parents were in town, I couldn't really process the announcement and sort of bracketed it for later. Later happened today.

I watched Dr. Pausch's last lecture on the web during the spring semester at a time when my classes felt like they were getting to be too much to handle and the long-distance routine with D was getting to be emotionally exhausting. I won't say that the lecture's message made me sit up and quit wallowing; rather, it made me extremely aware that I wasn't living a life I loved and that the situation needed to change. There are a number of other factors that shoved me toward that realization as well, but none of them had a face, a spouse, and three children so publicly caught in an hourglass running out of sand.

Various newspapers ran obituaries and related content on Dr. Pausch after the weekend, so in the process of catching up with the headlines, I started skimming some of those articles this morning. Which led to video clips from interviews and recurring images of a man trying to fit all the memory-making moments he could into his remaining months with his family.

I have always feared -- to an unwarranted degree -- that something like this might happen to us. D and I have spent the better part of our dating years and then our marriage having to say goodbye over and over again, sometimes not knowing when we will next get to see each other. I'm sure that this is what has made me particularly fearful that the worst may happen, that we really won't get to see each other again because of some freak accident or that after we are finally together for good, some dreadful illness will take one of us away. Seeing Dr. Pausch and his wife facing that looming final separation in their interviews is heartbreaking, even more so now that he is gone. And some unhealthy part of me can't help morphing the Pausch family's loss into my own runaway imagination's worst-case scenario -- I cried this morning for the Pausches as if it were happening to me too.

I am so bad for myself sometimes.

I guess the anxiety won't completely go away until this long-distance thing is over, but in the interim, it has to be dealt with. One thing Dr. Pausch's wife said in an interview was that whenever the thought of her family's impending loss threatened to derail her, she stopped herself from going there just by saying the words "not helpful" in her mind. Maybe it will work for me -- at least until I can figure out how to cut the fear down to size.

The muffins are out of the oven, and my brain is turning into molasses. Hopefully some happier thoughts tomorrow.

Addendum: Overripe blueberries have no flavor. Just stick with bananas.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Diversions

Hi, blogosphere, I'm still here! I've just been showing my mom and dad around during the last few days and haven't had a moment to get near the internet. A big post to follow on their visit after I get things back in order around here.

For now, a short game for you to entertain yourselves with. The objective: in five minutes, name as many countries of the world as you can (spelling counts). The timer starts as soon as you open the link, so type quickly! And if you're going to play, read the rest of this post afterward (I've provided my answers below the map). Thanks to my little sis (the one who rocked her boards) for passing this one along.


The countries I got (in green):

Andorra, Angola, Argentina, Austria, Belarus, Belize, Bhutan, Brazil, Burma, Cambodia, Canada, Chile, China, Cuba, Czech Republic, Dominican Republic, Egypt, Estonia, Finland, France, Georgia, Germany, Greece, Guyana, Haiti, Honduras, Hungary, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Laos, Latvia, Lesotho, Liberia, Luxembourg, Madagascar, Mali, Mexico, Morocco, Mozambique, Namibia, Nepal, Nicaragua, Nigeria, North Korea, Norway, Pakistan, Panama, Paraguay, Poland, Republic of the Congo, Romania, Russia, Serbia, Sierra Leone, Slovakia, Slovenia, Somalia, South Africa, South Korea, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sudan, Swaziland, Sweden, Trinidad and Tobago, Turkey, Ukraine, United Kingdom, United States, Uruguay, Venezuela, Vietnam, Zimbabwe

The countries I missed (in yellow):

Afghanistan, Albania, Algeria, Antigua and Barbuda, Armenia, Australia, Azerbaijan, Bahamas, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Barbados, Belgium, Benin, Bolivia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Botswana, Brunei, Bulgaria, Burkina Faso, Burundi, Cameroon, Cape Verde, Central African Republic, Chad, Colombia, Comoros, Costa Rica, Cote d'Ivoire, Croatia, Cyprus, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Denmark, Djibouti, Dominica, East Timor, Ecuador, El Salvador, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Federated States of Micronesia, Fiji, Gabon, Gambia, Ghana, Grenada, Guatemala, Guinea-Bissau, Guinea, Iceland, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Jamaica, Jordan, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Kiribati, Kosovo, Kuwait, Kyrgyzstan, Lebanon, Libya, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Macedonia, Malawi, Malaysia, Maldives, Malta, Marshall Islands, Mauritania, Mauritius, Moldova, Monaco, Mongolia, Montenegro, Nauru, Netherlands, New Zealand, Niger, Oman, Palau, Papua New Guinea, Peru, Philippines, Portugal, Qatar, Rwanda, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Samoa, San Marino, Sao Tome and Principe, Saudi Arabia, Senegal, Seychelles, Singapore, Solomon Islands, Suriname, Switzerland, Syria, Taiwan, Tajikistan, Tanzania, Thailand, Togo, Tonga, Tunisia, Turkmenistan, Tuvalu, Uganda, United Arab Emirates, Uzbekistan, Vanuatu, Vatican City, Yemen, Zambia

Total score: 75/195

Better than I expected, given the time limit. As you can see, my geographic brain has become so supersatured with news about the Middle East that it focused all its attention everywhere else in the world. And I would have had Iceland except I hit an extra letter before pressing Enter and then the timer ran out before I could correct the spelling ...

Monday, July 21, 2008

Out of my mind, back in five miles


July is rushing toward August with alarming speed.

This past weekend was the last one just for D and me for the rest of the summer. I can hardly believe it -- but my parents will be here on Wednesday to stay through Monday, then the next two weekends after that will be devoted to out-of-town weddings. And then I go back to Little U. on the Prairie. Let's not think about that anymore for the moment.

I know, I'm still thinking about it.

I've been pretty good at pushing this out of my mind for the last few weeks, but it's getting harder to ignore. Especially since I'm supposed to be putting together a syllabus for my class, and so far, I've read only the two novels I'm going to teach. Which still leaves the poetry, the plays, and the short stories. But I do keep having ideas on how to organize the progression of the course and make discussions interesting, so there are developments happening even if they're not on paper. Sigh.

Yesterday, we went for a hike along a mountain trail that skirts parts of the Snoqualmie River, which was the nicest area we've explored by far -- wide paths with several overlooks and waterfalls. We didn't hike very long because it was late in the day and there seemed to be higher foot traffic than we cared to encounter, but we did stop along various points by the river to take pictures. D tried some slow-shutter photography (see above), which turned out quite well.

I'd like to go back when there are fewer people, maybe on a weeknight before summer ends and definitely some time in the winter when the river might be frozen in the shallows. We discovered a tiny beach where you can wade right in, and a narrow island of sorts extends down the center of the river (more like a sand bar, but it's made up of big rocks and smaller pebbles). A few trees have taken root there, and some giant boulders a little farther upstream just beg to be climbed and sunned upon or imagined as towers of a lost fortress -- Terabithia in the flesh.

As we trekked, I was also reminded of something I first read in one of my favorite books from childhood, A Ring of Endless Light. I'm normally not a huge poetry fan, nor do I practice a particular religion, but this seemed an appropriate description of my state of mind before the hike:

"Indwelling"


If thou couldst empty all thyself of self,
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the Ocean shelf,
And say -- "This is not dead," --
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou,
And hast such shrewd activity,
That, when He comes, He says: -- "This is enow
Unto itself -- ’Twere better let it be:
It is so small and full, there is no room for Me."


~ T.E. Brown

At some point on the trail, I was able to forget August for a while and get completely absorbed in the sensation of putting one foot in front of the other (the path was steep on the way to the falls). Breathing in more deeply to compensate for the effort and catching hints of fir and cedar and chasing the shafts of light from the setting sun as they filtered through the trees let me empty myself of self and be filled with whatever essence was there in the mountain, the air, and the river. I won't go into my position on the question of supreme beings -- that's for another post, if the desire to write it seizes me -- but I will say that the timelessness of that place evokes a sense of the transcendent. And I'd return again and again to be near that, if not to be immersed in it.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Vistas


Two years ago today, D and I were standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower as the sun went down. It was close to the end of our honeymoon, so we had been to a lot of the major landmarks -- Sacré-Coeur, Notre-Dame, l'Arc de Triomphe. Getting to retrace our steps across Paris from that vantage point was a huge treat, if only to see where we had been and to remember the highlights of our week's explorations.

It would be so nice if the future were as neatly framed.

I've blogged a lot about the uncertainty of my plans for life after graduate school. And I realize that I chose that uncertainty to some degree -- I walked away from my plan to become a doctor when I decided after my first year of college that being a science major wasn't my passion even if the subject matter was fascinating. There are moments when I wish I had the structure of that career path still -- the firmly delineated prerequisite courses, the clear-cut certification ladder, the guarantee that at some point you will get to a good place in the pecking order. Academia doesn't offer that same sort of standardized guided ascent (the paths on one side of the mountain may be marked in one way while the paths on the other side might be marked in another). Which leads to widely different requirements for securing a "good" place at an institution, depending on which trailhead you choose. In some cases, the paths that look like they lead to the top are washed out by landslides of work that prevent you from making real headway toward the summit. In many ways, other career paths are similar. I wish I had known this when I left my plans for medical school behind.

I know, however, that the path to becoming a doctor wasn't one I wanted to negotiate. Watching my younger sister bushwhacking her way through her first two years of medical school has repeatedly left me certain of that. There are few trails that branch off the main one leading to an M.D. (whereas in academia, you can jump from one path to another -- gaining little vertical progress but still accomplishing lateral movement). Which means you cannot fail at any of the junctures where you have to prove you are fit to continue upward.

Today, my sister got her board exam scores back, and she passed. I am so incredibly proud of her.

There will be more certification exams before she finishes, but this was the first big hurdle (the culmination of two intensive years of cramming tons of knowledge into her head). And she totally cleared it! I've got to come up with a handle for her on this blog that reflects that. Can I call you Dr. Sis? Or does that have to wait till you're a resident?

In any case, I'm thrilled and relieved. And wondering if I'll ever see the top of a mountain myself.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Claro que sí

And now, as promised, a post on the wedding!

It was a sweet coincidence that this one happened to fall only a few days before the anniversary of our own. Last year, we were in the middle of getting ready to move out of temporary housing in Seattle and also just getting back from a different wedding (sans extended vacation), so our anniversary sort of sneaked up on us. We celebrated, of course, but it felt a little fly-by. This time, everything was much more relaxed, and the wedding was the perfect event to remind us of how we felt when it was our turn -- not to mention a great lead-in to a second honeymoon of sorts.

The wedding was entirely in Spanish, which I don't speak, but the similarities to French helped me understand more of the ceremony text than I expected to. The rhythm of the language made the service especially beautiful too -- but nothing could compete with the groom's smile when he saw his bride as she entered the church and the demure, trusting look in her eyes as they gave their vows. There was a calmness that I haven't seen between many couples in that moment -- usually there's a hint of nervousness on somebody's face -- and there was certainty. That steady, relaxed vibe set the mood for the rest of the evening.

The happiness at the reception was contagious -- parents, siblings, and family friends all mixing and laughing and dancing. The Seattle contingent shared one table with a few other people in the under-30 age group. After dinner, the men (and some of the women!) went outside to the courtyard to smoke cigars -- there was a person rolling them near the bar -- and this being a true Cuban party, we joined the groom to toast(?) him. D and his officemates are not smokers, so this was like watching high schoolers learning how to take a puff for the first time (yes, there was choking and coughing and eyes watering profusely). But as more seasoned cigar aficionados explained to us, you don't have to inhale; you just draw the smoke into your mouth for the flavor, then blow it out. The things I never thought I would learn ...

In the end, the men did all right, though during our dinner in Little Havana on the next night, they admitted to waking up with a horrible taste in their mouths. I have a feeling tobacco won't be habit forming with this crowd!

D and I got a few dances in during the evening, which I was quite proud of. D and I have never done any Latin dancing, so we had to make it up as we went. But we actually fit right in (no collisions, falls, or lost toes). I give D the credit for being a good lead -- our waltz lessons for our own wedding were invaluable.

I know I like to think of myself as fairly independent-minded and self-sufficient, but there are moments when being taken care of is a really good feeling. I think this vacation was a chance for D to do that (D's having lived briefly in Miami made him able to navigate the area with more assuredness than most tourists have, with access to insider knowledge on what was worth seeing), and just letting him lead was very comfortable. It's an adjustment after nearly a year apart, but it's something I'm learning to make room for in our dynamic. I worry sometimes that I will lose some aspect of my self-sufficiency, but in reality, there is no power struggle. He simply opens some of the harder-to-clear paths that I might otherwise have more trouble exploring on my own. I just hope that I do enough of the same for him.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Flora, fauna and hairy weather

All right, I'm really back from vacation now. It's nice to be home! I had intended to blog while we were in Miami, but there was a charge for in-room internet at our hotel. I took it as a sign that I should make our trip a true escape and enjoy being unplugged. Which I did. But it's good to be writing again. Since the semester's end, I haven't mustered up the will to attempt any more formal stuff (i.e., those intimidating things called essays that I compose in Word), so this blog is sort of a reassurance that I'm at least keeping my thinking going, if not the reflecting. For me, half the effort required to get an essay started is finding ideas that actually go somewhere.

Miami gave us a beneficial change of scene -- getting to see a city with such a different feel from ours made it a real getaway for us -- and the trip was just long enough not to feel rushed but short enough that we were ready to be home again only when it was time to leave. We managed to explore a good portion of the area too, so every day had new things to offer.

On our first day, we toured the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden, which introduced us to some pretty unique plant and animal life. The grounds house all kinds of palms, numerous fruit-bearing plants, and gorgeous flowering trees. The pineapples were especially cute ...


... and the jackfruits were enormous. These are apparently the largest tree-borne fruits in the world.


There is also an orchid sanctuary ornamented with glass sculptures by Dale Chihuly, whose origins and artistic influence in the Pacific Northwest have made his name familiar to us since our move. It was a fun surprise to see his work as we entered the greenhouse.


But the orchids, of course, were the stars of the show.





My favorite part of the gardens was the cactus grove. We got caught in a brief downpour in that area, so we got to linger a little longer (under an umbrella) by these unusual specimens, some of them from as far away as Madagascar. In the post-storm half-light, they had an austere, sculpture-like beauty that I was especially drawn to.




After the rain subsided (showers tend to be frequent but brief), we chased some iguanas and other lizards. D managed to catch a few on camera, which was impressive. They're speedy! And they run with a rather bizarre gait -- a cross between scrabbling and rowing with their stumpy legs. Effective, albeit strange.



The most curious creatures by far, though, were the tiny crab spiders. In general, I don't like to be anywhere near arachnids, but these don't look anything like your usual eight-legged creepy crawlies. They are -- dare I say it -- kind of cute. If I had seen these on a beach, I would definitely have pegged them as crabs first. Their webs were the only giveaway in the garden.



After Fairchild, we went back to our hotel to get ready for the wedding, which was beautiful and very much deserves its own post. So stay tuned for that later! All I'll say for now is that the bride and groom know how to throw a terrific party.

On our second day, we went to Crandon Park Beach on Key Biscayne, which was recommended to us as a less crowded piece of the coast with nice changing facilities to boot -- hooray for insider tips! It was overcast, which made it very comfortable (no burning hot sand or blistering glare on the ocean). The water was cloudy, though, so we couldn't see much on the bottom (I was hoping to). We guessed it was a product of all the grass and seaweed growing there. We stayed in deeper water to avoid stepping on it -- not a pleasant feeling on the soles of your feet!

Just as we decided to go back to our car to eat lunch, the clouds opened and a huge thunderstorm broke (talk about lucky timing!). We headed for the Seaquarium a few minutes down the road. The biggest attractions there were the numerous animal shows -- dolphins and killer whales doing tricks while their trainers provided some basic facts about their diet, anatomy, and behavior. The weather thinned out the crowds, so we had better seats than we would have gotten otherwise. The experience was interesting, but after a bit, the performances seemed repetitive from one arena to the next. Definitely not worth $36 plus $8 for parking. Part of me also began to feel a little sad that the animals were trotted out day after day to do these routines. The Seaquarium does have a program that allows you to swim with the dolphins, which would have been really amazing (and a lot more interactive for all parties involved), but that would have required an additional hefty charge as well as reservations long in advance. Perhaps another time -- like when we have kids.

We hit Little Havana for dinner, which was very casual and a great chance to go out with D's officemates who were also in town for the wedding. There was much hilarity (largely continued from the previous evening), and I got to know yet another of D's friends whom we hadn't seen at any of the previous get-togethers at home. Plans are in the works for another dinner in Seattle before I take off again.

On our third and final day, we went to the Venetian Pool in Coral Gables, which was originally a limestone quarry that was converted to a luxury swimming hole. The pool is fed by an aquifer and features gentle waterfalls and (small) caves you can swim through. Very tranquil -- except for the seven summer day camps that brought their kids (by charter coach, no less!). Fortunately, the pool was enormous, so there was plenty of room for everyone. Quite the popular destination ...

For our last evening, D and I dressed up and went to South Beach, where we had dinner at a place called da Leo Trattoria. Simple Italian fare, done marvelously. I had linguine with clams in a white sauce (butter, garlic, clam juice) that beats any I've ever tasted. We also had a treat for the eyes after our meal -- up the street was a Peter Lik photo gallery. We had never seen any of Lik's work before, but as amateur photographers ourselves, we were immediately interested when we stumbled across the boutique (apparently he has several across the country and in his native Australia). The images on display were what is called landscape fine art -- and so beautiful and intensely colored that they looked nearly unreal. We wondered if they had been digitally manipulated, especially some of the panoramic shots that could have been assembled from several photos, but the curator on the premises told us that Lik uses real film, nothing more. Not sure we believe that entirely, given his evasive answers to questions about his methods (per interviews on his website). I'm not sure I prefer his style of photography for every part of nature either (too perfect, perhaps, for some aspects of it -- nature does have its darker side). But there is a distinct joyous quality to his work that I do appreciate.

And that, in a really big nutshell, was our trip! Wow, that was a lot to blog. Consider me officially back online. More on the wedding itself in the near future.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Two years

We're back from the Sunshine State! We had a lovely vacation in Miami, which I will blog about over the next day or so, but this post (brief as it is) shall be devoted primarily to today's milestone: our second wedding anniversary.

It is extremely hard to believe that we have been married for only two years -- because we've known each other for so much longer. At the same time, it's even harder to believe two years have already gone by. Crazy.

We deliberately came back yesterday so we could enjoy today together without spending most of it in airports (traveling for nine hours wasn't exactly how we wanted to celebrate). It was very nice to wake up at home again without any need to be anywhere. Though we certainly did some traveling this morning. Shortly before our trip, we managed to acquire a used bike for me (yay for Craigslist!). What better day than today to give it an inaugural ride, we thought. So we made our way to one of the trailheads in our area and took off.

The path was actually a former railroad line, and it still has some of its original trestle bridges. In general, the grade was pretty gentle, so we were able to talk comfortably as we rode side by side, taking in the sights, including a pick-your-own produce farm as well as a campground. In fact, we were so engrossed by the views that we didn't realize how far we had biked! In total, we logged a round trip of about 22 miles. Not bad for a first ride after many years' hiatus from riding at all. But I'm pretty sure I'm going to feel it tomorrow ...

I want to say something reflective and sentimental here, but our anniversary isn't over yet and we have lots of things planned for our last day of vacation. So the deeper thoughts will have to wait -- we are off to see WALL-E, and then we'll have dinner on the waterfront. More news soon, I promise!

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Regrouping

The heat has washed away at last. We woke up this morning to the darkest sky we've seen in a month (by 5 a.m., the summer sun is usually bright enough to look like it does at 8 because we're so far north), and it has rained buckets in the last few hours. Since the heat wave started, I've had the screen door and all our windows open with fans going and makeshift curtains pinned up over some of the panes to keep the temperature down inside, but today, the air is back to normal: fresh, light, and cool. It's quite peaceful with the mist coming over the mountains behind us, veiling the tops of the pines, and the spray from the rain blowing off the roof in sheets. It rarely ever pours like this -- steady showers are as heavy as it normally gets.

I've wanted to write for the last day and a half, but I've been too stirred up by the events in that time to put my thoughts down in a semi-organized fashion. All the tumult (or "feeling," as D would point out with an amused but sympathetic nod -- the results of my personality test have apparently opened a new window for him into understanding why I am the way I am) has finally dissipated, and I'm left just feeling anxiously pensive.

On Tuesday, D and I had a long, unexpected conversation about what I'm going to do after I finish my degree. I know, I know; I said earlier that I was fine with not having the Plan figured out, but I've also been thinking about said Plan at some point every day. So even though we fell onto the subject almost accidentally, it was probably waiting to come up.

Some background:

Initially, I had planned on searching for a job teaching writing at a university, but a very brief chat at the beginning of the school year with my academic advisor sort of crushed that idea. "You'll need a Ph.D.," Advisor said. "That way, you can increase your chances of getting a tenure-track position when you get out on the market. You don't want to adjunct -- it's essentially a dead-end job because you won't have enough time to focus on your own work and you'll get huge teaching loads and you'll just get mired down."

Well, that wasn't what I expected to hear.

Of course, Advisor's advice wasn't the only advice I intended to use to evaluate whether my original plan needed to be modified or scrapped. So I've been reading up on the market, perusing a few very helpful blogs, and really mulling over whether I want to take on the challenges that are consistently mentioned across the board from various sources. I won't go into all that in detail right now; let's just say the structure of academia is changing because of many different pressures that are leaving fewer jobs and less funding available while exerting greater demands on faculty. Also, my degree used to be the terminal degree in my field, but that has changed with the advent of the Ph.D. for said field. The rapid growth of low-residency programs for my degree have further depreciated the value of my degree on the market as well. So, if it's available to me at all, the ideal position -- working intensively with small groups of students in seminar to nurture their personal writing -- comes with many more responsibilities than I had considered (including teaching hefty course loads probably tangential to my field), whether I put in another four or five years on a Ph.D. or not. And then there's the very likely possibility of having to uproot D and drag him off to a place where he very likely will not have job opportunities as excellent as what he has here, whether we move so I can attend a Ph.D. program or take a teaching job. We've agreed wholeheartedly that we do not want to commute any longer after this round, and D's career is finally taking off. So it seems that my job plans will only disrupt that. It will be more practical for me to pursue something else, especially since it will bring us closer to having the life we've wanted for so long -- to be settled in a city we like, to be ready to raise a family.

But what will that something else be? (And should I be concerned that as I'm writing this, it has suddenly started hailing here? Don't tell me it's a sign ...)

The possibilities for that something else were the subject of my conversation with D. We sat in our darkening living room as the sun retreated, talking about how frustrating it was not to finish what you had thought you'd started -- projects, career paths -- and the fear that it was just something inherent to your own personality that was getting in the way, not the circumstances themselves. D has been in that position in his own job search, so he truly understands the position I'm now in. Not that either of us feel I should not finish my degree -- the experience in the program is invaluable and certainly worth the time and effort for my own personal growth as a writer. But where do I go afterward?

I think I'm afraid to pick a direction because I've abandoned the last few paths I've started along. Well, perhaps "abandoned" is too strong here -- I've learned from each position, and that has enabled me to move to the next path (or maybe the next fork in one continuous web of paths) because of transferable skills and increased experience. I guess I just want all the career hopping to end and to find something I have a true passion for with a location and work hours that will allow me not to be an absentee wife and mother. Is that too much to ask? I know this might sound like I just don't want to work, but that's really not the case.

What we did figure out Tuesday night is that we both want me to take the time to make a good choice for me. The last few job choices have been motivated by deadlines over which we had little control. This time, we have a little more flexibility -- even as much as a year after I graduate (kind of an arbitrary limit, but we do want to be a two-income household before we have children). For that luxury, I'm enormously grateful.