The soul has greater need of the ideal than the real for it is by the real that we exist, it is by the ideal that we live

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

And the band played on

Let's see, teach at 8, office hrs 9-11, faculty meeting at 11, pottery class at 1, website meting at 4, teach at 6. I think I have a full day.

The week is working out far better than I thought. After I have a day like this I find myself able to loll about until at least noon the following day, so I'm not relapsing like I was last week. I may actually get over this infection yet. In fact I woke up early this morning, I assume it's because I'm well rested and finally feel like accomplishing something.

What I really want is to sit down at a wheel and make pots all day, alas, that pesky four job thing is gonna get in the way today. I'm thinking that if the weather is not too bad after next week, then I'll have time to sit down and make stuff while I'm off for the holidays. there's plenty to do in that regard.



A couple of years ago my last maternal aunt died, and left behind her only son who's 62. He's a bit of a puzzle since he's somewhat developmentally disabled. he's functional, he held a job for 34 years, and is now retired yet debilitated by a stroke, but not functional emotionally. I didn't attend her funeral, nor do I intend to attend any other funerals from here on out. So I haven't seen him since shortly before her death. But this past three days he's been on my mind a lot, no idea why. I'm not going down that road of contacting him, it'd lead to trips to his house and taking him places, and getting "involved," as it were, and I got the cure for that shit several years ago. I'm just wondering about him.

Speaking of the cure for helping people in my "family." I got a call the other day from my brother telling me his sister asked him if he thought I'd entertain the notion of meeting her somewhere so we could bury the hatchet.

Seriously.

Fortunately I was spared from supplying an answer because he told me his response was "NO!"

No indeed.

Down to three plays to read and then I can decide which one I'm directing in the spring.

Perhaps today I can finally start to use the new exercise equipment I got two weeks ago. I've been sick ever since I got it so it's sitting her moldering, not unlike it's owner.

Today's office hrs include a meeting with a student whose suggestions I'm afraid I may well have to take seriously. This particular student knows more about the operation of this theatre than I do and could well and easily transfer out and leave me high and dry. So I'm hoping whatever it is she wants, that it's not too tough a pill to swallow. I wish that place were viable, yet I know it's on it's knees and the administration intends to keep it there. They need to spend money on it and get it up in shape, and we need to rebuild it so it's a viable alternative to the other schools in the city, but with everyone having to scrape by just to make ends meet with other jobs it's unlikely.

Facebook messaged with the old bf yesterday. Why am I so conflicted about getting involved with him again?

The annual Christmas pottery sale is Saturday, let's hope I make as much as I did last year. That would put me in good stead to plow the windfall back into the business. Maybe I can actually have my dream studio after all.

I know why I'm so conflicted about the old bf. He hates horses, he's set in his ways, he's not one for compromise, and though I'm willing to compromise I'm not willing to do it all. He doesn't want to live in the country, he doesn't want to relocate, he doesn't want to return to northern California to live, not that I'm set on such a thing, but the possibility would be nice. He doesn't want to live in New Mexico, and I have to wonder if I'd ever get him to sell that horrible condo in the ghetto he just bought last year. I say horrible, and that's not true. It's fine, but there's no perks. No place to park the car that's even covered, no yard, since he's on the top floor, no place to have a studio, no place to have any kind of a workshop, it's essentially an apartment. A three bedroom apartment, but an apartment none the less. He's a bit critical, and I'm sorry but that position in my life is well filled. I don't need more criticism, I need someone to balance the load.

But he does make me laugh.

And so it goes:

Love