Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Hello! It is Wednesday, almost the start of Memorial Day weekend, and I am waiting for Steve to arrive home. The kitties and I are hanging out on the porch listening to the birds and watching the warm day pass by.
Although I was initially disappointed that several teaching gigs dried up this late spring and summer, I now realize that it was a disguised blessing. I have not had time off for a long time, and I am still earning some income filling in for absent instructors, tutoring, and visiting classrooms. Also, our MV book has spiked a bit in sales, so that is good. Karen and I are working on other writing projects, and will be presenting programs at Gen Con this summer. I have also put my name in to sub (percussion) with the LaPorte County Community Symphony. We will see what happens. Steve continues to catalog and teach online classes. He is writing more, and I am so proud of Steve for pursuing writing. He is such a good writer, and his work needs to be out there.
Since January or February, I have been writing poems like a maniac! I cannot stop, nor do I want to! The poetry group, WordPlay, founded by John Homan, has been a godsend. The group meets once a month at a charming coffee house called The Electric Brew. This event inspires me to write more often, and the writers are creative and kind. I am so happy to call them friends.
There is something interesting about the lighting in The Electric Brew. There is a light that tends to flicker on and off during the poetry reading. I wonder who is saying hello?
Thursday, May 12, 2016
This version of the blog was written in hard copy while riding the stationery bike at Planet Fitness. (I burned 107 calories.) Yesterday, I accidentally tossed my driver's license into the trash. (I was cleaning the equipment after working out.)Today, I jokingly told the worker at the Indiana BMV(Bureau of Motor Vehicles) that I must have subconsciously hated my license photograph so I threw it away. The BMV lady (BMVL) didn't even crack a smile. I might as well have been talking to Siri, or Betty, my mean GPS. At least they had more personality. I will say in her defense that BMVL called me over before I sat down. I asked BMVL how her day was going. She ignored me. She just kept with the script. Lady, just treat me like a person! I'm not a number!
I had to take my mug shot three times. It felt like a damn mug shot. Why don't I wear stripes and carry a number? Teeth covered. Chin down. Ears out. Face straight. The license photograph is the antithesis of a selfie. I used to enjoy going to the BMV to get my photo taken. Now I dread it, thanks to the ass (or the commune of stinky asses) who decided to not allow people to smile. We are not all criminals; stop treating us like we are! It is as bad as going to the pharmacy to buy cold medicine. A couple of bad people ruined it for everyone. Talk about punishing the class for the sins of a few.
Oh, dear readers, it gets better from here. BMVL checks my information. Yes, I am an organ donor. She doesn't mention anything until my weight. She glances over me accusingly and says that my weight needed to be changed. Bitch, I thought. You are fat shaming me at the BMV and you have NO business shaming anyone. Look in the mirror. I gave her another number. It's still not the real one, but it's none of her business--or the government's business--what I weigh. I will write her supervisor in a letter. Don't question a woman about her weight on her license!!!! Also, weight fluctuates.
This experience lit a fire within myself. I am angry with myself for allowing myself to not be in the ideal shape, so I am going to change that.
I am hereby turning my pissivity into positivity.
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