Franken-Don

It was a dark and stormy season for Don Draper. And then he lived happily ever after.

The season finale of 'Mad Men' this year just so happened to coincide with my AP classes reading Frankenstein. All that discussion about the moral implications of the human decision to create another being got me thinking about my favorite hard-working ad-man and pieced-together ticking time bomb Don Draper. Seems Don could learn a lesson from good old Vic Frankenstein about what happens when one plays God.

Mary Shelley's 1818 novel was intended to be a science-fiction thrill ride about a mad scientist who creates a super-human from a conglomeration of dead body parts. Read now, in an age of scientific record breaking, the discussion centers more around the consequences of the act as opposed to the probability of the action. This being said, most would agree that Victor was wrong to think he could mess with humanity and not suffer because of it. We might say the same for Don.

Don is, in his own way, a combination of both creature and creator. As the creator he is able to reinvent himself time and again, trouble-shooting possible blemishes of his previous doppelganger. But when Anna died we saw the creature come out--lonely and isolated without a soul in the world who really, truly knows him. She was his anchor--just knowing she was in the world, embracing Dick Whitman and all his mortality, was enough to keep him perpetually treading water, head bobbing at the surface. But then she dies and he starts to sink. Or maybe swim. Self reliant for possibly the first time, Don begins to reinvent himself again. Cutting out the alcohol and loose women, he crawls toward redemption in the eyes of the viewer. Is Faye the new Anna!?

*

Alas, no. The creator rises again. A fresh start with a new young thing is all this creature needs to get it right this time.

*

Somehow I think Don's conscience will eventually wear out and we will be forced watch him chase his mangled and vengeful self across the Arctic tundra.

Cathy + Heathcliff Forever

Charlotte Bronte wrote: "Whether it is right or advisable to create beings like Heathcliff, I don't know. I scarcely think it is."

*

If you're not familiar with Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, allow me to sum it up for you:

1. Guy and girl are in love.

2. Guy is bad for girl due to his general monsterness.

3. Guy protects girl from himself by being mean to her and running away.

4. Girl goes with other guy out of desperation and isolation.

5. She is miserable. Spends lots of time in the rain contracting weather-induced diseases.

6. First guy comes back for her and she sees that his skin is sparkly in the sunlight.

7. He is too late.

8. She dies of a weather/child induced illness.

9. He vows to make everyone's life miserable for like, forever.

10. Done and done.

*

Let me tell you, those Brontes must have been a riot to live with. Unrequited love, dreams of death, crazy people abounding. No wonder it is Bella and Edward's favorite book...

The Flight of Summer

We got home from vacation late last night and when I woke up this morning, School was waiting for me. Kind of like when my almost-4-year-old comes in in the middle of the night and stands as close as possible, silently waiting for me to wake up and soil myself. Her good morning message: "I know you and Summer have had a nice fling, but let's be honest, it's not serious and we are getting back together." She's a bossy little thing, but I love her. This post is dedicated to my sweet Summer, who treated me like a princess this year.

It was a great summer for reading and I feel satisfied reflecting on the literary places I've been over the past two months. The quick and dirty shortlist:

Homer and Langley by E.L. Doctorow

In March of 1947, emergency crews responded to a report of a strong odor coming from a brownstone on 5th Avenue and, upon arrival, were met with a wall of junk. Crews were forced to pull things out onto the sidewalk in order to get into the house. After breaking into an upstairs window and crawling over debris for two hours, one police officer discovered the body of the elderly Homer Collyer. His brother Langley was nowhere to be found. Police eventually removed 84 tons of rubbish and debris from the house, only to find, almost a month later, the body of Langley Collyer who had apparently been crawling through a tunnel to bring food to his blind and paralyzed brother when one of his contraptions fell on top of him and killed him. Homer is said to have died of starvation days later. This novel is E.L. Doctorow's fictionalized account of how they got to this point.

The Magician's Assistant by Ann Patchett

Sabine has been in love with Parcifal since she began working as his assistant 20 years before the start of this story. They eventually marry, Sabine knowing full well that Parcifal is gay and dying of AIDS. After his death, Sabine embarks upon a journey of discovering who Parcifal really was that leads her from her comfortable California mansion to a bitter and brutal mid-western winter. Here she learns that, just like any good magic show, there is always more to the magician than what you can see.

Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger

A ghost story and a love story about a twin who leaves her apartment across from Highgate Cemetery in London to her twin nieces whom she has not seen since infancy due to a falling-out with her sister. Elspeth haunts the strange girls while they develop relationships among her closest living friends both in the apartment above and the apartment below. Niffeneger is best known for The Time-Traveler's Wife, which I loved. Somehow this story was quite a bit weirder...

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky

DO NOT tell my AP Lit. students that I read this book for the first time this summer. They are of the impression that I am a long-studied expert on this classic Russian tale. Do you know the story? The crime: murder. The punishment: six hundred pages of the guilty conscience of one Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov.

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson

I am a big fan of Anderson's powerful YA books (Speak, Catalyst, Twisted), but this one was really tough to finish. Inside the mind of an anorexic teenage girl, the reader truly sees the struggle caused by this disease. Scary. And so sad.

The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder by Rebecca Wells

I happened upon this book while browsing the shelves of the library and was so excited! I love Rebecca Wells, who wrote The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood series. She has a way of creating a setting that makes you want to move to a place, even if that place is the Louisiana bayou. She also writes strong and vibrant female characters the reader can't help but fall instantly in love with. This book rivaled Half-Broke Horses for page-turner of the summer as it is the alternately hilarious and heartbreaking story of Calla Lily Ponder as she grows up, leaves home, and discovers the world her mama would have wanted for her.

Now I'm off to make calendars, set up my classroom, copy my syllabi, and update my school website...

Horses and Heroines

When I read The Glass Castle a few years back, I was sucked into a world so unbelievable and riveting I had to cancel all my goings-on and close myself into the bedroom until every last page was turned. And when I have that kind of connection to a piece of writing, to a story, it can sometimes make me reluctant to read other works by the same pen--for fear she can't possibly do that again and I wouldn't want to ruin her high literary standing in my internal critic's shop.

That being said, Half Broke Horses is brilliant. It's the life story of Lily Casey, Walls' maternal grandmother, told in first person the way only Walls can tell a life story: in short yet voluminous vignettes. Lily Casey was a woman not always dealt the best hand in life, but who always knew how to bluff her way to victory or to work her way out of a debt. She was fiercely ambitious, which often led to disappointment, but she always had a plan for what to do next. This is the kind of story you want to tell your daughter, whom you believe will be the first female president of the United States, to remind her that it's OK to want everything in this world.

I grew up with a fiercely strong and independent mother whose voracious belief that I would one day be the president was not to be extinguished. She also believed I would be a doctor and a lawyer; a teacher and a graphic designer; a famous artist and a famous writer. I'll never forget the Christmas of my 6th grade year. I was going through a phase where my dreams included Harvard Law School and my mom found a Harvard sweatshirt at the local department store. When I opened it Christmas morning she relayed the story of its purchase and the conversation she had with the clerk about her daughter who was going to be going to Harvard. "Wow! Congratulation, that is quite an accomplishment!" the clerk exclaimed, "What will she be studying?" "She thinks law," my mom replied, "but she may change her mind by the time she gets there."

This overwhelming belief that I was rocket-scientist material made me the dreamer I am today. It gave me confidence through adolescence and college--something a lot of women don't encounter until later and then, to some, it is fleeting. Even now, as a 31-year-old, there have been times I've overheard my mother boasting to another relative about some accomplishment of mine the way I might describe my own son's first steps or how he is surprisingly verbose for three. She is a great teacher of many things (hard work, follow-through, and weed-pulling to name a few), but the two most important lessons she has taught me in my life are how to believe in myself unwaveringly and how to believe in others the same.

Lily Casey was a believer and a dreamer. I like to think, if asked about the aspirations of her granddaughter she would have replied, "She will probably be one of the most profound memoirists of her time. That or the president of the United States."

"Anyone who thinks he's too small to make a difference has never been bit by a mosquito."--Lily Casey Smith

Help Yourself

As an English major in college, my focus was American Literature--more specifically Early American Political Rhetoric. Plainly speaking, I studied the struggle to create and form an American Voice. It seems kind of dramatic now, 10 years removed from the world I was once submerged in--looking for America, but I was truly in love. The idea that social injustice was confronted head-on in this new land was fascinating to me. I found myself drawn to eras in which the oppressed would rise against opposing forces and make the world a different place. A better place. The Help catapulted me back into that college mindset, made me want to know more about this particular atrocity that took place in my America.

Kathryn Stockett, a white woman raised by a black maid in Jackson, Mississippi, wrote this story in an effort to seek absolution from the past sin of passivity. The novel follows two African American maids in the 1960s and the white women they work for. The white women who have fallen so neatly into the role of "master" to these black women who raised them and whom, in childhood, they had loved like mothers. It is also the story of Miss Skeeter, who I imagine is none other than Miss Kathryn Stockett herself, a young white woman and a charter member of the Jackson Junior League. Skeeter does what Stockett did not (in her youth) and begins to empathize with these maids and the injustices they face in the 1960s South. She wants to tell their story.

This is my book club pick for April and I am geared up for an array of Southern food tonight including fried chicken, cornbread and chocolate pie. I think I will wear an apron.

Oscar WOW

*

This is the kind of book that you can just tell probably ripped the author up to write. Controlled his being to the very core of his soul. Like he tried to write a work of fiction but could not avoid brutal autobiographical practices.

Told in a vibrant mix of ingles y espanol, The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao would be a dura read for anyone not in possession of a working knowledge of el idioma espanola. It is the sad and brilliant tale of Oscar and the Dominican-American generations that preceded his existence. It schooled me historically on the plague of evil dictatorship in the Dominican Republic over the past century and had me asking my dad (the words leaving my mouth as the realization of their idiocy hit me) what year the Dominican Republic became a self-governing territory of the United States (shame on me and my Spanish endorsement!/sorry Puertro Rico!).

The Carribean culture being steeped in the supersticious, the root of the story revolves around a family curse (or fuku) that just keeps coming back. A curse that affects Oscar, his beautiful sister Lola, their mother Beli, her parents (dead under the rule of Rafeal Trujillo, Evil Dictator), their relatives, various neighbors and boyfriends and possibly any family pets that may have, unluckily, been adopted into the curse. Set alternately in New Jersey and Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, the book employs a literary technique I love called "en media res"--Latin for "into the middle of affairs"--in which the story begins in the middle or at the climax, fills in details from the past, and resolves after having done so (side note: this technique is also one of the reasons I love the show Southland).

Years after the publication of The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver is said to have, in press conferences, responded to questions about the novel by saying, "I gave ten years of my life to that story and I no longer have anything to give." I imagine this must be what Junot Diaz feels about the story of Oscar. An immense sense of pride (very Latin) and a constant, suppressed terror at the thought of returning, his heart heavy with apologies, to the narrative.

*The black, white and red cover is most familiar to me and the one mass-marketed in the US, but I think this one is a better representation of the story:

Habitual Hobby Hobbit

I've mentioned before (here) that one of my favorite hobbies is taking up new hobbies. With Spring Break coming up, I was bound to be on the hunt for something new to do and, alas, the inkling to pick up some knitting needles nestled it's way into my subconscious like a...

Anyway, I had just finished reading The Friday Night Knitting Club--a good story about women and craft--and they just made it seem so simple! So I checked out some books from the library, got myself some cheap needles and a skein of yarn from Walmart and embarked upon my soon-to-be new favorite hobby.

Seven hours and two blistered pointer fingers later I had successfully completed five two-inch scarves. Since I couldn't figure out what to do when I messed up, I kept starting over. I was pretty sure I was only a couple of years away from making this (my original inspiration)...




...when I decided to check on Etsy and see how much these suckers were going for. $12! I could buy this hat for $12 and I had just spent the equivilent of an entire work day making knitted scarves for mice! Plus, I could not do anything whilst knitting. I tried to knit during family movie night while the boys watched Wall-E, but I had to sit in an entirely auxillary room because I needed a virtual spotlight on my fingers.


Women who knit: I applaud you. It is a beautiful craft. But I am moving on...

Still Waiting After All These Years

I've been sluggishly working through Fumiko Enchi's The Waiting Years (Japanese title: Onna zaka or 女坂) for a couple of weeks now in anticipation of tomorrow night's book club meeting. I love a Japanese translation as much as the next person, but...I am going to have to put some time in tonight to finish.

This novel--a glaring social critique about the lives of Japanese women--was first published in 1958 and won Enchi Japan's highest literary award. The story follows Tomo, the wife of a high-ranking and politically shameless government official, as she goes about the daily affairs expected of a woman in her social position. Things like scouring the country in search of the perfect concubine to bring home to her husband. All in a day's work, Tomo!

It is heart-wrenching and frustrating to read about Tomo's ultimate submission and her husband's hatred-inducing oppression of all women. I'm looking forward to the conversation we'll undoubtedly have tomorrow--a group of college-educated, working wives and mothers--about the self-deprecating Tomo. I don't see myself entering into a friendship with someone as pitiful as she is, but then, I suppose that's what literature does, right? Exposes us to things we would not normally choose to give the time of day. Stay tuned for a re-cap of the evening's festivities.

On the menu: sushi and man-bashing.

Persuasion

I was persuaded, on Wednesday, to stay home with this:

Well, actually, I was mandated to do so on account of his above-average fever. But let's be honest, that is a persuasive little face.

Speaking of persuasion, I feel compelled to share a round of first attempts at persuading an authority figure, courtesy of my 9th grade honors students:

These might work on me:

K: Mom, please let me go to the movies. It will cost you nothing as I will find a ride and pay for the ticket. Also, when I return I will be rejuvenated and probably more productive as far as my chores are concerned.

C: Mom, letting me walk to school would save you gas money. Also, I will burn more energy which will make me calmer and more willing to eat your dinner.

A: Mom, I need a cell phone!! What if, one day, I get lost or in a bad situation (even though you always tell me not to do such a thing) and no one is around? I won't be able to call you or the police to come and save me.

B: Mom, can I go to the movies with friends? You won't have to worry about me for at least 2 hours and you can do whatever you want with that time. Plus, you won't have to make me dinner.

M: The best, most beautifulest, wonderful mom in the whole wide world belongs to me. I am a focused, hardworking girl for my age and I think I should be able to throw a bon fire party for my birthday with no parental figures attending. Remember, I am very responsible!

Driving-related hilarity:

S: Mom and Dad, can you guys stop yelling at me when I drive? It stresses me out and if you keep it up I'll crash or have a heart attack someday.

E: Hey mom, you should get me a car for my birthday! If I never get a car, then how can I go places in the life? Don't you want me to go places in life?

Extreme Sports:

J: Dad, I know you think he's too old, but honestly, he's a 4.0 student who goes to church twice every Sunday and Monday. And he already knows that I would never do anything extreme with anyone until I'm married.

My two favorites:

J: Mom, you should let me go to a musical theater camp over the summer because it will allow me to gain more experience in that field. It will also allow me to learn under different teachers and meet other people interested in this profession.

C: Dear Albus Dumbledore, Being arguable the best wizard of all time, you should be astute enough to recognize real magical talent when you see it. Therefore, I plead with you to accept me, being insanely un-mugglish and exceptionally magical, into you wonderful school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Juliet Always Dies

I am supposedly editing Romeo and Juliet literary analysis rough drafts as we speak. But between the invalidity of "young love" and the submissive role of women in the play I am feeling a little forelorn myself. Somehow these papers reek with cynicism and I am starting to wonder: "Did I put these ideas in your head, or did you come up with this stuff on your own?" I mean, it's still a good story, right? We might have to spend a day talking about all the puppy dog and rainbow parts or something. Did I forget to mention the puppy dog parts?!?

While we are on the subject of star-crossedness, let me just briefly mention the season premiere of 'Lost'. I have very little of my own insight to lend, but have done quite a bit of reading up on what others think and it has sparked some things for me. Our beloved survivors are now operating in what the producers are calling a "flash sideways"--as I see it there are three possibilities: 1. Jughead was successful in resetting time therefore allowing Oceanic flight 815 to avoid crashing on the island; 2. it was not and the survivors have simply been catupulted into the future along with the chains that bind them to their island nemesis; or 3. Jughead was successful in the eyes of Destiny, catupulting our survivors into the future along with the chains that secure them to their star-crossed lover, The Island. Or it could be all of them. I'm not sure, but the point here is JULIET!

Juliet dies in the island "flash sideways" (there is no good way to make that singular--sideway?), but not before thinking (a thought extracted from her cold dead brain by resident ghost whisperer Miles Straume) "...it...worked...[cough]...[sputter]..." What the what?!? does that mean? I don't know, but here is how I bring things back around for you and whilst I do so please remember that everything matters. Don't be like my husband, who, upon my gasp at the title "Shut the Door. Have a Seat." appearing on screen to prelude the season three finale of Mad Men said, "The title does not always mean something huge." Really, it was like a cry for help which resulted in the pausing of the show so that I could deliver a thirty-minute lecture on allusion and the various literary implications of said title. The thesis of this lecture: Everything means something. Elizabeth Mitchell's character is not named Juliet because the writers thought it sounded pretty. She has been a straddler of fences in an ancient feud. She has gone behind her parental figure (Ben)'s back and fallen in love with someone from the other side (Jack. And then Sawyer.). She has tricked that evil temptress Fate. Thwarted her plan, if you will. But ultimately, the story always ends the same. Juliet dies. She has to. It is her destiny.

I think what comes from her death will be monumental in determining the outcome for our survivors. Will it be in vain, or will she serve as a sacrificial lamb on an alter to "peace of mind"?

RIP Juliet. I didn't really like you until you became a mechanic in the Dharma Initiative in 1977 and lived in a house with Sawyer. But I'm sad to see you go.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

I love contests. And until I accidentally subscribed to 'Marie Claire' magazine, I entered evey one I came across. Now, armed with a subscription I can't seem to get rid of, I am more cautious in this course. However, while conducting research on abc.com in preparation for Season 6 of 'Lost', a cookie popped up addressed to me personally: Lost fanatics! Enter Now to Win a Sneek Peak of Season 6! SO I entered and guess what? I won. Here is what they sent me:

A message in a bottle along with a Dharma flash drive on which was loaded a sneak peek of the Season 6 premiere. Awesome! I watched and learned and was very excited. Then I went to the ABC website and guess what was on their home page? The exact same video. Suddenly I did not feel so special. The flash drive is pretty cool, though:

And the message reads: "Nothing's Irreversible". Which I get, because that was the whole point of the bomb, right?

Tonight's the big night! I am so excited I might actually be able to stay up past 8:30, which has been my median bedtime of late. Look for my post-viewing run-down tomorrow (or the next day, if I'm being realistic about my ability to stay up until 11:00. Ugg. Why would anyone want to do that except in extreme circumstances?!?). Until then friends,

On being hungry...

I revel in every opportunity to use the word "dystopian" so here goes: Ringing with allusions to '1984', 'A Brave New World' and 'The Most Dangerous Game' Suzanne Collins' 'The Hunger Games' blew me out of the water. It is the heart-wrenching story of Katniss, a sixteen-year-old girl desperately trying to survive in this near-future post-apocalyptic dystopian society known as Panem. After a series of dictator-induced catastrophes, what used to be known as the United States is now a mass of rubble divided by industrial potential into twelve districts. District 12 (home to our tragic heroine) is the coal mining district, and its inhabitants live in constant fear of death by starvation or execution for a crime they might unwittingly commit, seeing that the laws are vague and easily interpreted to match the will of the "Peacekeepers". And that is just the exposition.

Every year the Capitol puts on a competition aimed at "inspiring" the residents of the twelve district into submission. One girl and one boy tribute from each district are chosen lottery-style to participate in the Hunger Games--a fight to the death designed to leave one victor whose prize will be a year free from the harsh possibility of starvation for all of his or her district. Katniss is not actually chosen, but volunteers after her 12-yr-old sister's name is pulled from the hat. She finds herself alongside the baker's son, traveling to the Capitol, where their adventure will lead them into the depths of internal conflict, not to mention the fact that literally millions of people are trying to kill them.

This YA book is written at a 6th grade level--accessible for young readers but entertaining and a quick read for adults. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but, I think it will make a really great movie.

It feels weird to watch '24' and not be pregnant...

It was bound to happen. After eight seasons of torture and high terror alerts, '24' writers are going green and starting to recycle brilliant plot details such as the cutting off of limbs in order to remove police tracking bracelets and suitcases holding bombs. You just can't waste that kind of stuff. It's fodder for telephiles everywhere.

In Season 2, James Badge Dale's character Chase cuts, strike that, CHOPS off his own hand to save he and Jack from a bomb about to go off in...dunk, dunk, dunk, dunk, seconds. Then, saddly, we never hear from the guy again. I can't even remember if he died. Probably of something crazy like a gunshot to the neck or a lab-manufactured tropical disease.

*Not afraid to cut off hands.

This season, Renee is back, only now she's not wearing a pant suit or spouting off FBI anti-torture protocols. She has had a psychiatric break-down due to the torture Jack made her participate in, and now she is totally unstable. Which leads her to accept the offer to go back into deep cover with the Russian mob and, because it hasn't been done in six seasons, chop, strike that, GRIND off a Russian thumb in an effort to remove its previous owner's house-arrest bracelet.
*Not afraid to cut off thumbs.

And...I'm back on with '24'.

Reading While Tired

I have not felt inspired to write lately. Maybe because I am fatigued beyond belief. I don't know, I've heard it can sap your creative energy. Nevertheless, here you have a smattering of books I have read over the past month:

1. 'An Abundance of Katherines', by John Green. This book made the cut as one of our new additions to the Battle of the Books competition about to begin here at OHHS. I like it for teens for a few reasons: a. it is about being awesome at math, which you rarely see in literature aimed at young adults; b. it uses footnotes to explain certain words, phrases or historical references not necessarily pertinent to the plot of the story, but interesting nonetheless; c. there is a funny friend who has a great vocabulary. The story is that of Colin, a 17-yr-old child-prodigy who dreams of becoming a genius (the difference between the two is key to the development of the plot). By the time he graduates from high school, Colin just so happens to have dated nineteen girls named Katherine. Weird? Yes. But so is Colin. When K-19 breaks up with him before going to camp, he is devestated, love-lorn, and lonely. To cheer him up, his BFF Hassan takes him on a road trip and along the way Colin begins to develop a mathematical theorum about love, claiming that romantic relationships can be charted and graphed.

2. 'Flight', by Sherman Alexie. Sherman Alexie can be my boyfriend, if he wants. Lord knows I have spent enough time defending his honor to my work parents lately.* I read 'Flight' in a few hours on Christmas Eve, and maybe because of this and the fact that I read partly by the light of the Christmas tree, I found it to be ripe with Dickens-esque ghosts and visions. As per usual for Alexie, we find ourselves confronted with a hero who is himself extremely fragmented. In this case, he is fifteen, half-American Indian and half-Irish, a victim of the corrupt foster system, and beset with one of the worst cases of adolescent acne imaginable. Thus the self-esteem-boosting nickname "Zits" with which our young protagonist has been saddled. Zits is tired of the cruelty he has encountered in his life and eventually turns to violence. At the very moment he is about to commit an extreme act, he is somehow transported into the past and begins skipping around time, occupying the bodies of people who have been victims of and participants in horrific acts of violence. Through it all, Zits sees how he has had a role in the destruction of his own life and finds himself begging to be returned to the present, where he can boldly accept the judgement for the act he thinks has already occurred. Powerful take on redemption and grace. And, like I said, a few good nods at Scrooge.

3. 'The Last Song' by Nicholas Sparks. This was our book-club pick for January and reads like a Disney Channel Original movie. Which I enjoy, actually. But mostly when I can watch it while folding laundry and not as much when I have to read it. The movie is coming out soon too, I think, and features Hannah Montana. What did I like about it? The setting: North Carolina beach town and lots of nights spent looking at the stars while gaurding turtle eggs. You don't see that every day.

*For months I have, along with the support of some of my dear colleagues, been working on a book adoption for Alexie's The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. We have faced, for lack of better description, challenges. However, I see success on the horizon...

Love and Marriage

I've spent the day discussing adolescent viewpoints on love and marriage, in a prelude to our beginning to read Romeo and Juliet tomorrow. The day has been full of wonderful, wonderful irony. The kind of stuff sitcoms are made of. Here is just a taste:

1. A student passionately shared his feelings that people can fall in love at any age and should be able to get married as young as they want. "It just depends on maturity, not a number," said he. And then his super-sized toy skateboard fell out of his pocket.

2. Another student said, "I definitely think children are the worst idea ever. They like, ruin marriage. At least that's what my dad said. But he stole my PS3, so I guess, what does he know?"*

3. A love-lorn young lady: "Well, you should be allowed to get married when you've got it all figured out..." Oh boy.

"Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

Illusions in the Night

The New Year is upon me and I am exhausted! My three-year-old has, of late, become disenchanted by false perceptions of scary things in his bedroom. And, for some reason, his natural instinct in these moments of extreme fear, is to come into our bedroom. And turn on the light. It is not easy to be patient and kind with the child at 3:24 am when the overhead bulb is blazing daggers into my sunken eyeballs.

As I am learning with excruciating pain, false perceptions are not easy to break. I have, a few times lately, laid down with him until he has fallen asleep. Which is a terrible idea for the record, since I end up falling asleep myself. Then, when I wake up to move to my own bed, suddenly find myself unable to sleep at all. Which may be due to the nap I just took from 7:30-9:00 pm. The other night I read an entire autobiography by a woman who escaped a polygamous cult. And it wasn't all that well-written.

It makes me think about what false perceptions have defined me--those things I have operated under or have been owned by. What monsters (or in J's case, dinosaurs) live in my closet? Probably most of them have to do with body dis morphia and the base value of monetary goods. My value as a wife or mother, based on my engagement with my children or the fact that I work outside of the home. I'm more confident at 30 than I was at 25, or even 27 when James was born. I love my job, but feel pressured at times to make the absolute most of the time I have with my kids, be it evenings or weekends. I wonder what it is that I do to overcompensate for these insecurities...and how the illusion of "what it should be like" will look when I am 40.