So. Long time no type! I’ve had a drink or three. And a bad day.

As a rule, I avoid drinking. It peels away the armour I use to protect me from the slings and arrows of outrageous fate, leaves me vulnerable to any damn thing that comes down the pike.  But what the hell. Things are unlikely to get worse.

Finally, FINALLY, I have a chance to Blame My Parents! At long last, after a life-time of decidedly un-hip ill-disguised adoration of my parents, I can lay a little piece of misery right on their doorstep. I give you their song, “The Impossible Dream” from Man of La Mancha:

The Impossible Dream

“To reach the unreachable star, this is my quest, to follow that star, no matter how hopeless, no matter how far…”

I was reared on show tunes, born and raised on the belief that I was destined to find that kind of love. The crime was compounded with this, and THIS.

So what happened?

Sometimes the simple things are too much to ask, and you have one more broken romantic heart.

Many, many times in my life I have read a passage that has spoken directly to my heart, exactly when I most needed it. Today was just such a day - this excerpt is from Alice Hoffman’s Incantation:

“If every life is a river, then it’s little wonder that we do not even notice the changes that occur until we are far out in the darkest sea. One day you look around and nothing is familiar, not even your own face.

My name once meant daughter, granddaughter, friend, sister, beloved. Now those words mean only what their letters spell out: Star in the night sky. Truth in the darkness.

I have crossed over to a place where I never thought I’d be. I am someone I would never have imagined. A secret. A dream. I am this, body and soul. Burn me. Drown me. Tell me lies. I will still be who I am.”

I will still be who I am.

We don’t own joy - it is a gift given in moments, to those open to receive it.

Be thankful, and be ready. That little boy with the rolling belly laugh at gymnastics? It doesn’t get any better than that - thank you.

OK, here we go! I registered for my first two classes at Wayne State University today, in pursuit of a master’s degree in library and information sciences.

Time to evolve, finally, and this feels like exactly the right direction. I stay connected with the world of kid lit, but am not looking ahead to years of the wild ups and downs of freelance writing. When I started my college career twenty-four years ago, I briefly flirted with the idea of a degree in technical writing, with the idea that I would love to write text books, but after I really looked hard at the daily life of that type of profession, I shied away and moved toward something more stable and predictable. At 17 years old, I knew that I was just not cut out for the capricious vagaries of life as a professional writer. And after five years of actually living it, I KNOW that I need a day job. Bad.

It should take me two years to complete this degree, if I go in the summers, too, and take a manageable 6 credits at a time. And of course, I’ll continue working during that time, so my writing days are far from over. I’d give it all up, though, for a part-time job at Barnes & Noble! Imagine it, all you tormented freelancers out there: you go in, you work, you leave, YOU’RE DONE. Boggles the mind.

In the mean time, I’ve got work through November, at least, and can start subbing as soon as that slows down. That terrifies me, now that it is actually a possibility, but that is a post for another day.

I cancelled our cable TV yesterday. As you can imagine, I had to justify this decision to the cable TV minion on the other end of the phone.

“No, we have not decided to go with a different service. Yes, I want NO CABLE TV. Trying to cut expenses. No, I do not want your super -low, please-please-please stay with us rate (and why wasn’t I getting that anyway??). Look, there are a lot of reasons I don’t want cable!”

Yes, I lost my temper a bit at the end there. I mean, I understand it is their job to try to talk me out of this kind of decision, but at a certain point it is just NONE OF THEIR FREAKIN’ BUSINESS, know what I mean?

For years now, I’ve been whining about my kids watching too much TV, but what have I really done about it? Stomped around a bit? Unplugged it once or twice and shooed them outside, only to find them right back at it 20 minutes later? Enough.

Now I don’t have to constantly be on “ICarly” patrol (a forbidden show for the younger set), or tangle with the pre-teen about whether or not “House” is appropriate for a 12 year old (HELLO IT’S NOT). We’ll still have broadcast TV, eventually, but for at least a while, goodbye “Sportscenter”. Goodbye “Girls Next Door” and the nine million other trashy, lowest-common-denominator, ohmygodwhatisthiscountrycomingto CRAP programs that my husband finds with eerie precision. Goodbye Food Network and The History Channel (sniff).

We’ll see how it goes.

When I was in high school, I wrote proposals for experiments to go on the space shuttle as part of my chemistry and physics coursework. With ENTHUSIASM.

I have actually seen the space shuttle launch, from a distance, which still goes down as one of the most thrilling experiences of my life.

I’ve been interested in NASA’s work for a long time, but did anyone else look at their most recent venture and think WTF? We just spent $79 MILLION DOLLARS to find out if there is ice on the moon.

Why, you ask? I know I did. Here is the rationale touted in an article on MSNBC.com: “In the long term, ice reservoirs could be used to provide water for lunar settlements, as well as oxygen for breathing and hydrogen fuel for spacecraft. In the shorter term, learning about lunar water could help scientists reconstruct the ancient past of the Earth-moon system.” Click here to read the full text of the article.

Call me silly. Call me short-sighted. Call me PISSED OFF that we just spent $79 MILLION DOLLARS on this.

The state of Michigan is in such dire straits that we are contemplating cutting the Michigan Promise scholarship, which is financial aid promised to approximately 96,000 promising young students in the state of Michigan. Two of those students are mine, and I get physically ill when I think about what we will have to do to come up with that money if this goes the way I think it will. Can we get some federal aid for that? Don’t think so…

Is it just me, or do the reasons given for conducting this research seem too incredibly lame to be true? “…water for lunar settlements”?? REALLY?

There is no more humbling experience than job hunting. I fully believe it is because you have to cram the pertinent parts of your life into those tiny little spaces on applications. It is, quite literally, diminishing.

Words to remember, as the resume count mounts and the phone remains silent:

“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fail.”

–Confucius

Courage!

Well, not AND gotten paid for it, like Kristin.

Thank you, Kristin, for this blog post, which so succinctly explains why, after five years as a freelancer, I just can’t take it anymore. I must admit, I surfed her blog with more than a little envy, and some other emotion I refuse to call regret. That is the life I probably would have led, if I had not embarked on the Mommy Road when I was so young.

I love the life I have now, wouldn’t change a thing, no way. But I can long, just a little, for far off places.

A recent revelation about my professional life will probably precipitate the demise of this blog… I’ve decided to go back to school. I’ve ridden the freelance roller coaster for five years now, and it is just by God time to get off this crazy train.

I’ve been joking that the last article I will attempt to shop out will be called “Life as a Freelance Writer; or Don’t Quit Your Day Job”. I am grateful for these last years, and the time I’ve been able to work from home, but I’ve reached the end of my ability to deal with the ups and downs.. that, and my steady Eddie, keep-the-kids-in-shoes client is related to the automotive industry, and I don’t have to tell you how grim THAT neck of the woods is looking.

So, evolving! I’ll tell you more about it when everything becomes official. In the mean time, I am seriously looking for work. Anything. REALLY.

I started running a little over three years ago, in my late thirties. I’ve been pretty active most of my life, sort of a workout serial monogamist. Taebo, inline skating, walking the dog - I’ve remained more or less in motion, but running has led me to places I never even knew existed.

It started because I was angry. Mike and I had purchased a treadmill for our anniversary in January, because we both were at the point where it was do SOMETHING or buy all new clothes. One afternoon I went down to do my brisk three mile walk, and I was just PISSED at someone I can’t name here, and the walking, it wasn’t ENOUGH. So I ran for a bit. And thought, “Hmmm….” So the next day I ran farther, and so an obsession began.

I love to run. Maybe because the last five years of my professional life have been such an uncertain struggle, I like doing something where you get measurable results from the work you put in. And though it is not really considered a total body workout, something about running puts me in touch with every inch of my body, and I guess I really like that, seeing as we’ve been together all these years, my body and I, and we’ve got a few more to get through before I shuffle off this mortal coil.

I am a pretty crappy runner. That is not false modesty, it is really true. I am slow, and built for power, not speed. My only true athletic gift for running is pure stubbornness - I refuse to quit.

Most recently, I’ve become an enthusiastic convert to the world of triathlons. I did one last summer and vowed NEVER AGAIN, largely because my relationship with the bike ended badly. The particular bike I was using (borrowed, and worth more than my truck) did NOT NOT NOT suit me, and the pain of riding it eclipsed everything else about the tri for me. I hurt in places I could not even talk to my mother about.

So this year, I bought a bike off craigslist, just to noodle around with the kids with, and to have in case I fell on my head and decided to do another tri… And then I did! And I LOVE MY BIKE! It is a hybrid, a cross between a mountain bike and a street bike, and I could not be happier with it.

I am still really slow on the bike, and at least three people have said, “You know, if you’re going to take these triathlons seriously…” and that is where they lose me. I’m not. I am not trying to qualify for the Olympics here, folks. I just want to stay in touch with my toes, and my abs, and my calves, and… well, you get the picture.

If riding my hybrid bike means the end of my tri bling, so be it. I’ve embarked on a new obsession - and nothing about my past track record says I have to be any GOOD at it.