so i know i just posted, but...

i decided to participate more in the whole 'blogosphere,' seeing as i long to know people are reading me, and therefore decided to scan through some existing blogs in search of something to read. rather than finding something good to read, i discovered blog after blog after blog about babies. do it yourself. click the link at the top of the page saying "next blog" and count. babies, babies, people trying unsuccessfully to have babies, newly married couple and yep... prego with a baby! oh, and one very unusual adult blog for a sex-educator named lindy.

does that mean i need to be a young, newly married mom struggling either with her fertility or infertility if i want to be a successful blogger?

even the neighborhood cat has a routine

there's a cat that lives in our neighborhood. i don't know very much about cats to tell you the exact species/variety/kind, but i can tell you it is very cute, it's black and white and it has a little bell that dangles from it's neck. every so often i find this cat nestled beneath the large tree in our back yard- no doubt trying to figure out how to play with my neighbors two indoor cats. but since the weather has been starting to turn, i haven't seen cute, black and white neighborhood cat too often. until this week that is.

three out of the four days that i've biked to work this week, i have spied our neighborhood kitty prancing down the same exact stretch of sidewalk. this may not seem very noteworthy right off the bat, but stick with me. i work the exact same shift four days out of the week. and so i leave the house at roughly the same time every day i work.

so imagine, tuesday at 1:15 neighborhood cat seen trotting down the sidewalk that runs alongside the private highschool's football field;

wednesday at roughly 1:15, same cat seen in same place doing what he/she was doing the day before;

friday, again at 1:15ish, friendly neighborhood cat is again traveling the same path as the two days earlier in the week, at the same time as earlier in the week.

saturday, no cat. i assume he/she is taking the weekend off.

maybe i have too much time on my hands- or maybe my life is just not that interesting right now, but i find it fascinating that the cute little guy is following a schedule of sorts, that even a cat can possess their own routine.

and this got me thinking, on my half-hour ride into work, about my own appreciation for routine. i enjoy waking up and doing the dishes right away- before the sleep has even left my eyes. i enjoy working the same shift each and every day. i enjoy coming home after a long day of work and pouring myself a glass of red wine.

there's a new manager at work that i haven't been able to make my mind up about yet, namely because he doesn't know my routine. every saturday, he is in charge of directing the flow for the evening shift and the past three saturdays i have been disappointed with my assigned lot for the night. while every other manager sees that i am best suited to take charge of my own section, this manager has me run around here and there- not giving me the time to work my own products. i like to work my own products.

basically it's the difference between doing one large project from the start of my shift and finishing it before my shift is over, or doing an hour of work over here, then an hour of work over there and then afterward, still having to complete the same large project before my shift ends- only because i wasn't the one to do all the earlier leg work- i don't know where to pick it up or where to leave it off.

this is one of the reasons i know i'm a marxist. in his discussions on human autonomy, marx talks about how a person is made more human by their connection to the work of their hands. he argues that a person working in an assembly line, for instance, doesn't not see the fullness of their work. he or she plays only a small and seemingly insignificant role in the work being done. it is much more fulfilling to complete a project beginning to end. and it is in that that we are able to see our value and worth as a human being living in society.

okay, so far i've gone from cat that walks in our neighborhood to questionable new manager at work to karl marx' theory of human autonomy... i can't tell whether i am just rambling now or whether this is just good writing. i mean, who else could connect those three strains of thought?

enough self-praise for the evening. and incase the marx blurb bored you from an otherwise interesting blog entry on cute kitties, maybe this will make up for it

today's agenda

the time is currently 12:08 on my computer screen which means i have exactly 42 minutes to shower, pluck my ever-thickening eyebrows, get dressed, find something in the house to eat and then peddle the 7.2 miles to work where i will yet again try and deal with annoying customer questions, socialize with people way too outgoing for their own good, figure out how much hummus and sushi to order for next week, stock my shelves, freeze my ass off in the cooler trying to rearrange everyone else's overstock and peddle the now cold and dark 7.2 miles home where i have a glass of wine and maybe a bubble bath waiting for me.

i know a lot of people who would say their lives are just as boring. i've never understood the point of suffering through a work week so that you can live your life the way you want- when all you do is suffer through another week of work. i've always wanted to work just enough so that i can actually live. travel. learn things. have crazy fun hobbies that fill my time and take up all my energy.

it feels sorta like the dead of winter where everyone and everything is hibernating and you just grit your teeth and get through it 'til spring arrives and life can be reborn. but the snow hasn't even fallen yet... too early hibernation!

wake up.

i need to reissue my library card so that i can continue learning things mid-week.

things i want to learn about:

1. metal working (specifically minor welding and metal forming so i can create lawn art out of discarded objects)

2. mushroom hunting (not necessarily the magic kind, since my grandfather used to be a non-magic mushroom hunter and used them in his cooking)

3. midwifery (since just about everyone i know is having a baby and it's on the brain, plus i've heard enough about how cold and impersonal and even harmful hospital births can be and i'd like to research the alternative)

that means first i need to find the old library books that are still in my possession from the last time i lived in minneapolis and probably prepare for a LARGE fine... hmph.

okay... if i'm going to get going then i've got to go now! i have exactly 39 min and counting!

learning to write

how do i write? what do i write? i say i want to be a writer when i grow up, but how do i do that? the 'when i grow up' part seems to be here and now but i have cut myself off from all my previous schooling, from my intellectual influences, from just about anything that spurs creativity and have slowly allowed my brain to turn to mush.

and so i ask myself... how do i write? my first instinct is to take a class. that's my first and only suggestion when i think about how to learn, just take a class. it's like i've been indoctrinated to believe the only learning worth anything is done inside a classroom and adding to my already large pile of student loans. but what if that's not an option for me at this time? how do i learn to write outside the classroom?

blog? i used to think blogging was the most ridiculous idea and created for angst-y thirteen year old girls that wanted to whine to the public of their oppressive suburban lifestyle. that was until i had a professor that blogged, and blogged intellectually mind you.

i can't promise anything remarkable. i can't even promise regularity seeing as i usually drop whatever hobby/activity/craft i start only days after starting. but i can promise a true and honest attempt.

i want to learn how to write. i've been told time after time that the only way to learn is to just do it, over and over and over. so this is my attempt. i'll attempt to write a little every day, just to get it out there in the world. just to practice the art of discipline in writing and work my writing voice out a little. please bear with me.

this is me...

things i like...

sunny fall days that mean i can leave the front door open and let the crisp, clean air liven up the house a bit. wool socks fitting snug-ly in my worn in moccasins. riding my bike down lake street late at night when no cars are around and the road is mine. wine and candles and cheese and chocolate. smoking a cigarette in the brisk night, pretending i'm sitting on my roof in a much more simple time in my life. traveling on my own; walking through the airport without knowing a single person and yet being surrounded by hundreds of people all smiling and hugging and crying and fiddling with luggage and chasing their children and waiting impatiently in lines, lines and more lines. feeling the scaly, wet legs of my turtle fit perfectly around my hand as i lift redford from his bath. morning yoga with my kenyan chai tea at daybreak, knowing i have the whole day ahead of me. warm baths before bed. cruising past other bikers on my commute to work. purple mums. long walks around my neighborhood that make me feel independent and free.

things i dislike...

getting rained on while biking to work and then working an 8hour shift in damp jeans and soggy shoes. sticky countertops. answering my cell phone, making a call on my cell phone, or really- just talking on my phone. cars that speed past me on my bike only to be stopped at a red light, where they've pulled so close to the curb i can no longer squeeze through to make it to the intersection. emptying redford's food dish to discover a thousand small mites milling around under the lettuce and tofu. interacting with my boss. an empty refrigerator. disappointing my parents. loan collectors. when guys at work offer to help me lift a case of eggs. feeling small and insignificant because my life isn't as "cool" as the people around me.