hit and miss

My weekend was going to be awesome; now as it’s winding down, it was more mildly entertaining. I put teaching and grants out of my mind and started of with a little prop 8 protesting in volunteer park. I decided to walk from Ravenna, since it was such a nice morning, and on the way a friend apparently almost ran me over. Of course, I didn’t notice: I was in my head, probably thinking about the crunch of the leaves or some other innocuous detail about my surroundings.

The protest was great. There were at least a few thousand people there and lot of good signs. I caught up with my friend and ran in to a few others in the crowd. I eventually made my way back home and off to Kirkland for Elle’s swim meet. She was in two events and did very well in both. Afterwards, I planned on going to a faculty party to chat with colleagues, but it was a bit too late and their party was winding down.

Instead, I went home and watched Malcolm X. It started off with a scene where Malcolm was getting his hair straightened and it seemed awfully familiar. I fast forwarded through the first 45 minutes and realized at some point in the past decade, I’d seen it before. I jumped ahead another hour though and none of it was familiar. When did I have a chance to watch the first third and nothing else? It must have been some late night at a hotel while traveling.

Sunday was a little less engaging. I had grand plans to escape the city with a friend in search of small bakeries and comfort food, but I checked my email this morning around 7 and she’d come down with something unpleasant. Instead, I spent my morning doing laundry, cleaning my bathroom, shopping for a hat and walking in Ravenna park. I watched happy couples play with their kids in the grass and friends practicing tae bo in the park and suddenly felt gravely lonely. Just a few years ago, that was me, with my ex and my daughter. I’d felt so secure, had so much hope. There are some days where I’ve got all the energy in the world to rebuild my life; on others, it seems like an impossible task.

So I came home, listened to some Pink Floyd and Blonde Redhead and drowned myself in “Reinforcement, Reward and Intrinsic Motivation: A Meta-Analysis.” There’s nothing like a far afield journal article to improve my mood!

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