sending me spinning

If I were H.A.L., I would exclaim, "Dave...something wonderful is happening..."

I surf the web way too much, I will admit it. But it's worth it, when you stumble across that *one* idea, or person, or thing, or enterprise that gives you that big, giant boost that you had been long needing.

Stumble I did: look what I'm going to do!



Granted, I'm not going to look like these lovely Hoopnotica ladies for quite a while as I do it. But I think I'm on to something big here. I ordered a kit from Hoopnotica containing two hoops - one for myself, and one for my daughter, who is equally entranced and eager to begin with me. It also has the basic instructional DVD teaching some moves with the hoop so that you're dancing, and not just twirling it around your waist. This ain't your grandma's hula hoop. Unless you have a rad grandma -- I won't discount that.

My hopes for this undertaking: well, it's dance, and I can't say no to yet another dance form (long story, that one). But I am blown away by the potential that exists for me to connect with my daughter in a way that we can both be passionate about, and not just pretending to like it to please the other. (If you're a mom, you know how that works.)

My daughter doesn't have weight issues, thankfully, but she is so frustrated at her P.E. class. I marvel at how ridiculous it is that they make her class run laps (in the desert sun!) when they *know* that most of the kids have known little exercise in their lives. What kind of motivation is that to get fit? It's downright painful, if not dangerous. So I think that hooping with her is going to give her some confidence in situations like that, but more importantly, give us time to appreciate our together in a simple but incredibly fun way.

And oh, yeah, there's those extra pounds I've been wanting to drop...

In any case, we are still on vacation, and the kit I ordered awaits us back home. Suspense! We can't stop talking about hooping - it's kind of weird and obsessive of us, and the rest of the family is a bit put off, but they'll get it later when we're two superfit cuties walking around being...cute and superfit. And all slithery-cool and stuff.

it's supposed to be vacation...

...but today is a certified *bad day*. Being a mom is never easy, but this is one of those I-feel-trampled-upon days for me in my role of mother.

I asked my daughter (9 years old) the quick, easy favor of folding and stacking the tiniest load of laundry mankind has ever seen....some clothes of hers, some underwear and socks of mine, and a small towel. Since I walked away to do something else, I failed to notice until much later that she'd neatly folded and stacked her things, took my things, rolled them up into a ball, wrapped the ball with the towel, and stuffed the whole wad into the crevice between sofa armrest and cushion.

Then she went off swimming at the neighbour's. I feel like sending her home from vacation early. Better yet, send her to Algeria, my husband's home country...then she'll see what doing laundry is like in a third world country.

Hey, it's my blog, and I'll vent if I want to.

Carry on.

a peek into my mind

I am a child of the eighties. Especially when it comes to music. (So sue me!) The more obscure and new-romantic, the better. (Not the Top 40 stuff, no way - death to the trendies! Heh heh.)

I wouldn't say I'm "stuck" in the eighties...I do listen to current things, although I'm impossibly picky about music. They definitely don't make it like they used to.

There's an obscure, new romantic eighties song out there for every possible mood in which I might find myself. Right now, it's a Visage kind of day, so I hope you'll join me in some deliciously morose, languishing poser sublimeness. Eyeliner optional.

( Artist: Visage Track: The Damned Don't Cry)

send out some love!

I know I don't command the biggest audience with this blog, but I wanted to request that you send your good wishes, love, support, warm fuzzies, and any other positive mojo you might have to my friend Fraise, who suffers the death of a very beloved cat today. As a major cat person myself, I can tell you, that hits hard.

My other reason for calling attention to her blog is that she's an interesting blogger, and CoolPeople (TM), and the kind of deep-thinking person you wished lived in your neighbourhood so you could hang out. Although she is an American living in France, take note, my Japanese-speaking friends, that she nihon-go o yoku dekimasu.

We should probably give her some down time before expecting new posts at her blog, but do drop a line, and tell her I sent you. In the meantime, I'd better start a blogroll! Fraise gets to be first.

grad school, ahoy mateys!

Too bad it's not International Talk Like A Pirate Day today. But that will undoubtedly be a fun day, if I manage to spend it with *grad school colleagues*, whoo hoo!

This story got started when the ballet shoe shop I worked in closed down, forcing me to contemplate on my life, its meaning, and the coveted but germ-covered green pieces of paper that would no longer be flowing my way at all (even in their usual insufficiency).

Yes, indeedy, it was time to get a life.

It was often suggested to me, since I'm fluent in the French language, that I should be doing something with French besides scolding my misbehaving child. Innovative thought!

Here's the rest of the story, in a nutshell:
1) Spoke to a schoolteacher about teacher certification. She recommended a local program in a small school.

2) I looked into, and applied to, said local program.

3) Director of said program responded that I am lacking sufficient credit hours in French in my college transcript, which is the only thing that counts despite my having lived in France for 9 years. Alrighty then.

4) I went hunting for places I could earn credit hours in French without falling asleep. The only local class I could find available at my level was in this tiny place somewhere a bit to the south of chez moi. Heard of it? ;)

5) Myself and spousal unit decided if I'm going to bother to go to down there at all, I should do all of my studies there. He said, in fact, that I shoulda gone there in the first place. Spousal unit carries heavy influence, seein' that he's also the main finance unit n' stuff. Plus he's a cool kinda spousal unit.

6) I wholeheartedly agreed with cool spousal/financial unit, and cheerily set about hunting for graduate degree programs. Yay, I'm getting a life!

At the moment, it's too late to apply to the specific programs that interest me. Not only is the deadline past, but I need time to speak with advisors and all that. So I'm going to just apply as non-degree, start with a course or two to get my feet wet, and apply that course to whatever program accepts me.

Here's where I need your input, O ye linguists, teachers of foreign languages and ESL teachers. Or just plain O ye smart, reasonable people with something to say about it. French Linguistics Masters program, or Masters of Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages?

I have to say that I love linguistics, and looked into a strictly linguistics program, but all they have is a PhD program that takes 84 credit hours of work and probably more funding than even the coolest of spousal units might have on hand in the tuition budget.

I'm open to other options as well, but given that I have a B.A. in International Communication, I'm not prepared to start over with Geology or the like, as fun as that sounds. If I had unlimited funds and time, I would just collect degrees...but those germ-covered green pieces of paper are ever calling me back to reality. Stupid little things they are.

So talk to me! Suggest! Naysay! Strongly urge! Posit questions! Pontificate! I'm all ears.