May 18th, 2005

Blast From the Past

Today I had an under-the-weather Bean in tow, reminding me of the days when I was doing that regularly. It's a shame she missed her class's splash party, but I'll admit to enjoying the opportunity to take good care of her, which included A) keeping the A/C in Old Red on full blast and pointed towards her car seat, even though I normally turn the fan off when stopped in traffic; B) letting her rifle through my desk drawer while attempting to talk to J about his prelims; C) chasing her down the hall in Modern Languages when she'd had enough with rules and restrictions; D) helping her to use the bathroom with dignity and then running her a baking soda bath; E) curling up on the sofa with her to watch Winnie the Pooh videos; F) bringing her lots of "homemade" Gatorade and saltines; G) encouraging her to bring "Eau Claire Pooh" out to the sofa to join us in our viewing festivities; H) rejoining her on the sofa this evening to watch three Little Bear videos, which always remind me of those dark times when she was perpetually unhappy and the world of Little Bear provided a refuge into which I could imagine us escaping; I) letting her sit on my head, punch me, kick me, roll on top of me, and otherwise abuse me as a way of letting off steam while I made a series of horrible sounds underneath her writhing form. I didn't get much done today, but I feel a lot more grounded than I have in weeks. Coupled with the pleasures of yesterday's lunch, dinner, and recital, the last 48 hours have done wonders for my psyche.

Dumb Metaphors Speak

I love to make metaphors. But much of my intellectual development has consisted of learning when not to make them. Every day I come up with ones that I reject for being too risky. What I'm starting to realize, though, is that the rejects frequently have more power in them than they ones I permit myself to voice. Sometimes it seems that the dumber the metaphor is, the more likely it is to call forth interesting trains of thought. Failure has a way of succeeding where success falls short.

Since I'm in the middle of a long, exhausting struggle to find a voice I'm willing to prefix with the first-person singular possessive pronoun, I've decided that I'm going to make an effort to redeem some of the metaphors I would otherwise reject here in the one place I do not hesitate to call my own. The filter is hereby switched off.
  • Current Music
    The Answer - Bloc Party - Bloc Party EP