I Wasted Yesterday

Yesterday I had nothing to do. Or at least I thought I had nothing to do. So that, instead of finishing taking down tree ornaments (Master Shih Cheng-Yen’s Still Thought # 68: Stopping halfway is more difficult and tiring than progressing toward reaching the final goal), or of cross-checking the list of students who showed up in my classroom yesterday with the official list released by the registrar, I:

watched Match Point, which Blockbuster has been calling about for a week now (I think I rented it before Christmas)

had lunch with Tita I and cousin M at Hotaru in San Mateo

e-mailed editor at SF Chronicle to ask for extension on book review due Saturday

watched As the World Turns

Today I realize the error of my ways.

This morning, bright and early, zipped off e-mail to son with advice about unmentionable predicament. Then, was suddenly seized with a manic energy and e-mailed all the students who showed up in my class Monday. Finally, made the following resolutions (to do before or after class at xxxxx community college, preferably before):

to return Match Point to Blockbuster forthwith (execrable waste of time, should never have been lulled into thinking Woody Allen had improved over last lame effort, but paid too much attention to Stanford niece’s opinion)

to buy cookies from Vivaldi‘s

to drop by Trader Joe‘s to purchase bananas/ pesto sauce/ raisins

to meet with students individually before class (have no time to prepare lesson plan; hope manic energy and SMILES will compensate for lack of organization)

to meet with former foster family (assigned to me when still brand new International Student at Stanford) who are in their eighties now and practically house-bound

to buy carrot cake (if time before dinner)

Let’s see, what am I forgetting?

Oh, right! Have to teach class at xxxxxx community college from 1 to 4. Mustn’t forget THAT. Especially since was so lucky to have escaped budget axe in spite of class having abysmally low enrollment (need to give out more A’s!). Promised students a quiz. On the syllabus, of all things. Have no idea why I said that but must follow through or will suffer immediate loss of authority which tends to turn little darlings/students vicious (same effect observed in animals — by Descartes? There must always be a top dog.)

Okee dokee, must get a move on or will have no time to accomplish all before hubby returns for dinner tonight 🙂

Spoke Too Soon!

I’m reading over my blog of this morning. There I am waxing poetic about “the lull” in my life. Ha, ha, ha. I’m forgetting about the others in my life.

Such as son.

That oh-so-thoughtful phone call of this morning? How was I to know that was only a preamble to the second stuttering phone call of this evening, where he hemmed and hawed and hemmed and hawed some more until I was practically screaming, WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?

There were of course all those phone calls he made to a mysterious someone over the holidays, calls he made on his cell phone while standing in the front yard, his face a veritable myriad of shifting expressions. And the phone call in the car on the way to the City to see the Union Square tree, the one which caused him to say, “I’m with my Mom. Call you back later.”

Son, didn’t you think your mom would be watching from the window while you stood out there oblivious to the cold? Didn’t I know when we got to Union Square and you told me to “go ahead”, you’d catch up with me, that there was someone mysterious and important in your life?

But it’s really not that you want to talk about, but something else, which is guaranteed to give hubby a coronary.

(At this point, I must desist from writing further, dear blog reader. To quote the robot babysitter from a TV show of my childhood, Lost in Space: “Danger, Will Smith, Danger!” Or, as Gao Xinjian so trenchantly put it in One Man’s Bible: “Danger springs from the mouth.”)

Anyway, hubby came home. I pretended to be ill and stayed curled up on the sofa. Peeking under the blanket, I saw him switching back and forth between a college basketball game and Rome, so that I got terribly dizzy with whirling images of basketball hoops and chariots.

Then, I must have fallen asleep because I had a dream, and the dream was this: I dreamt that hubby and I lived on a hilltop above San Luis Obispo. And for dinner I took my tray out to the backyard where, spread below me, were all the houses of the city, and I saw that on and on, stretching to the horizon, were a plethora of tract homes. And hubby and I (in the dream) were congratulating ourselves on the foresight and planning which enabled us to snag this fortuitously placed house on top of a hill. Then I thought, wait a minute, hubby would never ever shell out $600,000 for a split-level house on a hill! What is wrong with this picture? And then I woke up.

Vanity Fair came in the mail today. Demi Moore is on the cover. Flipping through the pages I catch sight of a vaguely familiar face, and, just as I thought, the caption confirms that it is indeed John “Cougar” Mellencamp. Who I used to love. But why oh why has he morphed into William H. Macy?

I have been saying things like this a lot lately. I’ll be watching TV, and I’ll say, “Good Lord! What happened to that anchorman? He looks terrible!”

And then I’ll realize he’s grown old. Which means, since everyone I know is piling on the wrinkles, the same must be happening to me.

The only exceptions to this process being: the aforementioned Ms. Moore, local newswoman Wendy Tokuda, and maybe Carly Simon, who is still pretty, if only she would lose the beret she wore this morning on Good Morning, America, and get over the shag haircut.

Hubby has consented to switch channels to the People’s Choice Awards and there’s Robin Williams, looking adorably excited over his award. Hey, I’d be excited too if I won over Adam Sandler and Will Ferrell.

Stay tuned.

A Lull. A Snag. Whatever.

There’s a lull. You experience these moments of almost hysterical energy and then everything comes to a stop and you just sit. And sit. And sit.

Which is what I’m doing right now. In front of big flat-screen HDTV.

Last night, dutifully taped BCS Bowl game (LSU vs. Ohio State, and if you don’t know what those initials mean then you are not interested in football anyway and can skip this whole section) for hubby, who was coming home late.

Found out after teaching my first class at xxxxxx community college that enrollments were way down, that in fact many English classes had been cancelled. Briefly shaken when looking at my class list to see only 15 names, but was reassured I would have heard from Dean if my class was in danger. Went home, congratulating myself on my good fortune. Since in a celebratory mood, ordered take-out Vietnamese food.

It was cold when I went out to pick up the food (Could have ordered from Waiters-on-Wheels, in which case I could have remained snugly in front of TV, but again cheapskate tendency surfaced and I thought I could save a few bucks by going out myself.). The result was that I felt very cold and by the time I arrived back home with food in steaming styrofoam containers, felt ill.

This morning there’s e-mail from my brother who spent New Year’s in Hong Kong with his family, in their fantastic, pristine apartment on McDonnell Road, overlooking Victoria Harbour. He tells me they had a spectacular New Year, there was a party down on Central by the Star Ferry, he took his kids again and again on this thing called “The Destructor” (As I try and picture this fantastical machine, in my mind’s eye, I too imagine I’m feeling nauseated, dizzy) and won “loads” of big stuffed toys.

I e-mail another cousin in the Philippines, who wrote all about the fun she had with an uncle and aunt who were visiting from San Francisco, and I tell her I have not much contact with said uncle and aunt because they never return my calls. Afterwards, regret having said that, feel sure cousin will think I am “weird.” But feel that I must begin the New Year with absolute honesty, no more kowtowing and making “nice nice” and saying things that aren’t true (even though it would certainly make my life a lot easier if I kept saying things that aren’t true).

Horoscope for the day, which feels very apt to my situation at the moment:

“You experience the consequences of past behavior.”

!!@@##

Just finish typing the above when phone rings and it’s son, calling from San Luis Obispo. Says he can’t talk very long, he’s with a friend but just called “to say hi.” It’s not even 9 AM, mind you. Either he has ESP or he’s been reading my blog. Decide he must have ESP because I hadn’t even posted the above when he called.

Resolve to put aside all negativity today and spend some time in the garden. Hyacinth bulbs I bought from Roger Reynolds Nursery TWO MONTHS AGO have sprouted the most incredible roots, and all I’ve done was leave them outside on a patio table, still in their plastic baggies. Time to start planting …

Ahh, Monday …

It’s the first day of a new quarter at xxxxxxx community college.

Woke up bright and early at 3:30 AM. Read.

Ah, what joy, what bliss. (Except: it’s now 9:08 AM, and hubby is still here. Would ask him if there’s a problem, but fear he might answer me. Bumped me off the net an hour ago — as you know, this household is stricly LO-TECH, still relying on Speedstream modem instead of going wireless like the rest of humanity — and said he had to look for jobs. This was after getting fully dressed, and seemed on the point of leaving. OK, I settled myself down in front of TV to watch the news. Learned there is an atrocious smell wafting all over Manhattan. Heard about dead birds dropping from the sky over Austin. Muted TV to hear if hubby still on computer. Started to get bored with TV, so started munching on salami. “Hubby, are you still on?” I ask. “Yes!” he yells back. I start in on avocado that’s slowly going over-ripe in the vegetable bin. Eventually, after three cookies and a glass of OJ I squeezed myself, hear him slink into the bathroom. Check on the line; it’s lying on the hallway, free at last. Pounce on it as if it were precious blood diamond. Re-connect myself and here I am again with you — voila!!)

Unfortunately, also seem to have lost the thread of my earlier post, which was going to be about serendipitous discovery of yummy sale at L’Occitane. Oh, well!

Have a long three-hour class today, so decide to slather some therapeutic gel which dear Mum got for me from Manila Chinatown on my neck and shoulders, since Biofreeze which I’d been using was confiscated in DECEMBER by kindly security guard at San Jose Int’l, for being over the 8 (or was it 4?) oz. limit. Hope this works and doesn’t inflame skin; it would be a bad time to find out but it’s too late, I’ve already applied it.

Now, wondering if I still want to blog about L’Occitane or not.

Before being kicked off the net, was chuckling over the impishness of looking at L’Occitane sale (75% off for Bust Gel guaranteed to firm and tone! Or for Clinically Proven Shaping Gel, made up of natural proteins, caffeine, and “oils of Immortelle”!) while supposedly perfecting my syllabus. Now, feel it is too heartless of me to be chuckling over ANYTHING when hubby so obviously in depression.

Mantra for the day, which I hope I will remember even while I am in classroom today: Perfection exists only in your imagination, perfection exists only in your imagination, perfection exists only in your imagination.

Daily Horoscope 2

Today my horoscope says: “Try not to become irritable.” Pretty cryptic, that.

Need additional elaboration from Sage Master Shih Cheng-Yen.

Still Thought # 41 goes:

Many drops of water make a river, many grains of rice make a large basket; do not underestimate your own potential, and do not think of any good deed as too small to do.

Resolve to say nothing but these exact same words for the rest of the day. Anticipate having the following possible exchanges:

Possible Conversation # 1:

Hubby: “When are you going to sell a book so that I can quit this job that is making me so miserable?”

Self: “Many drops of water make a river.”

Possible Conversation # 2:

Son: “When are we going to the City to see the big Christmas tree in Union Square?”

Self: “Many grains of rice make a large basket.”

Fortunately, I had an opportunity to put this resoultion into practice this morning, shortly after hubby got up:

Actual Conversation # 1:

Hubby: “You fell asleep with the TV on last night. I had to come out to the living room to close it.”

Self: “Do not underestimate your own potential.”

Hubby: “What?”

Actual Conversation # 2:

Hubby: “Why is the remote not working?”

Self: “Do not think of any good deed as too small to do.”

Hubby: (snorting with disgust) What?

EXCELLENT.

Still Thoughts

This is the title of a little pamphlet that contains a list of exhortations (98, to be exact) by Master Shih Cheng-Yen of the Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation in the Philippines (If you want the telephone number, I can provide it for you, but that’s all the information I have on said foundation).

How I came to acquire this pamphlet is an interesting story– and at this point I can’t blame you, loyal blog reader, if you think this blog is beginning to resemble the 1,001 tales of Scheherazade (!!) but I assure you this post DOES have a point–!!

Two years ago, in August, I found myself in Manila. Or, to be exact, I found myself in the Philippines’ National Book Fair, in some expo building in an area of reclaimed land behind the edifice of the Cultural Center. I was there with trusty sidekick, none other than Irene, the cook. I was wearing print pajamas — well, not really pajamas, but if I’d worn them anywhere else but in Manila, people would invariably have said I was wearing my nightclothes. Kind mum had bought them for me at some farmer’s market and these wonderfully colorful clothes were a top and pants decorated with a print of exotic parrots. But, who cares, no one knows me in Manila, right? Or they all THINK they know me but all they know is the girl who left 25 years ago and I’m at least 20 pounds heavier. So, not to put too fine a point on it, I am nothing close to the girl I was. To repeat: no one knows me in Manila.

Within two steps of the car, I hear a cheerful “Hi, Marianne!” and it’s actually a writer. A writer I know! Who would have thought! And, three steps after that, another “Hi, Marianne!” And this time it’s an editor.

And I swear that after this I’m never going to be caught dead wearing a pantsuit with exotic parrot prints. But, too late, so I plaster a grin on my face and wander the (very interesting) booths.

At one stall, a kindly older woman (oh, all right, maybe she’s MY age) takes me by the elbow. Is this a writer and/or editor and/or famous person who flatters me by actually knowing who I, parrot-clad visiting-from-the-US writer, am? She begins to talk to me about how wonderful my complexion is. I’m such an idiot that I actually believe her. Then, ever so carefully, she steers me in front of a poster. And there, emblazoned in words two inches high, are — you guessed it!– the STILL THOUGHTS of Master Shih Cheng-Yen.

And at this point, oh loyal blog reader, I must be really confused because these thoughts do actually begin to make a weird kind of sense.

Take, for instance, this one, Still Thought no. 32:

There are two things in life that cannot wait: fulfilling filial piety and doing good deeds.

Which I’m thinking about this morning (and how, you ask yourself, do I manage to remember the words of Wise Master two years later? Do you even have to ASK, dear reader???), because I’ve just placed a call to Manila, and dear Mum has asked me to send her something so esoteric that I have to scratch my head to figure it out, then do a search of Amazon.com which produces 1345 entries, and anyway I’m totally broke and am about to leave for Washington, DC with maybe $40 in my wallet, unless check arrives TOMORROW from kind magazine editors (ANY magazine editors, beggars can’t be choosers after all). Mum helpfully pointed out, “Don’t you have a credit card?” Which I do, of course, but I really really just wanted to use it for ESSENTIALS, such as the cab from the airport to my hotel, and meals for myself.

But, I am forgetting to be STILL! To practice FILIAL thoughts! Such is the road to true wisdom, to true HAPPINESS!

Stay tuned …

Daily Horoscope

Today, I have a PLAN. Daily horoscope says: “Put some of your compassion to good use.”

Am half-asleep still, (only 6:37 AM!) but look forward to a day exercising my “compassion” (which, let me tell ya, sometimes feels in very short supply after a whole day spent with my little darlings in xxxxx community college).

Whatever. Promise to do my best to fulfill horoscope’s exhortation.

Now looking forward with some anticipation to the day (whereas a few moments ago all I wanted to do was crawl right back under the blankets and forget there was ever such a thing as English 1A). The day before me a blank text, on which I will choose to exercise ONLY certain responses, the “compassionate” ones. Hope this is good feng-shui or whatever, perhaps will be rewarded with happiness, fame, and/or money and Jimmy Choos–!!!

Looking over things I KNOW I have to do today:

(1) Drop off dogs at San Carlos Pet Hospital, where they will board while hubby and I drive down to San Luis Obispo.

Compassion rating (on a scale of 1 to 5): O, because little tykes will be stuck in metal cage over the long weekend and I know Gracie will be howling and trembling like crazy, seeing as she now has very BAD memories of the place from her mastectomy a month ago

(2) Pick up rental car from Thrifty counter at San Francisco airport

Compassion rating (on a scale of 1 to 5): Also O, because strictly business transaction

(3) Ask hubby if he wants me to pack him a lunch today

Compassion rating (on a scale of 1 to 5): Probably 2. Only takes me three minutes to prepare a sandwich.

Stay tuned!