Blaaarrgh!

All in the name of higher education

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 14:00:00 +0000

I just signed up for Facebook. To explain folk groups. Seriously.

>_<;

Rainin' an' pourin'

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Mon, 06 Aug 2007 13:57:00 +0000

So... after working for four days on the application letter to beat all application letters... after we arrived home last night, the laptop wouldn't start. No power will move to anything. This... is very unfortunate. We will get the data back, but not until Wednesday. Ah, a nice relaxing weekend shattering around me like a dream upon waking. We are crossing our fingers that the Mac can actually be repaired--it could be one of three cheap things to fix, potentially.

Update: After spending every moment practically since rising being really annoyed and grumpy, for some reason chatting on the phone with my mother-in-law and eating chocolate almond chocolate chip ice cream while doing so has improved my mood immensely. Task: letter, creatively revived somehow from the sleepy brain that produced it in the first place. Yossha.

Reflections

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 03:26:00 +0000

It was with a curious sense of heaviness in my chest, a kind of tightness, breathlessness, that I left the house today to go do some shopping. The utterly mundane—groceries. We eat pizza now at least weekly. It’s funny. Ironic. Frozen ones cost only half, even a third of the delivery price.

I caught myself wandering in my head, down the side street near our apartment with the temple whose bells used to sound so regularly, a gentle reminder of the time on the days when I refused to get up, sleeping in as late as I could, lounging persistently under the sheets until the futon refused to give me any more comfort.

And I realized something—I don’t wander much these days searching for hidden treasures, out of the way shops, or ancient shrines closeted secretly between a side alley and a beauty parlor. Part of it is of course due to the baby, and her rigid schedule—one cannot wander for hours, when a gap of an hour and a half is all that is allowed in leaving the house, and returning back to the quiet of the nursery again. One cannot wander freely when there are so many needs to be continually considered. One cannot indulge quiet reflection while gazing upon the passing scenery, while simultaneously checking to see that the baby has not dropped her juice, or if the sun is not too bright in her eyes. But perhaps the number one uncontrollable factor is simply that my own feet will not carry me so far—if there are wonders to be found, they are stretched out sparsely through houses that have been stretched as far apart as possible— wandering requires a car.

I find this to be a great disappointment. We lived four years relying on public transportation between cities, and either walked or rode our mama-charis for everything else. And after the first winter, skidding around on the snow, I largely gave up the mamachari for my own secure feet. Walking draws out the details, gives one an intimacy with the streets, its hidden corners, its shady groves, its mysterious grottoes.

For a time, I tell myself. For a time will I be constrained to this inactivity, this secludedness. But I am afraid, so terribly afraid that I have lost my vision, lost my feet.

I go out with a group of people I have never met before, and my husband, tired from a long day, stays home with the baby. We eat, we laugh, we go get coffee. The mood is relaxed, unhurried, unfettered by foolish things like schedules and responsibilities. For a moment, I remember what my life used to be. I recall life lived with an ability for impromptu adventure. But I have parked in a place with time limits. How very aware of me, to provide myself the means of escape should company become tiresome. It didn’t, though as I drove home, listening to a favorite song over and over again, I was struck by how very different my current circumstances are from my previous company.

In ten years, will I regard what I have written here now as infantile as I consider the things I wrote and did ten years ago now to be? Can I even acknowledge the immature past as a source of anything except lessons learned, and thank-god-they-are-done-with-now? And what of this present moment? It feels real enough, this yearning for mystery, and the persistent niggle that perhaps I should do more to reflect on the work that I swore to finish by summer’s end, and less time shielding myself from this state by creatively fantasizing. I like to think that’s how I charge my batteries. Maybe it is simply how I channel frustration.

So, I went shopping, and I did buy frozen pizzas. I also bought condoms, and felt my cheeks burn—as if somehow a person who has already borne a child has to be secretive about such things! But I spotted something in the deli, and with a sudden lightness, I had discovered a little something delightful. The tension fled. Afterward, with as little effort as opening a door, I got a video card at the movie rental place. I hardly even had to think; had I been putting it off so long for fear of miscommunication?

Good for grilling, it said. Not this time. My discovery turned into sashimi. And it was very, very good. And we watched a real movie, curled up on the couch together. It was a small, but somehow very satisfying deviation from the dull routine.

Handouzan still mocks me for my hesitance, the Yasugawa is listening to me sing the Anchor Song, and Sawayama draws me like a lure. They are far from me now, and at times, achingly so. The nighttime ride past Hikone-jo, changing with the seasons, I fly on the bicycle beneath me, and the lights on the dark water are magic; the trees wrap the place up and it is open to my imagination. I cannot forget these things. I will not.

But tomorrow, I may take up wandering again.

WHEW!

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Sat, 31 Mar 2007 17:47:00 +0000

The last few weeks have been very stressful, especially as we had no idea how the bills were going to get paid over the summer, and of course, the tightrope-walking anxiety about funding.

But yesterday, Security Husband landed a full time summer job, with potential extending into the school year. This week, he was told in passing that he is one of the students in most high demand to be an AI in the department. (He goes to VA week after next to defend the thesis. At last!! Wish him luck!)

That left me feeling a wee bit useless, but I received a letter today--I am an alternate for AIing in the fall, so that may pan out (as I know someone who will not be able to accept her AIship). Woohoo! I'm not so useless after all! It looks like I will also be taking Japanese in the fall, possibly, depending on the test, landing in the translation and reading course. Heaven help me. Language was supposed to be my "easy" course! >_<;!

And as of a few minutes ago, I have submitted my abstracts to present in the fall at the American Folklore Society annual meeting in Quebec (city), as part of a panel on children's folklore. I am breathless with excitement, like I have done something incredibly daring and foolhardy. Now I have to figure out funding to get me up there.

This means mega-planning for next semester, though I intend to do some gardening this summer, and taste the joys of full time child-care. Hanging out with baby will be more and more fun--she is almost crawling now.And I might have a reading list I can get through! I can scarcely fathom such things. Maybe we can even get baby into a normal schedule so she will sleep at regular times. Ideally, we can figure out day-care things, too.

But first, these other papers and research must get finished. Three weeks and counting??? Help!!!

But if I COULD, I would.

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Thu, 08 Mar 2007 05:19:00 +0000

Further questions... because I can't very well add them to the essay that now walks as undead among us... Q. To what extent does cross-cultural comparison figure into non-academic discourse? Is it used responsibly? Q.What affect do the theories and uses of CCC in academic discourse affect non-academic discourse and popular approaches to comparison? Q. Would it be correct to say that CCC is most often used to deleterious ends as opposed to positive ones? Q. Could Lévi-Strauss’s formula be taken and used to prove that myths expand spiral-wise in a Fibonacci Sequence?

Confessional

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Sat, 03 Mar 2007 05:03:00 +0000

Obviously, perhaps, I switched my name back to something vaguely not mine. Yes, anyone with a care will find out who I am. Do I fear to write things I fear may be watched? Well... yes, to a certain degree. For example, there can be no sharing with you all out and abroad about opinions I may have about class, and I already edit out quite a lot so I don't just use this place as a public soapbox for whining.

But sometimes I wonder how dishonest it is not to let you all know out there, those of you who are reading this to stay actually informed about us, that sometimes stuff is tough, and there is nothing I want more than a patient ear to hear me go off on one.

Lately, things have been busy, and stressful, and difficult. In some ways, I feel like I hardly have room to whine. I have people I know who are balancing what seems like a ridiculous amount of work, and I feel almost ashamed for wanting to cry and whine about how hard my life is. I struggle with a lot of resentment for people who don't seem to get how time-consuming parenting is. Especially since baby isn't the type to just go down for the night. Especially when we don't have baby in daycare, and likely won't until she hits a year. How an hour or two a day is hardly time enough for getting work done. How I am actually a really damn good student, a good researcher... if only I have the time to do it. When I have an hour to sort my thoughts, I feel like I regain some of my sanity, my enthusiasm for my subject matter... I wanted very strongly last semester to not have any exceptions made for me. I got all my work in on time, no begging for extensions. (Straight As, for what it matters in grad school.) I am trying to maintain the same attitude this semester, largely because I feel like I have fewer excuses.

But it doesn't stop me from getting really frustrated. Whether it is giving my all for a class I am not taking for credit and getting my feelings hurt over teacher favoritism, or wanting to scream at my time limitations--how can I bloody research a seminar paper if I have virtually no time to go the library? ...No one ever promised me this would be easy. I am planning on going back full time next semester, and this excites and terrifies me. In a way, I will luck out--I am going to be making a third of the courses LANGUAGE.

I am going to take Japanese. I am going to love it. Then I am going to take CLASSICAL Japanese, and love it. And maybe at some point, I will stop feeling so homesick.

Because that is the other part. The feeling of disconnect hasn't stopped. We are making some friends here, and are attending church, though our involvement doesn't feel like much yet. And the few warm days have me thinking of nothing but Japan. I miss the sweet smell of ume on the breeze, promising spring. The thought of a springtime without sakura makes me want to cry, the same way autumn without momiji felt empty. But I can't reverse time, nor can I return to the spots I left--the space I occupied is no longer available. The situation has completely changed. If I returned, say, to Minakuchi, what on earth would I do there? I know every road of that town walking. Or Hikone? The plum trees in the mysterious garden I never asked to enter, in the historical samurai house... they must be starting to bloom now. All my former students are growing up, and I am not getting to see it. But I would not return to that, either. I yearn for a place that has no place for me.

Someone once asked me if I was homesick for Japan, did that mean that I thought of it as home? ... I wish it were that simple. Like all things, it is suffused with profound ambivalence. What I miss is not what I despised when I lived there. What I yearned for here is not what makes me furious and frightened when I read the news.

At night, often as I feed the baby to sleep, I am swept away in vivid nightmares, waking dreams that reveal to me my powerlessness to protect the tiny creature who is my greatest gift. Is this a lack of faith? At such times I feel that being separated from my child would throw me into complete despair, total desperation. Is this instinct nature's way of assuring the protection of young? Will it lessen in intensity as she grows older, more capable of protecting herself? If I succumb to the fear, I will only create in her a dependency that I do not desire for her.

I am beginning to doubt my goals again. I thought this was what I wanted, to be back in school, to be studying this. But sitting in class, abstracting things which are real into theories, I grow frustrated. Was this what I wanted? Oftentimes it seems like everyone else has the right background for this work, and I don't. I don't even really know what I want to research. I have my interests. But my insights feel juvenile and unseasoned. More than ever, the question of applicability burns in me. The academy seems caught up in completely useless things. Is this some throwback to the academy as a place for the rich to find topics to fritter away their time? I feel like I need inspiration, and I need it fast, before I reject this whole pointless enterprise with a "So what?" I wanted to understand things. People. Culture. But I don't see anyone trying to understand, only make material another step again inaccessible and removed.

Some photos, at last!

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Sat, 27 Jan 2007 18:45:00 +0000

Pirate_Harper.JPG
Originally uploaded by t_k3ttl3.

We had a pretty crazy break (FAR too much travelling!), but now we are back to the routine of classes again! I am full of the best of intentions about posting more. But for now, pictures will have to suffice!

Adventures in Going Crazy

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Wed, 29 Nov 2006 02:08:00 +0000

Today was a bit out of the ordinary.

To summarize the last long while since we have posted, life has been kind of hectic between organizing baby handoffs, doing daily loads of laundry, dealing with colic and reflux, staying abreast of school things including papers, AIing, transportation to and from locations... but we did get to go home for Thanksgiving holidays, and three cheers for grad school, three cheers for state school- we left on Tuesday, and came back Monday morning. I plowed through two books, plus a sizable chunk of another, plus some odd pages of one more... while Mom and Dad watched Harper. Free babysitting-- we got to actually -go out- to a movie, our first one out since the girl was born. (Casino Royale, quite a different Bond... but I am not doing movie reviews today.)

So, today. Security Husband left for class, and while I was doing some quick pickup around the living room, I noticed that I wasn't seeing very well. In fact, little blurry rainbows and flickering lights took up a big chunk of my vision. I called health services, and my mom. (She's never had migraines, I thought I might be getting one. The eye clinic said it sounded like I had an ocular migraine--the visual symptoms without the killer headache. My eyes did hurt; I had a mild headache, and I was sensitive to light. But I was also tired, from fussy baby the night before, so I figured what I needed was a nap.) Then, a half hour or so later, my hand and part of my face went numb. I called health services again; they said to come in. By now, I was kind of panicky. Long story short, after an exam, and two cat scans to make sure everything was okay (something I had never thought I would undergo, kind of like CHILDBIRTH), I am... normal. Maybe the new birth control triggered a migraine of sorts. But things were kind of tense for a while. (And this bill is going to suck. But, better safe than sorry.)

As a result of the CT scan (which used a contrast substance injected into my vein so that things would show up better), I can't breastfeed for fortyeight hours. This is making Harper VERY. ANGRY. She wants to be fed the way she likes, but I am tainted. Poor baby. Poor us.

I was kind of hoping that the end result of the cat scan would show that I have telekinesis, or some other sort of super power. If my vision was acting weird, maybe I could end up with, like, the ability to see in the dark, or into some ethereal universe. Sadly, all I have is a mild headache.

Curious and curiouser

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Tue, 31 Oct 2006 19:49:00 +0000

So, it looks like we can't vote. We were registered up north, but missed the cutoff to reregister here. So, I called today about absentee ballots, for which the cutoff was yesterday. But it turns out that if we were at our new address since before mid-October, we had to reregister anyway because our old registration wasn't valid. So witness, we have slipped through the cracks, because ... something. And while this is mostly our fault by way of 1) procrastination and 2) ignorance, I am finding myself irked that despite being registered up north, even if I hopped in a car and drove up there four hours to cast my vote, so that I could have some voice in this remarkably corrupt political system, it would be illegal. I really think the Australian system has something going for it.

I'm not quite certain I understand

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Fri, 13 Oct 2006 03:21:00 +0000

PICT0024.JPG
Originally uploaded by t_k3ttl3.

So,
It's been a month since Harper has been around, and things have been crazy, though that might be an understatement. My initial goals of parallel processing an awake baby at all hours of the night and having to work on graduate work at all hours of the night seems laughable now. Last week I had daily goals of send two emails or don't fall asleep in class; I felt they were realistic. The farther one travels, the less one really knows.

Flickr

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Fri, 13 Oct 2006 03:20:00 +0000

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Do the Beasts Have Large Talons?

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Mon, 02 Oct 2006 03:05:00 +0000

I am too tired to be writing, too tired to be clever, too tired to really be awake.

That said, I wanted to post a few thoughts on baby-having, that differ dramatically from How I Thought Things Would Be.

I looked in the mirror the morning after giving birth, gazed at my profile, and felt like a supermodel, baggy weird stretched-out belly and everything, because I felt that much thinner.

Then the milk came. Now I am from an A cup to a C cup, and I am WONDERWOMAN.

I gave the Ravenous Beast TALONS. Inadvertently, because her claws got trimmed inadvertently to points. She likes to poke herself in the eyeballs, and into my tender feeding mechanisms. So we had to clip this morning.

Our high horse trailed along forlornly after us for two weeks, when cloth diapers prevented the cord stump from drying out. So, we used disposables. For two weeks. Our trash TRIPLED. We pay by the bag here. Ouch. The doc sawed off her stump last Thursday, so by that evening, we started our cloth adventure. Wipes and diapers. I could go into the rationale, and argue with people who use disposables, but I shall summarize with: our room smells much nicer, I get to make dirty things clean again, and it is really not as hard as people would have you believe.

Newborns are like aliens. They don't get human for several weeks, I guess. Though her experimental expressions (mostly while attempting to figure out her plumbing) can be quite funny.

Pretty much all new babies look the same. I know she has my ears. The rest is a mystery, including eye color. I would recognize her in a crowd of newborns. But I don't expect anyone to exclaim, "What a cute baby!!!" because frankly, newborns are not that cute. They are very small, and they scream to indicate all levels of want and discomfort, with two levels: On and Off.

I always swore I would never, ever use baby talk. (But it is actually very difficult to speak to someone who gives no real responses, verbal or non.)

I always swore I would never NEVER refer to myself in the third person as Mama, Mommy, or anything else. (But for some reason, perhaps because others do it, or because I am trying to come to terms with my new role, or perhaps because it touches on some weird psychological link that perhaps it will be reassuring to the baby, it has been all too easy to do.) We have never sat down and decided what we want our child to call us. We better make that decision quick, before this weird behaviour gets engrained past the point of no return.

So, we invent what is essentially pseudo-IC for the baby. I suppose everyone must do it with their children. (Given that we as humans anthropomorphize just about everything, it stands to reason that we would be even more tempted with a tiny speechless human.) It seems that she has things to communicate. Why she can look so desperately unhappy when she cries, yet not smile yet voluntarily, is a mystery to me.

Sleep deprivation is funny. I find that my processes are very much slowed. I can't think of words, can't process speech, or comments. People say things, and my automatic cultural reflex to laugh, smile, nod...(whether things warrant it or not; it is a function of politeness, no?) is off. I just stare instead, or kind of chuckle blankly, or insert some transition word that transitions to absolutely nothing.

There is certainly more to share, but I have this sinking feeling that we have just hit the two week growth spurt. Maybe I should not even try to sleep tonight. So much homework to do...

Yet!!

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Wed, 20 Sep 2006 05:12:00 +0000

Okay, So, the baby has arrived. Kate sent out a mass email, though some of you that read this blog may not have received the email, specifically if you have never emailed Kate. After much deliberation over names we have come up with the name Harper 久音 Schramm Kelley, or Harper Hisane Schramm Kelley. We've had some confusion about the name; we wanted a name that had conotations of seeking and speaking truth. I've put up some pictures on our flickr account, if you care to see. Also, much thanks to David Bytewerk for the matress; unfortunately, we did not know where to get in touch with you, so you get public mention. I know I have not been posting much on the blog, a lot of that has to do with moving and still working on my previous Master's thesis, while at the same time starting another Master's program. For those of you that are interested, the Master's thesis can be summed up as this: you can't trust the government, nor the companies that say you should trust them. Here is a novel way that they can take your information. Even in the presence of mitigation techniques, this novel way performs at least as well previous techniques, and without the presence of mitigation, performs about 125% better than previous techniques, within the confines of the experiment. Anyway, Harper is sleeping soundly, so I will seek sleep myself. I hope to be able to maintain my own posts more regularly in the upcoming year, though you may see a spin-off site that deals with research issues, not quite certain yet. TK

NOT YET DANGIT

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Thu, 14 Sep 2006 01:55:00 +0000

For all the inquiring minds, today is d-day, plus THREE.

But honestly, with us as parents, could this baby arrive at 40 weeks precisely? HARDLY LIKELY.

We, uh, still haven't decided a name. Not even really a shortlist. But that is because we are stubborn and refuse to simply name things we LIKE, if they are hugely popular (and in all likelihood, this is why they come to mind so fast--because they have been in the top three baby names for the last, oh, ten years). This goes for things like Autumn and Emma and Nevaeh (just kidding--that ranks as one of the worst names of all time, so far as I am concerned. Just know Symbiote is gonna have a BEST FRIEND named that... ouuuuh...) Or names that happen to coincide with names of friends' sisters (Fiona), or cool names people we know have ALREADY CHOSEN for their babies/children (Naomi, Emi, Sora, Romy, Ellie--which sounds a bit too much like grandchild #1, Eli).

No, suggesting names is probably not helpful, unless you possess The One Name That Will Inspire Us.

For the record, "hisa" in part of the middle name we had decided we liked WAY before Hisahiko was born, and definitely before the name was announced. So THERE, imperial princebaby.

Long live the melamine sponge

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Wed, 16 Aug 2006 13:44:00 +0000

So, the mapreading skills still need work. But I don't actually get us lost EVERY time I navigate. We made it to the closing on time. (It's a complicated city, full of one-ways, and the bypass versus the highway...)

The owners, it turns out, are cool people. We may hang out in the future, even! We did lunch, discussed the previous renters, were relieved to hear that cleaning had been done. Then it was time. Time to enter the field. We did not realize the madness that would ensue.

The renters, it seems, did not know actually how to clean well. We saw vacuuming had been done, and threw our plans for flea poisoning out the window. There could be no worries. But for the carpet... we went in with a steam cleaner, and discovered the living room carpet to not be a shade of dark tan/maroon, but a very nice sort of light beige/cream. Long live the melamine sponge! Long may you scrub our floors, walls, door frames! Hoorah for white floors, not grey! Hurrah that the apparent water damage to the bathroom was simply corner lint that had never, ever been scrubbed!

We cleaned with a fervor that may have been... fanatical. Obsessive. But we have always felt(even when renter ourselves) that a new apartment/house/garage/whatever, when you move in, should look as new as it possibly can. This is what the housing deposit is for. This is what cleaning services do. This is the way we scrub the floor, early in the morning.

So we have reclaimed the house, inch by inch, from people who did not keep it clean. We have scrubbed the scuffs from the walls, we have spackle to fill in the nail holes, we have peeled away the layers of greasegrime from the kitchen, the soapscum from the bathrooms, and even narrowly avoided death when Lysol mixed with The Works (the sudden appearance of whisps of white smoke from the toilet bowl was a pretty good indication that the vent should stay on and the bathroom door CLOSED.)

And now, a word about dogs. I shall endeavor not to say I despise dogs, despite allergies to them. I don't believe I do hate them, or other furred pets. I think I actually like them. But... there is care for dogs (which can expand to other pets) that is necessary. One is cleanliness. If the dog is not clean, do not let it roam around where it will make all your carpets smell of dog. A clean dog is pleasant to smell. A dirty dog is not. Homes that smell of dog, that are littered with dog hair, are not pleasant places to be. Two is humane treatment. Do not lock your small dog in a garage for days at a time when you are out of town, or are too lazy to care for them. The accumulated bodily functions and further animal smell contaminate the walls, floor, and ceiling, and bleach alone has not yet succeeded in removing it (though the floor must be sterile, now.) And finally, and here is probably the most important... if your dog has fleas, for the sake of your family, your small children, and your animal, get rid of them. Spray the house. Do not live in squalor surrounded by as many fleas as populated homes in the Middle Ages. The people that move into the flea-infestation that you created through your carelessness will want to kill you, especially after spending several days nursing itch paranoia and slathering on calamine lotion.

Flea foggers appear to work quite well. Nothing like poisoning the place where you sleep. Where your child will sleep. We moved our stuff in on Monday, and Mom and Dad helped us re-vacuum, reclean, and unpack through Tuesday. There is remarkable progress, though we only have space for roughly half our books on bookshelves. It also seems strange to be setting up the stuff of a person we have never met, have not yet named, who we simply do not know apart from her movement. We also have more pots and pans and plastic storage things than even I thought was possible. So, if you are someone who needs a few things like this, we might have a special present for you.

And finally, a few thoughts on pregnancy. I am in month 9. The final month. I don't feel big, but then I catch a side-on glimpse of myself in a mirror or shop window, or see my shadow on a wall, and think, "Dang! How much farther out can my belly GO?!" I think I understand now why it lasts for nine months. You need all of it to get used to the concept of actually being pregnant, and dealing with all the emotional baggage attached to how concept and reality are not at all similar. Then you need to deal with how having a child doesn't turn you into some freako suburban soccer parent, and how all those must-haves, and must-dos, are in fact choices. I didn't want to be pregnant. I would not have chosen it. I would not have blithely gone skipping into some parental dreamworld. It has been a process all the way of resistance and questioning, anger and anxiety. And I don't know that I will love my child at first sight, like everyone keeps insisting I will. BUT. I know that I am suffused with an increasing sense of curiosity. A sense of curiosity so strong about what this creature will look like, how they will be, how we will handle raising her... and this curiosity stirs a sense of protectiveness in me that does not rise on a usual basis; it inspires me to think beyond mere education. It is a curiosity so strong that it could be love, I think. I have this mine/not-mine, me/not-me kicking around which we are going to meet, and we will be strangers/not-strangers. She is us and not us. We have so much to learn, so many adventures to embark on.

Mayhem

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Thu, 10 Aug 2006 01:45:00 +0000

We have been a bit silent lately. Here are the updates, as they be. This course of life never did run smooth.

There have been some rather scary family/extended family health issues over the weekend. But it looks like everyone is doing all right, and will make good recovery.

Following other things, in no particular order...

Preparations for baby--moving right along. Have had two baby showers, now, and now possess a cartload of pink things. People, people. You are gonna feel like dingyheads if this kid turns out to be a boy. Dagu-chan has promised us a onesie that reads: "THIS ROBOT IS PROGRAMMED TO DESTROY CAMERAS." It will be refreshing, very. I have returned what pink has had gift receipts. Little has. I have gone and bought baby stuff, and it feels to me to be a bad omen to have so much crap prior to the baby actually being here.

Preparations for house closing--picked up a load of cleaning supplies for this weekend, which marks our grand house-cleaning-prior to move. (We are going to do a precautionary flea treatment on the carpets, as the former renters had a dog.) Also have been tag teaming phone communications with banks, agent, utilities, insurance, moving truck rental, and... yes, every day there is a new surprise, a new panicked series of phone calls to someone, or a series of someones.

Preparation for moving. Boxes everywhere. I have thrown away most of my childhood, as well as gotten rid of all my notes from college. Dad was shocked (he still has some of his). I would have kept them, but I have nowhere to put them. Mom wants me to get it allll out, including old toys. She is anti-clutter, and right now the house is crowded with our stuff that has been in storage, plus Grandma's stuff, plus my brother's stuff in the garage, the closets, the back rooms, the bathrooms... Can't blame her, really, but I guess I had always thought some stuff would stay with my folks, to, you know, bring out when our kid is older, and they can see the ancient items in context. But if Mom and Dad retire, they won't be living here. Which will be strange, but provided housing goes with the job.

Preparations for school: this, oddly, seems like the least of our worries right now. In fact, we are flying high because we found out today that SecHus got another boost in funding... he will be an AI. (Assistant Instructor.)

SecHus is actually heading out to VA the day after we finish moving everything, which means I will be going back home with my folks until the weekend, in case of unexpected baby arrival. Not that it is a worry, but dang. 36 weeks, ya de.

A muddle at midmorning

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Tue, 01 Aug 2006 12:59:00 +0000

The blog is interesting, in that it is rather like the tip of an iceberg, occasionally manifesting those things that we think about, giving hints about the life we lead, or highlighting bursts of inspiration or frustration that we deem necessary to share, or have time to write about.

It also seems relevant that because of the broadness of the audience, we try to keep the personal ranting down—this isn’t a diary, after all, and despite plenty of times when it would be appropriate to mention conflicts with or concerns about people as they do affect our lives, it seems inappropriate to air all that in a more or less public forum. But for those who read this blog as a key into what we are up to, is that dishonest? A way of creating a perfectly edited world where nothing might be too difficult for a reader to handle? Or in the end, is that just malicious gossip?

Lately, Security Husband and I have been exposed to more televised American news (and tv in general) than we have in the past four years combined. More than anything, it has served to dishearten us. By the end of most days, I am weary, angry, and saddened from the sheer folly of politics, the stubborn abuse of selfishness, the self-righteous soapboxing of ignorance. I was eager in previous months to return, to work for change somehow, however I could. That desire hasn’t changed—the challenge is to make it spring from hope and not anger. I am freed from the constraint of distance, I can dare to take risks that may backfire, offend, or alienate. I can make those risks personal, even when worry almost cripples me to make them. Because I have to try, and deal with the consequences as they come, without fear.

We are both bracing ourselves for adaptation, constant adaptation, in the upcoming days, weeks, months, even years. There are changes we expect, and I know there are things I want to focus on, things I want to do… and to do them, there are activities I shall have to pare back, or withdraw from entirely--things which have become habitual, unproductive, and only rarely enjoyable as recreation.

But aside from all that… We are eager to be on our own again, to resume life as we know it, with our own schedule and lifestyle. Living with my parents the last two months has been nice in many ways. Connecting with family (and extended family) again has been good, educational, interesting, and depressing in turns. The notions of obligation and familial ties rather put me in mind of this huge, medievalesque clan-village of people, as I struggle to remember the names of his cousins, and which aunt belongs to which grandparents, and who lives where, and which cousins are part of which family… and knowing that we are all weirdly connected through this web that runs not along lines of personal attachment or common interest, but something more strange, that can ignore such things entirely and be unchanged. Lot of holes in this analogy: family as such is not something I have devoted much thought to, but have been frequently lately.

Food for Thought

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Sun, 16 Jul 2006 12:57:00 +0000

Food for Thought: The Language Police and the Quesadilla

Thanks, AWAD newsletter, for alerting my attention to this article. What gave me pause was: "Hundreds of towns and half of the states, spending millions of taxpayer funds, have created legislation that makes English the official language."

This seems to me to be nothing more than a fear-based knee-jerk reaction to diversity. I suppose "hundreds of towns" still makes a minority of towns, but -half- the states? If this is true, it disgusts me. Sure, I think communication is necessary, and I taught English abroad for four years, ostensibly give kids tools to communicate with when they travelled abroad. However, as I was also representing a foreign culture, I had the opportunity to dialogue with and enrich the experiences of numerous people, including myself. By demanding one language as official, I believe we give ourselves an excuse to dismiss the diversity in the American immigrant culture, because then there is no pressure on us as an English-speaking majority to attempt to learn other languages or understand other cultures--all the responsibility for that falls on the immigrant. Failure to dialogue, then, really is failure to communicate.

Do I advocate teaching English in school? Yes, largely because most Americans can scarcely read or write in their native English to save their lives. Kids are graduating high school and moving on to college without any ability to write coherently, show critical thinking, or even show grammatical competence. In most places in the US, too, English is still necessary to succeed, but how does resisting bilingualism or multilingualism make Americans any less stupid?

Debeso ya.

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Wed, 12 Jul 2006 01:20:00 +0000

Well, I know that last post mentioned pictures which would be up soon. We have them off the camera, and onto the external hard drive. They will be coming. Just not today. In fact, probably not this week at all, unless I can figure out how to use flickr. Or SecHus gives me his password. Which, considering I can't even install new programs on the mac without fetching him to put in the fiftyplus character password... may be unlikely.

Tomorrow we drive off to fetch our things from Japan in Indianapolis. This is something I am looking forward to, because stuffed into a box with kitchen appliances is our sen-en kakigori maker. Just gotta find some syrups somewhere, and I will be back to fighting the 95 degree heat forecasted this weekend. This is good, because an interesting side effect of the pregzors has been heightened heat exhaustion capacity, apparently. Fresh air, STAT! Have had to flee midchurch on two different Sundays, because I nearly fainted. (And I have passed out in church enough in the past. Don't need to stop mass now by vomiting in the pews or falling down at the communion rail like a drunken manatee.)

Big News. We have made an offer on a house. An actual house. It has a yard, and a garage. HOLY CRAP. I feel so adult now. Except, perhaps, an adult might have a job. Which we don't, and my Awesome Chance at a Job That I Was Totally Qualified For part-time at IU... didn't pan out. I suspect it had mainly to do with political reasons, such as not having prior existing connections with the department. In all honesty, since it looks like I will have to take at least two classes to mount up enough credits to get that federal student aid money, maybe we'll just float by on student loans the first year, or at least the first semester. And I don't think I am actually physically, mentally capable of handling two classes, baby, and part-time job, no matter how mighty I believe I am.

I think the thing that worries me the most about failing to get this part time gig was that now that I have returned to a country where I can communicate freely with its residents and expect to be treated like a skilled individual, I don't think I will be. Everyone I seem to meet or talk to has horror stories about themselves or people they know who are treated as little more than robotic automatons at their work, and not as human beings at all. Companies try to cheat them out of contractual benefits, workers comp, and well, this may be pretty standard selfishness on their part, and pretty par for the course, but it pisses me off something fierce. Do I think they deserve better? Hell, yeah. It isn't just to be respected for one's intelligence or experience, but also to be respected for your position, however humble, as a person. Since when is treating a person like a person a freaking OPTION? And this issue is echoed in national politics as well. Since when is a contract that a government has signed and sworn to uphold optional based on someone else's country? This "debate" about upholding the Geneva Convention is beyond ridiculous, and watching politicians lie barefacedly on the news is really disheartening. Apparently the wage differences now between employees and company heads is now again as disparate as it was during the Gilded Age.

Anyway. Thursday we head off to GR to enjoy three days of swimming and reading in an air conditioned hotel. Or rather, I do. Security Husband is attending and speaking at a conference at Calvin on communications theory. I am very proud of him, even though I don't get to actually watch him do his thing (no free passes for spouses, what a pity!). In a way, this is his first big chance to be representative of his field as an academic, and I'm really glad he has this opportunity. He will be part of a panel discussion on how his field (along with several others) relates to CT, so he doesn't have to be an expert on CT like a lot of the other people there. We are looking forward to hanging out with friends in GR, some of whom will ALSO be speaking at the conference, and some of whom we have not seen for a really long time.

Symbiote update: Genki. She is very active, but never on cue. Anyone who buys pink frilly things will be outcast from my presence. We have a baby registry at babiesrus.com. We have purchased a ton of books involving multilingual education and child discipline/parenting stuff. Part of this may be to help assuage our growing fear. Definitely makes me question techniques I used to use at work. Still processing material. More updates on reading material later.

“So much for the working address of the blog.”

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Fri, 23 Jun 2006 14:28:00 +0000

So much has happened in the past month or so, it seems absurd to try and summarize.

The entire month of May got sucked down by preparation for The Return. Suddenly stricken with the notion that we might be seeing people for what would be the last time, our social calendar swelled to bursting. We made it to a Ring Side Horfars show. We spent Golden Week discovering some local delights—like Ryotanji, ancient zen temple, only a twenty minute walk from the apartment. We ate matcha ice almost every day. The last two weeks, I think we ate out almost every night—and not just because we gave our fridge to Daggu-chan a week before we moved out. We also had a six-day visit from Tim’s folks, which proved interesting, not only for the break it provided as we hit tourist spots we had not been to before, but because I think for the first time, there was a sense of familiarity, of things fitting into our historical understanding of Japan. The little introduction to the Sengoku Jidai I was reading made visiting Ginkakuji and Nijo-jo and seeing the Aoi Matsuri that much more fun. It was also a matter of creative exploration, too, I suppose—I wanted every detail to stick in my mind, every breath of the atmosphere.

We made it to Shigaraki, too, and unfortunately did not pick up a good-sized tanuki for our future yard/doorstep. I regret this. Testicles are underappreciated here, especially oversized lucky ones. We did, however, supplement our ceramic plate collection, as well as replace our nice teapot—the lid was a casualty during moving, and though we superglued it back together, the two pots we found to replace it are quite nice.

I think we have found our collector’s niche. Teapots and, possibly, teacups. Tea accessories apart from cha-no-yu things, well, I suppose I will know the yes or no of that if someone gets us something truly bizarre. For the first time ever, we both found ourselves obsessed with making sure we picked up things we’ve been talking about getting for ages. Cramming four years’ worth of wants into a week is not really recommended, as it makes repacking hell.

We are so grateful to everyone for your hospitality and kindness. Whether it was taking off with furniture that we could not possibly have (wanted to) ship back, or treating us to dinner, or giving us farewell gifts that boggle the mind, helping to move stuff, hanging out so we could be sane, or throwing us goodbye parties (including some of the funniest karaoke I have ever witnessed/been a part of… )

Since we have been back, jet lag and reverse culture shock has been the norm. We have mostly defeated jet lag, but I sense we will be trying to adapt for some time to the US. In Japan, we could limit our intake of US news, and give vent to frustration and anger every so often. Here, just flipping on the television makes daily ranting the norm. It really is disheartening. Most frustrating is just not knowing how to begin to try to make a difference in the face of such corruption. BUT, and this goes especially to Rafael, but to all of us who are overwhelmed , frustrated, and angry with our country’s ridiculous policies and terrible politics—the challenge still stands—whenever it is that we all meet face to face again, I hope that all of can say, “This is what I have been doing to affect change.”… instead of merely griping or expressing disgust or outrage. (That is too easy, eh?)

As I was telling Tim the other day, part of our return which is quite interesting to me is that we now live in a multi-generational household. Grandma has been living with my parents for several years (with occasional breaks where she goes to visit some of her other children), and my brother Tim and Carrie and in and out with little Eli, my one and only nephew. (Congratulations to the two of them, for surprising everyone by eloping this month!) Two days after our return, it was his second birthday, followed the day after by Grandma’s 80th. When everyone is here, that is four generations under one roof, and the dynamic is totally different from anything I have ever experienced before. We are busy making contact with loan people and have a realtor in Bloomington, looking for our own place, so we can move and get settled before school starts in August, and rather miss our own space with our own stuff, but while this time with everyone together lasts, I am trying to get a sense for it, get to know members of my family that I have never really known, new and old.

With that comes the amusing aside that most members of my immediate family seem to view our nearly four years in Japan as some sort of extended vacation, free from worry and responsibility and “real life.” I can’t argue with this, not because I agree, but because I find it so absurd as to be inarguable. I urge everyone I know to please, please, go live as an immigrant somewhere, and find how easy and fun it can be. All the time. Sure, there are new things to experience, because a whole environment is a wild departure from all that is familiar, and there are certainly interesting places to see, but… the whole world is like that. There are places dense in the arts and haute culture here, the same as there are spaces of nature, places of worship, and fields of growing things anywhere. They simply differ, and one must seek them out to appreciate them. Granted, here one is less likely to find anything over two hundred years old by simply turning a corner on the street—that is certainly something we miss—but it goes with the territory.

I think we will be shortly posting a whole lot of pictures and possibly video clips up, things that are from the last month or so. Brace yourselves.

There is so much more to say, so many more reactions to try and share, at this lull, this juncture of pathways and turning of pages.

I shall express one final thought. 飯道山, you win. All my bluster that I would master you. But you knew the whole time, and I think… I think that you do not care, one way or other. You never did.

Beginnings and endings

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Fri, 28 Apr 2006 12:09:00 +0000

This Wednesday marked my last day at ABC English. It was harder than expected, as mothers came (and have been coming) forward with presents. Some of these marked my first ever gifts of clothes for the symbiote. ("It's the size of a large steak now!" says my OB/GYN, and I smile, but deep inside I think, "Mmmh, steak. Yum." I don't want to think about it that way!!! More on symbiote later, because I am SURE everyone is panting or drooling to hear. ... ha.)

I spent Wednesday evening and Tuesday, too, in a state akin to shock. Separation alarms are ringing in the corridors of my mind, and unplugging myself from this chapter, midway through the page turn, (how many more metaphors can I mix in? here is one more!)- had me feeling like I was free-falling, and my wings hadn't quite figured out how to flap right yet.

I resolved to do nothing all day on Thursday. And I achieved that. Almost. Guilty at still lounging in pajamas at four pm, I took a shower, then put laundry away. One should not swear to not be productive, for I paid for this burst of guilt-inspired productivity by breaking the lid on our best teapot, after tripping over a cord with both arms full of folded clothes, covering the floor in half-consumed tea. I suggested to Tim that perhaps we should make a point of pouring tea over the rest of the carpeting in here before inspection day, just to make sure it is the same uniform shade of taupe.

But with a little time to unwind comes a certain relief. This is the best thing. Leaving my kids behind is difficult-- I never told them I was going-- and I am going to write up a nice letter in Japanese, I think, to give to all the parents and children, something that conveys my mind to them. But I heard back from IU this week, and they suggest I take the graduate colloquy course this fall. It puts me into my cohort, and will serve as a necessary basis for much to follow. It also only meets one day a week--rock on. I then, of course, made the mistake tonight of looking at all the other course offerings this fall. I think I have spent the last hour yelling foul that I can't go full-on this fall semester. Dare I try six credits? I -want- to, but I somehow doubt that such a thing is WISE. I haven't tried explaining to anyone at IU yet that I also want to try and hook up with the music department, and take a course in classical Japanese, along with some more modern Japanese. And brush up my Spanish. Seeking opportunities to do some of these things will have to wait until we are back, but I know it will become a lot more complicated after the arrival in person of the symbiote. Now is the time to act!! Quickly, before things become more complicated!!! Post-move is going to be a lot of reading on bilingual education, I think, and finding resources in the Bloomington area.

So, I waited to share symbiote news. Um. Not much. Creature started moving around in a way that I could feel a few weeks ago. It doesn't keep me up at night, yet. There is a certain alien fascination to it, though, to lie quietly as I wake up and feel it do the "I want breakfast" dance, or to lie down flat, and suddenly realize my stomach has taken on pointy contours. What the heck is it DOING!? We make an idealized personality for ourselves in our brains, and nothing can prepare us for actual arrival. I read Remember Sascha? by Ray Bradbury today; a certain insight there. I was hoping this past Monday's appointment would reveal the mystery sex of the creature... but no luck. The doctor said, "Uhh... not sure. Next time, maybe."

We have to start the irritating process of naming. Something I have looked forward to since I was a child. I name all things very seriously, but there is a part of me that feels like I shouldn't commit to something as serious as a name until I get to know the creature I am naming. Not that I expect to have a mystical mother's intuition upon seeing the creature's face, but... naming someone when I have very little idea of their personality or nature, seems... wrong, somehow. But maybe since it will share OUR natures, whatever we choose to mark our child with for all eternity or until their 18th birthday drives them to the local court house in giddy relief from long humiliation... will reflect us and it, too.

Decisions, loopholes, and misgivings

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Fri, 07 Apr 2006 02:12:00 +0000

We have both decided that Indiana University is where we are going to be flinging ourselves to. Mostly. The offer of a full ride plus living stipend from Carnegie Mellon was probably the hardest reward I have ever had to look at... and defer. Yes. Sadly, that is the only loophole we have if things go horribly wrong. I will not be able to start classes at IU this fall, but if Tim has some sort of awful experiences in the computer/bio sciences, well... if by January we know for certain that we should not be at IU, then... we can arrange another crosscountry move.

IU was supposed to be our first choice. But the more contact I had with the department at University of Oregon, the more I liked them. I had to plan out a tentative course of study and contact professors, all of whom I exchanged multiple emails with, and who were all very helpful and laid-back. Plus they have a later start date--which is good for people expecting to be recovering from childbirth most of September. But Tim didn't make it into their computer science department--nobody was interested in studying what he wanted to study. (A bonus, I suppose, that you can have something more specific to say to potential programs. But not this time.) I suppose my extensive contact with Oregon made it easy to envision myself there, eager to meet professors in person who I had only had email contact with. Writing the letter to them telling them I couldn't come was difficult. I didn't expect to have tears rolling down my cheeks as I hit "send."

People at IU have been helpful. I have gotten some responses from professors to my questions. But on the whole (and maybe this can be entirely accounted for by the sheer size of the department), my overall impression of IU at the moment, no matter how good their program, is that it is snobbish, in the horrible way that certain humanities believe they can be. This leaves me with deep, deep misgivings that I will not fit into the program. I sincerely hope this is not the case.

Maybe decision making is always hard, having to cut yourself off from potential paths. I don't know. I do know that excitement and disappointment are present in equal measure.

Experiences on the Way to the Pool

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Tue, 04 Apr 2006 08:26:00 +0000

I'm swimming at the Hikone Aquatic Center on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I'd probably swim more, but the rest of the days the center is used for school practices. It has been really good for me to get out into the community. There are sometimes when normal life completely consumes you; envelopes you in the wonderful gauze of regularity. Even if your life may seem "exotic" to others, the everyday is everywhere. Sometimes the weirdest experiences can shock you out of that gauze and into clarity and recognition.

I always walk to the pool around the castle moat. Kate and I were out just the other day, and they have started to set up for Hanami. There are food booths out and some people are already out looking at some of the flowers that have started to poke out. On my walk a gentleman was coming toward me at an intersection (Intersec, making lines meet for centuries). He caught site of me and slammed on his brakes causing a tremendous squeal. Even though we both going the same direction, he refused to come closer than 15 yards. This must have been tortuous for him, as I was walking and he was on a bike. Every time he would get too close, the brakes and squeal. I would say that he was trying to alert me that he was coming, but he was coming to a complete stop, as I said, about 15 yards away each time. What a way to demonstrate to someone else their otherness, that they don't belong.

Contrast that with the conversation I had with another gentleman after swimming. He was interested in where I came from, what I was doing in Japan, where I had learned to swim. We had a fairly informal chat for 10 minutes in both Japanese and English. And so you have the dichotomy of otherness, sometimes it is repellent, other times it is an attractor. We have to leave with both, and choose which experiences are more valuable, those that set us apart negatively or those where genuine interest allows connections to be made. We must also remember these lessons for our own life. How can we reach out to "others," to make those connections and bring them to us and bring ourselves to them.

I've been busy with, you know, things.

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Sun, 02 Apr 2006 14:48:00 +0000

Well, I've been busy with course work and making trying to help make decisions that affect our future, but I still have some time for creativity. Bruce Schneier, a person I look up to as, dare I say it, a security professional (I'll say it, but I've been getting way too excited to move out security and into different aspects of computer science to really consider myself a security professional. Technically, I have been paid for my research on covert channels, so that does make me a professional, I guess). He has a well balanced view of realistic problems of security, that and I'm a big fan of his cryptowork. One of the papers I'm currently working on is heavily based on his paper on secure audit logs. Anyway, he's posted, what appears to be, a fun contest. He is suggesting that people come up with extremely low probability, but still feasible, terrorist attacks. As he calls them, Movie-plot attacks. You can follow the link at the bottom to get the full scoop. For those friends of ours that read this blog, if you are interested in working together, let me know, if we're lucky, there is a movie deal in the works.

It is in this spirit I announce the (possibly First) Movie-Plot Threat Contest. Entrants are invited to submit the most unlikely, yet still plausible, terrorist attack scenarios they can come up with.
Your goal: cause terror. Make the American people notice. Inflict lasting damage on the U.S. economy. Change the political landscape, or the culture. The more grandiose the goal, the better.

Assume an attacker profile on the order of 9/11: 20 to 30 unskilled people, and about $500,000 with which to buy skills, equipment, etc.

...

Judging will be by me, swayed by popular acclaim in the blog comments section. The prize will be an autographed copy of Beyond Fear. And if I can swing it, a phone call with a real live movie producer.

Entries close at the end of the month -- April 30 -- so Crypto-Gram readers can also play.

This is not an April Fool's joke, although it's in the spirit of the season. The purpose of this contest is absurd humor, but I hope it also makes a point. Terrorism is a real threat, but we're not any safer through security measures that require us to correctly guess what the terrorists are going to do next.
Link

I think I would change it to 20 to 30 semi-skilled people, but it's just a meaningless quibble.

In other news, we've made decisions and we're off to Indiana University, me to study cognitive science and bioinformatics and Kate to study folklore. I'm looking forward to it very much, one might say I'm giddy about it. I'm finishing up my Master's in computer security at JMU currently, but I have always planned it as a stepping stone for bigger things. I'm not going to say I'm starting anything, it is just a continuation of learning, but "I love it when a plan comes together." -- Col. John "Hannibal" Smith

So now I have to finish up my classes, which, at least for this semester have been disappointing, but once again, my focus is elsewhere, like preparing to defend my thesis when I get back to the states (aforementioned work on covert channels).

I usually don't post about the music I'm listening to, but, in this instance, I feel I should mention Threnody Ensemble. The music is quite gripping, to me at least (problems with music, likes are subjective). This can be a bad thing when you are listening to it while trying to study, but Copland would say that if you are only listening to music in the background, you can never get the narrative, nor should expect to be able to understand it. When I have the time to sit and listen their music always seems to have some surprise in it, but I discovered, probably a little over a month ago, that they have some of their sheet music at their site. I think that is pretty swell. I just wish they'd release another CD and update their website.

Well, I need to sleep while my computer does work for me.

Something hardly deep and meaningful

noreply@blogger.com (景都) — Mon, 27 Mar 2006 13:13:00 +0000

Time is of the essence to try and think on important things. So, obviously, this will be the sketchy, half-formed, globulous sort of thoughts that I want desperately to fledge, but know that they will instead blurble in that amoebic goo of my repressed subconscious.

I have been reading Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, by Annie Dillard, and while from time to time her style and approach seem almost too forced--an unnatural seeking-out, as it were, of ways to view things, and a devotion to put them to paper and draw lines between them, no matter how nebulous, I confess that she is able to articulate through extended thought many things that I have tasted whispers of, have tried to articulate myself in too blunt and inelegant of language.

Today was another doctor's appointment. And I must say, I really regret that I will not be able to give birth ("give to light," how I love that Spanish phrasing) here. Nor will Dr Jinno be my OB/GYN throughout the full course of this strange adventure. I have a little photo album book that describes different months, which I received beginning the third month. In addition to little helpful hints about changes that will be taking place TO me, I also get a little marker describing the size of the Creature, the Symbiote. And because this is Japan, I also get an ultrasound picture every time I go, for next to nothing. I am ignorant of medical things to an extreme degree, so there two kinds. One is the "bottom-up" view during the standard cervical exam, which measures the length of the Creature, the other is the "tummy buzz" one. (Good thing I am not a physician, eh?) WELL. Today was the first tummy one, which produced a much more detailed image. Before, I could see the Creature's heartbeat. Today, I saw a tiny person with a tiny skeleton, dancing to music only It could hear. I heard its rapid hamster-heartbeat as if through loudspeakers. (I think the volume was up too loud.;p) It has a face, though no one could say a dancing see-through skeleton is "kawaii" by any means, seeing such a thing at all was shocking.

Some people become "pro-life" by becoming parent to their own tiny life. I don't know what I am. As this excellent article (linked to by B months ago) notes, the terms of the debate are all wrong, especially when viewed from a position of faith. I think I reject the terms of engangement. As Annie Dillard notes, nature is so exceedingly wasteful, a veritable flood of death- gruesome, incomprehensible-- that standing and looking closely at it can make one retreat back into the safe warm haven of human culture in horror. But I have this sensation that choosing this Creature was never in my hands. I could not have said to my belly "Be Thou Rife With Life; Bear Fruit," any more than I can tame my hair by demanding that it be straight, or force my feet to be one size smaller. I cannot by concentration split one cell, much less than can I coalesce a skeleton in miniature out of a secret knowledge. Do I have the courage to even bring this Creature into a world burgeoning with this overflow of life and death? "We are able to have children because our hope is in God, who makes it possible to do the absurd thing of having children. In a world of such terrible injustice, in a world of such terrible misery, in a world that may well be about the killing of our children, having children is an extraordinary act of faith and hope. But as Christians we can have a hope in God that urges us to welcome children. When that happens, it is an extraordinary testimony of faith." (Stanley Hauerwas)

Can I ask It... "Why do you dance, there, to a music your unformed ears cannot yet even hear?" There are tiny hands, there. No unformed flesh or knobs of putty dough, but hands in miniature, grasping and swimming and swishing in a tiny bound sea, performing acrobatics I cannot yet feel. What does that mean? That such a fragile, insignificant Thing should rejoice in unvoiced silence?

We human predators have no seeming compunction about exterminating one another, devouring the young of the enemy in smoke and fire. Why should there be any compunction about devouring our own young as an insect may, or a goldfish? For we DO, don't we? We tear into one another with our fangs and claws, and call it by names that are wrapped close in intellectual sounding titles that say nothing of their consequences. The whole world, as Dillard notes, a bloody altar.

Hope and grace, I suppose. And courage. And perhaps even blind, deaf rejoicing.