Monday, February 28, 2011

Get Thee to a Meeting

I remarked to Chelle this morning that it’s been a while since I went to a meeting. I know that’s a bad thing, according to the conventional wisdom. It seemed like, for everyone I met in rehab who has relapsed, their relapse was always preceded by stopping going to meetings. And I see the value in going to meetings. They remind you of how difficult it can be to stop drinking and stay stopped. I know the addict’s brain: once you start to get complacent, once you start thinking you’ve got this thing licked, you drop your guard and the self-talk starts. “Look, you’ve been sober for over a year now. Clearly you have no problem.” “Obviously you can stop if you really put your mind to it.” “Now that you know how to stop if you get out of control, what’s the harm in a little drink every now and then?” And so on.

So, I probably should get my ass to a meeting.

Still, I haven’t gone. I’ll probably get a lecture from my sponsor about this. We also need to go to keep working our program. I speculated to Chelle that maybe I don’t feel such an overwhelming need to go and keep processing my disease and the steps because I blog about all of it. I put it out there. I also know that if I were to relapse, there are quite a few people who would be bummed out for me. It wouldn’t be the end of the world—I know folks are forgiving; people would no doubt understand and just support me in getting back on the wagon. Still, I hate disappointing people, and that is honestly a deterrent.

But the thing is--and here’s what I really wanted to write about—I sincerely have zero desire to drink. I don’t know what has caused such a colossal shift. When I think about drinking now, I just see it as a royal pain in the butt that isn’t even worth the energy it takes to drink. Alcohol has become like cigarettes for me when I quit smoking. On my 30th birthday, I quit cold turkey. It was tough at first and I was a basket case for a few months, but then even the smell of cigarette smoke became distasteful to me. I haven’t smoked for almost 19 years. I don’t miss the stinging eyes, the stench, the stained teeth and fingers, the chronic cough, the disapproving looks of my non-smoking friends.

Booze is like THAT. I don’t miss the hangovers, the mood swings, the misperceived slights and paranoia, the anger, the blackouts, the constant drama, the morning-after humiliation, the disapproving looks of my non-alcoholic friends.

Chelle leaves beer in the fridge now, and not once have I been tempted to touch it.

Life has continued to happen—but I’m not one to avoid my feelings anymore. I just feel them. They go away. I don’t like feeling the uncomfortable things: anger, jealousy, and the like, but I’ve felt them all and realized they won’t kill me. I know one day something colossal might happen and I might find myself in a mood to just drink it all away. But somehow that seems unlikely to me. I have reached a place where I just don’t think alcohol does anything good for me at all. All it does is make every last little thing worse.

I don’t WANT to feel buzzed. I want to keep my marbles and my senses.

Maybe it’s just that, wanting the sanity more than wanting the escape.

That could be worth sharing at a meeting. I'm resolved. I'll hit the noon meeting tomorrow. Because the point isn't to just get help for yourself. It's really to help out the others, and thereby help yourself.

UPDATE: Well, I didn't get a "lecture" from my sponsor, but she did caution me about not getting too smug. I hope I didn't sound smug; I certainly don't FEEL smug. I guess what I'm just trying to say is that it's a marvel to me to not even feel the slightest inclination to drink. Nothing short of a miracle, in fact. Perhaps I'll try to elaborate on that in a later post.

The other thing she said that make me stop to think was that the truth is, I DON'T know that a relapse wouldn't be a genuinely big, awful deal. I minimized the impact of one above. She said I can't know what would happen. One "little" relapse, I could drive, I could die. And of course that is true, too.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Sun Whips Out Massive Flare

Check this out! On February 24, 2011, the Sun blasted a titanic M class flare; but not aimed at Earth. This time-lapse video displays about 90 minutes of activity; one frame taken every 24 seconds by the Solar Dynamics Observatory (SDO).
Credit: NASA

How States Can Stop Discriminating and Make Money Doing It!

I have a brilliant idea that, if implemented, would help states begin to dig themselves out of the deep hole of deficits. It doesn't involve any cuts, any union busting, and it would help bring jobs to the states.

Legalize gay marriage. For every gay couple that gets married in your state, the state will collect the usual licensing fee (on average about $35 a couple). In California, when gay marriages were briefly legal prior to the passage of Prop 8, 18,000 gay couples were wed. This alone brought the state well over a million dollars in revenues, WITHOUT hurting a single soul. (Those 18,000 couples remain legally wed, and their marriages seem to have not hurt the state or the heralded institution of marriage in any way.)

But licensing fees aren't the only benefit. Marriage is a billion dollar industry. It generates over $60 billion a year in expenses, ranging from invitations to rented gowns and tuxedos to video shoots and photography. Make-up artists, cosmetologists, wedding planners, and the like all benefit from people's marriages. The tourist industry benefits from weddings, when people travel to attend a wedding, or when the happy couple goes on a honeymoon.

Granted, there aren't as many gay couples as there are heterosexual couples, but immediately adding, say, even a 5% increase to the number of total couples marrying would represent a significant boon to the marriage industry. That's nothing to sneeze at in these tough economic times. Additionally, all the aforementioned services are taxed, so the states would benefit in this way, too, in addition to collecting marriage licensing fees.

I am talking REAL money.

Denying gay citizens (who pay their taxes like anybody else) the right to marry may in fact be a very short-sighted fiscal policy. Just sayin.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Grateful Dead: "A Touch of Grey"

Lord, is my hair getting salt-and-peppa! And the world's going to pot. Still, I will survive.

This was recorded at Shoreline Amphitheater down in Mountain View, about twenty minutes from where I live.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

The Difference Between Democrats and Republicans, Part Two

My friend Thomas has offered the Republican response to my last post, so in the interest of fair play I post it here:

Daughter: I really enjoy school and I've been working to retain my scholarship. I made a 98 on the last test, after studying hard.

Father: How is your best friend Susie doing?

Daughter: She's doing fine. She parties a lot and her grades aren't that good, but she's getting an education. I think she made a 74 on that same test.

Father: Since she's your best friend, why don't you go to the professor and ask if you can share your grade with Susie? If they were averaged, you'd both get 86's, which is still a good grade and you could help your friend out.

Daughter: Are you kidding? I worked hard for that grade! I'd like to party like Susie, but I think my grade is more important.

Father, smiling: Welcome to the Republican party.

To which I added an alternative punch line to represent the Libertarian Party:

Father: "What is this government regulation called 'grades,' anyway? Get rid of it! You two are perfectly capable of grading your own selves."

It's been an interesting discussion on Facebook. The real differences (jokes, of course, are always distortions to some degree, stereotyping the worst extreme of any party in order to be humorous) seem to boil down to different ideas about personal responsibility, fairness, blaming, privilege, and the like. Regardless of your political persuasion, what I'm finding is that most of us actually value the same ENDS. We just disagree primarily on how to get there.

Monday, February 21, 2011

The Difference Between Democrats and Republicans

I was chatting a bit with some friends this morning and was struck by a great revelation: the true difference between Democrats and Republicans. We were talking about the availability of office supplies at work. One person asked if, where I work, supplies are kept under lock and key and you have to ask for them, or if there's a cabinet full of supplies and we can help ourselves to what we need.

I explained that in the mailroom there are cabinets with the usual supplies teachers need (dry board erasers, markers, tablets, pens, clips, etc). But not so with copy paper. Copy paper is kept under lock and key and when the copy machine runs out of paper, you have to ask the department secretary to add paper to the machine. When you use the copy machine, you also have to key in your individual code for the machine to work, so the college always knows how much paper you're using.

I said I was fine with this. We have what are called "SMART Classrooms," meaning you connect your laptop (note it is MY laptop and not provided by the college, though there are some limited number of laptops computer-less adjuncts fight over) to a projector and the class can see what you have onscreen. (It's sort of a fancy overhead projector for the old-school readers here.) The college also has Web Access, which means each class has an online website that students can access. I post assignments, copies of what I used to use as handouts, and other class information there.

The college has cracked down on paper use because of the draconian budget cuts during these tough times, and honestly? Copy paper is expensive. Cutting back on unnecessary copying is logical. If the students can just find handouts on Web Access, then you don't need to put a paper copy in their hands. The students themselves can just print out whatever they want a hard copy of.

I'm fine with all of this. BUT. The thing is, this logic assumes that every last student has a computer and printer. It's not always safe to assume that, because some of these kids are from low income families. Now, I used to tell the class at large that they can always go to our Writing Center to print out anything they need if they don't have a computer and printer at home, but now even the Writing Center has come under fire for "overusing paper." Now students are limited to printing copies of their essays only. So they can't print things like essay assignment sheets (which contain the prompt for a particular essay and instructions for doing the assignment).

For me, this is a problem, so that's when I'll break down and use the copy machine. I put a hard copy of essay assignments in every student's hand.

So far, so good, but what if the copy machine isn't working, or I've used up my "quota" of paper for a semester? And the answer to this crystallized for me the difference between liberals and conservatives.

Democratic view: This would wind up being unfair to the poor kids. They aren’t able to print out things like essay assignment sheets and refer back to the assignment. They have to work from memory. This gives the kids with a computer and printer (i.e., the richer kids) an advantage. We have to do something to level the playing field and get a copy of the assignment into each student's hand.

Republican view: That’s the way the cookie crumbles. If they’re at that much of a disadvantage, they can just get a third job and save up money to buy a computer and printer. I sure as heck am not responsible for their problem. I work hard enough as it is, and I have my own problems making the payment on my new BMW. You don't see anybody bending over backwards for me.

Now, this is a true story. The punch line is considered to be humor. Still, there's a lot of truth in it.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

A Walk by Crystal Springs

After four days of non-stop rain (the cold kind that bites into your skin), the sun finally came out today. So, Chelle and I ventured out and took a hike along the trail that runs by Crystal Springs Reservoir. As you can see, the sun then retreated and more storms threatened, but thankfully they blew on by.

The Reservoir is interesting because basically it was created by a dam on San Andreas Lake, a sag pond over the San Andreas Fault. The reservoir itself is fed by an aqueduct shuttling water from Hetch Hetchy in the Sierra Nevada (basically a flooded Yosemite Valley Junior). If you look at photos of San Andreas Lake and Crystal Springs Reservoir from the air, you can even see the fault line--a classic "strike-slip" fault where the two plates strike and slip past each other. The San Andreas Fault, of course, was the cause of the great 1906 San Francisco Earthquake and the 1989 Loma Prieta quake.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

We Women Love This Shyte

"Did I err in giving you my heart?
Why do I feel now that I'm not with you that I love you even more?
Why am I haunted by your face my every waking minute and every dreaming minute of my nights?
Ever since I've known you, I can't think of anyone else.
I know that you love me and I pray your love will last.
If we had another moment alone, I know you would take me in your arms.
And I long to be with you.
I long to share all those sweet moments.
Now I only dream of them.
And the longer I'm without you, the more vivid my dreams become.
I only hope that you think of me with the same passion that I feel for you.
One day we'll be together and we'll know the joys of love.
And no man, no god can prevent this.
I must stop writing now.
I close my eyes and you are here with me.
The castle is quiet, and I'm so happy.
I love you. I love you."

So I watched Valmont yesterday, the other fairly recent film made based on Les Liaisons Dangereuses. Most of us have seen the version Dangerous Liaisons with Glenn Close, John Malkovich, and Michelle Pfieffer. This one had Colin Firth as Valmont, Annette Bening as Merteuil, and Meg Tilly as Madame de Tourvel. It had a less tragic and less vengeful ending.

But the letter written in the above scene gave me pause because it was so beautiful in so many ways, the kind of letter any romantic would love to receive (either that, or be scared shitless some psycho stalker is after you). And yet Valmont doesn't mean a word of it. He basically dictates it to the girl-child Cecile to write to her first crush (while he is seducing her at Merteuil's request). It's just insincere gush, a total manipulation.

It made me wonder how many words, how many things are spoken in the arena of love that turn out to be utter lies? Maybe not as blatant and heartless as the example above--many things uttered may be meant when they're said--but they turn out to be lies nevertheless?

I posted about a week ago here about how my students and I are doing a unit on Marriage and Family in America, and this is a point that came up. Marriage vows and declarations of love are so often promises that wind up broken (ie, lies). Is this because people are unaware of conditions, limits, or boundaries they have and it takes a marriage for them to discover them? Is it because they assume their partner knows what the conditions are and would never break them, no matter what? Do we make promises on the assumption that we ourselves will never change? Or are vows in reality just an expression of hope? "I love you enough that I hope I will never hurt you, never leave you, never cheat on you, and will always love you"?

Maybe the expression of hope is good enough.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Women: Why Not Postal? Yet?

My BFFINM Heather and I were chatting the other day and the topic of "people going postal" came up. There's the Giffords shooting, the massacres at Columbine and Virginia Tech, the incident at Fort Hood, numerous instances in which people show up at work or an employment agency or the post office or wherever and let loose with gunfire. And it occurred to us that (so far), it's always men that do this, never women.

Now, a caveat: when I was in grad school at San Francisco State, to be accused of essentialism was to basically be called a hairy shitball. You were a dinosaur if you didn't agree that there is nothing essential about the nature of any human being (usually the discussion was actually gender-based); we are all the result of social constructs. Nothing is essentially male or female (except for genitals or testosterone or biologically based stuff). I'm an intelligent person; I can buy that. Intellectually it makes sense.

But the world is more complicated than intellectual constructs, too. At least, being human is. I'm a lesbian. What attracts me to women and what doesn't attract me about men? (Especially if we're agreeing there's no essential difference?) I can't say it's just breasts (or Globes of Joy, as my tight-knit bunch of FB pals are fond of calling them), because men with hard, well-developed pectoral muscles are every bit as sexy to me. It's not a vagina, nor is it NOT a penis (please explain why so many lesbians are aroused by gay male porn). It's something about certain WOMEN: some unexplainable combination of their energy, their hearts, their person. Most women don't attract me, either. It's only certain ones. Men can probably possess "it." But I've never found one. I've not once, in almost 49 years, fallen in love with a man. So, what am I to think? There is something essential to this particular set of women I have loved that calls out to me.

We could easily say that (thus far) no women have gone postal not because women can't do so, but because society has taught women that training an automatic weapon on a group of innocent people isn't very ladylike. But that seems to me TOO EASY. History has proven over and over that women can be just as violent as men, female suicide bombers have proven women can kill innocent people just as much as any man, and Aileen Wuornos showed us that yes, indeed, a female can even be a serial killer. There is no doubt in my mind that one day some woman will go postal and make national headlines for shooting up a room full of innocent people.

But it hasn't yet happened. Why? Why have women (so far) proven to be less likely to these outbursts of crazy, violent rampages that involve so many innocents?

It has to be more complicated than a social construct that doesn't permit the behavior, yet neither do I think women are essentially less violent by nature.

Heather suggested I blog about this and ask for your thoughts. So, here it is.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

"F*** You": Cee-Lo

I know I've posted this before, but it's the kind of mood I'm in today. (Actually, this song always manages to cheer me up. And did you catch Cee-Lo on the Grammys? My friend Matt said he looked like that guy from the Banana Splits.)

Ain't that some shit?

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Zenyatta's New Talent

To the left is the great Zenyatta with her muzzle slathered in paint the color of the Mosses' silks. Isn't that about the cutest thing you've ever seen?

One way horse rescues raise money is to get famous racehorses to paint (with their tails or their muzzles) on paper, creating an original horsey masterpiece. (For Christmas one year, I received a coffee mug with a "Mon-neigh" by A.P. Indy stamped on it.) Even our lovable Nopie has done a tail painting for GEVA. But once Chelle and I saw that Zenyatta had made some, you know we had to get our hands on one.

So here it is, "signed" with her hoofprint smack in the middle of it.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy Valentine's Day

When it comes to the important things, I try to hush the committee in my head and pay attention instead to what's visceral. My heart has never lied to me.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Lily Tomlin's Cake Routine

I still have this dusty old LP somewhere. In this routine, one of my favorites, Lud and Marie are at home and Lud is eating a piece of cake. Their angst-ridden teenage daughter comes home and all hell breaks loose. "Would you please stop talking about that CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE?!"

Friday, February 11, 2011


Officers Say Drugs Found In Man's Penis - Louisville News Story - WLKY Louisville

Facebook is a never-ending source of amusement for me. My BFF Heather posted the above story, which resulted in the following conversation:

I sure do miss living in the Ville.....If this happened in Nashville, it wouldn't even make the news....everyday thing here ;-) Well, that and bank robberies, home invasions and school bus crashes.
2 hours ago · ·

    • Joyce Luck Do you suppose his weewee got all jacked up?
      2 hours ago ·

    • Dawn Cerbo Perrone weewee.
      2 hours ago ·

    • Heather Beck Stallings Jacked up as in CIALIS jacked up, or jacked up as in HIGH AS HELL and numb jacked up? HA!!!!
      2 hours ago ·

    • Joyce Luck I said weewee.

      2 hours ago ·

    • Dawn Cerbo Perrone weewee.
      2 hours ago ·

    • Joyce Luck As in high weewee.
      2 hours ago ·

    • Heather Beck Stallings He looks kinda....high...right? He doesn't look happy enough to be riding the "C" train....
      2 hours ago ·

    • Heather Beck Stallings weewee.
      2 hours ago ·

    • Joyce Luck weewee.
      2 hours ago ·

    • Heather Beck Stallings So would a crack hiding weewee be a creewee?
      2 hours ago ·

    • Joyce Luck Or a whack.

      2 hours ago ·

    • Heather Beck Stallings Craw....
      2 hours ago ·

    • Michael Adams Oh God I could have soooooo much fun with this one!! But you girls seem to be doin jus fine without!
      about an hour ago ·

    • Heather Beck Stallings Mikey..... Feel free
      about an hour ago ·

    • Michael Adams Ok, for one this cop has taken being "Frisked" to a whole new level. How did he find it in the guys foreskin? Did he tase him and his pecker start smokin? And does his girlfriend ever wonder why her mouth is always numb?? And who the HELL would buy it?? Yo man I need,..I got wat yu need,..and pulls out his, he would get SHOT!!
      about an hour ago ·

    • Michael Adams I'm done for now,..gotta think more!
      about an hour ago ·

    • Joyce Luck I wish there were a way to copy and paste this to my blog, because this conversation is awesome. lol

Lady GaGa: "Born This Way"

From her new CD. Yeah, this one will be a gay anthem. I can hear it blasting off the floats at Pride this June already.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

My Empire of Dirt

When the morning sun comes up on a nice bright day and we jump out of bed, we're thankful to God that we feel well and happy instead of sick and disgusted. Serenity and happiness have become much more important to us than the excitement of drinking, which lifts us for a short while, but lets us way down in the end." -- Twenty-Four Hours a Day meditations

There's a stereotype that alcoholics and addicts are just out there having the time of their lives, enjoying themselves and their drug of choice with abandon, whooping it up and not having a care in the world. Their fun comes at the expense of family and friends, who long-sufferingly are forced to put up with their constant partying and irresponsible behavior.

It's not true.

It is NOT fun. Alcoholics are alcoholics not because it's a good time. By the time normal social drinking evolves into full-blown alcoholism, drinking or not drinking is no longer much of a choice. The thing that once brought us pleasure doesn't do that very much anymore. The first couple of drinks make us feel better or make us feel normal. The rest of them we consume because we have to, and the personality changes, the rage, the miserableness, the self-loathing, the blaming and rebelliousness, are horrible things to experience. Chelle would sometimes ask me, "Why do you keep drinking? It just makes you feel worse!" as I would sit there sobbing over some imagined slight or raging at her for some imagined failure on her part, and I would have no answer for her. I just couldn't see that it was the drinking that was the problem. I thought the drinking was making my life tolerable. In any case, I was not happy.

It wasn't until I'd been sober for a few months that it began to dawn on me how much like total shit I'd continually felt. I was basically hungover every second day--not bad hangovers; most of the time I was well enough to get up, shower, and go to work, but I wasn't 100% on my game. I gobbled ibuprofen all day long and ate sugar or other carbs to get my blood sugar up, and then collapse when I got home in the afternoon, napping if I was able to (sometimes a racing heart and palpitations would make sleep difficult). I was too tired to exercise, and that, coupled with the poor diet, conspired to make me pack on about sixty extra pounds over the course of the three-year bender I was on. Fat, sluggish, hungover, grumpy, blood sugar swings ... I hated it.

And I hated waking up the day after tying one on and facing Chelle, who was understandably angry, hurt, and disappointed in me. I tried avoiding feeling guilty by attempting to pin part of the blame on her: for instance, our sex life was lousy and she didn't love me anymore, and this was one reason I drank. Of course a piece of me knew this was bullshit. It would've been easy enough to kick me to the curb, and she didn't. And she flat out told me why she was sexually disinterested: not because she didn't love me, but because who wants to fuck a drunk person, and if not drunk and disgusting, then hungover and needy, reeking of metabolizing booze? It was more convenient for me to just not believe that. I preferred to be miserable, feeling unloved and unlovable, then choosing to act out by seeking love elsewhere. Then I had to deal with feeling guilty while living with the vague sense that I was using somebody (which I was).

By the time I snapped out of it and decided to go to rehab, it was a desperate act, an acknowledgment that I had spiraled out of control. I was sick of feeling like shit and scared to death of feeling like my whole life was an illusion; I wasn't sure anymore which of my feelings were real or imagined; I'd constructed an entire house of cards made of rationalizations, blaming, and justifications for bad behavior--the "empire of dirt" only an addict can truly understand.

It is NOT fun.

Alcoholics and addicts don't need judgment or criticism or preaching about self-control. They need your understanding, your empathy, and your help.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Roseanne Barr, Meet Log; Log, Meet Roseanne

The little boy dressed up as Darth Vader car commercial was probably the hands-down favorite, but that one's been posted all over the place. So, I post here my own personal runner-up. Overall, the Super Bowl commercials were collectively lame this year. Even Doritos, which usually offers one or two funny ones, fell into my "trying too hard" pile.

UPDATE: Looks like Snickers made Youtube take the video down. Pity, you'd think they'd like the free advertising.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Friday, February 4, 2011

'Til Death Do We Part ... Unless We Kill Each Other First

We're completing a unit on "Marriage and Family in America" in my basic comp course, reading selections in the textbook about marriage and divorce; common marital difficulties (eg, juggling work, romance, and children); the history of marriage, and the like. Last spring when we did this unit, there was a student in my class going through a divorce, so he contributed some interesting thoughts about the realities of a marriage vs. our ideals about marriage.

And, you know, when you read statistics that show half of marriages wind up in divorce, you do have to wonder what on earth is going on. The "easy" (read: simple-minded) answers tend to blame the feminist movement, gay people, and the general moral decline of the country, but this kind of blaming tends to come from the same people who cling to the idea that there is actually something called "traditional marriage"--meaning marriage has ALWAYS been, since the dawn of humankind, between one man and one woman. Of course that isn't so, at least not from the long view of history. We forget that marrying for love is a fairly recent idea--many marriages used to be arranged, to unite families or to gain wealth (hence dowries); husbands quite often took more than one wife; in some cultures, incest was the norm (Cleopatra, for instance, was married to her brother); the ancient Greeks celebrated the love between men as superior to that between husband and wife; in Rome, husbands and wives basically united to have children but sexual relations outside the marriage were normal and expected; and the list goes on. Let's not forget that even interracial marriage was illegal in this country until not very long ago, and there are still folks among us who think that is unnatural, immoral, and non-traditional.

The truth, of course, is this: our definition of and ideas about marriage evolve and change as our culture evolves and changes. Still, it seems fair to say that marriage and some sort of family unit or structure is the most common way we organize ourselves in society; and most of us aspire to marry at some point in our lives.

So why all the divorces and broken marriages and single-parent households and so forth? The answer will depend on each individual situation. But in my almost 49 years and in learning from my own partnerships and in observing what happens in those of my own friends and family, I can say that almost always, when a relationship doesn't work out, it's because (1) there was infidelity or (2) there were conflicting expectations along with poor communication about what those expectations were or (3) both. Actually, (1) doesn't normally happen without (2), anyway. The biggest areas of conflict tend to arise over money, sex, sex role expectations, and the division of household labor.

Honestly? The biggest culprit leading to a failed partnership is failed expectations. Some people view marriage through grossly idealistic lens. And it's not their fault, because society pushes that ideal on us, over and over. Here's how marriage is supposed to work: you meet, you fall in love, you marry, you always get along well, you stay passionately attracted to each other, and so you never break up. Here's the reality: you're not always going to get along well, and you won't always stay passionately attracted to each other. In fact, you may find yourself intensely attracted to some other person who comes along at some point. This can throw a person off. (It used to freak me out. My first thought would always be: "OMG, I have the hots for so-and-so! This must mean I don't love my partner anymore.") Well, that's hogwash. Just because you're attracted to someone else, that doesn't mean you don't love your spouse anymore. All it means is: I have a feeling. Do I want to act on this feeling, yes or no? What would be the consequences?

I thought it might be interesting over the course of the next few weeks to blog a little about what arises from our class discussions. I have an interesting mix of students: some are just your average young adult, but I've got a divorced mom with 6 kids; a married male veteran (Marines); a bright Russian woman with some radical ideas; a female student who has vowed to never marry; and a student who proudly states her mother is the primary breadwinner of their family. And I, the instructor, am a married gay woman.

I have no idea where our discussions will lead us, but this is what will make the process fun.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011