Griping

I once saw a cartoon (courtesy of Kakashi, I believe) a very long time ago, that more or less satirized all blogs as public forums for personal (and often very stereotypical) complaints.

I also recall, once, when I was having to write a persuasive speech on a subject I didn't care about, that frustration seemed to be the only surefire way of motivating my muse. If something didn't make me mad, or, moreover, if I thought that the subject was so frustrating it was pointless to talk about it anymore, I couldn't write very well.

Now, my father has held, and continues to hold, that I have a gift for the turning of phrases, and that my highschool journalistic aspirations need not and ought not be tossed aside lightly.

However, the world doesn't need another barking dog.

What I want to know is whether I will ever be virtuous enough to write (and write well) when not griping about something? Reading my old posts, I can dig up a few pithy gems which were written in good humor. However, they were all written during college.

. . .

So, in that case, let me qualify my question: will I ever, apart from a near ideal social setting, be virtuous enough to 1) want to write, and 2) write well, when I'm not complaining?

Now, truth be told, there are lots of happy things I could, theoretically, write about. However, all of my really happy things currently live in the land of potentia, and for that reason it seems to me that they ought to be treated as sacred. They ought not be written about like any other mundane thing. They should be saved up in silence until they reach actuality, right?

. . .

How upsetting it is

to look about me and think of the things that might have been.


BNF PARIS




HANDELINGENKAMER TWEEDE KAMER DER STATEN-GENERAAL DEN HAAG




BIBLIOTECA DE LA REAL ACADEMIA DE LA LENGUA MADRID




REAL GABINETE PORTUGUES DE LEITURA RIO DE JANEIRO




TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN




OXFORD UNIVERSITY, ENGLAND




STRAHOVSKA KNIHOVNA PRAHA




RIJKMUSEUM AMSTERDAM




STIFTSBIBLIOTHEK ST. GALLEN

Hospitality

Be forewarned. This is another rant, courtesy of me.

Definition:

" 1. the friendly reception and treatment of guests or strangers.
2. the quality or disposition of receiving and treating guests and strangers in a warm, friendly, generous way. "

It just floors me how little anyone values this old-fashioned virtue these days.

The world is much too full of businesses.

You see, business institutions do not value hospitality. The only reason for exercising generosity (or, rather, the appearance thereof), since it invariably costs you money, is if it gets you something. Every relationship is one of utility, and there is no more hospitality - only the base, groveling behaviour that is better known as schmoozing.

This, if nothing else, is the strongest testimony to the fact that the place I am currently employed does not aim itself at the betterment and education of humanity as its primary aim. It is, before all else, a business institution. Time and time again it has failed in upholding the Christian tenants of hospitality - tenants that are supposed to be intrinsic to the ideology it was supposedly founded to uphold. However, it is too gain-focused to have even considered these sorts of things into even the most basic University functions. Seven tickets per graduating student - that's it. No room for non-graduating students, no room for the large Catholic families of graduating students or those of family friends. I mean, we simply have to make sure we reserve enough room for all of our VIPs! After all, this University is primarily a special-interest club for old people wearing Prada, right?

This place never fails to disappoint me . . . and this infamous charade continues to defraud the world of what it actually needs, bidding it satisfy itself on the only thing it has to give - i.e., its own shallow self-importance.

Full well I know how unusual a background I have come from. However, I also know how much the laziness of the "real world" wants people like me adjust our expectations to its ineptitudes, "seeing life as it is". My first reaction is to condemn the supporters of so-called "reality" as madmen - for indeed, there is nothing more insane than merely seeing life as it is, and never how it should be.

However, what's worse, though, is that it would be one thing for the supporters of the status-quo to ignore the impossible dream. Dreamers, after all, are hard to come by - few people are willing to live life quite that fully. What's infinitely worse is that the dream is FAR from impossible. In fact, in this case, at least, a small community of much poorer, wiser people have been living this simple, uncomplicated dream called "hospitality" for over 35 years. Given that fact, I simply cannot understand why it is that people attempt to use "reality" as an excuse for blatant stupidity. Just because people are stupid doesn't mean they have to stay that way.

Love Bug Season

It's officially getting to be the spring season for love bugs. Named for their alarmingly enthusiastic mating habits (the female drags the attached male with her wherever she goes, even bearing him aloft, despite his being limp and unhelpful, during flight) the Wikipedia article I found states that the spring season runs from late April through early May, and sure enough just the day before yesterday I started to note the familiar pop-pop-pop of bursting love-bugs on the windshield of our little Honda. The fall season for love bugs runs from late August through early September, so, Tasik, if we still happen to be down here, and you still happen to be planning a trip to visit, bear that fact in mind, as the acidity of their smooshed guts is known to leave pits and etches in automotive paint and chrome, and they are far more numerous than you'd think. The Wikipedia article referenced above suggests applying a "vegetable coating", whatever that is, to prevent the bug-guts from sticking to your car.

Yet another reason NOT to live in Southwest Florida. There seems to be no shortage of those.

Management Schmanagement

My week in a nutshell . . .





(Click on the above photo to see it in full resolution.)

The hubby says I need to think of this as an opportunity to grow in my management skills.

. . .

The one and only nice thing about southwestern Florida

My very irish hubby slathering on the sunscreen so as to avoid getting crispy. If only I had done the same . . . I mean, to be fair to myself, I used to be able to handle an hour/hour and a half of sun back in my CA college girl days - no sweat. But, alas, it seems that my cushy desk job has put an end to that. I am now naught but an animate pile of peeley grossness. Yuck.



Our towels and handy-dandy fold-up camp chairs. Very comfy for beach sitting.



Not a particularly flattering angle on my legs, but hey, the shot is kinda cute, anyway.



You've just gotta love the tilly hat. ;)











SO . . . MANY . . . SHELLS . . . !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Florida Photo Montage

Sampling of some shots of my current place of employment - i.e., Canizaro Library. The last shot is of the furniture in the 24-hour reading room, which I had just rearranged to solve some practical problems caused by idiotic design (e.g., electrical outlets in completely inaccessible places). There's this big pseudo-philosophical argument about whether function should follow form or form follow function, and everyone's always bringing that up as the root cause of our (i.e., the librarians') dissatisfaction with this place, but as far as I'm concerned the buildings here are so ugly the whole debate is positively moot. Form indeed. Form of what, may I ask? A cannery? We sacrificed functionality in order to achieve the perfect form of a flipping cannery?

Oi.





Some nighttime pictures of the oratory, taken by the hubby. Please ignore the me that fouls up the second shot.





Not my best shots ever, to say the least, but I thought I'd put them up anyway. These are from a baby shower for a wife/baby of a graduate student (in Matthew's graduating class). Gives you some insight into the community of young mothers and very very young children that are make up my only social circle. I think, as of right now, I'm one of two graduate wives that *aren't* pregnant - and there are 30 some-odd grad students, most of them married. Yeah.

The woman in the last photo is really sweet - if I could find a way to spend more time with her it would be great, but unfortunately she lives in Fort Myers, having graduated from the masters program last December (her husband has a good job up in Fort Myers - there is really no reason for them to live here at Ave town, whatsover). She reminds me of what my mother was probably like as a young mom - realistic, but totally unfamiliar with babies and all things related to babies. She gives me this pathetic look of disgust when I point out things about her baby, Ollie, like, "Oh - he's focusing on things now. He's probably connecting to people a lot more now, isn't he?", "YES. Now, if I'd know that this was going to happen before, it would've made my life a heckuva lot easier. Why didn't someone tell me about it? WHY???" :) I am really, really, really, really thankful that I was the oldest child in a large(ish) family. It is going to save me from oodles of stress.

. . . However, on the flip side, I can't help but observe that in the meantime my experience seems to be adding oodles of stress. Meaning: I go to these graduate school parties, and am forced to watch all the 'young inexperienced mom' parenting skills, and then I twitch for days. Gosh, they're just kids, people. I mean, gee, sure, take your parenting seriously but for heaven's sake, you need a chill pill!! So, your Suzie inadvertently knocked over so-and-so's wobbley toddler - it's really not that big a deal. He's a toddler - chances are he's made of rubber.





Hubby and his bike. He loves to ride, and theoretically Florida would be a pleasant place to do so, being flatter than Western Kansas (no, I'm not even kidding - it's a swamp, so it is flat - if it were not flat, it would not be as much of a swamp, now, would it?) - - - however, the wind in Southwest Florida is so strong and so consistent (i.e., not gusty - long, hard, constant wind) that it's still a very challenging place to ride.

\

Houseplants - - no, they're not the most interesting thing ever, but the hubby dotes over any and every living thing in his care. These are very well taken care of houseplants, and he is very proud of them.



The yellow angel fish I got for my husband on his birthday in February. It seems to be a lot more outgoing and intelligent fish than most of the other kinds we have in our 20 gallon tank, so it's been a lot of fun to watch him.



GREAT BIG MOTH - courtesy of southwest Florida. Boy oh boy.

. . . When will I ever learn to just wear the stupid sunscreen? . . .

:( !

Anxiety

Okay . . . it's official . . . I'm starting to feel pretty twitchy.

I guess what probably triggered it was having to tell my co-worker that I could only conditionally agree to work the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, based on whether or not we still live here.

*^%& this state of uncertainty, I say. %$*& it all to heck.

Lonliness

If there is one facet of my newly-married life that I did not expect, it's the lonliness.

It never occurs to me how lonely I am in the day-to-day, happily cleaning my little space, working my little job and cooking our little meals. Don't get me wrong - it's not like I don't enjoy everything about the things I'm doing. I wholeheartedly do.

It never becomes obvious to me that I'm lonely at all until I participate in a social activity some sort, and I can see myself with my inner scrutiy, as it were, from the outside. That's when I become painfully aware that my behaviour reflects incredibly nerdy, manic hyperactivity. I'm positiely starving for contact with human beings. It's shameful I tell you. SHAMEFUL.

Now, I was always talkative and overzealous for social interaction: you should see the family videos displaying Emily Anne at the ages of 2 and 3. They're downright scary. But DARNIT . . . I thought I'd grown out of that.

For instance, when I was at college, I more frequently witnessed myself lying back, relaxing, and just letting social activity "happen", as it were. It was, overall, a more successful way to socialize: I listened to others more often, and it gave everyone else a much more honest representation of my thoughts and personality. I *want* to go back to behaving that way . . . I know what will happen if I don't. I will continue to remain disconnected, socially adrift - and most of all very lonely. However, I have a hunch that the only reason I'm manic in the first place is precisely because I'm lonely.

If only I could break the cycle . . .

Last week, there were a couple of days when severe thunderstorms were roaring through the area. I waited to head out to work one of these stormy mornings until the weather had settled down a bit, and although I'd taken an umbrella, it wasn't raining so I didn't have it up. Walking along the sidewalk, I was quietly minding my own business when I was hit full in the face with a spray of cold water. Confused, I went to put my umbrella up, when I realized that my impromptu shower had been courtesy of this fellow:



Shaking himself dry on the lampost overhanging the sidewalk, he decided to play a joke on me and then sing his little head off as if nothing had happened.

The little brat.

They might not nest in the corncribs, but evidently they're not without some inclination towards mischief . . .

Librarian angst . . .

Oh, the poor fellow. I can relate. An occasional college student receives the term "little monster".

;)

Singing Gators

Turn the volume up and/or use earphones to listen closely. This is a chorus of croaking gators in the swamps to the west of campus.

Worry not - there's a retaining wall to keep them where they are.

A decision

This is an important message for anyone who was planning, hoping or dreaming of visiting us next semester.

Matthew and I have decided to halve our living costs by staying in the dormitory next semester. We're comfy enough, a baby won't be coming for a while, and $3,000 is a lot of cash to save. For all of you prospective visitors: this means we won't have that spare bedroom we were hoping to have, but if you want to visit there will still be a place for you - it'll just be more like visiting T.A.C., that's all.

I'm not unhappy with this arrangement at all, either. I'm comfy - wasn't looking forward to moving again. :p Yuck.



Here's a video (of very low quality, but it's what we could do) of our tiny little home.

Keep all pets (and small children) INSIDE

So, it seems possible that these lovely, oversized housecats called "jaguarundi" inhabit this area - it's reported that Florida does have a population. My husband and I think we saw one run across the road last week. It was either one of the above-pictured, less fearsome jaguarundi or it was one of these lovely things:



However, we think that less likely since it wasn't nearly that big. It could have been a young panther, though, which are dark and/or spotted (this cat was definitely dark, dark brown or black). As far as we have been able to ascertain through research, there isn't much difference between the Florida panther and the California puma we were all taught to fear with stories of devoured joggers and hikers. According to Wikipedia, the Ave Maria settlement was controversial because of the unusually high concentration of Florida jaguars living in this spot.

Fuuuuuuuuunnnn . . .

Now, between these big, hungry kitties and these lovely beasts:



(a fellow graduate student, just yesterday morning, happened upon one about 10 feet long in the swamp behind our new townhomes - oh JOY) we've decided that we're not getting any munchable, outdoor pets and we're never letting the children play outside unattended.

NEVER.

Life in Florida

Sure, it looks nice and comfy.
Don't let it fool you.
If feels like this:


. . . So, yeah, I'm hating the weather. It's like Kansas City in mid-August; only 20 billion times worse. WHY anyone would willfully live here, let alone vacation here, without the pretense of attending the only Thomistic graduate theology program in this country . . . well, that's just beyond me, my friend. Completely unfathomable.


Moreover, I would like to take this moment to say that I now have no reason to doubt that there is no limit to the ineptitude of certain contractors and student life administrators I have had to deal with during the last few days. Don't get me wrong - they're very nice, otherwise likable . . . but pretty much completely unhelpful . . . people. At this moment they're all lucky I haven't eaten them - but my husband tells me this wouldn't be advisable.

Grrrrr.

More later - say a few prayers for us, if you would, k?