now, let’s lighten things up around here.  it’s time to tell you about my Delta Burke pants.

some background information:

1. delta burke: for those of you who don’t know who delta burke is, let me tell you. delta ramona leah burke is a television actress. (would the proper verb be was? i mean really, where have we seen her lately except on the label of a department store item that you will soon learn about?) she is perhaps best known for her role as Suzanne Sugarbaker on the CBS sitcom Designing Women, which aired for about 7 years in the late 80′s-early 90′s.  a bunch of southern ladies + one african-american ex-convict character = hilarity.  i’ve seen just about every episode, and remember distinctly when dixie carter’s character, julia, chewed out a tax collector named Ray DON, and her eyes got all big and crazy.

delta burke in her suzanne sugarbaker heyday:

tell me that she doesn’t look all 80′s TV-Star who peaks and then devolves into movies of the week and salvages a career by starting an clothing company you can find exclusively at k-mart ala jaclyn smith?

2. in britain, pants = underwear.  so, for this story, pants means underwear.  interestingly, pants is also slang in the UK for screwing things up royally, like “he really pantsed that up”, which — as you will learn — is also not entirely an inappropriate sentiment for this story.  however, i’m an american, so in this story, underwear = underwear.  pants = underwear and underwear = underwear.  basically what i’m telling you is that everything = underwear (as it usually does in life, right)?

*       *       *       *      *

for the last two months, the boy and i have been spending our weekdays 6 hours away in grand junction with his mom during her radiation and chemo treatments.  on the weekends we come home for a few days, but this situation has entailed us keeping everything we need (clothes, food, computers, work) with us at all times.  we’ve been staying with relative of his mom during the surgery and for the first 4 weeks of treatment (6 weeks altogether), but it’s stressful to have people in your house for that long, so we decided to give them a break and stay in a hotel for the last two weeks.  we happened upon a lovely residence inn that had two-bedroom suites with kitchens that would be perfect for what we need, and it is close to the cancer center.  they also have snack and free happy hour, which bodes well for the local college students who are staying there because the college ran out of housing.

they also have a pool and jacuzzi.

now, when i am going to a place with a pool and jacuzzi, i ALWAYS remember my swimsuit, because packing my suitcase and taking a trip is out of the ordinary, and so i think about all the things i need.

unless you’ve been living out of a suitcase for two months.

guess who forgot their swimsuits? (i’ll give you three tries, and the first two don’t count).

no big deal, right?  we’ll just find a cheap swimsuit — since they’ll probably be on clearance this time of year — and call it a day, or just not go swimming. except, his sister was coming to hang out with us and absolutely wanted to go swimming, and she would have been by herself.

let me tell you this: there are NO swimsuits in western colorado in november.  none. zero. swimsuits? nyet. the only swimsuit we could find was $70 at a sporting good stores for, you know, actual swimmers.

plan b.

the boy had some shorts he could wear, so we decided that i could wear the tank top i have to run in, since it’s a swimsuit-y material, if i could just find some shorts, like cheap spandex bike shorts or something.  emphasis on the word cheap, because i want to go swimming, but not like $50 bad. store 1: nothing. store 2: nothing.  stores 3-6, nothing.  at store 6 there was a glimmer of hope with some flourescent volleyball booty-shorts on clearance, but they didn’t have my size.  at least the patterns were hideously ugly, though.  points for ugliness.

grand junction apparently is a desert for something other than just climate.

the boy even found some plaid swim trunks at old navy for $5 that we initially thought were hideous, but have kind of grown on us by now.  we had nearly given up on our little acquatic adventure when hope arrived as we were wandering around ross (dress for less!) waiting for troy’s sister to try on things, in the form of one Delta Burke, actress and apparent underwear apparel magnate.

let’s talk about this: are you seeing how far these things go up?  the picture frame actually cuts off the top of these pants (pants = underwear); i swear they extend about 2 more miles inches up to provide dual action underwear + blindfold purposes.

i’m not sure if that’s how they are supposed to be, but they might stretch that far up because these were 3 sizes too big.  yep. it’s what we call big-girl pants (see also: grandma panties). there are a few reasons for this: one, my choices were either extra-small or 3 sizes too big. yeah, not going to be prancing around in an extra-small anything.  two, these were the only shorts-like pants in the store.  if i’m going to be swimming around in not-a-swimsuit, it’s not going to be in lacy underwear cut up to there — you know what i’m talking about…there.

that’s how i found myself the proud reluctant wearer of $5 underwear from a forgotten 80′s actress, around the pool.   like, in front of actual people, with a steely glare for anyone who dare insult my ridiculous awesome swim-pseud.

no reason for shame, though, because these delta burke pants are going to SWEEP THE NATION, people.  in fact, it’ll be so popular, wearing 3 times too-big underwear, that the new “pull up your big girl pants” will be “hike up your Delta Burke pants.”. i’ll see to it.

don’t mess with me in my Delta Burke Pants.

I love writing, but I hate starting. The page is awfully white and it says, “You may have fooled some of the people some of the time but those days are over, giftless. I’m not your agent and I’m not your mommy; I’m a white piece of paper — you wanna dance with me?” and I really, really don’t.”

– Aaron Sorkin [writer of only my favorite tv show ever
and many, many other fantastic things.]

*      *      *      *      *

the man speaks the truth.

blinking cursor.

blinking cursor.

blink.

blink.

argh.

*      *       *      *      *

addendum: after reading the above to the boy and remarking at how accurately mr. sorkin is reading my freaking mail right now, the boy remarks:

“so what you are telling me is that instead of just freaking writing these articles already, you are instead looking up quotes about not writing by aaron sorkin?”

score: boy, 1, procrastinating girl, 0.

and, as it turns out, i am finding myself in a similar situation.

i don’t own a huge computer company and make millions.

i don’t have nor am recovering from pancreatic cancer.

i am nowhere near as famous or powerful as steve jobs.

but, nevertheless, this week, i have left a job that i respect and love very much to focus on my health.

a public forum such as this one is certainly no place to go into details of such matters, for obvious reasons; however, this does not mean the subject is taboo.  i am most certainly willing and able to discuss the complexity of the situation in a manner that involves actual human contact.  i am not a pariah; i am not suffering away on some deathbed; i did not leave my job in a blaze of burning bridges.  suffice it to say, i developed some health issues over the last few months that became more problematic and alarming (not terminal, or life-threatening, so as to not freak anyone out) enough that it became clear that there was something wrong that was getting worse despite many attempts at a remedy.  in order to figure out what that is, i had to step away from teaching, hopefully temporarily.

i do not know when i will return.

i do not know if i will return.

i do not know what’s next.

i do know that this was an incredibly difficult decision made as easy as it could be by my sainted husband, my family, the staff at my school and my wonderful colleagues who i miss already.

i do know that i am taking a mandatory vacation for the next several weeks.

i do know that i’ve joined an online book club, and eaten much chocolate in the last few days.

i do know the one who is in charge of my life, and trust him implicitly.

i am hopeful.

for me.

and steve jobs.

so i stopped asking.

and i think i’ll begin again.

it’s good to think of things that are good.

i heard one of my lovely fellow teachers ask one of her students (in the midst of said student poring over the bleakness of her angsty teenage present) to tell her something good.  but she added something to this that i’ve literally thought about for days now; she said:

“tell me some legitimately positive things that are happening right now — not just the absence of a bad thing, but a positive thing.”

i never really thought of it that way.

such a subtle distinction, the kind that i implore the big brains in my care to notice, but an important one.

good things are not just the absence of bad things.  we need to not just be thankful the bad is at bay (or perhaps is not) but see the good.

this same teacher has resumed writing on her blog about 5 things that make her happy each day.   reading it is a small bit of lovely each day.   it reminds me of my well-worn, dog-eared, highlighted and written-in book that my grandmother gave me: 14,000 things to be happy about. leafing through this book is like taking a long walk with an old friend; remembering the goodness in the past helps me to see the goodness in the present, amidst my wildly unsure footing.

so.

here are my five good things for today:

- for feeling a bit steadier and having more anticipation for my job than i have in the previous weeks.

- doing the dishes while listening to band of horses

- for a sincere “thank you” from someone who recognized and appreciated the mercy shown to him

- dinner with my husband

- for a well-timed phone call from a friend last night

it’s my bed.

my favorite place right now, that is.

guess where i am right now as i type this?

yep.

my friday night plans involve having to write a paper (boo)… but from the gloriousness that is my bed (yay!)

i don’t know if it’s because it’s the only place i pretty much stop these days

because i go go go go go

and think think think think think

and plan plan…

i’m too tired to even finish the repetition.

don’t get me wrong

life is good.

FULL.

but good.

and a little, but heavenly, part of that is because of

my bed.

be my valentine, bed.

and i’ll make you these sweet pillows.

perhaps it’s the crazy fuzzy amazing sheets with which my mom graced my bed

or that it’s big enough for me to stretch out, snow-angel style

or because it’s quiet and calm

but

i have never, ever loved my bed as much as i do right now.

the only thing missing

is

a french boyfriend

with whom to cuddle in bed

but

that’ll come in about four months.

ode to my bed.

you are the best.

bedder than ever.

fin.

this picture really doesn’t do anything
to help my immense dislike of ginger.
or cauliflower.

saucy, aren’t they? can i pull them off?  we’ll find out…

— Ray Bradbury

well, as it turns out, i don’t like to do that very much.  i mean, i like to try new things, but only if i’m assured that a) they will work, b) i will like it, c) i will be successful at it, d) i won’t look like an idiot, e) i can confidently know what i’m doing.  i didn’t realize i was such a wuss.  i mean, i have inner wuss most of the time, but i force myself eventually to just plunge into the difficult and unknown.

but it makes me all fussy.

exactly the wrong kind of qualities to have when you want to, say, date someone who has never met anybody you’ve ever known and doesn’t live in your city.  or change careers.  or go to college.  or teach.  or anything adventurous or fun.

i’m not going to lie, trying new things is like travelling to me — exciting mostly in retrospect.  there are moments, like when i first spied the notre dame in paris, where i get really excited RIGHT THEN.  but then, my feet start to hurt, i miss people who aren’t on the trip with me, i get hungry or tired and just want to go back to the familiar.

and then, months and years later, i remember it as SO AMAZING.

i’m hoping that’s how i will feel about this time in my life.  you know, some day soon.

last night, like with many nights, i was exhausted in mind but my body coud not seem to hoist this big elephant off my chest and settle down.  so, at 10:15pm, i dragged the boy out with me to go on a walk, in the misty rain.  we walked so far, and so fast, that before i knew it it was 11pm and we found ourselves at a mcdonalds downtown.  it took me 45 minutes of cold nervous walking just to get it all out.

now i know what my friend kristin means about running just to work things out, not even really for exercise.

for as difficult and new as everything feels right now…

we’re going to need a lot more walks.

i have to remind myself of what the alternative is — that my life at points has felt safe, comfortable, boring and frustrating.  when i felt this last, i moved to seattle.

it’s fitting that the days that i realize i’m yet in another stage of this, the weather is misty, grey, coldish.

it’s my seattle again.

yeah, we’re going to need a lot more walks.

for a teaching job.

and i haven’t finished, you know, learning how to teach yet.  i graduate next may.

it’s an interesting opportunity, and given more time perhaps i will share all the details.  you know, when i know more, etc.

but needless to say, it’s exciting, it’s compelling, it’s TERRIFYING.

i always want to be impressive in interviews, but i almost don’t want to be too over the top impressive.  sometimes i reach the point where i feel like i’m getting all show and no go.  i need to channel my inner brit, and tone it down a little

i have extra copies of my updated resume, my (first ever) lesson plan, my clip from the office that i am showing to intro my 15-minute mini-lesson, my trusty notes, and i dug out my old businessy togs from the Closet of My Former Life.  oh, and i have a dearth of enthusiasm.

i’m ready.  let’s hope.

my mother tells me to stop gesticulating so much.  good advice.

goodnight!

p.s. could this possibly be a worse week for an interview for a job for which i have not quite yet finished my education?  finals, two research papers, of which one’s rough draft is entirely overdue (please have mercy on me, professors), a novel and a comic book to finish, education analysis due…OY.  oh well.  lemonade.  or at least, some lemon desserts.