Joanna Trollope

I'm reading Joanna Trollope. I really like her writing, parti ularly because she is so honest in delineating how complex women's lives and experiences are, including all the disappointments that a full life contains. In the book I'm reading now - A Spanish Lover - (I cannot find the shift key on E's iPad, therefore can't italicizes - I can see how our language changes and why) looks at twin sisters and their contrasting lifestyles, one a married mother of four with a successful business, the other a single woman who lives somewhat in her twin's shadow, but who eventually discovers her own capacity to run a business and seek out love. It. Isn't hard to guess which twinn takes the Spanish lover. What I love about Trollope's writing is what I've loved about Margaret Laurence's writing - it is the verisimilitude and dark poignancy of the real and everyday.  It isn't an Alice Munroean under the linoleum kind of mythical shadowing, but the seemingly ordinary everyday frustrations and redemptions of more contemporary social experience.  It reminds me of the work of Carol Shields in this way, too. I also like reading about English women because they seem so much more self- assured than the tripped out American women in fiction. Of. Ourse Canadian women in fiction are much more accessible to me.

I just started Kamourouska, which I will read after I finish this book and The Hunger Games, which I found at the express counter at the library on Tuesday. I'm looking forward to a bother Fairmont weekend, with E and I ru Ning away for a mini-break this weekend before the full chaos of our new lives begins with the advent of the new school year.  

 I accepted the program yesterday, but will do it online. I hope it helps lead me work I like. Lying in bed today, I again reflected on how much I learned last year about how little I liked teaching at the U. I had thhought all along that last year was going to be about learning what I could handle work-wise, and I did, but it wasn't what I expected. I learned that I didn't like doing what I set myself up to love. What do you do when that happens? I guess you try again. I think that is Joanna Trollope's message anyway. I will try to heed it.

Run down

I'm so tired. We're about to nap. This was school day #2. I haven't slept much lately. A was thrilled with her first day of grade one and her graduation ceremony. After walking under a little trellis bridge with a grade 8 student, she sat imperiously on a bench and smiled like a royal. Oh dear. She's a drama queen. I'm not sure why I expected anything different.

I spent the morning at the college, trying to determine whether or not they've received my application and if I could possibly commute (I can't). So, where does this leave me? Confused. I'm not sure completing yet another training program (remember I have 5 degrees and have been through 7 college and university programs to date) is the right thing to do. But what else am I to do? I'm burnt out and exhausted. What can I handle? Not a lot, not anything at all right now.

Which is why I'm going to crawl into bed.

A Certain Age

I'm reading A Certain Age by Tama Janowitz. It's depressing. At 32, the protagonist, Florence, is losing it, seeking a wealthy man at all costs. It disturbs me. I'm equally disturbed by my own life's disruptions. I know how disruptive age-related concerns can be.

I had another frustrating call with a service representative this morning. I can imagine it is a tough job, but a polite and positive tone would go a long way to improving communications. Why do people have to make it so hard for other people? Do they get their kicks this way? It is some weird power play.

E has been at a department meeting all day. It is running late, so he won't be home anytime soon. He'll be bringing his daughter to Karate before coming home. His daughter, like his son before her, is somewhat jealous of A. She asked E to prevent A from knocking on her door and asking to come into her room because it "bothers" her. A has done this maybe 2 times since we moved in last week. E's kids are not the kindest souls. They have a hard time considering other people's feelings. I find this problematic, but E seems to think it is perfectly okay. This may well lead to a lot of problems. I'm trying not to get too defensive on A's behalf, but really, a little girl wants to say hi to her older step-sibling, what's the big deal? A spends most of her time drawing in her room while E's kids watch TV or their iPods. I spent the day with her today, going to the library, reading, drawing, and talking. She's a far easier child to entertain than his are. I hope she won't be adversely affected by E's kids bad habits. I'd like to help change those bad habits, but that won't likely go over well with anyone, so I'll just focus on A. 

Lazy Summer Day

It's our first real weekend together and everyone is going in a different direction. E's out picking up his daughter. His son is glued to the television set. A's been drawing and making me presents in her room. I've been reading and making pizza dough for supper. The clearing and sorting continue.

A starts school on Tuesday, graduating from SK and going to first grade. There is a little ceremony for all the grade 1's. It should be nice.

Meanwhile, I had to hunt through stacks of boxes, stored for years in E's furnace closet, looking for student numbers for the last 3 universities I've attended. Thank God I found the numbers, because U of T, for instance, wouldn't tell me my old student number over the phone. Instead, I'd have to pay $10 plus courier fees to have it sent to me, only so that the Ontario Application centre would have the number and would send on the transcripts I've already ordered from them for $10.

I won't even begin to complain about my insurance debacle yesterday. I was treated with utter contempt by a Montreal call centre when my call to RBC from Alymer regarding my Ontario Insurance was routed there. It made me feel as though Francophone Quebecers really hate Anglophone Ontarians. When I said this to E, he said, "Well, most Francophone Quebecers think Anglophone Ontarians hate them."

I doubt it. They couldn't care less what Anglophone Ontarians think of them. I'm worried about the election though, because I only see these tensions getting worse.

Bedding

One thing I've been insistent upon was new bedding. I do not want our married life to start with E's ex's sheets. I found them scratchy and uncomfortable and the design irritated me. Today, we went and bought the highest count 100% cotton sheets and duvet cover that we could find. We increased the duvet size from a Queen to a King, so that E couldn't hog all the covers off me. This purchase was the end result of several days of research, including some failed purchase attempts on Amazon.com, where bedding is advertised with such misleading claims, that it is difficult to determine what exactly you are buying. For example, they list several 1000 thread count sheet sets, but they call them "Egyptian Comfort" sheets. You think you're buying Egyptian Cotton sheets, but they are not 100% Egyptian cotton at all. They are some blend. Tricky. You have to be careful to look for 100% Egyptian Cotton in the headline or you're lost. Then, then . . .  according to some consumer reviews, you could end up with single-thread sheets that are so thin they barely count. So, trickier and trickier. That's why just going to a store and buying something we could touch made sense, even if it cost 4 times more.

The good news is that we'll sleep comfortably tonight.

And . . . I've finished teaching for the summer and applied to a program for the fall.

I'll have to retrain in some professional capacity to have any hope of finding work. I don't know what else to do at this point.

Again, I'm so tired that all I want to do is rest. There is still a lot to process. I am working my way through rooms of boxes and piles of clothes and toys. I haven't even started on my books.

I can't live without my books, but I may have to cull even more from my collection.

For now, I'll enjoy the prospect of a good night's sleep.

Alone at last

I have the house to myself. E's at his office and the kids are finally back at camp. The room is banked with boxes - some from our recent trip to IKEA and some from my place, all of which I must try to address. I'm not sure where to begin. E's been urging me to purge, but that's difficult. I can understand the rationale, but I feel so insecure at this juncture that I cling to things that are familiar, even if they are unecessary to this new life.

This really is a new life. That's difficult to understand. I was in my old neighbourhood downtown yesterday, picking up A from my friend, S, who was watching her while I was teaching. When I arrived outside S's building and A saw me, she started pouting and turned away. She was angry that her plan to visit the dollar store with S was not going to proceed as anticipated. My presence was unwelcome. I was supposed to go away and come back later, so I did. I wandered around the neighbourhood with an iced coffee. I sat in the park and stared up at my old building, the one where I lived for a couple years before meeting A's dad, then for 2 years with her after he left. I wouldn't say that I had any sense of having come a long way since then, but my circumstances have certainly changed drastically. I'm glad I'm not there anymore, but it was not a bad place to be.

I also thought about my friend, maybe just acquaintance, who committed suicide last year by jumping from her balcony in an adjacent building. What a horrible, lonely passing. She was a regular at our local coffee shop, so I'd see her often, but I didn't always want to talk, because often it was too hard to talk to her. She was so immersed in her own pain and despair, that it was frustrating to speak to her because she couldn't seem to listen. Once, I saw her on a park bench with tears streaming down her face. I can't remember what I did. What did I do? What didn't I do? Why didn't I do more? That's what I'm left with. I know she had a difficult family, a failed marriage, health problems, but does that all add up to suicidal depression? What can help? Friends can help. They can. I could have. Maybe. S knew her too and she thinks no one could have really helped. But I'm not so sure.

What do we need to survive? What makes life meaningful? What is our purpose here? What can I do to ensure that no one I know ever feels that low?

I'm just thankful that I'm less alone now than I was back then. I know how difficult it is to be without social support and family support. I hope I can be more helpful in the future.

Sometimes we need to be alone, but not that alone.

Cooling

Summer is ending, and the air is too cool for my comfort. While yesterday was still glorious, the season is nearing its end. A starts school next Tuesday - that's a week away. She's supposed to attend a "graduation" ceremony for the transition from kindergarten to grade 1. I just hope that she'll have a good teacher.

E's kids start school then too. He is anxious to get back to work. I know he has felt frustrated by his output this summer. He is usually far more efficient. I haven't done much of anything myself work wise, but I have accomplished a lot otherwise. Just clearing the house and renting it was huge. The court case was huger. Then there was our whole wedding season, which was of another order of emotional evolution. Moving here has been challenging, too.

What's next? I can't even bear to think about it.

I have to make a plan, but I have nothing to go on. All the changes of the summer, though some were long in the planning (like the wedding) came about so fast that they hardly seem real. Other changes (like the move, the dearth of courses) were entirely unexpected. I conclude that you can't always plan things, and that maybe the things you don't plan are part of some master plan you can't yet understand.

I do wonder what that master plan is, though. And who the master is.