Wednesday, January 28, 2009

away...

I am just adapting to my new school schedule. My son (who is 29 years old today) looked at my schedule in horror because I have 3+ hour gaps on each day. He doesn't understand - I didn't want to come to school like last semester and hustle from class to class and then race home. Why be at a place like Berkeley and NOT experience it. I can't live here so having time to actually hang out is really important - plus, I can use my laptop to do homework and goof off too.

It was a choice. It was hard last night because I left campus at 7;30pm and didn't get home for an hour and then I had to leave at 6am - this left little time to do much at home so I basically didn't do much. The hard side of this is that, as you know, my pooch Bogey was diagnosed with bone cancer last December so he has to wear a splint that basically MUST be there forever. He has adapted nicely so far and gets around quite well - he also uses it to smash things (another story) - but it also means he tries to get it off so when I am not around he eventually will tear at it. This means I've tried to enroll other people to keep one eye on him as they can. Wednesdays I haven't solved yet but I'm hoping my refi will go through and allow me to hire someone for that day - they can clean too :) Until I sort that out we are all pitching in to keep him safe.

I have told myself not to feel guilty for not staying home with him. He lays around a lot and would simply lay around with me home too - that is just how it is. I give him lots of love and attention when I do get home and 3 days a week I am there all the time. it needs to be enough for my conscience.

Today, in class, they reviewed a nonfiction piece I wrote Monday. The thing is - I can't tell them that - that the piece was written between classes on Monday - it would make some of them uncomfortable.

As it turns out - the piece rather rocks - that is basically what I was told. One of the things that really got a lot of talk was the juxtaposition of specific detail against vague characters. I write the piece in third person present tense as in "She opened the door..." - I never identify anyone except in relationship each to the other so you have Her mother or His father - I did this to allow the reader to shape the characters as they see fit - even though this is nonfiction and based on very real people. I also rely a lot on metaphor and a sort of ominous tone. It was fun to write.

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