One more week of summer----ish.....

Nothing like feeling summer is over than I did as I drove to SUNY Fredonia yesterday to once again don my "professor" hat. I'm adjunct, so the pay sucks, but there are weird perks to my part-time status (but not ones I'd have any problem immediately chucking to the curb for a full-time, mind you...).

I teach at night twice a week so I still have the whole day to do my Judy-thing in the burbs.
I really have no departmental responsibilities, and as long as my students aren't staging a mutiny or rioting in the halls, I come and go (especially now that my classes start after 5pm).
I have keys to all office needs, audio components and building rooms. I am autonomous.
I have small classes and cool students.
I am highly organized.
I love the town of Fredonia and have found a few hiding spots for cheap food and beers (the latter after class, of course....)
I love the content of my classes, both of which I taught last year (history of pop music in US; music and romanticism--a class that I have created from scratch---yahoo!!).
I can upload all necessary assignments/whatnot from home.
I am still able to feel slightly academic and scholarly but also reflects my "gray area" status as the Momertator.

*sigh*

But, as the days creep closer to my son going back to school and my tax dollars providing me with 7hours of uninterrupted writing time, I see another year ahead in which my theme song will surely be "The Hustle," complete with dance moves, disco balls, and several smoke machines. Adjunct is one job, piano students is another, churchy duties another, and I think I still need some other "thing" to $ettle my delicate micro-economic i$$ue$.

I've been thinking all summer about what this mystery job could be. I don't want to be "trained" to do anything. I mean, for chrissakes. I also don't want any traces of this job to come home with me. No prep is the goal. Something silly in which I already have the tools to go and come and have some fresh Benjamins (both Franklin and Walter, btw) in pocket. Hm.

I think today will be the day that this illusive idea pokes my buzzing brain. Today, Anders, my truly wonderful friend from Wisconsin, and his girlfriend are visiting as they drive from Mass to Madison. This will be the grad-school jolt I need, me thinks. Our plan is to go get chicken wings (no eye-rolling. Those visiting The Buff MUST partake in this ritual), grab some beers to bring home (Buff Ritual #2), and slurp our way into the night poolside at the Brady abode (recently added Ritual #3). Pool heater is on and the list of prep duties will commence after this post. With Anders, my son, my boyfriend and my plan for the next 24 hours all occurring under my own roof, I think I can still be part of summer, part of academia, and part of a creative job-i-ness. Yes? "Do the Hustle....."

Any suggestions on a good McJob are welcomed. Happy Wednesday!

"summer cold....makes me feel baaaaaaad...."

That title is best when sung to the tune of "Summer Breeze" by Seals & Crofts. Ugh.

I don't think I have ever had a summer cold this bad, nor do I even remember having a friggin' summer cold. Dammy damn. I think it comes from the weird energy loop that occurs after you take a great vacation (in my case, five weeks as Dissertator) only to then come home (resume the Momertator) and get really really sick. The Momertator's energy level, organizational prowess, and overall control of life has been in a tailspin since my son came home on Aug. 6. I don't do well with extremes, and while it's been GREAT to have him home and to feel that Mom-part of the Momertator again, holy canoli my brain has been a jumble of Dissertation guilt, pool parties, charades (dinosaurs, ninjas and lions mostly), cooking regular meals, no naps, school supplies, scheduling conflicts and a whole host of other whatnots. I have not opened my Diss files since, well, I'd have to look, but it feels like forever, although I did rearrange and clean my office while rearranging and cleaning my son's room. Oy vey, I say.

My head feels like it's in a vice and that I'm completely immersed in a high-pressure watertank. Nothing is getting rid of this snot-clogged mass, and today I'm going to the nearest Six Flags amusement park with friends and kids. Perhaps if I get on the Round-Up and spin my way into oblivion, something will fling loose in the ol' noggin. Better green goop than brain cells, but any relief is welcomed.

In more fun news, my son grew almost an inch while in Denver. Something in the water? The Rocky Mountain air? I have also gotten much better at playing basketball (a sport which I have always sucked) although the net is lowered for my son's height. Hee hee. Our garden is blooming, my teaching gig $tart$ Tuesday, my piano students are lined up for the fall schedule, my son has reconnected with friends and family (and me!), and the chilly nights in The Buff demonstrate a slow crawl towards autumn colors and pumpkins. Life is good. I'm hoping my sense of smell returns soon. I love this time of year as the sunlight and smells change.

We saw Bob Dylan on Tuesday--3 generation of Bradys witnessed Bobby D. My mother is only slightly older than Bob, and she enjoyed seeing a "legend" in person. My son dug the whole thing in his own interesting way. The concert was good, although even as Bob's voice has often been criticized for its breach of singing/speaking/growling through hours of lyrics, I must admit that "singing" is not part of the live Dylan experience anymore. His band was AMAZING, as is his usual M.O for live shows, and he reworked several classics ("Tangled Up in Blue" especially) to suit his more retro-swing/rockabilly approach of late. What a summer I've had.

I start teaching college kids on Tuesday. I have not begun any sort of syllabus, but I have taught both classes in the past, so my panic button is still in the drawer. I have no idea when this will get done, but it will. Momertator is in full swing.

As for the Diss.......I have to talk with my adviser SOON and did not progress as much as we had anticipated. When my son goes back to school, I have open days to write. That's the theory, anyway. Keep ya posted.

Off to pack snacks, bathing suits, and other day-long goodies to necessitate Six Flags with a head cold. Viva la vida......

Mom + Dissertator = Momertator

So this is the day things get interesting, or as I must admit, back to "normal." Shortly, I leave for the Cleveland airport to pick up my son who has been in Denver with his dad for five weeks. FIVE WEEKS! It feels like an eternity since he left yet simultaneously like it was yesterday. What the hell have I been doing for five friggin' weeks?

I can say that I rediscovered how much I enjoy writing and have gotten better at it.
I can say that I started "practicing"/playing piano at random in my living room during writing breaks and that it feels good. I've missed doing that.
I can say that I made progress on my Diss, for sure.
I can say that I had time to myself and to enjoy others doing various things that I don't do the other 11 months of the year.
I can say that I miss my little guy and enjoy motherhood. A lot.

I am certainly not the only Momertator out there, and I know many dedicated and ambitious Dadertators. In the whole "in-takes-a-village" scheme of things, being a Momertator has pushed my Taurus nature to act on all sorts of behaviors not high on the list---like asking for help and accepting it. So, as my Momertator slowly wakes from five weeks of hibernation, I have to acknowledge Granparentators, Friendertators, Neighbortators, Babysittertators, and so on that aid me through the quagmire of this crazy state I'm in (and I don't mean New York right now). Being a Momertator means finding the right village and then building the supportive metropolis. And I'm grateful and inspired for all of it.

I'm so nervous and excited right now that I could chew through my ceramic Pottery Barn coffee cup. For real. My Word docs. probably won't see the light of day for a bit (I'm guessing by Tuesday I can carve out a few blocks of time to write....thanks Grandmatator!) but I am OK with that. Time is relative, and I want to enjoy the rest of my little B's summer with him. So let's crank up the pool heater (Momertators quickly learn that money is relative, too) and enjoy August in The Buff.

While I accomplished a lot since July 7, and although EVERYONE tells me that I will be "fine" and that I will finish this Diss, the Momertator voice inside my head can throw me a curve ball from time to time. And it's unsettling. Let's see if I can harness some of her more nefarious whispers.....well, how about, "Will all this effort toward a PhD be worth the time away from your son?" or better yet, "You will not finish and your son will see you as a big ol' Failure," OR
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!? YOU ARE EXHAUSTED AND CRANKY. Throw in the towel, dummy!!!" The latter can usually be quashed by an immediate powernap, but on some days......

One month til B's school starts and 3 weeks til I start the college gig. It's going to go fast. I hope I can keep all of these balls in the air, and I really think that when I walk across the stage to finally receive this degree, I'll be handed an honorary "PhD--Juggler" as well. Maybe all of us "Tators" will, too.

Momertator will emerge at 3pm Eastern time as B's flight from DEN touches down in CLE........keep ya posted, as I smile and juggle, of course.

"pure relaxation"

This was the label--"pure relaxation"--for the massage I received on the way home from Lake Meade on Sunday. We all stopped at a day-spa for a little bit of pre-home-arrival pampering. And it was worth it. The massage and the weekend getaway, I mean. Pure relaxation, indeed.

Besides hankering down for a weekend of boating, eating, drinking and talking with my gal pals, two other pleasantries came my way: my laptop served us well at the lakehouse for tunes of all sorts and reasons; I got to see two brief, wild, and woolly thunderstorms overtake Lake Meade. Interesting friends, interesting music, and interesting weather!?!?!? These things make me happy.

During the second storm on Saturday (the first only lasted 20 minutes before sunshine reappeared), we settled around the big dining table for "The 80s Game" brought into the mix by Kelly. Of course, I raced to the computer to throw on some 80s tunes, and several spontaneous sing-a-longs accompanied our attempts to remember trivia from our teenage years (yes, I'm dating myself. Hi ho.). Duran Duran, Cyndi Lauper, Bruce, Prince, Crowded House, AC/DC, Robert Plant, Pat Benatar, so on. I got stumped by a "music" question about the song ABC wrote about as a tribute to Smokey Robinson......anyone?......anyone? "When Smokey Sings" has been bouncing around the ol' noggin since. Damn! What threw me was hearing "ABC" and thinking it was the television station, not the English pop band also responsible for "Shoot that Poison Arrow" and "The Look of Love." Mon dieu!!!!

When I teach my Pop Music course to college students BORN in the 80s, I'm always amazed at how crazynutso that decade was--musically and otherwise. It was a very diverse and schizophrenic decade, IMHO. From The Grateful Dead to The Who to Rick Astley to Billy Ray Cyrus to The Cult to Madonna to Whitney to WHAM! to Aerosmith to Metallica.......head's a-spinnin.' My college undergrads are (usually) surprise and/or amused that this is the decade that I still hold dear to my aging heart. But you can't go back to high school (and, why would you want to) but there is something about the years of it and the soundtrack of it that make for a fun game of trivia during a thunderstorm at a magnificent lakehouse with pals. The "Me Decade," for real.

So, thanks girls for a great weekend and for those of you not there, it was the relaxation, contemplation and interaction that we all should make time for. One day left of Diss writing, and I'm back in the Chair, but much more energized and confident. Cheers to the Girls Weekend and reliving the tunes that got us there!

Jaws 8

So 8 women, almost all married, almost all with kids and/or various combinations of all or neither, are heading to Lake Meade in PA today til Monday. The other night when I turned on the tube to be lulled to sleep, I caught the end of Jaws and the beginning of Jaws 2 (must have been some kind of marathon because as I forward the time on the Channel Guide, Jaws 3 was next on deck). I was bemused by the little town of Amity knowing I'd be in the little town of Lake Meade for the weekend. Funny how things come around like that.

Even though Buffalo sits on a lake (Erie), the "lake towns" are a bit farther west on the I-90 but don't quite have the shabby-chic character of Amity (or the rogue sharks). Most are sandy and beachy with just little delis and no crazy police chief waving guns at beachcombers (although the police are puh-retty strict and rack up thousands of dollars in DUIs each summer. Careful out there.) I often think that when I retire--which implies that at some point I'll have a job to retire FROM--I'll sell my lovely little house in the 'burbs and purchase a year-round beach house with a kick-ass view of the lake from my kick-ass porch. These daydreams make me happy.

Imagine what kind of music playing systems/audio technologies will exist by the time I retire...since each of my girlfriends was "assigned" various tasks and things to bring to Lake Meade by our friend the hostess, I gleefully saw next to "Judy" the words "coffee, tunes." I deliberated how to respond to such an abso-frickin-lutely appropriate task being the highly caffeinated musicologist that I am. Nano? All of my mix CDs from my car? Hmmmmm....

Well, after I publish this post, I'm shuttin' down the PowerBook, unplugging the Creatures, and loading the whole sha-bang into my backpack. What else is there to do? Who knows what music such a gaggle of girls will suggest, and I simply must be able to provide. My iTunes tells me I have 16 full days of music in it. Certainly, I won't fail the gals (except my one friend, who is lovely and crazy like the rest of us, knows every word to every rap/hip hop song from 1984 through the 90s. For real. I'm a little nervous about various holes in my catalog on that one.....). Either way, today's technology will serve us well, me thinks. Nano for the car, laptop for the lakehouse. Wish me luck and watch for sharks.