Bluestocking

I have the oddest sense of having gotten a lot done today for no good reason.  It's deceptive, this.  I suppose the reality will come crashing down on me tomorrow....

I did get some things done, true enough.  I found a silly little freeware program that allows me to put electronic post-it notes on my computer screen, and my GOD, what a brilliant thing that is.  (Yeah.  I know.  It's been around forever, but I just thought to install it now.)  I have a post-it fetish anyway (it's a teacher thing.  you wouldn't understand.), and now I can make these little reminders that are right there in the way of every electronic thing I try to do.  It's a good thing.  It's a very good thing.  Thanks to them, I have gotten three or four nagging little tasks taken care of and others will get done either tonight before bed or first thing in the morning when I arrive at school.  My goal will be to clear away all the post-its each day.

I find my fingers itching to get more done, though, things I can't even start yet.  I want to start working on the collaboration between my classes and an international teacher's class, but that's not something I can control from my end.  I've sent the email to IREX, and I'm waiting to hear back from them.  I hope that will actually happen.  It's exciting to think I might be able to present my students with that opportunity, and I want to start getting the logistics out of my head and into reality.

And then, of course, there's the Fulbright.  I keep thinking about it, about the countries they listed.  My three haven't changed.  I keep thinking about what it might be like to spend three to six months in any of those places, actually to be able to wake up and know I was there in the morning, and I swear I absolutely am ready to pack my bags and get on the plane tomorrow.  Every conversation I have where members of my own family look at me with that sort of blank, uncomprehending stare when I try to talk makes me want to go faster.

I don't understand why that's happening, or why every time I try to express how happy or excited I am about something related to Brazil or even to the trip to Washington I just went on, I have to be told that "You have to remember it's not like that for everybody," or "Not everybody would enjoy something like that," as if somehow it's wrong for me to like traveling, going, seeing, like I'm doing something shameful.  There's no point in even trying to share what I see or what happens on my trips anymore.  I get a dim smile, a disinterested "that's nice," and then the conversation is deliberately turned away to something that happened at church last week.

Why is it so wrong for me to want this?  There are always a million question trying to pick holes in everything.... This could go wrong, or this, or this, or are you sure they're really going to take you?  Are you really sure the program is reliable?  Isn't three months a long time?  It's never, "Wow!  You got picked for a program that's nationally competitive?  Great!"  or "You're living out a dream to see the world?  Go for it!"  It makes me feel small and bad, like they think I'm stupid or gullible, worse not to have anyone to share it with when I come home.

I guess I am officially that embarrassing bluestocking "spinster" daughter who doesn't have enough sense to be ashamed that she didn't manage to catch some man, ANY man, and have children.  Everything about me seems to be humiliating, my friends, my hobbies, my clothing, my need for travel, my love of tech, my penchant for grabbing my camera and disappearing on my own schedule, since all of it causes a change of topic if I start talking about it, or a not-so-subtle comment that I'm getting "too into" whatever it is.  But, really, haven't I been this way all my life?  What's changed now?  Why is it just now that everything about me is wrong?

What is they want me to do with my life?  It didn't work out to be "happy families" for me.  That doesn't mean I can't be happy.  That doesn't mean I have to sit my entire life on the sidelines waiting for an escort or a savior, does it?  I by God won't.  Nobody should have to wait for someone else to help them live.  We're complete in and of ourselves, aren't we?  If we're lucky enough to find somebody who will come along for the ride, then we're blessed.  It's not that I don't want that, but until I find that, if I ever do, am I expected to sit twiddling my thumbs or building clumsy mantraps with my inadequate skills at coquetry?  There are so many other things out there so much more worthy of my time.

Truth be told, even though it hurts me, I am tired of trying to figure it out.  I don't think I can.  This is who and what I am, at least in this present iteration.  I'm sorry that it doesn't apparently measure up to what they wanted.  I guess every family has to have one oddity, right?  Look at me as fulfilling that roll, sit me in a corner at the next family gathering with my iPhone so I can check in on the digital world where there are at least a couple of people who can be said to "get me," and I guess we'll all just keep rolling along.....