If they're grown up, what does that make me?

My oldest son is doing the "moving out" thing. He's 19 and remarkably mature in some ways, remarkably and adorably naive in others. While one part of me is encouraging his independence (shoo! Out of the nest...fly!), the other half of me loves that I can still be his mom. Of course, now it's 'advising him' not telling him what to do!

It's nice to be needed. It's also kind of cool when your kids realize a: you're human, and b: sometimes you really do know what you're talking about because you've been there, done that.

By the way, speaking of being way grown up - my lovely daughter and her husband have decided to make me a g...gr.....grandmother! Come February-ish, I'm going to have to get used to that name. While I do not look or feel like a g..gr..grandmother, I'm ecstatic that such a happy, joyous, miraculous thing is going on in my daughter and I can't -wait- to spoil that child rotten.

However, never, ever forget (say it): I'm 26 in my head.

May your day be blessed

Today was neat, I experienced something new. My employer has family who are Tibetan Buddhists, and she'd attended the lectures last weekend given by visiting Lamas. She also arranged to have our place of business blessed. Brought up by a history teacher (who also teaches world religions), I've always had a curious and open mind about the world's cultures, philosophies and beliefs. Being on the sidelines of this event was an honor. My employer and friend has had a hard year and I truly believe the spirit of today's blessing did her a lot of good. The rest of the day was unusually good, and even someone with an agnostic bent like me felt the benefits of such a positive encounter.

I'm interested in some of the lectures given by the lamas -I admire scholars of anything, really - to know and explore a subject you're passionate about is a great thing.

Blotch & Opera

Willow leaf 'blotch miner', an insect that strips the chlorophyll from willow leaves, has blazed through my neighborhood. I live in a very willow-y area on Farmer's Loop, and my yard is populated with Birch, Aspen, and tons of willow trees. This time of year it's normally a very lush and leafy green but the bugs have made all the willow leaves brown. The trees don't die, unless they get hit by repeated outbreaks, so that's good news. I've only been here two summers, but it's my Grandparent's house and I don't remember seeing this in the years they summered here.

Here's a few pictures, you can see the color difference in the trees.

Change of subject - I saw the Opera last week. Opera Fairbanks did a semi-staged production of "Tosca" and it was great. Some incredible talent from the Metropolitan Opera alongside some of our very talented locals. It was a treat, and I happened to have a date who appreciates classical music. He's also a dog person, is a perfectly pragmatic complement to my emotional side, and he cooks. I may have to marry him.

I have a huge range of music tastes, but my mood dictates opera at times - I had it on in the car the other night and my youngest son gave me a look. "Mom," -the look- "is that OPERA". He'll find a place for it in his life at some point - he's been brought up with classical music interspersed with all the other genres I like. He just picked up on the funk first. He's always had rhythm.

I love duets, voices rising and falling over each other, I particularly like male voices, I guess because some of the female voices can be shrill or too overbearing. But the more I explore the more voices I find that appeal to me. Sunday morning is opera time. Coffee, sun on the deck, leaves blowing, open windows, airy light house, a beautiful duet of intermingling voices weaving in and out - that's my idea of a relaxing morning.

Pavarotti - Recondita Armonia (from "Tosca", Puccini) (sit through the introductory 40 seconds of applause, c'mon, it's Pavarotti)- The guy who did this at the Opera Fairbanks production, Mathew Edwardsen, sang it beautifully.

Science guys make me hot

Congratulate Bill Nye, The Science Guy, for he has just been added to Amy's list of sexy men. When my kids were small, Bill Nye was a regular part of our day, and he's adorably geeky.

My kids were little science bugs. I'd gone back to school to be a biologist and my kid's brains were full of all sorts of biology concepts and ideas they absorbed from my coming home with "Guess what I did today?!" They got to visit my labs, see neat critters, go on field trips, etc. I collected a group of fellow students and we'd visit my kid's class rooms and give presentations on fish morphology, pond life, coral reefs, habitats, you name it.

And so, we were all enthralled with Bill Nye, who's show fit right into our interests. Notice I include myself - Bill Nye's show was great for grown ups, too. I loved it.So Bill gets points for adding so much to my own personal experience as well as to that of my kids. Thanks Bill!

Bill Nye is cute/sexy in that dorky geek kind of way. Yes, I am attracted to 'geeks' - I like intelligent men who are attractive by virtue of the excitement and enthusiasm they display for something that fascinates them. Who get enthused by what's in pond water. Who trip over their words in sheer excitement when they've written a good chunk of code. Who look up at the sky, or at a leaf, or at a number sequence in wonder. I -like- that. Part of Bill Nye's job as a TV personality is to convey that excitement and instill it in viewers - well, he does a great job. My kids were inspired and I was inspired right along with them. Thanks Bill!

Outside of his TV stuff, he's sharing, inventing, and living his science, from his involvement in the Planetary Society promoting space exploration to being conscious of reducing his own carbon footprint. I love this guy. Thanks Bill!

Quick, someone get me a margarita

My profile says "44" now, and it is true. I'm havin' a birthday.

I'm still 26 in my head.

It's been a good weekend.

Time flows, gears shift, pieces click into place. It's a slow process but I feel it happening and though I am impatient, I know everything is moving in the right direction.

I don't know why I expect transitions in life to be immediate and clearly defined. Some transitions are easy to pinpoint. Riding in a boat down the Chena river you can clearly see the transition from the dark waters of the Chena to the silty, light colored Tanana. Borders between states, those pieces of paper called college degrees, a marriage license or divorce decree, the day you get in car accident that leaves you seriously injured - those are transitions where "before" and "after" are distinct and separate, marked by that incident or occurrence that causes the change or difference.

But how's that go? "Life's a journey, not a destination". Most change occurs over time, and it's not always clear when it began, or where it ends. When I went through the break up of my marriage, there were some very clearly defined changes: living arrangements, finances, raising children pretty much alone. But some things that I expected to transform simply did not. Not instantly, anyway.

A friend once told me my soul was screaming for a revolution.

It didn't happen, but it's happening.

Blammo

Facebook exploded two days ago.

I'd originally signed up because my daughter was using it kept sending me stuff about it. I signed up, garnered a friend list of about 9 people, most of whom were related to me. Small group, totally manageable. I also typically use Facebook on my iTouch, which means it doesn't have all the extra bells & whistles (farms? wth). Very low key, non spammy, a check-every-couple-days sort of Facebook.

I'm not really a networker and I'm not particularly social. One way of dealing with depression for me was to keep my world very small and under control. When I was a gamer-chick, I was in contact with hundreds of people but they were neatly compartmentalized and separated from my 'real' life. I didn't share personal details with everyone, and I've always been conscious about privacy on the internet. A handful of friends actually new my name and what state I lived in, but for the most part I was there to game and kept my personal life out of it.

So the other day an old friend popped up and sent a friend request. I'd been out of contact with her for quite awhile, but have always considered her a fixture in my life so I confirmed. Then -blammo- I received a bunch more request in one day. Apparently HER friend list was much bigger than mine and included a group set up for graduates of my high school. Suddenly names that I hadn't heard in 20+ years were popping up on my screen.

At first I must admit this caused me some anxiety.

But after tentatively touching base with a few of them it started to feel comfy. Though I don't see most of these people EVER, many of them have known me since kindergarten. And there's something about people who know you and whom you have known since childhood that makes them special. When we're children, we are our basic selves, and whatever you do in life some aspect of that kid you were lingers.

I suppose that's what facebook is about - that oddly reassuring feeling when someone reaches out and says 'omg found you!' We do like belonging, don't we?

Here I am. Shit has happened, life flows on, but I'm still that kid you met in first grade on the swings.

In your dreams

I don't use drugs, my dreams are frightening enough. -M.C. Escher

I read an article in Scientific American on whether or not there is an adaptive purpose for dreaming. The theories are pretty straight forward - simulation of threat scenarios, problem solving, and "brain conditioning".

I like this analogy: “For all we know, dreaming might be a kind of screen saver in which it doesn’t really matter what the content is as long as certain parts of the brain are active.”

We're so personally connected to our dreams, they affect us physically and emotionally - I bet some people don't like the screen saver idea. I imagine that the possibility that the actual content of our dreams is irrelevant would freak some people out.

I'd never considered dreaming as a 'costly signal' thing, where you're conveying (to a predator? competitor?) something like "I'm so strong that I can waste energy doing something apparently useless like dreaming, so don't waste your time messing with me." - that's kind of cool:

"McNamara argues that dreaming can best be understood also as a type of costly signal. He points out that REM sleep is associated with increased mortality, particularly with respect to the irregular activity of the cardiovascular system. He also notes that human males “waste” a lot of otherwise good penile erections during REM sleep. Also, many of the awkward, embarrassing, anxiety-producing experiences from our more negative dreams tend to filter into our waking life, leaving a sort of lingering emotional residue that puts us at an adaptive disadvantage by compromising our everyday social interactions. The bottom line, according to McNamara, is that if we can “afford” to have REM sleep and still be players in the reproductive game, then we’re essentially communicating to others (presumably, others who are watching us sleeping or infer that we’ve done so) that we’re in possession of high-quality genes."

Stop wasting those penile-erections, guys.

Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake.
-Henry David Thoreau

I persistently have two common dream types - flying dreams (which are exhilarating), and chase dreams - someone/something pursuing me and I'd either escape or find some way to disable whatever/whomever it was. I had a vivid dream of being chased by a robber - somehow I knocked him out and, in order to ensure his incapacitation, broke both his legs by jumping on his shins - creepily vivid.

Those 'action/adventure' dreams are fun, almost like movies. But that same dream with one of my kids in it? NOT fun, whole different flavor. I had dreams about strangers in the house, about losing one of my kids, or about them being in danger that left me shaking and full of adrenaline. I have a recurring one about BEARS getting in between my youngest son and I. He's 6'5" now and nearly grown up, but in my dreams he's little.

There's a place I vacationed growing up, a remote-ish beach in Michigan that I dream of all the time, usually I'm trying to get there.

I love the dreams you don't want to wake up from - the one's where you're flying, arms spread, over open water (in mine, I fly like a dragonfly does) - or those, uh, you know other dreams that leave us with warm, lingering sensations.

Only in our dreams are we free. The rest of the time we need wages. -Terry Pratchett

Song of the Day, a lullaby Satellite