Alexander's Maitresse

"Hi Mom, I'm leaving the college dorm now and coming back home."

2010-08-29T21:51:00.006-04:00

This morning, A moved in to his new freshman dorm at university. The hubby took the responsibility of moving my son in to school, allowing me to rest after a full day of cleaning yesterday.

The instructions we received were "Move in from 7 a.m. until 10 a.m." Which to us, meant "Arrive by 6:45 a.m. or else." A arrived at his dorm before his roommate, a student from his B-school with whom he mutually chose to dorm, who was still traveling from Seoul, Korea. Nobody else had arrived in the two-room, four-person dorm, either. A picked his bed, his desk, etc. and then he and the hubby went to get an espresso at the nearby hip cafe that does latte art. They returned to the dorm, and left to the next location to promptly line up to obtain A's student ID.

As the hubby prepared to leave, something curious happened. They both decided to come home.

"Excuse me? He's coming back?" I ask the hubby.
"Yeah. He wants to pick up more stuff from home and take it back to the dorm."
"Uh-huh."

I started making snacks and smoothies. Less than two hours after move-in, they were back home in 30 minutes flat.

I had anticipated tissue and Tylenol to get me through the emotions of separation today - what will surely be not more than two weeks' worth of empty-nest syndrome. Instead, I wondered, "Does A not want to be there? What do I do now?" The hubby assured me that A was clearly on a mission, and that it was just to pick up more stuff from home. I, on the other hand, was now surprisingly ready to walk around the house in my underwear - or even nude, if necessary - to demonstrate my readiness to have a few days of alone time, and to nudge the bugger back out of the house.

Now at the house, A put his guitar amp in his empty duffel bag. I put a few necessary items in the bag, too. Then he called up a friend from B-school who is attending the Ivy League school in our city, and declared, "I really don't think I need to go back to my dorm today."

Me. Preparing. To. Get. Naked.

But seriously, I realized that the new roommate's absence left A, a social butterfly, a bit...bored. And maybe...uncomfortable? "Why not go back and wait for L. to arrive? I'm sure he'd appreciate you being there."

With that, I disrobed and went to bed. Then the hubby did the same.

And my college student returned to college.

Check, check and check.

2010-08-26T22:25:00.003-04:00

List of A's move-in to-do's this weekend:

A's tuition deposit paid to university: check.
A's immunization forms sent to and approved by university: check.
A opting out of school insurance because they already accept ours: Not yet checked. We have until Sept. 15.
A's dorm linens ordered and en route to dorm: check.
A's surprise welcome kit paid for: check.
A's clothes cleaned and readied: almost check (one last batch of clothes to go).
A's storage from B-school heading to new dorm: check.
Has A RSVPd to all welcome events at school?: Yes, check.
A's shopping at IKEA for dorm room done today: check.
A's new laptop: check (he's taking the one I just bought for myself, which is fine).
A's posters for dorm all purchased: Not yet checked.

List of Thumbelina's arrival-to-the-world to-do's for around the same time that A moves out:

Baby furniture: check.
Lambskin: check.
Midwife: check.
OB/Gyn on standby: check.
Doula: check.
Birth kit: check.
Vitamin K drops: check.
Towels, bucket, plastic liner thingy, and more towels: check.
Olive oil: check.
Balsamic vinegar: just kidding, but yes, check.
Zip code that will get Thumby in French school by Kindergarten: Not yet.

That is all.

Almost Home Free...

2010-08-13T07:29:00.002-04:00

Alex starts university in 2 1/2 weeks.

I will give birth to our daughter in about 3 1/2 weeks.

I could have been enjoying empty nest syndrome. But...no.

Let the games begin. All over again.

They're all in (well, almost)

2010-04-09T01:41:00.003-04:00

And here they are:

1. Art School on the West Coast.
2. Big/Our Private University in NY.
3. Nonesuch Yowza University in NYC.
4. Jesuit University on the West Coast.
5. Private Big Name Liberal Arts College on the West Coast.
6. Big Name Arts School in the South.
7. Artsy-Fartsy Yoko Ono Liberal Arts College in NY.
8. Awesome Public University in Florida.

Waitlisted:

Liberal Arts College in the Midwest (please please please let him in)

Rejections:

Tulane (seriously?)
University of Texas (seriously? Just because the transcript arrived 7 days late? Ouch.)
USC (You guys didn't care about Steven Spielberg the three times that he applied, and we don't care about you guys, either).

So that' it. Blood Sweat and Tears Application Time has now transitioned to Blood Sweat and Tears Financial Aid Lock-Down.

And in the thick of my Financial Aid Lock-Down bleeding and seating and... erm...crying, A has just informed me that he would like to take a gap-year off.

Yes, folks. A Gap. Year. Off.

Transitioning to Blood Sweat and Tears Gap Year Plan.

More college acceptance updates...

2010-03-27T13:19:00.002-04:00

Another update. So far we have --

1. Art School on the West Coast
2. Our (Big) University, private university in NY
3. Awesome public university in Florida
4. Nonesuch Yowza University, a private university in New York City
5. Jesuit University on the West Coast with the oh-so-spectacular views (and yes, there are Buddhists, Muslims and Jewish students there :)

Waitlisted:

Progressive Liberal College in the Midwest

Rejected:

U Texas (seriously?)
Tulane (seriously?)

Acceptances - Updated

2010-03-25T04:07:00.000-04:00

Another update. So far we have --

1. Art School on the West Coast
2. Our University, private university on the East Coast (OK, it's in NY)
3. Awesome public university in Florida
4. Nonesuch Yowza University, a private university in New York City.

One rejection from U Texas, because the B-school transcript and SAT scores arrived one week after the application deadline (even though A applied by the official deadline, they refused to accept supporting documents after deadline, even on appeal. Yes, they're like that).

Our University (on the East Coast, see below) e-mailed A with an acceptance. Phew! That's one official university acceptance from a school that A is really really interested in.

Plus the Art School on the West Coast, which has offered a substantial scholarship.

Another university on the West Coast also recently wrote that after viewing A's portfolio, they have submitted a strong recommendation for acceptance to their school.

bits and bits

2010-03-01T22:36:00.005-05:00

Nappo peed on the sofa today. We have no idea why he decided to do that. He was pacing, as he usually does when he needs to go out for a Whizbang (as we call it), but not for very long, then got right up on the sofa next to me while I was reading my dreadful but oh-so-entertaining Philippa Gregory book, and Boom. Niagara Falls.

I sponged down the sofa with soap but I need that special doggy pee remover.

In other news...A has received an acceptance from an art college on the West Coast. They also are offering a nice scholarship that amounts to half of the tuition. So, that's the first acceptance. Relief. If he gets rejected everywhere else, A, at least, has somewhere to go.

After years of figuring out A's strengths (is it biology? rowing? fencing? writing? what?), we approached the college application process with the angle that his photography talent was "the talent." I never pressured A to spread himself thin. Not join every single club at school and become president of each one. Not stay on the crew team if his heart wasn't in it (he dropped out). No. Although I know parents to push their kids to try to be Great in Everything, I think that approach is stupid. Focus on what you like/love/are incredibly good at. Use that as your showpiece. If it's one thing, let it be one thing. Just make sure that one thing is all over your frikkin' resume through the entirety of your high school career, if not before. Then make room for a couple of minor things so you look more human than humanoid. For A, it's DJing at the school radio station and playing Blues guitar. [Note: Even though I told him he might like joining Model UN, he vetoed my suggestion. He chose DJing at the radio station. As for his guitar, his dorm-mates swear to me that they believe they are living with the child of Son House and Jimi Hendrix.]

Every single university and college received a copy of A's photography portfolio. Some colleges have a portfolio/audition process, like two on the East Coast and one on the West to which A has applied. Some schools weigh the application 50/50, i.e., half weighted on portfolio, half weighted on grades/academics/scores. If your child has a talent, and still wants to go to university and not art school, because maybe he'll get sick of the "talent" and will want to study biology after all, this may be one advantageous route to take. But of course, with only one acceptance, we do not yet know how advantageous it is.

This week, A received a handwritten note from a university on the East Coast:

"Hi A,

I recently had the pleasure of reviewing your final portfolio for Our University. I was impressed by the maturity of your documentary style photography, and your successful conveyance of emotion. Composition and perspective are big strengths of yours and I was pleased to see so much experimentation within the series. Our University's Art Photography program could be a great fit, so I hope you are seriously keeping OU in mind! Please let me know if you have any questions. Best, Admissions Person."

A does not have an acceptance letter (yet) from "OU." But the note was indicative that they looked at A's portfolio. They get it. So I feel good that we chose to take this route.

In other other news, I may have a little announcement next week.

Now, back to figuring out how to completely wash doggy pee off of a sofa.

Winnings

2010-02-02T01:20:00.002-05:00

A won a photography magazine's student contest and will be published in the spring. Yes, it's the type of magazine that you could buy at your local Barnes and Noble.

A German family won asylum in the U.S. for alleged "persecution" for homeschooling in Germany.

A little slideshow that A made...

2010-01-28T01:12:00.002-05:00

A talk, from TED

2009-11-14T14:48:00.000-05:00

NaNoWriMo

2009-11-12T20:47:00.000-05:00

Who's doing it?

...and then, a little gift arrives....

2009-11-10T08:53:00.002-05:00

I've been laid off! Exactly what I wanted. Maybe I helped it a long a little bit, I was so miserable at my former job (as of yesterday!).

World, here I come.

Another update...

2009-11-07T12:39:00.013-05:00

I've been feeling a little sad, so I thought an easy remedy (or not, who knows) would be to enter a post here.

I am still engaged, Canada Man has moved in, we are doing the paperwork then ceremony very soon. I am very happy about that. And I know, I know, I said it would be in the summer, but the recession happened, and well, just get over it. We're adults with lots of time.

Alex is still at B-school. It's been a rough three years. Would I do it all over again? I do not know.

The first year, A was bullied by his roommate. The bullying consisted of A being locked out of his room during study hours, A being told he "doesn't belong here" (at the B school, apparently, because he was not as financially well-off as the roommate), and finally the roommate ramming an oar into my son's back. That was the last straw. I photographed it and showed it to the Head Dean. My son was promptly moved away from the roommate and into his own dorm room. All the while, the school administration emphasized how "delicate" the matter was, and how they needed to communicate the matter to the roommate's parents who pay full tuition, and who generously endow the school. "Ms. Maitresse, it is a very delicate matter, and I hope you will allow us to handle the matter at our pace." Apparently, physical violence does not mitigate the "delicateness" of dealing with Wealthies. It took seven months of complaints for the school to allow my son to move away from the bully.

The second major problem was a French teacher assessing A's French abilities as being "equivalent to a First Year student." When I requested that A re-take the French placement test, and explained that he was likely tired when he took the placement test. He had taken four or five that day. B-School declined his re-taking the test. I invited the B-School French teacher (who is American) to discuss A's placement with A's previous French teacher (who is French). The B-School teacher declined. A studied Mandarin (Chinese) that year.

The following year, A applied again for French studies, and was placed in the 5th-year French studies level. Nothing had changed during the Mandarin studies year. He simply re-applied, was assigned a different language evaluator, and was placed in the French course of his choosing. This year, A is studying AP French.

Junior and Senior (this) year at B-School. Oh, where do I begin. When the Head College Counselor informed us that "homeschooling studies don't count" in the eyes of American universities? (of course, I sent the CC office the college survey info that you can find on the right here on my blog). Or when the college counselor informed us that A had to take the SAT last January, when A was a Junior and when A wasn't yet ready to take it, "because all the other students have, and [my] son will be left behind"? (I informed the college counselor that I never took the SATs myself and was admitted to the University of Miami, and that I thought A should take the SATs when he's ready. There was a lot of back-and-forth on this). Or when the college counselor completely ignored A's interests (Photography, International Studies and Sciences) and suggested that he "should attend that college on Staten Island" because compared to the other students at the B-School, his scores don't stand a chance for placement at USC, NYU or any other competitive undergraduate college. Gotta love when the college counselor really doesn't believe in your kid. (On this note, we have yet to see where A will wind up.)

American boarding schools, I have found, prefer that parents stay very very far away from their students' affairs at their institutions. Unless you have lots of cash.

My boss at the Network has also been incredibly difficult.

I long for the days when I could blog all day and sit with A and help him with his studies and do our little Bohemian activities like knitting in the East Village together. And worry less about things.

On a positive note, A spent the past summer in using his B-School science scholarship funds in northern Ethiopia, photo-documenting and videotaping physicians and patients at a cluster of malaria clinics. His photographs gained him admission as an intern to the International Center of Photography in New York this year. He's enormously pleased with this bit of personal achievement, and I am very happy for him.

Oh, A also won a playwrighting award. Stephen Sondheim's signature appears right on the award certificate. A got some cash out of it, too. Woot!

Anyway, how are all of you?

Trick or Treat

2008-10-31T16:14:00.006-04:00

You asked for news. Here is some.

I've been so slow on the new blog, and for that I apologize.

The beau and I have been commuting between Toronto and New York...ad nauseum. We are ready to hunker down and do The Deed. After asking me about 500 times, I think he is ready. So the engagement will end and become a marriage somewhere in British Columbia in summer 2009. (It's true, HMS Indefatigable. We're doing the shindig near you.)

A is doing great at BTBSA. He is also no longer taking Chinese as he was finally recognized for his French skills and placed in an AP-level French course (Whew - darn newb teachers).

I am glad we homeschooled. I am so glad. While the quality of teaching he gets at BTBSA is probably superior to what he received as a homeschooler, everyone at BTBSA comments on A's maturity. He can rely on himself. He's autonomous. Those skills, he acquired from homeschooling and not being coddled while being homeschooled. I accepted that he had wings, and I let him fly.

I have been offered a director's office at The TV Network, director salary to come at a later date. Right now, The TV Network is looking to cut expenses and chop heads. I am grateful to have new office digs at all.

I am, however, open to the idea of living in the North Country. So we shall see.

NaNoWriMo...aaaah yes. The first Write-In in Manhattan is at Cosi. I am planning on being there, but I am going to break the rules and attempt to finish a story I already started. The way I see it, the whole point is to get the word count. To turn off the editorial function in your brain and Just Do It. To have follow-through. So that is what I am going to do.

Happy Halloween!

on hiatus!

2008-06-03T17:01:00.005-04:00

OK - here's the update:

We don't know what A is doing this summer.

I don't know if I'm going to stick with my job, but apparently, the CEO likes me. That is good news. LaMai is not getting thrown out on the street yet.

There is a new blog, I just need to populate it with more stuff.

A comes home on Saturday.

Love the bloggy readers. See you later.

future plans

2008-05-02T10:30:00.018-04:00

So A got very serious and sort of excited that way that he gets when he is about to pounce some news on me.

"I think I know what I want to do as a career."
Oh yeah? Tell me!
"I want to be a war photographer."
Oh. Oh wow.

Of course, I remembered that A admires Robert Capa's work, as we had been to the Robert Capa exhibit at the International Center of Photography. So this was on me, really.

In reality, I wanted to tell A, UH-UH OH NO YOU AIN'T I AM NOT GOING TO SPEND THE REST OF MY YEARS LOSING SLEEP OVER YOUR NEW CAREER, MKAY?

No. I didn't say that.

I talked to my colleague who works down the hall from me who is responsible for this photo.

"No way. He shouldn't do it. It's not what it used to be."

Okay, coming from the guy who took that photo, I took his feedback to heart. But then, I wondered, was my colleague talking about war, or war photojournalism?

I am hoping A will figure out he is a great guitar player and consider being a musician for his career.

A also interviewed for a China trip (with financial aid) -- I am hoping he gets some sort of acceptance. If he doesn't get it, he'll likely attend the summer CUNY math and science program which is free, or take another photography course and do math and science home-study.

In other news, A won the lottery for a single room at school for next year. No evil roommate surprises, thank you very much.

His play is being showcased next weekend. Can you say Max Fischer?

Doors that don't revolve

2008-04-27T12:43:00.003-04:00

I get regular job opening updates via Mediabistro's Revolving Door newsletter. But the MB newsletter of late, instead of being that fabulous "wow, there's an opportunity" lightbulb-prompter, is making me scared.

Nina Garcia at Elle was fired. For those of you who watch "Project Runway," this news is HUGE.

The Wall Street Journal chief, erm, resigned [COUGH Rupert COUGH Murdoch COUGH]. Or something.

The New York Times, in its 156-year history, for the first time will soon be laying off around 30 editorial emloyees.

Besides the MB news, the network where I work has laid off a bunch of employees.

My mother emailed me last night to tell me her job's office was closing indefinitely, next month.

A few months ago a private car driver told me, while driving me home, that a bunch of Citigroup execs thought she didn't overhear them clearly state that massive layoffs at that corporation would begin in March. This proved to be true.

These are unsettling times.

conversations with Claw

2008-04-21T22:09:00.005-04:00

Claw: A performed on his own?
Me: Yes.
Claw: Wot, on the guitaaaah?
Me: Yes.
Claw: At the coffeehouse thing theah?
Me: Yeah, at the coffeehouse.
Claw: Wot, in front of an audience? Just him? On the acoustic?
Me: Yes, yes, him and the acoustic. And he played slide guitar.
Claw: Bloody 'ell. That's nervewracking. Congratulate him for me.

Claw used to be in a band, on a label, and used to jet set around the world in business class on tour. I am happy she can appreciate A's performance-in-front-of-an-audience milestone!

Chag Sameach

2008-04-20T12:20:00.009-04:00

*

Of course, I'd throw the curveball of Sister Rosetta Tharpe to y'all right before Passover. Who was Sister Rosetta? She inspired The Beatles ("Get Back" lyrics), Bob Dylan, and countless other Big Name (guy) musicians, but she never became a big name herself. A clip of that historic performance was also in the film "Amelie."

A received a blow in Crew this week -- based on his erg results, he was placed in fifth boat, which outed him from this week's race. It was BTBSA's biggest competitor. He was totally bummed. We had decided he wouldn't come home for Passover because this race was so important; Friday, his coach had the rowers erg for places in the race. A was one-tenth of a second behind the last available seat in Fourth Boat. I wanted to punch the coach, but what can you do?

That's right. You go to the annual coffeehouse.

Coffeehouse is an event where students at BTBSA perform musically, read poetry, etc., just like in the Beat coffeehouses in New York and elsewhere. A was nervous before his performance time and opted out a the last minute. I told him to go, anyway. Then I got the call. "Mom, if I don't perform here, I'll regret it all year long." So he ran back to his room, grabbed his acoustic guitar, ran back to coffeehouse, and performed "Death Letter Blues." When A introduced the song, one student actually shouted out, "A song by Son House!" How do these kids KNOW THAT? Dude, I only knew about the stuff that was on the Billboard charts in my day.

I am so proud of A.

And it happened on Passover, no less!

*Image of the old Gaslight Cafe in the West Village. Click on the image of the Gaslight for Son House performance.

Bring it, sister!

2008-04-16T17:03:00.001-04:00

From LaMai to you.

Fierce!

2008-04-11T20:33:00.009-04:00

The Spring Playwriting Festival was featured in this week's edition of the school paper. And A is mentioned in it! Woo-hoo! I'm so proud of him. A's Cirque du Soleil photo is in the same issue. Doubly fierce!

A got an invitation to join one of those worthless high school honors organizations (the one headed by that Nobel guy--believe me, it's only puffery with a price tag). I promptly sent in the application for the worthless membership. If all the other kids at his school are going to do it, I figured A should, too.

I can just see the admissions officer at XYZ University:

[Scene inside at a building made of brick, covered in ivy, white-like-ivory belltower in the not-too-distant distance; An Admissions Officer (AO) sits at an oval mahogany desk with four other AOs]

AO: Hmmm...all 849 students from BTBSA have the Puffery Honors. Except this guy. Maitresse's Alexander.
AO the second: How veddy strange!
AO the third: How veddy absurd!
AO the fourth: Horror!
AO the fifth: Erm...I kind of like that he didn't buy that pufffery thingy with a price tag. And Maitresse is a nice name. Who is she?
AO: What say you all?
AOs one through four [in unison]: Automatic reject!!!!

See how it works?

Also, A got an invitation to some one-week leadership conference in the summer. I found out they offer scholarships. So I've applied for one for A.

I broke the news to my long-lost best friend in London (who I will call Claw) that we are not going to Henley. She thought that was a very "hooray Henry" idea, anyway. Claw's idea was to take us to rock concerts and go shopping on Denmark (read: guitars) and Carnaby (read: clothes) Streets, and have us check out Abbey Road Studio where the Beatles recorded. So I'm trying to entice Claw to come to New York again. You need a new camera? Erm...the British pound is really strong against the dollar. Why not buy it here? Like, in August?

Claw has two original Gered Mankowitz photographs. You know the famous Jimi Hendrix ones in black and white? Those. Mankowitz hand-printed them especially just for Claw and her mum.

A has a race tomorrow. The boys on his team are really into supplementing with whey protein and creatine. I don't think it's a bad thing, as long as they do it in moderation. It's certainly better than 1) taking steroids, 2) going out to the woods and dipping (the boarding school code word for chewing tobacco) or 3) smoking mary and jane. You want creatine pills? Sure. The GNC is around the corner, and I'll pick up a bottle for you. No problem.

I have to work on a food idea for Sunday brunch. It's a pot luck. Fortunately, I went to Bar Americain this week (Bobby Flay's joint) and got a little inspiration! Savory corn bread with shallots, anyone?

acceptance

2008-04-10T22:50:00.004-04:00

A made it to the varsity level on the Crew team. At first, he was placed in third boat; now he is in fourth boat. It's still varsity. I am happy for him. The team has decided to not go to the Henley Royal this year, though. I am not sad about this news: It's an expensive trip, and I learned that A would likely not qualify to make it into the 8-seater that would be entered in the Princess Elizabeth Challenge Cup. So, he's on varsity, the current senior boys will graduate and A will probably move a boat or two up next year.

Progress.

He reported to me that he got a 90 on his latest Chemistry test.

His first photo is being published in the school paper this week. It is a photo he took during Cirque du Soleil's "Kooza" show.

The band that performed as the Irish band in "Titanic" (the movie) will be performing on his campus; he has been appointed as gig photographer.

I bought tickets to the Black Keys for A and me. A doesn't know that he will be going -- and it's a band that he likes; I only know about them because A got really into their music. I can't wait to spring this on him! I plan to rent a car to get to the theater. [note to newbies here: we live in NYC - cars are optional].

I am really, *really* looking forward to summer. Because A will come home from school and he will be mine...ALL MINE! MWAH HAH HAH!!!

Okay, maybe I've turned a little psycho since he went to boarding school this year. : / I just miss him.

I've been invited to a brunch in Harlem with friends this weekend.

I may go to the horse farm on Saturday to finish some work I am doing there. Oh, cool/weird/Tim Burtonesque thing: There is a horse with a missing eye at the farm. The eye is totally gone (previous owners were just a little neglectful) -- just the socket is there now, no eyeball, an empty socket over which his fur has grown in. But the eye socket area is itchy to the horse, and he "asks" whatever human happens to be around to give him a good scratching there. Then there are Willie and Nelson, the two mustangs. And Rain Man (who answers with a hearty "NEEEEIGH!!!" if you call out "Rain Man").

The horse farm cracks me up.

rejection

2008-04-04T21:17:00.002-04:00

A applied to, auditioned for, and was rejected from his school's arts concentration program today. He wanted to specialize in photography if accepted.

He knew the rejection was coming. "The audition didn't go so well," he said to me that day.

Today, I called up a photographer friend. "When did you start photography?" I asked. "Not until college," he said. "I went on a trip to Israel in the summer, bought a camera in the duty-free shop, and began taking pictures right there in the airport and on the plane. I haven't stopped since that day."

College, huh?

Annie Leibovitz didn't start photography until around her college years, according to Wikipedia.

No idea when Bob Gruen started. But his famous John Lennon-in-New York City T-shirt photo didn't happen until well after he left high school.

Ansel Adams learned photography as a teenager on a trip to Yosemite National Park. His father gave him a Kodak Brownie camera for the trip and Ansel started taking photos. No special arts program there.

"You know what, A?" I said to him on the phone. "The greatest photographers didn't do the arts concentration program in your school. Some didn't even begin until college. You'll be okay. You're in good company."

I swear I could see him smile through the phone.

progress

2008-04-02T23:56:00.003-04:00

So this past weekend I visited A at school. I brought him a new camera case from B&H photo for his digital camera, some printing paper for his film camera, some film, lens cleaner, and negative archival sheets. Plus, the latest copy of MOJO magazine. With CD. And the protein powder he asked me to bring to help him bulk up for Crew.

I also helped A move his stuff from his old dorm to his new one. And found out that all of A's stuff was put it in a pile that did not exist the last time he moved stuff out.

Hmmm....how did that happen?

It was then that I decided to exchange words with the roommate. He claimed his parents moved my son's items. "Oh, really?" I said. These are the same (divorced) parents who will not be publicly seen within 10 feet of each other. Suddenly, they join forces to move my son's stuff into a pile.

"Well, if it really was your parents, they were wrong to do that. It was wrong to touch A's belongings without asking. Do you understand?" I then realized that child never had a day of discipline in his life. He did not care what I said to him, he just raised his eyebrows as if to say, "So what?"

I ignored this and tortured the ex-roommate by having a normal, respectful conversation with my son.

While A moved his things out, I loaded up a load of laundry in the laundry room. This took me five hours to do due to the school having eight washing machines for 800 students. I now understood A's complaints over this. We should sign up for the laundry service next year!

I folded, stored, and put his laundry in his closer and generally tidied up his room. I enjoyed doing this for him.

I learned that A is obsessed with The Black Keys (a new blues rock band). I've looked at their tour schedule and found out that their Boston show lands on a Saturday. Boston is only a couple of hours away. Hmmm...

Back at home, I learned that a certain program that goes to China in the summer is actively trying to recruit A. They've emailed me about seven times this week, and called me. They have financial aid for their ridiculously expensive program. So I'll submit the application.

No idea if A will do Henley or do enrichment math or science classes during the summer.

I am getting tired just thinking about summer.

I miss A.

Real Housewife of New York

2008-03-25T23:41:00.006-04:00

Anyone watch the Real Housewives of New York City on Bravo? It's mind numbing but good. I know, I know, I am not supposed to be watching T.V. (because I said I don't watch T.V.). I only watch three shows: Top Chef, Real Housewives of New York City, and Project Runway. And guess what? They're all on Bravo.

So, anyway, I think I am sometimes like Alex, the pretentious mom who lives in Cobble Hill.

She and her husband named their son François, for godsakes. And their other kid? Johann.

Like that Bach dude.

Of course, Alex is from Kansas. The hubby is Australian.

On tonight's show, Alex said something to one of the other housewives over martinis that sounded like something I might say and not realize I sounded soo puffery-like: "Well, we do this thing where we taught our son to sing 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' in Latin. And oh yeah, we taught him it in French, too."

Alex also insists that the au pair is teaching the kids French.

The funny thing is that as much as Alex's au pair tries to teach the kids French, the au pair's job is to *take care* of the kids, and maybe have a little life herself, too, while in New York. Alex's kids don't want to speak French. Also: Alex and the hubby are not reinforcing the French so much on their kids in their critical tender young age-- so the struggle that the au pair has is pretty transparent.

Then, over martinis, Alex says she *speaks Italian* to the Countess LuAnn who appears on the show. I have met people who say they speak a language...but have very minimal knowledge in a language (but perhaps are so excited, they tell everyone they know that they speak it, anyway).

Anyway, the Countess actually spoke Italian to Alex. So Alex's attempt at Italian sort of... fell short. But, I give Alex props: she laughed off her shortcomings.

Scene cuts to Alex and her husband who assert meeting people like LuAnn will help them move into "higher and higher circles" in New York society.

Sigh.

These things are good to watch. They are a reality check for me. And they make me wonder if I am trying too hard with Alex's schedule next year. He is taking lessons in two instruments. He rows. He is learning Mandarin ... takes French on Saturdays. Is applying to the school Arts Concentration Program and may drop his science scholarship completely.

He cannot be everything. I am wondering if I set him up for frustration?

My kid needs a major break from this nonsense. It's competition for competition's sake.

Sometimes I wish he were just home...like the "old days" when we homeschooled. When he actually had time to read literature for himself because he wanted to.

I plan to visit A this weekend...and just be with him. Just enjoy what he has to tell me about his life.

Of course, I will bring my voodoo dolly of the ex-roommate and dip it in chicken blood before I go visit A.

Just kidding, people.

puffery

2008-03-24T15:27:00.003-04:00

I am bored at work.

So now that I will not be pulling A out of BTBSA (I actually registered with the NYC DoE to keep his spot at High School/Early College School), we are planning for the future.

In the future, there is college.

I am looking at his course options for next year. Next year is the key year. The best-face-forward year. The Registrar suggested that she make a few possible schedules for A to consider.

A has a scholarship from BTBSA for summer science research. A is now leaning toward Humanities studies, and has recently said that he is interested in screenplay writing. I cannot say that this is bad news; the summer science research scholarship bears the last name of his former (bully) roommate [I'll wait for you bloggy readers to have that lightbulb moment on this].

So we have: Decent grades, decent PSAT (with a re-take coming next Junior year), he's on the Crew team, he is pretty good at Photography, got picked (as one out of four playwrights) for the school's Spring Playwriting Festival, and is applying for the Arts Concentration Program at school. Still plays his guitar, and he might be forming a band at school. Started a "Middle East Peace Club" on his own with another student. This summer, he will be taking enrichment classes in math and science.

Yesterday, A tells me he might be interested in writing a screenplay.

I guess it's appropriate that his college tour this fall is a California college tour.

smooth sailing

2008-03-20T23:23:00.007-04:00

The sordid details: The roommate locked A out of his dorm when he needed to study. The roommate blasted music when A needed to study. The roommate gave A grief about conversations we would have (the roommate made it a point to listen in on our calls). The roommate asked A for money too many times (sometimes after talking about his father's hedge fund).

A quietly told me he felt things were unbearable.

The roommate told A he didn't think A should be at BTBSA.

A quietly told me he was going to sleep with severe back pain. His body was now reacting to the stress of the roommate.

Over the course of five months, I talked to A's house dean about the roommate. The house dean did not satisfactorily act.

I made a stink.

LaMai making a stink is not a pleasant affair. Both faculty and staff were upset. I did not care.

Then A went to Miami for pre-season Crew training. The roommate, who is also on the team, also went to Miami for pre-season Crew training.

And in Miami, the roommate drove an oar into A's back and caused a welt.

I took a photo of the welt.

A asked me not to show it to anyone.

Maybe I broke a promise about not showing the photo of the welt to anyone.

A now has a new single private room at school.

We're fine

2008-03-08T22:27:00.005-05:00

The Good Stuff:

A is in Florida where he just spent a week at his grandmother and great-grandmother's home (those gals live together), and now is training for pre-season Crew with the BTBSA team, also now in Florida.

I have picked up another cause -- and may be picking up yet another. The first involves me and an equine organization, for which I will be talking to Barbaro's owners next week (yes *that* Barbaro -- I am truly excited) to do some major PR work for the org. Willie Nelson has contributed his time and song to the org (Yes, there *had* to be a music connection. Y'all know me, right?).

The second cause involves helping a much-loved American musician be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. I feel very strongly about this latter cause. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

The Bad Stuff:

Several weeks ago I fell ill -- for the most part, I am better. My co-worker at the Tiffawneee Network did the superhuman task of making sure I got to the hospital and hooked up to an IV bag. I am forever grateful to her for that. So if you are reading this, Miss CEO-speechwriting CoWorker, and are wondering why I didn't mention anything over margaritas and burritos, please know it was because I was still not myself. Big Ups to you. I raise the glass.

And now A is experiencing issues at BTBSA. The bully roommate situation did not improve and BTBSA has been reluctant to act. So I threatened to pull A out of school until it's resolved. "But you can't do that," said a Dean to me, "Your son *must* attend classes." "I've already explained that by spring term, this had to be resolved," I replied, "And I am his mother. It is my responsibility to make sure he is not harassed."

So that is that.

But -- the Form Dean told me on the phone that *I* had been bullying *them.* I nearly dropped the phone when he said that. I rarely call the school -- but I did up my demands (which were originally requests) that the roommate problem be resolved. I am still in shock that they can equate student bullying to my asking them to respond.

Anyway, I have much to blog about...but need to muster some courage and time to write it. I will spill every sordid detail.

In the meantime, I need to spill some sordid details on my manuscript pages.

I will return soon.

Daily Green tip (from my son's school Web site)

2008-02-13T15:06:00.000-05:00

Eat less meat

Methane is the second most significant greenhouse gas and cows are one of the greatest methane emitters. Their grassy diet and multiple stomachs cause them to produce methane, which they exhale with every breath.

a last note from Mr. College Tour Man

2008-02-12T14:55:00.000-05:00

"Dear LaMai,

Thanks for your advisement regarding the confusing nature of the language on our posting for the impending college tours. We have changed the language on the website significantly and hope that it will make the registration process of other families seeking to register their children for travel a simpler process. I apologize for any inconvenience.

Best regards,

Mr. College Tour Man"

The College Tours

2008-02-12T10:16:00.000-05:00

Dear Parent,

The Placement Agency is pleased to present its College Tour 2008 for the first time as a national initiative. There are three trips this year: a Northern tour of the New England colleges, a Southern tour of the Mid-Atlantic and Southern schools and a California tour.

The total cost of the trip is $700. The fees cover the cost of chartered bus transporation, two meals a day, hotel accommodations, an amusement park trip at the end of the week, tour materials and a few surprises along the way. Your $200 deposit is due immediately, another $200 is due in one month, and the final $300 is due May 15.

We would love for your child to join us. Please submit the registration form as quickly as possible so that your family doesn't miss out! If you have any questions, please contact me, Mr. College Tour Man, at XXX-XXX-XXXX."

"Dear Mr. College Tour Man,

There were no dates given for your California, Northern or Southern tours. In fact, there were no college destinations provided, either. I'd be happy to provide a check if I know we can actually coordinate a trip within my child's schedule, and if we know which colleges are in store.

Thank you.

Best,

LaMai"

"Dear LaMai,

That information is conveniently located on our Web site.

Sincerely,

Mr. College Tour Man."

"Dear Mr. College Tour Man,

Thank you for directing me to the Web site. Unfortunately, I am now more confused. The application states there is a 'Northern Tour,' a 'Southern Tour' and a 'California Tour.' The Web site states that the 'Northern College Tour' only includes Southern colleges. The 'Mid-Atlantic/Midwest College Tour' gives New York and New England college destinations. The 'California College Tour' does show California colleges on its itinerary, so that seems correct [should I give you props for that?].

I would appreciate clarification of the college tour destinations.

Best.

LaMai"

"Dear LaMai,

The Northern College Tour is for students in the Mid-Atlantic. The Mid-Atlantic College Tour is for students in the Northern regions. I hope this clarifies what we mean by Northern College Tour and Mid-Atlantic College Tour.

Mr. College Tour Man"

I think I could use a martini now.

if you don't already know her...

2008-02-11T22:16:00.000-05:00

Here is a performance worth watching.

As one commentator wrote: "Without WORDS."

She writes her own music. She is our modern-day Janis Joplin.

Self professed... profound
Till the chips were down
...though you're a gambling man
Love is a losing hand

Though I'm rather blind
Love is a fate resigned
Memories mar my mind
Love is a fate resigned

Over futile odds
And laughed at by the gods
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game

Thank you!

2008-02-11T14:33:00.000-05:00

For the birthday wishes.

I think the highlight of my Saturday was finding out that my 96-year-old grandmother trekked on foot to make a $25 deposit into my bank account, at the Miami branch. I couldn't believe it. I asked her how I should spend it. "How about a beer?" she said. I laughed and took her up on it.

I wound up going out to dinner at a Spanish restaurant downtown with my friend the tightlacer (because on this night, she revealed to me that she once broke a rib under the stresses of a 19th-century corset...I had no idea), my homegirl from Maine, and their boyfriends, and the random guy they threw in to even out the numbers. We drank Sangria, no beer. I did report our choice of mixology later to my grandmother and she approved.

The candle in the flán, however, she thought was ridiculous. :)

Karl will be dodging politic--errrmmm---fashion questions at A's school today.

unbound

2008-02-08T22:55:00.000-05:00

"I never heard my guitar ring so loud and so long and so clear as it did there in them high-polished marble halls. Every note was ten times as loud...People had walked hushed up and too nice and quiet through these tiled floors too long. I decided that for this minute, for this one snap of their lives, they'd see a human walking through that place, not singing because he was hired and told what to sing, but just walking through there thinking about the world and singing about it."

--- Woody Guthrie, exiting Rockefeller Plaza after declining a job offer, in Bound for Glory

child of trauma in the workplace

2008-02-07T20:23:00.001-05:00

I wanted to post something positive and happy and educational today, particularly since it's my birthday (!) in two days, but this post needed to have it's marquee time so that I can be done with it and let the Greek Furies have it.

I am a child of trauma. You can call it "child of divorce," "child of verbal abuse," "child of physical abuse," "child of racism and No, You Cannot Live Here, We Don't Take Your Momma's Kind Said the Leasing Landlord," "child of a bad 'hood," "child of marital abuse," etc., fill in the blanks. You get the idea. I am a survivor. Fight or flight, I'll do both, but usually flight is my preferred choice to save my kid and my wits. I got out of the situation I was born and married into -- alive, educated, and for the most part, content.

How does being a child of trauma translate in the workplace? Well, let's see.

I've been "let go" more than once (did I mention that I live in a hard town?) and this has perhaps conditioned me to check out my bosses' reactions a little more acutely than most employees. I will do a mental check: Did she smile? Did he like my work? What is being said about me? I do not ask myself this every day or every week, but if I sense something is severely "off."

And I do it not for vanity. But to survive.

My boss mentioned something in passing about an enormous amount of people being fired at a certain division at our company. I, in turn, mentioned something in passing later in the day to my co-worker while we were getting coffee yesterday, something that went like, "Well, I just hope I don't get fired," and she rolled her eyes. Just like that. "You've got to stop being so paranoid," she said. I realized that this was a conversation that I brought up more than once and genuinely annoyed her.

The thing is, I'm not paranoid. Jobs are transient. We're in a recession. My kid, however, isn't a transient and I intend to keep him that way. I need to provide. If the poop is going to go down, I'll pack my bags and look for something else to feed and clothe my child (and feed my dog). But timing is everything...I like to hit the ground running, and I am a bit of a super-preparer (can you tell by reading this blog?).

Today, a person in our legal department (who I will call Morisa Fockauer, or MOFO for short,) called me.

[Ring]
Me: This is LaMai
MOFO: Yeah, I'm really disappointed with you. I'm going to have to give your name to my boss and everyone, including the CEO.
Me: I beg your pardon, MOFO? What is going on?
MOFO: You f&*&d up the filing of our 10-K.
ME: [Wondering why the Traveling Ingratiator lassoed me into this project in the first place -- oh yeah, so he could go to a vacation spot in South America for a week] Why do you say that?
MOFO: You were supposed to edit the entire copy of the mobile division's entry.
Me: Erm...no, I have in my notes here you wanted the site metrics for the online radio show. Your quote: "Online radio show's metrics. Provide edit to sentence." I did that and sent it to you.
MOFO: I NEEDED THE ENTIRE SECTION. WHO DO I NEED TO TALK TO GET THIS DONE?
Me: You need to talk to the mobile division's press person, Princess.
MOFO: THANKS FOR TELLING ME NOW. I WILL MAKE SURE EVERYONE KNOWS YOU RUINED OUR FILING. CLICK.

Oh SHE DIDN'T hang up on me? (The conversation made me sufficiently nervous that I began to reach for a stash of yarn and a pair of knitting needles that weren't there.)

And did I mention that my position garners the least respect with the most amount of workload? I am not in a position for people to suck up to me, unless they want a signed t-shirt from that late night T.V. guy.

On closer inspection, coupled with the above daily dysfunctions, I can say with confidence that my job has NO up side. Top this off with the fact that I am a child of trauma. Do the math.

In the end, I sometimes wonder if I should only have friends who are children of trauma, and who are also parents, so I can avoid people suddenly rolling their eyes at me as if I've said something insignificant or flippant or stupid.

For me, stability and family are everything. Right now, I have both, and I intend to keep it that way. MOFO or no MOFO, job or no job.*

*I still have my job. I'll report on this next week. :)

That terrible sinking feeling in my heart

2008-02-04T16:15:00.000-05:00

I dropped A at the train station today after his long weekend at home in NYC. I really do try to be blasé about the whole thing, but I miss him terribly when he goes back to school. :(

Still, my personal growth has been doing better than a box full of VitaGrow. Amazing what sheer boredom can do when your kid is away at school.

This weekend, we saw "Persepolis" -- a brilliant animated film, and I recommend it -- for the teenage/adult set. It has political and mature content. If you are studying Iranian/Middle East history and culture, it may open your eyes a little bit. Most people in our audience stayed until the credits were completely finished.

We also saw D.A. Pennbaker's "Dont [sic] Look Back" at Film Forum (stop! if you're reading this and live in New York and love Bob Dylan, Pennebaker himself will be at Film Forum tonight! Go, puppies, go!).

And then we saw that film by the Coen brothers. Can LaMai tell everyone that LaMai thinks the film requires some replay but is brilliant? Yes, LaMai can say so. Even my best friend in London (see: rediscovered childhood friendships thanks to MySpace) said it was "slow moving but really good." Good film on which to talk philosophy -- the major themes touched on in the film are fate, predestination, chance and free will. And who you believe to be the main characters turn out not ot be so. The dialogue was just brilliant and the suspense/fear factor was more about what you don't see than what you do. I recommend it for adults only and very mature teens.

Last night A worked on his school Wiki entry on the French Revolution. I found a French Revolutionary song for him to upload (which I used to sing with him when he was little). Yes, it's "Ah, ça ira!" I know the lyrics are horrible, especially since they're about hanging aristocrats from lampposts (I must have been singing the Edith Piaf version). But they add a dose of realism to the Wiki entry.

We listened to Dylan songs. I didn't grow up listening to Bob Dylan (he had long since done the motorcycle crash and took a hiatus before reappearing in the mid-late-70s), so he is my "new" favorite musician - up to 1966 and maybe up to the Basement Tapes.

I have also started reading Charles Bukowski. How did I not know Bukowski before?

Anybody reading this blog who is also a writer? Do you have any writer's block exercises you'd like to share?

2008-01-31T14:29:00.001-05:00

[harpsichord plays in the background]

2008-01-30T22:38:00.000-05:00

I have an upstairs neighbor who plays the harpsichord. He has two in his apartment. Each is worth $35,000. That is a lot of money. He is playing on one right now. I am glad he is.

I need to hear the melodic sounds of something ancient (to me). Something less "today." Because today, I had a Day at work.

Alex is coming home this weekend; it's another long weekend. The transportation is all arranged. I'll pick him up after I meet with my career coach after another long day at work.

We plan to see "There Will Be Blood" because Daniel Day-Lewis is in it. [harpsichord plays in the background]

We also plan to see "Persopolis" if we can find a cinema that is still showing it. [harpsichord plays in the background]

And finally, something to totally dull the senses. I choose "Cloverfield." [harpsichord plays in the background, flourishes]

Alex took up piano at school because BTBSA refuses to teach harpsichord to anyone who doesn't have a year of piano. [harpsichord plays in the background]

It's so very logical.

Especially since the harpsichord preceded the piano. [someone suddenly breaks out in a soprano voice. Who is that?]

I guess that's what happens when one makes a point about harpsichords.

Just Say No to Karl

2008-01-28T23:13:00.001-05:00

So, as you all know, my son, A, as of this year, is at boarding school. And guess who was invited to speak at his new school's commencement? That's right. Karl.

It's a controversy that's been picked up in all the media.

You see, Karl is said to have outed a covert fashion designer (who I will call Valerie Plain) because Plain's fashion critic husband wrote an article questioning Karl's...erm...claim that another designer obtained African-made couture zippers that were made of uranium and dangerous to the fashion-wearing public. So Karl-darling outed Valerie Plain which was sort of a fashion security disaster (she is no longer covert, and is working on a fabulous fashion book deal with Anna Wintour).

Of course, nobody can prove that Karl outed Valerie Plain. But it's sort of hard to ignore that all the fabulously baubled and manicured fingers point to Karl.

Then there's the other stuff that Karl has done that LaMai will not discuss here.

So a bunch of sartorially-inclined students at BTBSA decided to put on their fashionista best and challenge Karl to a catwalk at their Commencement. Karl must have gotten hot under his French-made collar, because he has since declined the invitation to speak at Commencement and will instead talk fashion in two weeks with the students.

In any case, if you've figured out what the heck I am talking about here, you can Google it. It's just so exciting.

xoxLaMai

Remember that entry?

2008-01-23T23:07:00.000-05:00

From 11.21.05

These things tend to make me reflect.

Sigh.

Be The Change

2008-01-21T10:32:00.000-05:00

If you click on the photo here, you will be able to view the entire slideshow of never-before published photographs of the civil rights movement. We remind ourselves that this happened because, besides knowing that our great country was known for some not so great things, we do know that we can be the vehicle for change. For ourselves (yes, I am looking at you, homeschooling parent, black and white, who labors every day to give her kids a better education) and for our communities.

Girl's Financials, Interrupted (Fabulous!)

2008-01-19T08:23:00.000-05:00

My financial forms to BTBSA are late. I started the online financial thingy then stopped. I am now eight days late.

I am secretly hoping this means that A will have to pay full tuition, then I will say, Pffft! You're homeschooling from now on! But somehow, I know, the BTBSA endowment monies will cover it all.

Yesterday at work I had a headache with cold, and left early, but I had the presence of mind to head to the yarn shop before going home. I bought six balls of Debbie Bliss's Baby Cashmerino to finish the sweater I am making for A.

I noticed a fabulously-attired woman (read: money) sitting in the shop with her Henri Bendel bag, with a load of fabulous yarn on the table in front of her. "OMG. Where did you get that fabulous yarn?" I asked. "Oh my goodness! Isn't it fabulous?" She said. We agreed the yarn was fabulous. I have an inkling that her friends probably thinks she shops Henri Bendel and Bergdorf's but, her clothes are all made while she sits in the table in that yarn shop. She took me to the Fabulous! Yarn section. I bought one ball of Fabulous! Yarn. It cost me $21. In the yarnosphere, this is not cheap. Consider that I will need about four more balls of Fabulous! to make the Twinkle Best Friend Cardigan (sans those ball thingys that look like a part of the woman's anatomy I shall not name here), the amount of money that Fabulous! will run me will indeed leave a Fabulous hole in my bank account.

Then at home, I shopped at Chic Knits and bought three patterns and more yarn. This time, I did good. Peruvian wool in charcoal (ah, yes, I am sooo adventurous with the palette), cheap at less than $3 a ball. I bought 10.

I discovered Phildar. I logged on to knitty.com. I visited all the knitting blogs on knitty.com. (while I was sick, I did take my over-the-counter meds and drank my Kombucha).

I tried to get back to filling out the financials form for BTBSA, I really did.

But with so much fabulous yarn everywhere, looks like this girl's financials will be temporarily interrupted.

2008-01-15T23:37:00.000-05:00

So I'm walking home from work, and now the grocery store, and two teenage street punks who were walking past me in the opposite direction, threw a bottle at me on the street. The bottle barely missed me.

When I turned around, I saw them running, and they, turning around to see me.

So I changed my direction and followed them...walking like the Terminator, serious with intent, my grocery bags in hand.

I walked.

They ran.

The two street punks ran into a Chinese restaurant across the street. I spotted them hiding on the customer bench, and I walked through the traffic, across the street and straight to the restaurant. They got up, dashed out and turned a corner on the block.

SUCK MY EGGS, they yelled.
"No. Suck mine," I said and reached for
my just-purchased eggs from the grocery store.

They saw the white oval in my fist, and as I aimed for them, they ran away too fast to waste the yolk.

I yelled out a few token things about boys running away from girls with eggs.

"You Are Awesome" Day

2008-01-14T11:00:00.000-05:00

"Dear Students,

You are the most awesome students anywhere. Have the day off today.

Sincerely,

The Headmaster"

Of course, there was a Nor'Easter headed toward school today, but nevermind. My A is sleeping in as I type this.

I wish my boss could send my team an email like that.

Sunday D and other myths

2008-01-12T22:39:00.000-05:00

A: "Hello, Mom?"
Me: "Yes, hon?"
A: "Um...I got Sunday detention."
Me: "How did that happen, A?"
A: "For missing winter running on Monday. I guess my absence meant detention. It's okay, though."
Me: "But *I* told you to miss winter running on Monday."
A: "I know."
Me: "I told you to miss it because the antibiotic that the school doctor gave you was making you nauseous that day. You called me, said you felt like throwing up again, so I told you to contact the coach about it and not go."
A: "I know, mom. It's okay, I'll just do the Sunday D."
Me: "You called the coach and told him why you missed it, right?
A: "Yes, of course, mom."
Me: "And doc knows, right?"
A: "YES MOM. HE KNOWS. COACH KNOWS. EVERYBODY KNOWS."
Me: "Then I don't think that's fair to you. You were just following my instruction. And for heaven's sake, you were sick."

Eleven e-mails later to the Form Dean and school doctor and winter running coach, the school doctor e-mailed me this:

"I think we can get rid of the sunday detention.....

If he hasn't heard from the dean regarding the sunday detention, he has
my permission to miss it....and if for some reason the deans
are adament about it....he can make it up sometime in the future....but
I think I will prevail.

thanks, school doctor"

I told A he owes me. Just kidding.

Back to knitting that WWII patterned sweater.

A Blog With A View

2008-01-10T12:26:00.000-05:00

I admire a lot of edu- and personal blogs out there, and I've admired Poppins' blog for a long, long time. Okay, maybe Poppins intimidates me with her astonishing will and resourcefulness to try new things - constantly, and with ever-increasing momentum, until the new things become new projects, new skills, new ways of life. I think we started knitting around the same time (she beat me by a few months, and it must have been pure zeitgeist that I tried it at all; I had no idea Poppins was doing it as I had dropped off her blog for a bit). She was running around the same time I was doing my morning runs in the park. Then she started the secular homeschooling community site. No surprise that in typical Poppins fashion, I now plunk myself on her blog and see "Triathlete training log" thingy that she has created for her husband in her own watercolors (Flickrized) and in special font, no less (a little 70s nostalgia in the font?), a few more knitted duds with technical level up to THERE, and the kids are now sporting home sewn duds in fabrics too cool to find in a store, and they are climbing entire mountains (or something). Somehow, amidst all the fun, I figure she manages to feed her kids, and not the Dunkin' Donuts variety of food. AND -- and this is the big AND, because it's sort of "the proof is in the pudding" that she enjoys doing what she does -- Poppins looks great. Her whole family looks great. Nay, Poppins family is the hotness.

Like, mercy.

I don't wish to mention the sorts of projects I intend to attack with Poppins-like vigor (let's be honest and call it "Maitresse-like" vigor, because "Poppins-like" is a marathon, and I'm a sprinter...but darnit, my 5 seconds of doing whatever can yield pretty darn good results!). Let's just say the manuscript is on the desk, with edits, and this is looking pretty good to me right now. Plus, the other night while I was sitting in The Bitter End with a friend, I heard there's a big bluegrass contingent in Connecticut. Zeitgeist?

Also reading Poppins blog, it reminds me of how unnecessary living with the kid problems mentioned here should be. If Poppins suddenly was given a 500-American million-dollar check that didn't bounce, I think her crew would be doing the same things they are doing now. Only picking out more stashes of fabric, yarn, and traveling to more places to do their watercolors, and finding more projects to do. In the snow, and out. Still, the kids would know how to clean up after themselves and make their beds.

I could be wrong, but it's on a good hunch that I would be right.

The Republican Debate According to a 9 Year Old

2008-01-07T16:26:00.000-05:00

This is good. Click on daily kos

* * *

The Republican Debate According to this 39-year-old (me, LaMai): click here .

John Taylor Gatto

2008-01-07T11:30:00.000-05:00

Whoever controls the image and information of the past determines what and how future generations will think; whoever controls the information and images of the present determines how those same people will view the past.— George Orwell, 1984 (1949)

Read John Taylor Gatto's The Underground History of American Education (and thank you, Princess Ennui, for featuring the link on your blog).

The Freewheelin' LaMai

2008-01-06T12:53:00.001-05:00

It's 12:53 PM. Do you know where you kid is?

I don't. I've called the dorm, called the cell phone, no clue where my A is.

Last night, he called me at 10 PM to tell me, "Mom, I love you." Then he informed me he was heading off to a friend's dorm to study Mandarin.

There is a possibility that he will be heading to the Royal Henley Regatta this summer. If he does, it simplifies our summer plans...a LOT. We'll stay at my friend's London home the days before, perhaps jump over to Paris for a bit, do Henley, then head home so that A can either 1) hit that science research internship or 2) his beloved Calculus class. Then we'll go sailing.

And somehow, I have to get rid of my current job in order to do the above. That's okay, I think it's already in the works.

Bitter Enabler who Verbally Attacks and Likes to Yell ("BEVALY," formerly known as "Friendly But Disgruntled Executive Assistant Who Could Never Say Anything Really Nice To Me") to Big Gorilla Boss-Slash-Crazy Boss-Slash-Boss of My Boss-Slash-Laziest Boss is making my life and work less than productive, as she's apparently been given the green light to toss verbal grenades my way within earshot of my co-workers:

LAMAI to BEVALY after yet another stupid office incident: "I'm not going to re-hash this."
BEVALY: "YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO ME? You better SAY IT TO MY FACE. STOP YOUR MUMBLING. I'M NOT PLAYIN'. Go ahead. Talk to my (Gorilla) boss. GO RIGHT AHEAD. I DON'T CARE. What do I care that you're a [insert my position here]? WHY SHOULD I CARE?"

I later heard her use the word b*tch when referring to me to another co-worker.

Things like this affect me profoundly.

How will you choose?

2008-01-02T10:17:00.000-05:00

As educators I often wonder how we teach and convey ideas to our kids. However small or mundane, what we convey to our kids, families, and friends can have an impact.

Exhibit A: This morning presented the idea of "weather." It snowed lightly as I headed out to my train to work.

Me to neighbor, Phyllis: "Good morning and Happy New Year, Phyllis!"
Phyllis: "Ugh. This weather is awful." [I kid not, that was her actual reply.]

Mother and young six-year-old-looking child walking on sidewalk:

Mother watches child carefully, uses right arm to shield child's head, uses other arm to tie scarf tightly around her neck, and burrows her brow.

Child escapes mother's guarding arms, runs toward the falling snow, and sticks tongue out.

Looking back to get forward

2008-01-01T15:49:00.000-05:00

So A put on a brand-new H&M suit with silk tie and showed up for the orientation/workshop at Mordor Stanley, I mean, uh, Big Time Global Financial Services Firm. A learned how to shake hands while holding a drink, what food to order during a business lunch (spaghetti is a no-no for businessmen who are, apparently, sloppy eaters), and how to network.

Well, I'm glad A learned something about networking.

Before starting winter break, Alex dug up his play from his involvement in last year's playwriting group and submitted it to the BTBSA Playwriting Festival committee for consideration. Four plays get showcased in the spring, and possibly a big name playwright (and former alum) shows up to give the playwrights individual feedback.

"Just submit it," I said.
"Why?" A said.
"Why not?" I said. "You've already written it, so you have nothing else to do but email it to the committee."
"Sigh," A said, "Okay. But I don't think it'll get picked."

Did I mention that A wrote his play while part of a student group founded by Steven Sondheim?

A's play got picked.

Also during this winter break, A discovered the musical greats that are Leadbelly, Otha Turner, Son House, John Lee Hooker, and other Blues musicians. He began downloading their music immediately. A's radio playlist includes Leadbelly's original "Where Did You Sleep Last Night" alongside Nirvana's MTV Unplugged version of the same song.

We also re-discovered Bob Dylan by watching Martin Scorsese's "No Direction Home" and Todd Haynes's "I'm Not There."

"Mom, you know when Dylan would...transform...on the stage?"

LaMai asks: How many musicians can you say actually "transform" on stage? Is this a dying art? The last of the Siberian zoo tigers? When I see a musician so sublimely possessed, to me, it is a wonder to behold. I'd pay money to see non-fake stage transformation/possession any day.

A few Dylan tracks covered by Sonic Youth and The White Stripes are also on A's latest radio playlist.

What gives me hope when learning about the oldness of American music is that it affirms to me that nothing is completely, entirely new...we do, in fact, return to a tried-and-true foundation of something deeper, and wiser, than our foolish young minds would like to believe is too deep or wise to have been there first (it's often an arrogant..and reckless...way of thinking that I encounter often among my younger friends, particularly in Gotham City). Sort of reminds me of how a certain Johnny Ramone insisted that his band was about a "pure white -- not black -- rock and roll."

We looked at guitars at Manny's on 48th Street (out of towners: DO NOT miss Manny's if you love music and happen to visit NYC; the original Jimi Hendrix receipts are tacked right on their wall). Alex tried out a L'Arrivee and a vintage Martin. Martin is an older company, but the Larrivee sounded good enough for me to want to buy.

A and I have talked about summer options, and it looks like he'll return to the summer Calculus program he participated in last year. I'll probably help him regurgitate his play to submit to yet another playwriting competition.

A has a new Canon EOS digital camera which I gave him for Hanukkah. "The exposure is weird. I never have these problems with film cameras." For the Need It Now media/photography industry, digital is great and is now the standard. For art photographers (I have specific names in mind), digital is not yet there. A's new digital camera fills a need -- he can do photojournalistic/sports shots for his school paper or learn PhotoShop in a cinch without first scanning film prints. I personally believe the film photography industry moved a little too quickly when it eliminated certain types of papers entirely from the market. But my kid gets to participate in an activity that requires the speed of digital, and he gets to participate in a social scene at school that is new to him.

And me? I am knitting a sweater for A in merino wool from a tried-and-true WWII pattern. While A plays a WWII video game on his Macbook.

The Global Financial Services Firm.

2007-12-18T19:54:00.000-05:00

So, A is home for the winter holiday.

He's been jammin' on his guitar (don't I love to be serenaded? I do, after a long absence from hearing the guitar!), reading Sir Thomas Mallory, going to the movies with me to see "Atonement" (just for you older teens, okay?) and "I'm Not There" (ditto), and looking up words on Google such as "IDF" and "Haganah" and "Shin Bet" and "Mossad" (Oh, dear, I knew the day would come).

He has completed a Fall term and part Winter term nearly unscathed in his new "institutional student" status from his new prep school in New England.

Ladies and Gentlemen, it can be done.

But done does not mean done without challenges.

We have such a one in A's email inbox. "You have been selected on the recommendation of Teacher XYZ to intern this summer at Big Time Global Financial Services Firm. Please attend the Global Financial Services Firm orientation in New York City, to take place on the Twelfth Night. The golden door with the candle will mark your entry to the Tower of Orientation. Please wear your cloaks, under which you must have on business attire. Satan will await with a deep green pen as you sign your souls away to corporate life under Big Time Global Financial Services Firm. Of course, we will pay for acquisition of your soul. Ten dollars an hour, for six weeks. "

Or something like that.

I wonder if Big Time Boarding School A (BTBSA) forgot that they gave Alex a scholarship to do science research this summer?

I read the "invitation" the first time and my heart sank. My son is a scientist/artist. Not a businessman. No No NO!

Then I remembered Mick Jagger studied business and went to the London School of Economics. Oh yes! Redemption!

But then, lest I forget, there is also the Summer Term in China and the summer term in Calculus...both in which A wanted to embark. This is where we curse the laws of Physics that govern time and space (A can only choose one course for the same 6 weeks on the calendar), and also curse the calendar for offering such a short summer.

Sigh.

In other news, A is studying for the AP French exam. BTBSA refused to place him in fourth-year French, so he is going to take the exam, anyway. He studies every weekend and seems to be making very good progress.

I've noticed that BTBSA doesn't like when students do "their own thing." I keep reminding myself, "It's an institution. They can't help it. They don't know better."

And really, they don't.

crouching dysfunctional kids, hidden parent

2007-12-02T17:16:00.000-05:00

I would like to begin and end this post by saying that the living skeleton in my family is a Cuban called Fidel Castro. Unfortunately, dear bloggy reader, my life could not be that simple.

The living skeleton is actually a single parent who is raising two kids in sunny Miami, ignores what the kids learn in school, loathes the act of cooking for them and feeds them breakfast cereal for dinner.

She is my cousin. My Cousin in Miami (CIM).

Perhaps I am overreacting in giving her living skeleton status. But last night, after a two-hour phone conversation with another cousin in South Carolina, I learned that CIM's breakfast cereal-turned-dinner is occasionally replaced by a Dunkin Donuts "meal" (Tony Bourdain, I am right there with you on your recent criticism of Rachael Ray. Her latest endorsement is just Evil. Could someone finally please teach Ms. Ray about Integrity in Food?).

I am guessing that CIM is not the only one who relinquishes her childrens' brains to the random schoolteacher, and allows the system to work its magic on their grey matter. But my South Carolina cousin (SCC) informed me, "No, you don't understand...she doesn't even know her kids' teachers by name." Worse, SCC became concerned enough to ask CIM's kids to show HER their report cards. SCC flipped. "You're failing in Math? Does your mother know?" The child shook her head.

Neglect is a touchy subject in my family. I was a child of regular doses of neglect (a.k.a., The Spectacular Free-Spirited Seventies!). And I suspect some of us homeschooler parents may overcompensate in our kids' educations because of our own perceived parental uninvolvement -- but I'll leave that one to you kiddos to psychoanalyze for yourselves.

Anyhoo, SCC decided to intervene in the food matter and let CIM's kids eat a real sit-down restaurant. No instant gratification facilitated by quick meals, no plastic utensils. So SCC and CIM's kids go to at Gloria Estefan's restaurant on Ocean Drive. Yes, that one. It was during this noble venture in (greasy) food education, that one of CIM's kids blurted out, "BUT I'D RATHER EAT BURGER KING!" Note: The kids are age 12 and 14 years old.

SCC and I agreed that CIM's kids need help. I want to call a family intervention on CIM, I really do. The issues we'd address would include her kids' malnutrition, CIM's partying ways (sorry, won't get into that here, but let's just say there is an issue of a certain quantity of men), and the need for her to pay attention to her kids' education.

Unfortunately, because neglect is not a new issue in that side of my family, the fractured relationships prevent a family-size "intervention" from happening.

A question to ponder from LaMai: In addition to your involvement with your kids' education, what do YOU do to reinforce healthy family relations?

and then there was the sympathetic ear

2007-11-29T22:43:00.000-05:00

A couple of days after my last frustrating post, I spoke to a school counselor at A's school.

"I think your school is driving me and my son nuts," I cried. "This is why."

The counselor listened. She was oh-so-patient. She spoke to A directly --- and discreetly --- and lent her ear to his feedback. She was as shocked as I was about A's experiences, and made some recommendations, and armed me with information. Seems she was proactive, too, because things started happening.

I received emails. A was given a treat party at his dorm. The form dean who I initially loathed for his lack of cooperation was finally responsive.

And A's academic grades, which were already good, went up a bit...he became comfortable with BTBSA at some point. He very very nearly made the Dean's List, as well, by a half a point.

Still, I encountered resistance from the form advisor on some things. Boarding schools, even if progressive, are still conservative by progressive school standards. Does that make sense?

Example: A wanted to take Photography in the spring. His form dean said "No." "No room" in his schedule to take Photography. I called the Photography instructor. He couldn't help, he was starting sabbatical, and he recommend that A start approaching faculty with his issues on his own. It seems that that is the BTBSA way. I begun to understand why.

(Note: This is something I like *very much* about b-schools...students are expected to handle their matters themselves without parental intervention, as part of encouraging their personal growth process. These kids' parents will NOT be the ones who call Human Resources at their child's first place of employment to complain about their precious babies' probationary work evaluations!).

Anyway, I told A to talk to the Arts director, and he did. Then A marched back to the form dean, photography portfolio in hand, and said, "Look. Photography is my passion. Please accommodate my schedule. Your arts program is one of the main reasons why I came here at all." The form dean looked at the portfolio, and said, "Um, I am not a photography critic. I am just a layman." Then, miraculously, A's spring schedule included Photography. Oh yes, the form dean had to CHANGE EVERYTHING in the schedule to include Photography, but darn it, the course is now there.

Another problem that came up this winter term is that the form dean stupidly scheduled A's classes straight through the day, past the time that the dining hall closes after serving lunch. Another email from me: "Excuse me? My son does not order in. He eats lunch on campus in the dining hall, sitting down, and for longer than 5 minutes in-between classes. Please fix. Thank you." The schedule was rectified by 10 AM the morning following my email.

Are there social class issues? Yes and no. In the above scenario, a wealthy student would probably order in food from a local restaurant four days a week and blow off the scheduling snafu. Or perhaps the wealthier parents wouldn't be calling to complain about a missing photography course. They could just purchase a photography travel course to the Sahara desert or Papeete and sonny boy would have a nice little exotic exhibit in the school arts center.

I relish the ways I can still participate in my son's life (and be useful as a guerilla educator!).

There is a joy to the process of getting what you want where it is possible to be had.

Tonight, A's uber-Republican roommate, IAAR!, wanted to know why A was playing Somali oud music. "Look, I don't mind you playing that Arab music. But it's weird."

"Mom?"

"Yes, hon?"

"IAAR is ridiculous. He thinks Somalis are Arabic because they're muslim. Says it's all the same. I wish he'd be more open-minded."

I really had to laugh.

And how did A learn about Somali oud music at all? Because he DJs at BTBSA on Tuesdays. And researches music. And learned that Hamza el Din, who was Egyptian, attracted the attention of the Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan. Much like Ravi Shankar got a fanbase in that group known as the Beatles. If not for the Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan, A would not be learning about global oud music.

In other news, I've learned that in my ripe 30s, I am starting menopause. No joke. LaMai's FSH levels are off the charts. Turns out my mother started at 38.

Sympathy comments are welcome.

ok maybe...

2007-10-25T00:37:00.001-04:00

I am not so crazy about A's new school.

Maybe A got locked out of his room one evening --- At 12:41 AM (an event which I will call "the incident") and no adults responded. At all.

Maybe on the same night, at 12:42 AM, A noticed that he had his cellphone on hand and called his dorm advisor on duty -- but the dorm advisor did not respond. Then LaMai called and also got no response. Then LaMai called the other dorm advisor. No response. Then the dorm adult down the hall. No response. Then LaMai left emails. No response until two days later. Then A called campus security for help getting back into his room now that it was 1:15 AM (an event which I will call "the incident equivalent to calling the police").

Perhaps also the Form Advisor actually questioned LaMai about LaMai's Honesty and if LaMai Had Actually Reached Out To The Registrar About Correct French Class Placement Before A Started School This Fall (an event which I will call "the alleged non-incident.") Maybe LaMai, as a result, thinks the Form Advisor is a supreme jerk as a result of his belief that "the alleged non-incident" is actually true.

Maybe IAAR! is truly intolerable. Because the ammonia smells from IAAR!'s dirty laundry invading A's airspace are now just A Little Too Much.

And then, there's the Fight Club thing. Oh yes. It happened. An actual Fight Club was formed. At my kid's dorm.

And then, there's the Fight Club Decree That Fight Club Shall No Longer Exist enacted by my kid's dorm advisor.

Perhaps tonight there was also The History Assignment. For which A stated he was sure to get an "F."

After which LaMai said, "Oh, good G-d, just come the hell home."

LaMai cannot sleep.

home for the long weekend

2007-10-20T11:08:00.000-04:00

A is home for the long weekend. It is also his b-day weekend.

Yesterday, A's school (BTBSA) held parent-teacher conferences and I took the day off work to travel there and participate.

I also got to sit in on A's classes. I was honestly surprised with the quality of the teaching. The teachers seemed great, amazingly well qualified and engaging. After classes was an abnormally long (compared to A's normal schedule) lunch totaling two hours, then the parent-teacher conferencing.

The conferencing was done in the athletic center, conducted like a cross between a job fair and speed dating session on academic steroids. All the teachers were lined up in rows, divided and labeled with placards in the special school font, by subject, and every eight minutes, a bell would go off (that was the parents' cue to get the hell out and on to the next teacher).

Furious handshakes. Look down at the schedule for the next teacher and time. Switch.

I made it to the coffee/apple cider/cookies station several times.

I observed parents behaving badly.

One parent could not erase a frown off her face. She was Asian, impeccably dressed in Textiles and Designs You Clearly Cannot Get In The U.S. Her face was very long, and very intricately painted (red being the marquee color), so the frown effect made her look like a dragon lady who had smelled something seriously foul. She sat next to me during Chinese class. I was scared. Apparently, she did not approve of A's Mandarin teacher. Maybe the teacher was too "yo, homegirl!" too "country bumpkin" and messy-haired for this sophisticated Hong Kong mother. I don't know. I love A's Mandarin teacher. I love that as soon as she walked in to her classroom and immediately began asking her students questions in Mandarin, they answered in their new language without hesitation. She could have the Chinese equivalent of a Roadside At The Hicksville Trailer Truck Stop Cafe accent, but I love that she is energetic, and can talk to me in English and smile at the same time. Some things just don't need translation.

Another mother, a waify blond-haired thing in A Very Serious Shade of Purple, without saying anything or introducing herself to me, leaned over and looked at my name card and deliberately began flipping pages in her copy of the school facebook. She was clearly searching for a name that matched mine.

I was finally able to meet A's favorite teacher -- his "G-d" of English Literature, the Leader and Middle Ground, the "agon" in the struggle (neither "prot" nor "ant"), the self-efffacing, the mu yet the all-knowing, the O Captain My Captain who will lead the young ones to The Truth. His name is Mr. Magnificent. "Your son is veddy tall," he told me with a smile. "And I am veddy short."

I swear that was the juice of my meeting with Mr. Magnificent.

The surprise of the day was finding a homeschool student from A's homeschool group in New York, now at BTBSA. The homeschooler is named M. She is one of the anti-Darwins, but I guess A might take comfort knowing that someone, a vestigial relation from his small educational universe, evolved sufficiently to land in his new school.

I have cake to buy. Have a good weekend, everyone.

dum dum dum...

2007-10-18T00:25:00.000-04:00

*

*The science wing at A's new school. So much nicer than my undergraduate science building. I want my Stafford Loan money back.

So A got his first midterm report. He is doing well in his classes at his new school and well in Chemistry, which he took over the summer at a NY university. I am happy that despite his rowing, DJing, and wanting to be admitted to the Arts Concentration Program...he is doing okay, academically.

The downside is he frequently tells me he cannot talk to me on the phone because he's busy studying.

His essays need work. I think this is a common homeschoolers' issue. Fluidity, coherence, being on point, sharp-shooting your argument. His current school -- which is not Taft (ha!), and not in Massachusetts (ha ha!) -- grades really tough on the essays. It's annoying and it hurts. But it'll make him a stronger writer, I say.

Today A took the PSAT, which was mandatory, then he helped another school crew team prepare for the Head of the Charles regatta (for those not in the know, it's the American equivalent of the Royal Henley Regatta in England). He volunteered to row starboard for another school in need -- because they were missing two rowers today.

His roommate (who I will call "I am a Republican!" because that is what he calls himself, "IAAR!" for short), turns out, is a legacy kid. Great-granchild of RockeMelloCarnegsomebody. I still don't get why IAAR! needs to borrow money from my A. And tells other students that A has no friends (I guess Asian friends don't count?).

IAAR! chimed up in class last week to report that global warming is a fiction. I am wondering if he has been to Greenland lately. A tells me that IAAR!'s dirty clothes are now inching precariously close to his side of the room. One of IAAR's sweat-soaked shirts may have touched A's desk chair.

A is so tolerant of IAAR!. I would be less Ghandhi-like if he were my roommate.

Then, there's the school radio station. Ah, yes. Here's A's playlist his first night DJing for the school radio station:

The Man Who Sold the World - Nirvana (unplugged)
Life On Mars? - Seu Jorge
If I Had Possession Over Judgement Day - Robert Johnson
Hear My Train A Comin' (Acoustic Version)- Jimi Hendrix
Mannish Boy - Muddy Waters
Happy Jack - The Who
Jumpin' Jack Flash - The Rolling Stones
Jynweythek Ylow - Aphex Twin
Street Fighting Man - The Rolling Stones
Hong Kong Garden (With Strings Intro) - Siouxsie and The Banshees
Renegades of Funk - Rage Against The Machine
Izabella (Live at Woodstock Remastered in 1999) - Jimi Hendrix
Woodstock Improvisation (Live at Woodstock Remastered in 1999) - Jimi Hendrix
Villanova Junction (Live at Woodstock Remastered in 1999) - Jimi Hendrix
War Within a Breath - Rage Against The Machine
Lover Man (Live at Woodstock Remastered in 1999) - Jimi Hendrix
Life On Mars? - David Bowie
Money (That's What I Want) - Buddy Guy
I'm Waiting For The Man - The Velvet Underground and Nico
Rollin 'n' Tumblin' - Canned Heat
Crossroads - Cream
Straight Ahead - Jimi Hendrix
Queen Bitch - David Bowie

Can you tell he likes Jimi Hendrix? After his first night DJing and reading the playlist, I explained about not overdosing his audience with one band or musician...break them in lightly, so that they want more. And I never listened to many of the bands/musicians listed. I was surprised with his ability to convey the nuance of music identity -- the two first songs are David Bowie songs, covered by other musicians, one a Brazilian acoustic guitar guy.

And it's all stuff he discovered on his own. I promise, we're not hippies.

And speaking of not being hippies, I was at Hilly's memorial service two nights ago. A Ramone spoke, a Talking Head spoke, a Dead Boy spoke, a Shirt spoke, a Living Color singer spoke, a Television guy spoke, a Richard Hell spoke, a music producer from England spoke, and then everybody drank.

Just like the old man would have wanted.

I miss the old man.

OK, this is silly, but, ya know...

2007-10-01T16:16:00.000-04:00

So, LaMai, how are you doing?

2007-09-30T00:49:00.000-04:00

Q: How are you coping with A's absence?

Well...these first few weeks I will admit, I have behaved like a jealous girlfriend.

Me: Hi, A. It's me.
A: Hi Mom. I can't talk now...I have to go to dinner.
Me: What? You don't miss me?
A: Erm...no, it's not that. It's just that I can't talk right now...dinner started a half hour ago and I just have a few minutes left to...
Me: But you don't call me 329 times a day like you did last week.
A: Mom? Do you want me to eat?
Me: Don't you miss me? Fine. I get it. You CAN'T TALK.

Okay, that's not an actual conversation, but you get the idea. I visited A one weekend to check up on him, see how he was doing.

A is making friends. Almost all his friends are Asian. I am not sure why this is, but I am hoping this will secure a decent study ethic.

His roommate is a slob.

And creates bad smells in the dorm.

And asks A for money.

I have addressed the above issues with A.

A signed up to DJ at the school radio station one day a week.

Joined a club or two.

Is learning piano in addition to guitar.

Is rowing and will compete at a regatta this week with his team.

Hates his Chem teacher.

Loves his English teacher.

Fell off his bunk bed last week.

Thinks the food is below average. It is "bland."

Learned to play pool.

And ping pong. With his Asian homies.

Takes a shuttle bus to Wal-Mart on Saturdays. This, despite our talks about the Wal-Mart ethos.

Is perpetually busy or exhausted.

So LaMai has come to realize, that her A really *doesn't* have too much free time to chat. His school keeps him plenty occupied.

And me? If I am actually suffering the syndrome that is "empty nest" syndrome. I think I am. But goodness, there is so much to do. Who has time to live vicariously through one's child? It's certainly not what I homeschooled him for.

And tomorrow, I have a flight academy to go to. I have decided that I will learn to fly.

One reason to use the Well Trained Mind curriculum...

2007-09-15T16:01:00.001-04:00

Destiny.

2007-09-10T21:14:00.001-04:00

Our beloved greyhound, a former racing athlete who was too skittish at the starting gate to actually make a career of the sport, and wound up being adopted by me and A, died at my mother's home this afternoon in Florida.

Born: "Okie Destry" in Oklahoma.
Lived: as "Destiny" after LaMai thought "Destry" sounded too much like "destroy" and the vet made the mistake of calling him Destiny on his medical papers.

He was only nine years old.

Our decision

2007-09-06T12:29:00.000-04:00

...did not come without tears, confusion, emails to school officials, a last-minute mutiny of our school decision (72 hours ago), with reversal, and general "OH MY G-D I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM RELINQUISHING MY ROLE AS GODDESS AND UBER-OVERSEER OF ACADEMICS" malaise.

It was hard.

As I was about to leave A at his new school this week, observing his cute Converse shoes against his blue slacks, jacket and tie, he smiled and told me, "Mom, I feel as though I am living a once-in-a-lifetime miracle."

We chose to accept -- and matriculate at --- BTBSA.

We chose the school for many reasons. But primarily, BTBSA kept in constant communication with me and A from the time he was accepted. Most impressive were the phone calls from non-staff. "Hi. I am the parent of so-and-so. Do you have any questions about the school? We can help." and "Hi. I am so-and-so? Is A available? I'd love to talk to him about my school" and "Hi. I'm A's roommate. I can't wait to meet him. He's going to have a great time. Please call me with any questions or just to chat. I'm here."

There were a few things that were not snag-free. Namely, the course placement process took a really long time and I felt as though I were dealing with Mao Tse Tung's henchmen. "We'll take care of A's courses" then it was, "We have no records for your son" then things became ambiguous, mysterious. I was told things like, "The teachers know where to place him" and I was kept out of the loop altogether with course placement. Which prompted me to become more interrogative. It was as if BTBSA forgot that A was a homeschooler. HOME schooler. I am head of the HOME. I have knowledge. I have evaluative skills. Please keep me in the loop, people, or I will bite your head off if you don't do this right.

Our issues with this were not resolved until the day before school began. But BTBSA worked around the clock to make good with us.

Anyway, A registered for his first day this week. When we arrived, we were assigned a Move-In Buddy. He walked us to A's dorm. Walked us to A's mailbox. Helped walk packages to A's dorm. Took us to the bookstore and waited while our books were picked up and paid for. Answered our questions. Walked us to the Student Center for A's photo-taking. Walked us the computer configuration building.

We kept getting approached by older students. "You new to BTBSA? Welcome, man," and the handshakes between A and the BTBSA student would begin. I couldn't believe that we were treated so well (things did not happen that way at my b-school!).

Then, inevitably I noticed The Parents. Of the Other New Students. Remember them? The ones from Botoxlandia, Stress-istan, and The Corporate-Mogul States of America? Yes. They were plenty. I actually had to overhear this:

A heavy-set looking dad to his son: "So. What is going to be your plan for organizing your socks and underwear, son? Do you have that under control?" Yes, LaMai is so sure that the young man's socks and underwear were bound to escape and create havoc on the young man's academics if they were not properly reined-in and organized.

From a mother with a very stretched and eye-opened face: "What is my child expected to ask of her Grade Advisor? What are the students allowed to ask you? What things should they not ask you?" Grade Advisor: Erm...anything can be asked. There are no rules with questions.

From a very ambitious Asian father: "I want my son to learn about cross-cultural relations. What does the dorm do to encourage, stress, and maintain cross-cultural relations?" Very Cool (and Observant) Sandals-Wearing Dorm Advisor And Dad To Four Kids: Erm, we watch movies and occasionally have organized events. But the school has a good offering of cultural clubs. I just advise against telling your son he must join a particular club that YOU want him to join or else. It should happen organically.

In other words, PARENTS PLEASE CHILL OUT! Your kids have brains. Let them live and learn and make a few mistakes.

At the dorm across from A's, I noticed some seniors playing guitar barefoot, one pounding away on a tabla drum.

As A got ready for his first "special dress" dinner and met with his dorm mates who were also attired in special dress, I observed the flourish of blue sports jackets and khaki pants topping the brown oxfords. Then I looked at my A. Blue corduroy jacket, tie, blue pants, Converse sneakers.

"You look great. Like a rock star." He smiled.

We don't do Ticky Tacky Boxes. His new school accepted him knowing that.

Educational Update! For real!

2007-09-04T21:15:00.000-04:00

September 19th is upon us.

There is really, honestly, nothing more educational than what you ought to be doing on this day.

It is why kids feel compelled to be in "school" in September.

It is why the wind changes.

It is why alcoholic drinks made from cane juice taste better for you parents.

It is why every year, up until this year, Harry Potter book sales would plummet.

Just do it.

Your kids will thank you.

Sayonara.

2007-06-08T10:43:00.001-04:00

I haven't posted anything educational in a long while -- I guess I am just wrapping things up for A.

Princess: I saw "Pirates" -- Orlando Bloom, Johnny Depp, and Billy Nighy (finally getting to see his face) are the only reasons I saw this flick. And oh yeah, Mr. Richards.

Amanda/Calletta: I'll be lurking (around your blog).

Becky: Ditto. Because you know your blog intimidates me.

L at MySchola: See you Down Under if you don't come back here.

Everyone else: Thanks for coming by. I really do enjoy your emails and letters and thingys I get sent. They are really sweet.

Here at work, I was the recipient of many fan emails and nuts (fans of a certain show who wanted their show back on the air after it was cancelled -- I guess you can check the CNN archives about that one). That these fans actually got their show back gives me hope in grass-roots activism again, and the power of the people.

If you were around during my Campaign For The Club, you will understand my happiness for them. We *can* make things happen. We *can* change things.

Which reminds me -- please consider Ron Paul (R) and Barack Obama (D) when you drop your ballot in 2008.

I'll be starting another blog in the fall - I guess that'll be my next life. Which is what we have to look forward to when our kids get so big that they really do have lives of their own. *We* get our second wind. Our second life. Our Next Big Gig.

See you later.

And please: don't relinquish your kid's brain to somebody else unless you're comfortable with what's going in it.

The other night...

2007-06-05T14:18:00.001-04:00

sweaty and feverish, and very much asleep, A swatted my hand away from his forehead.

DON'T TOUCH.

DON'T TOUCH ME.

GET OFF.

NOT UNTIL THE TRICK OR TREAT.

OKAY? NOT UNTIL THE TRICK OR TREAT.

from the New York Times

2007-06-05T11:27:00.000-04:00

Reconsideration
Current Thinking
HEATHER ROGERS
Published: June 3, 2007

When Mayor Michael Bloomberg recently announced his vision of development in New York City over the next 25 years, he highlighted a plan to reduce greenhouse-gas emissions by 30 percent. To anyone who has studied the history of power consumption in the United States, his proposal sounded a curious echo. New York, after all, was home to one of the country’s first central power stations, built by Thomas Edison in 1882. No individual deserves more credit, or blame, for America’s voracious electricity consumption than Edison, who conceived not only that generating station but also the notoriously inefficient incandescent bulb and a slew of volt-thirsty devices.

Yet Edison, godfather of electricity-intensive living, was also an unlikely green pioneer whose ideas about renewable power still resonate today. At the turn of the 20th century, when Edison was at the height of his career, the notion that buildings, which now account for more than a third of all energy consumed in the United States, would someday require large amounts of power was only just coming into focus. Where that power would come from — central generating stations or in-home plants; fossil fuels or renewable resources — was still very much up for debate.

A 1901 article about Edison in The Atlanta Constitution described how his unorthodox ideas about batteries could bring wattage to the countryside: “With a windmill coupled to a small electric generator,” a rural inhabitant “could bottle up enough current to give him light at night.” The earliest wind-powered house was fired up in Cleveland in 1888 by the inventor Charles Brush, but Edison aspired to take the technology to the masses. He made drawings of a windmill to power a cluster of four to six homes, and in 1911 he pitched manufacturers on building a prototype.

Edison’s batteries also fueled some cars and trucks, and he joined forces with Henry Ford to develop an electric automobile that would be as affordable and practical as the Model T. The Constitution article discussed plans to let people recharge their batteries at plug-in sites along trolley lines; the batteries could also be refreshed courtesy of the home windmill.

Talented not only at devising new technologies, Edison was an entrepreneur keenly skilled at selling them. If residents in areas without central power gained access to electrical current, he surely knew that more consumers might buy his batteries, bulbs and phonographs. Finding ways to get voltage to people without it made good business sense.

Edison also, like other scientists of his day, was beginning to understand even then that fossil fuels wouldn’t last forever. In 1913 Scientific American published an issue on energy problems, observing: “The question of the possible exhaustion of the world’s oil supply deserves the gravest consideration. There is every indication that we are face to face with this possibility.” Articles delved into technologies to capture the power of the sun, the wind, the tide and even the earth’s rotation. Inventors like Edison were modernizers who couldn’t bear the inefficiency of letting an abundant energy source like wind go untapped.

In 1912 Edison unveiled an energy-self-sufficient home in West Orange, N.J. Billed as an experimental “Twentieth Century Suburban Residence” and designed to showcase his batteries, it bulged with luxuries like air heating and cooling units, a clothes-washing machine, an electric cooking range and, of course, plenty of light bulbs. Completely off the grid, the house received its juice from a generator that charged a bank of 27 cells in the basement. For this first attempt, Edison used a gas-run motor, but evidence suggests that he hoped to hook up to a wind turbine. The system would allow the prospective homeowner to be, according to The New York Times, “utterly and for all time independent of the nearness or farness of the big electric companies.”

The conglomerates struggling to control the nascent energy sector regarded that as precisely the problem. For them, a world of independence, in which householders created their own power using renewable resources, was a nightmare. The companies’ profits depended on electricity from power plants run on cheap fossil fuels.

In the end, Edison’s proudly free-standing Suburban Residence was hooked up to the grid, and neither his in-home wind-generated electricity plant nor his battery-powered vehicles ever reached the mass market. In 1931, not long before he died, the inventor told his friends Henry Ford and Harvey Firestone: “I’d put my money on the sun and solar energy. What a source of power! I hope we don’t have to wait until oil and coal run out before we tackle that.”

Heather Rogers is a filmmaker and the author of “Gone Tomorrow: The Hidden Life of Garbage.”

Free performances

2007-06-03T10:36:00.000-04:00

Get there by 7:30 AM, and you'll get a good spot to see the performers listed below. Performances by 9:00 AM and maybe another set before 10:00 AM.

ABC is broadcasting from Bryant Park --- show up before 7:30 AM and enter by the Sixth Avenue side.

ABC's "Good Morning America"

June 8: Robin Thicke
June 15: Brad Paisley
June 22: Hannah Montana (a k a Billy Cyrus' daughter, Miley)
June 29: Patti LaBelle
July 6: Norah Jones
July 13: Fantasia
July 20: John Mayer and special guest
July 27: Sugarland
Aug. 3: John Legend
Aug. 10: Mika
Aug. 17: To be announced
Aug. 24: To be announced

NBC's "Today" (Rockefeller Center)

June 8: Rihanna
June 13: "Legally Blonde" musical cast
June 15: Enrique Iglesias
June 19: Bon Jovi
June 22: Chicago and America
June 29: Hilary Duff
July 6: Fall Out Boy
July 13: KT Tunstall
July 20: "Hairspray" musical cast
July 27: Marc Anthony
Aug. 3: Vince Gill and Amy Grant
Aug. 10: Natasha Bedingfield
Aug. 17: To be announced
Aug. 24: Martina McBridge
Aug. 31: Chris Brown

What it means to be a mother.

2007-06-01T15:45:00.001-04:00

ring, ring...

2007-06-01T14:28:00.000-04:00

This morning me and A talked about the yummy vegetarian place in Chinatown from this past weekend. The swan-shaped dumplings were soooo good. "Can I go today for lunch?" A asked me. Sure, I tell him.

Then I received a frantic phone call from A this morning around 11:30 AM.

"Mom, I don't know how to get to Buddha Bodai."

I had a stack of press releases in front of me, and one publicist needed a press guide NOW.

"Erm...Buddha Bodai? Hon, just go up Canal and make a right on Mott."

A: But where is Mott?
Me: What do you mean, where is Mott? Head east on Canal toward the Manhattan Bridge, and you can't miss Mott.
A: I don't see it on this Mapquest map.

I get pinged a Mapquest map on MSN instant messenger. He was right. Mott wasn't on it.

Me: Stop reading Mapquest maps! They're horrid!
A: Mom, how do I get to Buddha Bodai?
Me: Erm...

[the publicist sends me yet another email wanting her press guide NOW]

A: OH Wait...I see Mott. It's so far away from the star. It crosses Canal. You're right. Okay, thanks, mom, byeeeeee....

a tale of two schools

2007-05-31T07:07:00.000-04:00

One won't even let us attend its Open House or Orientation ("We're so sorry, it's too complicated right now").

The other paid for our hotel to attend its school revisit. A sat in on three classes.

One insists on having A take a Math test now, despite my affirmations that A will be taking the next (advanced) level Math course this summer at CUNY.

The other school says it will wait to re-test A once he is done with his class at CUNY.

One school has barely any sports teams.

The other invests a lot of money into its sports teams.

One is so far away from the subway, and you have to walk through dubious characters in the projects to get there.

One is a bedroll away from your classroom.

Oh, the guilt is falling away...

2007-05-30T10:52:00.001-04:00

Co-worker: Do you know how much the administrative assistant makes?
Me: Dare I ask?
Co-worker: Guess.
Me: $25,000 annually more than me.
Co-worker: Nope.
Me: More?
Co-worker: She makes the most of anybody here. Including the publicists.
Me: How much more?
Co-worker: [insert number that is $40,000 more than I make]
Me: You're kidding.
Co-worker. Nope.
Me: She told you this?
Co-worker: Yep. And I had to swear I wouldn't tell.

[note to everyone reading: don't divulge your salary to anyone!]

Okay. The resumes will rip this weekend.

You're Doing a Great Job!

2007-05-29T20:42:00.000-04:00

So said my boss this past Friday.

I know I am doing a great job. I could do my job in my sleep already. I wake up early and put on my smile and have convinced myself that I really *should* be grateful for my job. So I do my job as if I am going on vacation for a long, long time.

I leave no stone unturned.

I asked my boss about my merit raise that was supposed to happen in April. It wasn't even the normal merit raise. It was 1/4 of 4% which would have turned out to be just a couple of thousand dollars.

"Well, we didn't really know how things would play out. You weren't here that long -- so we decided to wait until next April."
I see.
"You ARE doing a great job, LaMai."
Thanks.

Today, while I waited for A to finish his Playwriting class, I stepped into a Barnes & Noble. I read one of those Vault books that tells you how much you *should* be making.

And what I *should* be making is $30,000 more than I am.

Let the resumes rip.

2007-05-28T19:23:00.001-04:00

I wonder when Memorial Day became The Day to Put Meats on the Grill and Beat Out All the Other Shoppers at the Annual Store Sale or Go To The Hamptons Day.

We did none of the above. Instead, we spent the day doing mundane things like reading and napping -- mostly "quiet" time. Maybe it was a little somber. I felt the heaviness of what today actually means. Despite that I've lived through a few world conflicts, I think maybe I felt this heaviness for the first time.

I know that I am lucky to have A here with me, to enjoy his smiles and occasional silly humor on any given day.

Sunday

2007-05-27T21:44:00.000-04:00

Sunday, and Manhattan is empty and yet is teeming with people.

Empty on sidewalks normally full -- teeming with people in stores. Uniqlo. Bloomingdale's. Banana Republic. Dean & Deluca.

A and I had lunch in Chinatown at a Buddhist vegetarian place on the advice of our former Japanese neighbor (the origami tie guy). His wife couldn't meet us, as she was sick at home. We ate dim sum hand-shaped like swans. And the taro curd cake with bean sauce was dreamy. Exceedingly good. We visited our Japanese friend's artist studio. We left at the appropriate time (after about the third yawn and when his left eyelid began to close involuntarily).

Mom, what is that called again?
Food coma, hon.

Shall we see Pirates? Yes? No?

We stopped for bubble tea. It had been a very long time since I had had bubble tea. I forgot how incredibly *wide* bubble tea straws can be.

A voice came up behind me.
Do you want handbag? Gucci, Coach?
Wah?
Handbag? You want handbag? Gucci, Coach.

A looks at me.

Oh. Yeah sure. Handbag. I'll take a look.

The old Chinese man leads us around the block. He looks behind him, directly at us, but not directly at us -- behind us? Maybe 30 times.

We are still walking behind this Chinese man. Another younger Chinese man in a blue shirt is standing at a street corner. They do a subtle eye signal to each other. They think I don't notice.

The old Chinese man finally slows his pace. He dials up someone on his cell phone. He says five words that I do not understand. He turns to the ground and looks below. There is a stairwell in the ground, to G-d knows where, and we are to descend it.
Don't worry, I tell A. It'll be fine. Think: James Bond.
We descend. It is dark. It is a bare, nondescript room. The younger Chinese man in the blue shirt that I had seen giving the eye signal earlier suddenly appears. He takes over, and closes the door behind us.

There is a door in front of us. It has a very big bolt on the door. Blue shirt opens it and leads us in. He tells the older man to stand by the outside door.
Before us are Gucci, Coach and Prada bags. All counterfeit.
After perusing the wares, I thank him, but tell him, no, sorry, not today. We are allowed the freedom of leaving the secret basement store and seeing the sun shine again.

We walked towards Broadway.

Pearl River beckoned. If you haven't been to Manhattan, don't miss shopping on Broadway in SoHo. It's impossible to miss Pearl River. It's a yuppified Chinese-Japanese Pottery Barn/Kate's Paperie/Williams-Sonoma/JAS Mart/Eileen Fisher/novelty-style shop rolled into one.
Mom can I buy this?
Sure with your money.
Erm...I'll think about it.
Okay, let's go out now.
Wait I need time.
I want to go out.
No I need more time, mom.
We can come back another time --- no good to impulse shop. Trust me on this one.

The Scholastic store seduced us and A bought a Garth Nix book. There were lots of little kids in the store. A was embarasssed to be the only teen there.

We used the Scholastic store's loo.

Shall we see Pirates? Yes? No?

It's so hot. I wonder how Napoleon is doing.

Oooh -- the Leica store!

Let's go home.

Today was a good day, mom.

My mother called and informed me she would like to live in Spain.

We are now watching Kill Bill on Telemundo.

Thursday

2007-05-24T15:14:00.000-04:00

I would like a pretzel.

A is studying Zen Buddhism today.

I am listening to the Pistols' "EMI" on satellite radio here at work. Steven's voice on the airwaves sounds the same as in person.

I hope everyone has great plans for Memorial Day Weekend.

a night at playwriting

2007-05-23T21:39:00.000-04:00

Young Hip African-American Girl at the Desk: Hi. Are you one of our actors?
Me: Erm...no?
YHAAGD: No?
Me: No. I'm a parent?
YHAAGD: Of one of our students?
Me: Yes. I'm A's mum.
YHAAGD: Erm...okay.

I show myself to a chair and wait.

An older woman is checking herself out. She has a very VERY theatrical voice.

Me: Excuse me...are you one of the professional Broadway actors reading for the students tonight?
Older Woman with Theatrical Voice smiles and says: Yes. Are you here to read from their material?
Me: Erm...no. I'm one of the parents.
OWTV: Oh. Which one is yours?
Me: My son's name is A. He wrote a play about two playwrights...there's lots of writer's block and a duel...
OWTV: Oh. [she's nodding a lot now] His material was very good.
Me: Really?

[insert enormous inner smile here]

Tuesday means it will take eternity...

2007-05-22T22:00:00.000-04:00

I remember reading in "Under the Tuscan Sun" (the original story which has nothing to do with Diane Lane or being divorced or trying to get a younger Italian boyfriend) that one should not begin big jobs on a Tuesday. It is an omen for uncompleted work.

Today I looked at my very long list of To Dos, and felt that the Tuscan superstition may have a truth that applied to me in Manhattan.

***

Regarding the incident of a few posts down, in the homeschooling realm, we -- the members of the homeschooling group to which I loosely belong -- are debating how to approach the NYPD and our Homeschooling Coordinator so that everyone is, ahem, educated, and understands that the BoE issues homeschooling kids use Metrocards but not IDs. The NYPD is free to arrest anyone unlawfully using a student Metrocard. If a student does not have ID proving that he or she is a student, as was the case for our Shakespeare-loving homeschooler who was arrested on his way to A Midsummer's Night Dream rehearsal last week, you land in the slammer.

It's a touchy subject. Homeschoolers -- I will elaborate and qualify that -- unschoolers -- do not want to be investigated too much. It is bad enough that unschoolers have to turn in IHIPs to anyone to "prove" that their kids are meeting "standards." To get Metrocards, you must submit IHIPs. Now we -- as homeschoolers in general (if you are late coming into this show, A and I are not unschoolers)-- are worried that our kids will get arrested because the NYPD only seem to believe that students are students if they carry BoE-issued IDs. So we will allow the BoE to issue our homeschooling kids IDs.

Wrap your heads around this. The irony of this should not get lost. We are allowing policing of our kids so that our kids don't get roughed up by the police.

***

Today, A worked for four hours at his Tuesday day job, then went to Playwriting class. It was a nervewracking day for A, because a group of professional Broadway actors were supposed to read A's 20-page play this evening in front of his class. I would have been nervous, too. But I liked his play when he allowed me to read it. I told him it would be fine, and to enjoy the adrenaline rush while it happened.

Tonight, when I arrived at the playwriting class, the students were on break, and A was surrounded by other students, chatting away. I suspect he did well.

Conversations with my mother.

2007-05-20T11:00:00.000-04:00

Mother: I am on the waitlist for "The Secret." I am number 147.
Me: You do not need to be on the waitlist for "The Secret." I have a copy.
Mother: But you need your copy.
Me: No, it's okay. I don't need it. I prefer the film. The book is a supplement to the film.
Mother: What film?
Me: The film that the book is based on. The book IS JUST A SUPPLEMENT to the conversations in the film.
Mother: I don't want the film. I want the book.
Me: Erm...okay. But I can get you the film on DVD.
Mother: I don't WANT IT. I WANT THE BOOK.

Mother's Day. Among other things, my mother gets a copy of the book "The Secret."

Mother: This book doesn't read like a book.
Me: I know.
Mother: This book looks like it is based on a film.
Me: Yep.
Mother: I want the film.
Me: I explained that to you. I explained that the book is a supplement to the film. You didn't believe me.
Mother: You've seen the film?
Me: Yes, mother, I have. Do you want it?
Mother: Okay.

Okay, maybe...

2007-05-18T19:16:00.000-04:00

...I am grateful that I have a job at all to complain about. A job that comps my car trips, and magazines of my choosing at the shop downstairs. And occasionally rolls out the red carpet and allows LaMai to walk on it and have a drink or two at the Tavern on the Green. Okay, that was actually fun.

...Even though my colleagues from L.A. had to come here. Dude, they're sooooo different. (please hand her a water)

...I am grateful that the security guard in my lobby at work says "Good Morning" to me and says my name. It really feels good. I always say "Good Morning" back. Yes, people can be nice in New York City.

...I am equally grateful that the same security guard comments that my son - A - "is such a gentleman" whenever A visits.

...I am grateful to meet the people who I get to meet. A few days ago I saw a familiar name on one of the press releases I issued. It was the executive producer for the most-nominated musical. He helped the Campaign for The Rock Club. So I sent an email. "Hey, congrats on your 11 nominations." It felt good to do that.

...I am grateful that even though A got sick last week and I worried myself to bits about his health, it put the whole BTBSA/hs-early college thing in perspective for me.

...I am grateful that Napoleon sleep "runs" and barks in his sleep. And does it while sleeping next to me in bed. Because it reminds me that I am not the only freak who has nightmares like that.

...I am grateful that people think that I lie when I give them my real age.

...I am grateful to be able to sing the Pistols' "God Save the Queen" with A. Because he taught himself all the tabs on his electric Fender Stratocaster.

...I am grateful to have had the homeschooling experience with A.

...and to have shared it with you. Because some of you peeps be the coolest and loyal-est bloggy readers. I am sad that this homeschooling saga will end soon.

as luck would have it...

2007-05-18T07:34:00.000-04:00

A has been taking the subway nearly every day to get to his homeschool co-op classes and activities for a while now. Years.

Then I opened this email from my inbox this morning, written yesterday. It was from another homeschooling mum:

"One of the guys in [insert name of homeschool group] Thespians was arrested today because the cops thought he was too old to have a student metrocard and since he didn't have student ID, things got complicated. He's 18, and could easily pass for a college student, so I understand the initial mistake. But I immediately thought of your tall A. If you have anything from the Homeschooling Coordinator that says he's a homeschooler or maybe the letter that came with the metrocard, he should carry it with him at all times. At the very least, I'd suggest keeping the Homeschooling Coordinator's phone number on his cell. They actually handcuffed this kid, took him to the precinct and put him in a cell with three other people. Needless to say, he missed rehearsal."

I haven't blogged in a bit.

2007-05-14T22:12:00.000-04:00

I am contemplating leaving my job.

You knew this was coming, right?

It dawned on me months ago that Big Broadcast Network hired me cheap. The amount of work I do is insane, and I do it on a secretarial salary (by NYC standards). I oversee people. I oversee a website. I oversee publicists' grammatical errors. I got into a public office catfight once -- on the receiving end of the claws. I had to do the damage control on a certain radio personality when he got fired. My boss' boss publicly insulted me and used the F--- word on me. And have I mentioned that a security team checks my mail every day by opening it? All my mail gets searched. For bombs, people.

And oh yeah, I got grandfathered OUT of the company pension.

I have been searching the monster boards, CondeNet, Job Recommendations.com, mediabistro, and other sites to see what else I can get, for better pay. And maybe no dubious bomb-bearing mail.

A, on the other hand, my darling teenage boy, has had flu for over a week. He has been pushing himself to get to class and his job while sick -- when I have insisted that he shouldn't. I wish I had his wherewithal.

Regarding A's outer monologues on his school decision, this weekend was, "I am going to school here in NYC. Because I need to study with [insert name of Buddhist monk who defected from China] here."

My mother called today to confirm, "He's going to BTBSA, right?"

Lord help me.

And I have been slow to turn in my Third Quarterly to the Homeschooling Coordinator. What on earth is the rush? Summer isn't here, yet.

I hope all the readers have been well. I have developed a liking for YouTube videos of Rachel Brice (the tribal dancer) and the exclusive Internet community called aSmallWorld. Harvey Weinstein and Paris Hilton are members. So is a friend of mine in France. She doesn't have the rights to invite me yet. Dommage.

Ah, yes, you knew I'd be full of contradictions.

And the school is...

2007-05-07T17:15:00.001-04:00

not yet decided on.

: )

playwriting stories.

2007-04-10T23:12:00.000-04:00

A finished his playwriting assignment this morning. It was a rough draft.

"That means it doesn't need to be finished, mom."

***

About two weeks ago, the playwriting students saw a Stephen Sondheim play. Stephen Sondheim founded the teen playwriting group. So it was no big deal that each student had his address and wrote him "thank you" letters for comping tickets to the play.

Tonight, one student received a reply from Mr. Sondheim.

"Because she asked him to reply," said my A.
"Erm...did you ask him to reply?" I asked.
"No. Why would I do that?"
"No reason. Just wondering. What did the Sondheim letter look like?"
"It was in courier font. Like it was written in a typewriter, in neat little blocks. He answered a question about the new Sweeney Todd."
"Wow."
"Yeah. And then all my classmates said they were now going to revise their letters and ask him a question, too."

***

So...did you turn in your rough draft?
Yep. And you know what?
What?
There was this student who didn't turn in his. So our professor asked where it was. The student said, "it's printing."
Oh yeah? (me, suspicious of this student's real motives)
Yeah. Then midway through the class, our professor asked for it again. And the dude said, "It's printing."
OK.
Then finally, when our pizza arrived and everybody was ready to leave, he said it wasn't ready yet. It was "still printing."
Uh-huh.
Guess what?
What?
When the printer finally finished printing, his play was about a foot thick. [A demonstrates the width with his hands] Our professor freaked and asked him to have mercy on the poor trees that gave up their lives to be his rough draft.

He got accepted. And then I cried. (but not for the reasons you think...)

2007-04-10T13:50:00.000-04:00

I had a conversation with a homeschooling mom 5 minutes ago. Her son, a high school-aged kid, applied to and was accepted to a competitive public high school.

To motivate him to take exams and do school interviews, she'd tell her son, "Okay, let's get up and out of bed and prepare for another exercise in futility." And that's how they approached it. No big deal. An exercise "in futility."

And then, he got accepted to a really great Big City school.

"I saw the acceptance letter. He got accepted. The hard work paid off. And then I cried."

Tears of happiness? Joy? Maybe. But for a homeschooling mother, acceptance to an institutional school marks the beginning of an end. We relinquish our power over our child to others. And that feels so...weird. Sad. Tear-inducing sad.

But, happily, that student is doing great as a regular Big City institutional school student. I know that that homeschooling mom gave him a great foundation.

why I posted the entire article below...

2007-04-09T08:19:00.000-04:00

Because providing a link would lead you to a page asking if you already subscribe to the online edition.

I recall one mother at PPSI who told me her son "is a fencer." I asked what weapon he used. She didn't know. When I was finally introduced to her son, he told me, "OH, I haven't fenced in over a year!"

I have a feeling, however, that "fencer" just may make it on his college application.

Everything is not necessarily everything.

2007-04-05T13:07:00.000-04:00

While we were at BTBSA, I eavesdropped on conversations among parents and students. Many parents and students were also going to revisit -- or had already revisited -- BTBSB and Big Time Boarding School in New Hampshire that Feeds to Harvard (BTBSRed) and Sounds Like "Frirrips Tess Dexter", as well as Totally Left Field Boarding School (which apparently has us "on hold") and other Big Time schools. These schools are among the "Top 10" residential schools in the United States.

One studious-looking girl with spectacles balanced on her nose, said, "Yeah, I'm also doing revisits at BTBSB, BTBSRed, and Totally Left Field BS. This school is nice, I guess. But I will have to go with my *gut* won't I?"

OK, people. LaMai has said this before. This chickadee was not about her "gut" or where she really wanted to go. She wanted the Top 10. And she got the Top 10.

The things that attracted us to BTBSA were its sports teams, the fact that student bands (jazz, rock, blues, etc.) are common on campus, its affinity for the arts, and its dedication to the sciences -- the things that A is passionate about. It's the only residential secondary school that includes a concentration in the arts. There is absolutely no way we would have applied to BTBSB, which does not have an arts concentration program, nor a photography program, nor a sport in which A was already involved.

In other words, we have been looking at schools in which A's already-existing talents (or things that give A his "sense of self") could be nurtured.

So far, A's acceptances have come from the schools which fit his "type" best, and that includes Public High School/Early College, which is a smaller school than Stuy.

BTBSRed is in New Hampshire. Sorry, but my selfishness would warrant A coming home on weekends as often as possible.

There are lots of great schools out there. I just can't stand when kids -- and parents -- apply to EVERYTHING and are clueless about what might be a good fit. Unless they're just after labels.

But then -- that's what distinguishes a homeschooled student from everybody else.

LaMai and A's Excellent Adventure (in New England)

2007-04-04T08:06:00.000-04:00

So we were picked up by a navy blue Volvo at the destination train station. Our driver was a totally sweet jock-type who likes Dave Matthews, and is on the admissions committee and doubles-up duty as an ice hockey coach.

The blue Volvo and sweet jock-type dropped us off at our hotel. In the morning, the hotel had a nasty alarm go off before 6:00 AM that lasted 10 minutes. It was ear-deafening. The hotel staff compensated with free breakfast.

The same morning, we were picked up and taken to The BTBSA Lodge. The Lodge is actually quite beautiful. Smiles everywhere. Was our stay in the hotel satisfactory? Yes, thank you, except for the alarm. "Oh, we heard about that. You did manage to wake up on time though, eh?" Smile. Breakfast and coffee and juice were offered. Faculty came up and spoke to A like clockwork. "Oh, I hear you row." "Oh, I hear you studied at PPSI in Boston." "Oh, you do photography, right?" "You would be coming in as a 10th grader, correct? You'll have no problem." These people sure do their homework. I was impressed.

We walked to the Dining Hall for some a capella and more coffee. I guess the two go hand-in-hand. There was a School Fair with school clubs prominently featured. We spoke to the students with Model UN, then the school athletic paper, as well as a couple of other clubs.

Next was the school auditorium, which was about 100 acres away. Just kidding. It was a 10-minute walk.

I spoke to families from Spain, Saudi Arabia, South Korea, and New Jersey. A single parent, I was definitely a minority. But I felt no less welcome.

In the auditorium, there were student performances (an African-American step dance - I LOVE step dancing), video, and school fight song. Students went off to classes. Parents walked to the science building.

Coffee was offered again, with nibblies. Parents stayed to attend more informationals -- panels titled "Arts and Athletics" and "Academic Planning and College Counseling" and "Math and Sciences." There was one more. I forgot what that was. The science building was nicer than my undergraduate college's.

Lunch.

I was tired. It was only 1:30 PM.

Long-short, there was a lot of coffee, a lot of food, more student performances, a lot of Botox, fake suntannng, Tod's shoes, and a BTBSA t-shirt giveaway. But somehow I didn't feel displaced. I was asked if I was faculty -- more than once.

"You're not a parent...are YOU?"
"Yes I am."
"Get out."
"It's true. I am XX years old."
"Wow."

Just kidding. Nobody said "Get out" this time, but I did mention that to the admissions staff, and laughed about how I thought that was going to be a bad admissions sign.

More importantly: A loved his re-visit to BTBSA.

Finally, after our Very Last Punch Bowl and cookies and Question and Answer session, we were shuttled to the train station in the BTBSA vehicle (which I will mention, is not very green) and we fell asleep on the train ride home.

Represent.

2007-04-02T14:41:00.000-04:00

Yes, we're off. To represent homeschooled students everywhere to an elite boarding school in New England.

That's right. We're representin', yo.

[Has anyone here seen Mean Girls? Is there a prep school equivalent? I hope not]

catch-up.

2007-03-31T09:22:00.000-04:00

Notables of the week:

A slipped off the boathouse dock and fell into the Harlem River.

But was rescued by his crewmates, who loaned him clothing and shoes in which to go home.

A's Physics tutor forgot about A's lesson. Leaving A with three hours to kill in Chelsea before heading out to Crew.

During those three hours, A discovered that the New York Public Library with the lions in front is a library unlike any other. Because you cannot check out books from there.

A received a big envelope from the folks at the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. It was an award for his photography.

I received a J R-M poster at my office from my counterparts at that cable network who produce the show about Henry-the-something.

BTBSA called me at my office to confirm our spring visit next week. I told BTBSA, "Yes, we're leaving at 5:00 AM to the train to hopefully make it to your school by 7:43AM" upon which they took pity on us and booked a room at a Courtyard Marriott for the night before. BTBSA is picking up the bill.

Napoleon found a new neighbor across our courtyard window. It is feline.

He hasn't stopped barking since his discovery, which was at 8:34 AM this morning. Apparently, this has also unleashed other canine frustrations, as he has since proceeded to hump my bedpillow.

Life is good.

Another reason not to trust Wikipedia...

2007-03-24T13:12:00.000-04:00

For the "Campus and Facilities" section under BTBSB's entry, one unhappy BTBSB student seems to have replaced the actual endowment number with this:

"Campus and facilities

The school is located in a rural setting in 810 acres (3.3 km²) of woodland near two lakes. BTBSB also has an endowment of over 12 cents. For the school is too poor to heat students rooms and they often freeze to death."

I don't know how long that entry will be there, but if you would like to see it for yourself, the real name of BTBSB sounds like "Roth Miss." To be fair, BTBSB's endowment is actually over $300 million, and puts school endowments like Dalton's to shame.

Very interesting....

2007-03-24T13:03:00.000-04:00

There is a page on BTBSA's website that I COMPLETELY overlooked. How could I? It is dedicated to the homeschooled applicant, and says this:

"BTBSA welcomes applicants from a variety of educational backgrounds, including those who have been schooled at home. Home-schooled students who come to BTBSA have excelled in their academic work, have captained our athletic teams, have performed on stage and in the recording studio with our vocal and instrumental ensembles, and have been elected to leadership positions in student government and student clubs and organizations. Previously home-schooled students have graduated from BTBSA with the highest academic standing and have gained admittance to some of the most selective colleges and universities.

When considering the application of a home-schooled student, BTBSA's admission officers are likely to focus on a number of questions about the applicant’s background, including:

When did the home-schooling begin?
What were the reasons for home-schooling (e.g., personal/religious beliefs, issues of school fit, etc.)?
Are siblings also being home-schooled with the applicant?
Was there a particular program or teaching/learning style utilized?
How many subjects were covered, particularly with regard to such basics as math, English, science, history, and language?
What texts were used?
What other resources were used?
How was progress evaluated? How often? By whom? What grades were given?
Are syllabuses, grade, and evaluation reports or summaries available?
While we do not require home-schooled applicants to provide more information than those with a more traditional educational background, it is helpful for these students to keep the above questions in mind as they go through the application process."

I have to laugh. Did BTBSA actually say "syllabuses"?!!! Okay, I'll let it go. If I accidentally left the real name of the school in there, kindly let me know. I won't worry too much, though. BTBSA has awesome campus security -- if A chooses to go there.

Acceptance!

2007-03-22T14:46:00.000-04:00

To public high school/early college.

Another great school, in another great neighborhood. You can find our favorite brunch place there.

LaMai recommends

2007-03-21T19:31:00.000-04:00

This playwriting group has sent A to see:

Wicked

Dying City

The Color Purple

Gutenberg! The Musical!

Prelude to a Kiss

Company

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

A Spanish Play

...and we're still in March! The semester isn't done yet! If you want your kid to bring home more Playbills than your adult friends have got littered around, and have an actual self-written play to show for, click on the link.

Thank you. This has been a public (yet not so public) homeschooling announcement.

March 22nd

2007-03-21T17:11:00.000-04:00

Is the day that we're *supposed* to find out if A got in to Public High School/Early College. He also applied to another competitive public high school that should answer tomorrow.

In the meantime, everyone and his brother has told A that he should go to BTBSA. I'm not sure if it's really because they want the t-shirt, or if they secretly dream of being emancipated from their parents and wish to head off to boarding school, too.

And oh yeah. There is that homeschooling parent with whom I spoke last night and said, "Well, it makes sense that A go to BTBSA. I mean, you were basically giving him a prep school education. Just not in a prep school. Per se."

Over the past two days, I have received several phone calls on my voicemail from BTBSA people:

In a lilting Caribbean accent...

"Hello. This is Amelia. I am a BTBSA parent, welcoming you to our community. If you have any questions about BTBSA, please do not hesitate to call me."

Then -- in another lilting Caribbean accent...

"Hello. This is Colin. I am Amelia's husband, trying to reach you. I guess we have your work number. Let me know if there is anything I can tell you about BTBSA. OK. Talk to you soon."

Then --

"Hello, this message is for A. This is Mr. Mitchell, the Financial Aid Dude at BTBSA. Just wanted to congratulate you on your Math and Science scholarship. If you have any questions about the scholarship, give me a ring, and we can start to discuss your research and when the scholarship takes effect. Look forward to meeting you during our Spring Visits."

I called the house number for Colin and Amelia. I got Colin.

Me: Hi. You live in New York?
Colin: Yes. We live in Brooklyn.
Me: Oh, that's great. and judging from your accents you are both from--
Colin: Barbados.
Me: [Yay] Oh that's lovely. I'm so glad. We're actually from a sunny place, too. We're from Miami, originally. We miss our tropical culture!
Colin: Well, you have a lot of kids from a lot of interesting places at BTBSA. My son had a roommate from Hong Kong, and he just got back from a semester in Spain. Do you know that your son can study abroad during term if he wants to?

I like the BTBSA people already.

...and how I resolved the science application dilemma.

2007-03-20T14:11:00.000-04:00

I called up Stuyvesant High School, that specialized high school for math and science brainiacs.

Me: "Hi do you happen to have an ILCC application?"
Stuyvesant lady: Sure. But we're down to our last 20. When can you come over?

spin

2007-03-20T13:24:00.000-04:00

Dear Homeschooling Coordinator:

Ivy League Campus in the City is offering a science course for high school students. There is a caveat: ILCC will not forward their applications directly to homeschoolers. ILCC will only forward applications to schools.

Can you obtain the application from the Central High School Paperwork Center so that I may pick it up?

Thanks in advance for any help you can provide...

LaMai

Dear LaMai,

I have no idea. Can you help me find out if I can get it from the Central High School Paperwork Center? I don't know what to ask.

Dear Homeschooling Coordinator,

Sure. I'll get back to you when I get an answer.

***

Say what?

G-bomb.

2007-03-18T21:35:00.000-04:00

A is grounded.

I don't wish to discuss the "why" here - it is humiliating enough for him just that he is. It was onerous for me to become the mean parent -- unfortunately, I had to, and in front of other people, while I confronted A with the issue.

Parenting is not always easy. But we try to do what is best for our kids.

A is in his teen years. We'll see how we fare.

It's cool. But then it gets weird.

2007-03-16T10:55:00.000-04:00

A showed me this. John Lennon. Eric Clapton. Keith Richards. Mitch Mitchell. Together. On one stage.

Then Yoko Ono shows up.

Musicians who did their time at boarding schools, elite schools, and other true myths...

2007-03-14T07:00:00.000-04:00

Mick Jagger went to the Dartford Grammar School in Kent, England. Then Mick went to the London School of Economics. The Dartford school has since opened "The Mick Jagger Centre" which hosts "Jazz Folk Roots Guitar Rock" performances. The Damned are playing there this Friday.

Joe Strummer was a boarding student at the City of London Freeman's School in Surrey. This was several years after his birth in Ankara, Turkey to his British diplomat dad, who was born in India.

Julian Casablancas (of The Strokes) went to Le Rosey, in Switzerland. It is rumored he met at least one other bandmate at LeRosey, but he probably didn't get the gigs until he became a student at The Dwight School (a.k.a. The Paris Hilton School) in New York City.

Dido, born Florian Cloud de Bounevialle Armstrong, went to the Westminster School.

James Taylor was a student at the Milton Academy.

Brian May, guitarist of the band Queen, went to the Hampton School.

Art Garfunkel has a BA and Master's from Columbia University.

Peter Yarrow of Peter Paul and Mary went to Cornell.

Ditto Huey Lewis of Huey Lewis and the News.

Ditto Harry Chapin.

Rufus Wainwright went to McGill.

Kris Kristofferson was a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford.

Bonnie Raitt attended Harvard.

Joan Baez went to BU, but her dad was a Physics professor at MIT.

Where am I going with this?

sometimes, people just suck.

2007-03-13T20:38:00.000-04:00

There is a publicist (who I will call "Fireball") at Big Broadcast Network who, I have had the feeling for some time now, does not like me. You know the type? I say "Hi." She looks down at the floor, says nothing. I say "Hi" the next day, she looks at the floor, says nothing.

Today I gave a task to one of our interns, who I will call Sabrina. It was a gamble on my part: it was a bigger task than the normal send-the-intern-to-the-copying-machine-type job. Sabrina could not do the task today and got frustrated easily. And BIG ALSO is that Sabrina and I have been fraternizing. It turns out that Sabrina is a single mother, going through the same type of divorce situation that I did, and we have gone out for drinks at least once to shoot the proverbial potty.

Tonight, Sabrina spoke to Fireball about me and the work I gave to Sabrina-- apparently negatively enough, that Fireball took it upon herself to talk to me -- in Alto Voce -- from my doorway. Fireball was so loud that the secretary around the corner heard.

Fireball: I DO NOT LIKE THE WORK YOU HAVE GIVEN THAT INTERN. AND WHY HAVE YOU BEEN YELLING AT HER?

Me: Huh? Yelling? I don't yell at anyone.

Fireball: WELL, HER PERCEPTION IS THAT YOU HAVE BEEN YELLING AT HER.

Me: Maybe I capped something on instant messenger to her -- that was necessary. I had to highlight a protocol to her. And I told her why I capped the text.

[And why do I feel compelled to tell this a 25-year-old publicist who can't step into my office?]

The work I gave Sabrina involved filling in data into five boxes on an Excel sheet. The problem is, we didn't have all the data today. I was swamped and could not help Sabrina to the best of my ability. My co-worker was out, I had to cover for her, as well as my own duties, and I short-changed Sabrina with my time. BUT at the end of her workday, she left on good terms with me and I told her to give her baby a kiss for me.

Unfortunately, and this is where it gets very, very bad -- I confided my feelings about a certain co-worker on the West Coast ("Totally Tactless Co-Worker who Cc's EVERYBODY and Their Boss in Her Emails" ) with Sabrina. In her frustration with me, Sabrina spoke to Totally Tactless directly -- and told Totally Tactless how I feel about her.

Tonight was very messy. I had to clean up with Totally Tactless, as well as talk to Fireball's boss about the way Fireball handled her communication with me.

Your thoughts? I am feeling rather sucky tonight.