Mom, read this about Ansel Adams...

So A received his camera this week, and got to work straightaway taking photographs. It's nice to watch a child's transition in visual acuity when he suddenly says, "Wow, that would make a good photograph."

And then, The Photographers and their bodies of work. Henri Cartier-Bresson. Ansel Adams. Annie Leibovitz. Doisneau. Avedon. And on. And on. After some time on the computer, A blurted out, "Ansel Adams left school!"

According to Wikipedia: "Adams disliked the uniformity of the education system and left school in 1915 to educate himself. He originally trained himself as a pianist, but Yosemite and the camera diverted his interest toward photography. He later met his future wife, Virginia Best, in Yosemite. She was known to be particularly camera shy. Adams long alternated between a career as a concert pianist and one as a photographer."

Ah. Well that explains a lot, doesn't it?

Tell us how fabu we are

The Knitting Olympics, a la Booze and Yarn, presented by Pink of Perfection.

You love us. Just admit it.

note: I'm not in it. And no, I don't have tattoos, nor do I have a nose ring. It's just a diverse group of gals.

cuatro sevillanas de baile

When I was a little girl, back home in Los Angeles, I used to dance with red castanets in a little flamenco dress made for a 4-year-old girl. I would stomp and lip-sync to Marisol and Lola Flores all day long, particularly her Cuatro Sevillanas de Baile. I would sing along about the snoring husband, the boyfriend who has a girlfriend prettier than me, the lover who I killed with nine puñaladas to the throat, and the midget husband who couldn't climb onto the bed to be with his wife. I doubt my mother really bothered with supervising the content of the lyrics. This was, of course, after my mother took me to Spain, to gypsy country, where we spent too many nights in flamenco venues, drinking sangria (me water or soda), and eating those olives out of the little white ceramic dishes, where the occasional dancer would smile because there was a (gasp!) kindergartner in a flamenco bar. It was also then that I put a gypsy curse on my poor grandmother: "May the blacks of your eyes never see again!" My grandmother, however, was much immune to the curse of a four-year-old obstinate child. Today she is very much alive and can see very well, thank you, and my mother blames that episode on the fact that we were in Andalucia, land of the gypsies and of all things mysterious.

Anyway, I thought the Cuatro Sevillanas today would be appropriate to: turn down a lunch appointment with one of the most prominent artists in New York due to the inclimate weather, bid on a pair of shoes that I cannot afford on eBay, accept the sofa that Flymeth Kautrau sat on (among other such celebrity butts, and yes, I have been offered a butt list) in a barter exchange with my client instead of pay, and to push my son out the door to try out for the rowing team (me waiving a fist and saying "Represent Denmark!" "Represent Cuba!" and other such nonsense).

Flamenco songs are about life. The ridiculousness of it, and the beauty of it. May everyone have a flamenco song appropriate for her own situation.

******
for Melissa: if you like, I can drop you off some queso de Oaxaca.

What we did today (Okay?)

This morning:

Me: How do your legs feel?
A: Terrible. I can't go to practice.
Me: Okay, let's get started on our Shakespeare.
A: No, I'm going to read my book first.
Me: Okay.

A reads for one hour. I blog, write, walk the dog, cook, write some more, get phone calls, make phone calls, etc., etc.

A begins to play Nirvana on the guitar, Jimi Hendrix, stuff that I hear 100X/day.

Me: How do your legs feel?
A: Terrible. I can't go to practice.
Me: Okay, let's do our Shakespeare.
A: Hmph.
Me: Excuse?
A: HMPH.

We do our Shakespeare.

Me: How do your legs feel?
A: Terrible. I can't go to practice.
Me: Okay, let's work on our Art.
A: DO WE HAVE TO?
Me: Yes.
A: HMPH.

A turns out a beautiful sketch.

Me: How do your legs feel?
A: Terrible. I can't go to practice.
Me: Okay, let's continue with our History.
A: Huh?
Me: Our History. Since we've finished the chapter, please answer the critical thinking and comprehension questions.
A: HMPH.

A spends around 30-45 minutes thoughtfully working on this task. And finishes.
We break for lunch.

Afternoon:

Me: Okay, let's have some fun.
A: ?
Me: Let's do our Math now.
A: I don't feel like it.
Me: I don't care.

I begin to explain today's lesson. I speak in monotone. I read directly off the page. Oh, yes, this lesson is GOING TO BE A LONG ONE.

A: Mom, look, I get it, okay?
Me: Okay. Would you like to read the lesson on your own?
A: DUH!!!

A finishes Math lesson in 30 minutes. It really is too easy for him.
And: He gets ready for rowing practice. And leaves to take the train to the boathouse.

I work, write e-mails, schmooze with friends, stress out about minor things, walk the dog some more, do the groceries.

A walks in.

Me: How was practice?
A: Good. I'm exhausted.

I serve dinner.

A plays Ravi Shankar music that he has downloaded on LimeWire. Lights incense.

END SCENE.

Note to self: Sometimes prodding is okay.

"vous n’êtes pas maîtresse de votre destin."

Excuse me?

I am reading this in French Vogue. The astrology page.

"vous n’êtes pas maîtresse de votre destin." I am not the master of my destiny. Hmmmmm....

A isn't feeling up to going to the boathouse for rowing practice today. This is the last week of required practice before tryouts, and he exerted himself a little too much last Friday. He has been limping around the apartment all weekend long. He took hot baths and I massaged him to give him some relief from the soreness. I hope he's ready for practice today. But I will not push him if he isn't.

He is reading Kissing the Rain, and informed me that he will be reading that book until he is ready for his English lesson (a sonnet to write, and Taming of the Shrew to read) today. I guess one would call that self-directed learning. Or something. I am not complaining. I've got writing to do.

We are eager to see Capote with other homeschoolers this week. I just love Philip Seymour Hoffman's work.

After a phone conversation this weekend with my grandmother, A's great-grandmother, she has asked us to rethink the dogwalking-for-dollars idea. "Isn't that dangerous? Or can it be? What if another dog attacks the dog he is walking?" She is not normally a litigious-minded person. Most teen jobs are given to 14-year-olds, and A has yet another year to go. We are considering teaming up for knitting duty and selling our products on the street or online. Until he is able to exhibit his photographic work in galleries and request large sums of money for the work.

My latest fave blog (in case you didn't already know) is The Sartorialist. I have always appreciated New York style; this photographer has a good eye, and is not too shy to approach the famous folk.

"Because it has a smell"

Since Athena New York (Not Gone Fishing) is on hiatus until my web designer finishes my new formatting there, I will say this here: I love the refreshingly honest French Vogue Editor-In-Chief Carine Roitfeld. Besides that she reminds me of Catherine, our French tutor who was snagged by the Lycée Français (I speet on zehr schooolah), I just like her.

Fave quotes:
“They have to sell bags, bags, bags, bags, bags, bags. I hate handbags.”
“Botox? No. I don’t like Botox. It makes a very strange forehead.”
On why she doesn’t wear fur these days: “Because it has a smell.”

More Carine, and vodka to make her more beautiful here.

for Poppins

Originally posted 1.23.06, but modified here, on Poppins' invitation...

Four jobs you have had in your life:
Airline reservationist (gag me! but I got to fly for free)
Fish importer for gelatin (the fish came from Lake Victoria when it contained victims of the Hutu/Tutsi conflict in Rwanda)
Americorps reading tutor to inner-city kids (where all the dads were away "at college")
"Celebrity Justice" the t.v. show, content writer

Four movies you could watch over and over:
The Wizard of Oz
Love, Actually
Amelie
Ocean's 11

Four places you have lived:
Los Angeles
Miami
London (Belsize Park)
Paris (18eme arrondissement; the apt. was very small)

Four t.v. shows you love to watch:
Extreme Makeover, Home Edition
Trading Spaces
60 Minutes
Anderson Cooper 360°

Four places you have been on vacation:
Italy
Switzerland
The Middle East
U.S.S.R. in August 1991 (don't ask)

Four websites you visit daily:
Gothamist
CNN.com
NYTimes
Google

Four of your favorite foods:
blue corn quesadillas!!!!!
Aloo Gobi with parathas
All my grandmother's Cuban cooking
feta/shallot quiches that I make at home

Four places you'd rather be right now:
Sharing A's train ride home
Hanging out on the Bowery
At the movies
On MySpace.com (apparently, I am a teen again)

A's new book

A is reading this book this week.

And we finally won an eBay bid for the camera he wanted. That is because we discovered eSnipe. How could we not know about eSnipe? I guess we just don't e-shop that much.

A is also wants some money for a new guitar. I told him what any responsible parent would say: Get a job. So, yesterday, he asked the owner of the guitar shop where he takes lessons if the shop could use some help. No luck there. I asked CB's if they could use a responsible teenager to run errands. He's how old? No luck there, either. So we came up with the idea of dogwalking services. A is making a flyer.

LaMai gets personal.

I've been feeling funky this week. Blah on Monday. Blah on Tuesday. Blah yesterday. Then my monthly friend paid a visit. Who was that person who told me that pains would go away once I had experienced childbirth? Who? Who? Who? I want my money back. Because today, I could not get up. Nothing worked. Today, of all days, when I had my client meeting. The client, whose own client roster include folks with names that sound like Flymeth Kaltrau, Plemmy Krabetz, Lindseed Lowhann, and Mean Day.

Fast forward: Client meeting turned out okay. My belly still aches, though.

A is serenading me on the guitar. I will feel better.

back.

I apologize for that bit of a blogging hiatus - I've been helping a couple of friends with publicity for their events, and I have a potential client meeting today over which I have been stressing.

A's phone attempts to contact the Harlem Hellfighter went like this:

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"There's no answer."

We tried again. And again. On different days. Yes, we're stalkers. Of the historical kind.

A is currently trying to figure out who might know this guy, or any other veterans who might possibly be living, who were once soldiers of the 369th Infantry.
I'll keep everyone posted on A's progress with that.

In other news, A got some scholarship bucks for summer with Outward Bound. Summer camp (or summer courses) should not be out of reach for anyone, regardless of their financial situation. There is always a scholarship somewhere, if not directly with the camp, try another scholarship database; another alternative for camp dollars is fundraising, the a skill that kids are never too young to learn.

A is still training for rowing tryouts.

He also wrote a poem that I'd like to share with the bloggy audience here, but he won't allow me to. So there.

And, he finished his wool hat last night. He did a rib stitch on straight needles and sewed up the sides. The folks at Booze and Yarn were very impressed with the meticulousness of his stitches. He is a "tight" knitter.

I had no idea that Patti Smith did the original song entitled "Because the Night." I thought it was 10,000 Maniacs. I am a retard.

I got a funny closing message in an e-mail from the coordinator at the Harvard program: it read: "God Save CBGBs!!!"

I am otherwise happy to know that our President revealed that there's "No need to worry about port security."

No, I wasn't tripping when I talked about the tree

I really do include things in the little photo icon thingys. Sometimes. If you click on the photo, you might find something there. Sometimes they coincide with the picture, sometimes not.

This past week, A took the subway, alone, to the boathouse for rowing practice.
He trained. He ran across a bridge. He worked out on the erg. He loved it.

This week, we have been studying more about The Great War (WWI) [note: part of my "gimmick" to teaching history is what I found worked well when I was a student. It was a trick employed by an educator or two at my former British school, and a certain history professor at university: I study the material very, very thoroughly, then I tell it, as though it were a campfire story (As if I had been there, or as though I were talking about my friends; and yes, I could probably even tell you the favorite foods of the characters in question].

The surprise of WWI is that we, the United States, took the side of the guys who might be considered politically incorrect today (that is open for debate, of course, but we basically took the side of the guys who supported the Serbian terrorists). And when I gave the backdrop to General Pershing, A was totally, I mean, completely and enthrallingly, taken with the story of Francisco "Pancho" Villa. In every war, on either side, there is a national hero, I began. I admit that the Pancho Villa story is a very, very good action drama. "But why isn't Pancho Villa mentioned so much in school history books? He actually invaded our country. And there's hardly any record of him anywhere." I could not give A a good answer.

Anyway, as an educator, I decided to do my African-American History duty in our WWI studies. I'd like you to read about and write up a presentation about the Harlem Hellfighters. A did some research. "Wait. This says that these guys 'suffered heavy losses' and fought the longest, 'more than any unit in combat.' Did they die first? Before everybody else?" It's possible, I said. "And wait. They were originally NATIONAL GUARD?" That's possible, too, I said. A got so into it, he actually started looking up the names of the possibly living members of that infantry. "Can I call this guy?" he asked me when he found a name listed in the phone directory. Sure. But you have to be prepared with what you might want to say. Are you writing an article? An essay? What? And remember, he will be VERY VERY OLD.

After some thought, A rang up the number.
(S&*t, I thought, he's just like me)
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
No answer.
Give it some time, I said. If he's still alive, he's incredibly old, with old legs. He can't just run to the phone.
"Okay," said A. "I am a little nervous."
It's exciting, isn't it?
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

..................to be continued................

Ah, yes...

Nothing to lift the spirits like a dose of the Gypsy Kings. I remember when they first visited the States, they kept hitting all the French cultural centers here. Why? Because they're not from Spain. They're French, from the petite ville of Arles. But that's okay. I consider myself a Cuban Viking and I'm American. Go figure.

AND: We got caught up with Math. Baila Baila Baila Baila Baila Baila Baila Me!!!!!!

Woah!

A little rumor is out. Yarnharlot's Olympic Knitting idea made it into the current issue of Time Magazine? Is it true? Has anyone purchased a copy?

In other news, today, A went to a rowing tryout on the Harlem River. Please dear bloggy reader, send him your good vibes. He really wants this one. And I am really rooting for him. And another (NYCHEA) homeschooler also rows with the same rowing club.

Afterwards, we hit the Knitting Olympics on the Bowery. I am really glad that I came up with the charity portion of Team Booze and Yarn's participation. A is making his first-ever hat. After knitting we usually go to the Pommes Frites place on 2nd Ave in the East Village. Just in case you think you've spotted me there at an ungodly hour, with needles sticking out of a yarn bag. Yep, it was me.

In other other news, before we even hit knitting, we had a bite at a French-style cafe on Bleecker. Where we had this bizarre exchange:

Me: Taste my soup before I delve in.
A: Mmmm.
Me: Do you like it?
A: It's potato.
Me: [tasting it] Nope, it's not.
A: It's potato.
Me: Nope. It's right on the menu. And potato isn't on the menu. It's cauliflower and goat cheese.
A: Nuh-uh. It's potato. With some alchemy done to it.
Me: Heh, heh. Yes, once upon a time, cauliflower and goat cheese were potatoes.
A: They were. Everything was the potato. Until an alchemist changed everything. Now we have cauliflower and goat cheese.
Me: From France.
A: Yes.
Me: That taste like potato.
A: It's so deep.
Me: You should wear a beret when you say that.

Meet My Teachers: Mom and Dad

This article in Business Week.

Note: Readers CAN COMMENT on the article right on the website!

You can run, but you can't hide.

And I thank Hornblower for letting me know that.

Yesterday, or the day before, I posted an entry on this blog. It was my pity party. Things in my life are changing, and I have not openly admitted a bit of news to some of the real-life friends of mine who frequent this board. So I took the entry down. That, and I didn't like sounding needy.

I am not a religious person, but that does not prevent me from feeling connected to the bloggers who occasionally drop a line, to ask me a question, to thank me for some bit of information that I've been able to provide, or who lead a full-fledged Pity Party Production Live! From Somewhere in North America! V.1! complete with an mp3 download for me to listen to.

Why do we feel blue or let-down? I sometimes think it is Zeitgeist. Humanity just heaving a humongous sigh, to which we are not immune. One of my friends who took me out to a Mexican dinner on the night of my birthday, at the dinner, talked to me about his plans in life, about finding this ridiculous-looking truck in Mexico, and wanting to do something artistically with it (if you've been reading this blog, you probably know who I am referencing). This man has had an enormous amount of loss in his life. Loss of friends in deeply-rooted friendships, suddenly, and within the space of about a year from each other. So, what are you going to put on the truck? I asked him. A prayer, he replied. I paused. And cried. And he cried.

My friend Kaeshi is a lovely oriental dancer from Brunei who did a multimedia meditation for Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk who was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize (click on "Play" to view - I know it's on beliefnet, but I promise it's not offensive). Kaeshi once explained to me, while we stood in a Barnes & Noble in Union Square, between the Chess and Yoga, in her exquisite way, about three times, a rather simple concept - about being the tree - that was somehow more complex than I perceived. Being the tree.

Sigh.

Finally, since quantum physics might have an explanation for some of this nonsense, there is something, maybe, on the tree icon here. I don't know. Maybe you do. Things are happening in such weird sequences in my life that I thought I would include it.

I thank Hornblower for the Glenlivet which has assisted this enlightened state of consciousness.

"I want to be like Leonardo da Vinci"

The quote of the week, and that declaration by A really lifted my spirits. I feel like such a slacker at times. But I know in my heart that this is what a really good education is about. If only we could get those Metrocards that the NYC Board of Education is finally giving to homeschoolers.

I've been doing a LOT of work with A on his arts curriculum. We use Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain for fine art. The curriculum is very similar to the fine art fundamentals taught to art students in Europe. I do not recall anyone calling it "right-brained drawing" but I guess that (gimmicky) title works well our country. A's progress has been unbelievable with this particular curriculum. So, it is the one program that I highly recommend to anyone - child (from maybe age 10 or up) or adult learner.

A for the first time has asked me for something really seriously and regularly as of last week: an SLR camera. We've been checking out eBay for a certain used model Nikon. I hope we wind up the winning bidders. He returns to the darkroom with our photographer friend once he has some images to develop. No digital for us. We're so old school.

Our Algebra is coming along a little more slowly than I would have liked. We have 110-plus lessons, and we are only on Lesson Eight. Perhaps it is my fault; I am a little scared of climbing math levels too quickly. I really have to hurry up with teaching Algebra. My goal for this week: We cover lessons up to 12.

I've been hitting harder on our Genetics, and we are discussing DNA and RNA viruses, which weren't discussed in his classroom version of the same course. Microbiology is so much fun.

Interwoven with our Genetics studies have been Geography studies. We have been studying Africa and the current AIDS pandemic. We also watched the film "Yesterday" to supplement the very real life scenarios that Africans with HIV and AIDS endure.

What else - we're still working on Hamlet. Still. Taming of the Shrew is the next play in his Film Club (plays are read by the teens first, then a film is viewed the following meeting).
A otherwise attends a smattering of classes offered through NYCHEA, takes guitar lessons, joins me on occasion for knitting, and spends way too much time on MySpace.com.

Snowstorm.

A is reading yet another Brian James book.

It was my birthday this past Thursday. A made me coffee and took Napoleon out all day. He also made quesadillas and washed the dishes.

We had a blizzard this morning. I received e-mails in my inbox, alerting me to which of Alexander's were cancelled this week. Napoleon kept burying his head in the snow - as if it were a comfort blanket - whenever we let him out to pee.

I had knitting duty today for our Knitting Olympics downtown, so I went. The venue for today's Olympic knitting was CBGB's. Bleecker street was covered in white up to there, and, magically, no cars had descended on her. I walked on Bleecker, straight to the white and red awnings, covered in snow. The red letters were only half-visible. I guess this is the last winter I'll see those awnings there, on that street.

Only one other knitter showed up, and we were the only patrons in the venue. "The Olympic knitters," said Hilly, as he walked in to check on us. The bartender was grateful that we tipped nicely.

I found this on Gothamist.

Dude, are you ready for this?

I just got a local prom invitation for homeschoolers. Teens from age 13 and up can attend.

Wow.

A Tale of Two Exhibits

I had heard about the controversy surrounding BODIES: The Exhibition, currently at South Street Seaport in New York. Real human corpses! Skinned and playing soccer! Gross! Shocking! Cool! Controversial! Homeschooling parents, being conscientious and thorough as they are, asked the question that seemed to get lost in the media hype: From where do the bodies come? When I heard the answer from these parents, I was inclined to call the BODIES organizers, Premier Exhibitions, Inc., in Atlanta, Georgia for confirmation.

Me: Hi. My name is LaMai, and I am calling from New York City. I am an educator. I just have a question before we view Bodies: The Exhibition.
Premier Exhibitions, Inc., Lady: OK.
Me: Where does the exhibit come from?
PEIL: I am not sure that I understand your question.
Me: Okay. From where do the BODIES IN THE EXHIBIT come?
PEIL: Uh, China.
Me: I see.
PEIL: [pause] From the Dalian Medical Institute.
Me: Okay. Thank you for the information. That is all I needed to know.

For the bodies to be skinned, cross-sectioned, etc., medical doctors would necessarily perform those procedures. But how did the bodies get to Dalian Medical Institute? Did the the people in BODIES have informed consent to be used for educational purposes? Were they infirmed or in jail when they were alive (and if they were in jail, is it because they were thieves or because were prisoners of conscience)? Will the Chinese government share truthful information or (pardon the pun) doctor it, so that the exhibit can continue its tour?

Gunther von Hagens' BODYWORLDS is a similar exhibit, currently in Philadelphia. The difference is that the bodies - the people - in BODYWORLDS have given consent. Dr. von Hagens also meets with potential donors. Rumor is a lot of people want to be in von Hagens' exhibit, and there is a waiting list.

Horses

Today at lunch I saw Patti Smith eating two tables away from me in SoHo/West Village with Lenny Kaye. They were eating in a spot that had an obstructed view to them. I recently got to know Lenny (sort of - we keep bumping into each other at parties where we'll talk for maybe 20 minutes), and as I left, I said "hi," they were both incredibly sweet, Lenny hugged me and mentioned something about healthy food choices, Patti asked me about my "little one," while they both seemed to wrestle with the internal question "who the bleep is this chick again?" It was okay. It happens to me, too. And I have e-mail addresses, and I love giving refreshers. Especially to very good, honest people. Who are rock legends.

It is unusual for me to actually eat out for lunch. I enjoy eating at home. And I think that I am the only New Yorker who actually attempts to cook three times a day.

So lately, when people ask me, "What's the next big thing?" and I want to answer something about homeschooling, I forget that I am acutally am a homeschooling parent. I am also an activist, a publicity maven, a writer of magazine articles, yadda yadda yadda. Friends show genuine surprise when they hear that I have been anywhere above 14th Street. "You? Above 14th Street?" Um, yeah. You know, I *live* above 14th Street. "Yeah, but, you like, just need to take the train to get to where you do your thing."

Those conversations make me laugh.

New York can be such a succubus, pulling its inhabitants through a rabbit hole where Image is Everything and Who You Are and What You Stand For mean Nothing. I am settling into a good place. I've become honest with myself and with who I am. It's such a contrast to where I was a year and a half ago. I don't have to keep up with anyone. Keeping up with myself is work enough.

So while my head spins while I attempt to cook three (preferably organic) meals a day, everyday, get my hands dirty in fresh new kid mohair and silk yarn from Japan, pick up a new publicity project, read every single news item every day, schedule the next Fung Wah trip to Boston for A to take courses at Harvard, or dream a new rock and roll event, and get asked what I have next on my agenda, I can genuinely say this:

Horses Horses Horses Horses Horses Horses Horses....

Brian James again

A is reading Perfect World by Brian James. It's another pleasure book, apart from our English curriculum, which includes Hamlet by Shakespeare, and smatterings of the Greek classics to supplement our Hamlet readings. A also wants to start a student poetry group to culminate in a reading at the Bowery Poetry Club. We shall see how that goes.

A has come a long way from his public school days, when he was told he was "not ready" to read at his grade level, and his 5th grade teacher thought he did not, or could not, understand English (!). A would come home from school with a sullen expression and mumble, "I've been placed in the dummy reading group."

Those were the days that I secretly wanted to spank his 5th grade teacher. With a mace.

Instead, maybe I'll just send her A's latest reading list.

*Please note, LaMai is not a fan of spanking. I was brought up on Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, Roald Dahl, and the occasional Addams Family t.v. episode, hence my latent dark sense of humor.

Nooooo! E-mail officially kills the telegram

Link to Western Union announcement here.

Story on CNN on their site (it's a video, link in the right-hand column).

Is religion more sacred than freedom of speech and/or freedom of the press?

Topic for discussion based on this world event.

This from CNN...

(sourced from the Associated Press)Businesses cater to homeschool families.
****
Disappointingly, the House passes cuts to student loan subsidies.

I am a mad woman.

Me: Hi Corinna. How about getting our knitting circle involved in the Knitting Olympics?
Corinna: What's that?
Me: Well, it's this idea that Yarn Harlot came up with...yadda yadda yadda...guidelines...yadda yadda yadda...February 10th until February 26...yadda yadda yadda...and we could do it as a media event, and we would highlight different New York bars, because, after all, we are Booze and Yarn, maybe at CBGB's or at the Bowery Poetry Club or Brooklyn Brewery or Niagara, give credit to Yarn Harlot, of course, and donate our projects to a charity, which would be great, the community and the press love that sort of thing, maybe donate our knitted goods to our favorite women's shelter, and we can have a closing ceremony with buttons and and music and Olympic-watching and booze and stuff. I can do the press release. Whaddya think?
Corinna: Sounds great. Let's get to work on it.
Me: Okay...

Wait. Did I just coordinate another insane media event?

Yom HaShoah

I visited HMS Indefatigable's blog to learn that she had read a name.

snarky, me.

I can't help but laugh when re-reading this entry of mine. I reiterate that not everyone should homeschool their kids!

What did the child learn so well that irked me so much? World War II fighter planes and weaponry!

Harvard Extension School Information Session

I could not attend the Information Session in Cambridge last week (A had Law class), but since I had already given my RSVP, I asked the Harvard Extension School offices to send me a set of the handouts. I received the packet today. In it, I found an article by Ursula Pawlowski featured in the Fall 2005 Alumni Bulletin. In part, it reads:

"Extension School faculty have discovered unique qualities in students who are homeschooled. Dr. Paul Bamberg, who teaches math and physics, was struck by an exceptionally bright student in his advanced geometry course. 'I had a half-dozen Extension School students combined with Harvard undergraduates in my class,' he says. 'The top two students happened to be Extension School students, and the top student was homeschooled.' Of the homeschooled students he has come in contact with, Bamberg says he has found them to be 'more inclined to speak up, more careful with all the detail on their homework.' As for stereotypes, Bamberg says, 'I've heard them - that homeschooled students are antisocial, a liability to high schools. I haven't met any of those types yet.' "

What A is reading for pleasure...

Last week A read this (top); this week it is this (bottom). I know. Brian James is so emo. But isn't that what adolescence is about?

Music to motivate learning

We tend to pipe in music into our lives on a steady basis. To kick-start our learning neurons, we flow between Mozart, Bach, Beatles, and Bluegrass. Lately, there's been a lot of bluegrass. I am curious as to what everyone else listens to. Anything interesting, cool, new, or weird?

Being the change.

A has a Genetics test in Brooklyn this morning. Last night I got barraged with questions about somatic chromosomes and gametes and haplodiploidy in bees and wild brown dominant alleles in drones crossed with F1 progeny of g-d-knows-what combination.

"Mom, I know all the mitotic phases!"
That's great, son!
"Prophase, Metaphase, Anaphase, Telophase, and do you know when cytokinesis happens?"
Let me guess.
"Late anaphase or telophase!"

Man, I used to teach that stuff to wide-eyed 18-year-old college freshmen.

Which is funny. The majority of homeschoolers in the co-op here are incredibly studious, nerdy, geeky, or just plain scary. In a good way. A's Law class is comprised of kids who look dead-serious as they walk into class, ready to attack the "issues" of the cases they are given. Big, tall, kids whose 2006 hormones make them taller than the tallest teens I ever encountered, some with buttons on bags and hats and clothing that read things like, "Question Authority" or "Be the Change You Wish to See in the World - Gandhi".

I sometimes wonder if mixing all ages of teens together in one room to study the same class material is a problem for A. So far, he seems to actually like it, and doesn't mind if the older teens are better able to understand the class material than he is. He knows if he doesn't "get" it one day, it will come later. Because I am the secondary teacher, and I can break things down ad nauseum until he does get it. Ah, the beauty of the Classroom of One.

Which brings me to another thing about flexibility in homeschooling. Unfortunately, A was not accepted to the International Center of Photography Teen Workshop for this Spring. Someone at ICP, who I will call "Tim" left a voicemail message on A's cellphone that went like this:

Tim: Hi!! This is Tim at ICP!! And I have news about you and the Teen Workshop! Call me as soon as you get this! I'll be in the office until 7 tonight!!

It was nearly 6 p.m. when A retrieved the message, and we were on the street. In Times Square. A got incredibly excited. "It's ICP! It's ICP! I have to call them NOW. NOW. Before it's too late." He got Tim's voicemail. Tim returned the call to A, after much sweating and adrenaline-rushing, by 6:55 p.m. The conversation went like this:

Tim: Well, you know, this is a very competitive program, and you're very young, I see that you're 13-years-old, and, we're supposed to take high school kids, so we just don't have a place for you. Try applying next year.
A: Okay.

A to me: "Does that mean I wasn't competitive enough?"
Me: Grrrrrr....

My imaginary e-mail to Tim:

Dear Tim:

Hurry up and get rejected? Lotto-Winner syndrome before being tossed? Is this a New York thing? Puhleez, darling. Send an e-mail when rejecting an applicant to your program. And, include the bit about high school enrollment as a requisite, in your literature. You otherwise are just getting their hopes up for nothing. You are evil. Go back to Mordor.

Very truly yours,

La Maitresse

Later, we called up our photographer friend, the one whose images are in numerous coffee-table photo books and on too many t-shirts to mention, and asked if he could teach A how to work in the darkroom in his studio and maybe learn some photography technique. His reply? "Sure. What's your schedule like?"

Score.

Even journalists don't read?

Is it me, or does it seem to anyone else that the reporter who wrote this piece has not actually read Don Quixote? If I were Bono, I'd give the journalist a call.

note: as a native Spanish speaker and reader of Cervantes, I was rather surprised to see Don Quixote and Bono's work for Africa mentioned in the same article. Don Quixote is not known in the literary world as a "knight in shining armor who champions causes," but rather, is as synonymous to "seriously-touched-in-the-head guy in armor" as you can get. Because there are corporations financially backing Bono, it would seem to me that the publication has essentially brought itself into "libel" territory.

from Detroit Free Press, January 27, 2006:

Bono's new cause

U2 front man Bono is proving anew to be the 21st Century's Don Quixote. On Thursday, he unveiled a new push to fight disease in Africa. He announced in Davos, Switzerland, a partnership with several companies to sell products under a brand called Red, with the proceeds going to the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria.

"So here we are, fat cats in the snow, and I say that as one," he said to laughs from the ink- and pixel-stained wretches at a media confab. Red includes red-theme products from American Express, Converse, Gap and Giorgio Armani.

*****
In that other story that makes LaMai think hard about her own little memoir, the story about a certain writer who got Frey-d on a certain talk show, Gawker takes this spin.

Swarthmore pulls through!!!!

Some more feedback:

Dear Ms. LaMai,

We have tracked down some figures for you. Each year we receive approximately 30-40 homeschooled applicants and they are accepted at the same rate as the rest of our applicant pool, which is 22-23%. If you have any further questions please let us know.

Swarthmore College
Admissions Office

Sunny?

LaMai asks everyone who is not feeling sunny to go visit The Denim Jumper. LaMai says: Try it. You will probably like it.






why is LaMai starting to sound like Manolo?

from Swarthmore College

Sorry we do not have statistics on acceptance rates for homeschooled students.

We are looking for the same sort of activities, grades, etc that we look for in our other students. Swarthmore is looking for the intellectually curious student who is taking the most challenging courses available to them and who is active in no-school [sic], community activities.

Admissions Office
Swarthmore College

Those colleges that do not offer any numbers at all, have left me no choice but to ask the follow-up question: "Do you accept any homeschoolers at all?" I will add that information as I receive it.

Edit: Swarthmore further responds:

Dear Ms. LaMai

I'm not quite sure what you mean my[sic] "any" but if you are referring to whether we allow home schooled students to apply and do we accept any of them, yes we do.

Please let us know if you have any further questions.

Swarthmore College
Admissions Office

My response to their response:

Without statistics, or an affirmative response as to whether homeschooled students are actually accepted by Swarthmore, it is difficult to gauge if any homeschoolers at all have been accepted by your institution. I therefore felt the need to ask if any number of homeschoolers have actually been accepted by Swarthmore. I thank you for your responses.

LaMai

Swarthmore pulls through!!! Some more feedback:

Dear Ms. LaMai,

We have tracked down some figures for you. Each year we receive approximately 30-40 homeschooled applicants and they are accepted at the same rate as the rest of our applicant pool, which is 22-23%. If you have any further questions please let us know.

Swarthmore College
Admissions Office

from Yale University

Hi LaMai-

The stats for applicants and martics [sic] are not available for me to give out;
however, I can tell you that we have some extremely competitive applicants for admission who have been homeschooled in the past.
Our application process is a wholistic one in that no one thing can
help or harm an applicant's chances of being accepted, and having been homeschooled
certainly should not by itself harm any applicant to the University.

Best

Undergraduate Admissions
Yale University

The Danes win again!

LaMai is trying to get over the fact that there are many, many lurkers who are too shy to say "hi." I do not expect Calletta, L, Liz, Sarah, or the regular bloggy folk to out themselves yet again. It would have been nice to see new names. But no. The Canadians and Australians win again. Maybe that is because Canadians habitually leave their front doors open, and Australians are fearless and use crocodiles to clip their lawns. I suspect the New Yorker who commented, who regularly outs herself, was being polite and tried to show others how safe it really is here on a New York City blog (thank you, nycitymomx3; I owe you lunch at Balthazar's). That is okay. I took a nice long whiff of a lavender martini and ate chocolate. I am over it now.

In other news, last night at my knitting circle, I took the opportunity to unveil my fugly hat. It was supposed to be a nice round simple garter stitch mohair-ish creation. What I actually produced had, well...

A: "Mom, that shape is weird. It looks Scandinavian or something. Like it should be on a troll."
Me: "Don't make fun of my hat!"
A: "Not making fun. I'm just saying...."
Me: "Is it really bad?"
A: "Um, it looks like a [insert prophylactic thing here]."

Goth Girl at Knitting Circle: "Um, is that a, uh, reservoir tip on top of your hat?"
Me: [Sigh] "Yes. I guess. Doesn't it look Seussical?"
GGaKC: "Uh. Yeah. Sure. Seussical."

Knitting Circle Leader Hipster Chick: "Wow. Your hat rocks. It's so funny."
Me: "Thanks."
KCLHC: "No, really. I love it."

Okay. Stop laughing, folks. I found this hat (top-right) online. It all makes sense now. My viking DNA wins again. It is now knitting for me.

Because lurking can be creepy...

De-lurk yourselves. It's de-lurking week. And we're pretty friendly here.

Edit: Oh, wow. I had no idea that Relaxed Homeskool declared de-lurking week about two weeks ago. That's okay, though, because lurking is still creepy. So I declare it de-lurking week on this blog. Thank you kindly, folks.

MWAH HAH HAH!!!!

Napoleon: RAR RAR WOOF. RAR WOOF RAR WOOF BARK BARK WOOF WOOF RAR RARAR WOOF BARK RARARARARWOOFARKARWOOFBARKBARK?
Me: Huh?
Napoleon: Are Americans more fearful of de-lurking than other populations in other cultures?
Me: I have no idea, Nappo. Let's find out.
Napoleon: Woof.
Me: Indeed.

Happiness is....

Knowing your kid is not alone enroute to class on the subway, but is accompanied by another homeschooler.

photo: sionnac on Flickr.

picking up a meme...

This meme from Andrea's site over at Atypical Life. She is tagging anyone!

Four jobs you have had in your life:
Airline reservationist (gag me! but I got to fly for free)
Fish importer for gelatin (the fish came from Lake Victoria when it contained victims of the Hutu/Tutsi conflict in Rwanda)
Americorps reading tutor to inner-city kids (where all the dads were away "at college")
"Celebrity Justice" the t.v. show, content writer

Four movies you could watch over and over:
The Wizard of Oz
Love, Actually
Amelie
Ocean's 11

Four places you have lived:
Los Angeles
Miami
London (Belsize Park)
Paris (18eme arrondissement; the apt. was very small)

Four t.v. shows you love to watch:
Extreme Makeover, Home Edition
Trading Spaces
60 Minutes
Anderson Cooper 360°

Four places you have been on vacation:
Italy
Switzerland
The Middle East
U.S.S.R. in August 1991 (don't ask)

Four websites you visit daily:
Gothamist
CNN.com
NYTimes
Google

Four of your favorite foods:
blue corn quesadillas!!!!!
Aloo Gobi with parathas
All my grandmother's Cuban cooking
feta/shallot quiches that I make at home

Four places you'd rather be right now:
Charlotte's house near Woodstock
Miami
Rajasthan
Magnolia Bakery

I tag anyone, as well!

Concierge Services, where are you?????

Ode on an Itinerary for: Marlette and Guisseppe (super condensed)

Thou still most ravish’d site of bloggyness
Thou foster child of Postings and cool Font,
Mormon mommy-teacher, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than this rant:
What purple-border I last recall about thy template
Of King Tut or mortals, sometimes the Ramones,
In Tempe or the dales of Albuquerque?
What men or gods have seized (you)? Should I phone?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What new curriculum? Gives it you ecstasy?

*you probably know that this lame poem was inspired by this guy's work. And Concierge Services, WHERE ARE YOU?

Lazy Sunday

A is finishing his Rowan Big Wool yarn scarf, and Napoleon is enjoying the fruit of his labor...

Quick food

It's been a long time since I've blogged about food here. Part of a good education is teaching young'uns how to fend for themselves in a kitchen and over a stovetop. A's friends can make pancakes and mousse. Right now I like A to learn simple foods that, as Dolly Parton once said, "Any fool can make," because that is how I got started: making spaghetti. Until I was 19-years-old.

Tonight, I decided to learn more about quesadillas for A to cook. My pre-prep involved calling up my good friend Arturo Vega, the artistic director for the Ramones (Isn't his Ramones logo cool? I bet you own one of his shirts, too). His hospitality often includes quesadilla-making at his loft on Joey Ramone Place.

[Ring, Ring]
Me: Hi. We're making quesadillas.
AV: [laughs, because he knows he's responsible for our obsession] Oh yeah?
Me: Yes. I need your help. What is the most preferred cheese in Mexico used for quesadillas?
AV: You can use anything. I've used parmesan [laughs], Monterey Jack, even gorgonzola.
Me: Uh-huh. But what would you use if you were in Mexico?
AV: You can use anything.
Me: How about a normal Mexican? Shopping in a normal Mexican grocery store? What would he or she look for?
AV: Oh. You should try queso de Oaxaca.

The result -

(Top) The traditional quesadilla: made with blue corn tortilla, filled with queso de hebra de Oaxaca (sounds like Hebrews in Oaxaca, I know) and cilantro, topped with salt and salsa casera.

(Bottom) The New World quesadilla: made with a gorda white corn tortilla, filled with organic sauteed shallots and gorgonzola, topped with salt and apple/corn/chile salsa.





A preferred the traditional quesadilla.

LaMai shares another secret...

Theater-going isn't normally cheap in New York City, but Theater Extras is an organization can help you go to a show every week with very little money. They also support the arts by using a percentage of your membership fee (as low as $99 annually) to support Fiorello LaGuardia High School (the "Fame" school), Broadway Cares, and Equity Fights AIDS. The catch? You will not gain access to their Broadway or Off-Broadway or Off-Off-Broadway shows list until you become a member.

So, take your kids to the theater. Run along now.

Bog Men Had Manicures

This from National Geographic News.

"Oldcroghan man was preserved so perfectly that his discovery sparked a police murder investigation before archaeologists were called in."

*******
Our very own Knit New York is featured in today's CNN Student News. Click on the "Student News" icon to the left in the Watch and Learn section.

Pomona College

I had initially received this response via e-mail from Pomona College:

Hi LaMai,

Unfortunately we do not have the statistics for homeschooled applicants. We expect your application to be just like applications from non-homeschooled applicants. Many applicants submit a resume of the extracurricular activities which I would encourage you to do as well if you feel as though you have unique experiences which the application does not cover.

If you have any further questions, please contact us by phone at (XXX)-XXX-XXXX.

Best wishes,

Pomona College Admissions

I decided to call. I spoke with an admissions director who did not have statistics on-hand, and seemed very reluctant to give me inaccurate information. Pomona College does not track homeschool students. Regarding how many homeschoolers apply, "It's a small number [of applicants]," she repeated more than twice. She did say, however, that she herself came across three applicants. Pomona College currently receives over 5,000 applications for admission annually.

A "very explicit and detailed" curriculum that provides "a feel for academic promise" is ideal for submission with application from homeschoolers, but the admissions director stated that homeschool applicants already seem to be generous with information about their studies. That said, a synopsis of every single book the student has read "is not necessary." ACT/SAT tests are required as per their standard (link above). Two references is the standard number required from applicants, but, homeschoolers tend to provide more.

What I gleaned from this exchange was that homeschool students know what they're up against, and do not short-change information about their studies when applying to Pomona.

Spamalot

Last night, A and I ventured to the TKTS line in TimesSquarelandia.

Me: Hi. Do you have tickets for Spamalot?
TKTS Guy: No. You have to go to their box office.
Me: Okay. Do you have tickets for Avenue Q?
TKTS Guy: Yes. $70 each.
Me: Okay. Do you have tickets for RFK?
TKTS Guy: Yes. $32 each.
Me: And I'd have to go downtown, right by CBGB's to see it. Hmmmm...Do you have tickets to The Producers?
TKTS Guy: Yes. Those cost a hundred million dollars.
Me: Um, I'll be back later.

This is what you do in New York if you can't get tickets anywhere. You go to the box office, of say, Spamalot, and say, "Hi. Do you have tickets?" To which the Box Office Guy inevitably replies, "Standing room tickets. But you needed to come at 3:12 a.m. before the cock's crow and stand in line for those."

Then someone will see you pathetically ask for tickets and get none. And that someone is called a professional tickets broker (i.e., a scalper guy with a license). And he will say, "Hey, lady, I can get you in for 140 bucks." His friend down the corner will maybe be yelling out "Spamalot tickets! 800 bucks!" And you will think, "Carpe Noctum!" and say, "Do you have a card? I want to make sure your tickets are legitimate." And he will give you a card, with a real area code. Because 1-800 numbers do not count. And you will reply, "But I only have 109 bucks in my pocket right now." And he will say, "Okay. The tickets are yours."

We liked Spamalot. A little too Hollywood-meets-Broadway, a little too Clear Channel Entertainment, for Monty Python fans, but it had me and A laughing so hard that we nearly, well, you know.

"Stupid in America" just won't go away!

LaMai's friends at Gothamist feature an entry about a woman challenging the government for her education dollars. Comments include talk of the "20/20" segment.

LaMai thinks that the public park lawn care analogy is weird, though.

Directly from Gothamist:

Woman Wants Government to Pay for Private School

This is awesome: A Queens woman is asking a judge to make the state pay for her five children to get a private school education. The basis for Dianne Payne's claim is that since the state owes the city about $5.6 billion to give public school students a basic education, the city is currently failing her kids and therefore, the $12,500 the city reportedly spends per student should just be given directly to her! Payne, who sends two children to private school in Queens, told reporters, "I'm doing my job as a parent. The problem is that the city is not doing its job." While people don't expect her motion to gain any traction (the city calls it "obvious grandstanding"), Gothamist imagines this will pave the way for people suggesting that the city give them the money it uses to maintain the parks because they know how to take care of lawns better. This actually sounds like an extension of the credits for parents who would send their kids fo private school that we think Giuliani floated (it was some politician) a while back - does this still exist?

Fun fact: Payne's lawyer is Eric Grannis, former City Council member Eva Moskowitz's husband.

Harvard Secondary and Homeschool Students Information Session

Will be Wednesday, January 25, at 4 p.m. in the Grossman Common, 2nd Floor, 51 Brattle Street. Link here for Harvard Extension School. Scholarships are apparently available for Middle and High School teachers and students, but I could not find anything on the .pdf site that says students can get the funds, or if homeschoolers qualify. I will try to find out next week and report my findings here.

New Yorkers can take the Fung Wah bus to Boston's Chinatown for $15, then hop over to Cambridge from there.

BoB

Look, guys, I do not expect to win, but it did occur to me that I did not include the correct link to vote. There are edu-blogs that are waaay better than this one. I mean, look at the formatting and information over at some of those blogs on the list. Vote for who you'd really like to win. Because it's all about choice.

And what could be better than choice?

******

In other news, "Stupid in America" - that 20/20 segment that ran last week - has been on my mind. I found a link to someone who transcribed the show. But LaMai is not responsible for the link, or its contents, or errors, or lack of spell-checking, including that place called "Chechoslovakia" [sic] which LaMai suspects does not exist. There is also that chart entitled, "How to Fire an Inept Teacher." And mind, LaMai does not wish for New York City school teachers to be fired. Unless they suck.

edit: I found this link to a better synopsis.

schlepping around, LaMai style (and dreaming in Gwyneth)

Today was a travel-heavy day. In fact, all our days now will be travel-heavy days, now that we belong to and participate in NYCHEA. On Monday there was Genetics class and writing class and later a teen meeting in the evening. We traveled from Brooklyn to Queens to lower Manhattan and...well, it was a lot of travel.

Last night I dreamt that I had to babysit Gwyneth Paltrow's baby. And breastfeed the infant. The scariest part of the dream was that I couldn't remember the infant's name, or where I had (mis)placed her. "Is it Fiona? Apple? Nectarine? It's Apple. That's it. Apple. Okay, where is Apple? Where did I put her? Gwyneth is on the way now. I've got to find this infant. Where. Where. Where. Apple? Apple!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPLE!!!!"

Today A had bar mitzvah ("b-m"") prep and I had to check out the b-m space. I went to a lower Manhattan location not far from CBGB's. It is a loft. Not the same loft I posted about before.

Loft Lady Giving Me The Tour [LLGMTT]: "It used to be a brothel."
Me: Really?
LLGMTT: "Yeah. There used to be all these little rooms all over the space, and apparatus attached to the walls. We didn't know what the apparatus was for."
Me: This place is amazing. Are those windows original? They're amazing.
LLGMTT: "Yes but we added the tinting."
Me: Wow. And the flowers....Can I have those, too?
LLGMTT: "Sure. You know, we get a lot of weddings and corporate parties here."
Me: Oh. Really?
LLGMTT: "Corporations are evil, I know. We honestly should bring back crack to lower Manhattan."
Me: You have kids?
LLGMTT: "Yes. One. In kindergarten. At the [insert elite kindergarten school name here]. You and I...we're the same age, aren't we?"
Me: I think so. [I offer my age to her] So, is it okay if the Sick F*cks play here? They do this routine called "Spanish Bar Mitzvah!" They're friends of mine, and...
LLGMTT: Sure. You'd have to rent the stage, though. And for your menu choices...any idea?
Me: Um....Asian and East Indian?
LLGMTT: Sure. We do fusion menus all the time.

It used to be a brothel. Corporations are evil. We do fusion menus all the time.

Me: Um, can you send me the proposal ASAP? I think we'll book it.

Later, I run home and get A ready for his Law Class in SoHo. I drop him off but notice he's the first one there. Five minutes later, most of the teens from Monday night's teen meeting appear.

"Oh, hi Alex," they chime. Homeschoolers sure do get around New York.

After class, A tells me he studied the same Tort cases that I did in law school. Hammontree v. Jenner. Escola v. Coca Cola Bottling Co. of Fresno.

Did I know that there was a lawsuit where a woman defendant drove into a truck thinking the headlights were directed by G-d, causing her to accelerate into the truck, thinking she would become airborne like Batman?
No, I didn't know that.
"The truck driver Plaintiff won."
Thank G-d.
"The professor is teaching us issue-spotting. He's so cool. And we can intern there later if we want. I think I really like homeschooling now."
Coolio.

from Middlebury College

Dear LaMai:

We only receive about 25 home schooled applicants during the course of a year, so I don't think we can come up with any meaningful statistics. We generally admit about 24% of our applicant pool and I have no reason to believe that home schooled kids fare any differently than the other applicants.

Home schooled students come from all sorts of backgrounds, and we have no particular formula by which they are evaluated. We take each case as it comes along and try to make the best possible decision given the information provided.

I hope this helps.

Mr. Associate Director of Admissions
Middlebury College

Duke University

The admissions director at Duke with whom I just spoke directed me here. I am impressed that this page exists. She also stated that "more is more" in terms of submitting curricula information to Duke when applying. Portfolios are accepted on an artistic basis (there is a portfolio deadline).

Homeschooled students are accepted at equal or higher rates than the national average, according to the admissions director.

While I wait for Pomona College and Duke U. to call me back...

...and will they call me back? Today before 4 p.m, please? I will say that I consider myself lucky to have met the man seated on the left of the picture here. Because he was in contention for this award. A proud expecting papa, he flexed his thespian muscle plenty for Brokeback Mountain.

Brokeback Mountain was difficult for me to watch - I am embarassingly "old school" when it comes to watching homosexuality on the screen (no, "Will & Grace" does not count, try "Maurice" instead). I look away when I see homosexual men cuddling or kissing or doing more. Ditto women. But something about the film resonated, when I didn't expect it to. I am playing the film score on my computer over and over to figure out what the thing was.

I cannot place my finger on it. Other than I do not yet have a mountain of my own. I should consider myself lucky if ever I find a love that brings me fulfillment, challenges, and integrity with who I am, and the same for the other person. It would be good to feel that fullness in my heart, which is a different one from the parental kind. Sometimes New York City - despite its millions of people, many who are equally searching, I think - can be as lonely as that dusty road in the film.

I Have a Dream...

Today, while A attended his Genetics class in Park Slope, Brooklyn, I headed over to the same cafe as last week. The class began at 10 a.m. and we were late. I found the mom who organized the class, N., also sitting in the cafe. Of course she would be there. She told me about the cafe, and that it is a good place to pass time, study, knit, etc. She was studying for her dissertation next a hip-looking chic on an iBook. I hoped she would not notice that I arrived at the cafe at 10:25 a.m. instead of 10:05 a.m.

I told her that I wanted to start a Geography class for teens. "Oh that would be great," she says. I ask her if she watches Jay Leno. I recount that one Jay Leno episode that horrified me to bits:

Jay Leno: "This country's capital is Mexico City."
Random woman on the street: "New Mexico!"
JL: "New Mexico is a country?"
RWOTS: "Albuquerque?"
JL: "Not a country. Let me ask again. This country's capital is Mexico City."
RWOTS: "The United States!!!!"

N. expressed similar frustration with our geographic literacy. She is an African-American woman who grew up in the South, married a Swiss guy and learned that most people thought Swiss people were Swedish, yet was still stupefied when someone - a New Yorker - she knows was challenged with this question: "Name a Northeastern state." The answer by the New Yorker was "Paris."

N. agreed that we should have a Geography class.

I then went to the downstairs section of the cafe to knit my French Market Felted Bag.

After 5 minutes, N. popped her head to the downstairs area where I was sitting.

N: "Sorry to disturb. Do you know which was the Civil Rights Amendment in the Constitution?"
Me: S&*T!.

I do not know the answer. I am embrassed. I was a law student. I studied Constitutional Law. And I have forgotten. On Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

Me: New Mexico?

If you, like me, are stumped for the answer, today would be a good day to learn it. I have a dream that one day, we will all know this very, very basic information, like recounting the capital city of Mexico. The real Mexico.

The College Survey resumes...

I began the College Survey in November, then the holidays impeded my fact-finding. I have organized the responses obtained from nine colleges thus far into a neat little column (currently under the blog list, but that will change). I expect it to grow as I aggressively attempt to get answers from institutions of higher learning about their views and acceptance rates on homeschooling applicants.

*****
I have a question for the parents: Do you prefer to read stories aloud to your kids, or make up stories as you go along?

::Tap Tap:: Is this thing working?

I have learned that this blog o'mine has been included for this. Thank you to the folks responsible for the nomination. I like you, too.

WWJJD?*

I love the rants coming from Princess Ennui on Pat Robertson's holier-than-Sharon-speakthese days. If you haven't checked out her blog, run, don't walk. You just might like the Princess.

We had a chat at my knitting circle this week about religion. We almost never - ever - talk religion (there is some sex talk and plenty of political talk, mind). We talked about folks who believe in intelligent design as opposed to evolution, and rapture, where entire populations of human beings would be left behind because they had not accepted Jesus. I then went on to explain that different branches of Christianity, Judaism, Islam, etc., all seem to have some type of exclusionary "beyond the present world" belief. When death or the Messiah/prophet appears, you are screwed and get left our if you haven't accepted the One And Only Acceptable G-d. Of course, many cultures and faiths are unique to themselves in that their G-d is the only acceptable one.

LaMai recalled being told, as a child, that "Jews get to go to hell" for not accepting Jesus. LaMai also recalled the rabbi telling her that goyim don't "get to go to the same shamayim" as Jews do. I wonder where infidels get to go, according to Islam. No, we have not studied that one yet, me and A.

It was also then that I began to wonder about the prohibition of tattoos to receive a Jewish burial. Okay, that is going off on a tangent.

So I declared that I would join the practice, compartmentalize my world, and create my very own religion. That's right. I get to smoke the shaman's pipe, not you. And nobody else can join me in my after world. Because it is mine. All mine. My secret handshake, not yours. My Rosetta Stone. My nirvana. And nobody else's.

And yes, I am being snarky.

*What Would Joan Jett Do?

******

In other news, Napoleon seems to have developed needle envy. I found a ball of yarn and a number 7 circular needle in his crate.

Knitting in Schools (credit to Poppins)

This guide to knitting in schools by Cat Bordhi is fascinating (credit to Poppins). I am not sure how much students can focus on lessons while knitting, but I am willing to give it a try. Maybe listen to an audio-tape as Ms. Bordhi did with her students.

And I, too, was skeptical that knitting could be accepted by boys as well as girls. But A's interest in knitting, and now, spinning, seems to demonstrate that crafts - and jobs - should never be limited by gender.

20/20's "Stupid in America"

Tonight's segment on ABC's 20/20 about education in the United States was not enlightening to me - I had already known everything that was reported in that segment. It reinforced how desperately un-fixable the education system is here in our country. I watched teacher after teacher demand MORE MONEY!!! MORE MORE MORE!! for education, while John Stossel visited one high-school aged kid who remained stuck reading at 4th Grade level. During a meeting, the principal of his school felt he was performing satisfactorily. I wanted to bonk that principal on the head.

After a few hours with Sylvan Learning tutorials, the student jumped several grade levels in reading.

If you missed "Stupid in America" you can visit 20/20's website and view clips from the segment.

Switzerland strikes again!

Remember that wedding I had to schlep myself to Switzerland in September of 2004? (see below for reminder - that's me holding a balloon on the right. The balloon thing is a Swiss custom, they were released with little notes bearing favor-type promises to the couple that we wrote; some balloons actually wound up in Italy and Germany) Well, a little fruit dropped from the marriage tree. Nicolas Ian was born! Hurrah! I get to knit a baby blanket!!

Knitting bliss, living under a rock, and evil downstairs neighbors.

Okay, this knitter is kicking my butt. His name is Alexander. That is our dog, Nappo, next to him. A is a proud manly knitter. Who knew that he, as did Laurence Fishburne, would wander into the land of the humungo knitting needle? And now, he's off to guitar class.

Last night I got together with my friend T., the newly-promoted-to-Senior-Editor chick at Big Glossy Pictorial Book Publishing House. I pulled out the Dave Eggers book out of my bag to show her.
I like this guy's writing style. I mean, the momentum is a little much, and he comes off as a jerk, but his writing is so fresh. That was when she looked at me as if I had been living under a rock.

T: "He's created this entire world based on himself since that book. He's with McSweeney's in San Francisco. He's a big gun now."
Me: Erm...wasn't this book published only three years ago or so?
T: "Yeah. He's had some time to create his empire."

Three years? To create an empire? Based on a book about holding his mother's nose and keeping it from bleeding? Are you kidding me?

I need a literary job to keep abreast of all this stuff and not look like a dork with my Big Publishing House friends. T. also mentioned the James Frey controversy. I have yet to read his book but I am not living under a rock with respect to the controversy surrounding Mr. Frey's literary honesty. Apparently, there is talk among publishing houses about two book manuscripts that were initially submitted as "fiction" - but when the manuscripts were rejected by the publishers - were subsequently re-submitted as "non-fiction/memoir" manuscripts. Ouch.

Our downstairs (ground floor) neighbors are complaining about us again. They are REALLY LUCKY (CAN YOU HEAR ME SAY THIS, YOU DOWNSTAIRS PEOPLE?) that we rarely have invited guests over, if ever, at all, that A does not have playdates here, and that we keep things quiet by 10 p.m. They do not seem to differentiate "noise" from "sounds" and refer to their three-year-old girl in pink barrettes as "the baby." As in, "It's 7 p.m. Could you stop vacuuming? The baby is sleeping." They also told the management that A has a drumset. A DRUMSET. How can they make that up? Do they even know what a drumset SOUNDS LIKE? I think that I shall produce a map with "Westchester" clearly demarcated in yellow highlighter for them. Because that is where they ought to live. Nice and pin-drop quiet and out in the suburbs.

Okay, LaMai has sufficiently vented for today about the downstairs neighbors.

We're here!

And we've been eating waaay too many blue corn tortilla quesadillas (quesadilla not pictured, but blue corn tortilla-something is).

We spent New Year's Eve in Times Square under the auspices of Little Steven, and with the help of the Chesterfield Kings, doused David Johansen with champagne. I think it was the highlight of Alexander's entire adolescence.

Then we all got flu. For a week.

Now we're back, and class is in session. A is taking a Genetics class taught in Park Slope, Brooklyn that was started by a NYCHEA parent. This week, I picked up A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius at the local coffeeshop in Park Slope while waiting for the two-hour Genetics class to finish. I have decided that I like Dave Eggers' honest writing.

Alexander will be attending Film Club in the Bronx. Our biggest change was our switch to Saxon Math, which I didn't want to really reveal until we were sure we would stick to Saxon. So A is on Algebra with Saxon, and is doing well.

The saddest thing is our having lost Catherine to the Lyceé Français. She is teaching there, as well as at Brooklyn Poly Prep, and now cannot fit us into her schedule. I hate those schools for stealing our beloved Catherine.

One day. One day...

And my resolutions for this year? To meet the people I only dream of meeting (David Bowie, Bono Vox, Kofi Annan, and Anita Roddick, to name a few), and to pay my electric bill on time.