My right shoulder has been bothering me again lately. I don't know if it's the rotator cuff again, or something else. My current plan is to be diligent about my stretches and exercises for the rotator cuff for the next ten days, and then decide whether to call my GP. (Getting in before Thanksgiving, given that it's not remotely an emergency and we're traveling Wednesday, seems unlikely.) Doing the strengthening exercises today, I found three went very smoothly, and the fourth caused an immediate "ouch" in a way that suggested I'd hit the relevant muscle, or a relevant muscle. However, that felt more like upper arm than shoulder, so there may be two things going on, or I may just have pushed things at the gym yesterday.

I have uploaded some more photos to Flickr: autumn in the park, two weird vegetables, and one picture of Julian. Here's one sample:

When I was buying a piece of fish at the Greenmarket today, the vendor warned me that they won't be there next Saturday. I told her I wouldn't either, but thanked her for the warning. A bit of chat about plans led to her asking me "What's in Boston, your children?" I said "No, my girlfriend," and smiled. I not only look old enough to have grown children, I am that old, but it still surprised me.

We get the college alumni magazine (it would take an active effort not to), so it goes in the stack of "things to read in the bathroom" along with Science, the Nature Conservancy magazine, and occasional catalogs. I tend to do a really fast skim of the "class notes," and was thus reminded that my class's 25th reunion is next spring. If it weren't Wiscon weekend, I might think about going, though I'd probably decide against it: I haven't either kept in touch with, or missed, those people. The key point is the second half of that, I think.

cattitude has been buying hummus as a snack lately, and he is working his way through the flavors available at the nearest grocery. The garlic doesn't have enough garlic in it, and the pine nuts weren't noticeable in the pine nut flavored hummus, but the roasted pepper is nice. (The brand name is Sabra; this is not a global opinion of garlic hummus.)

Cross-posted from Dreamwidth (http://redbird.dreamwidth.org/1182078.html), where there are comments. Please comment here, there, or both.

It looks like the only work there is for me to do, pressingly, is marking papers. And even that's not very pressing. How odd! This makes me want to do anything else but mark papers - make elaborate soy sausages out of Okara, tempeh-stuffed bell peppers from my new "vegan soul food" cookbook. Make soy milk. Read things for teaching next week. Clearly I should just do the marking. Clearly.

I've been reflecting more on this feeling that if I can't make it out of here into a new job I'll just leave academe - simultaneously an enlivening and exciting prospect and terrifying and deadening. Thinking about Babara, who most of us thought was dead after she got into crack in grad school and dropped out and disappeared - and today shows up on my facebook feed as a suggested friend. She seems to be alive, and to have eleven friends on facebook! This doesn't connect to anything about academe, really, except that somehow it's hard to think about leaving.

The situation here, though, pushes on that - this pervasive feeling that There Is Something Wrong in this town. Alot of this is about race; the lesbian blackface fail of Halloween haunts me, with all these white lesbians "not feeling safe" to intervene in the racist blowback that followed. Since I'm not close enough to the scene to be directly involved, I'm trying to craft useful responses - talking to the people I know, suggesting that we, I don't know, have a workshop? It's fucked. Alongside this a major move by people in my program to dismantle some of the structures in the institution meant to ensure some accountability and oversight of profs using indigenous content in their classes. I've spent probably fifteen hours of the last month having fights about this, scuttling motions to have this move come from the department as a whole. It's not a lot to do, and it's still scary and tiring.

At least the weather has continued to be absolutely excellent for biking.

Well, that's novel: a vendor I haven't yet dealt with (though my boss has) sent me a Thanksgiving card.

Since I am mostly achieving a quiet, normal life, have a gym post ( cut to avoid boredom )

Cross-posted from Dreamwidth (http://redbird.dreamwidth.org/1181894.html), where there are comments. Please comment here, there, or both.

A big sprinkle of curry powder added to the stock in a risotto = YUM.

I have no medical details, but baldanders is doing well enough that he is home from the hospital.

Cross-posted from Dreamwidth (http://redbird.dreamwidth.org/1181673.html), where there are comments. Please comment here, there, or both.

what keeps you going when everything is depressing?

Happy birthday, roadnotes!

My mother is in the country for a couple of weeks: time here in New York to see me, her sisters, and a friend or two; a few days in Nevada with the other sister; and then off to Texas to see my brother next weekend.

I invited her to come uptown and visit me and cattitude last weekend, rather than me going downtown to my aunt's (where Mom was staying) or meeting somewhere else, which might have been interesting but maximally tiring since everyone would have had to travel. We sat and drank tea and talked for a few hours. Somewhere in there, Cattitude started a pot of chicken soup, but that was for a late dinner and wouldn't really have stretched to three people (even if the main goal hadn't been to freeze most of it to use as an ingredient later).

I realized afterwards that I was feeling stressed, and had to stop and think about why. We had talked about a variety of somewhat stressful topics (including various people's health, and the 9/11 attacks, that prompted by Mom reasonably asking what we thought of having one of the Guantanamo detainees tried here in the city). And I was worried about baldanders (who is doing somewhat better, by report). They're topics that I would probably have found stressful no matter who I was talking to, not stressful because it's my mother.

Homemade chicken soup is restorative.

Cross-posted from Dreamwidth (http://redbird.dreamwidth.org/1181381.html), where there are comments. Please comment here, there, or both.

The gym has replaced the cardio bikes I liked with ones that don't have built-in fans, and that instead of letting me press a button marked "7" to get level 7, make me hit an up arrow six times. (And they don't have as good holders for water bottle and reading material.) Still, they seem ergonomically similar, so I will manage.

( numbers )

Cross-posted from Dreamwidth (http://redbird.dreamwidth.org/1180813.html), where there are comments. Please comment here, there, or both.

Apparently seeing a person as multifaceted human beings with both virtues and sins, having the ability to contribute to a community in a positive manner, and not jumping on the vilification bandwagon is a cardinal sin in the radical activist community if the person is accused of rape and abuse.

I am glad we have so many progressive, open minded and thoughtful people who are willing to have conversations around sensitive topics working toward social justice.

*sigh*

I guess it is another indicator that radical activism communities are things I should stay far away from considering I'm quite aware that I am far from perfect myself. And that places such as Camp Trans and the communities involved with it are probably not open and welcoming spaces for me.

Latest word is that he has not had another stroke. It was a seizure, so they are giving him anti-seizure meds, keeping him in the hospital for a couple of days, and waiting for a neurologist to look at and evaluate CAT scans. The seizure is likely to have been produced by artifacts of the stroke.

He has speech, though he is unhappy at being in the hospital—this is an entirely normal and healthy reaction to being in a hospital unexpectedly. Velma also reports him being somewhat drugged-drowsy from the seizure meds; this is, unfortunately, also normal, especially for the high dose that I infer the doctors have given Soren.

TNH just posted on Making Light that baldanders may be having another stroke. And she wanted the word spread, so I am.

We wait, and hope. I will update as I know more.

ETA: 7:52: They’re at New York Methodist Hospital.

NY Methodist is good; that's where Soren was last year.

ETA 9:27 pm: Elise reports "Update: just heard he's lucid and bitching mightily about wanting to go home. This is a VERY good sign, I am told. Also, Velma says everybody should get some sleep."

Cross-posted from Dreamwidth (http://redbird.dreamwidth.org/1180227.html), where there are comments. Please comment here, there, or both.