Tear In My Heart

Wow.  No posts since February?  What's up with that?

I'll tell you what's up with that.

Who am I?

What do I stand for?

Is it a political party? A union?  An organization?

None of the above.

It's flowers from a friend you just met, who also loves vintage books, maps, and postcards.  Laughing with friends over a broken blender and other things.  Laughing so hard you thing you need to pee. That laughter. When was the last time you had it?  Can't remember? You need it. You need it now.  

I like to think I support people, in so many ways.  But what disturbs me?  Traditional ways bring on entitlement.  Yes.  You may look at me, the white girl driving the Volvo.  But when I speak Spanish, or a vernacular not my own?  I try.  I may have grown up in the 'burbs of Boston, but don't always judge a book by it's cover.  Just sayin'.  I have been blessed that so many people out in the neighborhoods embrace me and speak to me in Spanish.  So awesome.  A shoutout to the Savers in Framingham who asked if my family was from Argentina!  

More to come. So many thoughts...

Friday's Fragments - #1

So, I've decided to start posting my randomness every Friday, even if I don't do a real blog post.  Why? Because I do want to start writing again, but have all these random thoughts in my head.  Aren't you lucky?

Here are the things that are floating around. There are a bunch for a vacation week.  The inability to focus completely kicked in. Instead of doing my adulting things that were necessities, I focused on cleaning closets.  And the garage.  And finding TIDE in one of the kidlet's cars.  TIDE! Unused!  Two bottles of it! Travesty!

I collect TIDE.  No joke.  I kid around with my dad that if there's ever a zombie apocalypse or national emergency (no - NOT a wall needed!) I will be prepared with TIDE.  Everyone has "their thing."  Mine just happens to be a laundry project.

I love this Taylor Swift song...

"They're burning all the witches even if you aren't one

They got their pitchforks and proof, their receipts and reasons

They're burning all the witches even if you aren't one

So light me up (Light me up), light me up (Light me up)"

How's that for pop music?  Adore it.  Oh yes.  Very true to our political climate, ne c'est pas?

And here I've jumped onto politics! Yes! MausiGal is going political in 2020!  If you aren't on board with my views, that's cool.  I appreciate that.  I won't scream in your face what I believe.  I'll treat you with respect as long as you treat me with respect - along with my friends who are of different cultures, races, those from the LGBT+ community, ages all around (don't hate on millennials and do not hate on elders.  Learn from ALL!), and any gender identity.  Classism sucks.  Stop being a snob. Be thankful for what you have and give back.

I'm all for the Bern in 2020.  Why?  He's passionate.  He comes from a working class family.  Bernie back in 1963 was arrest for pleading the cause for equality. Listen to him speak.  There's fire there.  Ok.  My Bern post for the week is complete.

On another note, I laughed / felt horrible / this was classic when I heard what happened when Kirsten Gillibrand was speaking and was interrupted by someone looking for ranch dressing! Let's face it. Running for President must be 1,000,000 times worse than running for middle school student council president.  Not only will they call out your zits, but they'll slander your family, call your dog / cat / fish fat, and ask for tax returns.  But in middle school you only have a cool pencil case (or lack thereof)!  So imagine you're giving this rocking speech, and someone approaches you? I'd be pumped.  And then they want to know where the ranch (ick!) dressing is?  Me? I probably would have burst out laughing and told the person they needed to go with Vidalia Onion.  Ever have that stuff? It's amazing.  No joke.  Ranch is so yesterday.  Then I would have gone on a tangent about salad dressings, and the audience would either be 1) laughing hysterically thinking it was a comedy show; or 2) wondering why I was running for President because I was discussing condiments; or 3) me wondering if salad dressing is a condiment.  Has the Presidency become a comedy show?  Should I run? I am over 35, after all.

I'm off to go organize my desk that Parkour Guy helped set up.  On an IKEA note, what the heck is going on with this diagram? His hand behind his back? That grin???? Thoughts?

So Weird It's Attractive

Um, yeah.  I just tried to Google fun images for flirting and dating. Well, wasn't that an epic fail!  The above one I think just fits me perfectly.  Different.  Original.   Unique.  However, no one wants a misshapen avocado in the supermarket when they want to make that perfect guacamole, do they?

I've posted things over the years about my online dating experiences.  What have I learned?  That people are unique, just like me. I understand that not all of us can match up in this huge haystack called life.  However, at the same time, one starts to see that online dating brings you to people that completely clash with your ideals - whether those be religious, political, or to your soul.  Let's go beyond the boxes of favorite music, whether you work out every day, and if you are vegan or not.

Does online dating work? Supposedly.  A recent search said between 17-20% of all marriages start off online.  That's a pretty cool percentage.  But out in the trenches?  As a soon to be fifty something mujer?  Ah hahahahaha.  Let me tell you.  It goes beyond ghosting.

As an empath, I tend to attract those who want help.  So what have I had? Those who have no jobs at the age of 45.  Or those who are completely broke.  Nope.  After two dates, I just cannot do it.   I understand many people go through a flux in life, but I'm not willing (honestly) to start a relationship at that point. Maybe some other people are?  That's great.  Not me.  I truly, truly detest those who spring this info on to you on the third date, after stating in their profiles that they're employed at such and such an industry.

We all have our quirks, me included.  Seriously? Let's look at MausiGal's:

• Swede Mobiles
• Converse Sneakers
• Music that includes Rap and Alternative
• Swearing at odd moments (yup, sorry)
• Liberal to an extreme at times
• Little Black Dress? Screw that.
• Cats and dogs and fish!
• Too much caffeine to count

But I've met people who freaked when I told them I was so comfortable with my friend at Temple.  Another when I said I did indeed own my own home.

One guy, I think, hit the nail on the head this summer when he said I truly should do an hour on The Moth radio.  "Your personality. It's just so big. And I can't handle it."

How do you walk away from that? Seriously?  Do I give up, as my mom suggests, and just be content with friends and family?

Time to throw in the towel?

Goodbye. Please. Just Leave, 2018!

"I will never believe in anything again..."

-Coffee's For Closers, Fall Out Boy

I went into 2018 like one of those motivational posters - smiling, optimistic, full of a love of life.  I bet I made a lot of people vomit.  I had one of the best teaching years of my career.  I was pumped. I felt like I was making a difference.  I wanted to take change to another level.

What happened? At the age of forty-nine I grew up.  I saw that personal ideals - no matter how good and pure they seem to be - can be manipulated and mocked.  I listened as people blamed national politics for the downfall of America while they themselves swore at strangers in parking lots for getting the space they wanted.  Anger. Greed.  Those who are entitled used systems in place to help those in need to just make themselves, well, more entitled.  Am I talking about Washington, DC? No. I am talking about your own backyard.  I was suddenly the naive one.  The woman who always thought with her experience with gang members and going to the Ecuadorian Amazon made her tough.  Dealing with privileged, white people?  Hah.  Nothing, NOTHING prepared me for that battle. 

"I'm Miss World. Watch me break and watch me burn."

-Miss World, Hole

Yes.  I'm the one with the Volvo obsession who owns a home.  Mocking me for my own privilege?  Please do.  I grapple with it constantly.  So many don't know my own back story.  Why would you ask?  You have your own. 

I am approaching fifty in about twenty-five days.  Half a century. I read works by Mother Theresa.  Listen to Kanye.  Look at art by Giotto.  Drive miles upon miles in order to process thoughts.  How can I make change?  I try to do this through the classroom, but lately I feel that it's futile.  I need to do more.  I worked with a political campaign this past fall which was rewarding.  The candidate was truly someone I believed in, for the first time I can remember.  Real.  Intelligent.  Analytical.  Not a pawn. 

I am so fortunate to have friends all over the globe to discuss this with. You know you who are.  There are days where I think about grabbing my passport and checking the quarantine times for pets to move - and learn Dutch or German or Swedish.  But then my thoughts go to my father and grandfather - both proud veterans - who believed in this country.  I am the stubborn, risk-taking, at times mouthy person I am because of them.  The woman who stops in the street to talk to someone about the donuts he just bought on Christmas Day.  Who offers to carry groceries for an elderly person to their car at the supermarket.  And confront a guy at the post office who accused her of parking in a handicapped spot.  Yeah, dude. You messed with the wrong chica that day.  Do.not.take.me.on.  I refuse to be fodder for someone's anger. I will treat you with respect, but please.  Respect. 

2018 was not a total loss, please know. I met some incredible people this year that I hope will be friends for years to come.  I reconnected with a few people as well, who mean so much to me.  All of you are rock stars, and I hope it's ok that I tell you on a frequent basis. When I finally go to get that tattoo, I'll know who to call.  ;)

My kidlets.  Kidlet A and Kidlet B.  The discussions.  There are no two other people in the world who challenge me so.  And as many half-soda cans may be left, I love them to the moon and back.  I don't know if I'll ever find anyone else who understands me the way they do.  Philosophy.  Current events.  History. Dank memes.  Music.  Road trips. 

So, here we are.  Get the eff out, 2018.  I am ready for 2019.  No expectations.  Openness.  Me.  Haters gonna hate.  Bring on the change.  Live for the moment. And as my dad always says, "Keep the faith."

Beginning Again...

I've been sick - out sick - for five days as of today from school.  It's been an awful run.  I think I was this sick about five years ago, but don't know officially.  All I know is the Z-Pack is now my official love of my life.  After two installments I feel so much better.  Medicine #3, and it's a charm.

I've had lots of time while out sick to think about things.  Like why my current car is named "Eleven."  I finally realized the Stranger Things reference. Hot damn.  Could I get a Volvo / Stranger Things endorsement?  I could so be their poster child.  Some days I think about how I should have gone into advertising.  My odd ideas?  Not so odd when presented on the internet.  Derp is as derp does.

I've debated whether or not to post what's going on.  Whether or not to share the "secret blog." Nope. Not going to.  But what do I want to say?  I'm scared.  I have friends on both sides of the political fence.  And you know what?

That's. OK.

I am so sad that people don't talk anymore.  Eff it. I'm not talking ONLINE. Go to a coffee shop.  Pick up the phone.  Stop by their house (with their permission - don't be a stalker on my account!).  Engage in conversation.  We are all so upset and angry and misunderstood.  Me included.  Please take the time to reach out to people - even your own FAMILY MEMBERS - and talk in person.  Why? Because we need to go back to knowing people face to face.

I love my friends I've never met. I have so many friends through Postcrossing.com that I converse with on great topics. I someday hope to meet them.  But at the same token, I want to support those close to me who need the help the most.  This includes family.  Friends.  Students.  Colleagues.  Will I get a tweet or an award for the work I've done? Probably not.  But I don't care.  I want you to know that I am there.  The times we are in are awful. There is misinformation on both sides.  Hatred everywhere.  I just saw an article about how young people don't want to vote.

A few (well, more than that!) I started to become involved on a larger level to make change.  But you know what? I saw that the system runs deep.  I don't have the energy to take on the system.  I'm an empath.  Things hit me hard.  But, at the same token, I have a memory that never forgets (one of my students called me an elephant - lol. EEK! Need to hit the gym pronto! jk - he's a great kid). I so admire people who are in politics and taking on the issues that are so tough.  Earlier in the season I came out in support of Alexandra Chandler.  She was one of the first candidates I felt seemed real.  I met her on my front lawn. Yeah.  Follow her.  Because my guess is she is going to come up again as someone who will make change, in some way, here in the US.

I need to focus on family now. With two family members and a very close friend ill, I want them at the forefront.  They truly are the reason why I keep going.  I don't talk about it a lot, but for those of you at my school who have peeked behind my desk, you may have seen the pics.  My dad. My niece.  My friend, L.  I hope they know each and every day why I go to work and keep doing what I do to bring their message to the forefront.

This is tough for me.  I love you all with all my heart.  My kidlets (as always, F & R - rock stars) are at the top of the list, and others that follow.  Dad, E, and L. You have all taught me what it means to be giving.  To be a nice person.  And to love.

Coffee's for Closers

I guess I was surprised when Kidlet A told me Fall Out Boy wrote most of the songs I relate to when they were in their twenties.  Here I am in my late 40's, thinking about serious things to their lyrics.  That's what literature / arts / music / theatre is all about though, right? Relating to those across generations, races, experiences, time.  This one.  Over and over again.

It took me a long time to understand the lyrics "I will never believe in anything again."  But you know what?  I get it now.  And it's not a depressing standpoint. It's more so one of being an individual and standing true to what YOU believe in.  So often with social media, the news, politics, people in general we are faced to be what we aren't.  I always laugh when people tell me middle school years are the toughest.  Seriously?  These kids know the TRUTH.  And I hope to empower them to express it.  Adults are the ones with the baggage.  The horror to express who they are for fear of being different from their neighbors, or 500+ Facebook and Instagram friends.  I wish Andy Warhol was alive to comment on all of this.  No wonder our kids struggle like crazy with identity.  Have we looked at ourselves as adults? It's about time... 

Coffee's for Closers

Fall Out Boy

I can't explain a thing
I want everything
To change and stay the same on top
Doesn't care about anyone or anything
Now come together, come apart
Only get lonely when you read the charts

Oh baby, when they made me
They broke the mold
Girls used to follow me around
Then I got cold

Throw your cameras in the air
And wave 'em like you just don't care
I will never believe in anything again
I will never believe in anything again
Oh change will come
Oh change will come
I will never believe in anything again
We never believe again
Kick drum beating in my chest again
Oh we will never believe again
Preach electric to a microphone stand

Oh, I'm a mascot for what you've become
And oh, oh, I love the mayhem more than the love
And oh baby, when they made me
They broke the mold
Girls used to follow me around
When I got cold

Throw your cameras in the air
And wave 'em like you just don't care
I will never believe in anything again
I will never believe in anything again
Oh change will come
Oh change will come
I will never believe in anything again
We never believe again
Kick drum beating in my chest again
Oh we will never believe again
Preach electric to a microphone stand

Oh, throw your cameras in the air
And wave 'em 'cause I just don't care
Oh, throw your cameras in the air
And wave 'em 'cause I just don't care

Throw your cameras in the air
And wave 'em like you just don't care
I will never believe in anything again
I will never believe in anything again
Oh change will come
Oh change will come
I will never believe in anything again
We never believe again
Kick drum beating in my chest again
Oh we will never believe again
Preach electric to a microphone stand

I will never believe in anything again
I will never believe in anything again
Oh, change will come
Oh, change will come
I will never believe in anything again
I will never believe in anything again

We will never believe again
Kickdrum beating in my chest again
Oh we will never believe again
Preach electric to a microphone stand
We will never believe again
Kickdrum beating in my chest again
Oh we will never believe again
Preach electric to a microphone stand
We will never believe again
Kickdrum beating in my chest again
Oh we will never believe again
Preach electric to a microphone stand

Songwriters: Andrew Hurley / Joseph Trohman / Patrick Stump / Peter Wentz

(Coffee’s for Closers) lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Cinco de Abuela

Cinco de mayo. Today is the anniversary of the passing of my grandmother, Rita Berg. My students often say,"Why don't we celebrate Cinco de mayo?" Other than the fact that it's not a major Mexican holiday, this date always brings me back to Nana. This year I told my amazing students this, and told them why she still lives on in me.

Nana was the reason why I pledged Delta Gamma. For those who knew me from childhood through high school, I wasn't exactly typical sorority material. I didn't exactly gravitate towards female groups. I was content when younger hanging out with the brothers, riding around Chelmsford on our bikes, checking out massive eighteen wheelers behind Skip's and picking through garbage on trash day for our forts. When I went through recruitment at college I saw this as an experience, until the philanthropy part of Delta Gamma. I was hooked the moment I heard the group focused on Service for Sight. As my grandmother was blind from Usher's Syndrome, the group's mission called out to me. I honestly didn't care about anything else they told me when I pinned on the Pi Alpha pin as a new member. I remember this was the first thing I told Nana and Grampy about when I informed them I had joined a sorority.

Nana loved reading. No, she couldn't "see" words on a page but her books on tape took her more places than I will ever go. I still have one of her favorite Kristin Hannah cassette titles upstairs on my bookshelf. We would discuss stories for hours. She was my soulmate when it came to sharing the wonders we felt when we experienced tales others had told. Both of us could experience people and places, learn so much, without ever leaving our homes. For her this became her life. For me it was the beginning of an adventure that would lead me to help others find their own paths. I saw how books were Nana's escape, her outlet to a world beyond her own and essential to who she was. Words held power like no other. Now today, I use words - in both Spanish and English - to help others go forth and become powerful as well.

Her laugh. I still hear it. The sound was somewhat of a giggle but not so much. The laugh was uniquely hers, and she would try to cover up her mouth with her hand. The smile was always present not at her mouth, at her eyes, but her whole body when she was happy. Her cheeks would light up. Nana felt truly happiness.

When I heard about her passing on Cinco de mayo, I'll admit I saw a bit of irony in it. Being a Spanish teacher and so connected to the Hispanic culture, I knew I would always remember the anniversary of my grandmother's death. I joked with my eighth grade students about this awkward thought on Friday. But that day, so many years ago, I knew immediately I had to come home, to return to the family that had formed so much of me which I had try to deny, saying that Kristin was unique, herself. In reality I had been formed by so many influences by blood.

On this Cinco de mayo once again I live her legacy, sharing laughter of my own in which you can hear traces of Rita. A giggle, a smile, and hope.