Thanksgiving revisited and exogamous marriages

Adrian posted photos! (even though I can't stand to see myself, everyone else looks fab)

http://homepage.mac.com/adrianbarnett/PhotoAlbum24.html

And I have thanks to give. Yes, indeed. Kicked that last puppy's butt last night. Done IS good, and well done, even better. I had doubts about completing this first quarter, and while yes, I still have one more pile of papers to grade for my readership, I actually did my _own_ work first! Submitted my first book review for possible publication (?) Was convinced by A. that I must get over this stupid car fear and drive (she'll help!), finished and polilshed beastly bibliography project. Here is the benefit, and the reason for this being the first thing we have to do (makes sense... I guess... humbly admitting defeat), I now finally feel absolutely comfortable in the bibliotheque... and I can whip off a works cited page in no time flat. (Mental atrophy is a horrid thing, I swear!) As evidenced by yesterday's brilliance. After meeting to complete the "Call for Papers" and to receive my castigo... I sat and wrote and wrote and wrote, and from my fingers sprung forth a reasonably passable project proposal for a sociolinguistic study of code negotiation in exogamous marriages. I like that word. Exogamous. much classier than bigamous or poligamous or... gulp... monogamous...

Isabella was singing when I got home. Hanukah, hanukah... ocho días de cantar... hanukah, hanukah, ocho días de bailar.
Carefully engineered curriculum planning or dumb-luck? You have to love a child-care setting that is so diverse, her best friend at school is Pakistani, and has almost the same name, but from a totally unrealted source. She had been waiting all day to light candles with me and "celebrate" Hanukah. Such a strange construction. At least not a gawdy as a traditional American x-mas. The consumerism of the season makes me ill, which is why Isabella's gift was a second hand (gorgeous) Indian puppet, to match the one brought by the "reyes" last year on their way across the middle east - having brought (I wish) upon Isabella's selfless request, food and medicine and toys to the children in Africa who were sick and needed more than she.

Her idea of celebration was reading a book on the story of hanukah. Only, as I was reading it (a thing which I have neglected of late:( ), it was all about war, and killing and knocking down statues and "freedom". The rhetoric made me more than a little annoyed. Why does it always have to be about one group of people subjugating another? Why can't people just get over themselves? As an assimilated jew, is my constant sense of "otherness" a genetic defect or a cultural one? Do we always have to construct ourselves as other??? Horrible. None of that. I am so over it! Right, Ilana, whatever you say.

The happiness bug is creeping back in. Holding hands with the playful one. I look to my left and there is (albeit snuffly) Isabella cracking a smile, wider, wider... Just holding her in my arms makes the world seem right, if only for a few fleeting minutes. I will rob happiness from these moments, the masked bandit... queen of my own universe... I am thankful for life and the chance to fuck it up every day:)