Facebook Politics

Mr. dd is a facebook slut. He has over 800 friends so I think he can't be very discriminating! Still...

This am I crank up my sizzling laptop (it really sizzles like its shorting out - please help(!) and I log into FB to discover a friend request from a once ubercool trustafarian* artist friend who has collaborated with Annie Sprinkle and who dated all the coolest dudes before she married, had a kid and moved to NYC or the Hamptons or wherever. Happy to know she is still kicking and that her daughter looks even more impish than her.

Mr. dd walks in the door and I ask "Guess who asked me to be their friend?" He answered immediately the name of another aquaintance who we've both been ignoring on FB due to their stranger than fiction and generally annoying character. And I said, no, not that person. And Mr. dd said well I just got another message from"THAT person" saying friendship is only "one click away!"

I laughed and laughed and laughed since this person we've been ignoring on FB truly has no boundaries (especially after their sex change operation)... and who will say anything to anybody regardless of the consequence. (a little too wreckless for my taste) so I continued laughing and almost became the FB friend of said aquaintance for giving me such a good laugh in the morning. Still something to consider.....

Then I said "No...so and so wants to be my friend(!) and is actually considering getting a real job" and Mr dd said "well that says something about the economy"... He's so funny. I guess that's why everyone wants to be Mr. dd's friend.

*trustafarian is Mr. dd's name for all the people we know who live off their trust funds. He said we should hire our trustafarian friend to clean our house and document it as a performance piece. Not a bad idea if we could pay her in books and art.... if only!

Twist of Fate

I witnessed this outside my door in Bavaria. I have a thing for the snails there and it inspired me to learn a few things about them. The can live 10 - 15 years... and when they mate, as they are doing here, each snail gets pregnant and has baby snails. My, how the world would be different if the same were true of humans.

Yesterday began with positive steps toward the future.
I paid my bills, returned a deposit, addressed a long standing debt, did hard labor on a property I share with two other artists and returned my contracts for my summer classes.

Ahhh.. and timing is everything. The director of the program wasn't in so I asked the security guard if I could slide it under her door. Fine, she said. After making my way to the staff offices I decided to take a peek at the current show and was looking at some printworks when I heard voices behind me. It was the staff returning from their lunch. Oh, so good to see you, I chimed. I turned in my contract and wanted to inquire about fall classes.

Ah, I am sorry but I am all booked up for the fall, director said... I said, really? Nothing? (I've been away but have tried to keep up with these essential matters via email.)

Well, it seems, she said So and So, my boss, doesn't want me to use you anymore. She's really mad because you missed those classes earlier this year. But I was at a funeral, I explained. "Oh, there was something else, another class. She doesn't want me to include you on the schedule.
I know it is terrible about your sister but there is nothing I can do. She runs the program. Please don't mention it to her or call her. You've always done good work for me and I'll try to introduce you again at a later date."

I was in tears at this point, hurridly wiping them away. I love teaching in this program, you see. I do. It pays better than anywhere else and has a certain amount of cache. I've been teaching there longer than ten years. Normally when someone loses a family member their employer sends a letter of condolence or flowers. Here you lose your job.

I neglected to cancel the class, you see. I was in a state of shock...
but it doesn't matter. I am not sure I will want to work for them anymore anyway... I guess I am tired of being kicked around but I don't really know what to do with these feelings... hence the time I am investing sharing them here.

Its always this way, tho. I return from something wonderful... have an experience that gives me hope... and possibilities... and then return home to be kicked in the stomach by my boss. It happens over and over so it must be me. Perhaps I just need to be a farmer or have my own business. I don't play politic very well. I can do it but it is not my forte, obviously.

When I returned from my sabbatical and then a near fatal car accident back in the mid 90's (I cracked several vertebrae, ribs and fractured my hip) the director of the program I was teaching in told me stories my students had shared with him (that I got high with other faculty from another university... not true... europeans roll their own cigarettes) and other things he knew would hurt my feelings. He was angry that I had been away, had a wonderful experience and then came home and had to take sick leave to recover from this accident. He was a small man. A very small man. And of course I was disappointed in the students. I shared something with them that meant a great deal to me... working in a place I loved... and they were just rotten spoiled, to the core.

C'est la vie.
Art and family are the only things that matter to me.