Life as a work of art/ In my little town

"We" are what we've got to work with. (So let's not make it Guernica!)

I often think of "My Little Town," it always haunted me, because it is haunting, sad and soothing, and sad. Popping up here and there with sense of place and the idea of roots and belonging, if belonging has a physical place. I thought until now that it repeated at the end, "Nothing but the dead of night in my little town." Over and over. As if everywhere was unified by the silence of the dead of night and the absence of people on the street, quiet. The dead of night was peaceful. It's on the stereo now, Mr. F. just put it on. Mr. F. said it says, "Nothing but the dead and dying in my little town." Now that goes from wistful to morbid.

Wow, changed my inner soundtrack. He looked up the lyrics.

L.A., Shanghai, they have more going on than dead and dying! "Nothing but the dead of night in my little town," I'm sticking with my lyrics. Shanghai begins with the same letter as "surreal." Not a coincidence these days. For the first time, tonight the Behemoth across from our living room balcony is lit up in a few columns on the left side. If you look in the archive for August and you'll see the daytime photo of the Behemoth. (I like Merriam Webster as online dictionaries go.)

I'm so tired. We had workers hanging on ropes outside our window on Sunday morning, drilling right into our ears. I yelled out the window in English. Mr. F. called our landlord's sister-in-law who speaks English after I ranted about it being illegal and calling the police. She said, "No, call the Housing Bureau."

Apparently we had been warned on a chalkboard slate in the lobby by the elevators but alas, we don't read Chinese, yet.

Then last night we tried to go to sleep early and tossed and turned. I woke up in a panic, my arm numb from having slept in such a way that cut off circulation. Mr. F. said I was shrieking, and then said that I wasn't when I asked, "Really?" but I probably was, because I couldn't get feeling in my arm for the longest time. He was consoling, but then he was up for the next two hours.

The cab came fifteen minutes early. I barely had coffee, dressed up for my orientation presentation to students but dashed out with no make up; my bags were already packed and I had one cup of coffee, made a sandwich to avoid the awful university cafeteria food. Such a bad start gave rise to the idea that I had to stop digging up the roots and work with what I have. The urgency and spontaneous voice dulled by the tiredness of days and years without choice.

I'm beat. Today was orientation day for my university/college. I thought I was rather smartly dressed in a beautiful chocolate and black silk but for some reason when I stood up people laughed. I wouldn't be the first foreigner to dress in traditional ("old fashioned?") Chinese clothes, I mean it wasn't a slit to my waist qipao.

A colleague recommended the Chinese students reconsider their names if they want to be taken seriously in their careers. I had a "Hellboy" once and a "Terminator." Now there are girls who named themselves "Kitty" for "Hello Kitty" but most are sane.

The students were so rude, talked through the C.E.O.'s opening speech. I'm not conservative but I'm going to read them about the slave jobs they'll have to look forward to if they are rude and/or don't pay attention.

We are planning an ambitious curriculum that we can't quite get to work on, with the interruptions of having to teach another teacher's course this week when we should be grading and writing the scope of work. No printers, no connectivity. Still working out schedules, that keep being revised. Why grade, we were supposed to group based on assessment and we walked out to find that groups had been posted. Now we have to move students around.

I'm dull, it was hot last week and now it is damp and rainy. On Yan An Lu, I lifted my long skirt and crawled through the fences that edge the sidewalk to the street to get a recently freed up cab. There was no opening, it was raining, it was a great chance, not to be missed.

Getting paid to work with high level engineers, execs and educators with high level problem solving and wherewithal is very cool. Team work with people with initiative very cool, indeed.