been reading: Into The Mirror: The Life Of Master Spy Robert P. Hanssen by Lawrence Schiller

It should come as no surprise that I am fascinated by Robert Hanssen, a man who is considered the most damaging US spy because of decades' worth of documents he sold to the KGB. I am, after all, captivated by all things spy. And double agents in particular intrigue me. This is partly because on Alias, double (and even triple!) agents are everywhere you turn, and anything in real life that resembles Alias is hella cool. (You know, in a bad traitory way.) And it's partly because double agents are super-spies. They are, after all, spying on spies. I mean, is that not awesome?!

I picked up this particular book because it was $5 at a discount book fair. I've heard there are better books about Hanssen, and I don't doubt it. I had some issues with this one, mostly to do with reliability. It wasn't always clear where the authors got their information. In particular, there were many scenes with just Hanssen or with Hanssen and his wife and I couldn't help but wonder if those scenes were at all based on fact or just purely fiction. I then couldn't help but carry this doubt into the rest of the book. Obviously any book of this sort takes some liberties in the storytelling; I guess I would have preferred that it be written not as a story at all but instead as a factual account of what is known. Still, the book did provide a gripping (and I think for the most part accurate) glimpse into the mind of Hanssen. He is a character conflicted and contradictory to the point of being Shakespearean. And yet he isn't a character; he is a real man. It gives me chills.

I finished the book this weekend and on Sunday we went to see Breach which is the movie about Hanssen that's currently in theatres. While the book concentrated much more on Hanssen's psyche and perspective, the movie focuses on the Bureau's efforts to bring him down, filling in the gaps left by the book. Yet in the film Chris Cooper does a phenomenal job portraying Hanssen's inner tensions and motivations.

There's much I could say about the fact that Hanssen was in Opus Dei and the role I believe his religious views may have played in his quest for power and control and superiority. I'll refrain, except to say that what becomes quite clear is that not only did Hanssen spend decades deceiving his nation, he has also spent a lifetime deceiving himself.

I have had at least one doctor's appointment every week for the past two months, since the beginning of 2007. I've had a sonogram and xrays and so many blood tests I've lost count. Just this week I had a scope inserted through my nose and down into my throat. There's more, including several medications (and one allergic reaction) blahdy blah blah. I'm tired of talking about it.

My doctor has been "puzzled" and in fact the worst part for me has been the not knowing. I really appreciate those of you who've been wondering and worrying and waiting with me.

I am very relieved to say that I'm feeling much better now. My doctor suspects a bacterial infection was the culprit. It's an anticlimactic conclusion, and I'm just fine with that. It doesn't explain all the symptoms I had, so I may have some more appointments in my future. But the current diagnosis is that I'm healthy. And until there's evidence to suggest otherwise, I'm going to go with that. I'm a little shaken up, a bit weary from it all, but feeling great and so grateful.

And so empathetic - several people I care about aren't well yet and have endured much more than I had to with this. I think about you each day and I will continue to maintain hope.

Here's to March and the renewal a new month brings.

been reading: The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields

Recommended to me by SG, this is the story of a woman's life, from before her birth until after her death. It is also the story of the people around her, and in many ways we learn more about them than we do Daisy Goodwill. Other than her dramatic birth and a catastrophic honeymoon, not much out of the ordinary happens in Daisy's life. And really, not much happens in the novel. The intrigue is in the inner minds of the characters - their hopes for themselves and struggles with desires. I felt the strongest scenes were two during which we have access to the stream of conscious thoughts of the characters as they approach death. During her father's final moments, he tries to remember the name of Daisy's long-deceased mother, a woman he was devoted to even decades after she died. It is a profoundly simple passage, so human. And Daisy's death I found painfully realistic, found myself thinking, "Yes, this is what dying would be like."

The beauty of the book is that nothing is completely spelled out. The storytelling slips back and forth from omniscient 3rd person to Daisy's voice. Things are suggested and characters' opinions are stated, but the reader is often left to draw her own conclusions. Even the characters themselves seem uncertain about their own motivations. In these ways the book felt very true to life.

One day last week while I was sick with the stomach flu, it snowed. I wasn't going in to work at all, and Rob was planning to go in late. But around 8:00 that morning, one of his co-workers who lives nearby called to say that he couldn't get out of his steep driveway and so he was going to walk to our house and catch a ride to work with Rob. In fact, he was already on his way.

Rob was in his robe and hadn't showered or anything, so he started rushing around to get ready. I was still in bed. You know, sick. So I said to Rob, "I'm staying here until you all leave. Okay?" I hadn't showered in days, and I still felt awful. I didn't want the dude to see me. "You'd better hurry in the shower," I told Rob, "because if he comes while you're in there, I am NOT going to answer the door. Seriously - I won't."

Rob muttered okay and closed the bedroom door behind him. Then I heard him go out onto the deck, presumably to check the conditions of our driveway. Not 30 seconds later I heard a knock on the front door. I ignored it. There was a pause, then another knock on the door. I knew Rob couldn't hear it because he was out on the deck, but I figured he'd come back in any moment now. And, besides, it didn't matter because I was NOT going to answer the door.

There was a third knock on the door. And then a fourth. Where the hell was Rob? Still, I made no move to answer the door. If they were both outside, surely they'd find each other eventually. And truly, getting up to answer the door was not an option. In no way could I quickly become presentable. If it was my mom, it would be one thing. But I was not going to greet Rob's co-worker in my scary-haired, sickly, unshowered state.

With the fifth knock on the door, I sighed and rolled my eyes, but snuggled further under the sheet. A minute passed, and then something caused me to look up, and I startled. There was Rob, standing outside our bedroom window. In his robe. Looking quite cold. And quite disgruntled.

Dumbass had locked himself out. Turns out he'd gone out onto the front porch, not the deck, and the door locked behind him. Brilliant, huh? (Okay fine, I've done this same thing before myself...)

And the best part is? Right at that moment his co-worker arrived. Just in time to see Rob standing in the snow in his robe and slippers, trying to convince his wife to let him in.

At class this evening, I was the only one who turned in the reflective journals. Apparently even when I'm not trying to be an overachiever, I still am.

I'm taking a class this semester for my teaching recertification - I never intend to return to the classroom, but having a feasible fallback plan is essential to my peace of mind. Once renewed, my teaching certificate will be good for another five years and I figure in that amount of time surely I'll have figured out what I want to do with my life. Um, right.

Anyway, we are supposed to keep a reflective journal each week, which we turn in midway through the semester, and again at the end. Midway through the semester is this Thursday. We should have six journals to hand in this Thursday.

I have....none. So far. Well, I sorta started one a few minutes ago, right before switching over to this post. Priorities, people.

The thing is, with most school stuff I'm not a procrastinator. In college I studied days in advance of a test. And I would start a paper two weeks before the due date, writing multiple rough drafts and editing like only an OCD perfectionist can, and then giving myself several days to step away from it before returning to tweak the final draft.

But with reflective journals (which are quite popular in education programs), I have always waited until the last minute. Because they seem so easy. I mean, an assignment to critically analyze a work of literature is intimidating; it requires time to be properly polished. But a reflective journal? Pfft, I think. It's a journal. One in which I reflect. Page here, page there. Piece of cake.

Except when you wait until the last minute to write your six reflective journals, suddenly you have 6-12 pages of content to create. On multiple topics. Topics you can't even freaking remember because those classes were weeks ago.

Still, how bad can it be? I mean, you're a smart person. You have thoughts. You reflect. And you write well, so 6-12 pages shouldn't take more than....what? Two hours, maybe? And this is only Tuesday night, after all. Thursday is, like, so far away. There is plenty of time to read blogs and catch up on email and watch tv. Tomorrow evening you can write the journals. Right after you pick up the car from the mechanic and bake scones for the bread share and call your best friend. Seriously, the time? You are luxuriating in it.

Well then. I think maybe I'll turn in early tonight.