By the way (teaching)

The children are coming in three working days, two of which are all meetings. I'm nervous.

This could be the reason + King Kong (teaching + random)

It is currently 5:38 am and my brain has pushed me awake again. Yesterday, I was thinking about the bulletin boards in my classroom (a source of a great range of emotion for many a teacher). Today, it was my count of the day (just realized I did not designate a space while simultaneously deciding to use coins to reinforce money equivalents). These thoughts are not exactly rocket science but currently they are a pretty big deal in my world. But really, 5 a.m. is not the best time to be doing this thinking. To me, this seems like very good mid-afternoon thought. You know, that time of day you almost could take a nap; your mind is open to loose connections that may bring you to an unexpected idea. It seems, while at school, my brain is so preoccupied by other things, I need to wake up early-early to think. I spent the first two years of my teaching life in a state of moderate-to-severe sleepiness. I think this idea of using sleeping time as thinking time could very well be the reason.

On another note, I walked past the Empire State Building last night (it was between my friend's house and the subway I decided to take home). It was a very cloudy night. Because NYC is lit up like Christmas all of the time, it was very bright outside. The top of the Empire State Building was alternating between actually covered by clouds and seeming like it was closer than it actually is because the clouds caused some crazy back-lit deal. During my walk, I decided that the combination of these effects would have been perfect for the old-school King Kong to do his thing.

Fraidy Cat (life)

So, I'm up. It's early. I have to go to school for the first
time...well, for the first time since I left for the wonderful,
wonderful summer. I'm home alone. Then, there was a knock
on my door.

Dum, dum, dum, duhm.

It sounded like someone was knocking on my door and I kind of freaked out, in that
little jump in your chest, hold your breath kind of way. I quietly
went down my steps to look to see if anyone was
in the hallway. There was no one. But, I still locked another lock.

Readjustment to life, parenthetically (life).

I’ve been back in my apartment long enough to face some readjustment to life in NY after my summer away. I just realized, I now have a list of things I love and a list of things that are not exactly cutting it…so, I wanted to share. [I was going to call this love it/hate it…but, upon rereading, that seemed overly dramatic.]

• Random, yet extensive, conversation with people in stores about how great something is—love it. [This one was about an 80 year old man who works in Stop in Shop and was giving what can only be called shout outs in some language I could not identify to everyone as he ducked behind the deli counter.]
• Random, yet extensive, anger that is ever present—not so much.
• Being around friends I have not seen all summer—love it.
• Finding parking at their house or waiting a very long time for the subway to come (for a subway ride that you would walk if it wasn’t so late, by the way)—not so much.
• Walking from here to there and feeling like you’ve interacted with half the cultures of the world—love it.
• Walking from here to there and knowing you have not worn the proper layering combination and that your bag is too small to fit the 3 changes of outfits you will probably need to make on the walk—not so much.
• The fact that I have what seems like millions of good restaurants and grocery stores right around the corner from my apartment—love it.
• The fact that the rain has kept me from wanting to walk me and my dirty laundry the few blocks to my prefered laundromat—not so much.

[I bet this little list is influenced by the fact that I’m going back to work tomorrow.

Summer, I will miss you.]

It was like 1996 and 1986 all rolled into one (life)

Tonight, a friend and I attempted to prepare ourselves for the upcoming year of teaching by reminding ourselves how to have fun. It was some of the type of fun that can be had at home - we watched Bottle Rocket and made Jiffy Pop. It was stupendous.

I can't believe how good the movie was. I am a little sad that I have been denied the opportunities to say "On the run from Johnny Law... ain't no trip to Cleveland" and know that origami wallpaper exists for the past 10 years. But, now, I feel like I need to make up for lost time. It's possible I'll have to watch this movie several more times in the upcoming months to really let it soak in.

Before the movie, my friend busted out some Jiffy Pop. After a brief discussion of the rules (which we quickly agreed was basically don't stop moving it) and a moment of fear that we had burned the bottom, I was able to relieve childhood memories of watching the Jiffy Pop silvery thing get bigger and bigger right before my very eyes. I always wanted it to explode, just like on the commercials. I thought that it might be good to incorporate Jiffy Pop into my 30th birthday. Several people have been telling me that I need to do something and I feel like a popcorn ode to my childhood/the 80s might be just the thing to un-pathetic it up. The jury is still out on that one, though.

Oh, those crazy kids at Harvard (life)

After a week of quality time with my family, enjoying a little Pimp My Ride with the sisters and Orange County Chopper with my mom, this little piece of architecture humor fell into the amusing category. At first, I questioned…then, there was a Devo reference and the star stickers. Those made me giggle a bit (gab, if you are on the IM).

Wisdom from Dylan (music)

Recently, I came upon a whole lotta new music. I’m excited. But, there is a slight feeling of guilt. Two things have made me feel better since the guilty feeling began. One was some kind of math equation showing the number of iPods divided by the number of songs that have been downloaded from iTunes equaling some very low number of songs per iPod (I forget where I read this…but, I’m sure with some creative googling, a motivated person could figure it out).

The second is the fact that Bob Dylan thinks its okay because everything is crap anyway. I can listen happily now.

*** whoops, it's really 198

Funny conversation amongst my sisters today:

Sister #1: Hey do you want to know an ugly word?
Sister #2: Lloyd?
Sister #1: No, hers.

End of conversation.

This is the type of stuff that keeps me very entertained.

Return to the fold (family)

Upon my return to the right coast, I've been making up for lost family time in a big way. I've been spending quality time with my extensive family (oldest of 4, thank you very much), extended family (walking with an aunt this morning, talking with several uncles), and the de facto family (neighbors, friends, and others). It's entertaining (most of the time) and somewhat exhausting (only every once in a while) after so much time away.

Last night, my dad and I spent some time talking about the blues. He went to a show and had a very good time. During our post-show conversation, I was reminded of the time that I rebelled against my family by hating music. They love it and pre-teen Me hated it just because. Luckily, pops brought me to see music that I could not hate and I am not bereft of all that is good in the world [My own personal opinion is that a person who does not like music is on a slippery slope to abject disgruntledness for life.] I like our conversations about music. He grew up with Led Zep, old blues, and millions of others I'll never have the first hand knowledge he has. But, he likes to tell stories and I like to listen.

Today, I tried to teach sister #2 how to parallel park. In my humble opinion, I'm a good parallel parker. That's a lie. I think I'm a great parallel parker. If you are around me long enough, it's possible I'll tell you the story of the man who came out of the store to take my picture because of my superior parallel parking skills. Anyhow, the sister needed to perfect the parallel park for today's road test and I attempted to give her some last minute advice. It turns out parallel parking is a personal thing. Each person must find their zone. My perfected technique did not translate down the years. Poor kid will have to learn on her own.

Open doors (life)

I have been mentally trying to write a blog about my flight back because I sat next to a man who played guitar in Anthrax for several years. He was very nice. We knew we would get along when we were both got excited because we thought our flight attendant’s name was Chewbacca. [It was not, by the way.] I seemed to keep the man from Anthrax amused right up until the time I feel into a hard open-mouthed sleep for the rest of the flight. But, that whole blog idea has become overshadowed by the blog-worthiness of my transition back to my world.

After almost 2 months away, I returned to my apartment to discover that I no longer remembered how to work my keys. I have a 5-key/2-door system. When I first tried to get in, I had absolutely no idea which key went to which lock. It would have taken me tons of time to figure it out had my roommate not been walking up our sidewalk. Her skills with the keys were especially welcomed because I had used my time on the drive to the apartment to drink a whole lot of coffee and there was a situation.

The other thing that I am having difficulty doing is figuring out how to get from here to there. When I had to ask myself, “How do I get to the Whitestone Expressway?” you could practically see the tumbleweed rolling through my brain. My approach was to just hop in the car with the hope that I would remember how to get there as I drove. There was a similar situation on the way home. But, it worked out in the end—as it always does.

I was able to enjoy this summer in ways I have not been able to enjoy things in such a very long time. I hope that I am able to hold onto some of the things that became so important this summer: new ways to approach life, willingness to push myself beyond my personal world, the ability to be as generous to people as people have been to me, the lightness that comes from doing just what you want to do, and the knowledge of a whole new world. But, what I think I hope for the most after this whole summer away is that doors will keep being able to be opened.

just so you know (life)

I love LA.

second breakfast (life)

Each morning, I wake up famished. Not too much gets between me and whatever goodness the kitchen holds. Well, some things can get between the food and me. But, really the list is not long.

This mornings bagel and cream cheese, with a small chaser of cottage cheese, is twice my typical caloric intake for a breakfasst; but, today it did not scratch the surface. I was a little worried about it all when I asked, "But what about SECOND breakfast?" Ahhh....

I do believe that it is time to go see what the kitchen holds.

my search for the perfect morning music (life)

I don't know if it is because of how I was raised or just because who I am, but I am in a constant search for the perfect musical accompaniment to life. It is almost something that cannot be put into words; you just know when you pick the right music for the moment.

This week, I went to the Getty and was overwhelmed by the architecture. Thanks to my shiny little iPod, I was able to see the angles and light with better eyes because Air was a part of the experience. Driving on the freeways of LA, with wind in my hair and air conditioning on my legs, became perfect when the Chili Peppers sing about how much they loved California.

Mornings pose a special kind of challenge. The music has to be layered. It has to walk the line between background music and interesting lyrical moments that make you smile. It also has to be able to be that quiet music that can kind of take over all the space in the room...well, at least this morning it does. Right now, my coffee and post weekend-ness is being complimented perfectly.

and then robots took over the world (tech)

It seems a fleet of underwater robots will be released into the sea this month. Their official job will be some type of observation of underwater things. The thing that makes these robots special is that they do it without human input. That's right--I said WITHOUT. They will be steering their own ship, if you will.

This obviously can mean only one thing; the robots are coming. We already have robots to take care of our homes, robots that manage our free time, and robots that keep us healthy. Previously, all of these robots needed varying levels of human input. Now these little suckers think for themselves.

I think it's so cool.

Domesticated (life)

Today, I broke my cleaning fast. It was good. Due to my recent lifestyle, I’ve had to restrict my activities strictly to straightening (my pile, my backpack, my bag). The quality time with the vacuum was a welcomed change.

The cleaning of the day must have opened me up to the cleaning gods because cleaning became the topic of several conversations. One was particularly entertaining for me.

My roommate and I have had different approaches to cleaning. Our differences have come out over time. Luckily, we have the same level of mess-tolerance, so it has not been an issue. But, today, it’s possible things came full circle.

While she was with another friend in a store, they stumbled into the cleaning aisle. My dear roommate said, “I don’t believe I’ve ever experienced this aisle before.” She then went on to explain all of my favorite cleaning tools to her friend.

I believe the student has become the teacher.

Their last 7.7242 miles (life)

As you may or may not know, I have a special kind of love for my Converse. I feel like they are as close to a representation of who I am as I can get in a shoe. Don't get me wrong. I'm a big fan of the heels (the higher the better is my usual rule for those). But, for day to day use, I'm a low-top-Chuck-Taylors-in-black kind of girl.

Yesterday, I decided to take a little walk in LA. As often happens when I take a walk, I alternated between distracted (rediscovering the joys of on-the-phone-with-a-friend) and curious (what exactly is around that corner?). So, I kept walking. I have a nice little map of the area. Because I only had the intention of walking to the end of the block and somewhere I've already been, I left in it's little pile with my lists, digital camera, and book I'm reading.

In the end, I took a three hour walk to nowhere. I experienced my first round of culture shock when I realized it was eerily silent. Until this walk, I had no idea it is possible to walk on the sidewalk and not hear anyone talking at all.

It was good to really learn. I've been told no one walks in LA and now I can accept that fact. The only bad thing was that the Chucks did not make it home. After much too much time of excessive abuse in NYC and my classroom, my little walk through the streets of LA was their last. I will miss them.

la, la, la, la, la, la, la (life)

Since my return from India, I've been exposed to life in LA. I like to think of it as my vacation within a vacation. I've been doing all sorts of very nice things; only some of which were truly contingent on location. Yesterday, though, I had a very CA day.

It began at the beach in the OC. I looked at a little art, made a little project, and walked [Note: I know it's not very CA to use the walking for transportation rather than fitness...but, I am from NY]. Then, after some quality time on the freeways, I saw what the world of TV looks like. Do you know that they have snacks in their offices? I guess it's only a little different than my school--we had paper towels in the bathroom for at least 7 months.

After the TV, I went to In and Out Burger. At the last moment, the idea of eating a Double-Double terrified me and I downsized. As I attempted to keep it all together, someone yelled, "They're filming outside." The entire restaurant was silent as we watched a convertible Cadillac, filled with dancing people, being pulled down the street. The whole shabang was followed by cops on motorcycles...you know, CHIPS style. It seemed like things could not get more LA. But, I was wrong.

After looking at all of LA from a rooftop, the night's events moved to a fancy movie theater, where people were signing autographs and parking had to be validated. Everyone was smiley, relaxed, interactive. Complete fun...and, as we know, I like to fun.

Having such a good night enjoying the stereotypes of a city made me wonder if I could do the same for someone visiting my part of the world. I guess we could walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, go to Central Park, and eat NY strip steak and/or/on bagels. We could interact with sarcastically cranky people and ride the subway. But, I'm just not sure if it would be as good.

The return (travel)

Slowly, slowly, I am coming back to my world after India. I still am interested in being awake when it is sleeping time and have to remember to take my anti-malaria pills every morning (don't worry, you can't catch it). But, I'm returning to my old ways--some of which now have new Indian twists.

I have had coffee in a cup the size of my head. Now I like to add a heaping spoon full of sugar. I had no idea it could be so good.

I have returned to my old clothes. After spending a month in clothes that hid my body to show respect and be safe, jeans and a tank top suddenly seems to have an immodest tilt. I am enjoying a little immodesty.

I have walked to and from places with ease again. Traffic has returned to the right side and I don't have the fear of being run over by a TATA truck or an auto rickshaw. I am hoping that India has reminded me of the process of discovering new things...even when I think I'm in a place I know well.

I have not had to respond to anything with a head wobble yet. But, I did throw half a Namaste at someone who was asking for money on the street.

I think it may take some time for me to see some of the ways India has become a part of my life. I'm hoping I took the approach of easy generosity that was everywhere in India and brought a little more of a sense of adventure back with me.

Help, Indian style (travel)

Last night, we left Kerala for the shore temples around Chennai. On
the train, we were the topic of conversation among the five men who
were sharing our compartment. All were married except for one. When
they spoke in English, they suggested I wear more bright colors,
wondered if I could tie a sari and had questions about our lives. When
they spoke in Malayalam, I think they were trying to decide which of
us would make a suitable wife for the only unmarried one of the bunch.
I was voting for my friend. The unmarried one had a mustache and I am
not a fan of the facial hair.

Today, once we arrived in Mamallapurum, we took a walk around the
block. We were heading for a shore temple everyone assured us was very
close and ended up at an ancient stone temple in the middle of town.
There were temples carved from rocks the size of buildings, relief
sculpture of elephants, gods and goddesses.

At one point, we had to climb up very tiny steps that had been carved
into the side of a rock. After my friend practically ran up the side
of the rock and I decided to attempt it....

Half way up, when the steps became even smaller than they were to
begin with, I became tangled up in my excessive skirt/long shirt/scarf
combination. The only option I had at that point was to sit down. So,
I did. Not surprisingly, all of my fluttering caused me to gain the
attention of some helpers. Not one or two...but eight men from Punjab
decided they would help me to the top of the rock. Their words of
encouragement, advice on steps to take, and the pressure of possibly
biting it in front of a small crowd somehow got me off of the steps.
They then showed me the easy way to walk up--completely devoid of
steps.

After my small fiasco, we had two rounds of photos (four in each
picture) and several standard issue questions before we all went on
our way. Soon, it's possible I will have to do something without the
help of half a town. But, for my last few days here, I am pretty sure
help, Indian style, will be offered again.