two highlights from conversation with my roommate tonight:
You know how some of your favorite sites offer a great digest format of their information. You can get the highlights when you have a time crunch and can't really look at everything. Well, for the past few days, things have been a little crazy and I am going to give an update on my life, in the convenient digest format.
How long does it take to drive from NYC to DC? 21 hours (apx.)
I left my school around 3:30 Friday afternoon, was stuck with millions of others on this horrid parkway that runs between Brooklyn and Queens for 2 hours, and almost fell asleep on the NJ Turnpike. After, I took one of my famous 30 min. rest-stop rests, I decided that I could not drive any more. So, I found a conveniently located hotel and slept from 7:30 p.m. to 8:30 the next morning. I rolled into my friend's house (in VA) around 1 on Saturday afternoon.
What does nostalgia do to a person? lots
I had a great weekend with all of my DC friends. I got to know a new dog. I saw a new home. I forgot my friendliness could be misinterpreted by those who do not know me. And, I had some good drink made of that Pom juice. Lots of antioxidants. I drove through my old neighborhood and realized how much had changed. Everyone lives in a new place. The old neighborhood is barely recognizable. And, I am in a very different place in my life. But, I appreciated the time I got to spend with folks who know me well (even if I've changed). I miss them all and loved how I got to laugh at salsa jokes, discuss all of lifes big issues, and relax in that way you can around people who know who you are at your core all weekend.
Who has the right of way on a city street--a horse or a car? I still don't know
I was cut off by a horse, in front of Central Park, on my way home. I don't know if I was wrong or if the horse was not following the rules of the road. I had just been enjoying my return to the city, realizing that I do think of here as my city, and thinking about all of the things I want to do over the next few weeks that can only happen here...then, the horse cut me off. I wasn't sure if my typical driving expletives should be used in this situation or if it was different because it was a horse.
How long can a person survive class and teaching? 12 weeks (exactly)
My semester is almost over and I could not be happier. I still have 3 semesters to finish off my grad program. But, I need winter break. On my drive back, I decided that I cannot do this anymore and am going to quit teaching and going to school so I can see my friends more. (After 12 weeks of school and mild case of exhaustion, it is such a tempting idea.) I may change my mind once next semester starts. But, I cannot be sure right now. If there is anyone who would like to support me, as I drive around, please let me know.
(FYI--all of this was typed while I was wearing Thai pants and a winter hat)
In all three major areas of my life (me as a teacher, me as a student, and me as me), I feel that crankiness is the major tone. People around me are cranky about their classes, their students, and their papers. I am cranky about my classes, my students, and my papers. Typically, I feel my crankiness has subtle differences from their crankiness. But, today, I realized that is just not true. Sure, I am tired because I have survived 12 weeks of university (with approximately 89 mini-assignments) in combination with 51 days of teaching 5, 6, and 7 year-olds. And, yes, I do have more than one student who thinks that our classroom is a personal obstacle course and a few others that are still acquiring some basic interpersonal skills (i.e. not shaking others, not spitting on others, how to say nice things instead of curses, and how to respect the bathroom we all share by not peeing on the toilet paper). But, really, it could be a lot worse.
I was just IMing a friend and blamed the general malaise of all around me on the change in pressure and/or the negative ions in the air. Really, I think that we, as a collective, might just need to get over ourselves. Since I am not really in charge of anyone else, I'm going to have to just do it myself. I need to stop being overwhelmed and realize that I have it pretty good. I may be sleep-deprived and have had a dramatic reduction on my free time since August. But, the end is near. I'm on my way down to Washington, DC to see a ton of old friends this weekend. I don't know the actual directions to the new house I will be staying at tomorrow. But, I will get there at some point tomorrow night and things will be good. That's just the way things are sometimes.
I have a friend living in New Mexico. She and I have a history that holds some of my favorite memories. We have traveled by train across Canada, by camper/cafe through Alaska, and by Honda through Maine. When she lived in Seattle, I took every chance I could get to crash at her house and try to see if that city fit me.
When we are together, we: laugh until our sides hurt, have conversations with strangers, drink lots of hot drinks, and, somehow become a little bit closer than we already were. She and I have been planning on taking a big trip to celebrate our 30th year for quite some time. I believe that the plan came from a conversation about women reaching their physical peak at 30. We are now in the planning mode. We had been talking about going to Guatemala this summer. She has been to 40+ countries and somehow missed Central America (I think). I have been to a few less countries and am game for anything. But, then we realized that it is the rainy season in most of Central American in the summer. So, tonight, after talking with another friend who is going to be studying abroad for a year, I wondered if going to Sri Lanka might be a good option.
As fate would have it, my dear eggplant ( a.k.a. best travel partner) called tonight and wanted to check to make sure that this trip was going to really happen. I told her about Sri Lanka and she mentioned India. Then, she mentioned Laos, Thailand, and a few other Asian countries. I said yes to all of them. The one thing I asked her to do was to have real sit down conversations with me to help me prepared to be a good traveler. I have had some bad habits in the past (the most dangerous was when I told a man who believed the US government has a weather machine which lonesome trail we were camping on that night) and want to make sure that I do not have them anymore.
So, maybe I'll go to India this summer. Or Sri Lanka. Or Laos. I think I could get excited about any of these places.
This afternoon, someone made fun of the fact that I am in bed by
In the hours after lunch, I was overwhelmed by the life my students have. They are six and they are so tough. Well, most of them are tough. I have had spitters, kids who shake others, cursers, and a child who thought that my response to an eraser theft was because of the color of her skin. How do children start this so early? I don't want to become someone who is not treating children with gentleness and the respect they should be showing one another. However, I need to get things in check in my classroom. There is something going on in my classroom. I'm trying not to hold myself responsible for everything. My coteacher has taught for 19 years and she said they are a needy bunch. But, I am falling into the trap of thinking I am not doing enough, not prepared enough, not understanding enough, something...I think that blambing myself rather than something much larger than me is an easier. I can be fixed. I can learn new things. I can stay longer. The problems of living in the projects, being cared for by babysitters until 9 at night, and growing up in an illiterate home are much more difficult to fix.
Now, it's off to a paper for my class on applied behavior analysis. What a day.
Today, I had to wake up at 6:00 a.m. to write a midterm that was due at 9:45 this morning. I procrastinate because my life is a little busy. And, I'm well versed in the art of procrastination. I had to go to a beautiful museum to hand in my paper. By 10, I was sitting and discussing three pieces of art, walking around with fellow teachers who were as tired as I was, and kind of felt a little numb by the end. The class is worth 1.5 credits. Although I do not like to quantify educational experiences, I am not sure if the trade off between my much needed sleep and what I learned at the museum and at the play were a fair trade. This class is making me function beyond the hours I normally enjoy consciousness.
To recover, I must go watch the final disk of Sports Night. I love that show.
It's snowing a little bit. An hour ago, I was walking with friends and I saw snow in the air, flying under the streetlights. I love the snow. I am so happy winter is here.
And, I got to spend time with a good friend. I think we have an intuitive friendship. She just knows. Explanations bring understanding rather than a feeling of frustration. What a lucky person I am.
Having 23 small children as a part of each weekday brings some interesting experience to my life. Once, a paper cut got really infected in, like, 12 minutes; a tiny slice became a bit of a science experiment because of the creepy crawlies that make their home on my hands (I'm better about washing my hands now). I see a spectacular range of emotions (pure joy to complete despair) hourly. Paperclips have become choking hazards in my mind. And, most unexpectedly, I have become strangely aware of my appearance. Now, you might be thinking, "Has she suddenly become vain? They are just little kids." But, these little kids are so aware of me that it is a little unnerving.
Yesterday, I wore a new pair of boots. [I am a fan of boots. In my world, skirts are to be worn with very high heals or tall boots. Teach for a day in 3 inch heals and you will know pain. I only forget about the pain once every 2-3 months and can wear a skirt on those days. So, when I got these new (flat) boots, I was excited.] One of my more astute little guys told me he liked my boots. Other than my roommate, the boots went unnoticed by people above 4 foot tall. Several of my other little guys are a little preoccupied with my hair and there is one girl in the school has long conversations with me about the color of my eyes. All of these things kind of make sense though. The kids spend a lot of time around my feet. They are on the rug, I am on a chair. That is boot level. My hair could be seen as a novelty if your mother wears a head scarf. And, if you have brown eyes, my blue eyes are a little different.
Today, however, I became a little unnerved by a comments of one of my students. He asked me if I was wearing perfume after I helped him with his writing. A six-year-old is around me enough to know when I smell different. I did not realize that my own smell was so distinctive that small children would know the days I put on lotion. It's craziness.
Tonight, I had to go see Fiddler on the Roof. Normally, when people say they had to go do something, they are stretching the truth. In fact, I have been known to do that from time to time. However, tonight, I am taking no liberties. I had to go see a play for a class called Teaching Science and Social Studies Methods (or something like that). It was good. But, I am tired. Like all of the other teachers there, I was ready for bed 45 minutes before the end of the first act. What has my life become when a
The play was fine. Harvey Fierstein and his character reminded me of my father. I don't know if it is the fact that the character had lots of daughters or if it was the wide range of voices he used. But, I found myself comparing him (them) to pops. What is it about fathers and daughters? We are bound by something fierce.
In addition to my own familial traditions, this play made me think of a friend who says she can do the bottle dance without Velcro. Amazing, you say...and, I agree. I cannot walk in a straight line on a typical day. She danced some Russian dance with glass in her immediate vicinity. For me, that would just be asking for stitches.
Now, I have to get ready for a day of teaching having had no sleep. I fear for my self. Six-year-olds may eat me alive in the morning. If I don't blog at some point this weekend, just figure they got the best of me.
Tonight, I went to have tea with my Gram. We watched the pre-game for the Lighting of the Tree (bad banter between the weatherman and a sitcom star was overshadowed by the high-kicks of the Rockettes) and just relaxed.
It would have been my Grandpa's birthday today. I had some moments good moments with my memories of him today. He made a noise I cannot recreate for all of the babies and they uniformly loved that noise. He liked to have everyone around him, even if he did not want them to really mess with his systems. He pulled splinters out of my foot/hand/etc with a needle and completely steady hand when I was a little girl and prone to splinters. He smiled big in pictures.
It was good to be able to just sit and be with my Gram, doing something Grandpa would have been doing a few years ago. When I lived far from home, it was not so easy to be a part of days like today. I'm glad I was there tonight.
I just saw amazing personal websites and was jealous. My blog doesn't do any of the fancy tricks of his blog. He walks and plays loud music (be forewarned). You click on a picture of a guy and things happen. It's as if he is really speaking to you. I'm not sure what he is saying, as I have not really read his words because I'm easily distracted by his visuals. But, you really want to take a little look: here it is
I, on the other hand, have words. The level of envy I have is a little unreal. Specifically, in light of the fact that I am not the most technologically savvy person in the world. But, a strange love of technology is growing inside of me. I talk about external hard drives. I talk about how little some things have become. I talk about all I could do with a SmartBoard in my classroom. I try to understand all that I read in Wired.
I had little waves of desire for my blog to have little pictures of me instead of a menu, use some funky flash animation, and not have a font change be the big visual thing. Right now, I should probably work on my motivation to figure out why the sound doesn't work on my computer since I put it all back together in my new apartment. Maybe someday....
Today, some amazing things happened. For you, I will present them in a lovely list format.
I have 3 hours left to enjoy my 28th year. For the past few hours, I have been moved by multiple episodes of Sports Night and Sex in the City. I got to show off my special blanket move (the burrito) and laughed so much.
Since it is my last day as 28, I feel as if I should say something. Uhm, hum. [That is me clearing my throat to prepare.] It's been good. And, now it's time to turn the page. I think that 29 could be my year to go a little bit wild, in a good way. I will be full of courage. I will do just what I want to do (except for the days when I need to write a paper and then I'll just do what I have to do). I will travel to a foreign land. I will try to be better. I will find something new to love. I will find many opportunities to laugh too hard. I will love the people who are important to me as much as I can. I will be okay with ambiguity. I will let myself want what I want. I will enjoy my time with people. And, I hope, unexpected things will come my way.
I am happy. My life is good.
Visitors came and food was eaten. I have discovered a new way to incorporate onions into my life. Dishes will be done in the morning. I had forgotten how nice it is to invite people to your home, prepare an evening, and enjoy their conversation. I'm going to have to do this again.
It's been a while since I've had company. In the last place, I could not comfortably fit more than one extra person. And, then I always feel silly because my living situation projected an air of an obstacle course (hop the bed, run around the roommate, through the little door and you're in the bathroom) rather than the living quarters of someone who should be settled in her life. Tonight, people are coming for dinner. A random group has been invited and I'm currently testing out the music selection as I unpack the last of the boxes. I should be basking in the warm glow of good plans. But, instead I'm anxious. I don't feel like I am one of those people who is good at making everyone feel relaxed and comfortable. I worry. I worry that the food is not good. I worry that there is not enough to eat. I worry that people will not talk to one another. And, I worry that I still live in a funny way and it will make people feel uncomfortable. But, it's just last minute anxiety. Once wine is poured, people show up, and food is out, things have a way of working themselves out.
Happy Thanksgiving! I'm off to my parents' house to make a few pounds of stuffed mushrooms to bring to Gram's. I'm going to bring my camera to document the pie goodness. And, I send good wishes to all of my friends. I'm so thankful for you all.
Much love,
me.
Maybe the gods of the bus read the last blog. Maybe I am too dramatic for my own good. Maybe I was looking friendly. Or, maybe it's the whole holiday spirit....
I had the best bus ride of my life this morning. At 6:55, I walked up to the area the bus comes (a stop without one of those nice wind protector shelters), and an older woman struck up a conversation about how cold it was. She was chatty and it was so cold. So, we talked. It turned out that she had been diagnosed with skin cancer and was going to get her doctor in the city. She has lived in my neighborhood for 50 years and is in retirement. We talked about the way the neighborhood has changed. I learned that the mayor used to hold a May Day event in Central Park and give all of the kids free ice cream. The same mayor used to read the comics over the radio to kids each Sunday. She told me about her granddaughters and how proud she is of them. When I arrived at my school's block, I wished her good health and went on my way. I don't think I'll ever run into her again (she's not normally out so early) and I don't know her name. But, it was such a nice way to begin the morning. My faith in the MTA has been (somewhat) restored.
After school, I took the bus from elementary school to my university. I've done this once before and was amazed at the ease and convenience of public transportation. On that trip, I waxed poetic about the fact that two busses took me from the Middle Eastern neighborhood of my school, through a Peruvian district, around the place with the worlds best empanadas, to a place that kind of reminds me of
Today, it was a bit of a different kind of ride. A lengthy conversation about coats, pockets on coats, and brands of coats made me think an investment in an iPod would be an investment in mental health. I think my bus was actually turned off for some time while a tractor trailer was towed from its resting spot across 6 lanes of traffic. And, a man gave me an up-close-and-personal view of some self-love I don't typically associate with a public event. [Side note: How does one really deal with that type of situation? I was made fun of for being polite to strangers yesterday by a local boy. Polite did not really provide me with any resources today.]
Where are my idealistic views of public transportation today? Maybe I'd be more happy with the trappings of my urban lifestyle if it did not involve being sat on by a very nice lady?
I'm out of blog practice. I feel as if I have nothing to say. Maybe my day was too pedestrian to be blog fodder. But, I used to be able to blog about the little things. Honestly, those things are my favorite things. In an effort to get back in the show, I am going to do something I try not to do all that often.
For a moment, I am going to allow some un-Buddhist-like thinking of the future. I am very excited for the next few weeks. Holidays are upon us. I will be making a truck load of stuffed mushrooms for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I have some wonderful plans for these Christmas cards I got from the store last weekend. And, I want to try to make a line of tee-shirts for a friend using all my best tricks. This all makes me happy.
In addition to these little in-house plans, I'm also gearing up for a trip to DC for an annual yank and spank. It's time to redeem myself from my last embarrassing showing. And, I am looking forward to spying on the life of my friends who are all so much more settled than I have ever been.
Dear Blog,
I know that I have been gone for a long time. Please don't think that I don't really care. Because, I do care. Things just got so hectic with the move, report cards, and midterms. I know that's just an excuse. You are probably thinking, if I cared, I would have made time. But, I'm going to try to make it up to you. I'll tell you about seeing a delivery guy on a bike deliver food to a car, about being called Grandma by one of my students, about the pumpkin pie I still owe to someone who helped me move and the crazy amount of guilt I feel about a pie, my growing anticipation for Thanksgiving, and the crazy email I get from strangers on Friendster. I hope it doesn't fall on deaf ears.
I missed you blog.
Much love,
me.
