I spent the weekend in what I've come to admit as the "Number 1 Way I Should Not Recoup". I came home Friday night, laid down, and slept. And slept. And slept. Saturday. Sunday. All of it. Not because I was tired but rather I was hiding. Hiding from Worry, Doubt, Despair, and Fear - the Four Horsemen of my Emotional Apocalypse.
And tonight, what I needed to do was work - all the work I avoided this weekend (because I hid from responsibility too). What I did instead was go to dinner with my friends.
My wonderful friends who, at one moment, are discussing life and death matters (seriously), but in the next are belly-laughing because someone accidentally exploded a ketchup packet all over two of us across the table AND the wall behind us.
We laughed so long and loud that everyone in the restaurant was staring. Maybe because we were too loud. Maybe because they're jealous. It doesn't matter anyway. It was just enough to wake me up.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Its Conflict is Its Essence...
Yesterday began with a phonecall announcing a birth. Yesterday ended with a phonecall announcing a death.
I told you. The Universe must keep its delicate balance.
One intense love appears only hours before another drifts away,
Both visits unexpected.
Two moments unexplained.
Life breathes in. Life breathes out.
A son for a father. A grandson for a husband.
Hope for sorrow.
Tears of relief for sobs of pain.
A lifetime of memories yet to come for a lifetime of memories to remember.
These are the trades that are made.
Backdoor dealings between Fate and Coincidence.
Rejoice.
Release.
And the cosmic tumbler continues to shake the dice.
I told you. The Universe must keep its delicate balance.
One intense love appears only hours before another drifts away,
Both visits unexpected.
Two moments unexplained.
Life breathes in. Life breathes out.
A son for a father. A grandson for a husband.
Hope for sorrow.
Tears of relief for sobs of pain.
A lifetime of memories yet to come for a lifetime of memories to remember.
These are the trades that are made.
Backdoor dealings between Fate and Coincidence.
Rejoice.
Release.
And the cosmic tumbler continues to shake the dice.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Because Without the Bitter, Baby...
...the sweet ain't as sweet.
That's right, I just quoted Vanilla Sky. Even though I am probably the only person I know in this world that liked that movie. Yet much of my philosophy of life does originate from my guru, Cameron Crowe. The fact that such a phrase is uttered in a sci-fi fable about cryogenics means nothing to me.
Because it's true.
Today was a day that I've been dreading on two fronts.
1) With budget cuts looming above all of our heads, I have known that lay-offs are possible for anyone. Today, in my room, stood one of my very favorite "anyones", still reeling from possibilities laid out to him. It left me dazed and broken-hearted.
and
B) Two of my dear friends (who happen to dearly love one another) had a baby. Dread, you ask? How so? Because the odds have been overwhelmingly stacked against them. Because all the research I did about their situation made me want to crawl into a hole. Because I hate to see anyone I love so pained and worried. Because to wish for mere survival doesn't seem like a big enough wish, yet you are terrified to ask for more.
But when you are dealt the bitter, sometimes the sweet will follow. This is the cruelty of the Universe's balance scale; it rarely ever lifts you to the stars or leaves you flailing on the ground. Its conflict is its essence. Before either of us had time to dry our eyes, a message arrived.
Three pounds, fifteen ounces of stable, breathing sweetness to sit upon the other side of that scale.
The shadow of goodbye shouldn't travel with such a fragile light of hello. But hello anyway, darling boy. Welcome to the world.
That's right, I just quoted Vanilla Sky. Even though I am probably the only person I know in this world that liked that movie. Yet much of my philosophy of life does originate from my guru, Cameron Crowe. The fact that such a phrase is uttered in a sci-fi fable about cryogenics means nothing to me.
Because it's true.
Today was a day that I've been dreading on two fronts.
1) With budget cuts looming above all of our heads, I have known that lay-offs are possible for anyone. Today, in my room, stood one of my very favorite "anyones", still reeling from possibilities laid out to him. It left me dazed and broken-hearted.
and
B) Two of my dear friends (who happen to dearly love one another) had a baby. Dread, you ask? How so? Because the odds have been overwhelmingly stacked against them. Because all the research I did about their situation made me want to crawl into a hole. Because I hate to see anyone I love so pained and worried. Because to wish for mere survival doesn't seem like a big enough wish, yet you are terrified to ask for more.
But when you are dealt the bitter, sometimes the sweet will follow. This is the cruelty of the Universe's balance scale; it rarely ever lifts you to the stars or leaves you flailing on the ground. Its conflict is its essence. Before either of us had time to dry our eyes, a message arrived.
Three pounds, fifteen ounces of stable, breathing sweetness to sit upon the other side of that scale.
The shadow of goodbye shouldn't travel with such a fragile light of hello. But hello anyway, darling boy. Welcome to the world.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
My Illogical Jealousy Reaches New Heights. Or Distances.
I am completely and illogically jealous of one of my friends.
Completely so, because he's getting to see something that I would love. L-O-V-E. Illogically so, because the thing I'd like to witness is in England. That's right. There is a zero chance of my being able to go, so you'd think that I'd just be a grown-up and hope that he has a good time. But I'm kind of bratty right now, so I'll just sit here and fume. Stupid England.
In all seriousness, however, he told me tonight that he's going to a stage production of "To Kill a Mockingbird". Only my absolute favorite book of all time. Literally. ANNNDDD... if I really wanted to torment myself, I could mention that I'm the one who gave the book to him. Therefore, it is through my literary guidance that he's even attending said production.
I'd say "Harrumphhh!" if it wasn't such an annoyingly precious made up noise.
More than anything, though, I am unbelievably curious as to how the British actors will handle Alabama accents.
Completely so, because he's getting to see something that I would love. L-O-V-E. Illogically so, because the thing I'd like to witness is in England. That's right. There is a zero chance of my being able to go, so you'd think that I'd just be a grown-up and hope that he has a good time. But I'm kind of bratty right now, so I'll just sit here and fume. Stupid England.
In all seriousness, however, he told me tonight that he's going to a stage production of "To Kill a Mockingbird". Only my absolute favorite book of all time. Literally. ANNNDDD... if I really wanted to torment myself, I could mention that I'm the one who gave the book to him. Therefore, it is through my literary guidance that he's even attending said production.
I'd say "Harrumphhh!" if it wasn't such an annoyingly precious made up noise.
More than anything, though, I am unbelievably curious as to how the British actors will handle Alabama accents.
Friday, February 18, 2011
God Bless Do-Overs
After yesterday's wild ride, I wants sure about today. Full moon + Friday + 13 year-olds usually is a recipe for disaster.
But it wasn't this time. I went home last night, thought about where things veered off course, and decided that I was in need of a do-over.
Today, my classes worked hard. Lessons went well. And at the end of the day, I turned the corner to find 3 adorable young men in my hallway. Former students and athletes who had come to see the teachers they loved best. With good grades and unlimited futures, I was reminded again why it is that I do what I do. The whole time we talked, they wore 3 of the 4 brightest and biggest smiles in Texas.
Mine was the 4th, and it lasted all the way home.
But it wasn't this time. I went home last night, thought about where things veered off course, and decided that I was in need of a do-over.
Today, my classes worked hard. Lessons went well. And at the end of the day, I turned the corner to find 3 adorable young men in my hallway. Former students and athletes who had come to see the teachers they loved best. With good grades and unlimited futures, I was reminded again why it is that I do what I do. The whole time we talked, they wore 3 of the 4 brightest and biggest smiles in Texas.
Mine was the 4th, and it lasted all the way home.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Even Carnies are More Appealing Than This...
Tuesday = Fail. Totally spent the day questioning my entire career path.
Yesterday, one of my students (who has given the bare minimum effort all year) raised his hand to let me know that he has always "hated writing. Like REALLY hated writing.". But now, he loves it. Then the next period another of my boys wrote something so incredible, I could only sit at my desk, mouth agape, and marvel. These boys grabbed the noose from my hands, untwisted it, and tossed me a career lifeline.
Today? Two girls nearly got into a fistfight because they couldn't work together. And they tore 10 pages from one of my favorite books. In that class I taught for approximately 7.5 minutes. I refereed and punished and evaluated my sanity for the other 68 minutes. The missing 5.5 minutes entailed my efforts to stop a stress-induced nosebleed brought on by the office referral I gave one of the near-pugilists.
If teaching junior high is like a roller coaster, today we were on the loop-to-loop section. Then someone barfed.
I'd rather tongue kiss a carnie than see that class again this week.
Yesterday, one of my students (who has given the bare minimum effort all year) raised his hand to let me know that he has always "hated writing. Like REALLY hated writing.". But now, he loves it. Then the next period another of my boys wrote something so incredible, I could only sit at my desk, mouth agape, and marvel. These boys grabbed the noose from my hands, untwisted it, and tossed me a career lifeline.
Today? Two girls nearly got into a fistfight because they couldn't work together. And they tore 10 pages from one of my favorite books. In that class I taught for approximately 7.5 minutes. I refereed and punished and evaluated my sanity for the other 68 minutes. The missing 5.5 minutes entailed my efforts to stop a stress-induced nosebleed brought on by the office referral I gave one of the near-pugilists.
If teaching junior high is like a roller coaster, today we were on the loop-to-loop section. Then someone barfed.
I'd rather tongue kiss a carnie than see that class again this week.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
A Little Game of "Hide and Don't-Effing-Seek-Me-Out"
You know I love the facebook.
I do. I love it.
But the cold, hard truth is that I don't love all my facebook friends. Some of them I'm beginning to downright loathe. Yet, as I think that de-friending someone is virtual murder, I've taken a sort-of solemn oath to not engage in such behaviors.
I have one friend on the interwebs who depresses me when I read her posts. And annoys me. And sometimes offends me. She has no grasp of tone, appropriateness, or the difference between "your" and "you're". All things that whip my ass on no less than a six-time a day basis. Triple Eek.
Another friend swears by "hiding" the posts of those that bring about my illogical anger. But, you know me... mostly nice to a detrimental level. Mostly. So, it's been a tough call.
But I have to say it...
Let the post-blocking begin.
I do. I love it.
But the cold, hard truth is that I don't love all my facebook friends. Some of them I'm beginning to downright loathe. Yet, as I think that de-friending someone is virtual murder, I've taken a sort-of solemn oath to not engage in such behaviors.
I have one friend on the interwebs who depresses me when I read her posts. And annoys me. And sometimes offends me. She has no grasp of tone, appropriateness, or the difference between "your" and "you're". All things that whip my ass on no less than a six-time a day basis. Triple Eek.
Another friend swears by "hiding" the posts of those that bring about my illogical anger. But, you know me... mostly nice to a detrimental level. Mostly. So, it's been a tough call.
But I have to say it...
Let the post-blocking begin.
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