... not what I would call a successful day of teaching.
Starting with not being properly amused by the individual antics of my preschoolers.
Followed by a 5 year-old with a nosebleed.
Then a kid asking about my new necklace: "So, if I pull too hard, it will break?"
"Yes, it will break."
And ... YANK.
And then, what exactly? The grumpiness that resulted from all of this led eventually to treating my last class with utter disdain, in response to their volume level and general rowdiness, eventually ending the school day with a kid I've had for 10 months telling me, "I think bad teacher."
"I've had you every day for 10 months. I'm a bad teacher every day or just today?"
"Just today."
"Well, I think maybe you were a bad student today, too."
Not really a day to be proud of.
But then I skipped the report cards, ate dinner, watched some mindless TV, and then saw a friend's band play in a venue so tiny most of the patrons stood on the sidewalk to watch. Later, I went with two lovely friends and their dog to a favorite bar to eat dokbokki and we got sucked into watching "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" with the sound turned down, and suddenly life felt a lot more manageable.
Thankfully, tomorrow is a new day.
24 June 2010
23 June 2010
changechangechange
Woah!
Watch out!
New layout!
I just couldn't resist this picture ... so, here we are. The first major template/layout change since 2005. I can tell the text will be a little bit more difficult to read, but several of the handful of you that read this are reading it via RSS feed anyway, so ... I'm going to give it a try. At least for a little while.
b
p.s. While I do have an awesome air-conditioner in my apartment, I also added a new fan that I bought yesterday, and it's blowing on me right now, and it's AWESOME.
p.p.s. Tomorrow I'm going to try to get report cards done, and after that, I'm going to see about writing to you, dearest Internet. Are you ready?
Watch out!
New layout!
I just couldn't resist this picture ... so, here we are. The first major template/layout change since 2005. I can tell the text will be a little bit more difficult to read, but several of the handful of you that read this are reading it via RSS feed anyway, so ... I'm going to give it a try. At least for a little while.
b
p.s. While I do have an awesome air-conditioner in my apartment, I also added a new fan that I bought yesterday, and it's blowing on me right now, and it's AWESOME.
p.p.s. Tomorrow I'm going to try to get report cards done, and after that, I'm going to see about writing to you, dearest Internet. Are you ready?
20 May 2010
13 May 2010
a wide world
It's just after midnight on a Thursday night/Friday morning. I'm wearing a face mask, drinking a glass of wine, paying bills, and trying to donate money to a few good causes in America while I sit in my apartment in Seoul, South Korea.
Think about how all of that is possible.
I tried to call the Manhattan Arts Center to donate to MXTW, but the connection was bad, so I'm on hold with the Market to talk to my mom to see if she can do it for me... MAC, get online donation set up STAT. And while you're at it, get somebody to redesign your website, because it's ugly and it's been ugly for about a decade. I'm telling you the truth because I love you.
So, here's a list of things for tonight:
1. I just paid off half of the remaining balance of my credit card. Next month it will be done. YEAH.
2. I'm going to have my student loan paid off in a couple of months, at the outside.
3. I've finally paid all of my official personal debt. (Eric and Ben, thanks for waiting almost 2 years for that money.)
4. I wish I'd have gone to bed 2 hours ago, at least.
5. The parents of my pre-school class have decided that tomorrow they will buy all of the preschoolers and their teachers pizza for lunch. PRESCHOOL PIZZA PARTY.
6. If you're able, help MXTW get to the Minnesota Fringe Festival. Send them some money, even just a few bucks. If you can, go SEE them, in Manhattan, and/or at the Minnesota Fringe Festival. They full of so much discipline and energy and creativity.
7. I can hear someone dribbling a basketball 13 stories below.
8. Saturday is Teacher's Day, and a kid gave me some EXTRA SPARKLY FUCHSIA LIPGLOSS as a gift. Wicked.
9. I finally took pictures of my tots. So, watch out.
10. Love from Putnam County:
Think about how all of that is possible.
I tried to call the Manhattan Arts Center to donate to MXTW, but the connection was bad, so I'm on hold with the Market to talk to my mom to see if she can do it for me... MAC, get online donation set up STAT. And while you're at it, get somebody to redesign your website, because it's ugly and it's been ugly for about a decade. I'm telling you the truth because I love you.
So, here's a list of things for tonight:
1. I just paid off half of the remaining balance of my credit card. Next month it will be done. YEAH.
2. I'm going to have my student loan paid off in a couple of months, at the outside.
3. I've finally paid all of my official personal debt. (Eric and Ben, thanks for waiting almost 2 years for that money.)
4. I wish I'd have gone to bed 2 hours ago, at least.
5. The parents of my pre-school class have decided that tomorrow they will buy all of the preschoolers and their teachers pizza for lunch. PRESCHOOL PIZZA PARTY.
6. If you're able, help MXTW get to the Minnesota Fringe Festival. Send them some money, even just a few bucks. If you can, go SEE them, in Manhattan, and/or at the Minnesota Fringe Festival. They full of so much discipline and energy and creativity.
7. I can hear someone dribbling a basketball 13 stories below.
8. Saturday is Teacher's Day, and a kid gave me some EXTRA SPARKLY FUCHSIA LIPGLOSS as a gift. Wicked.
9. I finally took pictures of my tots. So, watch out.
10. Love from Putnam County:
25 April 2010
The 25th Annual...
...Putnam County Spelling Bee.
1. Where do these musicals keep coming from? NOT something I would have foreseen.
2. My song is too low for me.
Because it's written for a man.
But that doesn't mean I ain't gonna try.
3. I keep falling down at rehearsal. Daily. In all sorts of situations. It's extremely embarrassing.
It's finally SPRING! There are flowers blooming EVERYWHERE! The beginning of last week had me in the pit of despair, but I'm feeling a little bit better now, seeing poppies and bougainvillea and beautiful red and yellow bushes everywhere. Going to rehearsal with highly entertaining folks doesn't hurt, either. Gonna try to keep in on the upswing for awhile.
Love from the land of yellow dust,
b
1. Where do these musicals keep coming from? NOT something I would have foreseen.
2. My song is too low for me.
Because it's written for a man.
But that doesn't mean I ain't gonna try.
3. I keep falling down at rehearsal. Daily. In all sorts of situations. It's extremely embarrassing.
It's finally SPRING! There are flowers blooming EVERYWHERE! The beginning of last week had me in the pit of despair, but I'm feeling a little bit better now, seeing poppies and bougainvillea and beautiful red and yellow bushes everywhere. Going to rehearsal with highly entertaining folks doesn't hurt, either. Gonna try to keep in on the upswing for awhile.
Love from the land of yellow dust,
b
04 April 2010
Go Go Gadget...
...iPod!
I bought an iPod Touch.
And guess what?
IT IS AWESOME.
(Thanks again to Chris for convincing his mom to give me the iPod mini that came with his iBook in 2005. It lasted nearly 5 years, and only recently did it start to only work for about a half an hour at a time. I learned to truly appreciate having a soundtrack to my life.)
Movin' and Groovin,'
bebe
I bought an iPod Touch.
And guess what?
IT IS AWESOME.
(Thanks again to Chris for convincing his mom to give me the iPod mini that came with his iBook in 2005. It lasted nearly 5 years, and only recently did it start to only work for about a half an hour at a time. I learned to truly appreciate having a soundtrack to my life.)
Movin' and Groovin,'
bebe
28 March 2010
delay
I have been busy rearranging my life.
Here are some highlights:
1. A new school year has begun. New students! New schedule!
2. I have started to teach pre-school in addition to elementary kids. Tiring, challenging, ADORABLE.
3. I have moved into a new apartment. IT IS AWESOME. There's a shower. There's a private washing machine. There's a full-sized refrigerator. Storage space. Big windows. 5-minute walk to work. Key-less entry. Several lights that aren't gross florescents. One table for working, another for eating. Enough counter space that I can cut potatoes without an unbelievable balancing act. SCORE.
I just bought new bedding and a new small set of dishes. I've put some things up on the walls, and have begun searching for more. I bought two houseplants, one of which seems to be thriving.
Yesterday, after eating a homemade brunch of grapefruit, strawberries, eggs, potatoes, toast and coffee, I lounged on my bed for a moment, and just thought awhile about how happy I felt. How this abode feels more like home in 2 weeks than my last apartment ever did. How much happier I've gotten in the last few months.
Now that I'm settling into my new digs, and have the internet once more, I'll be back to writing. Please send me needling messages if I lag too far behind.
Love from Seoul,
b
Here are some highlights:
1. A new school year has begun. New students! New schedule!
2. I have started to teach pre-school in addition to elementary kids. Tiring, challenging, ADORABLE.
3. I have moved into a new apartment. IT IS AWESOME. There's a shower. There's a private washing machine. There's a full-sized refrigerator. Storage space. Big windows. 5-minute walk to work. Key-less entry. Several lights that aren't gross florescents. One table for working, another for eating. Enough counter space that I can cut potatoes without an unbelievable balancing act. SCORE.
I just bought new bedding and a new small set of dishes. I've put some things up on the walls, and have begun searching for more. I bought two houseplants, one of which seems to be thriving.
Yesterday, after eating a homemade brunch of grapefruit, strawberries, eggs, potatoes, toast and coffee, I lounged on my bed for a moment, and just thought awhile about how happy I felt. How this abode feels more like home in 2 weeks than my last apartment ever did. How much happier I've gotten in the last few months.
Now that I'm settling into my new digs, and have the internet once more, I'll be back to writing. Please send me needling messages if I lag too far behind.
Love from Seoul,
b
23 February 2010
with a bullet
I had a dream last night that I was shot in the chest. I spent the rest of the dream-evening trying to get myself to an emergency room, but first had to deal with, I believe, some very serious party planning. I woke up before reaching a hospital, seeing the party come to fruition, or bleeding out.
14 February 2010
list of desirable attributes
great sense of humor
ability to make lists
delight in idiosyncrasy
likes to make breakfast in bed. coffee drinker. fiction reader.
understands the sexiness of the Golden Ratio
(making breakfast in bed is HARD! I think you ought to relent on that one. Maybe making it in the kitchen and eating it in bed...?)
(good call. thus amended.)
easy to finish, good pay, few complications
pro-repetition, pro-abstraction
goes to bed without fuss, puts the lid down
lanterns. shadows. dancing.
action, reaction, and full stillness, still fullness
yes make-believe, no pretending
plays well with others
smooth, soft, strong, resilient, easily repaired
stimulating, cost-effective
fascinated
cheap, well-worn
ace at cleaning up spilled milk and spilled marbles
(thank you to Lacey and Charles)
ability to make lists
delight in idiosyncrasy
likes to make breakfast in bed. coffee drinker. fiction reader.
understands the sexiness of the Golden Ratio
(making breakfast in bed is HARD! I think you ought to relent on that one. Maybe making it in the kitchen and eating it in bed...?)
(good call. thus amended.)
easy to finish, good pay, few complications
pro-repetition, pro-abstraction
goes to bed without fuss, puts the lid down
lanterns. shadows. dancing.
action, reaction, and full stillness, still fullness
yes make-believe, no pretending
plays well with others
smooth, soft, strong, resilient, easily repaired
stimulating, cost-effective
fascinated
cheap, well-worn
ace at cleaning up spilled milk and spilled marbles
(thank you to Lacey and Charles)
07 February 2010
all the food, drink, and indie rock you could ask for
Hongdae is the Bedford of Seoul. (This will only make sense to about 0.05% of you.) Plus it smells like Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire on the street where my favorite bar is located.
05 February 2010
On Writing, Part 1
I was having a discussion with some friends the other day about online presence. They were telling me that after a bit of a snafu involving a picture taken out of context and some public parental admonishing, they have begun to carefully monitor what they write and post, on Facebook and blogs, personally and for their mixed media Arts company.
I can understand having a professional face, especially when presenting oneself as a public figure. However, their cleaning up of the rough edges seems not to be for their professional lives so much as for the comfort of their parents. They told me that it has gone far enough that they feel like their online presence totally misrepresents them as people.
I think I just find it frustrating that people I know to be intelligent, creative, and extremely charitable should have to put up such a screen. They have no intention of running for office, they don't have jobs they're going to get fired from for writing about them online, nor do they have things to say that extremely inflammatory in any way.
On my end of the conversation, I talked with them about a chat I had with my parents about this. Over the years, I have learned to be more and more forthcoming with my parents, as they have been with me. Any secrets I may have ever kept were always due to embarrassment rather that they might be disappointed in me as a human being. I know that this makes me one of a lucky few.
So, when my dad first asked for my blog address, sometime when I was living in New York, I gladly gave it to him. He then asked if it made me uncomfortable for him to read it, if I thought it might change the way that I wrote or what I wrote about. I decided that if he didn't feel uncomfortable, then I would just go about my business and he could read all he wanted. (This, I believe, was around the time I wrote a post about throwing up on the subway. We all have moments to be proud of, and ones that we hope other people will learn from or at least laugh at. I think my father, knowing some of his stories, probably got a good laugh from that one.)
Now, this subject came up again recently, as I've moved to the far end of the world and more people have been invited to read. I'm not really dealing with a huge readership, nor do I feel professionally in jeopardy at any time; I don't have my real name connected to the blog in an obvious way, so you'd have to take at least 2 whole minutes to figure out who I was if you didn't already know ... also, while I may find reason to complain about this and that, I don't feel that I complain enough about my employment to get anyone in a twist.
(Being confident and cavalier in this respect may come back to bite me at any time. I am aware of this.)
Anyway, it came up again because of two new groups of readers: 1. A friend's parents, whom I adore and get on with very well, but who don't really know me as an artist or outside the context of their home, where I tend to be less irreverent than in other parts of my life or in my writing. They are reading, I think, mostly to find out about my adventures abroad. Also, as supplementary material to their own child's information. 2. My Grandma. Hi, Grandma!
I was talking with my parents when my mom told me that one of my cousins had showed Grandma how to get to my blog so that she could read it while I'm away. It's pretty cool that my Grandma is that technologically savvy - she's been using computers about a decade longer than my mom. However, when my mom told me that, I got a little nervous. Grandma is a cool lady (you are, Grandma!), but should I tone it down a notch to save her some sweat?
My parent's immediate reaction was to make me PROMISE that I wouldn't let this development effect the tone or style of my writing AT ALL. They basically insisted that I keep writing about whatever is on my mind. The song stuck in my head, my broken heart, my trip to Timbuktu, or a post about being naked with a bunch of Koreans followed directly by a post about my boobs. With whatever colorful language I feel is necessary. And more often, if possible.
I don't know that I have any real conclusion to this line of thought, but that I'm feeling thankful to be supported in that way by the people closest to me. Especially knowing that not everyone is so lucky. Occasionally I pick up a new reader, but I'm hardly in a place where I'm collecting a readership of people who don't already know me. For those who know me well, surely you can hear my voice in the way that I write here, surely you can see me grin or burst into tears. I feel like one of the skills I continue to cultivate as a writer is to balance eloquence with rhythm in a way that marries the way I think with the way that I speak with the way that I write. For those that don't know me well, I feel as though you really might begin to see the complexities in my character that you might miss if we only interact quietly, personally, reverently.
I am a respectful person, but I seek to combine the reverent and the irreverent, a classy elegance with a youthful abandon, loquaciousness with succinctness, for as long as I can put one foot in front of the other, one word after another. I don't ever want to be just one thing, and I don't ever just want to be who you think I am, who you think I should be. (This is important for me to state and restate, as it can sometimes be lost. I lost it for awhile recently, but luckily I'd just misplaced it.)
Thank you and thank you and thank you.
I can understand having a professional face, especially when presenting oneself as a public figure. However, their cleaning up of the rough edges seems not to be for their professional lives so much as for the comfort of their parents. They told me that it has gone far enough that they feel like their online presence totally misrepresents them as people.
I think I just find it frustrating that people I know to be intelligent, creative, and extremely charitable should have to put up such a screen. They have no intention of running for office, they don't have jobs they're going to get fired from for writing about them online, nor do they have things to say that extremely inflammatory in any way.
On my end of the conversation, I talked with them about a chat I had with my parents about this. Over the years, I have learned to be more and more forthcoming with my parents, as they have been with me. Any secrets I may have ever kept were always due to embarrassment rather that they might be disappointed in me as a human being. I know that this makes me one of a lucky few.
So, when my dad first asked for my blog address, sometime when I was living in New York, I gladly gave it to him. He then asked if it made me uncomfortable for him to read it, if I thought it might change the way that I wrote or what I wrote about. I decided that if he didn't feel uncomfortable, then I would just go about my business and he could read all he wanted. (This, I believe, was around the time I wrote a post about throwing up on the subway. We all have moments to be proud of, and ones that we hope other people will learn from or at least laugh at. I think my father, knowing some of his stories, probably got a good laugh from that one.)
Now, this subject came up again recently, as I've moved to the far end of the world and more people have been invited to read. I'm not really dealing with a huge readership, nor do I feel professionally in jeopardy at any time; I don't have my real name connected to the blog in an obvious way, so you'd have to take at least 2 whole minutes to figure out who I was if you didn't already know ... also, while I may find reason to complain about this and that, I don't feel that I complain enough about my employment to get anyone in a twist.
(Being confident and cavalier in this respect may come back to bite me at any time. I am aware of this.)
Anyway, it came up again because of two new groups of readers: 1. A friend's parents, whom I adore and get on with very well, but who don't really know me as an artist or outside the context of their home, where I tend to be less irreverent than in other parts of my life or in my writing. They are reading, I think, mostly to find out about my adventures abroad. Also, as supplementary material to their own child's information. 2. My Grandma. Hi, Grandma!
I was talking with my parents when my mom told me that one of my cousins had showed Grandma how to get to my blog so that she could read it while I'm away. It's pretty cool that my Grandma is that technologically savvy - she's been using computers about a decade longer than my mom. However, when my mom told me that, I got a little nervous. Grandma is a cool lady (you are, Grandma!), but should I tone it down a notch to save her some sweat?
My parent's immediate reaction was to make me PROMISE that I wouldn't let this development effect the tone or style of my writing AT ALL. They basically insisted that I keep writing about whatever is on my mind. The song stuck in my head, my broken heart, my trip to Timbuktu, or a post about being naked with a bunch of Koreans followed directly by a post about my boobs. With whatever colorful language I feel is necessary. And more often, if possible.
I don't know that I have any real conclusion to this line of thought, but that I'm feeling thankful to be supported in that way by the people closest to me. Especially knowing that not everyone is so lucky. Occasionally I pick up a new reader, but I'm hardly in a place where I'm collecting a readership of people who don't already know me. For those who know me well, surely you can hear my voice in the way that I write here, surely you can see me grin or burst into tears. I feel like one of the skills I continue to cultivate as a writer is to balance eloquence with rhythm in a way that marries the way I think with the way that I speak with the way that I write. For those that don't know me well, I feel as though you really might begin to see the complexities in my character that you might miss if we only interact quietly, personally, reverently.
I am a respectful person, but I seek to combine the reverent and the irreverent, a classy elegance with a youthful abandon, loquaciousness with succinctness, for as long as I can put one foot in front of the other, one word after another. I don't ever want to be just one thing, and I don't ever just want to be who you think I am, who you think I should be. (This is important for me to state and restate, as it can sometimes be lost. I lost it for awhile recently, but luckily I'd just misplaced it.)
Thank you and thank you and thank you.
03 February 2010
Your this! They wiggle!
Today I went to see several teachers teaching some wee little ones, in order to prepare for the possibility of a pre-school teaching gig at my campus come March. We got to know a little bit about the curriculum, which includes reading from GIANT books together and singing songs and coloring and a little bit of dancing and singing.
In Cherry class, a little boy wouldn't come inside because he thought I was there to replace his teacher. So much crying.
In Peach class, everyone could read!
In Mango class, they busted out some serious phonics, Thomas and Jade helped me make a picture that turned out to be a boat and a fire fish fighting a water fish. At first, the fire fish was totally winning, but at the last second, the water fish put the smack down.
My favorite part of the day, though, was Claire from Mango. She was pretty sassy, and whenever she blinked it was like she blinked with her whole face. It made her cheeks bob and her forehead scrunch, so she seemed constantly to be blinking, because it was so apparent. While we were coloring, she started laughing hysterically, and when I asked her what was funny, she couldn't breathe well enough to tell me.
Later, while everyone was dancing and singing to The Wiggles (terrifying but understandably awesome for ESL pre-schoolers), she made a point to tell me what had made her laugh.
"Teacher! When you color! Your this! They wiggle!"
My what?
Oooooooh.
My boobs.
"Well, Claire, I love to color."
She then proceeded to tell me the same thing verbatim between every song they sang (so about 19 times), sometimes grabbing my boobs, sometimes gesturing to where hers will be in about 14 years.
And thaaaaaat pretty much made the whole day worth it.
Update: The very next day I got asked the following question by a student:
"Teacher! Why you are not married and these are so big?"
If you can figure out the appropriate interpretation of that question, please let me know.
In Cherry class, a little boy wouldn't come inside because he thought I was there to replace his teacher. So much crying.
In Peach class, everyone could read!
In Mango class, they busted out some serious phonics, Thomas and Jade helped me make a picture that turned out to be a boat and a fire fish fighting a water fish. At first, the fire fish was totally winning, but at the last second, the water fish put the smack down.
My favorite part of the day, though, was Claire from Mango. She was pretty sassy, and whenever she blinked it was like she blinked with her whole face. It made her cheeks bob and her forehead scrunch, so she seemed constantly to be blinking, because it was so apparent. While we were coloring, she started laughing hysterically, and when I asked her what was funny, she couldn't breathe well enough to tell me.
Later, while everyone was dancing and singing to The Wiggles (terrifying but understandably awesome for ESL pre-schoolers), she made a point to tell me what had made her laugh.
"Teacher! When you color! Your this! They wiggle!"
My what?
Oooooooh.
My boobs.
"Well, Claire, I love to color."
She then proceeded to tell me the same thing verbatim between every song they sang (so about 19 times), sometimes grabbing my boobs, sometimes gesturing to where hers will be in about 14 years.
And thaaaaaat pretty much made the whole day worth it.
Update: The very next day I got asked the following question by a student:
"Teacher! Why you are not married and these are so big?"
If you can figure out the appropriate interpretation of that question, please let me know.
31 January 2010
Naked
So, today we're back to regularly scheduled programming, beginning work at 12:45 and working until 8:30ish. So, I got up at 9 and went to the gym, came home, turned on the hot water, took off my clothes, entered the shower/toilet (shoilet) ...
And there is nothing but freezing water.
Apparently they chose the moment I got naked to turn off all the heat and water to do repairs.
Currently I'm cooking breakfast in a towel and hoping that it will come back on in time for a shower before work.
Speaking of being in the buff, yesterday I went to a jimjilbang (a sauna room) for the first time. I've been wanting to go for months, but finally, FINALLY I got up yesterday and new that there was no time like the present. Koreans go all the time. With their friends, with their moms and grandmas, sometimes by themselves. Basically, a public bath. They give your some loose clothes to wear in the main room if you feel like it, but mostly everyone is just naked. I've never been in proximity to so much bare skin in my life. Little kids and old ladies, relaxing and exfoliating, themselves and each other. Picking at blemishes, massaging their fat.
About $7 for a really hot bath, a medium hot bath, a mineral bath, a cold pool, a really cold pool, whirlpools, a high-pressure stream, a wet sauna, a dry sauna, personal washing stations, and regular showers. I enjoyed some time hopping back and forth between the cold and the hot baths, and scrubbed away my dried skin for about an hour ... It made me happy that it's just part of what you do with your friends and family in Korea. I've never felt more comfortable being naked in my life, regardless of being the one tall, pink lady in there. It was a delight to be somewhere where modesty wasn't a consideration.
I want to go at least once a week for the rest of my life.
Well, they're not done fixing the water, but I do have some fried potatoes to eat, so I wish you all a good day.
And there is nothing but freezing water.
Apparently they chose the moment I got naked to turn off all the heat and water to do repairs.
Currently I'm cooking breakfast in a towel and hoping that it will come back on in time for a shower before work.
Speaking of being in the buff, yesterday I went to a jimjilbang (a sauna room) for the first time. I've been wanting to go for months, but finally, FINALLY I got up yesterday and new that there was no time like the present. Koreans go all the time. With their friends, with their moms and grandmas, sometimes by themselves. Basically, a public bath. They give your some loose clothes to wear in the main room if you feel like it, but mostly everyone is just naked. I've never been in proximity to so much bare skin in my life. Little kids and old ladies, relaxing and exfoliating, themselves and each other. Picking at blemishes, massaging their fat.
About $7 for a really hot bath, a medium hot bath, a mineral bath, a cold pool, a really cold pool, whirlpools, a high-pressure stream, a wet sauna, a dry sauna, personal washing stations, and regular showers. I enjoyed some time hopping back and forth between the cold and the hot baths, and scrubbed away my dried skin for about an hour ... It made me happy that it's just part of what you do with your friends and family in Korea. I've never felt more comfortable being naked in my life, regardless of being the one tall, pink lady in there. It was a delight to be somewhere where modesty wasn't a consideration.
I want to go at least once a week for the rest of my life.
Well, they're not done fixing the water, but I do have some fried potatoes to eat, so I wish you all a good day.
26 January 2010
Hey, remember that time we went to thailand?
9 Things About My Trip to Thailand + A Smattering of Photos
1. I ate incredible food at the very least once a day for 10 days.
2. I stayed in a totally legit (and good) hostel, and then a place that called itself a hostel but really would have been a hotel if it hadn't been for 1. no refills on soap and 2. all of the bees I killed nightly. I slept like a log every night in a beautiful big bed, had a private balcony, a small fridge stocked with not-outrageously-priced beverages, and I ate green curry (and eggs shaped like stars and rice shaped like koalas and sausage shaped like octopus) and drank the best pina coladas of my life at their outdoor restaurant seating. The owner was beautiful and gracious and helpful and I would live there with her if she would hire me.
3. Medical conditions abounded amongst, well, two of us. Luckily, health services were helpful and affordable. Thanks, Thailand!
4. I got to spend time with my best friend since forever, reading books, drinking sake. If I could have more of that right now, sign me up.
5. I went skinny dipping. For the first time ever. In the ocean. On the full moon. It was, in fact, TOTALLY MAGICAL.
6. We let lanterns go, holding our hopes and dreams for the coming year. I am hopeful. I am full of dreams. I tried to keep things simple.
7. Lanta was so beautiful we stayed several extra days instead of heading to Bangkok, thanks to the skillful and gracious maneuvering of my travel agent.
8. I took a lot of pictures of drinks, because they were awesome.
9. Go to the Elephant to escape the sun and eat green curry. Go to Bambi's to listen to music and enjoy the most charming atmosphere on the beach.
Thank you, Ko Lanta, for being even more than we'd hoped for.
1. I ate incredible food at the very least once a day for 10 days.
2. I stayed in a totally legit (and good) hostel, and then a place that called itself a hostel but really would have been a hotel if it hadn't been for 1. no refills on soap and 2. all of the bees I killed nightly. I slept like a log every night in a beautiful big bed, had a private balcony, a small fridge stocked with not-outrageously-priced beverages, and I ate green curry (and eggs shaped like stars and rice shaped like koalas and sausage shaped like octopus) and drank the best pina coladas of my life at their outdoor restaurant seating. The owner was beautiful and gracious and helpful and I would live there with her if she would hire me.
3. Medical conditions abounded amongst, well, two of us. Luckily, health services were helpful and affordable. Thanks, Thailand!
4. I got to spend time with my best friend since forever, reading books, drinking sake. If I could have more of that right now, sign me up.
5. I went skinny dipping. For the first time ever. In the ocean. On the full moon. It was, in fact, TOTALLY MAGICAL.
6. We let lanterns go, holding our hopes and dreams for the coming year. I am hopeful. I am full of dreams. I tried to keep things simple.
7. Lanta was so beautiful we stayed several extra days instead of heading to Bangkok, thanks to the skillful and gracious maneuvering of my travel agent.
8. I took a lot of pictures of drinks, because they were awesome.
9. Go to the Elephant to escape the sun and eat green curry. Go to Bambi's to listen to music and enjoy the most charming atmosphere on the beach.
Thank you, Ko Lanta, for being even more than we'd hoped for.
20 January 2010
Monthly Test
Andy, Level K Grade 1
I wake 6 o'clock
I wash face
I wash hands
I clean the theethes
I wear clothes
and go to school
I learns to much
and I am
not happy
end
This about sums up the way I felt in college.
Also, Andy wrote more than one line on his essay! Hooray, Andy! Sorry about life sucking.
I wake 6 o'clock
I wash face
I wash hands
I clean the theethes
I wear clothes
and go to school
I learns to much
and I am
not happy
end
This about sums up the way I felt in college.
Also, Andy wrote more than one line on his essay! Hooray, Andy! Sorry about life sucking.
10 January 2010
Happy New
So, I have some lovely pictures of my amazing vacation in Thailand. They are mostly of drinks and food, as you might guess. However, before I go about posting an assortment, I want to steal some photos from others on the adventure to add to the mix. Then I'll probably set 'em to some music and make it a total experience.
Deadline on that particular project is the end of the week, after I reread Hamlet and Macbeth, organize the mailing list for Savage Umbrella, send pictures to Jeremy, and hang up the clothes that are in a pile on the floor. End of the week, I should dare to hope.
Until then, please know that on Friday I got a haircut from a Korean guy named Kevin, who was awesome. At some point while cutting he made reference to the dye in my hair, and I told him I knew I should take care of it soon.
"Sad color," Kevin said, pointing to my roots. "This is ... sad color."
Yeah, I'm right there with ya, buddy.
So, I got him to dye my hair on Saturday morning when they opened the shop. I read Korean fashion magazines and drank coffee while he got this mane under control, and got the best head massage, complete with Kelp Treatment, that I've ever had in my whole life.
He told me to come back in 2 months, but I may be back there sooner for the sheer joy of the experience. Anyone else needing their hairs done in Korea, I'll give you Kevin's number. Completely worth the totally reasonable price.
Happy 2010. Things are shaping up.
(P.S. I thought Sherlock Holmes was going to be good, and then it was AWESOME. Best solo date I've been on in AGES. I think I saw Snatch for the first time on a solo date, back in 2000. Meant to be.)
Deadline on that particular project is the end of the week, after I reread Hamlet and Macbeth, organize the mailing list for Savage Umbrella, send pictures to Jeremy, and hang up the clothes that are in a pile on the floor. End of the week, I should dare to hope.
Until then, please know that on Friday I got a haircut from a Korean guy named Kevin, who was awesome. At some point while cutting he made reference to the dye in my hair, and I told him I knew I should take care of it soon.
"Sad color," Kevin said, pointing to my roots. "This is ... sad color."
Yeah, I'm right there with ya, buddy.
So, I got him to dye my hair on Saturday morning when they opened the shop. I read Korean fashion magazines and drank coffee while he got this mane under control, and got the best head massage, complete with Kelp Treatment, that I've ever had in my whole life.
He told me to come back in 2 months, but I may be back there sooner for the sheer joy of the experience. Anyone else needing their hairs done in Korea, I'll give you Kevin's number. Completely worth the totally reasonable price.
Happy 2010. Things are shaping up.
(P.S. I thought Sherlock Holmes was going to be good, and then it was AWESOME. Best solo date I've been on in AGES. I think I saw Snatch for the first time on a solo date, back in 2000. Meant to be.)
21 December 2009
dreams
1. I drove my old red car onto a street in Manhattan that I knew I wasn't supposed to be driving on, but I was in a hurry. 20+ militia members, mostly women, appeared from nowhere to point their machine guns at my car. It was made clear to me that I, because I was somehow involved with the police, should have known better than to stray into their territory.
2. Someone was making a movie using some of my students, in our classrooms. They were filming while I was trying to teach, and our classrooms were so big that I was in charge of two classes at a time. In this dream, Kindergarten was in the basement, and the rooms were huuuuuuuuge. Andy had the starring role in this film, and Dylan, from college, appeared out of nowhere to visit. He took off his shirt. It was awkward.
3. I was trying to smuggle Ben and Eric to Mexico, through a tunnel in my basement. I got questioned by the police about it, hoping they wouldn't find the tunnel, in between the two-show-a-night I was performing of something.
The moral of the story:
inner demons + NCIS/CSI/X-FILES before bedtime = adventure
2. Someone was making a movie using some of my students, in our classrooms. They were filming while I was trying to teach, and our classrooms were so big that I was in charge of two classes at a time. In this dream, Kindergarten was in the basement, and the rooms were huuuuuuuuge. Andy had the starring role in this film, and Dylan, from college, appeared out of nowhere to visit. He took off his shirt. It was awkward.
3. I was trying to smuggle Ben and Eric to Mexico, through a tunnel in my basement. I got questioned by the police about it, hoping they wouldn't find the tunnel, in between the two-show-a-night I was performing of something.
The moral of the story:
inner demons + NCIS/CSI/X-FILES before bedtime = adventure
13 December 2009
I'm Not Sorry
(It's hard for me to post anything above #200.)
(But I'm just going to do it, and then it will be done.)
When I was a kid, my uncle Tom always used to get on my case for apologizing too much.
"Don't say your sorry."
"Sorry."
"QUIT IT."
"Sor...er, okay."
Who knows if I ever actually scaled back or not on the apologizing. It's like I was born apologizing for taking up too much space, for breathing too much air. He stopped bugging me about it, after awhile, so for some amount of time it must have gotten better.
Recently, though, the universe has decided to make a point.
First, Todd told me to stop apologizing. Stop saying you're sorry, you don't have to be sorry, etc. I understood the sentiment but didn't think much of it at the time.
A week later, a student that I've had for the past 3 months raised his hand in class.
"Teacher, why you say sorry?"
"What, Andy?"
"Every day, 'Sorry.' It's okay, Teacher, don't be sorry."
"Ummm, thank you, Andy. You're right."
I thought about what he said, and realized I do say "I'm sorry" an awful lot to my students. That is not to say that I don't mean it. I mean it, very much. I believe, however, that the point he was making is not to stop saying I'm sorry, but to stop actually feeling sorry about everything.
This week, he reminded me. "Teacher, I said stop saying sorry." Insert missing-toothed grin here.
Then, last night, at a bar, I squeezed past a large, middle-aged American man. I said I was sorry.
"Hey. Don't say you're sorry."
"Um .... okay. Pardon me?"
"Yeah, that's better. Huh, you're hot."
While I left that last encounter creeped out, I must say:
Alright, Universe. I get the message, and I'm climbing on board.
(But I'm just going to do it, and then it will be done.)
When I was a kid, my uncle Tom always used to get on my case for apologizing too much.
"Don't say your sorry."
"Sorry."
"QUIT IT."
"Sor...er, okay."
Who knows if I ever actually scaled back or not on the apologizing. It's like I was born apologizing for taking up too much space, for breathing too much air. He stopped bugging me about it, after awhile, so for some amount of time it must have gotten better.
Recently, though, the universe has decided to make a point.
First, Todd told me to stop apologizing. Stop saying you're sorry, you don't have to be sorry, etc. I understood the sentiment but didn't think much of it at the time.
A week later, a student that I've had for the past 3 months raised his hand in class.
"Teacher, why you say sorry?"
"What, Andy?"
"Every day, 'Sorry.' It's okay, Teacher, don't be sorry."
"Ummm, thank you, Andy. You're right."
I thought about what he said, and realized I do say "I'm sorry" an awful lot to my students. That is not to say that I don't mean it. I mean it, very much. I believe, however, that the point he was making is not to stop saying I'm sorry, but to stop actually feeling sorry about everything.
This week, he reminded me. "Teacher, I said stop saying sorry." Insert missing-toothed grin here.
Then, last night, at a bar, I squeezed past a large, middle-aged American man. I said I was sorry.
"Hey. Don't say you're sorry."
"Um .... okay. Pardon me?"
"Yeah, that's better. Huh, you're hot."
While I left that last encounter creeped out, I must say:
Alright, Universe. I get the message, and I'm climbing on board.
03 December 2009
two hundred
Sitting at a tiny table, listening to a dance mix, drinking a glass of wine, living on the East side of Seoul, South Korea, is not where I'd have ever guessed I'd be writing the retrospective, behemoth, epic, brilliant, funny, widely read and quoted, earth-shattering 200th post on this blog. However, where did I really expect to be when I wrote this post? Would I have had any guess at all? When I wrote the first post, back in September 2005, did I think I'd write 200 posts in a year or two? Did I know it would take me more than 4 years and 3 major moves to write a mere 200 brief entries on the state of life/ random musings? Did I know that 200 would seem like a milestone? Did I even think I'd make it to 200?
Probably not, since it took me 6 entries to quit writing on a Myspace blog.
I still contend that I've made the right decision. Even if, it turns out, there are myriad other blogging sites that are just as good or perhaps better than this one. I was still right in my assessment that Myspace is an ugly confusing waste of space, and not a place I want to keep my musings, trivial or otherwise. Especially not 200 of them.
Who read this when I first started writing it? 2005, when I wrote about my fascination with bees and random art in Lawrence, KS, and whatever crossed my mind (my style and content haven't every really graduated to a next level, only changing location drastically at certain intervals) ... my last year of undergrad ... I think maybe Josh Efron and LLM, probably Ari because I wrote a lot of it from her computer ... I was just writing for myself, which isn't such a bad way to begin. Even now, even today, my parents reminded me that no matter the audience, I am absolutely forbidden from self-editing, whether it be for content or style. Which is about the best thing your parents could ever forbid you from. "You are forbidden to be anything other than who you are, even if you are at times utterly crass and emotional." Thank you, parents.
So, you've been warned, whoever you are out there, all 3 or 7 or 100 of you, that this 200th post will be a swirling, shifting, non-linear epic retrospective bit of nonsense covering, well, whatever I feel like from the last 4-odd years. Don't say I didn't warn you. I may like lists in short form, but this will be nothing like a list. This will be like a short novel that has no beginning, middle, and ending, despite my constant request for that kind of information from my 8-year-old students. I am currently The Man, requiring that every sentence start with a capital letter and every story have a clear beginning, middle and ending ... but only so they can properly rebel against it when they all decide to write avant garde poetry, in English, when they're 14. Right? Right?
What do I even remember of the time in between? What have become the prevailing memories and attitudes of these last 4 years? It's easy to forget how much you can pack into that little amount of time. Especially when you're young and you haven't settled anywhere in particular and you experience a huge range of emotions at all times.
I just had a really self-conscious moment, you'd think I'd have more of them, where I realized that I'm totally just airing my dirty laundry here for anyone to see. Here it is, flying in the breeze. Who am I hoping will be interested in my dirty laundry? I guess it all stems from my fascination with creative non-fiction. Perhaps I'm hoping that practice will make perfect and someday I really will end up working for This American Life.
Anyway, here it is. Here's the version in brief, and in some places, in detail. Here is what I remember, or what I choose to remember.
There are things I remember which may never have happened but as I recall them so they take place.
So.
Fall 2005. I was living in a studio apartment, sharing a private entrance with one of my best friends who lived across the hall from me. I could leave my dirty coffee cups wherever I pleased, she could eat crunchy crackers for breakfast out of earshot of me (read: we could keep our neuroses beautifully separate from one another). We shared a toaster oven and a coffee pot. We watched movies on her TV, snuggling in her bed. We both did a little bit of pining. Hers panned out, mine was the beginning of the end of yet another painful romance in my life.
Spring 2005. I had a chance to travel to Memphis, Minneapolis, and Santa Fe. I briefly dropped 15 pounds and felt prettier and more physically self-confident that I had in years; I have not ever felt as good since. I drank a lot of water, ate a lot beets, and managed to finish my last semester while finishing my senior project and two plays at the same time. I had crushes on men who designed lights and sound. One dark, one sandy. I speak to neither now, but they still exist somewhere out there.
I moved home, went on dates with two different boys in three months, eventually regretted ever having to leave the second one because he is truly beautiful and talented and kind and really liked me. I directed kids, performed a solo performance, ran around like crazy in a green dress in the Doctor's directorial debut, and spent a lot of time using my new computer, stealing internet and smoking countless cigarettes. I walked around in summer rainstorms and watched bands in basements and bookstores and living rooms.
Fall 2006 - Spring 2007. I moved out of Kansas for the first time in my life, into an apartment that I couldn't afford the security deposit on. I got a job at a bakery, where I proceeded to be consistently late, constantly convinced I'd be fired, and thoroughly looked after and loved. I even spent Thanksgiving in my boss's mother's apartment, looking at original art dedicated to said mother, meeting relatives that worked for NPR and eating 5 different kinds of pie. I got hired at my other job the same day I went to see Little Miss Sunshine with my ex-flame, the one I didn't really tell anyone about until 2007, hereafter referred to as "Collegiate Romance." I, for the first time, really felt the flush of having a major goal and accomplishing it, as an adult. I went to New York to work for a major living idol and not only never got yelled at by him, but got hired to sell tickets, stood in for an actor, and got a hug from one of the grumpiest men on this planet on my last day. Cheers to you, Mr. Sleepy! You are everything I had hoped you would be. You would think I was a twit for talking about you like that. Doesn't make it less true. So, goal accomplished.
I spent some quality time living with two vastly different, beautiful New York ladies, hailing from Kansas and Texas, respectively. I was, incredibly, visited by 1. an adorable Russian beauty, 2. my mother, 3. my father (separate trips, mind you), 4. my best friend since always (we both had colds and watched movies the whole time and it was awesome), and 5. my best friend since college (we drank whiskey and snuggled and fell in love with NY together). That's love - 5 people who paid countless dollars to get on planes and fly to see me.
I had the following restaurants burned into the pleasure center of my brain: 1. liquiteria (juices, smoothies), 2. Blue 9 Burger (the first hamburger I ever spent my own money on), 3. Round the Clock Diner, 4. Dumont, 5. Roebling Tea House, 6. Oslo Coffeeshop, and nothingcanevertopit, 7. MOTO. Baked Apple Pancakes, Baked Eggs with Mixed Greens and Grilled Toast, Daily Risotto, wine and Americanos and not a single taste that wasn't a freaking ballet in my mouth, plus live music in a restaurant with a capacity of about 20... I melted the soul of my favorite boot there, on a space heater at the table by the door... I wish that someone could fly me there to eat RIGHT NOW.
Shortly before my departure from that dirty, pretty city, I busted my chin on the face of a short, gorgeous blond in dark specs named Thom. I remember that evening in the most beautiful detail: a really sharp outfit, including ridiculous mustard yellow boots, The Fall and Rise of the Rising Fallen, free German beer, talking to Peter about books and how he knew that Miranda would quit smoking when they got serious about having a child, smoking cigarettes out the window once most people had cleared out, betting Thom that we would be the last two people there, though we didn't know each other, winning that bet, and having a pretty lovely time wandering around Manhattan and Brooklyn with him thereafter.
Collegiate Romance made an appearance at my going away party, I feel in order to bookend my experience in NY, having unexpectedly appeared at my housewarming party, as well. I remember running down the 5 flights of stairs after him to tell him that I was glad that we were friendly again after all the time that had passed. Which was not untrue.
Summmer 2007. A trek to my version of the Great White North. Finally made a go of it in the city that always acted as a place of solace when it acted as a strange vacation destination. Sat on the couch, unemployed, watching Huff. Worked one day as a temp food service worker, only to show up early and sweat through my white and black, to be rewarded by drinking wine at the temporary boss's digs in the burbs. As pleasant as that turned out to be, luckily I got the only job I really wanted in the Twin Cities, working for the people who reduced a proscenium to a pile of rubble before my very eyes, who could make me laugh at the cruelty of human beings before crying at the beauty, who could turn it all upside down and then make it all make sense again. I got hired to answer their phones and their emails, to arrange their school matinees, and if I could still be there right now, I would be. If I could have saved them, I would have. If I could have won the lottery and been their benefactor, consider it done. Granted, I may have had my complaints, but I was working for people I respected, doing work I didn't mind, and the perks really outweighed to the annoyances, til the very end. I got one of my favorite friends out of the deal, I saw beautiful things being created, I got to spend time creating in their space, and I got to work for yet another of my real, living idols.
"Production Managing" America:aciremA, and I think costing people more money than they made, just to run the sound cues.
Due to some vouching from Elliott, wrangled a coffee date with Skewed Visions. First, it felt like accomplishing a goal, in an embarrassing sort of way. Later, it felt like I was exactly where I had always wanted to be without even knowing it.
Winter 2007. A Christmas Carol Finale, Version I. Met future boyfriend, who ditched me, eventually, via email. Felt like that was karmic retribution, while at the same time feeling like I deserved someone who could quit me to my face. Found out later he was not only a coward but also a cheater. Oh, well.
Did a show I felt was a chore, but got to hang out with great people and play the accordion in the meantime.
Went on a date with a red-headed narcissist. He is alternately worse and much better than I make him out to be.
Spring 2008. Wrote and directed a show that was able to explain more in 10 minutes about my heartbreak than 4 years of alternately talking about it and keeping it a secret had. Got my heart all tangled in something else as a result. May have broken a heart in there somewhere, too.
Saw Rilo Kiley, and realized I really did like their last album.
Quit smoking, with the help of some Juicy Fruit-flavored nicotine gum that really tasted like pepper and eventually I REALLY liked. Smokeless after a decade of delicious cigarettes daily.
Spent a week in California. It's beautiful and looks like a movie set. At least, it does if you spend a week in Orange. I ran into a classmate from college there, which made the world small. I had a week long crush on a boy who was twenty and had a mustache.
Summer/Fall 2008. Haze of job loss and too much fun and too many feelings and a trip to Colorado. A calm descended for a few months, and while the storm that followed perhaps has ended, the aftermath is still being sifted.
Coffee was slung and paper suits were worn and that was beautiful.
My Poison Ivy costume for Halloween was pretty awesome.
Winter 2009. A Christmas Carole Finale Mach 2. More songs, better voice for lack of cigarettes. Handled the Minnesota winter and my life weakly. My car totally made it through the winter, and wasn't so bad, once I got the heater fixed.
Got a job stocking natural foods at a fast-growing and fabulous market. (All food stores are markets at this point in my life, due to teaching vocabulary to small children.) The health of my knees declined while my knowledge of health foods increased exponentially.
Spring 2009. Coffee and kombucha. Pinter. Waking Up in a Strange Place Called Home, running around in uniform, sharing the spotlight with my Mercury Tracer that could be heard for miles around.
Summer 2009. Love Me or Die!, and all of the wonderful people that it involved, and all that it took to accomplish.
Shortly after rehearsing for Artery 24 and eating a giant burrito, my car broke down on Central Avenue and was pushed out of traffic by a variety of strong and very loyal friends, who let me drink their Sonic beverages in the heat, and eventually, my car got towed to the municipal lot. In the end, I donated it, which is the best ending to that story.
My love of a certain few friends swelled beyond measure, just in time for me to board a plane with a suitcase full of unsuitable clothing and a head full of muddled thoughts.
Fall 2009. Oh, yeah. I came here, in part, to be in a position to have lots of time for self-reflection. For self-improvement. I feel like neither is being accomplished, but at least I'm getting a sort of jump start on the first bit by doing some written reflection here, and beginning to write a bit on the weekends. I wanted to be someplace where I didn't need two jobs, where I wasn't constantly attached to extra-curricular activities.
I'm wondering if maybe, while often rendering me too busy for sleep, if perhaps those extra-curriculars didn't offer me a bit of grounding that I'm now missing here in these far reaches. I do miss being with people and making things, and part of my quest was to confirm whether or not I would, in fact, miss that. Okay, I do.
I was asked recently when the last time I'd done something purely selfish was, something that focused inward and attempted to make my life a better one, and in the moment, I completely forgot that this trip was supposed to be that, completely. I've gotten so caught up in whether or not I'm any good at my job, whether I'm ruining the lives (or at least the afternoons) of small children, that I'd forgotten that I came here for no one other than me. That I didn't come here expecting anything more than some solace. Solace that I've not been allowing myself to find.
I came here hoping I'd feel a little more calm, a little less crazy than I had felt back home, by stripping away some of the time consumption ... forgetting that I'd have to learn a whole new skill set, perhaps make a new set of friends, create a whole new temporary little life.
I guess it's time for me to remember what I'm here for and get to it. It's time to be self-centered, in the best way possible. Give myself as much room as I need to become, well, myself. Do all the things I've always wanted to do but felt too busy to actually get done. Learn that making myself happy isn't selfish.
Hey!
List time!
Korea!
PROS:
1. The kids are adorable.
2. They make me laugh.
3. It's cheap to live here.
4. The public transportation is awesome.
5. There is plenty of coffee to drink. (Though I continue to drink powdered instant coffee at work even though it tastes poisonous. I can't stop! MUST GET A COFFEEMAKER!)
6. My job pays my rent.
7. I don't need a visa to go to Thailand for vacation.
8. I get to live alone.
9. I have a friend close by, and we care about what happens to each other.
10. I have some other friends, not too far away, who are delightful.
11. I have internet access.
12. The wine at the Home Plus Express is pretty cheap.
13. I talk to my parents on a regular basis.
14. Teaching is making me want to learn.
15. I have enough time that I will have enough time to go to the gym. When I stop being a slacker.
16. I may get to teach even tinier students next semester. BRING IT.
CONS:
1. I sometimes fear I am confusing my students more than I am teaching them.
2. I hate disciplining students.
3. STOP TALKING. No, I don't mean my students.
4. I am deathly homesick for my parents and those currently braving winter in Minneapolis.
5. I just want to get healthy, and as said above, I am being a slacker. I get no exercise. I eat vegetables only when they come with rice at a restaurant. I eat mostly bread and noodles. I drink mostly coffee and wine. Really, this just sounds like I need some good, serious New Years Resolutions, doesn't it? I just feel like a pale, puffed fish every day, and if I can't get around to doing anything about it now, it's only going to get worse.
6. Please be patient.
7. All my crazy is coming out full force, and I have only a hand full of friends with whom to share it in person. I feel at risk of alienating them with the crazy. It's made me realize that I'd at some point like to work through the crazy, instead of just living through it when it rears its head. I want to feel stronger. I want to be less scared of admitting those parts of myself.
8. I can't explain adverbs and that makes me feel like a fraud.
So, PROS currently outway CONS, in both quality and quantity. So, that's good. I'll keep working on that PROS list. Not so much that I'll stay here forever, mind you, just enough to make the next 9 months as awesome as they can be.
THINGS YOU CAN DO TO MAKE YOUR LIFE BETTER STARTING FROM THE MICRO AND BY YOU I MEAN ME or WINTER 2010:
1. Join a gym.
2. Buy a coffeemaker for the teacher's room.
3. Get some clothes that make you feel less like a slob.
4. Have more dance parties. Alone in your room, just like you like them.
5. Take deep breaths.
6. Go outside more.
7. Really start researching grad schools.
8. Drink more water.
9. Write more. It always makes you feel good.
10. Learn Korean.
Hey. You. I like you. Thank you for reading, and for caring enough to do so. If you made it all the way through this, this MONSTER, congratulations. You win a prize and my unconditional love and gratitude. It was more than a little melodramatic at times. It was more than a little long-winded beginning to end. But for two hundred I've extended "don't self-edit" to "don't edit at all" and this is what you get. So there.
1 degree,
2 bad knees,
2 and 1/2 boyfriends,
3 broken hearts,
4 years,
5 changes of location,
12 jobs,
137 zits,
200 posts,
870 grey hairs,
1000 tears,
2920 cups of coffee,
9430 emails not deleted,
at least 10,000 laughs,
and so much love,
b
Probably not, since it took me 6 entries to quit writing on a Myspace blog.
I still contend that I've made the right decision. Even if, it turns out, there are myriad other blogging sites that are just as good or perhaps better than this one. I was still right in my assessment that Myspace is an ugly confusing waste of space, and not a place I want to keep my musings, trivial or otherwise. Especially not 200 of them.
Who read this when I first started writing it? 2005, when I wrote about my fascination with bees and random art in Lawrence, KS, and whatever crossed my mind (my style and content haven't every really graduated to a next level, only changing location drastically at certain intervals) ... my last year of undergrad ... I think maybe Josh Efron and LLM, probably Ari because I wrote a lot of it from her computer ... I was just writing for myself, which isn't such a bad way to begin. Even now, even today, my parents reminded me that no matter the audience, I am absolutely forbidden from self-editing, whether it be for content or style. Which is about the best thing your parents could ever forbid you from. "You are forbidden to be anything other than who you are, even if you are at times utterly crass and emotional." Thank you, parents.
So, you've been warned, whoever you are out there, all 3 or 7 or 100 of you, that this 200th post will be a swirling, shifting, non-linear epic retrospective bit of nonsense covering, well, whatever I feel like from the last 4-odd years. Don't say I didn't warn you. I may like lists in short form, but this will be nothing like a list. This will be like a short novel that has no beginning, middle, and ending, despite my constant request for that kind of information from my 8-year-old students. I am currently The Man, requiring that every sentence start with a capital letter and every story have a clear beginning, middle and ending ... but only so they can properly rebel against it when they all decide to write avant garde poetry, in English, when they're 14. Right? Right?
What do I even remember of the time in between? What have become the prevailing memories and attitudes of these last 4 years? It's easy to forget how much you can pack into that little amount of time. Especially when you're young and you haven't settled anywhere in particular and you experience a huge range of emotions at all times.
I just had a really self-conscious moment, you'd think I'd have more of them, where I realized that I'm totally just airing my dirty laundry here for anyone to see. Here it is, flying in the breeze. Who am I hoping will be interested in my dirty laundry? I guess it all stems from my fascination with creative non-fiction. Perhaps I'm hoping that practice will make perfect and someday I really will end up working for This American Life.
Anyway, here it is. Here's the version in brief, and in some places, in detail. Here is what I remember, or what I choose to remember.
There are things I remember which may never have happened but as I recall them so they take place.
So.
Fall 2005. I was living in a studio apartment, sharing a private entrance with one of my best friends who lived across the hall from me. I could leave my dirty coffee cups wherever I pleased, she could eat crunchy crackers for breakfast out of earshot of me (read: we could keep our neuroses beautifully separate from one another). We shared a toaster oven and a coffee pot. We watched movies on her TV, snuggling in her bed. We both did a little bit of pining. Hers panned out, mine was the beginning of the end of yet another painful romance in my life.
Spring 2005. I had a chance to travel to Memphis, Minneapolis, and Santa Fe. I briefly dropped 15 pounds and felt prettier and more physically self-confident that I had in years; I have not ever felt as good since. I drank a lot of water, ate a lot beets, and managed to finish my last semester while finishing my senior project and two plays at the same time. I had crushes on men who designed lights and sound. One dark, one sandy. I speak to neither now, but they still exist somewhere out there.
I moved home, went on dates with two different boys in three months, eventually regretted ever having to leave the second one because he is truly beautiful and talented and kind and really liked me. I directed kids, performed a solo performance, ran around like crazy in a green dress in the Doctor's directorial debut, and spent a lot of time using my new computer, stealing internet and smoking countless cigarettes. I walked around in summer rainstorms and watched bands in basements and bookstores and living rooms.
Fall 2006 - Spring 2007. I moved out of Kansas for the first time in my life, into an apartment that I couldn't afford the security deposit on. I got a job at a bakery, where I proceeded to be consistently late, constantly convinced I'd be fired, and thoroughly looked after and loved. I even spent Thanksgiving in my boss's mother's apartment, looking at original art dedicated to said mother, meeting relatives that worked for NPR and eating 5 different kinds of pie. I got hired at my other job the same day I went to see Little Miss Sunshine with my ex-flame, the one I didn't really tell anyone about until 2007, hereafter referred to as "Collegiate Romance." I, for the first time, really felt the flush of having a major goal and accomplishing it, as an adult. I went to New York to work for a major living idol and not only never got yelled at by him, but got hired to sell tickets, stood in for an actor, and got a hug from one of the grumpiest men on this planet on my last day. Cheers to you, Mr. Sleepy! You are everything I had hoped you would be. You would think I was a twit for talking about you like that. Doesn't make it less true. So, goal accomplished.
I spent some quality time living with two vastly different, beautiful New York ladies, hailing from Kansas and Texas, respectively. I was, incredibly, visited by 1. an adorable Russian beauty, 2. my mother, 3. my father (separate trips, mind you), 4. my best friend since always (we both had colds and watched movies the whole time and it was awesome), and 5. my best friend since college (we drank whiskey and snuggled and fell in love with NY together). That's love - 5 people who paid countless dollars to get on planes and fly to see me.
I had the following restaurants burned into the pleasure center of my brain: 1. liquiteria (juices, smoothies), 2. Blue 9 Burger (the first hamburger I ever spent my own money on), 3. Round the Clock Diner, 4. Dumont, 5. Roebling Tea House, 6. Oslo Coffeeshop, and nothingcanevertopit, 7. MOTO. Baked Apple Pancakes, Baked Eggs with Mixed Greens and Grilled Toast, Daily Risotto, wine and Americanos and not a single taste that wasn't a freaking ballet in my mouth, plus live music in a restaurant with a capacity of about 20... I melted the soul of my favorite boot there, on a space heater at the table by the door... I wish that someone could fly me there to eat RIGHT NOW.
Shortly before my departure from that dirty, pretty city, I busted my chin on the face of a short, gorgeous blond in dark specs named Thom. I remember that evening in the most beautiful detail: a really sharp outfit, including ridiculous mustard yellow boots, The Fall and Rise of the Rising Fallen, free German beer, talking to Peter about books and how he knew that Miranda would quit smoking when they got serious about having a child, smoking cigarettes out the window once most people had cleared out, betting Thom that we would be the last two people there, though we didn't know each other, winning that bet, and having a pretty lovely time wandering around Manhattan and Brooklyn with him thereafter.
Collegiate Romance made an appearance at my going away party, I feel in order to bookend my experience in NY, having unexpectedly appeared at my housewarming party, as well. I remember running down the 5 flights of stairs after him to tell him that I was glad that we were friendly again after all the time that had passed. Which was not untrue.
Summmer 2007. A trek to my version of the Great White North. Finally made a go of it in the city that always acted as a place of solace when it acted as a strange vacation destination. Sat on the couch, unemployed, watching Huff. Worked one day as a temp food service worker, only to show up early and sweat through my white and black, to be rewarded by drinking wine at the temporary boss's digs in the burbs. As pleasant as that turned out to be, luckily I got the only job I really wanted in the Twin Cities, working for the people who reduced a proscenium to a pile of rubble before my very eyes, who could make me laugh at the cruelty of human beings before crying at the beauty, who could turn it all upside down and then make it all make sense again. I got hired to answer their phones and their emails, to arrange their school matinees, and if I could still be there right now, I would be. If I could have saved them, I would have. If I could have won the lottery and been their benefactor, consider it done. Granted, I may have had my complaints, but I was working for people I respected, doing work I didn't mind, and the perks really outweighed to the annoyances, til the very end. I got one of my favorite friends out of the deal, I saw beautiful things being created, I got to spend time creating in their space, and I got to work for yet another of my real, living idols.
"Production Managing" America:aciremA, and I think costing people more money than they made, just to run the sound cues.
Due to some vouching from Elliott, wrangled a coffee date with Skewed Visions. First, it felt like accomplishing a goal, in an embarrassing sort of way. Later, it felt like I was exactly where I had always wanted to be without even knowing it.
Winter 2007. A Christmas Carol Finale, Version I. Met future boyfriend, who ditched me, eventually, via email. Felt like that was karmic retribution, while at the same time feeling like I deserved someone who could quit me to my face. Found out later he was not only a coward but also a cheater. Oh, well.
Did a show I felt was a chore, but got to hang out with great people and play the accordion in the meantime.
Went on a date with a red-headed narcissist. He is alternately worse and much better than I make him out to be.
Spring 2008. Wrote and directed a show that was able to explain more in 10 minutes about my heartbreak than 4 years of alternately talking about it and keeping it a secret had. Got my heart all tangled in something else as a result. May have broken a heart in there somewhere, too.
Saw Rilo Kiley, and realized I really did like their last album.
Quit smoking, with the help of some Juicy Fruit-flavored nicotine gum that really tasted like pepper and eventually I REALLY liked. Smokeless after a decade of delicious cigarettes daily.
Spent a week in California. It's beautiful and looks like a movie set. At least, it does if you spend a week in Orange. I ran into a classmate from college there, which made the world small. I had a week long crush on a boy who was twenty and had a mustache.
Summer/Fall 2008. Haze of job loss and too much fun and too many feelings and a trip to Colorado. A calm descended for a few months, and while the storm that followed perhaps has ended, the aftermath is still being sifted.
Coffee was slung and paper suits were worn and that was beautiful.
My Poison Ivy costume for Halloween was pretty awesome.
Winter 2009. A Christmas Carole Finale Mach 2. More songs, better voice for lack of cigarettes. Handled the Minnesota winter and my life weakly. My car totally made it through the winter, and wasn't so bad, once I got the heater fixed.
Got a job stocking natural foods at a fast-growing and fabulous market. (All food stores are markets at this point in my life, due to teaching vocabulary to small children.) The health of my knees declined while my knowledge of health foods increased exponentially.
Spring 2009. Coffee and kombucha. Pinter. Waking Up in a Strange Place Called Home, running around in uniform, sharing the spotlight with my Mercury Tracer that could be heard for miles around.
Summer 2009. Love Me or Die!, and all of the wonderful people that it involved, and all that it took to accomplish.
Shortly after rehearsing for Artery 24 and eating a giant burrito, my car broke down on Central Avenue and was pushed out of traffic by a variety of strong and very loyal friends, who let me drink their Sonic beverages in the heat, and eventually, my car got towed to the municipal lot. In the end, I donated it, which is the best ending to that story.
My love of a certain few friends swelled beyond measure, just in time for me to board a plane with a suitcase full of unsuitable clothing and a head full of muddled thoughts.
Fall 2009. Oh, yeah. I came here, in part, to be in a position to have lots of time for self-reflection. For self-improvement. I feel like neither is being accomplished, but at least I'm getting a sort of jump start on the first bit by doing some written reflection here, and beginning to write a bit on the weekends. I wanted to be someplace where I didn't need two jobs, where I wasn't constantly attached to extra-curricular activities.
I'm wondering if maybe, while often rendering me too busy for sleep, if perhaps those extra-curriculars didn't offer me a bit of grounding that I'm now missing here in these far reaches. I do miss being with people and making things, and part of my quest was to confirm whether or not I would, in fact, miss that. Okay, I do.
I was asked recently when the last time I'd done something purely selfish was, something that focused inward and attempted to make my life a better one, and in the moment, I completely forgot that this trip was supposed to be that, completely. I've gotten so caught up in whether or not I'm any good at my job, whether I'm ruining the lives (or at least the afternoons) of small children, that I'd forgotten that I came here for no one other than me. That I didn't come here expecting anything more than some solace. Solace that I've not been allowing myself to find.
I came here hoping I'd feel a little more calm, a little less crazy than I had felt back home, by stripping away some of the time consumption ... forgetting that I'd have to learn a whole new skill set, perhaps make a new set of friends, create a whole new temporary little life.
I guess it's time for me to remember what I'm here for and get to it. It's time to be self-centered, in the best way possible. Give myself as much room as I need to become, well, myself. Do all the things I've always wanted to do but felt too busy to actually get done. Learn that making myself happy isn't selfish.
Hey!
List time!
Korea!
PROS:
1. The kids are adorable.
2. They make me laugh.
3. It's cheap to live here.
4. The public transportation is awesome.
5. There is plenty of coffee to drink. (Though I continue to drink powdered instant coffee at work even though it tastes poisonous. I can't stop! MUST GET A COFFEEMAKER!)
6. My job pays my rent.
7. I don't need a visa to go to Thailand for vacation.
8. I get to live alone.
9. I have a friend close by, and we care about what happens to each other.
10. I have some other friends, not too far away, who are delightful.
11. I have internet access.
12. The wine at the Home Plus Express is pretty cheap.
13. I talk to my parents on a regular basis.
14. Teaching is making me want to learn.
15. I have enough time that I will have enough time to go to the gym. When I stop being a slacker.
16. I may get to teach even tinier students next semester. BRING IT.
CONS:
1. I sometimes fear I am confusing my students more than I am teaching them.
2. I hate disciplining students.
3. STOP TALKING. No, I don't mean my students.
4. I am deathly homesick for my parents and those currently braving winter in Minneapolis.
5. I just want to get healthy, and as said above, I am being a slacker. I get no exercise. I eat vegetables only when they come with rice at a restaurant. I eat mostly bread and noodles. I drink mostly coffee and wine. Really, this just sounds like I need some good, serious New Years Resolutions, doesn't it? I just feel like a pale, puffed fish every day, and if I can't get around to doing anything about it now, it's only going to get worse.
6. Please be patient.
7. All my crazy is coming out full force, and I have only a hand full of friends with whom to share it in person. I feel at risk of alienating them with the crazy. It's made me realize that I'd at some point like to work through the crazy, instead of just living through it when it rears its head. I want to feel stronger. I want to be less scared of admitting those parts of myself.
8. I can't explain adverbs and that makes me feel like a fraud.
So, PROS currently outway CONS, in both quality and quantity. So, that's good. I'll keep working on that PROS list. Not so much that I'll stay here forever, mind you, just enough to make the next 9 months as awesome as they can be.
THINGS YOU CAN DO TO MAKE YOUR LIFE BETTER STARTING FROM THE MICRO AND BY YOU I MEAN ME or WINTER 2010:
1. Join a gym.
2. Buy a coffeemaker for the teacher's room.
3. Get some clothes that make you feel less like a slob.
4. Have more dance parties. Alone in your room, just like you like them.
5. Take deep breaths.
6. Go outside more.
7. Really start researching grad schools.
8. Drink more water.
9. Write more. It always makes you feel good.
10. Learn Korean.
Hey. You. I like you. Thank you for reading, and for caring enough to do so. If you made it all the way through this, this MONSTER, congratulations. You win a prize and my unconditional love and gratitude. It was more than a little melodramatic at times. It was more than a little long-winded beginning to end. But for two hundred I've extended "don't self-edit" to "don't edit at all" and this is what you get. So there.
1 degree,
2 bad knees,
2 and 1/2 boyfriends,
3 broken hearts,
4 years,
5 changes of location,
12 jobs,
137 zits,
200 posts,
870 grey hairs,
1000 tears,
2920 cups of coffee,
9430 emails not deleted,
at least 10,000 laughs,
and so much love,
b
18 November 2009
pleased to meet you
2 cryers today, HOWEVER, Julie made friends with Monica today and started to speak, out loud, in sentences. BREAKTHROUGH, PEOPLE. It was awesome.
I wish you could see all of these kids, in person, in all their rambunctious, idiosyncratic glory. In our most fluid moments, it's like conducting, paying attention to each instrument at once, giving them their moment, trying to fit them all into an understandable whole. In many moments, we're a mash up of marching band and orchestra, everyone playing at once in a totally different keys, drummers and brass and squeaky violins, me with a broken conductor's wand, so small that no one can see me waving it furiously.
And so it goes.
Speaking of 'furiously,' today we did adverbs in the 2nd grade level class, and while it's easy to teach 'describes a verb,' it's not so easy when it's 'describes an adjective or another adverb.' Also, 'ends in -ly' is one thing, but then there's 'there' and 'here' and 'then' and 'now,' which really ought to be 3 lessons instead of just one. Also, I don't remember EVER learning about adverbs. Not directly, not by name. Ever. Whoops.
*
So, since I've only received input from one source as to the subject matter to be covered in the impending weblog #200, THIS IS SERIOUS PEOPLE, I'm going to guess it's going to run a little like this: a life in review, 2005 - present. Epic. Sprawling. Incoherent and ridiculous. You ready for that? Yeah? If you have a better idea, or something you wish to be included, bring it, and bring it fast, 'cause I'm crankin' that baby out by the weekend.
Do you like how I write sometimes like I have an opera house's worth of an audience, instead of an intimate room full of the five of you? It's a lot like when I start talking to a crowd of 50 when I'm really only talking to my one friend who's sitting across from me. I need to be reigned in sometimes, and sometimes, it's just best to let me go.
I wish you could see all of these kids, in person, in all their rambunctious, idiosyncratic glory. In our most fluid moments, it's like conducting, paying attention to each instrument at once, giving them their moment, trying to fit them all into an understandable whole. In many moments, we're a mash up of marching band and orchestra, everyone playing at once in a totally different keys, drummers and brass and squeaky violins, me with a broken conductor's wand, so small that no one can see me waving it furiously.
And so it goes.
Speaking of 'furiously,' today we did adverbs in the 2nd grade level class, and while it's easy to teach 'describes a verb,' it's not so easy when it's 'describes an adjective or another adverb.' Also, 'ends in -ly' is one thing, but then there's 'there' and 'here' and 'then' and 'now,' which really ought to be 3 lessons instead of just one. Also, I don't remember EVER learning about adverbs. Not directly, not by name. Ever. Whoops.
*
So, since I've only received input from one source as to the subject matter to be covered in the impending weblog #200, THIS IS SERIOUS PEOPLE, I'm going to guess it's going to run a little like this: a life in review, 2005 - present. Epic. Sprawling. Incoherent and ridiculous. You ready for that? Yeah? If you have a better idea, or something you wish to be included, bring it, and bring it fast, 'cause I'm crankin' that baby out by the weekend.
Do you like how I write sometimes like I have an opera house's worth of an audience, instead of an intimate room full of the five of you? It's a lot like when I start talking to a crowd of 50 when I'm really only talking to my one friend who's sitting across from me. I need to be reigned in sometimes, and sometimes, it's just best to let me go.
Venus from chewingmedulla on Vimeo.
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