I Go Back

Ok first of all...today was absolutely gorgeous. Blue sky, warm weather, chacos on my feet. That's enough for celebration if you ask me. I realized today how much I love spring (it's coming, it's coming!), and that's what I'm going to miss most while in Arizona - all four seasons. Today also made me homesick for Maine... this was like a perfect summer day in June at Popham, and I got all nostalgic thinking about it. I will find some way to get up to Popham this summer, even if it's only for a few days. I need to see my "brothers from another mother," all my scuba friends (oh poor Richard!! He's probably sick of getting short air fills... ALL BECAUSE OF ME!), and the rest of my favorite summer family. I'm putting pictures at the bottom...

Anyway, so the weather made me really happy... until my meeting with my independent study advisor. I was going to ask him if we could discuss this week's readings (Fatelessness and This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen, along with Night) outside, but he beat me to the punch, suggesting it himself. So out we went. We, however, apparently had different things in mind... whereas I wanted to sit, pull out my notes, and chat about the texts, he wanted to walk. I swear, we circled the campus twice. Granted it was really nice, but I felt like an idiot walking around and shuffling my notes, trying to carry on a somewhat intelligent sounding conversation. Anyway, I get to read Primo Levi for next week, which is exciting- I've been looking for an excuse to read his books. Professor Smith suggested Survival in Auschwitz. The thing about this independent study is that my weekly assignments are based on what I bring up in our discussion. This week I was really focused on what happens when victims become perps... so now I'm reading Levi's book as well as "The Grey Zone," an essay by him on that very subject. It's really nice to have all this freedom, but we're not following the proposal AT ALL... so I'm interested to see where this goes. I'm a little nervous about tying everything together in a final paper, and when I brought that up today, Smith shrugged it off saying that we're "not going to worry about that." What does that mean?! Does it mean that we're not going to worry about that yet? (Because clearly I've already started.) Or does it mean that we're not going to worry about that EVER? (I think I like this option best.) Whatever, I'll figure it out next week!

Popham.....One of my favorite pictures... taken from Portland Head after a successful dive with JJ

Wood Island with the Pond lighthouse in the background (view from the beach)

Navigating the frigid (54 degree) waters

This is normal if you live with a lobsterman (right side of the fridge)

My favorite lobster boat in the background, the Percy Queen. I went lobstering with Uncle Jack and Richard two years ago for the first and last time. Let's just say I don't have the ability to be a lobsterwoman... you can probably guess why.

Ahh, the memories!

Laughable

I had a horrifying kitchen experience tonight. I made dinner for me and my boyfriend, but I wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing, and I put my lovely Pyrex baking dish on the stove. Not a big deal until you realize that the burner was on low. I, unfortunately, didn't realize that until the dish exploded, sending glass and chicken clear across the kitchen and living room. It was a disaster. Not only was the suite a mess, but my green bean casserole AND yellow rice was ruined by the glass as well. So much for leftovers. Oh well. At least A didn't care... even I thought it was pretty funny. Really though, how dumb can I get? But then I didn't feel so bad when, later on, one of my hallmates blew a fuse in his bathroom when he plugged two hair dryers into the same outlet. The irony -- he's an electrical engineer.

Oh good times on our floor!

Valentine

I would just like to say how wonderful this Valentine's Day has been. I mean, it was definitely nice to have a Valentine :) but beyond that, it was just a nice day during which I was able to tell certain people how much they mean to me and vice versa. For instance, my dad, who is not one for sentimentality, won major points this year. Let me explain. I get a card from him on Tuesday with a picture of Minnie Mouse on the front - I'm 22 and as far as I know, I've never had strong feelings toward Minnie Mouse. So then I open it, expecting something great inside. Nothing but "Love, Dad." So the thought was very nice, but I'll tell you that the card ended up in the trash can very soon after that.

Then Wednesday, he pulls through, and I get the following message in my inbox:
"I know I didn't write anything on my card but wanted to share my thoughts: We had a wonderful year together. The diving was great and you are a great diving buddy. Give some credit to your instructor and training in Maine. I have thouroughly enjoyed our trips and am very comfortable with you as a diving buddy. As for the necklace, I have wanted to do that for some time, but wanted you to be of the age that it meant something. I guess now we go into the next era of young adulthood and your transition from college student to the work force. Always know that I will be there for you and that I will always be there to help. Love, Dad."

First of all, my Dad is a seasoned scuba/cave diver; he's been doing it for over 40 years and has logged over 1700 dives. He is VERY VERY sparse with compliments. My mom, who was his diving buddy until I took away her free time, has always complained to me that all he did was criticize her; he never offered his praise, just his criticism - "remember that your feet should be on the same line as your head, if not a little above it." Drove her crazy. So when Dad and I get out of the water after a dive and he nods at me and says "good dive," it means a lot (seriously, he's not one of words!). Then to get this email that says he's very comfortable with me as a buddy... I almost fell out of my chair. I've only logged 50ish dives... I'm still a long way behind him but that boosts my confidence in my talents and abilities under water.

Then the whole necklace thing... he reset a star sapphire from one of his rings and gave it to me for Christmas as a necklace. It doesn't seem like a big deal, but it is by FAR the most sentimental gift I've EVER received. So it meant a lot to me. Besides, it's GORGEOUS. So, again, very touching for him to comment on it.

Finally, the fact that he supports me as I move to Arizona is a big deal... I remember when I got the job offer... I called him the next day, and he said, "We'll discuss it when you come home." And, in response, I lowered my voice and replied, "No, sir. There will be no discussion." In retrospect, probably not the best move, but he accepted the fact that TFA is where my heart is. So now, even though he's not entirely happy, he's supportive, and that's more than I hoped for! Right after I got the TFA job, I was at a loss at how to explain the mission to my parents, so one of my friends recommended getting a copy of Wendy Kopp's book One Day All Children. So I ordered three copies, one for me, one for my mom, and one for my dad. In my heart, I knew that ordering a copy for my dad was probably worthless because, unlike me, he doesn't really read anything except the newspaper. But I did anyway, and at the beginning of Thanksgiving break, I dropped it off at his house. When I came back at the end of teh week to say adios, the binding was broken. When I asked about it, he admitted that he had started reading it. I think that was the first sign that everything was going to be alright (and good thing too, since at that time, I had already signed my contract!!).

So anyway, the point of this rambling is that though Valentine's Day can be annoying, it definitely wasn't this year and helped me to remember why I love the people in my life so much. That's all.

You've Got a Friend

Things have been so busy in the past week, it's almost unbelievable. But I've made it through, and now I'm in the lull before it all picks up again.

One of my really good high school friends called me yesterday to tell me that she is coming up to Nashville this weekend. She's coming to visit people; some of her Japan friends are here, so she's going to hang out with us all. My big plans are to take her to Pancake Pantry. If you come to Nashville, you HAVE to have some Pancake Pantry, so I'm introducing her to the tradition. Then she said she wants to shop, which is fine (I'll be looking for summer clothes and teacher shoes if that's the case!). I might take her to Opry Land if she has the desire to go to Opry Mills. I've actually only seen Opry Land at Christmas time, so this could be a treat. Anyway, I'm excited to host her and let her see campus and meet my friends. It means though, that I'll have to work like a DOG to get things done!! No biggie!

school house rock

after stressing out all day about teach for america, i am finally starting to get a little more peace. i think i know when i'm going to move out there (end of may), i know from which school my master's degree is coming (i just don't know what the degree is in.. i prefer english education, but i might have to accept secondary education), and the best news is that i don't have to take the gre!! it's waived for tfa corps members!!! how freakin exciting is that?! and i'm going to arizona state university, so that's a decent school, too. it seems that life is on the upswing if only i can get this paper written!

stay awake

i'm so tired i can hardly think!! i can't wait for this week (and next) to be over so i can be social and have a life again......

Feels Like Home to Me

I thought it would be funny to juxtapose the post from early this morning (see below) with a poem I wrote last year for extra credit. It's a parody on a 17th century type of poetry that praises a home or dwelling. I clearly switched it up...

To Mayfield Thirteen

Most Definitely, dear Mayfield, thou art not the envy of all,
For better furnishings we could find at our local mall.
Of ten tiny bedrooms you boast,
Which would seem a brothel to most.
Day after day we fight for time in one of two bathrooms
In which we desire space to groom.
The temperature in my room is never quite right
Because over the thermostat we always do fight.
The floor I dare not touch with feet bare
For who knows what disease might be living there.
Within our oven, food we cannot cook,
As we do not appreciate the resulting scorch-ed look.
The tiny sink is always piled high
With dishes so dirty I want to cry.
When I open cupboards I must cover my head
From falling dishes -- oh, the bruises I dread.
But alas the school year has come to an end,
And from you, dear Mayfield, my belongings I do send.
Next year I will enjoy my room in Towers,
in which from fear I will not have to cower.
(April 27, 2006)

Ha! It's so funny to go back and read that... I enjoyed it. I hope you did too.

Home

I love how the temperature is never quite right and how I'm always freezing cold or burning up.
I love how the pipes in the shower sing annoyingly if you don't turn the knob far enough.
I love how our storage closet is the place for weird smells, luggage, and alcohol.
I love how my bed squeaks annoyingly everytime I breathe.
I love how when the overhead flourescent light is on, you're blinded, but when it's off, you can't see.
I love that we never had a remote for our T.V.
I love how the table in the common room is a free-for-all for candy and other junk food.
I love how there's a fresh cake or batch of brownies at least once a week.
I love how the microwave is used most often for making tea rather than T.V. dinners.
I love how lunch time becomes a time for Full House, The Cosby Show, and casual conversation.
I love how doors are always open.
I love how privacy is a shared affair.
I love how we are all independent yet dependent.
I love how pictures are taken more often than not.
I love how individual rooms become communal places.
I even love the vomit stain in the middle of our hallway.
But above all, I love us and love how our lives have become intertwined this year.

Do not be mistaken... this is not a sad attempt at poetry; on the other hand, it is a catalog of 703, the place and the people -- things I will miss most of all next year. Sorry, apparently not being able to sleep brings about sentimentality.

Worlds Apart

Tonight I found out some sad and troubling news. Three people on a mission trip to Honduras died in an accident involving an open-air army truck. I've ridden in these kinds of trucks numerous times on my own adventures in Honduras, and it's scary to think that people are dead because of them.

I love HOI and the work that they do, and I don't like knowing that they will be facing problems because of this accident. My prayers are with the families of the victims, their team members, and the Honduran and American staff of Honduras Outreach.

A Conversation.

Good weekend.

Friday night was just spent relaxing in the suite. We watched Ten Things I Hate About You, which I especially love since reading The Taming of the Shrew. My Shakespeare action figure is looking down on me and smiling with glee.

Speaking of Shakespeare... I'm trying to figure out how to get myself out to Phoenix, back to Atlanta, and out to Phoenix again. I don't think the problem is me as much as my ridiculous amount of stuff. This moving across the country thing isn't as much fun as you would think it might be. But I'm getting more and more excited about being an English teacher. I don't think I'm going to have a clue what I'm doing, but I know I'm going to have fun trying. I keep thinking of all these random things I want to do with classes... despite the fact that I don't know what or even what grade level I'm teaching.

I'm so happy that I know what I'm doing with the next two years of my life. Granted, two years is not a long time, but it's two more years that I get to put off the future. That doesn't really make sense... but in my head it kind of works. But then, today, someone asked me what I was going to do after Teach for America. Oh my gosh... I don't know what I'm doing tomorrow, let alone what I'm going to do in two years. I've actually been thinking about it, and there are so many options out there. I've been thinking about going back to school to get my m.div. or possibly going back to get a degree in english lit, although who knows what i would ever do with that! but that's a long way away. I discovered recently that I'm already having trouble living in the present, so I need to concentrate on doing that rather than thinking about life AFTER TFA, which is such a long time in the future.

Anyway, back to the weekend (stream of consciousness... I told you!) -- my best friend's dad came into town for some work thing, and so he took both of us out to a late lunch today and then we went back to his hotel room and watched the Super Bowl from a really comfy bed! I love her parents, and it was actually really nice to get off of campus for awhile.

But now the weekend's over and it's back to the grind. EW. I'm still behind on work, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever catch up... maybe I'll go read for tomorrow...

Open Skies?

So I'm having a bit of a problem with this blog thing. Before I started writing, I thought about this blog as a journal that just happened to be online. The problem with that, however, is that it is not private IN ANY WAY as journals typically are. So even though I feel like this may not be read very frequently, I still feel like I have to sensor my own thoughts. That's an extremely disconcerting idea... the fact that I can't really openly discuss what's going on in my own head... but at the same time, isn't that real life?? I mean, there are definitely things that I don't say to my own family and friends, things that I sensor from my own everyday conversations... so I guess if I just think of this as a conversation, then all will be normal, right? There's still this nagging thought that it's writing... I'm so used to just free-slowing when it comes to writing... I guess for the time being, I will just have to put that on hold.

So anyway, welcome to my blog, which will be, well... random. Random and probably incoherent. Expect stream of consciousness, rambling, and possibly (if you are lucky) a profound thought.

Keep on.