Guess what I was doing this weekend? Visiting the wonderful world of Nostalgia.
1.People do not change much, relatively speaking. A pair of corollaries demonstrate this:
a.The girl who would have been voted Biggest Flirt (had your school done such shenanigans) would still be elected Biggest Flirt. However, it’s a much more dangerous title now because everyone present is of legal drinking age, and who knows what can happen.
b.The bar/grill/banquet room/picnic shelter/dance floor where the reunion is held resembles your high school cafeteria circa fifteen years ago. The athletes had their reserved tables, and the mortals sat somewhere else. The same is true at the reunion, except the mortals no longer give a rat’s ass about the athletes because the athletes have protruding bellies and receding hairlines. The male ones, too.
2.Inevitably, a drunken guy will shuffle over to the jukebox where you are picking some sweet tunes, and punch in a random number, completely usurping one of your plays.
3.The guy who was the dark horse Prom King candidate turns out to be a lawyer.
4.You will meet people that inspire you, like the person who freelances for a living or the person who is moving to Zambia in, like, two weeks.
5.The B-52’s “Love Shack” will be played at least once on the jukebox. Which is fine. The 25-minute B-side by The Doors is not.
6.Being sober at a function like this is way more fun than the alternative.
7.You realize the popular kid you elected your Class President is not a very good organizer, and thus you should have nominated somebody who had a vision for the future.
8.The guy you had a crush on is no longer as appealing as he was back in 1993.
9.Those of you who attend the reunion realize you should elect a Reunion King and Queen, and preferably, these people should not have gone to your high school.
10.People you haven’t spoken to you for fifteen years will all of a sudden want to sloppily hug you as you leave for the night.
28 September 2008
22 September 2008
The Great Contemplation
So, here I am. White, middle class female. Three kids, stable marriage, nice house, solid income, able to enjoy most comforts of life.
I work as a teacher at the local high school. I would say my job is fairly secure. It has its ups and downs, but for the most part I would categorize my work life as OK. I don't hate it, but I don't love it.
And that is why I am thinking about getting out.
This year, for the first time in my life, I was not energized by the first day of school. I was not looking forward to school starting. The kids have not changed drastically, but I don't enjoy being with them as much anymore. Colleagues that I normally enjoy socializing with have recently begun to get on my nerves. I feel that I have become less of a teacher and more of a facilitator...or some other word that really is not that cool. It's all about the test scores, or getting off THE LIST, or another initiative designed to help kids, but is actually too complicated and cumbersome to really implement.
There are a lot of other things coming into play here, but my dissatisfaction with my job is top of the list. And I don't see it changing soon. I feel like in someways I'm seeing the writing on the wall and getting out before it's too late and I become bitter.
However, not being a fancy-free twenty-something anymore, there has to be a plan. Brent says there was to be a plan. I can't just quit, and wander aimlessly in the wilderness. There are bills to be paid and kids to be provided for.
So - the question is now: What do I want to do for a living that will allow me to be a good mom and wife, and yet will contribute to the GNP in some way?
Well, I know what I'd like to do for a living. This. Write. Obviously, I probably wouldn't get paid for blogging, but freelance writing might take care of some of the bills, yes? I love to write, and I even fancy that I'm moderately good at it. But could I do it professionally? There's the deep jump into the unknown.
I don't have all the answers yet. But times, they are a-changing.
I work as a teacher at the local high school. I would say my job is fairly secure. It has its ups and downs, but for the most part I would categorize my work life as OK. I don't hate it, but I don't love it.
And that is why I am thinking about getting out.
This year, for the first time in my life, I was not energized by the first day of school. I was not looking forward to school starting. The kids have not changed drastically, but I don't enjoy being with them as much anymore. Colleagues that I normally enjoy socializing with have recently begun to get on my nerves. I feel that I have become less of a teacher and more of a facilitator...or some other word that really is not that cool. It's all about the test scores, or getting off THE LIST, or another initiative designed to help kids, but is actually too complicated and cumbersome to really implement.
There are a lot of other things coming into play here, but my dissatisfaction with my job is top of the list. And I don't see it changing soon. I feel like in someways I'm seeing the writing on the wall and getting out before it's too late and I become bitter.
However, not being a fancy-free twenty-something anymore, there has to be a plan. Brent says there was to be a plan. I can't just quit, and wander aimlessly in the wilderness. There are bills to be paid and kids to be provided for.
So - the question is now: What do I want to do for a living that will allow me to be a good mom and wife, and yet will contribute to the GNP in some way?
Well, I know what I'd like to do for a living. This. Write. Obviously, I probably wouldn't get paid for blogging, but freelance writing might take care of some of the bills, yes? I love to write, and I even fancy that I'm moderately good at it. But could I do it professionally? There's the deep jump into the unknown.
I don't have all the answers yet. But times, they are a-changing.
31 August 2008
Here's A Depressing, Disrespectful Post For You
OK, I'm sure it isn't, but I know I'll sure feel bad after I write this. Like I'm not capable of keeping my big, fat mouth shut and remember that "there are things you say, and there are things you think...and a smart person knows the difference." Brarrrrr! We got home about a half-hour ago from visiting my husband's grandma in a Care Center. She's been there about three weeks since breaking her ankle...but she's slowly declining anyway with Alzheimer's. She tells us she'd had no visitors today and did not go outside at all, even though we know Brent's parents came and took her to church. It's just sad, you know, because in her mind, everyone has left her and she has no idea where she is...and so I get to wondering: Is there anything good about getting old? Because I sure as hell am at a loss. 1. What happens when you reach that stage when you just can't quite manage living totally on your own? You get put into a Care Center, nursing home, rehabilitation facility, or whatever. The name of the place doesn't matter...because everyone knows what it is and why you're there. 2. Pretty much everyone is living their own lives and don't have much time to come hang out with their relative who sits all day in a nursing home. Hence, the relative gets a.) lonely or b.) bitter. Either way, it sucks. 3. I just cannot stand to think of the day when my faculties (mental and physical) start to go. When I am able to do nothing but sit in front of the TV all day long, I hope someone will have the decency to shoot me. 4. I know, as a pagan, one of the key tenets my faith is the idea of the Triple Goddess. The maiden, mother, crone. That this is all part of the circle of life and that life is cyclical. I KNOW! But I'm having a hard time figuring out, exactly, what I will have to offer this world when I am a crone besides a nasty stereotype. Yeah, so that's it. | |
21 July 2008
The Monster I've Created
Hmmmm....parenting dilemma #125: Equal treatment of all children.
This morning, Brent took Spencer and Kirby to the Y for basketball camp. This was from 8:30-Noon. That left Elliot and I to run errands.
Now...we've been trying to potty-train Elliot. So, everytime he uses the toilet by himself, he gets a sticker on his chart. When the chart is full, he gets a treat. The chart has about twenty spots on it, and if he pees in his underwear, I cross out a sticker and he needs to make up for it. Anyway, it's been a big deal, and he's had his eye on a Go, Diego, Go backpack at Walmart.
Which we finally got to get for him today! Yay Elliot! Potty Prince!
Back to the story. When I picked the kids up, Spencer told me how he had trouble keeping his shoes on during play. They're the zip-up kind, and they actually functioned as his gym shoes during the last year. Needless to say, between gym class and regular wear this summer, they're pretty shot. So, we went to the shoe store to buy new shoes for him.
Guess who's upset because she gets nothing special??? Kirby. Elliot got the backpack and Spencer gets new shoes. She didn't talk to me all through lunch and had tears in her eyes whenever she'd look at me.
My first reaction was to tell her: Look, sometimes you get things and the boys don't. That's how it goes sometimes. What I snippily wanted to add, but didn't was: Sometimes you're more special on some days than others. Get over it. But then, I started to feel bad for her - WTF??
After I said my above piece, I went ahead and ignored the silent tantrum, and eventually she did get over it, but it got me thinking. Have I been so worried about making sure my kids all get the same stuff, that now they expect things when they don't need or deserve it? Christmas is a good example. In the past, we've always tried to spend the same amount of $$$ on the kids. Well, the older they've gotten, the trickier that's become. But, they're still young enough to raise a fuss when one child has more presents than the other...so we buy a couple of "filler" presents for the child who's got the least to alleviate the problem. Soon, the belief prevailed that if "she got something at Walmart, I should get something too." Yuck. I'm raising greedy little yard gnomes!
This morning, Brent took Spencer and Kirby to the Y for basketball camp. This was from 8:30-Noon. That left Elliot and I to run errands.
Now...we've been trying to potty-train Elliot. So, everytime he uses the toilet by himself, he gets a sticker on his chart. When the chart is full, he gets a treat. The chart has about twenty spots on it, and if he pees in his underwear, I cross out a sticker and he needs to make up for it. Anyway, it's been a big deal, and he's had his eye on a Go, Diego, Go backpack at Walmart.
Which we finally got to get for him today! Yay Elliot! Potty Prince!
Back to the story. When I picked the kids up, Spencer told me how he had trouble keeping his shoes on during play. They're the zip-up kind, and they actually functioned as his gym shoes during the last year. Needless to say, between gym class and regular wear this summer, they're pretty shot. So, we went to the shoe store to buy new shoes for him.
Guess who's upset because she gets nothing special??? Kirby. Elliot got the backpack and Spencer gets new shoes. She didn't talk to me all through lunch and had tears in her eyes whenever she'd look at me.
My first reaction was to tell her: Look, sometimes you get things and the boys don't. That's how it goes sometimes. What I snippily wanted to add, but didn't was: Sometimes you're more special on some days than others. Get over it. But then, I started to feel bad for her - WTF??
After I said my above piece, I went ahead and ignored the silent tantrum, and eventually she did get over it, but it got me thinking. Have I been so worried about making sure my kids all get the same stuff, that now they expect things when they don't need or deserve it? Christmas is a good example. In the past, we've always tried to spend the same amount of $$$ on the kids. Well, the older they've gotten, the trickier that's become. But, they're still young enough to raise a fuss when one child has more presents than the other...so we buy a couple of "filler" presents for the child who's got the least to alleviate the problem. Soon, the belief prevailed that if "she got something at Walmart, I should get something too." Yuck. I'm raising greedy little yard gnomes!
21 June 2008
The Call Of The Sea
Well, now I feel a bit like the Elves in the Lord of the Rings books, who, once they perceive the Sea, are forever filled with the desire to be near it and even sail over it.
Anyway, yeah, I had one of these sublime moments today when I felt the definite pull of a force other than my own heart.
We reached Myrtle Beach around 2:30 today and made plans to take the kids to the ocean. However, there was a heinous storm cloud moving in, complete with thunder and lightning. So, we settled for hustling the children to the beachfront, if only for a quick toe dip. Hahaha - right. Naturally, they wanted to frolic and cavort. Naturally, they got just about soaked and sandlogged from head to foot. Oh well. We carted them off the Captain Bennett's Seafood Buffet anyway...as is.
After dinner, we dropped off my extremely crabby father and took the kids to "Hawaiian Rumble" - a miniature golf course. It was a lot of fun, actually, and Elliot (the 3.5 year old) even got two holes-in-one! I'd better Tigerize him and get him on the PGA. It was after all this, about 7:30, that we decide to go back to the beach. The clouds had cleared off by then and it was nice, so why not? When in South Carolina, do as the South Carolinians do. Go to the beach!
The kids, of course, loved having full rein on the sand. They could run and kick and shriek to their hearts' content. All we had to do was shout at them a few times to "not go so far out" and keep little Elliot from being knocked over too many times and drinking too much salt water.
But, there I am, contentedly standing on the shore, letting the gentle tide wash over my feet. And, weirdly, I can actually feel the sand underneath my feet being washed away. The ground I'm on is rapidly eroding, leaving me a bit unable to stand properly. It was the oddest feeling...like I was drunk, but I hadn't been drinking anything at all. No matter what personal issues I have, the world keeps on turning and doing what it does best.
So, after several minutes, we begin to round up the troops. I am walking in a diagonal fashion, in a beeline for our towels, and with the way I was walking and the pull of the tides, I experienced the oddest sensation. I was actually being pulled out to the ocean with the ebbing tide. Like the ocean did not want me to leave. It made my heart feel tied up a little, I tell you.
I tell you what, though, get me a comfy chair (i.e. Adirondack) and plop me out on that beach, with that soft white sand, and I would be set for life. There's something about that huge expanse of water that reminds of how I am but a small bit of this universe. I am in it.
Anyway, yeah, I had one of these sublime moments today when I felt the definite pull of a force other than my own heart.
We reached Myrtle Beach around 2:30 today and made plans to take the kids to the ocean. However, there was a heinous storm cloud moving in, complete with thunder and lightning. So, we settled for hustling the children to the beachfront, if only for a quick toe dip. Hahaha - right. Naturally, they wanted to frolic and cavort. Naturally, they got just about soaked and sandlogged from head to foot. Oh well. We carted them off the Captain Bennett's Seafood Buffet anyway...as is.
After dinner, we dropped off my extremely crabby father and took the kids to "Hawaiian Rumble" - a miniature golf course. It was a lot of fun, actually, and Elliot (the 3.5 year old) even got two holes-in-one! I'd better Tigerize him and get him on the PGA. It was after all this, about 7:30, that we decide to go back to the beach. The clouds had cleared off by then and it was nice, so why not? When in South Carolina, do as the South Carolinians do. Go to the beach!
The kids, of course, loved having full rein on the sand. They could run and kick and shriek to their hearts' content. All we had to do was shout at them a few times to "not go so far out" and keep little Elliot from being knocked over too many times and drinking too much salt water.
But, there I am, contentedly standing on the shore, letting the gentle tide wash over my feet. And, weirdly, I can actually feel the sand underneath my feet being washed away. The ground I'm on is rapidly eroding, leaving me a bit unable to stand properly. It was the oddest feeling...like I was drunk, but I hadn't been drinking anything at all. No matter what personal issues I have, the world keeps on turning and doing what it does best.
So, after several minutes, we begin to round up the troops. I am walking in a diagonal fashion, in a beeline for our towels, and with the way I was walking and the pull of the tides, I experienced the oddest sensation. I was actually being pulled out to the ocean with the ebbing tide. Like the ocean did not want me to leave. It made my heart feel tied up a little, I tell you.
I tell you what, though, get me a comfy chair (i.e. Adirondack) and plop me out on that beach, with that soft white sand, and I would be set for life. There's something about that huge expanse of water that reminds of how I am but a small bit of this universe. I am in it.
08 May 2008
Book Club: Universal Khaki
A recent little development in my life is the formation of and my participation in a book club.
I know you all will find it hard to believe that I teach English and yet my reading for fun is so dismal. However, I usually get caught up in living, eating, parenting, working, and all that other jazz before I'm able to sit and read a good book. I do sneak them in occasionally, though.
Anyway, two theater friends and I decided during play practice about a month ago to form a book club. Because: we like to read and we like to talk about what we read and we like to socialize while we talk about what we read.
We decided on an interesting format. We meet in two weeks' time to discuss the book, but the catch was, we were only to read HALF of the book. Then we could discuss theories and ideas up to that point. In another two weeks, we would meet again to discuss the rest of the book. It's clever, actually, reading half the book, talking about it, then reading the rest.
Our first choice was "Eragon." Not one of the three of us had read it, we'd all seen the movie, and it seemed a good place to start. So off we went (the book is BLAH, lots of flaws, but that's neither here nor there). We had our second meeting last night...so the book is done.
And it was so much fun! We had excellent book conversation, and great other-topic conversation otherwise. I feel like for the first time since we moved here that I've found girlfriends I have lots in common with and enjoying being with.
So...the next book "Stardust" by Neil Gaiman.
I know you all will find it hard to believe that I teach English and yet my reading for fun is so dismal. However, I usually get caught up in living, eating, parenting, working, and all that other jazz before I'm able to sit and read a good book. I do sneak them in occasionally, though.
Anyway, two theater friends and I decided during play practice about a month ago to form a book club. Because: we like to read and we like to talk about what we read and we like to socialize while we talk about what we read.
We decided on an interesting format. We meet in two weeks' time to discuss the book, but the catch was, we were only to read HALF of the book. Then we could discuss theories and ideas up to that point. In another two weeks, we would meet again to discuss the rest of the book. It's clever, actually, reading half the book, talking about it, then reading the rest.
Our first choice was "Eragon." Not one of the three of us had read it, we'd all seen the movie, and it seemed a good place to start. So off we went (the book is BLAH, lots of flaws, but that's neither here nor there). We had our second meeting last night...so the book is done.
And it was so much fun! We had excellent book conversation, and great other-topic conversation otherwise. I feel like for the first time since we moved here that I've found girlfriends I have lots in common with and enjoying being with.
So...the next book "Stardust" by Neil Gaiman.
21 April 2008
If Every Sunday Could Be Like Yesterday
Yesterday was one of those days that no matter what else went on in the world - things were right and happy in my corner of the universe.
We started off the day at church, which, by itself, is not so monumental (in fact, that's something I need to post about). But then, after church, the kids went to Sunday school, and Brent and I snuck off to the local coffeehouse to have a soda and some conversation...instead of going to the adult Sunday school. Sacreligious, I know.
Then, we stopped at Subway and picked up some subs for lunch, picked up the kids, and then went home. There, we saddled up everyone for a 15-minute bike ride to the elementary school playground. We would eat our subs there and play awhile. A very nice ride - Spencer rode by himself, Kirby rode tandem with me, and Brent pulled Elliot in the trailer. We were quite the convoy. Anyway, the weather was nice, clouds were clearing out and temps were reaching into high 60s.
After about an hour, we ride back home. Because of the nice weather, and the absolute need, I spend about an hour power-washing our screened-in deck, followed by another half-hour of deck washing, followed by another hour of power-rinsing. I also hosed off the deck furniture and part of the house. Brent did some other outside stuff.
I come back inside, and take a break by grading a little bit of homework. Within the hour, though, it's time to start supper. Kirby and I had decided earlier this weekend to have banana pancakes, sausage, and hash browns. Now I enjoy cooking, so I liked the three-ring-circus-challenge of doing this meal...between the flipping and pouring of pancakes, stirring of hash browns, and microwaving of sausage, I was having a ball. Not to mention watching the clock, because timing is everything!
After that, I took some provisions over to my school for this coming week, and we went out for ice cream.
So it was a productive and fun weekend...but most of all, I felt like part of a family. With all this play stuff the last six weeks, I've felt a bit alienated from them. However, one more week to go and I'm done with community theater.
We started off the day at church, which, by itself, is not so monumental (in fact, that's something I need to post about). But then, after church, the kids went to Sunday school, and Brent and I snuck off to the local coffeehouse to have a soda and some conversation...instead of going to the adult Sunday school. Sacreligious, I know.
Then, we stopped at Subway and picked up some subs for lunch, picked up the kids, and then went home. There, we saddled up everyone for a 15-minute bike ride to the elementary school playground. We would eat our subs there and play awhile. A very nice ride - Spencer rode by himself, Kirby rode tandem with me, and Brent pulled Elliot in the trailer. We were quite the convoy. Anyway, the weather was nice, clouds were clearing out and temps were reaching into high 60s.
After about an hour, we ride back home. Because of the nice weather, and the absolute need, I spend about an hour power-washing our screened-in deck, followed by another half-hour of deck washing, followed by another hour of power-rinsing. I also hosed off the deck furniture and part of the house. Brent did some other outside stuff.
I come back inside, and take a break by grading a little bit of homework. Within the hour, though, it's time to start supper. Kirby and I had decided earlier this weekend to have banana pancakes, sausage, and hash browns. Now I enjoy cooking, so I liked the three-ring-circus-challenge of doing this meal...between the flipping and pouring of pancakes, stirring of hash browns, and microwaving of sausage, I was having a ball. Not to mention watching the clock, because timing is everything!
After that, I took some provisions over to my school for this coming week, and we went out for ice cream.
So it was a productive and fun weekend...but most of all, I felt like part of a family. With all this play stuff the last six weeks, I've felt a bit alienated from them. However, one more week to go and I'm done with community theater.
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