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a brush with the crew

Last night, Mike and I were ordering sandwiches at Potbelly's and couldn't help but notice the guy in front of us looked familiar. Really familiar. I was entertaining ideas, but didn't want to say anything until Mike asked me if I recognized him. I said, "Not unless he's on the Crew." Well, of course, Mike was thinking the same thing. We left him alone as he ordered and left, and of course as soon as we got home we jumped on the internet and searched the team roster. Lo and behold, it turns out we were standing in line next to Duncan Oughton (Duncan's Crew profile), one of the midfielders for the Crew. Being the soccer obsessed lunatics we are, we tried not to get overly excited, but I have to admit it was really a great way to end a day. I'm now working on memorizing the entire roster in anticipation of future encounters, as it's surprisingly difficult to recognize some of these guys without their yellow jerseys on. I think perhaps it's about time I joined one of the three official fan clubs: the Hudson Street Hooligans, the Crew Union, or La Turbina de las Amarillas.... (photo from goal.com, specifically http://www.goal.com/hk/people/new-zealand/6650/duncan-oughton)

teaching

I am really excited to start teaching again this fall. At Esparto High School, I had something really special. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision in leaving that place, but it wasn't the students that finally led me to my decision. It was the administration, as well as my own desire to pursue a PhD and eventually get into teaching at the college level. There are days when I find myself thinking of my students, most especially the Class of 2008 who I was lucky enough to spend three years with; and I realize that the circumstances of that experience are non-replicable. Where else would I be able to make up 50% of the English department, and therefore teach 50% of the students in the entire high school? And even if I did find a place where that could happen, how would I ever swing it so that I taught 10th and 11th grade for two years, only to switch to 10th and 12th the third (therefore allowing me to stay with the same class for a third year in a row)? When I think about it honestly, I realize it would be nearly impossible to make all of those things happen, and that even if I could, who's to say the class would have the same kind of chemistry and pizzazz that that one did? So I console myself by seeing just how lucky I was to have that experience in the first place, and by allowing myself to reminisce about the students and their very special and unique selves. I also let myself wonder where they all are right now, a little over a year since I've seen any of them -- and I dream of all the incredible turns their lives are hopefully taking as they start to make a place and a name for themselves in this world of ours.

So with those thoughts on my mind, I am beginning to look forward to the teaching I get to do this fall. I'll be teaching my first class of college students, in the form of an English 110 course (freshman composition). It may not sound like the most exciting curriculum out there, but it sure does sound good to get back into the classroom. Thinking about it makes me more certain of my decision to work toward my PhD. The fact that I am this excited (so excited!) to get back into the classroom makes me feel confident that I'm heading in the right direction, and the fact that I miss the students from EHS makes me realize that it was the people (rather than the circumstances) that I miss the most. Somehow, that makes me feel really good.

I suppose it's last night's thunderstorm coupled with today's cloudy and windy weather that are bringing out the introspective side of me, but I also think it's the season. Back to school season: lined paper and Trapper Keepers on display everywhere you go, backpacks flying off the shelves and students of all sizes picking out the gear that will see them through this next school year. I wonder if these things will always turn my mind toward my students -- if they will always bring back memories of Senior Dinner and Rascal Flatts, Spart-a-rama, a particular shade of purple, and some familiar faces and personalities that have left their mark on me. Will I always find myself getting out a particular towel riddled with signatures, looking at the shapes of the letters and remembering the people who put them there? Will I always get out a simple three-ring binder filled with photographs and signatures, messages written in my own personal teacher's yearbook? Will I continue to sift through memories and find myself smiling at times past? Probably. And I can't say I'm all that broken up about it. I had some really good times at EHS, and some amazing people touched my life in ways that will always be with me. Perhaps that is my sign that I am where I should be -- that I can look back over where I've been and feel happy about it.

lazy, good-for-nothing, punkass little freeloaders

Two nights ago, someone got into Mike's truck and ransacked the entire thing, stealing an older iPod (plus iPod car gadgets) and our GPS (alas, poor Lizzie, nevermore to give us directions as we wander through this foreign land). Happily, there was no damage to the truck. Unhappily, it was parked right outside of our apartment, which is apparently not safe. Oh yeah, and things were stolen!! What is wrong with people, that they feel the need to break into people's cars and take things?

I'm reminded of a scene from Gone in 60 Seconds (yup, I'm referencing it) where one of the characters has just worked "hard" to steal a car, only to pull out of the garage and have another car thief attempt to carjack him. He punches the carjacker in the face, gets out of the car, and kicks him -- all the while complaining about the way kids these days don't want to work for anything, and just want to freeload off of other people's hard work. Of course, I'm not condoning car theft, but I like his message: nobody wants to work for anything anymore. It seems like everywhere you turn, there are more people looking for handouts.

Just the other day, Mike opened the door to a couple of kids who were (of course) selling something: magazines. Working to earn their "points" so they could go to Cancun or something. How exactly is it considered "working" to knock on people's doors and ask for money?

I don't know, maybe I'm just turning into one of those preachy old farts who spouts off about "kids these days" and their bad habits, and how much better it was in the old days when I was a kid. I mean, none of my friends want to work either, but they're out there holding jobs and doing it anyway so they can earn their keep. Nobody would choose to work if they could just have the money for free, but that just doesn't happen anymore. The moral of the story: if you want something, DON'T F***ING STEAL IT FROM ME!!

a little summer sadness

ODD. To feel sad in the summertime, that is. I don't really know why I feel so melancholy lately -- and so often, too. Sometimes I start thinking of the explanation they would have given in Shakespeare's day, something about the four humours, and what happens when a person has too much of one. I think it was black bile that made for a melancholy disposition. But of course, that's just a silly and outdated way of thinking, right? Sure. So what's my excuse? I guess summertime used to mean something else. It used to mean spending time with good friends, and catching up with friends you hadn't seen in a while -- having lots of time to do with as you please. But what happens when so few of your friends are even in the same time zone as you are? And when your new friends are busy with their own lives? And when (not that I'm complaining about this) your husband has a job, and it's just you and the cat in the apartment all day. With your books. All those books, but nobody to talk to. Nobody real to have a conversation with. Everybody living their lives three hours behind you, or in another part of the world. It's strange how technology brings people together in so many ways (communication is faster, sites like facebook make social networking easier, even shopping is altered) but keeps them apart in so many others. Sure, all my friends are saying things on facebook, and I can see what's going on in their lives and what they've written on my wall. It's just not the same as grabbing a bite to eat at our favorite deli, or sipping hot chocolate in the local coffee shop, or hanging up the phone knowing that in fifteen minutes one of us will be sitting in the other's living room. I mean, I have friends -- CLOSE friends -- who bought a house recently and I can't afford to get out to San Francisco to see them (and their amazing new home). I haven't seen my sister and my brother-in-law since New Year's day, and I don't forsee being able to get back home until the end of this year. Luckily, my parents are coming out in a few weeks, so it won't be an entire year since I've seen them. And thankfully, I was able to see my best friend at the end of April when we met up in DC (thanks to her parents' kindness and generosity). But as my friends continue to live their lives and keep me posted on all of the things we used to do together, some of which I haven't been able to do for years (like winter Tahoe trips and end-of-summer Don Pedro trips) I just keep brushing it off like it doesn't make me sad to watch another year go by without being able to do those things. Of course, it's the more everyday things that I miss most. Driving out to SF to visit for the weekend. Having a regular enough schedule to make regular phone calls a possibility. Hell, lately I haven't even been able to check my email on a regular basis. It's silly to complain about this stuff, really, because I know I have a lot of things going on that I can be thankful for. But it doesn't help me feel any less isolated. Sometimes I'm just lonely.

Futbol, Fireworks, and Fireflies

AHH, THE 4TH OF JULY. Yup, Mike and I spent the evening watching the Columbus Crew take on DC United. It wasn't their best game, but in the end they tied (1-1) and considering the bad refs and the oddly unenthusiastic crowd (at least, until the Crew scored their goal), I guess that's good enough for me. After the game, they had a nice little fireworks show in the light rain, and then Mike and I headed home. Of course, the drive wasn't entirely uneventful either (we had to phone in a drunk driver who was alternating between driving into oncoming traffic and going up onto the curb -- at one point, narrowly missing a telephone pole). When we got home, we walked into the courtyard in our apartment complex and saw some fireflies drifting lazily in the dark. It's the first time I've seen them since I was on vacation with my family in Washington, DC, over twenty years ago. It was a lovely way to come home, especially after the semi-disappointing game and the tense ride back. Now, back in our nice quiet apartment, the booming of not-so-distant fireworks fills the air like quiet thunder, and flashes of colored night air play above the treetops. We're not close enough that we can see the actual fireworks, but the glowing pulses of light are a nice pseudo-Northern Lights (this coming from a person who has yet to see the Northern Lights, of course, because I'm sure that when I do I will regret making such an undoubtedly silly statement). With the sounds of celebration pounding outside our windows, I can say that this has been a lovely way to spend Independence Day. :)

Hiking in Ohio

A SEMI-BITTER RANT. Yesterday, Mike and I went to the Hocking Hills to do some hiking near Old Man's Cave. There were some beautiful spots, but there were also some "interesting" people there. Well, some were great -- we ran into one of my classmates while we were there, and that was nice. Ohio is often so much smaller than I think it is (as is our world, sometimes). But there were also other people who were a lot less pleasant. As we walked through what should have been the peaceful, quiet woods, shouts echoed all around us. These were not panicked shouts, or joyous shouts of children happily discovering nature. Nope. Not a chance. These were shouts of obnoxious people who apparently don't enjoy (or maybe are afraid of) the silence of nature. Rather than listen to the quiet splash of the slowly moving stream, or the trill of tropical-sounding birds in the trees around us, some people apparently felt compelled to fill the peaceful silence with the sound of their own voices for no reason other than to prevent the quiet from being, well, enjoyable. Eventually, we outpaced the loud shouters and left them far enough behind that their voices receded into the background. Then, we encountered other people with their own unique habits. Twice, we came across people hiking along in the lovely woods and (wait for it) SMOKING. In a forest. Where there are no trash cans. And the air is (was) fresh. Now, I don't ordinarily mind if people smoke (especially if they are considerate and try to direct their smoke away from me, as some of my friends are wont to do); however, it strikes me as exceedingly odd that someone would venture out into the wilderness with its clean air and natural beauty and then proceed to light up and continue their hike. And one of these people was a girl who I really can't believe was old enough to drive, let alone smoke a cigarette (legally, anyway). Ahh, Ohio. You dazzle me in strange and foreign ways.... There were also like half a million children (and not well-behaved ones, either) swarming all over the landscape. Children with names like Noah and Jonas, children with no regard whatsoever for the peace of other hikers, children who seemed to enjoy nature about as much as most children enjoy getting vaccinations, children who screamed and shouted and polluted the clear air with their piercing voices. But people didn't just bring their kids out in hordes; they also felt the need to bring all their little yappy dogs -- dogs who did NOT enjoy being out of their usual environs, and who voiced their displeasure through angry snarls and growls and shrill barking that rivaled the noise made by the children. Also, on a more humorous note, I must admit that a significant number of people we came across quipped about the possible impending need to be air-lifted to the nearest hospital. Apparently they found the trail a bit more challenging than they had expected, but this recurring joke was unexpected for me. Unusual sense of humor, I suppose.

Nostalgia

I'm feeling really introspective today (a rare, quiet mood for me). I was thinking about the past year and everything that's happened. I can't believe I've been married for a whole year now. :) Crazy. And I still can't believe I'm living in Ohio, and that I'm working toward my PhD. These are not the things I expected from life, but I'm very happy about them. It's funny, all the different paths your life can take and the ways each decision changes the course of those paths. I could have still been working in Moorpark, or still at Esparto. I could still be teaching high school. I could have never gotten my MA and therefore would never have applied for my PhD. I could have taken a class on British Drama rather than DH Lawrence and I would never have had the professor who wrote me a letter of recommendation and suggested I apply to OSU. I could be living in Oregon instead of Ohio right now. I could be living in Woodland and Mike could still be working at Schilling. So many choices. Of course, I could be teaching at SYVUHS like I always used to dream I would, and Mike could still be working for his dad, and we could be living that life. But instead, we're in Ohio, Mike works for National Board, I go to school at OSU, and that's life. Crazy. :)

Summer Vacation?

SO THIS IS SUMMER. I guess I had hoped for something a little more...well, relaxing. But alas, I guess it's going to be school, read, write, sleep, repeat. That's okay though. OSU is still a lot of fun, and now that Mike has a job, it's waaaaay better to be out and about (and interacting with people) than sitting at home in the apartment by myself. :) Now if only it wasn't quite so hot and humid today. It's usually okay -- not so hot that I get overwhelmed by it and can't do much outside. Today's different though. It is just a bit too sweltering for me to go for a jog, so I guess I will stay inside this afternoon and drink lots of water and clean up a bit in preparation for Meg's visit. :) I'm excited to look at places with her. I think I might start scoping out what's out there for Mike and me too, just look around and see if there's a place that would be easier to access on foot/bike, since I am loving living without a car. Really, though, the summer is off to a good (albeit busy) start. Hooray!

AIRPORT. There's something comforting about waiting around in the airport, even though of course I'd rather not be waiting quite so long (my flight is delayed 89 minutes this morning). But still, the college students sleeping in their chairs, the businessmen with their expensive coffees, the parents trying to keep their kids under control, the people at the counter hectically trying to change their flights is just so familiar, so calming. I sit here and read, quietly ignored by the bustle around me, occasionally looking above the pages of my books to watch the lives whirl around me in the terminal. There's something delightful in the way the airport employees go about their daily tasks, the way my minor crisis of a canceled flight is not really that big a deal because it happens all the time and they know how to take care of it (and now I'm on a flight that is scheduled to arrive just 1 minute later than my previously-delayed-but-now-canceled flight was supposed to arrive). Whew, crisis averted! :) Gotta love that airport hustle and bustle.

WOAH. Yeah, my mind is sloooooow today. But that's okay. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and I am being lazy. Really, really lazy. I am happy to be lazy today. I really have nothing to say, but it's been a long time since I updated. Kind of. A couple of weeks, anyway. Well then, hooray for the weekend, and for good books and good company!

BOOKS. I love reading. There are too many reasons to go into right now, but here's the reason I'm talking about something so obvious. I'm reading this book called Riddley Walker right now for a workshop I'll be taking during the spring quarter. It's written in a really strange manner, in the ungrammatical colloquial voice of the narrator, Riddley Walker. I'm also in the middle of Sherman Alexie's novel Flight, narrated by a kid named Zits who's at a crossroads in his life; and I just finished Marjane Satrapi's graphic novel Embroideries. All of these have such strong narrative presence, and it makes me want to do more creative writing. First I have to finish these books, but then...then maybe I'll have the time to write some stories or start another novel (or rewrite the ending of my first / only novel). For now, it's time to peel back that plastic-wrapped library cover and get back into the story....

SPRING BREAK. I love this time of the year! And I'm so glad Ohio is letting me have a little fun. I have now officially gone jogging outside twice, gone for nice long walks in the sunshine twice, and have plans to do more jogging and walking and even some cycling in the near future. I just love being outside. And I'm really excited about next quarter, with the return of literature to my life, although there were some good classes this quarter as well but something about this winter quarter was rough. Perhaps it was the fact that everyone else was miserable, or that the weather was bitter and gray, or that it's hard to come back to Ohio after spending two weeks in California. But now I'm excited about the summer and am ready to start in on the spring. :) So the name of the game is "sushine and bliss" right now. Hooray for Spring Break!

SNOW DAY!! Yesterday, I experienced my first ever snow day. What a wonderful surprise to wake up to find a message in my inbox that told me OSU was closed due to snow and ice. Hooray! So Mike and I wandered around our area. We went across the street to a beautiful old Catholic seminary school and took photos, wandered around the grounds, and generally enjoyed the 12 inches of snow we got. It's beautiful. There's nothing quite like newly-fallen snow. I almost felt bad leaving footprints behind, but it was so much fun that it was worth it.