Shower
There are certain things that I have never noticed about my showering routine that became all too obvious today.
1. I never close the bathroom door because it gets too steamy and fogs up my mirror which I find quite irritating. However, for no real reason, I have had this creepy sensation of being watched all day so I closed the bathroom door today(this somehow was supposed to make me feel safer or something). And thus began the unravelling of a routine that I have never noticed.
2. I walk in and out of the bathroom a lot before actually getting into a shower (which might further explain why I feel the need to leave the door open). The situation was further complicated as I have just moved back to my apatrment.
3. I had to go find towels. Open the door. Look around. Chastize myself for being so silly. Locate the towels (easier said than done). Return to bathroom. Debate about closing the door. Close the door.
4. Turn on the shower. In my apartment, we don't pay the water bill, its included in the rent, this has made me very lazy. I just let the water run and run, and I watch it because it so often looks kind of rusty and I am not about to take a shower in rusty water. This is America for crying out loud, it I want to bathe in rusty water I will join the peace corps. So I just am letting water run down the drain while I seek out my shampoo and conditioner. Open the door. Find all remaining bathroom necessities in a laundry basket in my kitchen. Drag the entire basket into the bathroom. Again debate about closing the door. Close the door.
5. Now I tentatively stick my wrist into the shower. Prior to this experience I have never noticed how picky I can be about water temperature. The shower water is
freezing! I am confused...hadn't I turned the shower on more than a minute ago? How can it still be cold? I know right where to turn it too for the right temperature, and I had but this is
cold water. I turn the handle a bit warmer, and while I am waiting for the water to adjust I unbraid my hair. I thrust my wrist back into the water and am stunned to find it still cold. I turn the hadle to the extreme left side, all the way to the H. "that will take care of that." Again I place my wrist under the steady stream (if not a bit unwillingly at this point). Nope. Dread overwhelmes me, I don't feel like climbing into a freezing shower, its too early, and something must be broken about our hot water heater. However, I had not yet removed my wrist from the water and it started to sting, from the cold, that's when I thought, "Hmmm. I wouldn't have thought it possible but it feels like that freezing water just got colder." And then I remembered.
The maintenence men had been there earlier to fix my drippy faucet. And being the spazes that they are I realize that they made a mistake. I turn the handle over to the extreme right, Clearly marked with a "C" and that is where I found the hot water. So I luagh at their mistake and my dread of cold showers, adjust the temperature and jump in. All's well, right? Wrong.
6. This is where I learn that I change the temperature of my shower
constantly! And I just couldn't get it through my head about turning the handle the opposite direction, it was bad. But funny. And I got shampoo in my eyes because I had to keep opening them to think "now which way am I supposed to turn this stupid thing...?"
The moral of this story is that I should not be so complicated...but it was funny. And who would have ever thought that a shower would be worth blogging about?
I am just experimenting with Hello from picasa
Neruda
Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.
Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche esta estrellada,y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos."
El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.
Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.Yo la quise, y a veces ella tambien me quiso.
~Pablo Neruda
This guy is amazing! Well worth the time it takes me to find translations! I don't have the words... he won the
Noble Prize for Literature in '71. Check out his
Nobel Lecture, wow! He had such an abundance of hope. Anyhow, I am momentarity fascinated. Untill further notice.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance."
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
~Pablo Neruda translated byW.S. Merwin
Poetry
Poetry: I have missed, oh, so much...which is funny because I know so many poets.
Seems that we have all been a bit uninspired as of late.
It is good for your soul.
Going Home
I am pleased to announce that I am going home, o, so shortly. I will be going back on Friday. I went shopping in DeKalb last weekend and it just reminded me or how anxious I am to get back.
However, there are always drawbacks. All day I was really worried that I was going to run into Javier. It was craziness. I was literally making myself nauseous. And I kept thinking, "why in the world do I feel so stressed about this?" I gave it some thought and this is what I came up with.
I treated Javier terribly when I ended things with him. Granted I still think that I made the right decision, however, I went about it entirely wrong, and now I feel extremely guilty. I don't want to see him because I should have never been so excessively rude. I said that I was going to talk to him after I read his letter and I never did. He heard me out and I did not offer him the same courtesy. Rude. I am very rude. All guys should take mental note for their own preservation: Avoid trisha like the plague. I advise against getting too close.
Sing a long
I have had this song stuck in my head since I drove the boys up to camp...I love it. I want it.
Click here to listen.
What I really mean
Several times yesterday while shopping with my very dear friend Kate I made the comment, "and that is why I won't be
having children." I realized on the drive home that that statement is no where near the actual truth of what it was that I was trying to say. But don't worry, I am sure that Kate already understands this about me. She has a way about her.
What I really mean when I say things like that is that I cannot imagine adding to my life at this pint because I am so very content where I am. I love this stage of my life! Thank the Lord because I was really starting to worry that I wouldn't like being anything but a student. As it turns out teaching is, as I had hoped, much more about learning that teaching. Anyway, the point is that I love my life. The right now. And right now, I wouldn't want to change a thing. Not by adding a boy. Or kids. Or the "perfect" job. Nope. Nada. I like things just the way that they are.
And I dream about the future. I know that change will come. And I look forward to that, but not right now, now I am happy to be here. I want to fully take in this stage of my life before I move on to the next scene. Get it?
I miss...a lot
I miss DeKalb, namely my apartment, a place to call my own, to spread out and to just be my oxymoronical hardworking/lazy, scatterbrained/organized, calm/crazy, sweet/nasty self.
I miss peace and quiet. Where did they go? I haven't been with them in so long.
I miss friends. I know where they are but it is not any easier to get ahold of them or to stay in touch. Summer always has a way of pulling people out of my life.
I miss school. I know that I am crazy, but I love school and I cannot wait to get started. however I am feeling way overwhelmed at the idea of teaching but it is a good kind of overwhelmed...you know, the kind that keeps you working hard, planning much, and very humble.
I miss being in charge of my own life. I hate being bossed around. End of story.
I miss Wellspring. I miss Borders. I miss caribou. I miss Panera. Heck, I miss carbs in general. My mom has all of us on a carb free/sugar free/flour free diet. I am so ready to be done with it. I miss bread.
I miss shopping. I have no money. I probably should have remained humble and worked at Taco Bell for a few weeks longer than I did. Nah! It was a good decision to leave. I don't miss money
that much!
I miss talking to certain individuals who shall remain nameless *cou-Jordan-gh* who refuse to actually talk to me anymore and will only leave me messages on my voice mail and who will promise to e-mail me but never do.
I miss creating inside jokes. I miss laughing at them.
I miss a good night's sleep. I have been dreaming about someone I miss. It has been hard.
I miss my grandpa. He died the summer of 99 and I still miss him. I rode my bike past his house and started to cry, remembering the days I saw dolphins when he was in critical condition in a FL hospital, remembering the day he put on rollerskates to teach me how, remembering the camping trips, the stories of Blackhawk, and the story that he too was born in a manger.
I miss internet access on a regular basis.
I miss a lot.
Far Scarier Than "Secret Window"
I watched the movie "Secret Window" with my family this evening. It is what I would typically label as a "scary" movie. I don't like to watch scary movies. I was drug to see this one by a very persuasive friend who assured me that it was not "that scary." So when my dad rented it and put it in I was not troubled...I had already seen it and deemed it not "that scary." But here is where the story twists and gets far scarier that the "Secret Window."
My mom sat next to me and I would warn her when to not look and then tell her what she was missing without the gross details. This method worked out really well for both of us until the end. (WARNING: if you have not seen this movie and are planning on watching it, read no further because I am about to ruin the ending for you!) When the poor wife is stabbed with the screwdriver and drug outside but the psycho Rainey I said, "Don't worry, he doesn't kill her. She will be ok. Remember her boyfriend? He couldn't wait at home like she told him to so he comes and saves her and Rainey dies accidentally." So mom uncovers her face just as the previously mentioned boyfriend enters the scene. Great. All's well that ends well. Except that then we (my mom and I) both watched in horror as the boyfriend is beheaded with the shovel. AAHHHHHHH! Mom is screaming at me, "I thought you said he saved her!" and I am screaming, "I thought he did! I remember it that way!" Then we both hid and screamed as the poor wife was killed. How terrifying! But the really scary thing is that I had created an alternative ending that I truly believed to be true. I did not remember the real ending of the movie at all! I was totally surprised. How scary is that.
I told you that I shouldn't watch scary movies. *shudder*
Teacher's Inservice
Today was my first teaching inservice day. It was everything and nothing that I expected. It was informative, overwhelming, and vague. But everyone seems so supportive and welcoming. I am never going to be able to remember all of those names. There is truly something wrong with me in that regard.
As I was signing up on the "events schedule" (which, by the way, I still have no idea what that thing is) the sixth grade teacher, Patty, sitting next to me said "good choice" as I wrote my name under the speech meet, I was like, "yeah, well, I have no idea what I am getting myself into here," she laughed and said, "no one ever does when it comes to this stuff, sign up for the geography bee and we can work together on that one." So I did. I guess that means that I should probably brush up on my geography skills. But it is nice to feel so welcomed.
The typical announcements were preceded with a great devotion. I am really going to enjoy this private school bit I think. It is good to be reminded of who I am and who God is on a regular basis.
And while it is well known that all teachers will congregate around food to socialize endlessly, I have never met a group that was so interested in including someone new. I felt positively radiant, special, and important. (When does that happen?) So I guess that God knew just what he was doing when he put me here. Like I have said before, I think he was just trying to make the choice very obvious to me by giving me only one option! :-)
My one concern is that people keep making comments about my future students. And while I value their opinions and knowledge, I want to be the one to make the decisions as to how I view my kids. I don't want other people's input to influence me before I even meet them. But I don't know how to convey that with respect to the other teachers.
Hmm. Something to ponder on the bike path.
Collecting Tennis Balls
I am currently collecting tennis balls for my classroom. I need a little over 150. I think. Anyhow, I have been pricing tennis balls and it seems that they tend to run anywhere between 25-50 cents per ball. So I have begun to wander around the local courts hoping to find random balls abandoned by their previous owners. This is harder than it may sound. I have hand to climb under bushes, tramp through drainage ditches, scale cliffs, and search through dense foliage and I have only found about 12 balls. So, while I was on the bike path the other day I got to thinking...What if I were to just take a huge bag and run around the courts when they were having a class (the courts are literally strewn with hundreds of balls at this time) throw as many as I can into the bag until someone starts to yell and then just run from the court cackling an evil cackle and see what becomes of me. I really don't think that anyone would press charges or anything. I mean, my goodness, they are only tennis balls...And clearly I am deranged!
This made me laugh. So I keep thinking about it. And then I laugh some more. :-)
Dixon aka Hicksville
I walk around barefoot a lot around here. So often in fact that I have begun to go places and forgotten my shoes. The truly humorous factoid however is that this is rarely a problem. The whole "no shirt, no shoes, no service" thing really doesn't apply to us. Who knew.
skrowerif
My brother recorded the fireworks on his camcorders. And today he played the video loop backwards so that we watched the explosions in reverse. It was wildly entertaining and very funny. I guess that explains a lot about Dixon to you, huh?
Afraid of Colors
I have seen so many people recently who seem to be afraid of color. Have you seen them? Their wardrobes are entirely composed of muted shades and hues of neutrals which they have creatively called, khaki or hunter or beige or tan, eggshell, pumice, moss, earth. People of the world: there are colors out there. Colors that may not camouflaged you into the forest or desert. Colors that are bright and vibrant and alive. Have you seen them? They are beautiful. We don't live in a black and white world with smudges of grey, and blushes of tan. We live in a world of colors. Wear them! You will be happier if you don't fear the color of the world.
Still Afraid
I went for a bike ride today and discovered that I am still afraid to ride my bike over bridges...I feel unstable. I didn't realize until I was nearly across the river that I had been holding my breath for the entire duration of the crossing. And there was such a natural sigh of relief upon reaching that opposite shore. It is something about being up high, looking over your handlebars and seeing water 20 feet below you instead of sidewalk, and then feeling dizzy, feeling motion sick, feeling the bridge rumble with each passing car. It is just not a safe feeling. But bridges must be crossed. Weather you fear them or not. It was odd to stumble onto this fear. I had forgotten. But there it is, as real as ever. But I still love to ride my bike. And I love going to the bike path just to spite the bridge. It wakes me up, it makes me feel strong by shaking me up.
Crazy but true.
Thanks
Jordan just pointed out this great website to me, we had a good time discussiong the June 30th edition of the
MBN comentaries, and now that I am at the library I am going to see if I can find a copy of Brave New World because I don't think I have ever read it in its entirety.
