Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Thunderstorm

Lots of thoughts rattling around right now, but I just feel like writing, so here is the second draft of a piece I started in class today (I love writing with my kids!):

I awoke from a deep sleep, unsure of what time it was or even what day it was. A loud rumble of thunder brought me to my senses. The bedroom shook around me. Picture frames rattled on the walls. I rolled over to the other side of the bed to look at my alarm clock. 3:22 a.m. - just a few more hours until I had to get up and start my day. I should really be asleep. But the storm was drawing me in.

Outside, the rain pelted down on the pavement, the trees, the porch. A bright flash of lighning exploded through the room. I froze, eagerly anticipating the thunder that was to follow. Mere seconds later my excitement was gratifed with thunder so strong I thought it must be on top of me. Sleep; I should be asleep. No way of sleeping now. How could I sleep through something so cool? Briefly I contemplate getting up to watch the storm from my window, but I know from previous attempts that the bedroom window isn' the best for storm watching. Just listening will have to suffice, unless of course the storm gets more intense. I get cozy in bed, as the storm rumbles around me. Closing my eyes, the steady, soothing lull of pouring rain sings me to sleep.


Clearly unfinished. Feedback is appreciated!

Sunday, August 13, 2006

City Girl in a Country World


Friday night I went to the Missouri State Fair and rodeo. Having never been to either of these things before I was unsure what to expect, but I like to think of myself as a "country friendly" person, so I was excited for the adventure, and figured I could hold my own. There was a hat on my head and yeehaw in my heart. The hat did not prepare me for the world I was about to enter; it merely created the appearance that I belonged.

Don't get me wrong, the whole thing was great, just a little....surreal.

We ate turkey legs. HUGE turkey legs. Those turkeys must have been doing some serious squats. I felt like I should have been swinging it about shouting for more meade. My inability to finish the gargantuan turkey leg left me a little disappointed in myself, because it was seriously awesome. If this is a staple of state fairs then I have seriously been missing out.

The newness of the situation increased tenfold when we got to the rodeo. I was handed what appeared to be a program upon entering, and thought, "there's a program for this thing???" I tried to read over the event sheet and figure out what they all were without being too obviously ignorant. Thankfully we weren't sitting by too many people at first, and my friends all knew it was my premier rodeo experience. It was like being in a movie. In fact, for the first couple of events I was reminded of Brokeback Mountain, as it was up to that point my closest experience with a rodeo. The non-movie moment was the beginning, when we were asked to stand and remove our hats...not to sing the national anthem, no no, to pray. At a public event. Over the PA system. This was perhaps more shocking than the whole remainder of the evening. I expected cowboys to get hurt. I expected big horses and bulls. I expected lots and lots of boots and hats.

I did not expect praying.

There were only 2 major "city girl" moments. Granted, there were A LOT of things I was surprised by and didn't know, but only 2 times that it was clear I was not from these parts. The whole concept of being able to rope a moving animal is a little insane to me, and I was completely in awe of those who were responsible for roping the hooves of the calves during the team roping. Seriously, how do you rope the hooves of a moving animal? The smallest part to rope, and it's running - I just can't believe it. I expressed my awe as well as my surprise that one cowboy missed to the friend sitting next to me. The woman in front of me (who, mind you, was wearing a plaid flannel shirt, hat, boots, and buckle that all matched her husband's) turned around and looked at me as if I must be the stupidest person in the world. I'm not sure if she was surprised by my awe, or by my belief that it looked like the cowboy was going to get the calf, but it was clear that she thought I was seriously stupid. It was like suddenly a neon sign glowed over my head saying "not a country girl."

Rodeos have zambonis. That was my other city girl moment. During the barrel racing a tractor came out to rake out the area around the barrels, to which I say, "look, it's a rodeo zamboni!" Matchy woman kept her back turned, and my friend just laughed. Score one for the city girl. I think I need to get dual citizenship - city girl by day, country girl when the hat comes on. The whole thing was too fun not to do again.

Under totally unrelated circumstances, I had another bizarre experience yesterday. Someone I haven't talked to in over 2 years called, completely out of the blue. Her number wasn't even in my phone anymore. What possesses people to do that? Why call someone up after more than 2 years of no communication? The time when we were close friends feels lifetimes away now. We've both started new paths, new lives. I find it hard to believe that memories of a friendship shared so long ago would prompt a phone call now, when those same memories couldn't keep the friendship together when the memories were fresh. Is it cold of me that I feel incapable of understanding her desire to reconnect?

Monday, August 07, 2006

August 6 - Great Eastern Tour Day 21

Miles travelled: 576.9
Milkshakes: 1
Total trip mileage: 2, 556.3

8:47 a.m. - Drag myself out of bed for a quick shower. Breakfast is supposed to be at 9, but it looks like godfather is the only other person up so far.

9:25 a.m. - Scrambled eggs and cheese, marble bagels, canteloupe and apples for breakfast. By far the best morning meal of the trip. Conversation is equally as enjoyable, putting me in no hurry to leave.

10:23 p.m. - On the road for the last big haul. Try not to think about how many hours of driving are ahead of me.

1:45 p.m. - Pull into a Burger King drive-thru for lunch. When ordering 4 chicken tenders for $1, I expected them to be bigger.

2:56/1:56 p.m. - Back in central time zone. Gained an hour of unpacking time, but at the moment it feels like an extra hour of driving time.

2:22 p.m. - Desperately need a chocolate milkshake. Want to make pit stop twice as productive by also getting gas. Filling up now should keep me from having to stop again before arriving at the apartment. Walk into the world's oldest McDonald's for milkshake. Take the car across the street for gas, and audibly shout when I see the price: $3.19 a gallon. Put just 2 gallons in the car and vow to never stop for gas in Illinois again.

3:13 p.m. - In need of human interaction. Attempt to call people. Wake up the nurse in Arizona. "Go back to sleep," is the extent of conversation. Stick in Rent and settle for singing along.

4:37 p.m. - Roll down the windows to get some air flow. Instantly regret it. The air is thick with heat and humidity, nearly suffocating me. Should have paid closer attention when Mom was talking about Missouri's temperatures.

5:18 p.m. - Stop for gas just short of Columbia. Curse the weather of this state, and actually miss Rochester weather.

5:34 p.m. - Pull into the same parking space the car vacated 3 weeks ago. Gift bag from Grandma splits at the bottom as I am carrying all of the random bags upstairs. By a stroke of brilliant luck the coffee mugs that fall out do not break. Retrieve mugs and continue with the unpacking. Lug the overburdened suitcase up the stairs last. Cats greet me at the door and follow me around the apartment throughout the unpacking process. Welcome home.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

August 5 - Great Eastern Tour Day 20

Miles travelled: 414.6
CDs: 6
Cornhole games: 3

10:14 a.m. - Pack up the car. There is more stuff going back than came with me. That is the benefit of driving: lots of trunk space for things acquired en route.

10:28 a.m. - Watch roof shingles fall from the sky onto our deck. Thank God that roofers didn't show until well after my alarm went off, as they began with the piece of roof by my room.

11:23 a.m. - Pull off the curb, Mom and Dad behind me on their way to the lake. Wave the "I love you" sign out the window and wipe my eyes. Columbus here I come.

12:09 p.m. - Pit stop less than an hour into the drive. Seriously disappointing. Drinking 2 pints of water before leaving the house was obviously a bad maneuver.

5:37 p.m. - Pull up outside godparents' house. Grab oboe player's bagels so they don't get gooey in the hot car. Don't make it to the house before godfather comes out to greet me. Large elevated boards with a hole are laying in the garage. They are for "cornhole," a regional game that oboe player and her boyfriend have been working to build the equipment for all week. The finishing touches are being put on the bean bags. Once completed an inaugural game is planned. Catch up with oboe player while she finishes bean bag. Briefly meet her boyfriend on the stairs.

7:12 p.m. - The rookies win the first game of cornhole. Godfather must cook, and it's not a good 3 -person game, so practice ensues until dinner. Steak, baked potatoes, and salad are set out to eat. Thoroughly excited by the prospect of such an awesome meal. Manage not to splinter the toothpicks insterted in steak to hold bacon wrap in place. Eat well and get to chat while boyfriend silently cleans up. Determine there is enough light for a cornhole rematch before dark.

9:05 p.m. - Cornhole goes a lot faster once the throw is mastered. Manage to get in 2 games before the light is gone. Debate with oboe player whether or not we'll be sore tomorrow from the activity.

9:22 p.m. - Godfather puts Beethoven's 2nd on TV, more because it is in HD than he actually wants to watch it.

10:32 p.m. - Oboe player and I veto Beethoven's 4th. There is no more capacity for insipid child movies. Find Legally Blonde. Attempt to validate oboe player's claim that the movie is empowering.

Friday, August 04, 2006

August 4 - Great Eastern Tour Day 19

Movies: 2
Mutant corn: 1
Gifts given: 2

9:58 a.m. - Check movie times. Was contemplating asking fun-guy to delay pick-up time by an hour, until realize had movie time wrong. Our movie begins 2 hours earlier than anticipated. Instead of going later, decide to leave early.

10:50 a.m. - Arrive 10 minutes early. Fun-guy is not dressed yet. Meet her cats while she readies herself. Laugh at my movie time mistake.

11:23 p.m. - Dig into the details of our recent lives over deep-dish pepperoni pizza. Finally get to see a picture of the fiance. Had completely forgotten yelling at fun-guy for not having a picture of him at Christmas. Glad she remembered. There is worry over how much her back will ever heal from multiple surgeries. Perhaps now there is less camping and hiking in our future, but one certainly does not need a good back to share a deep-dish pizza.

2:33 p.m. - Blinded upon exit from viewing my first Woody Allen movie. The problem with afternoon movies is the sunlight shock when you exit the theater. The problem with Woody Allen movies is he gets a little annoying. Movie itself was fun, good plot, well written, and enjoyable. The continuing weirdness off Allen's character becoming just over-bearing enough to bring the movie down a notch.

2:55 p.m. - Turn the corner to see a giant dumpster sitting in the driveway. Park on the curb/in lawn. Baby brother did it - can blame him if there is flack from Dad. Wonder if Mom's car is trapped in the garage. She is not home and thus clearly not trapped. Fun-guy and I hang out on the porch until the parents arrive home so she can see them both.

5:51 p.m. - Shucking corn for dinner with baby brother. One ear has a tumor corn attached. Set it aside to check out later and continue shucking the normal ears. Baby brother points out mutant corn has fallen onto deck. While leaning over to pick it up, chair snaps underneath me. Nothing hurt but the chair and my heart rate. Chuck the chair into the lawn where it shatters into a few more pieces. Back to mutant corn. Shuck it and contemplate daring brother to eat it. Think better of dare given his recent sickly state.

7:02 p.m. - Give parents slightly belated anniversary gift, as well as early birthday gift for Dad. Parents will be going to see The Blue Man Group in October. Warn them binoculars may be necessary to actually see blue men from their seats. Dad will now be sleeping on funny foam pillow like baby brother's. Discuss whether or not it could feasibly be packed for his upcoming trip to CA. Decide it's probably not quite squishy enough for suitcase travel.

8:38 p.m. - Family is watching The Killing Fields. Still not entirely sure how or why baby brother wound up with this movie. Movie is interesting, moving, and educational. Slightly disappointed in myself for knowing nothing about the topic prior to this viewing. Much of the film is in a foreign language or unscripted, leaving me to feel it is probably a similar experience to that of my students watching an uncaptioned movie.

11:56 p.m. - Start packing, trying not to think too hard about reality of having to leave tomorrow.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

August 3 - Great Eastern Tour Day 18

Stores: 6
Dresses tried on: 9
Dog slobber spots: 1

11:00 a.m. - Walk next door to get Moosh. Immediately upon entering house see her green jacket on the floor and realize there is no pull-over shoved in my purse to combat the icebox-like tempteratures of the movie theater. Briefly backtrack to the house with Moosh in tow.

11:26 a.m. - "I shop in juniors now." Suddenly feeling old and somewhat nostalgic for the days of wandering the children's section while Moosh pulls nearly every article of clothing off the racks to try on. The plus side is that browsing for clothes selection will take half as long with just one area to look in. Try on a few of the same dresses in different sizes. She picks out some really nice dresses. Lament that there is nowhere to wear nice dresses, and so no reson to purchase. Both find great jeans. This brand of jean is also on sale 2-for-1. Will have to be sure and check sizes carefully when we separate them at home - there is now a mjuch higher risk of confusing clothing.

12:15 p.m. - Poor Moosh gets asked if she'd like a children's menu when the waitress at Friendly's seats us. We both order wraps, then settle in to important discussion: boys. There has been a changing of boyfriends that I missed and details must be hashed out. Discover that Mom has been doling out more of her sage advice. Other life is discussed. Wraps are consumed, leaving no room for ice cream. Better to continue the shopping and have candy at the movie.

2:02 p.m. - Green glitter is flowing mercilessly onto my clothes. Moosh has managed to pick out a dress that not only makes us look like Tinkerbell, but comes complete with fairy dust. There are still a few more to try on, several have been tried and discarded, all are glittery. There will be glitter on me for days. Selection here is also better than anywhere else. Moosh has decided this is the best place to shop for 9th grade formal. As we leave it dawns on me her 9th grade formal is 2 years away.

2:28 p.m. - Force Moosh to try on just one shirt that isn't green. She doesn't like how it fits. Don't get to see it on her.

3:52 p.m. - Watching Click, a movie we both wanted to see and had no one in our respective homes to see it with. Slightly taken aback by the language being used in a movie rated PG-13.

5:28 p.m. - Realize I have screwed up and will be late to meet flute girl for dinner. Rush Moosh home and promise to come back tomorrow. There is not time to see the things she wants to show, due to my time error.

6:25 p.m. - Flute girl is now 10 minutes later, 5 minutes later than I was. Calling flute girl to inform her of my potential tardiness was clearly foolish.

6:50 p.m. - Order salad for dinner. Still full of movie popcorn and Skittles. Flute girl and I catch up on her job. The full story on her crummy move and new landlord is disclosed. Husband interjects occasionally, mostly paying attention to the baseball game playing over my shoulder.

8:03 p.m. - Visit flute girls new house. Not nearly so bad as she and husband think. Rooms are small, especially for their large furniture, but not unmanageable. Paint job is good, with exception of bright yellow bathroom. We wonder if white sponge paint over it could help. One random space could be a good dog home space. Problem being, dogs refuse to sleep in any room but "mommy and daddy's." Not sure large bed, rottweiller , and pit bull will all fit in same room once dogs are full size. Manage to get slobbered on by rottweiller just before leaving.

8:22 p.m. - For the second time this trip I get to drive all the way across the city in the pouring rain. At least the car refrains from sputtering in the water this time.

10:07 p.m. - Decide to try watching an episode of The West Wing with commentary. About a quarter through get sick of the commentary as it prohibits my hearing any of the lines. Start the episode over without commentary.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

August 2 - Great Eastern Tour Day 17

Tokens: 100
Tickets: 305
Money spent: $27.41

10:53 a.m. - Excited for the first of 2 days for girls' day out with the neighbor girls. Opt to call neighbors before heading over - they just returned form vacation and may be catching up on sleep. Turns into a wise decision as all but the mom are still in slumber land. We discuss what the girls want to do with their days, and decide it is best for me to take the youngest out today.

11:36 a.m. - Neighbor mom calls 2 minutes after I hang up the phone with the youngest daughter. Munchkin was not clear in her message. There was misunderstanding. Mom is calling to clarify that Munchkin meant for me to pick her up at 1, not in 1 minute. Hang up, and go back to watching TNT's prime time in the daytime with Mom.

1:00 p.m. - Upon entering neighbor's house, a vast array of children's pink clothing is visible on the couch. Before leaving, all of Munchkin's new clothing must be admired. She has pretty good taste, even if it is all pink.

1:48 p.m. - Munchkin nearly takes my eye out with a football. Didn't realize standing behind someone half my size while she tries to throw a footballl to a height she can't see above would be so dangerous. Direct her towards games that are less likely to cause bodily harm. Amass another long string of tickets at a game whose sole purpose is to acquire large quantities of tickets by making a spinning light stop at a high number. What happened to the games where you actually had to do something to earn tickets? Use up the last third of our hundred tokens on Skee Ball, the greatest arcade game aside from Ms. Pac-Man. With Munchkin at my side there is, however, sill risk of bodily harm.

1:52 p.m. - Ticket counting machines are the best invention ever. We have accumulated 305 tickets that didn't need to be counted by hand. There is now 1 piece of paper in my pocket, instead of 305 tiny ones. Good deal.

2:45 p.m. - The ball factory has gotten tiresome. About 1/3 of the air pressure machines for shooting, floating, or otherwise moving the colored foam balls don't work. Small children are starting to pelt me with balls. As they aren't my students, I feel it is a little inappropriate to retaliate. Not that there is a problem with fighting back, but I'd rather pelt people I know, and Munchkin has already been sufficiently chased and blasted by me. Convince Munchkin we should go eat.

3:03 p.m. - Miniature golf in the blasting heat. The brief downpour earlier did nothing to alleviate the humidity. It did, however, manage to drench the putting greens, so that each ball hit leaves a spray of water behind it. Receive what could be valuable advice from Munchkin: "you just have to hit the ball real hard." Can see that she certainly subscribes to this method as we chase her ball off into the hedges several times.

3:58 p.m. - After careful consideration and numerous mental math attempts, all tickets have been cashed in exchange for a myriad of pink prizes.

4:14 p.m. - Munchkin carries out the stuffed dog she insisted on making for me at the wannabe build-a-bear in the arcade. It looks exactly like their family dog, which is why it was chosen, and bears the same name. He is clad in a soccer uniform as both the girls play soccer. The intent is for me to have him to remember them by, hug him when I miss them, and always bring him with me when travelling.

5:52 p.m. - Splashing around in the pool with the girls. The ratio of pool toys to people is 2:1. Almost none are in use as Munchkin lets me throw her in the air and Moosh attempts walking across the pool in her hands. This is leagues different than hanging in the pool with baby brother.

6:47 p.m. - Dad cleans up from dinner. Different rant, same topic:
"Tupperware without a lid is like a one-legged pair of pants - it doesn't do you much good.....unless of course you only have one leg."

7:17 p.m. - Exhausted from my day with the Munchkin. Not enough energy to start reading Faulkner, and there are no other mindless books in my suitcase. Read through the For Better or Worse book bought for Mom a few weeks ago. The parents stick in season 1 of Lost. Pseudo pay attention - any attempt to understand the show was given up long ago.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

August 1 - Great Eastern Tour Day 16

Money spent: $8
Change of plans: 3
Visits: 2

9:26 a.m. - There will be no running today. It is not even contemplated. Three minutes outside is enough to wilt a person.

10:38 a.m. - Head downtown to purchase Mom and Dad's anniversary gift. Glad I waited to check directions; the course to my destination wasn't exactly what I'd thought.

12:20 p.m. - Visiting my Rochester grandma. She's starting to repeat herself, an indication that it's time to think about leaving. Despite the redundant conversation, I stay glued to my chair. Every movement towards leaving is suppressed by the nagging fear that this visit is the last. She is ready to go and join her husband. Finally, I feel at peace with that. I am selfish and still dread the knowledge that every hug could be the last, but the thought of my Rochester grandparents together again is comforting.

1:34 p.m. - Big Lots is full of hidden treasures. Kashi Go-Lean Crunch, hair dye, and bug spray for under $8. It is worth browsing through the junk for these awesome finds. There should be a Big Lots in every college town. Fairly certain it would be more successful than Wal-Mart.

4:04 p.m. - Part II of Oprah's schools in crisis. Not quite as depressing as yesterday. This edition is more about what's being done to solve the problem. Strong admiration for the people out there making amazing things happen.

5:25 p.m. - Panda calls to cancel our plans for the night. She has gotten seriously ill working outdoors all day at camp. Bed is in her immediate future. Half pay attention to dinner while trying to figure out what to do with my night.

7:34 p.m. - Swimming with accident boy. Panda's cancellation was the perfect opportunity to call him up to hang out, and there's nothing wrong with a swim when the temperature is still pushing 90. The water allows accident boy to move much more freely than on dry land. We float about chatting. Discussion of brain injury treatment and accessibility issues with finding his own apartment are a completely normal part of the conversation. Their German shepherd twice my size is anxious to jump in, but restrains itself. A dog that big deserves a manlier name than Scooter.

9:10 p.m. - Need to start a new book, but update blog instead.

July 31 - Great Eastern Tour Day 15

Runs: 1
Beers: 1
Moments reminiscing: 13

9:36 a.m. - Sweat my way through a run. Getting to the point where gills would be really useful for breathing outdoors.

11:11 a.m. - Coffee in a library just seems wrong. Far too much danger of damaged books. Glad the public library didn't start that until after my tenure as employee was complete. The new signage and painting the local coffee shop provided to go with the coffee corner is very nice, but that won't matter much when trying to pry apart the sticky pages of books with coffee spills. While wandering around the library, it is a little depressing to realize I no longer can find things without needing the guides at the end of each aisle. Too much has been moved or shifted. Do manage to find exercise books for Mom without knowing the exact number section. Good to know some skills still exist. The reality of how long I've been gone sinks in when my old boss talks about her grandchilren whose existence I was unaware of. The oldest one is 5 - quickly do the math and realize that's a year after my employ ended.

2:02 p.m. - More time at the piano. An old, old tune has been playing in my head all day, and finally it can be released as the world around me slips away.

2:42 p.m. - Brother comes home sweltering from the heat and lack of A/C in his car, so we hit the pool. The neighbors will be home tomorrow. Attempt to clean up the pool bottom in anticipation of their return. Discover that the leaves are not as connected as they appeared from the surface. Hard to grab at things that float and drift as the water moves. Good way to stay occupied and busy in the pool.

4:04 p.m. - Oprah is doing a show on the school crisis in America. The information she presents is shocking. At the same time it is totally unsprurpising to me. The plight of my profession and colleagues is familiar and yet foreign. Most disheartening is its affect on our students. I commend Oprah for her efforts, and pray the backlash doesn't land squarely on the shoulders of teachers.

9:03 p.m. - Meet the writer at a local bar (okay, only bar in our suburb) for drinks. An ambulance is sitting at the door when I park the car. Old man gets wheeled out on a gurney, blocking my entry. This better not be an omen for the evening.

9:25 p.m. - Details of the writer's brother's wedding (his reason for being in town) are sufficiently covered.
"I was cracking them up with the toast. Then, I wowed them on the dance floor."
"I"m sure you did."
"Are you using sarcasm with me?"
"Don't I always?"
"Why do you think I wouldn't wow them on the dance floor?"
"I'm not saying you didn't wow them, but how do you know they weren't saying, 'wow, that guy's a terrible dancer!'?"

10:12 p.m. - Finish first beer. Pitch to the writer why he should grant an audition for his film to the actress' boyfriend. May have actually managed to get him interested. Learn a lot about life in the world of Nickelodeon and being a production assistant. Sounds slightly better than being coffee getter, but at least he finally has a full time job to support him while writing. The thought that this low-grade job probably nets him more than me is perturbing, until balanced with the fact that he's paying bills in LA.

10:44 p.m. - Forgo second pint of beer. Not sure how much longer we'll be here (or how late the place is open), and there's no one to drive me home. Conversation moves on to relationships, why we don't have them, and why that's okay. Finally, a person who somewhat understands my take on these things.

11:23 p.m. - Talking about how and why we hated each other in high school. A classic example of Shakespearian misconceptions. Or maybe a vicious cycle. There are elements of both which I ponder while reliving some of the less enjoyable aspects of my high school years. At least we have both grown-up. Friends is better than enemies, we've decided.

12:18 a.m. - Leave bar. Conversation topics have run out, as has my energy. Good night, at least for us - not so sure how it went for ambulance guy.