8.31.2005

first foolishness

today was the first day. the first day they walked into my classroom. i've already made a fool of myself. instead of saying "lady audley's secret" (or some such nonsense) i said "lady chatterly's lover." once it came out, i couldn't stop myself. that was followed by: "oh dear, i think that is some wildly inappropriate french novel!" (it's not even french-i should know that right?) some looked shocked, others blank, some tittered nervously, i blushed. i still couldn't stop: "i can't believe i just referenced a wildly inappropriate french novel." yes, i used the words "wildly inappropriate french novel" once again. then just to make it clearer in all their fresh minds (notice i said FRESH, not FRENCH) i said: "that's almost as bad as referencing madame bovary." (that really is a wildly inappropriate french novel) a few more faces lit up. if they hadn't known what i was talking about before, i had just made it perfectly clear. i blushed once again (just to make sure it matched the exact shade of red in my hair). i then said the inane: "i think i'd better stop now." "yes," they were all thinking, "yes you really should..."

the bell rang.

i was elated.

later i was told that one of my students said my class was "lively."

i hope it goes better tomorrow...

8.29.2005

anyday moon

for the dreamers:

you can put in a date and see what the moon looked like that day

happy happy moon.

8.28.2005

turned...

i'm officially 30--as of about 8:30 something central standard time....

a few sublime birthday facts:

1. martin luther king, jr., tells more than 200,000 people he has a dream in 1963
2. in 1996 after four years of separation, charles and his wife, princess diana, formally divorce
3. johann wolfgang von goethe, germany's greatest poet and dramatist, was born (1749-1832)
4. in 1988 actor jason robards is awarded an emmy for his performance in the miniseries inherit the wind
5. most importantly, my aunt awoke out of an almost 2 month long coma in 1975 on the same day i arrived

another o'er

standing on a box of bubbly bars

recently been chatting with friends about those that feel the need to let everyone know how "different" they are, and how much they like you because they think you are "cool." let it be known: i am not cool, i have never been cool, i do not want to be cool. the same people who think you are this wonderful thing are the same people who are striving intensely to be "different." many times to the detriment of their own identity.

this makes me sick. here is why:

i hold the firm belief that *everyone* is different/unique. simple right? no! so many people think they are alone in the world being unique. i always want to ask: "what makes you so special?" but instead i *should* ask: "what makes you the only one who is special?" where do we get this notion that everyone (but me and my few closest friends--of course) is walking in lock step?

i embrace the fact that i am unique. it is the biggest banner i wave. frankly though, sometime this uniqueness is pretty mundane: i like hot dogs, the color green, getting birthday cards in the mail, and driving my honda civic. there are millions of other people in the world that like and do these same things! but herein lies my uniqueness: there are *not* millions of other people who like these things in this exact same sequence, combination and level of intensity. i like the smell of dirt--ok, no i love the smell of dirt--ok, no again, i love things that smell and taste like dirt. yes, i know this is strange, but this is not just something i think i kind of like, this is bound up in the woof and weave of my very soul! it is something that defines me. it is my God given gift. yes, i really do see it this way!

i am stunned every day at the menagerie of souls i encounter. each individually created by a God who revels in uniqueness--a God that created this beautiful universe full of things as different as my armpit and a black hot star (if those things aren't unique i don't know what is!). the beauty of my armpit (i wanted to say that:) is that it's just being an armpit. it's not trying to be the sun (and for this i am grateful). this is a weird analogy i know, but bear with me here. the people i admire most are not those people that think i'm "cool." the ones who are putting all their energy into being "different." i admire those that are going about being armpits--they're genuine. they are putting all their passion into being just what they are. they aren't fretting about the search for themselves--they may be on the scavenger hunt (like so many are), but they're taking it one moment's experience at a time. they're being unique without trying...

this is the most unusual thing you can do.

8.27.2005

turning....

i just discovered i share a birthday with jason priestly

visions of 90210 danced in her head...

turning....

"thirty was so strange for me. i've really had to come to terms with the fact that I am now a walking and talking adult."

c. s. lewis

8.25.2005

ok, so

ok, so there is something really surreal about the beginning of a new semester. i always feel like everyone else knows what's going on except me. like i'm the sound reel on a movie that is just one tiny second behind the picture. possibly the dubbed in english on a bruce lee film. remember those? all this trying to catch up mentally might be fruitless. usually nothing changes in a bruce lee film.

ok, so usually i do catch up....eventually.

ok, so have you ever had a conversation with someone you know has a problem with drinking. you've been told things are this way, so you're not just guessing about this here. so, you're talking to this person on the phone or in person, and you're trying to figure out if they're having one of their "not so good moments." you're reacting like normal (you are after all givng it your best), but you're trying to figure out if they've figured out that you're trying to figure out if they're ok.

ok, so i think i'm obsessed with the radio. not music, but the spoken word. that crackly, tin can, AM sounding voice. the one that reminds you of being 7 and a half in the dewey green grass on a early fall evening with the late summer lightning bug lights of the park on the hill glowing the way.

ok, so when you have no tv, you revert to 7 and a half, feeling one tiny second behind, and you miss bruce lee...