Talk Don't Change a Thing

"Fader," The Temper Trap

"If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery—isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is."

-Charles Bukowski, Factotum

'Round the World We'll Go

"On Melancholy Hill," Gorillaz

I am certain you make your own luck. People must set out to find their own servings of happiness; etch their own places in the universe; create their own perfect moments. Win or lose, the score of our own lives is entirely up to the choices and figurative "plays" we make day to day. As Ray Bradbury said so poignantly: "All you umpires, back to the bleachers. Referees, hit the showers. It's my game. I pitch, I hit, I catch. I run the bases. At sunset I've won or lost. At sunrise, I'm going out again, giving it the old try."

I believe happiness and fortune and peace can be found in such a variety of different avenues and adventures. For me, falling asleep with sand in my sheets does the trick. So does reading a good book outside, or playing a board game on a rainy afternoon. Live music in the park on a warm summer day. Eggs over-easy. Watching a mother gray whale lazily make her way up the coast in early April. Some of my most perfect days end with 7-11 hot chocolate and a walk on the beach. However, I also know that travel is important to my life. Near or far, exploring the various corners of the world satisfies an unnamed curiosity in me. Together, Tim and I have been lucky enough to travel to some of our favorite spots:

 Avalon Bay, Catalina Island

 Library at Ephesus, Turkey

Heron Island, Great Barrier Reef, Australia

Mykonos, Greece

St. Lucia, Carribean

But we're not done. A few places we'd like to visit before the next life: 

Alaska

Madagascar/Seychelles, Indian Ocean

Trevi Fountain, Rome, Italy

 Galapagos Islands

 Guadalupe Island

 Milford Sound, South Island, New Zealand

Appalachian Trail (to Springer Mountain, Georgia)

Mount Kilimanjaro, Tanzania, Africa 

Whistler Blackcomb, British Columbia, Canada

This might take awhile.

"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness..."

-Mark Twain

Wounds Always Speak Too Loud

"Citizen," Broken Bells

Today I had a bad day. I was having just a mediocre day until my fifth period class managed to throw every possible wrench and negative comment into what should have otherwise been an enjoyable and funny creative writing exercise. While I love them, my fifth period class is comprised of five girls and (yes, I promise this is true) 27 boys. Of which, approximately 25 are stereotypical "skater boys." Who are sweet. And kind. But also immature. And apathetic. And inappropriate. And stoned distracted and detached after lunch.

Sample conversations from today's class:

Isabelle [after reading the daily schedule]: We have a test today?!
Me: No, don't worry. It's not for points. I'll explain later. But please don't freak out.
Cody: You didn't tell us we had a test today! That's totally unfair.
Me: I know I didn't tell you. Did you hear me just tell Isa-
Eddie: Wait, we have a test today!?
Me: No...you guys, just listen. I promise I'll explain when we get there. It's nothing to worry about, it's meant to help you study for the final. You have my word, it can't hurt your grade. But right now it's time for the creative writing journal. So you need to take out a piece of-
Ty: What are we doing today? [Looks to daily schedule] Wait! We have a test today? It wasn't on schoolloop.
Me: I don't understand. Am I not being clear? You are going to take a test on-
Zach: THERE'S A TEST TODAY?!?!

*          *          *          *

Me [extremely irritated]: It saddens me that this class seems to be having trouble understanding how having fun with creative writing and being mature can go together. It looks like you can't handle the freedom that comes along with this unit, and I guess we need to end the year with some in-class essays. That is, unless whoever anonymously wrote "A 52-year-old rapist, who is a member of the Taliban" as a potential fictional character for one of the group stories can admit it to me after class.

(five minutes later)

Student: Yeah...I'll take the blame.
Me: Well that's pretty unclear. Are you saying you wrote it, or that you'll just take the blame for it?
Student: Uh, I wrote it.
Me: Why? I mean, what about this seemed appropriate to you?
Student: Uh, I don't know.
Me: Really? Do you really not know?
Student: No, yeah, uh, you're right.
Me: Look, I know you think this is funny, and your buddies got a laugh out of it. I don't care. It's still completely inappropriate, disrespectful, and in poor taste. And also, so immature.
Student: ...

(Sidenote: In retrospect, this is probably where I should have stopped with the reprimanding).

Me: So, basically, I guess I'm just pretty nervous that you're about to be a senior. I mean...I'm shocked that a seventeen-year-old would write something as childish as this. A "52-year-old rapist? In the Taliban?" Really?
Student: Yeah...I know...
Me: You're a smart kid. I mean, this is stupid. But you're a smart kid. I expected more. And you're going to be a senior. Come on.
Student: Yeah...it was stupid...
Me: So what do you have to say?
Student: I'm sorry?
Me: Is that a question?
Student: No. I'm sorry.
Me: And it's not going to happen again?
Student: Right.
Me: Goodbye.

According to the Broken Bells, "the high road is hard to find." That's for damn sure. I like to think I take it most of the time. But today, while giving my fifth period kids a guilt trip about their inability to focus, and then audibly informing my co-teacher they were the only class who couldn't handle the assignment, I'm pretty sure I was slumming my way down the low road. Perhaps with extra grenades of bitterness, contempt, and exhaustion.

The remedy? Fish tacos and Bud Light Lime. Pleasure reading before bed. And, of course, some of Emerson's wisdom to shake me into a better tomorrow:

Finish each day and be done with it.  

You have done what you could; 

some blunders and absurdities have crept in; 

forget them as soon as you can.  

Tomorrow is a new day; 

you shall begin it serenely, and with too high a spirit 

to be encumbered with your old nonsense.