Some Times I Wouldn't Change for the World

"Swing Life Away," Rise Against

Things I should be doing:

* Grading hundreds (literally) of papers
* Returning phone calls
* Laundry
* Re-reading the last four chapters of The Scarlet Letter and planning the end of the unit
* Cleaning out my car

Things I am doing:

* About to start my third Stella of the day
* Sharing new music with my brother
* Admiring my dad's three beautiful horses
* Listening to my husband butcher "Like a G6"
* Deciding which sides go best with tri-tip

It's so perfect.

Vaya Con Dios...

You Look Like You've Seen a Ghost

"Sometime Around Midnight," The Airborne Toxic Event

I've always liked Halloween: The decorations, the candy, the scary movies. Growing up, my family always embraced the holiday. It was more than the fake cobwebs on the front patio gate or the trick-or-treating. Most years, my parents both dressed up. Most years, my mom made my costume weeks before, spending hours covered in superglue and diligently working over a sewing machine. Most years, my brother and I recruited our neighborhood friends to construct an elaborate haunted house, meticulously weaving our "victims" through the spookified backyard in a decorated coffin-esque dolly. 

This year, Tim made a surprise trip to San Diego. Ill-timed costumes aside, we had an amazing night.

Two Chairs, One Empty in the Corner

"Two Cups of Coffee," Josh Kelley


Living apart is more difficult than I initially anticipated    is really hard    sucks. 

You're a falling star, You're the get-away car.
You're the line in the sand when I go too far.
You're the swimming pool, on an August day.
And You're the perfect thing to say. 

The days are vibrant and scurrying-beetle-busy. The nights go by too fast and the phone isn't enough. To hear the inflection and the tone in a voice is one ladder rung better than an e-mail or a text, but there isn't a voice beautiful or powerful enough in the world to compare with the physical contact and affection of a simple hug. I miss him and I know it. Some days I don't know how to get those words out in the way I want to, and instead it comes out in frustrated and unwarranted anger. 

You're a carousel, you're a wishing well,
And you light me up, when you ring my bell.
You're a mystery, you're from outer space,
You're every minute of my everyday.

We fight because it's late and we're exhausted and we have to get up in a few hours. He's not here and I'm not there and I can't talk for long because I have at least two more hours of work before I go to bed. And the power's out and Bailey needs more Advantage and the laundry needs to be done and can we really afford that this month? And then, we spend too many hours not talking, allowing our stubborn natures to entangle like a disease, infecting the already too little space we do have to talk and laugh and share. Because it's more important to be right and to win then it is to apologize and retract. Or so it seems, then.

Whatever comes our way, ah we'll see it through,
And you know that's what our love can do.

Sometimes we say things we don't mean and it hurts and I wonder if the effects run deeper--longer-- than any visible scars. Because the truth is, there aren't instructions for living 300 miles away from your best friend and husband. There isn't a guidebook or a script or a magic band-aid that takes away the confusion and the loneliness. Not that I'd want it necessarily if there was-- life's intricate mystery and beauty is often masked and indecipherable before the lesson or the "product" is revealed. But until then, this metaphorical ocean will inevitably be full of both calm and high seas. And truth be told, I haven't navigated these particular waves before. Some days, then, the tranquility must come from what we know and where we've been rather than where we currently are.

And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, You make me sing
You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.

They say strong ships always come back to safe harbor. The weathered vessels-- the ones full of creaks, rust, torn masts, barnacles-- are perhaps the most powerful, as their strength has been tested and proven amidst even the harshest stretch of sea. It makes sense relationships would follow the relatively same logic, and while the figurative passages without land in sight are isolated and scary, the end reward is so rich and sweet and gratifying...

You're every song, and I sing along.
'Cause you're my everything.

The Way My Life's Got to Be

"The Reeling," Passion Pit

Tomorrow's class schedule on the whiteboard, check. Sigh over the amount of grading that's not done, check. Put on my rapist jacket raincoat and walk to the car, check. Stop at 7-11 for the extra-large-24-ounce cup of nature's best hot chocolate, check. Walk Bailey, check. Avoid the stack of bills, check. Eat the rest of yesterday's deviled egg salad, check. Collapse into the couch and watch 44 minutes of bad TV, check. Listen to Nelly "Just a Dream" and Jay Sean "2012" as motivation music, check. Turn on the computer (and, obviously, Pandora) and begin to plan for tomorrow, check. Go to bed too late and prepare for a repeat tomorrow, check. Boring? Maybe. Necessary? Definitely. I've been traveling the last four weekends in a row, and while My Life: October 2010 has been full of beautiful people, beautiful places, and beautiful memories (pictures and stories to come!), I cannot wait for this upcoming weekend. What's in store? Oh, no big deal, just an entire 48 hour block of pure, unadulterated laziness. Featuring: me, my couch, my television, my huge cotton sweats (men's size large, thanks), 85 cups of coffee, and Trader Joe's cereal. Oh, and sleeping in until 10. At least. Sure, I'll have to do a little quite a bit of grading. But I don't plan on leaving the house. Except to take Bailey out. Maybe.

Here's to the weekend. And also, Christopher Columbus, since I'll be teaching his 1494 letter to the king and queen of Spain next week:

We make lists, we make plans,
to write books, to form bands,
Or move to Kreuzberg and escape into the night
So pack your bags, let's take control
you and me, let's go the next time you're lonely
or the next time that you're free

So why, so why, so why
If we can make the plans, can we just not find the time

Don't get me wrong
I know it's hard and the good things never last
Yet there's no point waiting for the miracle to save your life
If you took the time to find what's real amongst the
baggage that you feel is holding you back
the demons cast aside...

The safe way is not the way to live your life
Your mind is beautiful, don't let the daydreams die

-"Find the Time," Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly

If I Get Home Before Daylight...

 ...I just might get some sleep tonight

"Friend of the Devil," Grateful Dead

Grades are due at noon tomorrow; I'm DEFINITELY not done grading a huge stack of Sylvia Plath/Langston Hughes AP comparison essays, and it's already 10:30 PM. Tim and I went to Justin and Melissa's (beautiful!) wedding in Sacramento this weekend and had a blast--SUCH a happy couple, and SO good to see all of Tim's Michigan friends--, although "dehydrated" and "exhausted" are certainly two words at the top of my current list of About Me adjectives.

I have so much to write about and zero time to do it, but I wanted to write a quick post to document that my kids are--for the most part-- just flat out RAD and I'm absolutely loving my classes...30 students today decided to take me up on what we've dubbed the Transcendental Challenge; they're attempting 8 days with no texting, no Facebook, and no instant messaging of any kind-- I'm SO proud of them. AND, Tim and I have the honor and privilege of attending Justin and Collen's wedding this upcoming weekend in SB. As busy and overloaded and DVR-Us-Weekly-deprived as I am, sometimes I'm not quite sure if life gets any better...

(And then, I stumble across the following badass picture of the one and only EAP, and I realize that actually, it does:)

pondering weak and weary? hardly...

Some Things Tie Your Life Together...

...slender threads and things to treasure
"Dusk and Summer," Dashboard Confessional

The Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?
[Alice checks his temperature]
Alice: I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.

Well, thank God. Because honestly, I'm thisclose to being there. Actually, scratch that-- I might already be there. Perhaps I'm perpetually waiting at the Bonkers bus stop, wondering if I should climb aboard the next bus and figure out whether my current journey is cyclical (and I can look forward to a return to sanity!) or the next stopping point only travels further into the abyss of chaos and craziness; clutter and despair.


Okay. Time to back up. True to form, that last statement is overdramatic and excessive-- (sorry Mom-- try as I might, that tendency to exaggerate may just be permanently ingrained in my disposition). But in all seriousness, I'm exhausted. And just flat out overworking myself. I'm teaching a new class this year, and in the past four weeks I've spent just too many hours over-analyzing lesson plans and under-sleeping. Editing senior personal statements and helping my former juniors apply for scholarships, figure out college choices, and begin to answer the always-changing and ever-metaphorical question of "Who Am I?" While that might sound a little over-the-top, I honestly have a handful of kids who are on the aforementioned kick; questing to determine their place in the world and the role they're supposed to fill in society. Case in point: 

Student: But aren't I supposed to find a college that caters to what I want? 
Me: You mean in terms of a major? No, not necessarily...most people enter college unsure of what they want to do; what field they want to pursue. 
Student:  I heard you're supposed to KNOW before you go to college. That way you pick the right college. I mean, what if my college doesn't end up having what I want to major in? 
Me: Well, I entered college as a Marine Biology and Ecology major. And now I teach high school English. Just like almost every college out there, my college offered both. Even if you have an idea of what you want to pursue now, there's a pretty good chance that might change. 
Student: Oh my God! So how am I supposed to pick a college??? 
Me: That's where you need to research. Geographically, where do you want to go to school? How big of a student population are you looking for?
Student: Psychology. 
Me: ...

My lunch periods and hour-long blocks of time after school are devoted to current and former students needing help, wanting advice, begging for guidance. Desiring a paper-editing session. Sitting in frustration because they failed a reading quiz and are now serving a detention. Holding back tears due to recent unwanted and ill-timed news. Brimming with pride because the scholarship came early. Visiting from college, beaming to tell me about the poems they're reading in English 101. Frantically asking about student loans, thesis statements, or punctuation placement. I'm on overload, and I need a place to transfer these jumbled emotions, however fleeting and haphazard, from the chasm of my brain onto a more tangible surface. In doing so, I can do my best to look in from an Outsider's Point of View. Truth be told, I have to let some of it go. I can't sit down with every single one of my students to go over an essay draft. I can't anticipate and plan for every single potential question which might arise from that assignment. I can't re-read every chapter. I think my biggest hurdle, then, is being okay with that. And I'm getting there.

What I need, perhaps, is a healthy dose of perspective. Because really, I think my biggest irritation thus far today has been that my iPhone camera doesn't have a zoom. And I got to spend the weekend with my dad; playing gin rummy, drinking expensive non-Trader Joe's wine, watching Robin Hood, and learning how to drive a tractor. AND, because sometimes I think Pandora honestly has the ability to read my mind, the live version of Counting Crows' "Rain King" magnificently just appeared on my Van Morrison station.

The day before my wedding, my aunt said to me: Just always remember that there are no dress rehearsals in real life. Second chances are extremely rare, and because of that you have to be willing to take every risk and hold nothing back, ever. Enjoy these moments. Live them.

Duly noted.  

Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, 

of just going along, 

listening to all the things you can't hear, 

and not bothering.  

~Pooh's Little Instruction Book, inspired by A.A. Milne

Right Here in the California Sun

"Sinner," Scott Russo feat. Big B

And just like that, summer was over...


The kids are back. School's in session. My days are once again brimming with verb phrases and infinitives, one-pagers and theme posters, literary terms and suspicious stories about broken printers. John Proctor, Abigail Williams, Holden Caulfield, Sylvia Plath...they're all suddenly back in my life: not-so-long-lost friends returned from their own summer vacation on the shelves of my classroom.

Tim, ever the dream-chaser, accepted an amazing job opportunity at UCSB, assistant coaching the men's and women's swim team for the one and only Gregg Wilson. He's excited and exhausted and challenged and just loving every single minute of this new journey. As hard as the (temporary) separation is, I couldn't be happier for him-- for us.

And so...I have a roommate! A dear, dear friend from high school moved in last weekend, and despite my inability to cook, our shared inability to avoid bad television, and Bailey's inability to behave like a normal dog, the set-up is just perfect.

If tonight's stars aligned the way I wanted them to, I'd have the next few hours to update this poor excuse for a blog in my current Mumford and Sons-induced bliss, however perhaps the better bet is to to prepare for tomorrow's Back-to-School Night and re-read the first three chapters of Kindred, since I'll be teaching it in about 11 hours.

Of course, the season premiere of Gossip Girl is also calling. Something tells me I just might cave in to Fox's pure demoniac hour-long teen-soap pitfall...And so it begins; the teacher's constant dilemma: grading papers or Taco Tuesdays? Lesson planning or happy hour? The Real World or Back-to-School Night PowerPoint? As always, the choice is inevitable. Sigh.

Missing you. Proud of you. Every. Day. 

Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way

See how they shine
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind

-Simon and Garfunkel