Our Love is A Star

(Sure, Some Hazardry)
"Beth/Rest," Bon Iver


Fitting that this entry is two months late...

Here's to the past two years. Of love, friendship, laughter, and Pete Townsend. Of bare feet, shell necklaces,  Enzo, and Lotus Thai. Of moves and heartache and acceptance and reunion.

Here's to following our hearts, always.
To never, ever settling. 
To dangerous treks down rocky terrain to get WAY too close to the elephant seals.
To silliness and creativity and invincibility. 
To fresh fish tacos and sweet tea vodka.
To too much wine and 2:00 AM conversations.
To belting out "Walking in Memphis" on road trips, beautifully off-key.
To never carrying a burden alone, no matter how painful or isolating. 
To birds of paradise and extra Splenda and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
To understanding a dream is never too distant or too unrealistic or too big or too anything.

Maybe you'd be kidnapped by pirates
And they would take you to their hideout
As pirates often do
But I'd find the secret map
And I would vigilante-bushwhack
Through the jungles of Peru

Just to save you and I'd take you north to Mexico
Where you would tell me your life story on the steps of a Mayan temple
Where we'd camp singing nonsense songs in 12 bars to the jaguars, until you'd sense me
Your eyes convincing, and I would kiss you like a hero in the half-light
Dryer sheets and peach shampoo, the smell of palm leaves, I'd sleep against you
Until the natives found us, but they would crown us king and queen
And we could stay there, spend our days there, eating guava by the sea
And I could understand your views and you could fall in love with me

And while the silly human race talks to droids in outer-space
We grow old and laugh about this song
And between the jungle and the stars, you sing nonsense songs in 12 bars to me
And in my sleep I hum along
-Ludo-

    I hope your heart will (always) beat where my home is...

"Movin' Away," My Morning Jacket

A Little Town and a Great Big Life

"Everyday America," Sugarland

I've never been very good at goodbyes. As excited as I always am about the adventure-filled impending future, that one metaphorical toe always seems to be drawn back by some unseen force into the place I'm leaving, nostalgically attempting to grasp some piece of what will soon be my past. It's amazing how easy it is to overlook all of the struggle and loneliness and frustration of the past nine months when compared to the things and people I'll be leaving behind.

Don't get me wrong-- Santa Barbara is the place I need and want to be. On June 12th, I get to drive my favorite freeway in the world, California's very own 101, for what will feel like the millionth time. I get to take the more-than-familiar Hope Avenue exit and make my way to Willowglen Road. I get to park in front of my favorite house in existence and unpack my things in a residence I know better than any spot on this Earth, in a town I know and love more than any single city in the entire world. I get to return to my sun-saturated roots, take Bailey on walks to Willowglen Park, and become a regular again at Blenders, East Beach, the SBCC track, Los Banos, and Joe's. Above all of this, I get to return to a domesticity and day-to-day partnership with my best friend; my husband, and live amongst friends and family I've missed being geographically closer to. There isn't one atom of my being that questions whether or not this move is the right Next Step, and thinking about the little niche in the world that is San Roque neighborhood inevitably brings a smile to my face. I'm so excited about rockin' the suburbs Ben Folds style this summer.

That being said, thinking about what I'm leaving behind in Carlsbad makes my heart cringe and, especially as these final days of the school year rapidly approach, gives me a lump in my throat that's increasingly harder to avoid. I read the final chapter of The Catcher in the Rye aloud to my juniors yesterday, and the last line, fittingly, reads: "Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody." While I absolutely don't regret sharing my life and my experiences with my students, or wanting to be a part of theirs, it certainly does make it that much harder to leave them and this community behind.

I've spent a number of posts in this space discussing my teaching experiences, and I know I've commented on more than one occasion about my students' seemingly endless capacity to impress. Of course they have their moments of angst and rebellion and stubbornness. Of course I've felt pangs of frustration and anger and impatience. There are days I combat apathy and cheating and lying and disrespect, and head home with a heavy heart and a burdensome weight on my shoulders. However, the buoyancy and positivity and talent of these kids is nearly gut-wrenching.

This year, I've had a number of conversations with a number of students who are feeling world-weary and a little lost. Shaken by the "system" and angry at the people who've created it. Discouraged by their inability to change the world in a single day through a single fist raise and a little determination. Worried about the way their lives will unfold and whether or not their contributions will be "enough" to sustain the lives and legacies they wish to lead and leave behind. Beaten by algebraic equations and indefinite pronouns, unable to understand where these proofs and facts will ever fit into the great Puzzle of Life they wish to one day attack, solve, and conquer. Rendered apathetic by authority or misguidance or illegal substances. Defeated by people who let them down or didn't understand or just flat out forgot. Fear, anger, confusion, embarrassment, rebellion...the teenage cliche exists for a reason. However, once again I'm repeatedly awed by the resiliency that is the human spirit. My students, for the most part, continue to come into my classroom with open minds and willing attitudes. They ask honest questions and they share their lives. They smile, laugh, cry, and collaborate to cohesively form one unit of 172 individual forces who just happened to end up in room 3210 last fall. I am so tremendously proud of them--not only as students, but as people--and I will miss this final group of my Carlsbad High kids more than they know.

One week and three days from now, I will pack my CRV and head up the coast to a little seaside town aptly nicknamed the American Riviera. I will spend the summer swimming in my favorite expanse of the Pacific, rollerblading through the sidewalks of my childhood, painting and playing drinking games in the garage where I used to park my Acura Legend, and relishing the Hendry's sand in the bedsheets. But for now, I'm soaking up my final days in this little seaside town; laughing with my kids, walking Bailey on the sand in front of Tower 37, drinking Norte margaritas, and running along the Carlsbad bluffs just before the sun sets. Dr. Seuss advocates: "Don't cry because its over, smile because it happened..." Sage advice, although I can't imagine I'll make it through next week with dry eyes...

Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,

The mist and cloud will turn to rain,

The rain to mist and cloud again...

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Splendid Evenings

"Live to Tell the Tale," Passion Pit

God bless that smile on your face
God bless the seeds in the ground
God bless my family's keen gaze

Oh, I know...
that whatever happens to you,
Whatever happens to me,
I hope that I'll fall asleep
Knowing that you'll always be
The story with no ending


And this is like I have always dreamed:
Cobblestone and dusty feet
That's the way it should always be
Head over heels, and deftly
Wonderful and healthy

One. Month.

Welcome to the Good Life

"Let's go on a livin' spree..."

"Good Life," Kanye West

According to Arcade Fire's crowd-pleasing anthem "Rebellion (Lies)," "sleeping is giving in." That was certainly proved true this past weekend in the sun-drenched desert heat of Indio's 12th annual Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. While we may have fallen into our beds past 3:00 AM most mornings, the mind-boggling audio overload we experienced each afternoon/night was more than worth a few less hours of shut-eye.

We spent the weekend in an amazing rented house in La Quinta, situated squarely on a beautiful golf course and complete with our own pool and spa. We brought beach cruisers to avoid the traffic to and from the venue, and owe virtually all of the planning to our good friends Phil and Lindsay; Coachella veterans who secured the house, snacks, and beer. On Friday, Tim and I got to the grounds around 5, and spent the first half hour gaining our bearings and taking in the immense stretch of stages, statues, and spectators. As we made our way towards the Main Stage, the mellow sounds of Lauryn Hill's set drifted lazily through the air, and we stopped to take in a few of her songs before heading to the Outdoor Stage. Sadly, we missed her Fugees medley, however we were able to score an enviable spot for Cold War Kids. Their killer set included "Hospital Beds," "Royal Blue," and "Louder Than Ever," and certainly set the stage for what proved to be one of the best weekends of my life. 

"Bring the buckets by the dozens; bring your nieces and your cousins..."

15 minutes after Cold War Kids' encore, Brandon Flowers took the stage. Wearing his signature vest and a huge grin, he belted through more than half of Flamingo before bringing out the rest of the Killers to perform "Mr. Brightside" and "Read My Mind." 

"Sunsets in neon lights..."

As much as we wanted to stay at the Outdoor Stage and watch Crystal Castles, we left to catch the second half of The Black Keys from the beer garden. This was my first taste of what I'd heard dubbed "Conflictchella" only an hour before: being fully aware that another band I badly wanted to see--Cut Copy-- was playing in that moment and I was missing it...I guess life's full of difficult choices, and sometimes sacrifices just have to be made. However, catching Brandon Flowers/The Killers and The Black Keys more than made up for the fact I'll just have to see Cut Copy the next time they play their way through so-Cal. Kings of Leon came on after the Keys, and they played a long set full of older hits and new material off of Come Around Sundown. As talented as I know KOL is, for some reason I hadn't been overly excited to see them perform. While they sounded good live and their set was entertaining, the highlight headliner of the night was certainly the final act. We ended Friday night watching the Chemical Brothers tear up the main stage, back with another one of those block rockin' beats and ready to send the audience into an electrified experience of lights and noise. Their carefully choreographed visuals exploded off the big screens, and their clean electronics kept the dancing audience on their feet and screaming for more. While I wasn't all-too familiar with the Chemical Brothers before this weekend, I already have half a dozen new songs of theirs now on my iPod. Day 1: Success.

"Cause there's a party over here, so you might as well be here..."

On Saturday, we woke up late and inhaled an AMAZING breakfast of banana and wheat pancakes, eggs, and bacon a la Lindsay and Jessica. We spent the day lounging at the pool, drinking beers, and watching the boys (rather sadly) play the single pin directly in front of our house, carefully retreating into our backyard when actual paying golfers made their way onto the course. By 4:00, we were ready to head back over to the Empire Polo Field for another afternoon of music madness.

Cage the Elephant certainly didn't disappoint. Their crazy set included a handful of their well-known songs and a number of other fast-paced, off-the-wall sing-a-longs. With his rock-star mop and clad in a red gingham-esque dress, lead singer Matt Shultz led an already-excited crowd into a wild abyss of noise and melody, and everyone walked away from his set sweat-drenched, wide-eyed, and happy. 

"So all you critics who despise us, go ahead and criticize us...It's your tyranny that drives us, adds the fire to the flame"

We made our way over for the last part of Broken Social Scene's set to get a good spot at the Main Stage for Bright Eyes. I was highly, highly anticipating Conor Oberst's beautifully tragic and soul-searing melodies, and I was blown away by the rawness and simplicity behind his voice. I was virtually entranced by the sound and lyrics of their entire set, which included "Bowl of Oranges," "Road to Joy," "Shell Games," and "Four Winds." While it would have been nearly impossible for me to pick my top two or three songs for Bright Eyes to perform, those are four of my absolute favorites. 

"The crowd kept pushing forward 'til they swallowed the police...yeah, they went wild"

Only twenty minutes after Oberst and his magicians left the stage, Mumford and Sons began a set full of high expectations in front of a larger crowd than most. Each member of the band smiled for virtually the entire show; they seemed genuinely excited and honored to be playing in front of the 60,000+ audience. They played most of the songs off of Sigh No More, then also proceeded to play two new songs. London-based they might be, but their U.S. following grows by the hundreds every day.

"So let the memories be good for those who stay"

At this point in the night, Empire of the Sun was about to rock out on the Outdoor Stage. As tempted as I was to see their high-intensity and much-talked-about performance, I didn't want to give up our awesome seats for the final act of the night, so we opted to stay through Animal Collective in order to wait it out for Arcade Fire. In all honesty, I wanted to like Animal Collective. I'd heard good things. The Coachella-powers-that-be deemed them 9:00 PM Main Stage worthy. However, I just couldn't get into the electronic-psychodelic-synth that boomed through the speakers, or the sensory-dripping colorful images that invaded the big screens. Perhaps it was because I knew I was missing Empire, or perhaps it was because I knew Arcade Fire would be gracing the stage in mere minutes. Whatever the case, I wasn't disappointed when their final disconnected-noise-beats song ended and the heavy crowd stood in patient desperation, anxiously awaiting the next band's arrival to the stage.

Before I left, I was looking forward to lots of Coachella bands. Old favorites, current favorites, and bands I only just recently discovered-- music overload I could hardly wait for. However, if I had to pick just one group I was most excited for, it was undoubtedly Arcade Fire. I am a relatively new Arcade Fire fan....while I've been aware of them for a few years, I only this year started listening to them on a regular basis. I don't know what took me so long, because every single time I put on any one of their CDs, I'm immediately sucked into the mind-blowing lyrics and anthemic beats. I had extremely high expectations for Arcade Fire's live show, and I was absolutely not let down. From start to finish, this band delivered the best live performance I've ever seen. 

"And now the music divides us into tribes"

Their set covered songs from Funeral, Neon Bible, and The Suburbs, with an (understandably) bigger focus on their newest album. Their energy was almost tangible, their focus was spot-on, and their enthusiasm involved every member of the audience whether or not the listener knew the words. In the middle of "Wake Up," the final song before their encore, they released 2,000 huge beach ball-esque orbs from above the stage, each filled with an LED light which was later set to the beat of the music. They ended their time on-stage with a three-song encore featuring "Ready to Start," "Neighborhood #1," and "Sprawl II." Day 2: Pure Perfection. 

"Now our lives are changing fast...hope that something pure can last..."

We woke up on Sunday morning, and I honestly remember wondering how this third day could possibly compare to the magical music overload of Friday and Saturday. Due to the dusty heat, we opted to forgo both Jack's Mannequin and Wiz Khalifa, but made it to the festival grounds in enough time to catch one of my favorite bands of all-time, Jimmy Eat World. While I've seen them before, it was years ago and I forgot just how much I love watching this band perform live. I think I can easily classify over a dozen of Jimmy Eat World's songs my "all-time favorites," therefore I honestly didn't know what to expect for their set. They pulled songs from all seven of their studio releases, however their hour-long performance primarily featured choices from Invented, Futures, and Bleed American. When the first chords of "23" came blaring steadily out of the speakers, I had to close my eyes for a second to recognize and appreciate just how happy this weekend--this moment--was making me. At so many junctures over the course of the three days, I had to stop and remember to take it all in--so excited to "play my little part in something big," as Jim Adkins might say. 

"Hey now, we're wide awake and we're thinking, my darling...Believe your voice can mean something"

Because we decided to watch Jimmy Eat World on the Outdoor Stage, we missed most of Nas and Damian Marley's set...(I still cringe a little when I think about the fact we deliberately chose not to watch the duo sing "Road to Zion"). By the time we made our way to the Main Stage, they had about two and a half songs remaining, and we got to hear them cover "Could You Be Loved" before they left the stage. 

"I've got joy in abundance; I've got life full of substance...So I count my blessings"

We caught a little of Death From Above before heading to the Gobi Tent for Foster the People, a relatively new band I got to see perform at BellyUp in Solana Beach a few weeks ago. The three-person group is loud, musically talented, and full of energy, and although they came onstage half an hour late, once there their music made up for the audience's impatient restlessness. 

"I took a sip of something poison but I'll hold on tight"

Duran Duran played on the main stage right after Foster the People, and I remember having a moment of "this can't be real life," as I walked away from the Gobi Tent. Before the final chords of "Pumped Up Kicks" had even finished, I could already hear the beginning notes of "Ordinary World" pummeling out of the sky-high speakers adorning both sides of the Main Stage. While Duran Duran wasn't on my list of weekend "must-sees," I was thoroughly impressed. Those guys can rock. 

"You know you're something special and you look like you're the best"

The Strokes headlined at the main stage after Duran Duran. The Strokes are a band I want to like, and they have quite a few songs I have on a few random iPod mixes. From what I've heard so far, I'm a fan of their latest album, Angles. It's too bad that the lead singer, Julian Casablancas, is pretty much a raging, self-centered jerk. He didn't seem excited to be there, he spat crude jokes and cutting phrases at the audience, and he ridiculed people for being excited to see Kanye. I guess maybe I'm just unaware of the way Casablancas garners his stage presence, however I was disappointedly unimpressed with him. The Strokes songs live, however, are just as sharp and clean as they discs they're immortalized on. 

"We've got the right to live; fight to use it...Got everything and you can just choose it..."

Arguably the most anticipated act of the entire weekend, Kanye West came out at 10:45 to deliver what is already being touted as one of the best rap performances of all-time. I'm probably biased because 1) I was there and 2) I haven't seen a whole lot of live rap performances, but I have to say I was completely and blissfully blown away. Entering on a crane, back-dropped by a beautifully crafted canvas, and surrounded by his now-signature ballet dancers, Kanye's performance was nothing short of a perfectly-crafted artistic masterpiece. He blasted through 25 songs spanning his entire career, pausing only momentarily to praise his fans and remember his mother. To many people's dismay (and initially, mine too), Kanye brought out virtually no guests-- Bon Iver's Justin Vernon was really the only other noticeable artist sharing the stage, and only for a couple songs. Instead, Kanye chose to make the moment completely and entirely his own, and it worked. As he sings himself: "No one man should have all that power." Perhaps that's true, but last Sunday night, Kanye single-handedly commanded the crowd like few can. Day 3: Brilliant.

"How do you...refresh the page and restart the memory? Respark the soul and rebuild the energy?"

"I guess every superhero needs his theme music"

I arrived home in San Diego tired, dirty, and sore on Monday--(Tim didn't even sleep, but rather just drove the 3.5 hour drive to Santa Barbara as soon as we arrived home from Kanye's performance). The weather hit 100 degrees almost all of the days we were in the desert. The beers were expensive and the grounds dusty. And yet, the weekend was absolutely magic. I'm already counting the days until 2012...

We're Gonna Make it Work When it Hurts

"For the First Time," The Script

We're gonna start by drinking old cheap bottles of wine
Sit talking up all night
Saying things we haven't for a while...
We're smiling but we're close to tears
Even after all these years
We just now got the feeling that we're meeting
For the first time

Oh, these times are hard
(Yeah they're making us crazy)
Don't give up on me, baby
 

Farther apart than we're supposed to be. Once again connected by technology and power lines, touch screens and text messages. You can't read tone through text, they say. You can't hear a heart beat over the telephone. An email won't reveal laugh lines. Sometimes "I miss you" just isn't enough. And while I can "realize how lucky I am" and recognize "how worse off some other people are," sometimes I just need a day to be sad and feel lonely. Sometimes it feels like we're traveling, alone, through our own vast forests of snow or sea. 

 

Then, as it was

Then again it will be

And though the course may change sometimes

Rivers always reach the sea

-"Ten Years Gone," Led Zeppelin

Picture Me Rollin'

2Pac

Tim's probably right. I mean, what female Bichon could resist?

Leave the Novelist in His Daydream Tune

"I Must Belong Somewhere," Bright Eyes

This year, I'm lucky enough to be making the somewhat treacherous trek to Indio, California during the third weekend in April, to participate in that great migration otherwise known as Coachella. My excitement is immeasurable--for the last month, other than the occasional new album preview (i.e. The Decemberists, Unwritten Law, and Lupe Fiasco) or a Katy Perry single, I've been listening to nothing other than the featured artists of that highly anticipated weekend; most notably: Arcade Fire, Kanye West, Cold War Kids, Brandon Flowers, Jimmy Eat World, Bright Eyes, Mumford and Sons, Kings of Leon, The Black Keys, and one of my new potential favorites, Foster the People. In The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald discusses the "colossal vitality...of illusion." He mentions the danger in "[throwing oneself] into [an expectation] with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that [drifts its] way." According to Fitzgerald, "no amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart." In essence: As humans, we tend to romanticize our intended future efforts and events until they simply can't meet the expectations we've created. With Coachella, however, I disagree...for one, since I've never been, my expectations are chaotic and uncertain. Two, I simply can't fathom a disappointing music festival with these bands (and the friends I get to share the weekend with!)

In discovering new bands through Coachella's setlist and re-discovering old favorites through iPod shuffling, I came upon Jimmy Eat World's "Goodbye Sky Harbor." The final lyrics read:

So here I am above palm trees so straight and tall.

You are smaller, getting smaller.

But I still see you.

When I heard these lines just yesterday, I froze. I rewound the song; listened to the final words again. Googled the lyrics and researched the source of inspiration. Sure enough, the song was inspired by one of John Irving's most impressive works of all-time (and my personal favorite), A Prayer for Owen Meany. The book that, perhaps above all others, made me genuinely attracted to the idea of writing as a profession. Irving's words seeped under my skin and etched themselves into the memory of my hibernated, self-conscious, and confused 17-year-old self. Of course, up until that point in my life I had read a good number of books I counted as "treasures;" small splices of words and paragraphs that came together in harmony and message. I've always loved reading, and I so vividly remember the first real book that had a genuinely lasting effect on me. I was in fourth grade, and Mrs. Callanan was in the process of reading Where the Red Fern Grows aloud to the class. Ever-intrigued by the adventures of Billy and his noble canine friends, I read ahead and finished the book on my own. I distinctly recall the tears streaming down my face as my blurred eyes read over the final page three times. I remember my mom finding me curled on my bed, desperately trying to hide the fact that a book had made me cry. I remember proudly calling that book my favorite for years, and to this day it certainly still ranks as one of the most life-changing books I've ever read. I'll forever love the heartbreaking mix of despair and awe that inevitably arises every time I'm turning the last page of an incredible book. By the time I was in high school, I had had the experience with a handful of novels-- Bridge to Terabithia, A Wrinkle in Time, The Phantom Tollbooth, The Thief of Always, and To Kill A Mockingbird, to name the ones at the top of the list. Today, I've read dozens of books I consider "favorites," and there are too many to count existing on my list of "to-reads." However, I don't believe any book has had the effect on me that Irving's Owen Meany did ten years ago. And honestly, discovering a point at which my favorite book and one of my favorite bands intertwined on their own accord (and not through a clumsy and inaccurate connection forced by me) was one of those rare and perfect moments of cohesive illumination and energy.

Friday, I'm finishing Adventures of Huckleberry Finn with my AP English class. It turns out this book wasn't in my own high school curriculum. It also turns out I never was asked or required to read this book in college, even though the words "American Literature and Culture Major" grin sheepishly from my diploma-- (and as a sidenote, is there really any novel out there that, according to the "experts" who "know," encompasses "American literature and culture" more than Huck Finn?) In any case, it also turns out I don't like this book. And the frustrating thing? I want to like it. I want to like it just like I want to like dim sum, Inception, and Coldplay. According to knowledgable and witty people, Twain's use of satire is unparalleled as he makes grandiose suggestions and social commentaries on mocks human nature. Funnily enough, I'm a big Twain fan-- I love his short stories, think he's hilarious as a person, and have laughed out loud at some of his outrageously accurate and hilarious quotes. And true, this is a great time to teach Huck Finn, as some idiots individuals have chosen to publish censored versions of the novel this year. And yes, I understand the AP test will most likely mention satire, or Twain, or dialect, and all of these are certainly present and relevant in Jim and Huck's arduous and challenge-filled trek down the mighty Mississippi. I understand Twain was a brilliant writer ahead of his time, and I absolutely appreciate Huck Finn for the monumentally daring piece that it was when published. However, it's just not one of those books that makes my heart flutter and my eyes well when I turn the final page-- I'd rather "light out for the Territory ahead" myself.